Disclaimer: Sadly I don't own any of these characters from POTC.
Summary: Pre-Movie. Will gets an unexpected visitor during a storm. Pure angst and fluff. Will/Elizabeth.
A/N: 2/5/06 I came back and cleaned this up some. Enjoy!
As Will spun the sword before himself to examine it, the weapon's blade caught a glint of light from the pile of hot embers. Carefully returning the weapon to the fire, he wiped tiny beads of perspiration from his furrowed brow and once again began shaping the metal.
A gust of cool ocean air blew through the smithy and Will abandoned his work to find the source of the draft. A small window hung open at the building's façade, a shutter noisily rapping against the wall as it flapped about violently in the wind.
The rainy season in Port Royal could be quite unpredictable. The sky, which had been merely dotted with clouds a few hours prior, was now black and foreboding. As Will approached the window, he saw people outside rush past the smithy hurriedly, the street slowly emptying. Startlingly, a massive boom of rumbling thunder shook the walls. And then came the rain.
Will reached outside to pull closed the stubborn window and latch it as water poured down from the sky in sheets. His thoughts turned immediately to his master, Mr. Brown who had still not returned to the smithy since the previous evening.
He shook the water off from his arm and mumbled under his breath, "At least he's under a roof at the tavern…" The wind hummed low pitches from outside as it whipped around the building. Will walked back across the room, returning to his sword and tending to the glowing embers of the fire.
Suddenly, the loud rapping sound began again. Exhaling a puff of frustration, Will set the weapon down and turned for the shutter.
The noise abruptly ceased as his eyes set on the still-closed window.
"Interesting…" he muttered, wiping his hands clean with a rag.
The noise returned, and this time Will could clearly tell the banging was instead coming from the front door to the smithy. He rushed to lift the heavy latch, after which the wind from outside pushed the door to swing open against him. Rain blew in fiercely, and a drenched Miss Elizabeth Swann stumbled forward through the entry into the arms of a very surprised William Turner.
"Miss Swann!" He helped her regain her balance while one arm forced the door closed, latching it securely.
Desperately trying to catch her breath, Elizabeth continued to hold onto his shoulders to stay upright. Her golden hair was completely soaked, while her dress, the bottom half of the skirts dark with mud, was actually creating large puddles of water near her feet. Will tried to avert his eyes from her form as Elizabeth's tightly cinched bosom heaved for air, her wringing wet dress clinging to her every curve.
Between gasps she managed to exclaim, "Will… I…. I thought I'd surely drown!"
His dark eyes flooded with concern and he took her small hand between his own, caught off guard when she let out a small cry and pulled her hand away. Will was entirely confused until she turned her palms over before him, revealing lightly scraped flesh.
"I was walking back to the house when the rain started," she muttered as he led her past the smithy back to the small living quarters. Her stride was quite uneven as she continued, "The heel of my boot simply broke off and I had a fall, right in the center of the street."
Will helped her sit in the single chair in his room, kneeling before her.
"We'll take care of your hands, all right?" He looked up to her almond eyes, and she nodded back at him. He stood up to retrieve clean water and bandages from the next room, and Elizabeth's gaze followed him intently until he disappeared past the doorway.
She called to him as she heard cabinets opening and closing from down the hall, "I am quite sorry for intruding on you like this. I… I didn't know where else to go. You do forgive me, don't you Will?"
He appeared again in the doorway.
"Always," he replied, managing a gentle smile.
He returned to kneeling before her, setting down a small bowl of water, some towels, and bandages. Taking one of her hands in both of his own, he tended to her scrapes.
"It is always a pleasure to see you, Miss Swann. I am just sorry today for these circumstances that brought you to my door," he glanced at her face for just a moment.
She placed her other hand upon his, and he ceased in wrapping the bandage, their eyes meeting and locking. As their gazes came together, the space between them seemed to be consumed by the warmth of their bodies.
"Please," she almost whispered. "Please call me Elizabeth."
Will looked away, his desire welling up within him. He tried to change the subject, finishing up on her scraped hands.
"Good as new, Miss Swann," he quickly replied, handing her a towel. "For your hair," he softly added.
She released a small, fustated breath before pulling her lips closed in a small, forced smile.
"Thank you," she muttered, accepting the towel just as a cold shiver ran up her spine. After a few moments of wringing water from her hair, she looked over at Will once more. "Aren't you going to ask me why I was walking alone in town?"
Her voice broke him out of a trace with a start—He had been absolutely staring at the pale skin of her neck as she craned it to one side while drying her hair. He awkwardly shot his eyes down to the floor.
"I didn't think it proper," he answered gently.
Without moving from her craned position, her eyes fixated on his, still staring at the floor. She waited there for his eyes to return to hers, and when they did she immediately responded, "And yet it is proper for a gentleman to gaze as such upon a lady?" She smirked, returning upright and handing him back the towel.
He choked slightly, and stood up, sitting at the foot of the bed across from her.
"All right," he replied, his eyes gaining a faint mischievous glint. "Why were you walking alone in town? And in this weather?"
"The weather was fine when I left home," she shot back. Then her face softened, and she looked down at her bandaged hands in her lap. "And I was walking alone in town to enjoy some little freedom as my Father is away with his work."
She shivered again and this time Will pulled the blanket off his bed and wrapped it around her.
"Thank you," she replied softly, pulling the blanket tightly about her shoulders. She felt her body relax as she breathed in Will's scent, dark and sweet, from the fabric.
Will felt her eyes follow him as he sat back down upon the edge of the bed. He looked up at her.
"Everyone needs some time for just themselves," he offered.
Her eyes met his as her lips formed a gentle pout.
"It's true," she replied, "And it's one of the few things in this world that I am not granted. Someone is always there to think and act for me 'on my behalf.' It's maddening, Will! It's either my Father, or 'proper' English ladies, even my teachers…" She breathed in deeply to calm herself before continuing. "And now… Captain Norrington."
Will swallowed a large lump in his throat. He knew that the two had been courting for weeks now, and the idea frankly made him miserable with jealousy.
Elizabeth went on, but the Captain's name hung in the air of the bedroom like a ghost. The wind continued to groan from outside as it forced its way past the walls of the building.
"I do realize that I am lucky, Will. Honestly, I do." Elizabeth looked down at her hands. "I know it's selfish of a lady in my position to be so upset over these things…"
"No--" Will interrupted, standing up from the bed. "Everyone deserves to live their own life, to choose their path. It is your right, as granted by God."
Elizabeth stood up from her chair and took a step towards Will, abandoning the warm blanket. She reached for his hand, and his eyes met hers once more, sending a slow burn through her entire body.
She shook her head, a breath escaping from her lips that almost sounded like a small laugh. But then Will saw the moisture pooling in her deep amber eyes.
"How is it that you can understand my heart as simply as the whole world can deny it?" She looked to him for an answer, but his eyes looked away and he remained silent. She held his hand tighter between her small, trembling fingers. His gaze remained downward, away from her, but she continued, "To Norrington I am nothing but a prize. Another medal for his sash-- a posession." Her voice seemed to drift away. "That is all I am to him…" Will flinched at a dull pain in his chest.
Her eyes pleaded. "William," she whispered. "Tell me… tell me what I am… to you." She swallowed hard. "Tell me what I could be." Her heart ached for his, her lip quivering from the cold and her sudden revelation.
She clung to his hand, desperately searching his features.
He remained turned away, unable to bring his eyes to take her in.
Elizabeth looked down, releasing his hand while her eyes filled with tears. A flush rose over her skin, embarrasment and devestation slowly seeping their cruel way through her body. In an attempt at collecting herself, she forced a smile, but her heart betrayed her again-- a feather-soft sob escaping from her lips the instant they curled upward.
At the sound, all of Will's resolve failed.
Elizabeth brought a hand to her face and slowly turned to leave the room, but Will grabbed her arm. She turned over her shoulder, revealing to him a tear as it slowly slid a path down her pale cheek. Will's eyes fixed onto hers, a shaky breath escaping his lips.
Elizabeth had never had a man look on her in such a manner. His eyes had darkened, filled with a secret desire, and they melted into her very soul. Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat.
"Wait," Will spoke softly, gazing into her eyes, and he cleared the distance between them so they were mere inches from one another. He set his hands carefully at her waist, then gently trailed his fingertips up her side, at an excruciatingly slow pace. His hand curved around onto her back, the other still perched at her delicate waist, and he pulled her flush against his warm body. He felt her breath quicken.
"I've made you cry… Forgive me…" He whispered into her slightly-damp hair.
She closed her eyes for an instant, drawing upon all her inner strength and she stepped back away from him, shivering as she pulled out of his embrace. Her eyes were still filled with tears.
"Then answer me, Will." The words were soft but stern. "What am I to you?" She tried desperately to keep her voice from shaking.
Will took her bandaged hand and rested it lightly on his chest. He placed his hands gently upon her face, carefully wiping her tears. He looked into her eyes.
"Elizabeth..." he answered, and her name rung through his entire being. "To me, you are a dream." He lifted her hand to his face, lightly kissing the bandages. "You are the sweetest dream," he repeated, each word full of sincerity and shaded by a hidden grief. He slowly returned her hand to her side and released it. "And that is all you can ever be to me."
Suddenly, a crash came from the front of the smithy. Will shielded Elizabeth protectively as they heard several men shouting in the next room.
Captain Norrington, brandishing a sword and followed by a handful of soldiers, appeared in the doorway of the bedroom and Will practically jumped away from Elizabeth.
"Elizabeth!" Norrington exclaimed while pulling her away from the blacksmith and stepping between the two of them. "Has this man harmed you in any way?"
"No! James, of course not!" she cried out. "I was caught in the storm and I fell in front of his shop-- he was kind enough to help me."
Norrington put down his sword and directed at Will, "Well then, I'm sure the Governor will like to show you his gratitude upon returning to port. Thank you, boy."
Will glanced up at Elizabeth. "It was an honor to be of service," he bowed his head to her. "Good day, Miss Swann."
He watched her face fall.
Norrington turned to Elizabeth, taking off his jacket and setting it upon her shoulders, despite her attempts at refusing it. "You must be freezing, you poor thing! Your chamber maid sent for me, she was worried sick for your safety. Let's get you back to your Father's house, shall we?" He placed his hand on her back and began ushering her out of the room.
"Yes, of course," Elizabeth replied, glancing over her shoulder back to Will as she was pulled from the bedroom. Her eyes caught his for just an instant, and her heart sank to see his miserable state. Led out of the smithy and onto the street, Elizabeth saw that the rain had nearly stopped and people were once again milling though town. As if nothing has happened… she thought to herself.
A carriage was waiting. Norrington helped her up into it as Will stood, still surrounded by soldiers, in the open doorway of the smithy. Elizabeth sat down and focused her gaze directly forward, unable to bear seeing Will's expression. After climbing up into the carriage and seating himself next to Elizabeth, Norrington called down to Will, "Thank you again for your help, Mister…?"
"—Turner." Will replied, forcing a small smile.
"Right," Norrington closed the carriage door.
Elizabeth breathed in deeply. While Norrington was latching the door from the inside, she turned her head and looked down to Will from her perch in the carriage. Her eyes still glittering from her tears, she mouthed the words "Forgive me."
Will watched as the carriage sped down the street, taking Elizabeth back to her side of the world.
"Always, my Elizabeth," he whispered to himself.
"Always."
THE END.
Please don't be too rough on me with the reviews as this is my first fan-fiction. Thanks!
-Semplice