Elizabeth leaned back against a tree and allowed the dappled rays of the sinking sun peeking through the branches to warm her face. She opened her eyes from time to time to check the how close it was to sundown. She didn't actually need to make the effort. There was no way that William would allow her to fall asleep and miss the exact moment of his father's return. He hadn't allowed more than five minutes to pass between each time he questioned his mother about when they should leave for the cliff's edge. At least now he had stopped asking why she wanted to wait on the cliff instead of down on the shore. If she had to guess that change had nothing to do with him learning to be patient and everything to do with the view afforded by his perch in the top of the tree. It briefly crossed her mind that she should have perhaps warned her son exactly how his father's ship would appear. While he was overly observant for his age and figured things out quickly, she wasn't sure he quite understood all the ramifications of the green flash she was waiting for. Perhaps it was best to just leave him alone to his solitary vigil in the treetops. It wasn't as if she could blame him for his impatience. He was just like her in that respect.
Elizabeth looked up at her son in his makeshift look out high above in the very same tree. She was positive that he had again climbed higher into the gnarled branches after she had implicitly told him not to. The boy could climb like a monkey. From a very early age someone always had to be assigned to watch him when they were aboard ship. All he needed was someone to look away for one split second and he was up the nearest set of ropes. Today he was obviously keeping a look out for his father and watching for any signs of his mother's attention to his activities waning. He was not one to allow an opportune moment to push the limits to escape without good reason. Elizabeth didn't intend to be an overprotective mother, but the boy was completely and totally fearless. That particular trait he had gotten from his father -or at least that's how she justified his antics to herself.
"William!" Elizabeth called up to her son trying not to sound too anxious. "I think it's time to come down now."
"I told you to call me Will," he complained as he began his descent, swinging down from branch to branch with amazing grace and agility.
"And I told you to not get dirty and to not climb any higher into that tree," she retorted -mimicking his tone. "Now, hurry up."
William stopped what he was doing and balanced on a branch fifteen feet or so above the ground. He looked down at his mother and flashed an ear to ear grin – a grin that warned that even more reckless behavior was soon to follow. Elizabeth caught her breath at the sudden, unexpected resemblance to his father and the fear of what William had planned.
"Don't even think about it," she warned sternly.
William rolled his eyes and heaved an over exaggerated sigh as he carefully climbed the rest of the way down the tree. The look on his face clearly indicated that his plan had been to jump – and on any other day, he just might very well have done so. Once at the bottom, he dusted the bits of bark and leaves from his clothes and retrieved his hat from where it had fallen. It most certainly wouldn't do to meet his father looking like a street urchin.
"Now?" he asked, sounding both hopeful and nervous.
"Yes," Elizabeth said so calmly she surprised even herself. She could not quite believe that the end and their beginning were finally here.
The pair walked out from the small stand of trees into the tall grass covering the promontory, leaving the remains of their picnic and other odds and ends behind them. As they closed in on the edge, Will broke away from his mother and skipped towards the precipice. We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot, drink up me hearties, yo ho. The lyrics to the song she had just taught him floated through the air in his merry childlike voice.
Elizabeth caught up to him at the edge of the cliff, put her arm around his shoulder and pulled him in close. William looked up anxiously at his mother. Elizabeth smiled down at him reassuringly, all the while wishing she had someone to reassure her and knowing that the only person who could do so would soon be there. The pair of them looked out over the bay as the sun began to slowly sink below the horizon.
It all happened very quickly - the brilliant green flash reflecting off of both their faces and in their eyes as the Flying Dutchman appeared out of nothingness. Elizabeth couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face. She could feel William moving in closer to her, but she could not tear her eyes away from the sight before her to see what his reaction was.
The ship was, if possible, even brighter than it had been the last time she had seen it. She could make out a figure hanging from the rat lines and knew in her heart that it was Will. The rays from the setting sun gave both Will and the ship an unearthly, ethereal glow. Her heart raced and the butterflies in her stomach grew more active as she continued watching for a few minutes until he swung down from his perch onto the deck.
The first pink and gold rays of dawn were ever so timidly peeking from around the minute breaks in the cloud cover. There was a sudden, deafening roar of thunder accompanied by a nearly simultaneous flash of lightning as the heavens opened up. Will could hear the rain slapping the water's surface a short distance behind the ship. It was rapidly moving in their direction and should soon overtake them. Apparently Josephine Swann had been right about when the rain would start. Hopefully, she was also correct in what such a torrential downpour signified in the land of the dead.
And then it happened.
There was a blinding flash of green light and instead of a violent dawn storm there were instead the puffy white clouds and fading gold, rose, and purple streaked sky of a Caribbean sunset. It only took a second or two for Will's eyes to readjust. And then he saw them -both of them, standing at the edge of the cliff - above the beach where he and Elizabeth had agreed to meet a decade earlier. An ever so faint smile crossed his lips at the sight of them.
Will clung to his perch – never once taking his eyes off of his wife and son - as the ship continued its progress towards shore. The temptation to immediately rush to the longboat and head ashore was almost more than he could stand, but he knew that in the long run, waiting for the ship to sail into the bay as far as possible would ultimately be the best, and most importantly, the fastest course of action.
The minutes passed with an agonizing slowness. Eventually, however, Will grew tired of waiting - for even he had a limit to his patience. With great effort he wiped the smile from his face as he jumped back on to the deck with catlike grace and agility. He once again bore the stern, serious look he had perfected during his years in command of the Flying Dutchman. If he could just maintain that image for a few more minutes, this would all be behind him – forever. Will looked around at the various crew members gathered on the deck in a neat and orderly line with Bootstrap waiting closest to the side of the ship and the ladder Will would use to climb down to the longboat. They were all there with the exception of James Norrington. Even if James had long since reconciled himself to the fact that he had never loved the woman Elizabeth really was, surely it would be awkward for him to watch Will and Elizabeth's imminent reunion.
Will walked down the line much like he had watched Elizabeth do aboard the Black Pearl ten years earlier. No one spoke although a few members of the crew either nodded or tugged their forelocks in acknowledgement of their soon to be former captain. Bootstrap waited patiently at the end of the line until Will approached. Father and son stood for a few moments staring wordlessly at one another before Will broke the silence.
"Permission to leave the ship, Captain Turner?"
"Permission granted, Mr. Turner," Bootstrap replied authoritatively although his pride in his only son reflected incontestably in his eyes. "I suppose this is goodbye?"
"I promised I would come to see you off tomorrow. You should know by now that I keep my promises."
"Aye, you do." Bootstrap paused for a moment to gather the courage to make yet another request of Will. "And will you try to bring the boy?" the new Captain inquired.
"That is something I cannot promise, but I will try," Will responded with a virtually imperceptible smile. Until that moment it had not occurred to him how much he wanted to show off his own son to his father. Grandparents were a rare commodity in the Turner family – as were parents – until today, at least.
Bootstrap couldn't help but notice the pride in Will's voice and the sparkle in his eyes at the mention of his son. It was the same reaction he had when he thought of what his own son had accomplished in his life and what he might do with the new life he was about to begin. For years Bootstrap had been guilt ridden over having abandoned Will and his mother. Seeing what a good man he had turned out to be had assuaged some, but not all, of his guilt. He knew deep inside that taking over the Dutchman and its tragic, but vital purpose would be the final step in forgiving himself.
"Might I suggest you get going?" Bootstrap said encouragingly. "I suspect there is a young woman on the beach who is quite anxious to see you. Not to mention the boy?"
Will looked up towards the cliff and noticed that Elizabeth and William were no longer visible. That had to mean they were making their way down to the shoreline to greet him. His eyes crinkled as he flashed his father a huge smile. He then walked to the edge of the ship and climbed down into the longboat.
"I think, perhaps, we should head down to the beach," Elizabeth said to her son as she looked down at him. "What say you to that?"
William continued to stare at the magnificent ship sailing ever closer to the shore. It wasn't as if he didn't have any experience with sea going vessels of varying sizes, shapes, and distinctly different levels of seaworthiness, but this one had the child completely, totally and hopelessly mesmerized. He offered no reaction to his mother's question.
"William? Did you hear me?" she asked again.
"Mmmm," he mumbled noncommittally in a classic rendition of a nine-year-old's version of "I heard you, but I wasn't really listening to you" response.
Elizabeth crouched down slightly to William's level. She knew how emotionally overwhelmed she felt at seeing the ship reappear and at being able to so clearly spot Will. She couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like for William. Did he even realize that the man clinging to the rat lines was his father?
"Do you see him?" Elizabeth asked the boy, her voice barely above a whisper.
William blinked several times as if he were awakening from a short nap. His awestruck expression quickly disappeared only to be replaced with one of pure joy and excitement.
"That really is him, isn't it?" His voice was filled with wonder.
Elizabeth smiled at William as she straightened back up and offered him her hand.
"Were you expecting someone else?" she asked teasingly. "Now, let's go. I don't want him to make it to the beach before us!"
William took one look at his mother's proffered hand, turned away from the cliff and again skipped back towards the path leading down from the cliff, leaving his mother behind.
Elizabeth smiled, shook her head and followed after her son at an equally brisk pace albeit one that did not cover as much ground as quickly as her son's.
Will had given no thought to who would actually row him in to shore. As long as he got there, the how of the short trip seemed insignificant. He would have done it himself save the matter of getting the boat back to the Dutchman. He just assumed that Bootstrap would assign one of the crew members to take care of the duty. Bootstrap himself had requested not to be burdened with that chore since he did not plan to start his one day ashore until the next morning. He had claimed it would be too tempting to be that close to his grandson and not want to go ashore, but the truth was he had no idea how Elizabeth would react to his presence. He was sure that while she might have forgiven him, she would surely never forget the rather gruesome role he had played in both saving Will and burdening him with Davy Jones' curse.
The man stationed at the oars was not a shock to Will, but he was certainly a surprise, albeit a not unpleasant one. He hadn't even recognized him until he sat across from him and looked him closely in the face. The sailor's normally neatly dressed and well groomed self was anything but at the moment. His clothes were mismatched, oversized and decidedly filthy. On his head, pulled low over his ears and nearly down to his eyebrows, was a stocking cap that had long since seen better days. Even at his lowest point, James Norrington had never looked quite this bad. Will suddenly understood the reason behind James' recent neglect of his personal grooming.
"Don't you think you're living a bit dangerously - considering you did not want my wife to know you were on board?" Will asked. He immediately regretted how he had phrased the question when Norrington winced ever so slightly at the phrase "my wife." She's just Elizabeth to him, a long standing friend - nothing more, nothing less. Honestly, it still sounds strange to me too. "I'm apologize, that sounded a bit harsher than I intended."
James raised an eyebrow in confusion before it occurred to him what Will was referring to. "No need for that, it's just that I've never actually heard anyone refer to Elizabeth as a wife before. Mrs. Turner, yes, but wife? It just sounded odd to me is all."
"Honestly, even after all this time it still feels strange to call her that too," Will confessed.
"Might I point out that you have precious few minutes to get used to it? And while I don't mean to burden you with any more worries, you should perhaps prepare yourself to hear her called "mother" too," James suggested with a laugh.
"You have a point there," Will agreed. "Are you sure she won't recognize you? "
"Admit it, Turner. You almost didn't recognize me yourself. She won't even notice me. Just think of it as me making sure you live up to your promises. I would hate to see you do anything rash this late in the proceedings," James said acerbically with his familiar smirk. "It's not as if you don't have a history of doing something totally unexpected where Elizabeth is concerned. Besides, who could possibly have more experience with you in these matters than I do?" His voice carried a distinctly playful tone.
Will looked back up at the ship and tried to ignore James' commentary as both men pushed off from the side towards the open water. What he needed at the moment, but could not find, was an equally snappy response. While James' words were not intended to hurt, and hadn't, they did hit just a bit too close to home – he was guilty of not always thinking a situation through when it came to Elizabeth. It certainly wasn't something that was going to change in the foreseeable future.
Will had expected to feel nothing when he left the ship, but it did fell odd knowing he was leaving the place that had been his home for ten years. Perhaps home wasn't the most accurate of descriptions, but it would have to do. It was even stranger to realize that he had never lived in any one place longer than he had been aboard that ship. He and his mother had lived in several places during his childhood so while he didn't miss any one specific place, he had missed England when he left to come to the Caribbean. He had even missed Port Royal when he left - in spite of the fact he was under a death sentence. The ship was a different story. It was a place he had never wanted to be in the first place and he could not fathom ever missing it at all. Home for Will Turner was obviously based on who he shared his life with more so than where he lived it.
"Are you ready?" James asked, interrupting Will's thoughts.
"More than you can possibly imagine."
William ran down the top section of the path and skidded to a halt where it veered off in two directions. Did not his mother understand how impatient he was? Couldn't she move any faster? He stood there restlessly kicking stones around until he remembered what would happen if his mother noticed he had scuffed his shoes. He paced back and forth trying to catch another glimpse of the ship and his father. He noticed that the longboat was no longer swinging from the side of the ship. That meant it had to be in the water. Hadn't mother said she wanted to get to the shore first? Where was she?
Elizabeth was in actuality less than a minute behind her son. She, too, wanted to run down the steep pathways to the beach, but was trying desperately to restrain herself. It wouldn't get Will to shore any faster and she didn't even want to imagine what effect her impatience would have on William. This was one of those situations when she wished their son were more calm and easy-going as his father tended to be - instead of impetuous and head-strong like her, but there was no changing that now. All she could do at this point was hope that William could contain his enthusiasm long enough for her to catch up.
William remained at the midpoint where the paths leveled out and switched directions until his mother arrived. It was about to kill him to have to wait for her, but he knew he was forbidden to go down to the beach alone. Once his mother made a rule there was no getting her to change it. It wasn't as if she had made that many rules, but nothing good ever came from breaking one. No matter how much he wanted to run ahead he managed to refrain from doing so - barely. Besides, questions were beginning to fill his head faster than he could process them. He needed to start asking them before he started forgetting them and before he had to start sharing Elizabeth's attentions with the man headed for shore at that very moment. Worse yet, he realized he would also have to share his father's attention with his mother. No matter how he looked at it, he was going to come out lacking.
"I suppose stopping here for a rest would be out of the question? Elizabeth teased her son as she finally caught up with him.
William narrowed his eyes at his mother. "That's not funny," he complained. "We need to hurry!" he implored as he grabbed her hand and pulled her towards second path.
"You would think this is important or something by the way you're acting," Elizabeth commented with a glimmer of mischief in her eye.
"MOTHER!" William said, getting more exasperated with her by the minute. He again tugged her towards the head of the path leading down to the shore.
Elizabeth followed him the first few steps without hesitation, but stopped short before they had gone very far. She looked down the steep, rock strewn path and tried to remember if it had always been this daunting and perilous. She and Will had come here often up until just a few days before they were supposed to marry. It was one of the few places they could go and be almost completely assured of privacy - for no other reason than this particular section of coastline was difficult to access on foot. No one ever came here unless they had a particular purpose in mind. Perhaps being a mother now caused her to view it in a whole different light. Had she known, or even suspected, that she was pregnant when she and Will had decided that this was where they would meet she might have very well chosen some place easier to get to. It had never occurred to either of them that their reunion would include one very impatient young boy too.
"William, I know you're anxious. I'm anxious too, but we have to take it a bit slower down this section. It can be dangerous and I don't want anything to happen to you," Elizabeth calmly explained.
"Yes, ma'am. I understand," he replied earnestly. He turned his face up towards his mother's as he spoke. The look on his face was one of complete seriousness and determination. "I'll hold your hand on the way down. I promise I won't let you fall."
Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat. Her memory flashed back twelve years to the first time someone had said those exact same words to her – to the first time she had come here with Will. Sometimes it was almost uncanny how much William resembled his father in his personality and habits, most especially given that the pair had never spent any significant amount of time together beyond William's infancy. Elizabeth smiled at her eldest, but hopefully not only, child and gestured towards the beach.
"Very well, let's go."