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Beyond World's End

By Ecri

Chapter 10

Aboard the Pearl, Jack glared at Barbossa. "Trying to make way with my ship?"

"My ship!" Barbossa snarled.

"This ship is now enchanted…courtesy of Poseidon himself. It's mine down to the last splinter and bottle of rum." He turned to Gibbs. "Stay put. We've got a conference to attend."

"Aye," replied a confused Gibbs.

Jack moved toward his cabin with Bootstrap, Elizabeth, and Will trailing after him. Once inside he closed and locked the door and guided Will to a seat. Bringing out bandages and rum, he began to tend Will's wounds. Before either Will or Elizabeth could ask he did what he'd rarely done in his life. He explained himself.

"In the Locker, Poseidon came to me. I thought it was madness. I'd been talking to myself for so long I couldn't remember having someone else to talk to. Eventually he convinced me." He paused in consideration. "I think he gave me back a bit of sanity. Reminded me of a few things. Anyway, he said he would help me if I helped him. He wanted Beckett, and he wanted Tia Dalma—whatever he wanted with her—but wanted…Will Turner to do it."

"What? Me?"

"You're the man of the prophecy. There's a pirate prophecy…a man born to pirates but turning his back on piracy will one day be drawn to the sea and in his search for his heart's desire will reignite pirates and other denizens of the sea to their own true purpose."

"That's vague." Will sounded skeptical as he usually did with Jack.

"Prophecies usually are, mate."

"Wait," Elizabeth insisted. "Why Will?"

Jack shrugged. "Poseidon said it had all been set in motion ages ago, and that Will was the culmination of it all. Only a good man could find a noble reason to end Davy Jones' life. Only a good man could kill that demon and remain a good man. Only a good man could put the Flying Dutchman back to its purpose, unite the pirates, and defeat Beckett's search for omnipotence."

"But I didn't do any of that."

Jack smiled. "Yet you still fulfilled the prophecy."

"How did I do that?"

Bootstrap spoke. "I couldn't let you die for me, Will. I couldn't let you die at all. I haven't been the best father in the world, but I wasn't going to sit back and let someone else…especially Jones…deny you your life."

"To save my life." His eyes betrayed his sorrow. "You died for me."

Bootstrap nodded. "I'd do anything for you, Will."

"You were what set it all in motion. For the purity of your love for Elizabeth. She became Pirate King…because I found a reason to vote for her. Likely wouldn't have if I'd never met you. As for Beck, well, He thought if he killed the man of the prophecy in a bizarre ritual it would bring him immortality and power only a God could wield. He read the book wrong."

Jack wouldn't elaborate on what the book said. "It's the carrying and the reading of that book what damaged my sanity to begin with."

Elizabeth squeezed Will's hand, and Will looked away. She turned to Jack. "What was that business with Tia Dalma and …her hand on his chest…the pain…"

"Tia Dalma knew from the moment she met Will that he was the fulfillment of the prophecy. The pain…well, she performed some ritual or other to bind him to her. She did the same to me once. She was going to defy the prophecy at Beckett's urging." He sighed. "Beck wanted immortality. He'd tried to pay Tia Dalma off once with me as the payment in order to buy immortality from her. She told him that I was the one to fulfill the prophecy because that's the way she is. She was trying to find ways to double cross him."

"So…binding me to her…achieved what exactly?"

"Kept Beckett from killing you without her knowledge. She'd have known if he'd tried, and she was hoping to steal you from him. As he read it, if he'd killed you, with the proper rituals of course, he'd have been immortal. If she'd managed it, you'd have been her lover. She'd have kept you with her all her days…or until she got tired of you."

Will shuddered. "What would she have done with me then?"

Jack shrugged. "No idea, mate."

"What did Poseidon mean?" Elizabeth asked. "Poseidon said he was free. Of what exactly?

"He's free. Nothing of the sea can harm him. He'd fulfilled his destiny. The rest of his life is his own. That's their gift to him."

"And you?" Elizabeth asked, a smirk on her face. "What did you get out of this? Surely you asked for something."

Jack hesitated, and when he answered Elizabeth was certain he wasn't telling them everything. "I asked for the Pearl. She's mine. She won't sail for anyone else. I can't be mutinied again!"

Jack cleared his throat. "If you're quite finished asking stupid questions, I'd like to sort that bandage." He gestured to a loose end flapping freely from Will's arm, and the Blacksmith turned back to him and allowed his ministrations. When Jack finished bandaging the burn, he checked Will for broken bones. "You're a lucky one, Will Turner. No broken ribs. Bruised, painful, yes, but not broken."

"He's feverish." Elizabeth's worry had not diminished.

"I'll be fine, Elizabeth."

"You will rest, Will. Until we've met with Norrington, there's nothing but bed rest for you."

Will looked imploringly at Jack, who laughed. "Get used to it, mate. It will only get worse once you're married."

**

Norrington watched the skyline for signs of the Black Pearl. Sparrow had insisted that he'd find the Endeavor, and James had no call not to believe him. Odd that he seemed able to trust the Pirate now, yet that has seemed so impossible a task not so long ago.

He considered Will and Elizabeth's predicament. What could truly be done for them? He could take them in. Return to England with them ostensibly as his prisoners only to plead their case himself. Of course, if none would take his word, Elizabeth and Will would be hanged. He found himself unwilling to risk it and was shocked to discover it wasn't only for Elizabeth's sake. Will Turner.

How had Will Turner become a man he could admire?

He shook his head at his own stupidity. The truth was, Turner had always been admirable, but Norrington had been unwilling. Turner was a rival for Elizabeth's affections, and, worse, he was a far nobler man than Norrington himself.

He was chagrined to admit that he was actually considering advising them to remain pirates. Certainly the pirates accepted then more easily than did polite society. Elizabeth was, after all, the Pirate King.

He shook his head. He knew Turner wouldn't accept that, and he doubted Elizabeth would want to start a family on the high seas. There had to be a way to procure pardons for the couple. He wondered if any of Governor Swann's contacts might prove useful.

The Governor was attempting to build a network of people who might owe him favors, but Norrington had no idea how far along that had come. He knew Swann had long envisioned his daughter returning to life in London, but he doubted Elizabeth would ever wish that for herself. She was one English Rose that had bloomed beyond recognition in the sunny Caribbean.

He reviewed his own list of contacts, recalling them all and where they stood in the grand scheme of London's politics. One might be of help, but would that one be willing?

**

The Black Pearl cut through the water with a speed it should not have been able to reach. Since her encounter with the God and Goddess of the Sea, she'd taken on an enchanted quality; her deck was in good repair, and any cracks or other damages she'd sustained in the battle with Cutler Beckett's forces was minimal and easily repaired.

Captain Jack Sparrow knew it was likely his imagination, but The Pearl seemed to sail straighter, prouder, and responded more easily to his commands almost as though she anticipated her master's desires. The euphoria this brought about was short lived. Sparrow's concern now was for Will and Elizabeth. Will's injuries were serious, especially the brand. He cursed Cutler Beckett with every ounce of venom in his possession, and Captain Jack Sparrow possessed more than his share of venom especially against those who had hurt his friends.

His other cause of concern was how he might help the pair regain their places in Port Royal or London society. Will was on his own as far as being a blacksmith and marrying above his station, but Jack had promised the pair that he'd see them pardoned. He wasn't sure how to bring that about. He'd though of pleading with Poseidon for help, but this seemed out of his purview.

Of course, perhaps Poseidon knew of some other deity or demi-deity that might be feeling particularly beneficent, but somehow Jack was unwilling to call upon additional supernatural forces. Poseidon had been right. It hadn't been part of the deal that he himself be permitted to maintain his human life. The Locker had been the first step back to the supernatural. His flirtations with Tia Dalma and his possession of Poseidon's book had been a way to hold onto the otherworldly when he himself was unaware why he might need to hold onto anything supernatural. The truth was it was his nature. Deities and demi-deities supernatural beings…it was real. Of course he'd been peripherally aware of it. He'd run afoul of the supernatural forces most of his life.

The only difference now was that he understood why. He pondered immortality and the questions Elizabeth had asked him. What had he gotten out of it? Would she have believed him if he'd told her everything? He was sure she wouldn't have. She was a pirate by nature: distrustful, suspicious, calculating. And yet, there was more to Elizabeth Swann. She was a Pirate King by his own vote, and she certainly wouldn't have been convinced to vote for anyone other than herself. Very Pirate-like behavior. Yet, for all her piratical ways, she was doing what she was doing to save herself and Will Turner. That was the rub. That was the one thing that saved her from being a soulless scallywag like Barbossa, Sao Feng, or even Cutler Beckett. They were interested only in helping themselves.

Now, Will Turner was another matter. Jack smiled as he considered the earnest words and determined eyes of the boy who'd come to him in a Port Royal prison to beg his help. He was certain he could turn the boy into a pirate. Will did what was necessary. For him, the end justified the means…sometimes…and if saving his ladylove meant committing an act of piracy, he'd do it with minimal hesitation. But hesitate he would. Jack was equally certain that if Elizabeth wanted—really desired—a life of piracy, Will Turner would turn his back on his trade, his dreams, and his desires to be sure all of Elizabeth's were fulfilled.

He shook his head. Not at all Pirate-like behavior.

Jack couldn't help but wonder how Bootstrap was. He'd seen the ship disappear below the water line, but he believed his old mate was nearby, shadowing them until he was certain his boy would be well. It was Bootstrap's weakness…his son. Always was. Not that Jack had ever considered it a weakness, but it was a vulnerability, and it was one Jack shared.

His thoughts raced around themselves like a dog after his own tail as he wondered what he could do. If worse came to worse, he could insist the Pirate King take her…eunuch…and live it up on the high seas. There were worse lives, and both Will and Elizabeth seemed to have taken to it well enough. Being Pirate King suited the girl, and he'd seen the whelp come alive as the salt spray hit him and the deck rolled beneath his feet.

He still thought their best bet was to mutilate the brand. If they waited until it healed, it could be done relatively easily. Not painlessly, of course, and that was something Elizabeth wouldn't permit, though Jack knew Will would do it anyway if faced with no options. The lad was still single-minded in his desire to protect his Elizabeth.

He scowled and threw himself back in his seat, eyes roving around the room as though the solutions he sought could be found among the bric-a-brac a crazed pirate had collected over the course of his career.

And of course it was.

**

Will had slept fitfully awakening often and always to find Elizabeth by his side offering water to drink or a cool cloth for his head. Now, Will had barely opened his eyes when he felt the cool wetness once more. He reached up a hand and caught Elizabeth's wrist. "Elizabeth…" He whispered.

"Will, you should rest."

"I've rested." He sat up, his eyes clear and alert, and his hand still holding Elizabeth's wrist. "We should talk."

"About what?"

"I love you, Elizabeth."

Her eyes softened and she smiled at him. "And I love you, Will."

"But do we have a future together…assuming we can obtain our pardons, Elizabeth…I've never been unsure of my love for you, or yours for me, but is there something else you love more?"

"Will, how can you ask?" Her distress was obvious, and Will cursed himself for causing it.

"I ask because of my father. He loved me, and my mother, yet he could not stay with us. Elizabeth, where does your heart lie?" When she didn't answer, he loosened his grip on her wrist, dropping his own hand into his lap. "Is it Jack?"

"NO! Will, I love you! I've always loved you! There has never been anyone else I've ever wanted to share my life with!"

"Yes, but what life? Port Royal? Pirate King? London?" Will sighed and forced himself to look into her eyes regardless of his fear of what he'd see there. His voice dropped to the insecure whisper he'd used with her before the undead had become such a fixture in their lives and he cursed himself for allowing the insecurities to show. "Assuming I can resume my trade, would you be content being a blacksmith's wife?"

"Only if the blacksmith is you." Elizabeth's eyes locked onto his and the love he saw stole his breath away.

He reached for her then, and the pair kissed, overbalancing and falling backwards onto the bed. Their long separation and the overwhelming relief at being once again in each other's arms drove out any thought of impropriety that might once have overwhelmed Will Turner, but to his chagrin, she pulled away from him.

"Will! You're feverish!"

He blinked as he realized she spoke not of passion but of health. "I will be well, Elizabeth."

"Yes, but you must rest, Will. I'll get you something to drink." She was off in an instant, and Will could not help but feel something other than his health had driven her once more from his arms.

**

While Elizabeth busied herself finding water for Will, she promised herself that she would not permit him to endanger himself once again. He was her priority. She saw doubt in his eyes and she knew she had put it there somehow. She had hurt him. He had believed she was in love with Jack, and if he had convinced himself to believe her when she professed her love for him and not the Pirate Captain, he still doubted her commitment to him. She was Pirate King after all, and with such a bizarre set of circumstances, perhaps he could not believe that she would give such a thing up. Not that it really meant anything, of course. Even as Pirate King, she had only a modicum of influence over the other pirates. Any desire they had to follow her own orders had expired when divine intervention had taken Cutler Beckett away. She was a King in name only.

She knew Will's concern was that she had tasted the freedom of piracy and would be unable to give it up. The truth was, she had had enough of piracy. It wasn't romantic or exciting, and it had jeopardized the only life she had ever chosen for herself: a life with Will Turner.

Truly, now that the imminent danger was over, she longed for Port Royal. She wondered at the change in her desires and could not help but see it as a remnant of the prophecy. Perhaps for the Pirate prophecy to be fulfilled, Will had to lose his heart to a woman infatuated with the life of a pirate. Perhaps it was that early childhood obsession—spurred into existence by a lonely little girl missing her mother and looking for a distraction because she was bound to take a long sea voyage—that had set in motion the events that had culminated in Bootstrap Bill Turner taking the life of Davy Jones.

She found the water and turned back towards the room where she'd left Will. Her thoughts drifted back over the last few years, and she found she now had a longing for the life she'd lost. For her life as the Governor's Daughter…a life she could never really have again. With her father gone, what role could she play in Port Royal Society?

The answer was obvious. She could be the Blacksmith's wife. She had only to convince the Blacksmith that this was indeed all that she desired.

To Be Continued