Before The Dawn
Chapter II: Of Weddings and Surprises
By FalconWing
Jack impatiently swatted at a disobedient lock of hair and took a last glance in the mirror.
Looking back at him was a respectable gentleman of medium stature, long dark hair meticulously combed back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck. He was garbed in a fluffy white shirt that was, on closer inspection much like his own only cleaner, a plain, though finely made, brown vest, black pants, white stockings and the rather poncy shoes that the aristocracy seemed to insist upon these days. He had to squint at the image in the mirror to catch even a glimpse of the scruffy pirate he was.
He tried to stop himself from wincing.
Gone were his dreadlocks and much-loved trinkets. Gone was the twin braided beard, as was the kohl from around his eyes. And gone was his trusty tri-cornered hat and red bandana.
He settled for a long-suffering sigh.
Will and Elizabeth had better appreciate the pains to which he had gone to attend this wedding.
Turning smartly on his heel, he placed atop his head the ridiculous feathered hat that Gibbs had found and strode across his cabin to the door – strode like a civilized landlubber, not his usual swagger. Throwing open the doors and walking out onto the deck he gripped onto his veneer of dignity as the crew stopped in their work to gawk as he passed.
Climbing the stairs to the quarterdeck in a stiff, controlled manner, he turned to Anamaria. She had been leaning, relaxed and obviously in deep thought, against the helm, lightly gripping the wheel. She looked up as he approached and her grip on the wheel completely slackened as she stared at him in utter astonishment.
A smirk threatened – Anamaria was a sharp lass and it wasn't often he could surprise her, so whenever he did he was sure to relish in the occasion – but he held it back, opting instead to keep up the snobbish façade.
He pursed his lips, lifted his chin and looked down on her.
"Is there a problem, miss? This ship would have swung at least seven points to starboard due to your inattention if it weren't for the fact that we have dropped anchor," he intoned pompously, his words clipped and short – much like the good Commodore's – and all trace of a lower class accent gone.
If anything, this only served to make her gape all the more. She gulped. "Ja – Jack?!"
He bowed low before presenting his arm with a flourish. "Would you care to join me, my lady? We have reached Port Royal and, as I shall soon be departing, a few moments in your company would lighten my spirit immeasurably." Only the mocking glint in his eyes and the tell-tale twitch of his lips gave away that he was anything but serious.
She had regained her composure, crossing her arms across her chest and raising an eyebrow. His arm remained unaccepted until he sighed in disappointment and lowered it back to his side. She shook her head as though in irritation but now it was his turn to recognize the small upturning of her mouth as a sign that she was actually rather amused by his antics.
A loud bell startled them out of their conversation. He started to curse but snapped his jaw closed – wealthy men did not swear. It had taken him longer to get ready than he had thought. He had planned to stop by and visit the happy couple before the ceremony but as he was running behind schedule, he would just have to turn up. As the bell had signaled, it was now noon and he had managed to find out that the wedding began at twelve thirty up at the fort.
He would have to hurry. The Pearl was anchored in a small cove just around from Port Royal, which meant that while they could avoid unwanted attention, it made it quite a long way to the fort. He would only just make it.
Abandoning all semblances of poise and decorum, he jumped into a row boat and rowed himself around the point, into the bay and up to the docks. Leaping out, he ignored the insistent tilt of the ground and threw three shillings at the harbormaster, who only had time to say "Welcome to Po–" before Jack was past him and sprinting through the streets. He didn't even notice the strange looks he was getting as he inelegantly clamped his hat to his head to keep it from flying off.
He raced up the hill and its winding roads, right to the last corner where he slid to a stop. He hastily smoothed back his hair, adjusting his hat and straightening his outfit. It wouldn't do to arrive looking flustered. He managed not to flinch as he wiggled his toes. These shoes were definitely not made for running.
Taking a deep breath and squaring his shoulders, he rounded the corner. Milling around were a number of high class and well-off individuals all standing in small groups, chatting. He had made it on time – a little early even. He was just sighing in relief when he saw a familiar face.
Commodore Norrington was immersed in a conversation with a young lady. He would have liked a better look but he didn't catch more than the fact that she was wearing too much makeup before he managed to blend back into the crowd. Now would not be a good time to be recognized.
He achieved said blending by turning to the nearest group and doing what he did best – talking. He introduced himself as an old friend of the bride and hailing from St Kitts. He informed them all, that he was a wealthy merchant and was well into bombarding them with the details of how to store cargo correctly when he was interrupted by a polite cough from beside him.
He started and turned towards the man standing next to him. "Yes?" he inquired demurely.
"Well," The man's garish red waistcoat was almost enough to make him shudder. "Although all this information is very enlightening, I was wondering who you are."
Jack stared at him blankly. He couldn't believe he hadn't thought of a name! "Oh. Yes of course," he replied, thinking furiously. "I'm John." He blurted the first name that came to mind and held out his hand. "John Smith."
It was right at this moment that the gates opened and two guards started checking for invitations and letting people through. It was quick work for Jack to slip through unnoticed while the guards were otherwise occupied. Other guests were sitting down in the seats that were lined in rows. He paused briefly to consider. Any old fool could lie but it took a bit of talent to not get found. Jack knew that to get away with it you needed to keep to the truth as much as you can and stick with a lie once you've told it. He had told people that he knew the bride so in keeping with that he sat himself on the bride's side of the aisle.
People continued to enter and the seats gradually filled up until there were, to his best guess, approximately a hundred and fifty people all crammed into the courtyard. Though, to be exact, crammed was a bit exaggerated. A little crowded would be a better description – the courtyard was a big area, after all.
Jack found himself squeezed between a rather portly fellow who was taking up half of Jack's seat as well as his own and a dour, middle aged woman with a bit too much face powder on and far too much perfume. It burned his nose and throat and he could feel the tickling sensation that was telling him that he needed to sneeze.
So he did…
Just as a silence descended, greeting the entrance of the groom. Jack swallowed and gave a small smile as everyone around him turned to look at him. Not exactly the best way to remain inconspicuous.
Will looked much as he had the last time Jack had seen him, a year ago. His face had matured a bit and he seemed slightly less stiff and worried, though excitement showed clearly on his face. If possible, he looked even more like his father. In his mind, Jack could almost see William senior standing there in his son's place, like he was on the day he married Will's mother.
Jack jerked back to reality and mentally scolded himself for dwelling on the past. What was done was done, and no amount of imagining was going to bring his old friend back.
He fixed his mind in the present and turned with the rest of the audience as violins signaled the arrival of the bride.
– – – – –
Will was floating on air. His cheeks hurt from grinning so much but he didn't notice.
He was marrying Elizabeth. He couldn't have been more ecstatic.
For a moment, standing at the end of the aisle by the altar, he had been distracted for a moment by a loud sneeze. Everyone had been staring accusingly at a man halfway down on the left of the aisle – the bride's side. He had long black hair tied back in a ponytail and a large feathered hat. The man sported an apologetic grin and Will couldn't help the feeling that he knew this man.
But then the music had started and he had been absolutely captivated by the beautiful apparition making her way towards him. The bride. His bride.
"Elizabeth."
He breathed her name gently as she came to stand beside him, taking her hand.
The rest of the ceremony passed in a blur of joy. Flashes flickered across his vision in quick progression – her placing on his finger the plain band of gold that signified so much…her sweet smile as she vowed to love, honor and obey him…the minister pronouncing them husband and wife…that golden kiss that sealed the marriage.
Now they walked around the after-party at the Governor's mansion hand in hand greeting the guests. Elizabeth excused herself to go to the bathroom and he continued moving amongst the visitors.
A glimpse of a feathered hat caught his attention and he looked closer at the man wearing it. He could have sworn he remembered this man from somewhere. Of course you do Will, he told himself, else he wouldn't have been invited. But the nagging feeling wouldn't go away.
Then the man turned to his neighbor and said loudly, "…and so I said 'Stop blowing holes in my ship!'" The group surrounding him burst into laughter, but Will didn't notice.
His jaw dropped in disbelief. Accent or not, manners or not, Will would recognize that voice anywhere.
"Jack!" he exclaimed, incredulous.
Jack seemed to have heard him, for he began to turn but it was at that precise moment that the front door flew completely off its hinges as a massive group of unkempt vagabonds charged into the room brandishing swords and pistols.
One man, who appeared to be their leader, stepped forward. "Now, I want y'all t' come nice an' quiet like when we tell ye too, a'right?"
Commodore Norrington stepped forward from where he was standing. His face was clear of all emotion. "And why would we do that?" his voice matched his face – cold and expressionless and yet iron-hard. Before the man had a chance to answer, movement at the top of the stairs drew everyone's attention. Will's breath hitched in his throat and his world threatened to crash to the ground.
Elizabeth stood at the head of the stairs, face stricken with fear. Behind her stood another brigand and pointed at the side of her head was the shining, silver barrel of a pistol.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –
Another chapter, yay! I tried to update it pretty fast. Hope you enjoyed it. Please review and tell me what you thought. Reviewers will be absolutely treasured forever.
Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter: coolpuella ( ), Savvy-Rum-Drinker, Anita Lawn, Savvyness, Alaawya and Redbud-Tree.
Lotsa Luv…
FalconWing.
