A Pirate's Life and Death part 15 by Ecri
See disclaimer in part one.
Thanks to all who have reviewed!
Will thanked the barman as he walked towards the figure he'd pointed out. Will handed him a small coin, which brought a smile to the man's face. "No trouble, mate."
When they finally reached the dark figure, Will saw dark hair, dark eyes, and a man who was obviously a pirate. He cleared his throat to speak, but did not know what to say.
The barman slapped the other man on the shoulder. "Look ere, Bootstrap. This lad's been waitin' for ye."
Bootstrap eyes him suspiciously. "What did ye want, lad?"
Will blinked, his eyes going slightly wide. What did he want? He wanted to sink into the ground and disappear. He had no idea what to say to the man. Hello, I'm your son, or Nice to meet you, you're my father. No. Best leave it simple. Words like son and father would carry too much emotion for two strangers.
"I'm Will. Will Turner." He waited for the inevitable understanding.
"You're Will Turner?" Bootstrap asked.
Will nodded. They stared at each other in silence for a moment, the barman taking that chance to slip away.
"You're Will Turner." Bootstrap said again, though this time it wasn't a question.
Will nodded again, but could take the silence no longer. "I know you're looking for Jack. I've been traveling with him, and" Will was not prepared for the sudden reaction his words tore from the older man.
"Jack? Jack Sparrow?"
"Captain Jack Sparrow," Will corrected automatically wondering why that brought a scowl to the man'sto his father'sface.
"Well, me boy, why don't you come with me. We'll get to know one anotherson." Bootstrap put a hand across Will's shoulders and held him tightly steering him deeper into the town.
Will stopped walking, trying to turn back to the Painted Parrot. "We can'tI mean, Jack's inside, and Elizabeth" It seemed to him then that he'd said something terribly wrong.
"Jack's in there?" Bootstrap gestured towards the Painted Parrot, and took a tentative step towards the establishment. "With some tart?"
Will's indignation at such an epithet being applied to Elizabeth even in ignorance forced him to plant his feet firmly and reach for his weapon, though he soon realized he could not draw on his own father. He stayed his hand. "Yes, he's inside, but he's not with a tart. He's"
Bootstrap cut him off with a wave of his hand. "Come, lad, then let's get acquainted." He put his arm around Will's shoulders again, but this time Will would not be moved.
"Don't you want to go in and say hello? We've been looking for you" Will let the thought trail as he studied the man for the first time. Standing closer to the Painted Parrot where the light was better, he saw Bootstrap's features more plainly. Brown hair, brown eyes, butsomething wasn't right. Will recalled Jack's words to him when they had first sailed from Port Royal to find Elizabeth. He'd called Will the spitting image of his father.
Will had told Jack then that he wasn't a simpleton, and he wasn't blind, either. This man looked nothing like him. Placing his hand back on the hilt of his sword, he drew it taking a step back to give himself both more room to strike, and a bit of distance from his opponent. "You aren't Bootstrap Bill Turner."
The man smiled, but it was a smile of cold calculation rather than of joy. "That depends on yer interpretation. That's my identity now, lad. I may not be the original, but I am the latest edition." The man took a step forward, but he hadn't yet drawn his own weapon. "I was with Bootstrap for the last several years. When 'e died, I took 'is name. Sort of to 'onor 'im like."
Will hesitated, and his eyes darkened with sorrow and regret. "He's dead." It wasn't so much a question as it was a statement that was reluctant to take itself as true. His father was dead. After all this, he hadn't wanted to believe it could be possible. Fate had taunted him with thoughts that, after all this time, he might actually meet the man, and now he was denied the chance again. His eyes snapped up again to lock on the man's as his sword came up to chest level. "You knew him?"
"Did I know Bootstrap? Oh, lad, that's like askin' the wind if it can carry the scent of the sea!" He laughed, but it was a harsh sound, as if he had long ago forgotten what it meant to laugh in joy.
"When did he die? How did it happen?" Will's sword didn't waver.
The man eyed the blade warily, but spoke as though it wasn't there. "He died but a year ago. It was a bar brawl. He'd been beaten pretty badly, and still his last words were that he had to get well and go lookin' for 'is son! He was thinking of ye lad!"
For just a moment, Will's heart surged with love for the man he would never meet. That he'd been thinking of himWill's eyes hardened, and the blade, which had once again dipped, drew up straight and steady.
"You lie. Tell me what happened to William Turner!"
Almost immediately a change came over the man before him. He stood straighter and his smile disappeared. "Or what, lad?"
The humorless laugh sounded again chasing a chill up and down Will's spine.
The man drew his own sword, and, in a moment, the two circled each other. Though, instead of facing an honorable opponent, Will knew beyond a shadow of doubt that he faced a blood enemy. Circling, he kept his eyes on the other man's face, taking the measure of him and looking for some hint as to what move this faux Bootstrap would make first.
The man was larger than Will, and the strength of his muscles was obvious even through the concealing cloth of his shirt and cloak. The man leaned forward just as he slashed at Will in a move as inelegant as it was rash. Will took a step back, his own blade blocking the blow and offering one of his own. Practiced and graceful, his blow had more edge to it than any might expect from just the look of him, and the other man's arm flew hard to the right with the force of it.
Angered, the man who'd claimed the identity of Bootstrap Bill Turner began the fight in earnest. If not by skill, then by rage alone, he would emerge the victor.
Will fought fiercely, his own rage that someone would claim his father's identity, perhaps have killed him for it, fueled his own considerable skills. Of the two, he was, without doubt, the better swordsman. His movements, fluid and graceful, however, began to falter as fatigue leeched his strength. Three hours a day, he thought. I once practiced three hours a day. His strength and stamina then had seemed boundless, as things often do in youth.
Now, his muscles shook with the effort to hold his sword level, and each blow he managed to strike was weaker than the last. Finally, his opponent's strength and anger succeeded in tearing his blade from his hand. Will watched in wide-eyed disbelief as it flew from his hand to land in the dirt a few feet away. Almost immediately, his eyes came back to the man who stood before him holding a blade tip steady at his throat.
Will held his hands up in a gesture of surrender though he was loath to do it. He could not win if he had no weapon. He waited until the other man lowered his own weapon, and when he had, Will took a hesitant step back.
The man didn't say a word, so he took another. The man stood between him and the Painted Parrot and any assistance he might expect. He couldn't get back to the bar, but perhaps he could break away and circle back once the man had gone. When the man just stared at him, he moved as thought to take another step, but the sword point came up again.
"Don't be gettin' any ideas, lad." The man warned and his words stopped Will in his tracks.
With great effort, Will concealed the fatigued trembling of his limbs cursing his fate that he had not yet regained his full strength from his illness. Stilling their quivering, he kept an eye upon this man who he knew meant to kill him, or perhaps use him against Jack. He would not be a pawn. Not now! Not again! He would die before he would allow another to use him. He waited until the tip of the man's sword dipped just a bit, then, with a great lunge, threw himself to the ground, scooped up a handful of loose dirt and stone, and tossed it into the man's eyes. Not waiting to see the effect, he ran from the man, spurred by adrenaline and disappeared into the town.
After he had gone some distance, he slipped into a darkened building. He would have gone straight to the Black Pearl, but the cloaked stranger had been closer to the docks. He could not risk running past him. In the dark stillness of the late night, he stilled his labored breathing. He would just wait here until he could breathe evenly. Then he would return to the Parrot and find Jack and Elizabeth. Jack would have to know about this man.
**
Nick could find no relief from the burning and itching of his eyes. The irritants might well no longer be there, but he had rubbed his eyes so fiercely that they were no longer needed. While stumbling blindly in front of the bar, his foot made contact with something, and despite his agony, he blinked at it until he could make it out.
The whelp's sword lay at his feet and the sight of it gave birth to a notion that made him grin even in the face of his physical agony. He picked it up, and, still rubbing his eyes, headed around the back of the Painted Parrot. The lad might well return looking for Jack, and he would be ready.
Jack Sparrow was here, and knowing the good Captain, he would find Bootstrap. Then, Sparrow and Turner would likely try to find him. Well and good, but he would not be without assets in any resulting negotiation.
**
Jack whirled around to stare at William Turner. Truth be told, he'd never thought to be standing across from the man again, and to find him here, alive and well, almost overwhelmed him. Except for the one inescapable fact that the reunion was not what it should have been.
"William, as good as it is to see you, there's too much goin' on now to 'ave the reunion we might 'ave wished. What's this about Nick?"
William sighed, and it was a weary sound indeed. "Nick's alive, mate. One night, not long after I'd visited with Ol' Joe, I realized I was bein' followed. It stopped for a time, but always when I would put into a port I would hear tales of the doings of Bootstrap Bill' and the tales were things I'd not done!"
Jack shrugged that off. "Such is the lot of a pirate. Often 'ave I 'eard tell of the doings of Captain Jack Sparrow! Once I was told a tale in all seriousness that my crew, under my command, 'ad managed to sink no less than five ships of the line!"
William shook his head. "It was more than that! I was being accosted for debts that were not mine, bein' told that I couldn't join a crew because my reputation told them I was dishonorable. I could do nothing. I could earn no living."
Jack took a step closer. "Go on, then, mate." He knew William well enough, even if they hadn't seen each other in years, to know he was reaching a point in his story where he'd be just as likely to go mute as to share details. Proper urging was needed if he was to learn what was going on.
"One night in Tortuga, I noticed I was bein' followed again. I turned to confront the man, and that was when I realized it was Nick." William's eyes took on a haunted look. "I thought 'im dead, and said as much. Nick only laughed. He drew 'is sword and said 'e would 'ave all I owned. 'E wanted my life. My identity. We fought, but 'e 'ad a dagger and distracted me with it. Ran me through. Then 'e took all I 'ad."
"All?" Jack asked, his thoughts held by memory of the item Ol' Joe had once held.
"Aye." The Elder Turner looked at Jack, knowing what was going through his mind. "'E took all I had, including what I held that once belonged to the three of us"
Jack opened his mouth, but stopped when Elizabeth suddenly inserted herself between him and his old friend. "What's going on, Jack? Who's this Nick person, and what about Will? Where is he?"
Jack saw the fear in her eyes, heard it in her voice. It would have been impossible to miss it. He took her by the shoulders. "I'm workin' on it, love. Trust me." He held her gaze for a moment, and when he was sure she wasn't going to take off to find him on her own, or have some sort of fit in front of his face, he nodded once, and turned to William.
"There's more goin' on 'ere, mate. You say Nick's taken yer identity, well, 'e's taken more than that." Jack didn't like to repeat it, so he waited for William's tired mind to remember what he'd said moments before.
William's eyes widened, so alike to his son's gestures of incredulity that, for a moment, Jack's heart skipped a beat.
"My son! Jack, was it really?"
Jack smiled knowing William had long ago given up any chance of meeting the boy himself. That was why he'd left the box with Joe. He let his own pride and affection for the boy come through as he spoke. "Aye, William, it was indeed, and a better lad ye couldn't 'ave 'oped for."
"Nick's got my boy." William again scanned the area searching for Will though he had to know he wasn't there. "It's all he needs." He turned to Jack, desperation in his eyes. "Jack, we got to get 'im back! Nick's not right in the 'ead."
"Considerin' I thought 'im dead, I'd say that's a bit of an improvement. Come on, William. Let's go back to the Pearl and you can tell me all about it." Jack steered William towards the docks.
"Ye got the Pearl back! Oh, Jack, that must be quite a tale!" William declared as his eyes still searched for any shadow that might be his son.
"Well, it ain't a snoozer I can tell ye that!" He caught Elizabeth's glance and nodded once. He hope that she understood. He wouldn't leave without Will Turner. Even if it meant his life or his ship.
**
Elizabeth tried to keep calm. Inside, part of her screamed for Will. They had only just been reunited. He had only just recovered himself. He couldn't be in the hands of yet another madman. Why was it there were so many insane pirates, and why did they all have to torment Will Turner? She knew Barbossa had been her private tormentor, but he had laid hands on Will, too, once he realized she wasn't William Turner's child. Barbossa had wanted his blood. Killian had wanted his life. Now, there was some scalawag named Nick, and the Lord alone—or perhaps Jack Sparrow—knew what he wanted.
Elizabeth saw the resemblance between Will and his father. It would have been impossible not to see it. William was older, certainly, and perhaps slightly broader, but they seemed of a height, and there was a similarity in the eyes and in the facial expressions that was disconcerting. Here, she realized, is what Will would look like in the years to come. He was a handsome man, and she had always known that would tell in the end. His attractiveness was more than looks, however. He was a caring man, a loving man, and, he was her man. The thought of never seeing him again filled her heart with such fear that it thumped loudly and rapidly until she was sure it would hop right out of her chest.
Will was out here somewhere with another madman. She listened as she walked, for she could hear William Senior and Jack discussing this Nick person who likely held her Will. They seemed to have known him for sometime, and Elizabeth could only suppose that something had broken a long-standing friendship.
She heard William speaking in a voice not unlike her Will's though the senior Turner's accent was more unrefined, more clipped. He spoke as a man who'd lived his life on the sea, and lacked the polish of his son, though she knew none in her circle back home would consider her blacksmith polished.
"I tell ye, Jack, I've caught up with 'im a time or two, and tried to take back what was mine. I couldn't get it. 'E's turned a bit vicious in 'is ways as you might say. 'E's mad as a hatter and 'e's out for revenge. 'E thought you dead, as I did, meself, I'm ashamed to say, and he was content to torment me. Each time I caught up with the brigand, 'e would let me get so closesometimes close enough to touch what he'd taken from meand then 'e'd make sure to put me back down once more." He shook his head and Elizabeth saw a hard man, a man who'd seen too much, and lost too much, and he looked less and less like her own Will.
Then he turned to Jack, a pleading look in his eye. A look that begged for help in some predicament he could not have foreseen, and the resemblance to her love was uncanny enough to make her gasp. "Jack, ye've got ta 'elp me get 'im back!"
Jack was nodding. "Aye, I know that well enough, William. Nick always was a bit too ready for a fight, and a bit too willing to exact what revenge 'e thought owed 'im." He lowered his voice, and Elizabeth had to strain to hear it. "Between you, me, and the full moon, Will's not goin' down easy. That lad 'as a bit of fight in 'imthough, William, 'e ain't quite in top notch form."
She listened as Jack told William about Killian, and, by the time they reached the end of the tale, the Black Pearl was in sight. Elizabeth felt something close to relief to see the familiar shape of the dear old ship sitting proud at the dock. Her relief was not what it would have been if they had not lose Will somewhere out there.
Just as she thought of him, she saw a dark shape ahead of her. She wondered who it was, and her heart leaped at the thought that it might be her Will. She took a step forward, but Jack's hand caught her wrist in a grip like a vise. She looked up at him a question on her lips that died a quick death when she caught sight of his eyes. They had narrowed and focused on the dark shape, and all trace of the insanity that habitually claimed his eyes was gone.
She turned then, following his gaze and realized that the dark shape held another shape before him. He held a man by the shoulders, slightly slumped as though unconscious, or nearly so. Before she could make sense of it, a voice, cold and commanding rang out through the clear night air.
"That'll be far enough. One more step, and I slit the lad's throat."
Elizabeth gasped to hear Nick's voice, though the sight of Will barely keeping his feet was less appalling than the sound that escaped him. A gasp as though of great pain came to her, and she dared to turn away from Will to be sure that Jack and William had followed the man's orders. She was quite prepared to throw herself at them if need be.
To her relief both men stood still as stone beside her, though the glower in William's eyes was matched by the seething stare Jack leveled at his one time friend.
"Aye, that's it." Nick said, taking a careful step backward, and allowing Will's head to loll forward until his chin hit his chest.
Elizabeth strained for a look at his face, hoping she could judge his condition, but she could see nothing but shadow and folds of cloth.
"Jack, me old mate!" Nick called out almost jovially. "It's a fine fate it is that led me to you! I'd thought ye dead, man! I thought ye dead!" He cackled, a hoarse broken laugh belonging to a man twice his age and in much shakier health. "I've got the last thing that belongs to William Turner, and I suppose it's the one thing that will get me Jack Sparrow, as well!" He laughed again, his grip tightening on the dark figure he held.
"What is it you want, Nick." Jack spoke softly, his eyes still narrowed, but a menace and danger in his tone that Elizabeth had never heard before.
"What do I want? I'm surprised ye haven't guessed. I want ye and Bootstrap to take me to that dear little item we 'id. I should never 'ave agreed to it, mate, for as soon as it was a done deal, ye both conspired against me! Ye practically 'anded me over to Killian!" His eyes were wide and round, and full of a rage the likes of which Elizabeth had never seen before.
"That's not 'ow it was, Nick!" William called out to the Pirate. "Ye know it wasn't! Jack 'ad an 'ard time of it, and did wot 'e could!"
Nick's laughter was even louder, and the sound of it sent chills down Elizabeth's spine.
"That's not 'ow it looked from my end! Ye plotted against me! Ye planned it from the beginning. Ye knew what I shared wi'ye was all I 'ad in the world! I told ye as much, more fool was I!" He took a step forward, rage robbing reason, and only stepped back again when his movement brought the man he held to his knees. Securing a better hold on the younger man, he wrenched the boy painfully to his feet, but the captive never gained consciousness.
"Nick, let the boy go, and you and I can 'ave a talk. I'll 'and over anything that's mine to give." Jack's words surprised Elizabeth, but she was ashamed of herself almost instantly. She'd always known he had a soft spot in his heart for Will Turner, and this was proof. She knew that if Nick said the word, Jack would trade even his precious Black Pearl for Will's life.
"That's not the way it's goin' ta be, mate. I want ye ta take me to it! Take me to the thing we 'id all those years ago. Once it's mine, I'll give ye back the boy, and all the things I've taken from 'is old man." He stopped speaking an reached behind himself. "'Ere. As a show of good faith, I'll give ye 'is sword right now." He tossed what he held in his hand and it hit the ground with a thump sending up a cloud of dust in the dry earth.
Jack stepped forward and picked up the weapon, and Elizabeth realized at the same time he did, that it was the sword Jack had loaned Will once he'd become well enough to stand. She saw Jack close his eyes where he knelt in the dirt for a moment, but when he stood again, all signs of emotion were forced back deep inside whatever place Jack usually hid them.
Jack turned to her. "William and I 'ave to do as 'e says. We'll be back for ye."
Elizabeth felt her mouth move up and down for a moment, before she finally found words. "You will not be back for me, Jack Sparrow! I am coming along!"
"No, yer not! I won't give 'im another weapon to use against us." He caught her eyes. "I have to do this. Will would"
"I'm coming with you! There is no way you leave me in some pirate's hiding place and go off for who knows how long! I am coming with you!" To her surprise, he nodded.
"I 'aven't the time to argue. Come along, then, but you do as you're told."
It was her turn to nod. She didn't want him to change his mind, and they would discuss her doing as she was told once they were under way.
It took only a few moments. They were aboard, Nick securing himself in Jack's cabin, and Jack and William heading to round up the crew. They'd be leaving at daybreak, and Elizabeth could only breathe a sigh of relief that, whatever they faced, at least they were all together.
**
Nick stared at Jack Sparrow, not at all certain if the man would take his offer, or if he might see through his bluff. When the Captain knelt to retrieve the sword, Nick knew he'd won. Jack had agreed quickly enough, and William had remained oddly silent. The girl had argued her way aboard, and Nick was fairly certain he could use that to his advantage.
Demanding they leave at first light, he'd locked himself and his hostage in Sparrow's quarters. Once securely behind the locked door, he tossed the limp body to the floor. He'd be keeping the bed for himself. He checked the man he held, and congratulated himself that they hadn't seen fit to verify the lad's identity. They'd have been right astonished if they knew they'd be leaving in the morning with the wrong young lad aboard.
It wasn't important to his plans that he have Bootstrap's son, only that they thought he had William junior. He pulled the cloak away from the man's face smirking into the pain filled eyes of the Painted Pirate's barman. By the time the man became coherent, they'd be well on their way. By which time, Nick would knock the man out again. If he ended up dead, well, Nick had done worse in his life than kill some barman no one would miss.
Yes, he thought, things were working out better than he'd have thought when he woke up this morning. Things had indeed taken a delightful turn.
**
Once aboard the Pearl, Jack settled William in Will's kit, and poured him a bit of rum. "To old friends." Jack raised his own glass, and, after a moment, William followed suit.
"My boy" he whispered the words, but then brought his eyes up to meet Jack's. "Tell me about 'im, Jack. What's my boy like?"
Jack smiled, and poured another shot for each of them. "He goes by the name of Will. I knew he was your lad. He was familiar right away, and when I saw him through those cell bars"
"Was my boy in prison?" William seemed surprised.
Jack laughed. "Nah, mate, that was me! Your boy broke me out when 'e realized I might be able to 'elp 'im."
He took a breath then and explained how he'd met Will and had nearly lost a duel to the boy, though he was nearly twice the lad's age and certainly more experienced in swordplay. He hadn't wanted to explain about Barbossa. He'd hoped Will would do most of that. Somehow, he thought it might be easier for William to handle the danger he'd put his son in if he was able to see at the same time that his son was alive and well.
By the time he'd reached the end of the tale, explained about the hanging and the subsequent escape, William was beaming.
"Fancy that," he whispered. "My lad doin' all that!"
Jack nodded, his own pride in the boy's accomplishments and fortitude apparent. "Will's a fine one, all right."
"Jack," William interrupted, "Does Will understand why I left 'im and 'is mum all those years ago?"
"I don't really know, mate. 'E's a smart lad. I don't think 'e 'olds you a grudge."
William nodded, but didn't seem to believe the words. He cast his gaze around at the hammock and the meager possessions that were his sons. Catching sight of a familiar box, he pulled it from the sack it had sat atop. "Is this"
"Aye. I saw Ol' Joe. 'E gave me that for Will."
William drew in a shaky breath, and, whether from the rum, the sight of the box, or some deep denied emotion he wouldn't name, he clutched the box to his chest and closed his eyes denying his tears the chance to escape.
Jack, loath to witness something with which he could not help, patted his friend on the shoulder and left him alone with his thoughts.
**
Will had not intended to fall asleep. Indeed, he was not even aware he had done so until someone shook him.
"Oy! Wot ye doin' lad? Ye can't stay there! Get up, ye miserable sod!"
Blinking his eyes at the words and the accompanying too-tight grip upon his shoulders, Will struggled to rise before he was quite aware of his surroundings. Blinking rapidly, he took in the sight of a large man glaring at him in suspicion. It took a moment, but Will finally recalled what had happened.
"Forgive me!" He called to the man, struggling to free himself from the man's grip. "II meant no harm."
The large man glared at him, then looked around as if to be certain his unwelcome guest had not caused any such harm, intentionally or no. He grunted at Will, who assayed a wan smile. "Iwas accosted by a pirate last night. I hid here. I meant no harm."
He wanted to offer to pay for any trouble, but he didn't seem to have anything with him, and he'd lost his sword last night. He had to get back to the Pearl and explain to Jack what had happened. It was obvious to him that someone was masquerading as his father. That man was not William Turner. He was certain of that much at least. For one thing, there was no resemblance between himself and the older man. Jack had assured him that he looked just like his father. For another thing, he was certain that William Turner hadn't died thinking of how he had to go and find his son. He'd had well over 20 years to find and get to know his son, and for the first 13, Will had been right where William Turner Senior had left him.
No, Willliam Turner, or Bootstrap Bill, had likely met his end thinking of the sea or of the Pearl, or of his good friend Jack Sparrow.
He wasn't bitter about it. He was getting quite used to being easily forgotten, easily left behind. It wasn't something he'd even blame his father for. Why should his last thoughts be for a son he'd never known? Why, indeed.
The large man whose establishment he'd inadvertently slept in glared at him, but set him on his feet. "A pirate 'costed ye, did 'e?" He lauged. "Well, if ye want to 'ide 'ere for a bit, that's fine, but ye'll 'ave to pay yer way." He gestured behind him. "I don't s'pose ye know anythin' about runnin' a smithy, do ye?"
Will looked where the man gestured and saw that he had indeed hidden himself in a blacksmith's shop. He'd thought he dreamed the smells of burning wood, coal, and hot steel that had tickled both his nose and his memory, but no. It had been real.
"I doI do indeed, butI need to get back to my friends. Tell them where I am" The man's wrist clamped down on his own, and Will didn't doubt the other blacksmith could snap his bone like a twig if he so desired. "But, well, I could fire up the forge for you first, if that would be payment enough."
The man smiled a nearly toothless smile, and gestured for Will to precede him to the coal pile.
**
AnaMaria watched the fist blush of dawn claim the sky, and wished she'd found a way to check on Will's condition at the very least. Jack had sent her to Nick with water and food and a few bandages, but she had returned to tell him she hadn't been allowed to see Will. Nick had taken the supplies and promised to see to Will's injuries, but he wouldn't let her near the lad.
She'd apologized, but Jack had assured her that he hadn't expected anymore than that. She knew they'd be underway soon, and the thought rankled. They'd been pirated by a pirate, and would be forced to do his bidding by the fact that he held their friend. She wasn't sure when Will Turner had become her friend, but she found it surprising. She hadn't had a friend who wasn't a pirate in a long time, though, she supposed, most pirates weren't what you could consider friends.
Jack was a different sort though, and she knew it by the way he made her smile. Even though he'd stolen her ship, she'd had no choice but to come back to him in the end. There was usually little she could do for him that he couldn't do for himself, but in this case, in payment for so much she figured she owed him, she would do what she could for Will Turner.
Of course, she realized, that probably extended to Elizabeth, for what affected her, affected the Turner lad. She would have to teach the Governor's daughter to be less high born and more of a pirate lass if she was going to keep herselffor her Will. Ana's primary concern, however, was to get in that cabin and get a look at Will. She saw quite a bit of blood, though she hadn't mentioned it to Jack. It would only upset him.
She vowed she would get a peek later, and if he was still bleeding, then she'd talk to Jack. For now, she'd just wait for an opportune moment.
**
Elizabeth hovered near the door to Jack's cabin listening for some word, some sign that Will was awake and alert. If she could just hear his voice she would breathe easier. She'd seen AnaMaria coming from inside earlier, but the woman had told her that she hadn't been allowed to tend to Will.
Disappointed, she wanted nothing more than to march in there and insist she be allowed to see to his condition. He had only just been returning to her, and to realize he was trapped within those four walls once again, perhaps in great pain, was almost unbearable for her. She remembered seeing him joining the crew in some of their chores. He'd seemed to take some pleasure in it, though whether that was the pleasure of activity after so long in a sick bed, or joy in the act of sailing, she hadn't asked. She realized some part of her had feared the answer, for, though she loved him, and had been enamored of the idea of piracy in her youth, she realized the sea, the pirate blood, might well take him from her.
Why she thought that here when it had never crossed her mind while they'd been in Port Royal she couldn't say. Perhaps he had seemed more at ease here than she'd thought he would. Perhaps he had seemed less in control at home.
She knew her father wasn't making it easy on him, and Norrington, though he'd graciously accepted her decision, had not been happy to realize that her affections belonged not only to another, but also to a blacksmith.
Will loved her. She knew that, but he reaffirmed it each time he willingly ignored some comment by someone who thought they knew what was best for a Governor's Daughter. It was when she saw in his eyes that he was far happier himself when that element of his life was gone that she realized what it was doing to him.
She would not have him feeling inferior to the sorts of people who made such remarks. None of them were fit to polish the swords he made.
That still sometimes astonished her. He had learned, in the short time they'd known each other, to make such things. What had she learned? While he forged weapons of unsurpassed worth, she learned to dance. While he fashioned tools and objet d'art with a skill and love of the craft she would never have recognized if she hadn't seen the passion, the pride he felt for his work, she had learned manners, etiquette, and how to speak French.
Whether it be a sword, a dagger, a horseshoe, a pair of door hinges, bowls, cups, belts, or any of the myriad things she'd seen him turn out of a glob of heated metal, he enjoyed the craft. He respected it, and he understood it better than most men ever understood their own lines of work.
She had not been blessed of that same joy in what she had learned. The craft of women or her own social standing was how to catch a suitable husband. What pride could she feel in a skill like that, especially since she hadn't truly mastered it?
Will Turner far surpassed any and all men she'd ever met. She would make sure he knew how she felt. She would make sure he understood how deeply she cared for him.
Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw Jack heading for his Cabin. She watched him, hearing him tell Nick that they'd be underway soon, and asking if he could check on Will. He got the answer she'd expected, and Nick had insisted that Will was fine, and he would let Jack see once they were well underway.
It made her uneasy, and she could tell from the look in Jack's eyes, it made him no less so. She moved to his side, pleased for once to be wearing AnaMaria's borrowed clothes rather than those ridiculous and cumbersome dresses she'd once worn aboard ship.
"Jack, can we trust him?" She had to know, and she didn't have anyone else to ask.
He looked at her, sorrow in his eyes. "No, love, not as far as Cotton's parrot could throw 'im."
"But, Will"
"I'll get in there one way or another, Elizabeth. I promise ye that." He was about to walk away, and she again grabbed his arm.
"Is Bootstrap Bill all right?"
"Call 'im William. He prefers it, and yes, he's awake and alert, and feelin' a bit foolish. I'd leave 'im for a bit if I were you."
She didn't want to do that. She wanted to get to know him. She wanted to ask how he could leave his son and not once come to find him. She wanted to know how he could do such a thing, and then send him a token that nearly had gotten him killed. She didn't understand it.
Elizabeth trusted Jack, though, and if he thought it best, then she'd do as he suggestedjust this once.
**
Will had started the fire, cleaned out the remains of yesterday's smithing, fetched water for the cooling of the swords, and several things that rightly should have been done the night before before finally managing to break free from the smithy himself. The blacksmith had taken advantage, but Will had hardly been in a position to complain. He thought perhaps he should return to the Painted Parrot, but surely, even here, a pub would be closed so soon after dawn. Taking quick strides, he headed instead to the docks. If Jack and Elizabeth weren't aboard the Pearl, he could wait for them there.
As he neared the Pearl's berth, a fear and surprise gripped his heart. He broke into a run, expecting at any moment to see the sight before him shift, for surely it was his perspective that made this impossible thing seem to be true.
He reached the dock and stood staring out at the Black Pearl as she made her way towards the horizon. Jack and Elizabeth had left him stranded in a Pirate Port without a penny to his name. The thought left him numb and cold even as the first caress of the sun began to warm his skin.
To Be Continued
ErinRua: Thanks! I was afraid I'd lost my must entirely, but was I thrilled I'd kept trying when she finally showed up. I admit to some trepidation as well. Everyone seemed to like the idea of Bootstrap, that I wasn't certain the switch would be accepted. (I'd had that little plot twist in mind from the moment I'd introduced the idea that Bootstrap was alive, though, so I couldn't just give it up!) I'm glad you liked it. It's flattering coming from such a fine POTC author!
Ping*pong5: I'm glad you enjoyed the switch. I've got a lot planned for Nick, and I am relieved that my must is cooperating. I'm hoping to keep up these longer chapters, but I guess I'll just have to see how things go. Of course, I was disappointed that Johnny didn't get the Oscar, but—and this might be just the way I interpreted things—Johnny looked relieved! I'd have chosen Bill Murray over Sean Penn, though, but then Mystic River isn't my cup of tea.
The Black Pearl is Freedom: Thanks! Keep reading and reviewing!
TheRowan: Thanks, I do appreciate that. I know Jack doesn't have great luck with friends, but I've got more details of the Nick thing. They really were great friends. It's just some details that haven't quite come up yet. Probably in the next chapter. I did not realize how many exclamation marks I used in my reviews. I will make a conscious effort to tone that down. As for the Billy Joel reference, in one of the earlier chapters, I forget which, I had Jack say to Elizabeth, "Captain Jack will get you by tonight. He'll take you to your special Island." Which is of course a line from the Billy Joel song Captain Jack. I am a HUGE (or as West Wing fans say YUUUUUGE) Billy Joel fan.
LordLanceahlot: Hi and welcome back to POTC fic! If you want to read some great fics, check out ErinRua's The African Star! Excellent! (Oops! There go those exclamation marks! My bad.) I liked writing the Will and Elizabeth kiss scene as much as everyone seems to have enjoyed it. There's way more Nick backstory coming. I promise. It's okay to hate him, but he wasn't always a bad guy.
Voy222: I'm glad you like it. I think there may have been a problem with fanfiction.net, because it doesn't end with your'. I've checked and it looks okay here. If it is still reading like that let me know, because I'll have to report the bug to the website. Thanks for the feedback.
Catherinexxix: Thanks for that. I went through so many different versions of that line that it ceased to have meaning for me. I'm glad it came through. Actually, I put in a lot of work on all the passages you've cited, and it's a relief when someone points them out. I thank you for your attention to detail in your review. Please keep reading and reviewing.
Mellaithwen-JediKnightess: See, I believed you when you said you knew it. I am always under the impression that my plot twists are obvious, probably because I see them coming. I'm glad you liked it. I hope the author alerts work this time.
Jackfan2: I can't believe you got an author alert for a chapter you haven't read, either, especially this one! I myself got 19 author alerts for the same chapter of an LOTR story I've been following and it drove me nuts. It seems fanfiction.net has cleared up the problem, and it is a relief, isn't it? I am glad you like the moments aboard the Pearl between Jack and Will and between Ana and Elizabeth. I put those things in mainly for myself, so it's always a pleasure to discover someone else likes them. I haven't yet decided about Ana and Jack, though I am leaning in that direction. Yes, Nick will be all over the place from this point on. Lots to reveal and all that, and definitely more flashbacks. Thanks for the review.
Lady Lunas: More mystery to come. I will get to the Box much later, but I will get to it. Nick's reasons for impersonating Bootstrap will be elaborated on very soon.
BrokenSkye: Thanks. I've got plenty more. Please keep reading and reviewing.