Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Here we are, the last chapter. Finally.

The day of my wedding raced to greet me and I found myself mildly nervous. Elizabeth, the wonder that she is, had helped all the preparations speed by, a fact noticed only by the shrewdest of old maids and widows. Most of them had to good sense to keep quiet about it, but those who did run their mouths were shushed almost disdainfully. Everyone was excited about the upcoming wedding, and many were sure the speed with which is was planned was only due to the bride's eagerness to be safely tucked away with her young man.

I was not nervous to be marrying Will, of course, because I had been there and done that before. Indeed, I just wanted the ceremony to be over quickly so Will and I could start our life together properly, in our own home.

My father offered to have a house built for us as part of my dowry, but Will was quite adamant about wanting to purchase a home for himself. Even my most arduous urging couldn't make him accept, and it seemed for a while that the wedding would be postponed for a terribly long time because of my fool husband's stubbornness. That turned out not to be the case, however.

Will had saved up a fair amount of money in all his years as blacksmith, even though most of them were spent as an apprentice. While Mr. Brown, Port Royal's secret alcoholic, had been a drunk man he had also been a fair one. He didn't allow anyone to know that it was Will fulfilling all their orders, but he did at least give a small amount of the profit to Will, starting from his sixteenth birthday. Not enough of the profit, I sniffed, hardly the amount that Will deserved for not divulging Mr. Brown's secret but thoughtful all the same.

Will had bought us a cottage on the outskirts of Port Royal, to keep me away from the hustle and bustle of the townspeople. There were a few other houses neighboring ours, but Will assured me that our new neighbors were kind people. Most of them were young couples with small children, so I should feel right at home and make many friends there. I doubted I would get on very well with any soft-skinned housewife, but I smiled all the same to make Will happy. He really was very proud of the cottage he had bought. As was custom, I had only see the outside. I wouldn't see the inside of my new home until Will carried me over the threshold later this night.

My father would not be put off in his efforts to present a dowry, however. Among the poorer people a dowry, if it was had, was merely a family heirloom if it existed at all. My father, denied the opportunity to build me a mansion right next to his, with a stable and a legion of servants and cooks, furnished my home instead. The cottage, which Will had intended to be small, turned out to be the largest of the area. In fact, it came with two floors. Will, while exasperated, had allowed my father's need to pry. What it all came down too, I would find out later, was a cottage with a fine mahogany staircase made of an expert blend of dark and lightwoods and expensive tapestries. The first floor had a warm den with a fireplace, a sitting room to entertain guests in complete with its own miniature library, a dining room with large windows overlooking a garden that I would craft to have as many wildflowers as possibly without converting the space into a forest, a kitchen that by my father's standards was small and a small bedroom for servants. My father couldn't imagine his daughter not having servants.

The second floor had a large master bedroom for Will and I, with the largest four poster bed O I would ever see in my life. Furnished in dark reds and rich gold, it too had a fireplace. It was evident that my father perhaps wanted to increased the likelihood of his having grandchildren, given the finery of the bed and linens. There was a screen separating the bedroom from a washing place, complete with a bathtub that would easily old two or three and made of ivory. Outside the house there was a ladder leading up to the balcony that overlooked the road and a well was located conveniently close to the site of my new home. On the other side of the room was an oriental style screen that I suppose would be for me to dress behind, should I keep any modesty at all. Not likely, but there you have it.

There were also three other bedrooms; a small one that would serve as a nursery and two larger ones for when my theoretical children were grown enough to have their own rooms. Each came with a large closet for trunks full of dresses, as did my own bedroom. The small nursery was already filled with two cradles made of painted white wood and the walls were painted yellow. A rocking horse stood grandly in the corner. Evidently my father wanted me to get on with the childbearing.

There was also a larger library and tearoom, the last room to make up the second floor. I could tell it would be my favorite room in the house, furnished in a way similar to the library of my father's mansion, where I had spent the majority of my time that wasn't spent sneaking out of the house to see Will. Now that I was to be married, I doubted I would have much time to spend in this new library, but the sentiment was endearing just the same. I truly felt the warmth towards my father that Elizabeth had always felt, and wondered if I could love the old fool as dearly as she always would.

My father had also presented us with four servants. Mary would be staying with me in one of the extra bedrooms, but I assured her that I wouldn't allow her to lift a finger unless it was to teach me to do some of my own housekeeping. The old cook and Anita also came with me, and I told the both of them that I would be spending as much time as possible learning from them - surely Will wouldn't let them stay for long; the prospect of having people wait on him quite foreign to him and I knew he didn't like it in the slightest. The fact that I knew very litter about cooking, if anything at all, was all the kept him placated.

The last servant was presumably to be our butler, but where my father found the man I didn't know. He was short and stocky and looked as though he would be better suited to be a butcher than a butler. Will dismissed him quickly, but I thought it was rather a shame. I wanted to have plenty of baths, and it looked as though that man could do very will with some heavy lifting of water.

Before I knew it, Mary was helping me get into my wedding gown. Mrs. Dawson had done a lovely job. It was the creamy satin that I'd wanted, with full skirts and embroidered with the tiniest pearls I'd ever seen. It had a square cut neckline that had a satin ruffle trim and sleeves that went just past my elbows, also with a smooth satin ruffle. The full skirt was pulled back to reveal bright white petticoats and moved like a bell every time I walked. The dress was heavier than most when I attached the tail to it, a dreadfully large and dragging piece of fabric edged with heron feathers. Elizabeth had gotten her wish and I was given a pearl coronet and finely woven veil that would cascade down my exposed back, and glittering little diamonds were sewn into to the veil. Finally, I was presented with gold earrings, bracelets, and a necklace from my father that was engraved, "All my love to my little raven on her wedding day."

All that remained now was to head to the church in the center of town and become Mrs. Will Turner officially at last.

Will stood in front of the alter nervously, wishing that Jack could be here to be his best man. Jack would scoff at the thought, for Jack was hardly a man to be seen at a wedding. And Will laughed when he tried to imagine Jack dressed up in finery, anyway. Still, it would do a lot better than having Jerome Dawson as his best man. After all, Jerome and Will were worlds apart. The sandy-haired young man was laughing heartily and shooting smiles at Elizabeth, which at one point would have annoyed Will, but now he hardly noticed. He kept his hands clenched tightly in front of him, shocked at how much they seemed to be sweating and yet ice cold at the same time, and hoped that Christina wasn't nearly as nervous as he was.

Jerome Dawson seemed to find it all one grand joke, and Will thought it would have been wise to accept Gillette or even Commodore Norrington as his best man. Anyone but that cheeky idiot who insisted on flirting with Will's soon-to-be sister-in-law, who seemed to be trying to murder him with her eyes.

Will laughed quietly, thinking about how far he had come from what he planned years ago. He had planned to win Elizabeth Swann over, four years ago and although he had largely given up on that by the time he reached 18, it was still a hope of his. Now, however, he could hardly fathom marrying the tall, thin blond woman in front of him, and from the grin on her lips that flashed even though Jerome was in her presence, she could hardly imagine marrying him, Will, either.

Elizabeth of course looked lovely, she always did. But Will noticed it this time with only friendly affection, his eyes turning once again to the back of the church where the doors were still damnably closed. Elizabeth was dressed in a dress of deep green, the front of her skirts sewn up all around to show voluminous petticoats embroidered with red and gold leaves. The sleeves of the dress were full to just about her elbow, where they were met with creamy gloves. Her hair was pulled back and piled high on her head and her face and shoulders were immaculately powdered as always. She looked radiant, of course, but also happier than he had ever seen her. It might have been why Jerome was staring at her so intently.

Will wondered why he had accepted the fool man's offer to be his best man. But, he noted, he wasn't very versed when it came to the etiquette of marriage, and Christina had suggested it after all. He vaguely wondered why but decided he didn't very much care, so long as this bloody wedding would begin soon.

The church was decorated with island flowers, birds of paradise and plumeria hanged from the rafters of the small but elegant church. A white aisle was laid out and at the end of each pew, there was a small bouquet of flowers. It smelled pretty, although stuffy, and Will was anxious for the wedding to commence not only because he was sure seeing Christina would calm him, but because he felt he would suffocate in the sweet scented air. Weddings were a tiresome business, entirely too many flowers even in their island wedding, Will thought, although the dais had been nice.

That was another reason Will was eager for the wedding and reception to be over and done with. He hadn't fulfilled the most enjoyable of his responsibilities as a husband since they'd left the island, and luckily he'd been too busy to dwell on it.

Well, almost.

Before he could go off and think of Christina as she had been on the island, the music started to play. The organ, an instrument which Will had always found abrasive given his scant knowledge of music, actually sounded pleasant to his ears for once. The doors opened and Will's heart leapt to finally see Christina, but it wasn't her. He swore under his breath when the first of the wedding party, a little girl with brown skin and tightly curled hair, the daughter of one of the cooks in the Governor's mansion, made her way down the aisle scattering flowers before her and walking dreadfully slowly.

"Don't worry, son, this'll be over before you know it," the priest, a Father Mallory whom Will had never met said. Will's best man had left to walk in with the wedding party, and Will was standing very much alone except for the priest.

"Yes, Father," Will said obligingly, vowing to keep his mouth more firmly under his control for the rest of the ceremony.

Much to Elizabeth's happiness, she was not to walk in with Jerome Dawson. It had stung not to be named Maid of Honor, but she hadn't really expected it anyway. No, on the arm of that infernal young man was Mary Porter, who looked radiant in a dress of deep green embroidered very much like Elizabeth's own dress. Elizabeth herself was walking down the aisle leisurely, congratulating herself on how find the small church looked, on the arm of Commodore Norrington. She could vaguely see the shape of Yani, Anita's little daughter Christina chose to be flower girl, ahead. They were almost at the alter, then.

Father hadn't approved of Christina allowing their servants into her wedding party, but she was quite set in her choices and he had yielded once again. She had flippantly denied wanting anything to do with having the more respectable members of society as her ladies-in-waiting for her wedding, saying that nothing would thrill her more than to deny them the chance and, she snorted, honor, of being involved in the Governor's daughter's wedding. Elizabeth smiled thinly, thinking of Christina's coarse way with words.

So Anita was looking quite beside herself on the arm of one of First Mate Gillette, who was looking at her pretty dark face with amusement. The final component of the wedding party was the young maid, Linda, who looked shocked at her good fortune of being asked to be in the party at all. Her escort was a tall young man with light brown hair, one of the older stable boys if Elizabeth wasn't much mistaken. It certainly would be a wedding to remember, that was certain.

Finally they had all reached the front of the church and looked towards the doors expectantly as the music started over again. Elizabeth glanced at Will, whose jaw was working furiously as he tried to contain his nerves. Next to him stood Jerome Dawson and Commodore Norrington, who both looked very amused at Will's nervousness, and Gillette who was in a similar state. The stable boy appeared even more nervous than Will himself, although why Elizabeth couldn't fathom.

Mary, Anita, and Linda all looked joyful and expectant as the silhouette of Christina emerged in the bright door way. Why, she looks lovely. And Father, how proud he seems! Elizabeth thought as they walked down the aisle. Christina had an abnormally tight grip on their father's arm, Elizabeth noticed with a smile. Although her sister's face was obscured by the veil, she was beaming. No one could possibly have guessed that merely an hour before she was sitting on the shore shaking with nerves and refusing to go to the church under any circumstances.

I was sitting a few paces off from the docks, holding the ends of my skirt down lest they go billowing off in the wind. I knew I was risking ruin of my dress and my hair, which I felt whipping around all about me, but I didn't particularly care. I knew I was risking being late to my own wedding, and knew that Will was probably beside himself with worry, and while I did feel a bit guilty about that, I didn't move from my spot.

"Oh, God, what was I thinking! Marriage! In a church and everything!" I moaned, scanning the horizon for any sign of Jack and finding none. Why was that pirate never around when you needed him? I wanted to run away again, but this time it was not for being hurt. I was terribly frightened to walk down an aisle under the scrutiny of everyone in Port Royal. Why did weddings have to be such public affairs, anyway?

"Yes, in a church and everything. I'm shocked at you, Christina, hiding away like this! Get up!"

Elizabeth stood behind me with her hands on her lips, a smile on her face despite her words. She grinned wider.

"My brave sister, the one who runs off with pirates to save a poor damsel and duels with the Commodore just to wipe the smirk off his face - hiding on the shore and waiting, no doubt, for a dashing rogue to take her away? On your wedding day, too! Poor Will's in the church, shaking in his boots, and here you are meditating it all away!" she said, walking over and sitting next to me without any concern for her dress.

"I'd like to see you go off and get married!" I grumbled. She laughed.

"Yes well, that's hardly likely to happen, is it?"

"Oh, it will," I said under my breath. "If I have anything to do with it, you certainly will be in this position, and soon!"

"Yes well, until then up you get." She grabbed my arm and, careful not to wrinkle my dress anymore than it already was, pulled me to my feet. I stood and looked out at the ocean as it crashed in, wanting to run among the waves like Will and I had done when we were married on the island. Elizabeth seemed to read my thoughts.

"You've been married before, this is all just a silly formality. I suppose you should think of it as you would a duel - just another thing to conquer, hm?" she said. I sighed and closed my eyes, smelling the ocean and wishing I could be back at the highest point on the island, with the strange women's voices raised all around me in song.

"I'm not going to ask such a silly question as to whether or not you love him," Elizabeth said impatiently, and I glared at her for ruining my reverie. "But if you do not hurry yourself over their to marry him, the poor boy will probably keel over unconscious and you would be to blame."

"Elizabeth, you bothersome girl, hush your mouth. I'm going, you see? Give a woman time to get her bearings, would you? It's not every day she's married, you know! It only happens once in her lifetime!"

"Unless that woman happens to be you."

Will had never felt more joyful than when he finally got the chance to walk out of the church, hand in hand with his wife. Of course, the moment he kissed her in front of everyone at Port Royal, he felt that elation could not possibly be much deeper. And the moment she looked at him with her tawny owl eyes shining as she said "I do," filled him with such happiness that he knew it surely must be the best moment of his life.

Things seemed intent on getting better and better, he thought. And he was quite content to keep it that way. The reception was nice, although he thought it rather a hindrance. He wanted to show Christina the home he had made for them, even though the Governor's money had gone almost entirely to furnishing it. More honestly, he wanted to carry her into that house and kick shut the door and not emerge for a week or so. A terrible test on a man's endurance, getting married was. And not once but twice! If that didn't prove his love for his lovely Mrs. Turner, he didn't know what would.

Christina was alight with joy, and everybody could see it. For once what people were saying what not about what a ruffian she had turned out to be, or what major drama was being played out in the Swann household now, but rather about how lovely she looked. Her dark hair was decidedly lopsided and oddly windblown, and her cheeks looked rosy from the sun. Her powder had all but been wiped away and she was as dark as she had ever been, but her eyes glowed and she danced with a grace that had been denied her all her life. And her eyes were only for the young stag that danced with her. Christina and Will were a lovely married couple and everyone basked in the delight that radiated off them. Even, they noticed, Elizabeth.

Jerome Dawson was quite interested in the younger Swann daughter - the only Swann daughter, now that Christina had become Mrs. Turner - and the good mood of everyone at the reception was doing wonders for him. Elizabeth had even accepted a dance, although she'd been swept away by the fool stable boy in an instant. Jerome cared very little for that, because Elizabeth was staring at the boy with the same patient expression and vague smile that she stared at every other man who cut in to dance with her. At least with him, her eyes narrowed and flashed with annoyance. It might not seem like a good thing, but it was better than vague politeness and a promise to forget him as soon as the next man came to call. Jerome smiled, glad for the rest of the evening, and asked Miss Elizabeth to dance again.

I waved goodbye as Will lifted me eagerly into his arms; the whole of Port Royal was gathered to see that I was carried across the threshold into my new home. My father was smiling broadly at my happiness, and I blew him a kiss. Elizabeth was grinning as well, along with the Commodore and Gillette. She wasn't crying like a little fool, I thought fondly, regarding how Mary, Linda, and Anita were all sobbing. Little Yani looked bored, but amused herself by clapping along with the rest. I watched them until Will kicked the door closed behind me.

"Shall I carry you to our room, Mrs. Turner?" he said, and I laughed with happiness. "No, my dear husband, I think I can walk," I said.

"Good, because between you and this infernal dress you're wearing, I feel as though my arms will break."

"You loathsome little boy!" I admonished, kissing him on the lips and for the moments surrounding us, failing to take in the sight of my new home. I broke away and he looked at me quite stormily. "You are trying my patience again, Christina. I think it would be fitting if I showed you your new bedroom, first, before the tour begins."

"Oh, but Will! Then I wont see our house for days!" I objected, laughing at the oath he swore under his breath. "I'll just be a minute, Turner, practice some patience wont you?"

I made my way about the house, poking into each room and squealing with delight when I saw it. It was far more than just an ordinary cottage, but Will had at least stemmed my father's enthusiasm a bit more than I thought he could. There rooms were lovely, but they also held a quaint, traditional charm that allowed them to be what they were without seeming ostentatious. It was probably done in the style Will's mother had had her house in, and by knowing that I felt closer to Will although I would never meet my in-laws.

"Are you quite done?" he asked me, as I finished studying the den. "Oh, yes, Mr. Turner. I'd love for you to show me the upstairs, now."

"Only if you insist, Mrs. Turner," he answered stoically. Oh, that wouldn't do. I walked closer to him, tilting my head up and smiling, tugging the lapels of his fancy coat teasingly.

"You don't sound too enthused, Will. I'm hurt," I said, sticking out my lower lip. He growled and grabbed me around the waist, hoisting me over his shoulder and charging up the stairs.

"Oh, you scoundrel! Is this how you treat your lady wife?" I demanded joyfully as the door to our bedroom slammed closed and he deposited me on the large marriagebed.

"Only out of the deepest love for you," he answered, and our lips met again as they had done hours in the church before when we became for the second time, man and wife.

The End.