Will looked around for the coat he had stowed aboard the boat earlier. It was just exactly where he had left it – not that he was surprised by that. He carefully checked the pockets for the packet of letters and the leather bundle containing the jeweler's tools and heirlooms that had been passed along to him. They too were exactly where he had left them. Once he had reassured himself that everything was in place, he picked up a second set of oars, and proceeded to assist with the task of getting the boat to shore.
"In a bit of a hurry are you, Turner?"
James Norrington was beginning to get on Will's nerves. They had avoided speaking to each other for years and now Will couldn't get away from the man. There had been a time when Will wouldn't have thought twice about the need to choose his words carefully when dealing with him, but things so many things had passed between them since those days. Will chose to ignore the taunt for what it was – nothing. Yet had James said the same thing but one day earlier Will's reaction would have been enormously different. It felt strange to not bristle up at the slightest provocation from him.
"Actually, Turner, I think I would do better at this without your assistance. Might I point out that you're a bit – distracted? Your efforts, while admirable, are proving to be somewhat counterproductive."
Will halfway laughed as he banked his oars and again patted down his pockets. His eyebrows creased with concern over not being able to immediately locate everything he had expected to find. He slipped on hand into the voluminous space and extracted the packet of letters. These he put in his lap as he returned his hand to rummage around some more. He closed his eyes in relief as he located the package he was searching for in a fold in the fabric. He removed his hand and returned the letters to their previous location before speaking again.
"Elizabeth she tried to get you to come with her when you helped her to escape from the Dutchman," Will stated simply as he looked James directly in the eyes.
"As a matter of fact, she did."
"Why didn't you?"
"Other than the obvious?" James said abrasively, while quickly glancing back at the ship then returning his gaze to Will.
Will flinched every so slightly at James' words. It was easy to forget that his own father had killed James – he hadn't been there. But it was still something he did not relish thinking about. Despite all that had happened, James had been –and still was—Elizabeth's friend. He reminded himself that if he and James had not been so stubborn, they too would perhaps have been friends aboard the Dutchman, but it was too late for that now. Will felt the tiniest flicker of regret that he and James had not come to an understanding years earlier – perhaps they could have been friends or perhaps not, but that chance was now past.
James looked back at Will, and took notice of his reaction. It had not been his intention to cause him any discomfort on this most miraculous of days, but old habits died hard. After all, for all intents and purposes, Will had been James' rival for Elizabeth's affections since he was twelve, but it most certainly hadn't been a calculated effort on Will's part. It had just sort of happened. There never had been and never would be a way to predict where your heart might lead you. He had always found that idea somehow sweet if viewed from Elizabeth's perspective, while simultaneously humiliating from his own.
"Now, it's my turn to apologize, again. That was out of line. I did not know he was your father at the time, I'm not sure he even knew he was your father at the moment, and it honestly doesn't matter. As for my reasons…" James' voice trailed off as he hesitated for a moment - never once breaking the rhythm of the oars. "I had no place left in that world. Had it not been for the most unfortunate event with your father, I don't know what I would have done. I certainly couldn't have continued as I was. I knew Beckett had to be destroyed, but I never got as far as devising a plan."
Will just nodded. It was strange to think that they had all ended up on the same side after having been at cross purposes for so long. Despite James having been somewhat misguided in some of his pursuits, he had been a good man in life, and was now an even better man in death.
"Are you still sure you don't want me to tell Elizabeth about your service aboard the Dutchman?"
James sighed heavily before answering. "No… yes… not yet. Who knows? Perhaps one day your children will want to know of your adventures. If you choose to include me in those tales I would be honored."
"That's the second time tonight that someone has mentioned children to me in the plural form."
"Your mother and Lady Swann, I presume?"
Will tilted his head to one side as he pondered what James had said. "Yes, but how did you know?"
"I told you I was trying to keep you from doing anything rash," he said with mock exasperation. "I asked Bootstrap who you would go see in port a long time ago. You do know that your mother knows what lies ahead for you, don't you? She just wasn't permitted to tell you directly, because you don't belong in her world anymore. Because you're back on this side, to stay."
"She did imply that," Will commented with a shrug.
"They both gave you something to bring back, didn't they?"
"Is there anything you don't know?"
James flashed a quick smile. "You keep checking your coat pockets. I can't imagine there being much back there you would want to bring with you," he answered, gesturing back towards the ship with his head.
"Am I that obvious?"
"Only recently. I won't ask what they gave you—that's between you and your family—but if I had to guess, they each gave you instructions on what was to be done with what they gave you, or who to ask. "
Will nodded as he tried to remember Meg's and Josephine's exact words.
"Whatever they told you is most likely a clue. If one of them implied more children then you might want to start thinking of names," James added seriously although his voice was lightly tinted with mirth.
Will rolled his eyes. "Elizabeth has had those decided for years now. I don't know if I'll have much choice in the matter."
"That somehow doesn't surprise me, but if you run out of ideas, I've always been rather partial to James. It sounds quite distinguished, don't you think?" His voice carried a distinct air of importance, but his face clearly showed his amusement at the prospect of Will and Elizabeth naming a son after him.
"I'll take it under advisement," Will responded with a hearty laugh. "Then I would have to explain to Elizabeth why I suggested it."
"Excellent point! I can't imagine her curiosity has diminished any, over the years." James smiled and looked questioningly at Will for confirmation.
"Trust me, it hasn't."
"It is rather a shame you don't have much to show for your tour of duty. I noticed you didn't even bring a sword."
"It wasn't mine. I'm hoping that Elizabeth has been able to recover one that I made when she came back to Port Royal—or I could make myself another one to rival even yours," Will pointed out with a smirk.
"I must confess that I do regret Davy Jones ending up with that sword. It was far too beautiful to be wasted on someone as vile as he was," James added.
"I won't argue that point," Will sighed. "It's gone now, lost to the sea, never to be seen again," he said gesturing dramatically towards the water.
"Do you intend to go back to smithing? It would be a shame to see such talent go to waste. You could make yourself another one befitting your skills as a swordsman."
"My skills as a swordsman? I seem to recall you reminding me once, that I was a blacksmith and neither a sailor nor a military man."
"I admit I was blinded by convention… and perhaps a touch of jealousy. I always knew she would have chosen you given the opportunity." James shrugged his shoulders and sighed. "You did surprise us all with how easily and quickly you learned military strategy and adapted to the life of a sailor. You would have made an excellent naval officer. Who knows? There might still be a place for you there. Then again, I'm not sure how they would feel about a formerly immortal sea captain joining their ranks -not to mention that you're a bit long in the tooth to start a career like that. No, perhaps it would be best if you find some other manner of gainful employment. "
"Thank you," Will said. His voice showed that he truly meant it. "But I don't think I'll be doing anything to take me away from Elizabeth – and William." Will fell quiet as his eyes drifted from James back to the shoreline. He couldn't see them now, but he knew they would be visible again soon as they made their way down from the cliff.
The pair in question was, at the moment, cautiously making their way down the cliff. William picked his way downward with the sure-footedness of a mountain goat, all while peppering his mother with a barrage of questions. Elizabeth's progress was slower – mainly due to her divided attentions. It would have been challenge enough to keep up with her son's pace while fighting the inevitable anxiety and anticipation of being reunited with her husband, but the incessant demand for answers from William was almost enough to do her in. Curiosity was a character trait their son had in excess – one that she didn't think she could blame on his father.
"Will he still have his sword? Do you think he'll let me look at it? I want to learn to sword fight. He taught you, didn't he? Do you think he'll teach me? When I'm old enough, I mean. Is he going to start making swords again? Maybe he'll make me my own sword! Can I ask him? Does he know how to ride? I can teach him if he doesn't. He can show me places you won't let me go. Would that be all right? He can teach me to sail too. I might even be captain of my own ship someday. I promise I won't become a pirate, or if I do, I promise I'll be a good pirate. I won't kill people, or kidnap them, or hold them for ransom or anything like that. Has father killed anyone? Did he know Grandfather Swann? Why does Uncle Captain Jack call him 'whelp?' That's not nice, is it? Don't they like each other? Was Mr. Gibbs really there the day you rescued father from the shipwreck? Did Uncle Hector really try to kill father once?"
"WILLIAM!" Elizabeth nearly shouted as they reached the bottom of the trail and stepped out onto the sand. It had long since become apparent that the relentless torrent of questions were not going to stop any time soon – or at least not without some outside intervention.
"Yes, ma'am?" he asked innocently.
"You're going to have to be patient. You'll have forever to ask your father whatever it is you want to know, but I'm sure he'll be tired tonight. His job isn't – wasn't exactly easy. Perhaps it would be best if we let him get used to living here with us before we start making demands?" Elizabeth suggested. And getting used to being wholly alive again. Not to mention us getting used to having him around.
William looked up at his mother, the disappointment was clear on his face, but she could also tell from his expression that he had understood her point. He might not have liked it, but he agreed with her. Mother and son walked across the white sandy beach to a point just short of where the waves gently broke against the shoreline, and watched the longboat and its steady progress towards them.
James watched Will for a moment, before deciding it best to just leave him to his thoughts. He was obviously distracted - that was to be expected. But he also detected some other vague quality to Will's behavior that he just couldn't pin down. James couldn't remember a single instance of Will not being the model of cool, collected confidence and competence the entire time he had served aboard the Dutchman. Even the tone of his voice displayed an unheard-of evenness. Now, however, it was as if all of the emotions he had bottled up for the last ten years were just now beginning to creep back towards the surface. James had been on the receiving end of at least one of the volatile eruptions that occurred when Will's emotions took control. He did not relish experiencing it again. No, he decided, it was best to let Elizabeth handle this one. She had signed on for the job after all. He honestly couldn't blame Will for being on edge. Hadn't he risked everything – even life itself--on the chance that he could one day break his bond to the Dutchman? No one, save Calypso, knew for sure if what they had planned would work. It all seemed so simple when you though about it – remain faithful to the one your heart loves truly for ten years and viola! – You're free. James refused to think what might happen if things didn't work – not only for Will's sake, but for Elizabeth's and their son's too.
Will watched as his wife and son made their way out onto the sand. They were obviously having some sort of discussion, but about what he had no clue. He smiled to himself as he remembered Elizabeth telling him how much their son was like him. Something about the way the two were talking made him think that the boy quite probably had a significant dose of his own mother's curiosity and impulsiveness also - two traits that had gotten her into trouble on more than one occasion. And yet those same two traits were what had brought them together. He could almost hear Jack's voice in his head saying, "funny ole world, innit?"
James turned his head to the side and stole a quick look at the woman he had once hoped to marry. He had long since come to grips with the fact that she had chosen the correct path for herself. The last time he had seen her, she still hadn't been much more than a young girl. Seeing her as a woman grown, with her child by her side, was strangely more of a comfort to him than he could ever have imagined.
Will took one oar, and used it to test the depth of the water. It was still too deep for him to wade ashore, but it was getting shallower by the second. It wouldn't be much longer. He then tugged off the tall, black boots he always wore, followed by the well worn pair of gray socks. These he stuffed carelessly in either boot. Although it was rather warm outside he decided the best course of action would be to wear his coat. It was awkward trying to put it on in the boat, but he managed. He smiled at the thought of Elizabeth's reaction if he – Will Turner, immortal captain of the Flying Dutchman – fell out of an ordinary longboat while being rowed to shore. He didn't even want to imagine what James' reaction would be.
James watched the proceedings with amusement. He halfway expected Will to just dive into the water and swim the rest of the way. It would be seriously undignified, but understandable, given the circumstances. Just then one of James' oars scrapped bottom. The boat lurched ever so slightly. Will tore his gaze away from Elizabeth and looked at James for confirmation.
"I do believe we have come as far as I can go," James stated with the slightest hint of mirth in his voice.
Will cautiously stood up in the boat, grabbed onto one side and hopped over into the water. It was not as deep as he expected, but deep enough that the hem of his breeches and the lower hem of his coat both became soaked with sea water. As he leaned back in to pick up his boots, he stole one final look at the Dutchman, before he began to trudge through the water to his family.
"Turner." James spoke without turning his head towards Will or towards the shore.
Will stopped and looked back to James.
"Remember what I said. Take care of them, or else I might just have to come back and haunt you." This time the laughter in his voice was clear.
"If I weren't determined to keep that promise beforehand, I most certainly am now!"
Elizabeth saw Will laugh at the oarsman. For some reason, he looked oddly familiar to her, but she could not imagine why. Perhaps he was one of the multitudes of pirates and sailors alike that she had come in contact with over the past decade. She pushed that unimportant thought from her mind as she kicked off her own shoes, and prepared to enter the water herself.
"I have to stay here, don't I?" asked a small voice beside her.
Elizabeth jumped. She had been so focused on Will that she had forgotten that she was not alone. "Yes, but I won't keep him long," she said as she looked down at William. She immediately noticed the change in expression on his face. "Are you nervous?"
The little boy swallowed hard and nodded his head.
"I'm sure he's as nervous about meeting you as you are about meeting him," she offered in consolation.
William nodded again, stepped back a short distance and nodded towards the open water. "He's coming," he whispered in a voice so soft that Elizabeth could barely hear it. The child was clearly awestruck.
Elizabeth turned back towards the water and Will's single minded trek towards shore. She unceremoniously hiked up her skirt and waded out to meet him as quickly as the soft sand and currents would allow.
Will and Elizabeth Turner both broke into ear to ear grins as they made their way towards one another. Their eyes locked and remained so. There was literally nothing that could have torn their attention each other. For them, the entire rest of the world had ceased to exist.
Elizabeth felt as if her heart were about to beat itself right out of her chest. She had to remind herself to breathe as her body trembled. Unexpected tears of joy pricked at her eyes as she put both hands on her face.
"Will!" Elizabeth blurted out as she literally threw herself into his waiting arms.
Will grabbed Elizabeth around her waist, picked her up and spun her around. Elizabeth buried her face into the crook of his neck – inhaling deeply to take in the scent of fresh salt air emanating from his sun-warmed skin. Will stroked her hair and part of her back as he nuzzled her ear and quietly whispered her name. His voice broke with emotion as he continued to repeat it. Elizabeth noticed his breathing was as ragged as her own.
Neither one paid any attention to how wet they were getting nor to the worn pair of boots in Will's right hand pressed awkwardly and uncomfortably against Elizabeth's back. They remained locked in their embrace for several minutes – each one oblivious to anyone else who was perhaps watching, each one afraid to let the other one go, and each one content to just enjoy any physical contact with the other.
Elizabeth kept her eyes closed as Will lifted his head. She wrapped her arms around his neck tighter and stood there for a moment – head tilted back, lips slightly parted – anticipating the long awaited kiss that was sure to follow... But nothing happened. As reality began to slowly set back in, she was aware of Will's grip around her waist loosening ever so slightly; next, his right arm, and the boots, pulled away from her completely. She stole a surreptitious peek through her eyelashes as her curiosity and annoyance got the best of her. And then she realized what the one thing that could ever pull Will's attention away from her was. She opened her eyes as she slid her hands from around her husband's neck and down his chest. She then turned so that she was standing by his side instead of facing him, and took his left hand in her right – their fingers automatically intertwining as she did.
She stood on her toes, kissed him on the cheek and whispered in his ear, "I think there's someone who would like to meet you."
Will turned his head to look down at his wife. His eyes were wide with disbelief, as they glistened with unshed tears of joy. Smiling nervously at Elizabeth, he squeezed her hand, before turning back to face their son. He drew a deep breath and exhaled slowly before he continued slogging through the shallow water towards the beach. Elizabeth matched him step for step. Every day for the past ten years she had tried to imagine how this moment would unfold – now she was about to find out.
William watched warily as his mother and the man by her side approached him. The man, his father, looked exactly like William had imagined. What he hadn't been able to conjure up on his own was the quiet intensity of his stare. To William, it seemed as if his father not only kept his gaze trained on him, but that he never blinked either. All of the earlier excitement and anticipation of meeting him was suddenly replaced by fear and trepidation. His father wasn't an overly large man, but he did present an imposing figure – especially to a nine-year-old boy who didn't know him and had idolized him almost from birth. William took an involuntary step backwards away from the water as his parents came ashore. He nervously glanced at his mother for reassurance, but it did little to control the butterflies in his stomach.
Will noticed the boy's nervousness and recalled how hesitant he used to be around Bootstrap when he would be home. Sometimes it had taken him two or three days to readjust to having his father around. No matter how much it hurt to think about it, he knew that it would take some time before his own son adapted to having him around. They were nearly total strangers, after all. Will made a promise to himself, then and there, to allow the boy all the time he needed to accept the changes that were about to take place in all of their lives. Will released Elizabeth's hand, and dropped to his knees in the wet sand in front of his son. His boots were still clutched in his right hand.
"Hi," he said softly.
William did not respond, but took a step towards his mother.
"You're William? I'm your father," Will added, still barely speaking above a whisper. It struck Will how odd those words sounded to him. Knowing he was the boy's father and actually saying it out loud were two very different things.
William reached out for his mother's hand and sidestepped in a half-hearted attempt to hide behind her. Elizabeth was not about to let that happen and stepped aside too.
"Will," the child answered.
Will cocked his head to one side and looked at the boy. Surely Elizabeth hadn't referred to him by his name so often that his own son was going to call him that? It would probably serve him right though, he never called his own father anything other than Bootstrap or on occasion, Mr. Turner.
"I like to be called Will," he said as he eased out of his temporary and seriously inadequate hiding place. "Mother forgets and calls me William anyway, but I don't like it." He stole a quick glance at Elizabeth to gauge her reaction.
"It's my name too. I don't mind it so much." Will tried to sound as reassuring as possible. What he wanted was to wrap his arms around his son and hug him, but he knew he needed to allow the boy time to get used to him. William's wariness with his father still outweighed his curiosity. The conflict was easy to read in his eyes – eyes that Will noticed were so like his own. Elizabeth had not exaggerated when she had told him their son was his exact replica – only in miniature.
"It's Grandfather Turner's name too. Mother told me," William-Will said as he released his mother's hand and moved closer to his father. "Are you going to come live with us now?" he added hopefully.
"Yes - if you'll have me." Will tried to sound hopeful as he belatedly wondered what he would do if Will said no. Fortunately the look in the boy's eyes answered Will's request before the child spoke.
William flashed his father a toothy grin. "I can show you the way home if you like. I'm good at things like that. Aren't I, mother?" he said as he looked at his mother for approval. His voice was gaining confidence with each word.
"Why, yes, you are," Elizabeth said as she tousled his hair. She then turned to Will – still kneeling in the sand. "Might I suggest that you put those back on before we go?" she asked gesturing to his abandoned boots.
Will gave her a perplexed look before remembering that he was barefoot. "Are you sure you don't want to wear them? Your shoes seem to be missing too," he pointed out - the cocked eyebrow, sly grin and sparkle of mischief in his eyes reminding her of a time when she had worn his boots.
"I know where they are, I'll get them!" William offered as he scampered off.
"Will!" Elizabeth exclaimed to her husband with mock annoyance as she offered him a hand to get back up.
Will's grin grew wider as he stood up and dusted himself off. He took Elizabeth's hand in his, gave her a quick kiss on the forehead, and headed to the nearest dry spot he could find, to sit and put his boots back on. Once everyone's footwear was back where it belonged, Will shrugged off his coat, slung it over one arm, put his arm around his wife's waist and began following their self-declared leader towards the trail that would eventually lead them home.
Back out at sea, James Norrington stopped rowing for a few minutes as he watched Will, Elizabeth and their son leave the beach. Will had never once looked back at the ship that had been his home – his prison for so many years. Elizabeth and the boy never took notice of the lone sailor in the longboat. There was really no reason for them to do so either.
James sighed heavily and resumed rowing back to the Dutchman. He had been granted his one last look at Elizabeth and had once again seen what he had always known – she truly loved Will Turner. In some small way it made him feel as if his own sacrifice had been worth while – even if she would never come to realize it. Jack Sparrow may have escaped his grasp, and was still free to practice his own unique brand of piracy though out the Caribbean, but James could let go of that too now. What was important was that he had atoned for what he had done to Elizabeth and Will, by assuring himself that Will was at the appointed place, at the appointed time and safely delivered back to where he belonged. That Turner knew, understood, and had expressed his gratitude had not been what he sought or required, but it had supplied that one last piece to his puzzle. That was all James needed to be at peace once and for all.
Author's note:
This still isn't the end. ;-)