(OT: This is all Will. The next will be all Elizabeth's P.O.V. I decided that in this one and the next, I wanted to include certain points that I created. I'm not sure about the upcoming chapters, although I do know Will and Bootstrap will have a conversation about Mrs.Turner and Elizabeth (after all, in the third movie, Bootstrap did say that Will spoke of Elizabeth). I also think it will strengthen their relationship in my eyes. Anywho, enjoy and the next chapters will hopefully be posted soon!)
Will's arms draped across his knees, exhausted from the winding journey. He dipped one hand in the murky river and slathered the droplets on his neck, refreshed by the cool temperature. He considered removing his black leather jacket that clung to his skin, but thought better of his narrow confinement. He glanced to Gibbs as the path thickened, the elderly trees reaching for their heads and the twisted roots screeching for the distant fresh water. The man squinted as the surroundings became darker, and when he gazed into the forest, flashes of yellow eyes appeared. They were clearly illuminated by lanterns, and they seemed to slither in rhythm with the longboat's movement.
Will then stared at the proud navy-blue coated captain whose foot was propped up on the bow of the boat. His shoulders were rolled back, his body was completely erect, and his colorful beads glittered in the secreted light. Shooing a cluster of flies with the wave of his hand, Will leaned forward at a revelation. Jack did not wear his weathered leather tricorne hat. The captain... Without his hat? Something was definitely and terribly amiss. Sparrow apparently sensed Will's perpetual gaze, for his head swiveled around curiously. The man's eyes darted from side-to-side, his lips twitched in furious agitation, and he wiped his hand down his frayed whiskers before spinning back around. Will straightened up and he suddenly recollected Jack's odd inquiry.
"How much do you know about Davy Jones?" He had asked ever so cautiously, displaying the drawing of the key.
"Not much." Will had replied, shrugging his shoulders at the notion.
Not much!
Now he was wary. At that moment, William had only thought of his beloved, his Elizabeth, who was imprisoned by Lord Beckett. He needed to save his damsel and then wed her! Now he knew how foolish he was to disregard the weight of Jack Sparrow's words. There was always a submerged message bloating behind his speech, but he was too absorbed in rescuing Elizabeth. Will cursed himself and the pirate captain; he was once again surpassed by his naivety. Ah! And now, where was Jack leading him? Was he already too deep to crawl from the abyss of Jack Sparrow's schemes? Oh yes, Mr. Turner thought as he glanced at his fellow mates and the peculiar forest, he was in far far too deep.
Will turned to Gibbs, realizing the value of his stories, and asked in a low rumble, "Who exactly are we visiting?"
"Tia Dalma."
It was the shortest response he had ever received from the first mate. "And what are Jack's relations to her?"
"Not much is known about the sea-witch by my 'count. Jack met 'er when he first had the Pearl raised from the depths."
No story? No estranged version of Jack's confessions? He immediately pursued the topic. "Sea witch... You mean sorcery?"
"She knows the way of the sailors and their travels..." Gibbs nervously yanked the leather canteen off his belt and swigged a few drinks, his own eyes busily sliding from one corner to the next.
Will allowed his eyes to rest on Pintel, waiting to see if he was aware of more legends about the woman. The bald pirate shrugged, and as Will nudged the former boatswain a second time, Mr. Gibb's eyes abruptly divulged with discretion. He clearly did not wish to speak of the woman any further. For a few minutes, the crew observed their new surroundings as African men and women who congregated on the banks of the river, others dangling in trees with their unwavering eyes solely on the captain.
"And these people? Does Jack know them?"
Mr. Gibbs brightened; Will could tell the reliable man could easily respond with a sufficient story. "Ya see, Will, thirteen years ago Jack broke his alliance with society when he freed African slaves from Beckett's lot." Will's eyes widened. "He managed to transport the natives to cover before the lord could snatch them into slavery, but soon afterwards, he lost the Wicked Wench to the very same man."
This unfamiliar title had a foreboding mood as he inquired, "The Wicked Wench?"
Gibbs nodded as he swigged yet another drink. "Aye, the Black Pearl's name... Before it was lugged out of the depths."
Will eyed the spectators, listening to their hissing admiration of the pirate. There was clearly more to the story, but Tia Dalma's rickety shack, which was barely above sea-level, came into view, subduing the chatter. So Jack rescued them. Perhaps this was a cause worth fighting for...Especially if it saved Elizabeth.
"And..." he trailed off, fromed the inquiry a second time in his mind and asked, "Why is Jack afraid of the open ocean?"