A/n: Another sizable chapter! Sorry for the long time in updating. Now you'll get to see what happens to Will... and where is Elizabeth!? Enjoy. :D

All Tied Up

Will was suddenly and painfully aware that he was awake. He slowly opened his eyes, which were met with odd blurred images swimming unpleasantly with light. His throbbing head was a mess of muddled thoughts. Something smelled strongly of mud and leaves. He tried to move, but couldn't. His eyes were slowly coming into focus and all he could see was greenery. That's when he realized his face was in the dirt. That would explain the earthy smell.

There was a gag in his mouth and for a instant he was quite unsure as to why he could not bring his wrist up to remove it, until his brain was awake enough to remind him what had happened before he went unconscious. His wrists were tightly tied together behind his back and his ankles were inconveniently tied together as well. There was a sharp pain in his shoulder and his face felt like it was crawling. He rocked back and forth until he was able to roll over more on less onto his back.

What a situation. he thought grimly.

He attempted to crane his neck around so that he could see where exactly he was. The best that he could make out was that he was on the ground, behind a thick line of hedges, next to several large trees. He heard no noise except the swish of the trees, the waves of the nearby ocean, and the occasional bird's song. He wondered where he was, how long he'd been there and of course how exactly he was going to get out of his predicament.

He lay there for quite some time, several times attempting to roll himself over or get through he hedges, or just get away from his current position. He tried to get the gag out of his mouth, as it tasted disgusting and was very wet from absorbing all his saliva. His throat was wretchedly dry, and he had no more spit to swallow. He ran through all kinds of plans in his head to free himself, he attempted most of them, but none worked.

He didn't know how long he'd been there and didn't have any concept of how much longer he lay there until finally, what must have been hours later, he heard some far-off voices. He couldn't hear what they were saying or even how close they were, but he started to make noise. He only hoped that they found him and that they were not someone looking to finish him off.

"Hemf!" Will desperately called through his gag. His voice was quiet and raspy and the gag muffled his voice further. He tried to swallow a few times and managed to call a little louder. "Heh! Hemf! Hum-muddy! Heeeh!"

The voices were much closer now and Will tried to call as loud as he could through his gag. The voices stopped.

"Did you 'ear that, sir?" a young voice asked.

"What, son?"

Will flailed and hollered to make sure he was heard. Over here, please come! he shouted in his mind.

"There! In the hedges!" the older voice said and there was a scuffling of branches.

A young boy, no older than twelve, poked his head over top the hedges. "Sir! It's a man! An' 'e's bound!"

"Oh, gracious!"

More scuffling, and then an old man and the young boy appeared at Will's side.

"Undo him then! Quickly!" the old man barked. Immediately the boy set to work on undoing Will's bound ankles. The old man pulled off Will's gag and pulled a small brown canteen from his belt. "Drink up, son." he said and helped Will get a drink.

The cool water slid down his ravaged throat easily, instantly soothing it. He drank as much as he could before the old man gently pulled it away.

The boy undid Will's wrist ties and then sat down wide-eyed and eager to hear what happened.

"What's your name, son?" The old man asked.

"Will Turner." Will answered readily.

The old man raised a bushy white eyebrow. "Really? That's very interesting..." he glanced at the boy, then turned his eyes back to Will. "I'm Sir Thomas Fullerbutton."

Will's eyes widened slightly. This was the man he was making the magnificent sword for!

"And you, are my blacksmith, are you not?" Mr. Fullerbutton's smile twinkled in his deep blue eyes.

Will nodded, amazed at how their meeting was coming about.

"This is my apprentice, Harry." Mr. Fullerbutton said, gesturing to the boy.

"Pleased to meetcha, Mr. Turner, sir!" Harry shook hands with Will excitedly. He had short chestnut hair and sparkling green-blue eyes. "Pardon for askin', Mr. Turner, sir, but wha' 'appened to you?"

"Hush, Harry! He shall tell when he feels he should." The old man said sharply, not wanting Will to be offended.

"Not at all." Will smiled reassuringly. "He's free to ask all he wants." He took a deep breath and quelled the further protests from Mr. Fullerbutton before he began.

He gave them the story, but only briefly. He summarized how the King Saradon had come to make Elizabeth his bride, but that she was already in love with Will, and that they were planning to get married. The King was relentless and had kidnapped her. Saradon's men had tied him up like this, and Will ended with,

"I was quite sure he or his men were going to kill me, so I am actually quite lucky and pleasantly surprised to be looking into your faces, in more ways than one."

Mr. Fullerbutton cracked another kindly old man smile, this one more full of sympathy and sadness. "My young sir, I wish we could help you rectify this sorry situation." He sighed and stood.

Harry stood also, but with a rather thoughtful and slightly confused look on his face. They helped Will up, whose legs felt slightly wobbly. They began to walk back towards the road, around the hedge, when the boy piped up.

"But, we can 'elp Mr. Turner!" he said, excitement bubbling through him.

"How's that, Harry?" Mr. Fullerbutton stopped walking, as did Will.

Harry turned to face Will. "Sir, the King. Did 'e say where 'e was from?"

The blacksmith shook his head. "Not that I recall."

The boy brightened. "I know where 'e's from!"

"How now, Harry?" Mr. Fullerbutton prodded, trying to get his apprentice to explain his thoughts a little faster.

Harry got the hint. "Well, sir, I was walkin' 'mong the docks an' met up with one of them soldiers. I was admirin' the way 'e was dressed and 'e asked me wha' I was starin' at. I tolds 'im, I says, 'I ne'er seen such finely dressed men come to Port Royal', an' 'e tells me its 'cause 'e's accompanyin' a King. I says, 'A King!?' An' 'e tells me tha' the King's name's Saradon an' he came all the way from the country of Florin to get 'imself a girl, see. So I says, I ask 'im who 'e's lookin' for, an' the soldier said he didn' know the lady's name tha' the King was seekin', but she was the second mo' lovely lady in the 'ole world, after a lady by the name 'o Buttercup. Then 'e shuts up, seems to think he said enough, shooes me off, see, so I goes happily off my way."

The old man's face was a mixture of emotions. "Florin?" he said quietly.

"You've heard of it?" Will asked.

"I have indeed. My niece lives there. My niece, in fact, is the very Buttercup the soldier mentioned."

Harry's eyes instantly widened. "The mo' lovely lady in all the world - she's your niece?!"

Mr. Fullerbutton smiled slightly. "Yes, no time to tell more. Run to the house and set up my desk. I'll need you to help me write a letter to Buttercup." he gestured for Harry to go, and the boy took off at a run. To Will, he asked, "I have no map, nor a ship to give you, Mr. Turner, but do you know where you could get such things?"

Will thought for a moment. "A map, surely. A ship may present more of a problem."

"It's a start. I can give you directions and I shall write to my niece. She will be expecting your arrival and may be able to help you navigate."

"Thank you sir."

The old man nodded. He regarded Will for a moment and smiled. "How's my sword coming, lad?"

"Well, sir." The blacksmith answered. "It's nearly complete."

"And is it lovely?"

Will chuckled. "Yes sir. It is one of the most impressive swords I've made to date."

Mr. Fullerbutton patted Will's back. "Good, good. Now my boy, go fetch that map you spoke of.

Elizabeth paced as best as she could in the small room. She had tried to keep track of the time she was spending deep in Saradon's ship, but with no windows or portholes whatsoever she couldn't. Was it day? Night? Morning? Afternoon? Night again? She had no clue.

She wasn't in a prison cell, exactly, but it might as well have been for all she cared. It was basically the same thing: a small, cold, nearly empty room that she was locked into. There was a small cot for sleeping, a cold raggedy-looking chair, a tiny table with a few lit candles on it and a worn-out rug in the center of the room. There were no decorations on the walls, and there was a shimmery blue dress laid out for her on the chair.

Elizabeth was still in her nightgown and robe and refused to change. She had refused to eat, and would have refused to sleep had it not been for the fact that no matter how hard she tried she truly couldn't. She was not going to be the least bit pleasant for Saradon to deal with. If the King was to make her his bride, she'd run away at any chance, or even - if it came to it - take her own life. She shuddered at the option, but if Will really was dead as Saradon had bragged to her, and the King really was going to force her to marry him - well, it was an option.

She sighed and rolled over on the uncomfortable cot. Nice way to treat your future wife, you evil pig. she thought angrily, and winced as her ankle throbbed painfully. The least he could have done was let someone look at her ankle. But that would've meant he had some sort of compassion in his body and she was pretty sure there none.

She just hoped and prayed that Will wasn't dead as Saradon claimed, and that he was on his way to rescue her.

A/n: Thanks for taking the time to read this story and to review it (hint, hint, wink, wink). ;)