Three: Kidnapped

Elizabeth had just left his shop to go help the servants prepare dinner for the banquet they were holding tonight. His lips were still moist and warm from her kisses and he had that wonderful feeling inside that he got whenever she was near. He sat on a bench near the fire he used for making swords and ate the sandwich she'd brought him for lunch.

Liz was not a very good cook, but she was learning, and Will would eat anything she made for him because he loved her so much. He sighed happily and smiled into the sandwich, hardly even tasting it.

His mates, the few that he had in Port Royal, made fun of him for being so head over heels in love. But Will didn't care. He'd waited so long to finally win his love. Ever since that day she'd rescued him, he'd loved her. He'd kept that love a secret until Jack Sparrow happened upon them all and sparked that great adventure. He was so happy to finally find that Liz loved him that nothing else mattered.

"Let them tease me," He said to the donkey who was resting, glad not to have any work at the moment. "I'm married to the woman of my dreams and nothing can take that away. I've finally got what I've always wanted."

The donkey did not reply.

For a moment Will thought of Norrington, but he did not really feel bad. Will couldn't help that Liz loved him and not that stuffed shirt. Norrington was too straight laced, too dull for his Lizzy. Will doubted anyone would ever love Norrington, and he did feel bad that Norrington wouldn't experience the wonderful feelings he felt. But he did not feel bad that James had lost Liz.

If it weren't for Jack and I, Liz would have been killed by Barbossa. Norrington was no help at all, and he didn't even kill Barbossa. Jack and I did. We saved Liz. We're the heroes. He's just a washed up Naval commander.

Will did not feel bad for having these thoughts. What did he have to feel bad about when Liz had chosen him over Norrington?

Evelyn wandered the streets of Port Royal, impressed by how bland the town was. She was used to Tortuga, or other bustling ports, filled with people trying to sell, people trying to steal, rich people prancing about. Port Royal had none of that. It was quiet, the shop signs stating what they sold, the owners waiting for you to walk in, instead of hounding you in the streets.

There were no mansions immediately visible. After rounding a corner Eve found that they were all up on a hill, set back from the town. But there were only a few houses of impressive size, and they were too far from the dock to bother stealing from.

The shops were all modest, probably passed down from generations, and Eve decided this town was not good for a raid. She would stop for a drink at the tavern, see if she could catch any word of Sparrow, and then be off again.

In searching for a tavern she passed the blacksmith's shop. A wooden sign hung above that simply read Blacksmith Turner. The clinking of metal on metal could be heard from inside, and Eve decided to take a look in. She was always in the market for more swords; she had quite a collection going.

The shop was dim and smoky when she entered, and she noticed there was only one young man working. He looked up from his work when she entered.

His features were fine enough, young but rugged, he was probably somewhere in his twenties, about her age. His hair was long and some of the brown curls were escaping the ribbon he'd tied them back with. His clothes were modest, nothing special, and covered with soot and dirt.

He wiped his hands on his apron and gave her a smile. "May I help you miss?"

Eve merely smiled. She was pleased she'd pulled off the innocent look, having changed her clothes before leaving the ship so as not to look too conspicuous. She wore a modest blouse under a fine red corset, something she'd picked up from a governess she robbed. She'd chosen a black skirt, long enough to hide her well worn boots and the dagger she kept strapped to her thigh. There was also a short sword at her side, but it was hidden beneath the black cloak she wore.

She'd taken down her hair and brushed out the curls so as to look more feminine and even adorned a pearl necklace. Upon closer inspection, one would find her arms and legs covered in scars. There was one that went from her neck to below her collar bone, but the necklace distracted the eye from that. There was a small one below her left eye, but it was faint. And her grammar was excellent since her mother had insisted she be educated at one of the finest schools in London. The way she spoke was important because even if she dressed the part of a lady, she needed to be able to act the part as well. It was getting harder and harder to be a pirate as the days went on.

"Looking for a sword for your husband perhaps?" Will offered, always kind to a pretty face.

Evelyn wore many rings, but none stood for a husband. She couldn't help but scowl at the mention of marriage. "Oh no, no husband for me. I'm…just browsing. My father…he had a love of swords that's passed to me as well."

Will nodded. Swords were his best product. "I'm always glad to see a woman interested in swords."

Evelyn followed the man to a rack displaying some of the models he made, the ones he still practiced with daily in case he should have another run in with pirates. Always good to be prepared.

"Oh these are lovely!" Eve inspected one with a rather lavish handle, noting the fine way the blade was constructed. It had been a while since she'd purchased a new sword. Maybe Port Royal wasn't completely useless.

"Mine name is Will Turner, by the way."

Evelyn froze. Turner. Will Turner. Of course! That's why that named looked familiar. He was the little brat who helped Sparrow! Evelyn turned, not letting the shock or rage show on her face.

She took Will's extended hand in her own, and reached behind her, removing a sword from the rack while Will was distracted. "Evelyn…Smith."

Will opened his mouth to speak, but didn't get the chance to. Evelyn brought the jeweled hilt of the sword down hard on Will's skull and he dropped instantly to the ground. Eve shook her head, deciding she would keep the sword. She stuck it through her belt, hoping it wouldn't snag on her clothes, and hoisted Will up.

She was simply going to take him to her ship. She could drag him, she was strong enough, and with his head down, he would look drunk. That's what she would say if anyone asked. And if that wasn't a good enough answer, her sword in their gut would be.

She retraced her steps, no longer interested in stopping at the tavern for word of Sparrow. No doubt Will would have some idea of where that git was off to. A few people gave her odd glances as she passed, half dragging Will, but she smiled and mumbled the word "drunk", trying to look a little shamed and no one stopped her.

She practically dropped him on the deck once she reached her ship. Rat was there waiting, as usual.

"Another prisoner?" He asked, grinning.

"Yes. Have someone lock him up too. And get us out of here."

"Aye, cap'n." Rat piloted the ship out of the docks and back out into the ocean. He ordered a few others to drag Will down to the brig to keep Norrington company.

Evelyn headed for her quarters. She needed a moment to rest and think things over. She had not thought that her revenge could take place so suddenly and it was almost overwhelming to have both Norrington and Turner as prisoners. She needed to clear her thoughts and get away from Port Royal before they were discovered.