Disclaimer: The characters and concepts in this story are the property of Disney. This is an amateur writing effort meant for entertainment purposes only.
Chapter Four: Forgotten Vows
Will Turner had always been an excessively jittery person in the face of situations above his social class. Even going to the Governor's house for five second deliveries was enough to leave the poor boy in convulsions. So it was no surprise to find him pacing nervously in the upstairs hall, mumbling obscenities to himself, and all because he couldn't remember his wedding vows.
He had never begrudged his bride-to-be anything before, and when she had suggested that they compose their own vows for the ceremony he leapt at the chance to document exactly how he felt about Miss. Elizabeth Swann. Of course, he had to make a few alterations here and there to appease her father, Governor Swann, who had never approved of their union, as well as the other bureaucrats in Elizabeth's family who were attending; not to mention the numerous amount of socialites and members of the aristocracy who were traveling many leagues – in some cases, all the way from Britain – to witness such an occasion as this. Elizabeth was the family's greatest asset, being that she was the last unmarried Swann of appropriate age. This wedding was to be the largest in recorded history of the Caribbean, putting a great dent into the family fortune he was soon to inherit.
The thought brought yet another lump to his throat, and he was forced to fight off the urge to vomit from the thought of embarrassing himself. Not that he could do any worse for wear anyways. The family was already aware of his more than humble origins, and the Governor's dislike for him did nothing to quell his fears about marrying Elizabeth. Weatherby Swann's pride had taken a hit when his daughter had chosen the proposal of a blacksmith over the intentions of one of the finest naval officers in his fleet. Since the announcement of their engagement, he had done everything in his power to convince Elizabeth that her decision was just as second-rate as Will himself was by providing her with a great many comparisons. The Swann household played host to a variety of gentlemen, all of which were devastatingly handsome, exceptionally schooled, and disgustingly rich.
And while Will's dignity suffered, Elizabeth was always supportive. "You know that you're the only one for me, Will," she'd say with a smile. And he believed it because he knew in his heart that she really truly did love him.
But his memory lapse that day had nothing to do with his fiancée, who was more than supportive and generous with her share of affection. It all related back to the atrocious family she came from, many of whom made the Governor look tame by comparison. Their own attempts to woo the young Elizabeth from her chosen spouse were slow moving and far more discrete than Weatherby's. William had arrived home one night to find his apartment crawling with as many whores as Port Royal could offer, each one bought and paid for by another family member. Suspiciously enough, Elizabeth's cousin had convinced her into taking a stroll that night on a meticulously plotted path directly beside his home.
He hung his head and took another deep breath in an effort to calm himself, but his heart still pounded in his chest. In not five minutes he would be forced in front of an entire room of Swann's to recite a profession of undying love, faithfulness, and infidelity, something that had taken him half the night to write mind you, but one that had swiftly left his brain the moment he had entered the house.
"Ahem…" he turned quickly to find one of the Swann servants at the top of the stairs. The servant neither bowed, nor spoke calmly as he would have any other of the Swann guests, but kept his chin high and voice haughty to drive home the statement he knew his master wished to make: that Elizabeth's affections aside, Will Turner – orphan, blacksmith, pirate – was not welcome here. However, he was forced to utter, "They are ready for you, sir…"
The final word was spat out with so much contempt it hit Will like a slap across the cheek. He nodded to the servant, who had already stalked off with the air of a man who'd had a cucumber shoved up his bottom, and promptly followed, albeit shakily.
Ceremonies were being held in the courtyard of Swann Manor, but the house had been kept decorated all month from the amount of family members visiting. Fresh garland draped the stair rail and live swans had been bought to parade around the gardens, though they most often found their way into the house from the absent-minded relatives leaving the doors wide open. Such a bird was waddling through the foyer William entered, squawking incessantly at the maids and butlers moving from one room to the next.
Think of it this way, Will: you're one step closer to being over and done with this, he thought.
His stomach tossed about inside his abdomen again, painfully this time. It wasn't the amount of steps that mattered anymore. It was the size and magnitude of each that left him more and more anxious as he drew nearer the courtyard.
No one stood up as he entered. In fact, no one even seemed to notice his presence. Such a lowly member of society was beyond the sights of such people. Seated in a gloriously decorated garden, wallowing in their splendor and self-pity, the Swann family was a sight to be seen that day. Each woman was straight laced, smug as peacocks the lot of them, with heaps of jewelry and expensive fabrics as their tail feathers. The men next to them looked about as good-humoured as a sea urchin, probably from the dark suits they had chosen to wear. Mixed with the Caribbean sun, it was a cocktail for additional impatience soon to be channeled at their inferior son-in-law.
"While we're young, boy," the minister snapped from the alter before him. William snapped out of his reverie and nodded, marching forward as stoically as he could manage. The task was not easily carried out as the beady eyes of the Swanns slowly found their way to him and drove themselves into his soul. He could practically hear their thoughts within their stares as they attempted to intimidate him further. Pursing his lips, palms sweaty from being clenched into fists, Will came to a halt at the alter on the right hand side of the pastor.
"Well, is there no one else to join your wedding party?" the minister asked incredulously.
Will shook his head. "No sir."
"And no family either," the minister rolled his eyes and shot a malicious expression in his direction as if to add in, "No surprise."
He looked away and took another breath. Just relax, Will.
The wedding party came next, but Will couldn't stand to watch them. It seemed that the Governor had done everything in his power to outdo the humble blacksmith now courting his daughter. The rehearsal was no more a rehearsal than it was the actual ceremony. Weatherby had outdone himself with a brand new wig and coat for himself, the buckles of which were solid gold in Will's expert opinion. And while Elizabeth herself was modestly clothed, she always appeared beautiful in his opinion, sometimes without even trying.
She smiled at him supportively, and mouthed the words, "Don't be worried."
"A little late for that," he whispered back to her. However, she just bore that look of charmed grace and his insides churned, more from her beauty now than the wretchedly unfair family.
The Governor and his daughter came to a halt at the Alter beneath the minister, who coughed lowly and began the sermon.
"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the rehearsal ceremony of the daughter of Governor Weatherby Swann, son of the Duke of Sampson, grandson of Lord Matthew the third, advisor to King James himself; to the son of a…what did you say your father was boy?"
Will's mouth went dry and spoke quietly, "A blacksmith."
"Your real father, boy," the minister said through clenched teeth.
"A merchant marine," he confessed.
"A MERCHANT MARINE," the minister's voice amplified on the word, and Will was certain he saw shivers pass down the spines of Elizabeth's family. He could no longer bear to meet even her stare any longer.
"Normally, these things take at least three to four hours, but seeing as how it is so hot out today, I decided that we would skip straight to the wedding vows and dismiss from there. With your permission, Governor, of course."
"Minister Bailey, your suggestion is well based. I fear that the heat will soon get the better of us, so please, if you would continue."
"Then it is according to tradition, that I initiate the reading of the groom's vow first."
No amount of humiliation seemed good enough any longer. Weatherby had no doubt paid a handsome sum for the minister's stunt, and if not, was going to after the ceremony. Body trembling at the thought of reading aloud something that was an unprepared as he was, Will stepped forward and cleared his throat.
The silence that surrounded him was deafening, distinguished by the occasional swish of fans or exaggerated yawns. Throat dry, he took a deep breath. "Elizabeth…" he stammered. "Miss. Swann…"
"There's not a single person who doesn't know her name," the minister said loudly behind him.
"Yes, thank you," Will remarked sheepishly. God, why had it gotten so hot all of a sudden? He swallowed the lump in his throat. "Elizabeth from the first moment I uh, I met you twelve years ago I…I knew that we…that we…"
She was staring at him now, her beautiful brown eyes hanging off every single word. His own circled the courtyard and found the family was as well, but unlike Elizabeth who was savouring the emotion behind them, they were just waiting for him to fall flat on his face…again.
"That we were destined to be together," he managed to finish. "And that no matter what our paths would cross again."
"Does this story have a point, boy?"
"Yes, yes sir," he said, but the rest of the speech was lost again. Already, he had been improvising, but the words no longer seemed good enough. They rotted the second they reached the ears of Elizabeth's less-than-impressed family members.
Come on, come on, Will urged his mind to speed up, but nothing came into his head. He was left alone and useless by an unschooled vocabulary, a substandard mind, an unforgivable rank in the social hierarchy…
And it only seemed to be getting hotter.
"What seems to be the matter boy? Cat got your tongue?"
Will gave up. "I'm sorry," he said to Elizabeth, and marched back into the house.
Author's Notes: I feel like I should address this fairly early on. Once the initial treasure hunt begins, Elizabeth's character will move into the background and probably go unseen until the conclusion. But before I receive a barrage of negative reviews regarding this, I will explain the decision. There is an old theatre saying that states (and I'm paraphrasing) that if you bring a gun on stage, you have to shoot it. Basically, if you bring a plot point of a character into the foreground, you have to have a use for them. Most of the development in this story is left to Will and Jack, and while Elizabeth acts as a catalyst, she's not a direct source of change for either character. This should not suggest that I wish to pair Will up with another female character of my own design, or that I have any intentions of making this a slash fic. It just means that if you are here to read a 'WE', I have little to offer except by means of flashbacks.
Thank you, and terribly sorry if this has inconvenienced you in any way!
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Will O' the Wisp: Thank you very much! I really appreciate comments like that, since I try to write things that haven't been done before. I have a lot of spare time right now, so it looks like updates are happening every 2 days, but they do promise to slow down in January when school starts again. Hopefully you'll be back. Thanks again!
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