Disclaimer: I, once again, own nothing recognizable from the movie, or the ride for that matter. For once, however, I do own the plot and any OC's that it comes with.

A/N: Welcome to HTPAWTYBPH, or as it is more commonly known as, HTSAH 2 (pronunciation: hut-suh-too.) We are on the road to marital bliss. Here, thar be monsters.

1.

Okay, so, where were we? Oh yeah, Will was kissing me, and Elizabeth had passed out from the shock of being snubbed. Life is good.

"Christina, are you quite sure you want to marry him?" my had father said, after pulling up Elizabeth and letting her lean on his shoulder, the way he used to when we were little.

I snapped back to attention and looked at my father. "What? Of course I'm sure I want to marry him. Why wouldn't I?" I asked. My father looked around, and then looked at me.

"Well, he is a blacksmith," my father said. I glared.

"I think we've established the fact that he's a pirate. And even if he wasn't, I'd still marry him. I will not be jerked about by the strings of propriety. Good day, father. I'll be home for dinner," I said angrily and turned away. Will followed me.

"Christina, wait," he said. I turned around, angry and hurt, even if he wasn't.

"I'm sorry, Will," I said quietly. We were standing by the very statue that I had spotted Jack from so many weeks ago. Okay, so it wasn't that long ago but still, a lot had happened in that time.

For example, I went on an adventure, met a lot of pirates, dueled with pirates, learned how to sail (kind of), defied my father about a million times, and nearly died when I got slashed in the ribs. Oh yes, and I also fell in love (well, I realized it was love and not some stupid infatuation), and actually had someone love me back.

"Shh," Will had said, "It's all right. Don't worry about what your father said. I don't care," he continued, pulling me next to him and wrapping his arms around me. I sighed heavily and leaned my head on his shoulder, the whole hugging thing was very new to me and a little awkward.

"I care, though. How could he say such things, and in front of you?" I said angrily. Will sighed.

"It's fine -"

"No, its not. My father is a horrid, puffed up, wig-wearing scoundrel and I hate him! He worries about propriety and what the good people of Port Royal will say, when he really means is that he's worried about what all this pompous, rich and powdered bilge-eating brown-nosed friends say about me!" I snapped.

Will chuckled. "You have the dirtiest mouth I've ever heard on a woman," he mused.

I smiled weakly. "That's not the point! He's not even worried about me, but what I will reflect on him! And he doesn't have the right to be so awful to you," I grumbled.

Will grinned, "I'm used to it," he said. I glared up at him.

"Used to it? Used to being put down like that?…oh, if I was there I would have smacked every single bast -" before I could finish, Will's lips closed over mine.

"Mmph," I said, and pulled away after a moment.

"If it doesn't bother me, why does it bother you?" he asked.

"It should bother you," I said moodily, pulling away again.

Will looked crestfallen. I laughed. "Come on, Will, lets go," I said, and started to walk again.

We walked to the shop. This was where I spent most of my time now, and Will let us in. "Mr. Brown?" I called, not hearing the tell-tale snoring that usually gave him away. Nope, all was silent, and the donkey that was usually there was no where to be found. Will frowned.

"Doesn't look like anyone's been here in weeks," he said.

"How do you figure?" I asked sarcastically, still disgruntled.

Will nodded to the empty bottles of stale rum on the floor, ignoring my bad attitude. I snorted.

"So Mr. Brown doesn't get anything done, unless you're here to do it?" I asked. Will sighed and walked over to the stool where the hammer lay. Under it was a huge stack of papers.

"Oh, bloody hell," Will cursed. I walked up to him, a bit self conscious. I mean, okay, until recently, I was Will's best friend. And now, I was his fiancé. Well, at least I think so. I mean, I don't have a ring, and there isn't even a date set, and good GOD, I think he is mad! My sister was right there for him, all set up for him to marry and he goes and asks me? This is some cruel prank, and I don't think I should have told Jack to sail away and leave me here.

"Christina?" Will asked, touching my arm. I jumped and looked up into his eyes.

"Yes? What is it? What happened?" I asked.

Will looked hard at me, and I squirmed, looking away. "You look like you've seen a ghost. Are you quite sure that you're alright?" he asked me, his hand moving up and down my arm. I swallowed hard, not really able to concentrate.

"I'm…fine. Its just. Well, the wound. That I h-have," I stammered, trying very hard to look away from his eyes, which were not leaving mine. "Yes, the wound. The pirate wound. Not quite healed yet. And sometimes it twinges," I said, my voice going strangely high pitched. I made my eyes as wide as they could possible get without taking over my face. Please believe me, please believe me, I thought. I didn't need him to know exactly what happened to my stomach every time he touched me. Or looked at me. Or breathed at me. Because, quite frankly, I didn't know what the hell was going on to begin with!

Will nodded slowly, "Are you sure you wouldn't rather go home? I could walk you to the mansion." he offered. I shook my head quickly.

"No. I don't want to go back there. My father is going to have to rehearse the lecture that he'll give me tonight while we eat. One of his favorite pastimes is giving me indigestion, you know. You see, he screams so much whenever I do something he doesn't approve of, that it forces me to eat fast so that I can leave," I babbled. Will smiled, kissing me softly on the lips. Good lord, he was good at that…

"Sometimes he makes thing up just to yell at me," I murmured. Oh yes, good job, Christina, just keep spitting out stupidity while he kisses you…

"Well, if you're sure," he said. Sure about what? I picked up the stack of papers and cleared my throat, trying very hard to make sure my lips hadn't turned to mush.

"What's all this?" I asked. Will sighed and rubbed his face tiredly.

"New orders for new swords. There's got to be about eight in all, and its not easy making each saber to the liking of each customer," he said.

"Oh," was the best thing I could come up with. I walked away and looked about the shop. There were swords everywhere. Some of them were very different than the others, looking more crude. I smiled slightly, Will must have made these during the first few years as Mr. Brown's apprentice. They got better and better as I looked on.

"Will, you have so many swords already made. Why cant you just sell these and save yourself the time?" I asked. Will was sorting through the orders and didn't hear me at first, I suppose, looking up a long moment later.

"Oh…because, each order is very specific. And in order for me to do my job, I have to fulfill all the requirements and requests," he said. I walked up to him and took a scrap of parchment.

"Two standard training sabers," I read, raising an eyebrow. "You must have made those before, this order is as good as done," I said, glancing around the shop. Will glared.

"That isn't the point," he said. I blinked. A little huffy now were we?

"Or is a matter of pride?" I said gently. Will looked up.

"I'm sorry, Christina. I'm not in the best of moods, there's a lot that I've got to do," he said, running a hand through his hair. I sighed. Not in the best of moods. No, of course not. I tried to kill the feeling that perhaps this was because he had promised himself off to the ugly duckling when he really wanted the swan. And the only difference was that the "ugly duckling" was all grown up and still…an ugly duckling.

"Will," I said quietly. He looked up.

"What's wrong, Christina?" he asked quietly. I bit my lip and swallowed hard. I wanted to ask him why he chose me. Was it just some ploy to get my hopes up, and then dash them when he came to realize what a stupid mistake he had made? No, it couldn't be. Will could be dense at times, as dense as a rock, but he wasn't cruel.

I forced myself to smile, and pushed those dark thoughts away. Mostly because I didn't want to hear his answer. For now, I wanted to believe that he was as deeply in love with me as he had said, even if it caused the both of us pain. Selfish, I know, but there you have it.

"I'd really like to stay and watch you make all the swords," I said. He looked hard and me, and I smiled wider, grimacing inside. Then he smiled, and I almost let out a sigh of relief.

"Its going to be very boring," he said. I smiled again, all the questions that I wanted to ask were shuffling around in my brain, tickling my scalp as if they were pulling my hair from the inside.

"I'm sure I'll love it," I said.

1.

I don't think I would be able to make a living as a blacksmith. It gets unbearably hot in the shop when Will is making each sword. In fact, in the four hours that I had sat in the background and watched Will work, I counted at least three hundred droplets of sweat dripping down my back. Okay, so I lost count after fifteen. But that's still a lot. Especially in a huge stupid dress that made me look like I had a carnival under my skirts.

Now, I had watched him at work before, and under normal conditions, I was in a shift, which was much easier to breathe in. But under the circumstances (meaning, I wasn't exactly sure where I stood with Will anymore) I kept on my stupid huge dress and sweated like a pig. Very unpleasant.

My hair fell limp after the first twenty minutes, and part of me was regretting how I had let Mary style my hair by leaving it nearly all down. Not only did she go against the style that was popular in Port Royal, and make me look even more like the odd one than I already am, but when it is left down in warm weather, it tends to grow into a massive ball of tangles that has about a three foot radius.

It was stifling in the shop, but I did not want to be rude and leave and besides, when Will works, he puts everything into what he does. Meaning he gets very sweaty and his shirt was unbuttoned. And if I have nothing on Elizabeth, the one thing that I can have against her is all the times that I have seen Will with his shirt unbuttoned.

And of course, when he unbutton his shirt and kept melting the metal and then cooling it, and then pounding away, all the while a look of utmost concentration on his face - well, lets just say the things that it did to my stomach were rather odd. I was dimly away that every time he looked up to take a breath, my heart would jump and my face would get hotter than the very atmosphere of the room itself.

I sighed angrily at myself and caught Will looking at me out of the corner of his eye. As soon as he noticed me looking -and how could he not, I mean, I was staring at him like a cat stares out the window - he went back to work. But after a few moments, he did it again. I raised and eyebrow and took out my fan, trying very hard to learn how to breathe the air as opposed to drinking it.

Will put down his hammer and walked up to me. He took the fan from my hand and put it down by my side. "Will," I said, but before I could finish (or start) asking what he was doing, his lips were on mine. Again. And as pleasant as that was, it made me wonder why exactly he wanted to be kissing me all the time. We barely talked anymore. I mean, it was great because that meant that I didn't have to hear him talk in sonnets about Elizabeth's beauty, but I also enjoyed talking to him in the rare circumstances the he talked about something besides her.

Meanwhile, I was pushed up against a pillar in the blacksmith shop, trying to remember how I'd learned to breath through my nose. When he finally pulled away, I couldn't remember my name.

"Will, you have to finish that sword...you know..." I said, leaning on him. This was pathetic. My brain had melted with the rest of me in this insufferable heat. I shouldn't be turning into a puddle of non-intelligence just because Will's lips happen to fall on mine once in a while. I sighed and ran a hand through my hair.

"Christina, its getting late, you should be going home," Will said, finishing on the….what…third sword of the day? I'd been hear all day, since about eight in the morning. We'd only left to get lunch at the market, which was something that I'd rarely done, as the only time I was out of the mansion was to learn how to duel, and I never had time for anything else.

Will opened the windows to the shop and walked back to me, taking my hand in his. "Let's go, I'll walk you home," he said. He led me out of the shop and we walked through the darkened streets. There wasn't a soul out to be seen, and it was a bit far to the mansion. That was fine with me, it was a cool night, and I needed time to sort out my thoughts, which has been chasing each other in circles all day.

"It's beautiful tonight," Will said softly, pulling my hand to his elbow as we walked slowly. The air held traces of hovering salt water, I could taste it on my lips.

"Hmm," I said, trying to figure out why it felt so good to be around Will. I mean, yes, part of the reason could be because I'm in love with him, but was it supposed to be so addictive?

I suppose I should be very grateful that I am going to get married for love, because arranged marriages were much more common instead. And I shudder to think of what my father would choose as a "suitable" husband for me. Images of Katherine's Petruchio come to mind, and I'd not like to be starved and kept sleepless in order to conform to the image of a proper lady. Ah, but my dear sister Elizabeth would be like Bianca, the ever beautiful and gracious younger sister.

"What are you thinking?" Will whispered in my ear, and I trembled against my will.

"Shakespeare," I said hoarsely, turning to look at him. It was just then that I'd realized we'd stopped walking. Will smiled a bit and we continued walking.

"Have you ever read Shakespeare, Will?" I asked. The smile faded from his lips and left me wondering what I'd said that was wrong.

He sighed, "No, can't say that I have," he said quietly. He stood up a bit rigidly, and seemed agitated.

"Well, you should. I have some books in my room that I'd be glad to let you borrow, if you like. I mean, whenever you have time. When those orders are all done, I mean. You've only got about five more to make, right? And then we can - "

"I can't read Shakespeare, Christina," Will said. I frowned, totally confused.

"Well, why not? The plays are simply amazing, Will, I know you'll love them, my mother brought the books from London, they were hers," I said. She'd given Elizabeth her jewelry, and she'd given me her books. Personally, I thought the books were more valuable, but that's me. If I told my sister such things, she'd probably faint. Luckily, Elizabeth isn't talking to me much nowadays.

"Don't worry about it, Will, I'll let you borrow them, though," I offered meekly. Will stopped again and looked at me angrily.

"I can't read them, Christina," he said harshly. I blinked.

"My mother used to read to me, before she died. I haven't read anything like that since," he said coldly, and I felt a chill at the harshness in his voice. Will never spoke about his parents. Both of them were dead. His mother, when he was very young and soon after that his father.

"I'm sorry, Will, I didn't know," I whispered, cursing myself over and over again for pushing when I should have just let the subject drop.

"It's alright," he said gruffly, and we walked on in silence.

To get to the mansion, you have to go through a very dark part of town, which is why my father usually sends a carriage to pick me up. One would think that this is a kind thing to do, but it really isn't. Because most of the time he's waiting in the carriage with Elizabeth, ready to berate me as soon as a step in about why my hair is so rumpled and why I'm flushed.