A vague sense of where she was began to sink into Elizabeth's conscious, as she clung tighter to Will. An overwhelming feeling of exhaustion clouded her thinking. I remember leaving the Pearl. I remember Will teasing me about playing pirates. She sighed heavily, tilting her face, eyes tightly closed, up to Will's. The faintest of smiles formed on her lips, as she felt him lean in to touch his forehead to hers in a gesture that was both familiar and comforting. She slowly became aware that he stopped stoking her back and allowed his hands to settle at her waist. Hesitantly, she opened her eyes to gaze at Will's face. His eyes were tightly closed, framed by his long eyelashes. The strain of what they had been through and what they had yet to face was clear in his tense expression. Gently caressing his face with her fingertips, Elizabeth was rewarded with a faint smile. She sighed tenderly at the touch of his hand rising to cover hers, yet he still kept his eyes shut.
"You have to be very tired. When was the last time you slept?"
Elizabeth startled ever so slightly at the unexpected question. "I don't know. It feels like days – it has been days," she answered, sagging further into his arms. "I think I could sleep for a week." Elizabeth noticed Will's smile flicker in amusement as his eyes opened, and stared deep into hers. It was impossible for her not to be drawn into his gaze. She would have happily stayed lost there, had circumstances allowed for such a thing. Will broke off the gaze, raised his head and pressed his lips to her forehead in a kiss that was not so much a show of affection, but more of a gesture of reassurance.
"Perhaps you would feel better if you rested for a while?"
"But…"
"But?" The briefest flash of sorrow tempered with pain crossed face with the sudden realization as to the nature of Elizabeth's concerned 'but.' "I'll still be here when you wake up. I won't leave you," he murmured dolefully, trying to cover the desolation in his own voice.
"Yet," she sadly pointed out.
"Shhh," he murmured, putting his fingers to her lips. "We don't have to face that right now."
Elizabeth offered an almost imperceptible nod of her head, steering their conversation away from the eventuality that they had no choice but to face. "I am tired."
"Then it's settled. You'll try to get some sleep and I'll take care of everything else."
Elizabeth looked him straight in the eyes, raised an eyebrow and gave him the briefest of smiles. "Done."
"Done." His eyes sparkled with amusement, answering her.
Elizabeth reluctantly pulled herself away from Will, turning to retrieve the lone blanket they had been given. She turned a complete circle, surveying the ring of stones, trying to decide the most suitable place to spread out her makeshift bed. She eventually decided on a small alcove formed by the rocks, towards the island side of the circle. The space was a bit narrow, but still plenty wide enough for two people - especially for two people who intended to sleep close together. Given the rather insubstantial size of the well worn, moth eaten and seriously scratchy blanket, it might very well not have mattered which two people were using it – the options were share or do without.
An unanticipated feeling of anxiety welled up in her as she flipped open the blanket and spread it over the sugary white sand. She frowned and chewed her lip, puzzling over her inexplicable apprehension over sleeping with Will. He was her husband now. It was what she had wanted before she had even understood what her feelings for him meant. It was their wedding night. And it was quite possibly their last chance to be together for years - perhaps even eternity.
Will quietly watched Elizabeth while she worked. He noticed the slight tremor in her shoulders as she smoothed the rough material over the sand. He recognized the subconscious gesture immediately – for she only did that when she was nervous. He knew that if he could see her face she would be chewing on her lower lip. It was what she always did when she was unsure of what to do next.
"Will? Would you mind sitting with me until I fall asleep?" Her voice was soft, but trembled slightly. She still stood with her back to him.
"Of course. Whatever you ask, whatever you want, I'll do what I can to make sure you have it."
Elizabeth turned around, sat down on the edge of the blanket and smiled at Will.
"I want you." This time her voice was clear and strong.
Will crossed to where she sat and eased himself down beside her.
"You have me," he pointed out.
"Not yet I haven't, but I shall," she said teasingly, glancing sideways at him through lowered lashes.
"As you wish," he replied, putting one hand on her neck, leaning in and kissing her temple. "But you're going to have to wait a bit longer. Now try to get some sleep."
Elizabeth stretched out on her right side and rested her head in Will's lap. She felt him weaving his fingers through her hair. Had she not been so very tired she might just have balked at being told she still had to wait to celebrate their marriage, but the truth was that Will was right - she did need some sleep and she needed it now.
Will contented himself with stroking her dark blonde locks and running the silky strands through his fingers. It would have to suffice for now, but later – later they would have time for more. Will leaned back against a rock, closed his eyes and had nearly drifted off to sleep himself when she spoke.
"I love you."
Will smiled to himself. "I love you, too," he responded, his voice tinged with the desire he felt for her. He knew that Elizabeth never said anything she didn't mean and that she believed actions spoke louder than words. Because of that, she didn't say that precious trio of words anywhere near as often as he did, but he had no doubt about how she felt. He still felt some vestige of the guilt he had felt at ever having faltered in what he believed about her feelings towards him. She loved him and only him. That was the way it always had been and always would be. Hadn't he always known that to some degree? Would things have worked out differently for us had I not been so stubborn?
Elizabeth's breathing slowed and the tension flowed from her body. Will continued to hold her for several more minutes, before carefully slipping out from under her and gently lowering her head to the sand. She stirred briefly and moved her own hands to where she could rest her cheek on them in pillow- like fashion.
It was fully dark by now, but Will could still see quite clearly. If he could still walk, talk, breath, feel, or whatever without a heart, then it wasn't that much of a stretch to accept that he would perhaps undergo other physical changes. Improved night vision would be a logical thing to have, given the duties he would now be responsible for. It wasn't like people would be so kind as to only drown during daylight hours. However, he was afraid – very afraid. What other changes would he experience? Would they be permanent or would he revert back to his mortal self once he completed his task and returned to Elizabeth? And what of his heart? Was there a way to return it to its rightful place, or would it forever remain inside the Dead Man's Chest?
Will banished his concerns from his mind, busied himself neatly stacking the wood they had collected, and starting a small fire using the tinder box he always carried in his pocket – once a blacksmith, always a blacksmith… He might have been able to function quite ably in the dark, but Elizabeth could not. He gathered up both pairs of abandoned boots and lined them up near the stone alcove where they planned to spend the night. The two bundles that had been in the long boat were dragged to the fire in preparation for examination of their contents. There really wasn't much that he could do at the moment. He supposed he could go look for fresh water or food, but he could not bring himself to leave Elizabeth. What if she woke up while he was gone? He had promised her he would be there when she woke up, and be there he would. He looked over to where she slept and, as always, marveled at how young she looked, how beautiful she was, and the fact that she was, against all odds, his wife.
He turned away, took a few steps, sat down cross legged beside the fire and stared into the flames. Fire was something he understood. It was - had been - an essential tool of his trade. Now the heat from the blaze made his exposed skin feel warm and tight – almost like there wasn't enough of it to cover his bones. It was a sensation he hadn't experienced in quite some time – not since a few days before Beckett and the Company came to Port Royal. It made him realize exactly how much he missed his old life. Gone were the days when his greatest worry had been how to support a wife and possibly children on the pittance he earned from his labors, only to have those worries be replaced by something far more terrifying. How would he be able to leave Elizabeth behind, not knowing what would become of her? Given the choice, he would go right back to being a blacksmith. He missed the work. The sound of his tools striking the red hot iron on the anvil; the smell of the molten iron, the hiss of the beaten metal when he plunged it into the water to temper it; watching something useful and durable take shape from what had previously been a nondescript chunk of rock and knowing that his skill was what made that possible…
Will opted to open the larger of the two parcels first. There was no way to tell who had packed it, nor any way to guess what it contained. The rough burlap sack had been used hard and had the holes to show for it. It was covered with dark stains that Will thought best not to contemplate for too long. The neck was tied with a length of hemp line – too long to toss away and yet too short to be readily useful. Will smirked as he considered the neatly tied bowline knot holding the bag closed and remembered long hours aboard one ship or another practicing tying, untying and retying various knots. He had known them all when he was younger, but until Jack had come into his life he'd had little use for many of them. Jack had been adamant about Will relearning what he had once known. Ship's knots were one of the few things the eccentric Pirate Lord of the Caribbean was meticulous about – unlike his sense of personal hygiene. Jack had to have tied this particular one - it was picture perfect.
The rope slipped easily from the bag as soon as Will tugged at it, revealing its hidden contents. . Upon Will's first, cursory examination, the bag appeared to contain random utensils and foodstuffs - the degree of usefulness of anything inside was yet to be determined. Will gingerly stuck his hand into the bag and started removing things. First, came a packet of the ubiquitous hard tack that he had come to dread, followed by several strips of dried meat – although what kind of meat was another thing Will preferred to not contemplate too much. His hand next closed over something smooth, roundish and more firm than soft. He laughed quietly, extracting the first of a dozen shiny, green apples – a gift, no doubt, from the cantankerous Captain Barbossa. Further inspection revealed a familiar onion shaped bottle of rum, what appeared to be a bottle of wine, but may very well also have been rum, two pewter goblets, a plain, ordinary compass (much to his relief), another tinder box, a knife much like the one Bootstrap had given him (for Elizabeth, perhaps?), and a small leather bag containing a meager collection of coins - mostly silver with a few gold ones scattered amongst them.
Will spread the bag on the sand a safe distance from the fire and arranged the curious assortment on it, before turning his attention to the second parcel. This one had not been assembled with quite the haste of the first – its wrapping attested to that. The mostly square package had been neatly covered with oilcloth and then tied with a narrow leather cord, much like the leather on Will's own necklace. Again, the knot was tied with Jack's trademark precision and skill – only this time some clumsy attempt had been made at a bow, giving the whole thing a look more like a gift than another bundle of supplies. As with the first parcel, the bow and knot came apart easily with a single tug of the proper cord. Will carefully and curiously pulled back the edges of the cloth to see what was inside.
The folded fabric inside was dark – very dark. Even turning it to the light could not help Will to discern if it was black or intensely dark green, perhaps even blue. He touched it lightly with his fingers in an attempt to decide exactly what it was. The material had that odd simultaneously soft and rough texture of silk. It felt as if it were both incredibly fragile and durable all at the same time. Peeking from under one edge was the tiniest strip of ivory colored paper. Will slipped it from its hiding place. It wasn't just a sheet of paper, but an elegant parchment envelope – and it was addressed to Elizabeth Turner. That was it – just Elizabeth Turner. No Mrs., no Captain, no other title, no anything. Will smiled as he traced his fingers over the name – his name, now hers too - before turning the envelope over. He immediately noticed that the wax holding it shut lacked a seal. There was no way of determining who had written the note without opening it. Had Elizabeth not been so tired, he might have asked her to open it right away for no reason other than to slake his own curiosity. Mr. Gibbs dropped this bundle into the longboat, but he doesn't seem the type to use sealing wax. Could it be from Jack? Barbossa maybe? No one else aboard the Pearl can read or write, can they?
Will carefully rewrapped the package, retied the cord, and set it aside, but not before, once more, tracing one finger tenderly over the name on the envelope. Elizabeth Turner – he hadn't exactly had time to stop and consider that she would share his name now, just like she had always shared his hopes and dreams, now she would share his fate and destiny, but not his life. The realization that she faced a far more difficult road than he did stung him again - but what could he do? He was confident that he knew her well enough to know her answer if he offered her freedom – that she had already made her choice and whatever they were to face, it would be together, even if by together she really meant apart.
He leaned against a nearby rock and continued to alternately watch the flames and Elizabeth – hoping that she would soon show even the most minute sign of waking up. They had so much left to talk about and so little time to spend together. If just waiting an hour or so for her to wake up from a nap was this tedious, how was he going to survive ten years? He pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapped his arms around his legs and rested his chin on them, as he continued to stare at the flames, and contemplated the number of times his life had completely switched courses. He also weighed his intense desire that there would be at least one more major change in store for him – a change that would take a decade to exact.
Elizabeth woke with a start – uncertain of her surroundings and frightened, as the memories of what had transpired the past few days came flooding back. She remembered Will dying in her arms and yet she could see him seated not more than a few yards away, in the ever familiar pose he had struck whenever something was bothering him and he needed to think. She propped herself up on one arm and quietly watched him for a few moments – admiring how the firelight illuminated his chiseled features, how the fabric of his shirt strained across his muscular back and shoulders, and how peaceful he looked.
She stood up and brushed the sand from her clothing as best she could – blanket or not, it was impossible to keep it from infiltrating everything. Will still had not looked up as she slowly walked towards him. She knew she wanted to – needed to say something to him, but had no idea what. Although they were quite adept at reading each other's actions and understanding each other's unspoken wishes, desires and feelings, there were times that words were required. But they escaped her now that she needed them the most.
Will sensed her movement rather than heard her – it had always been like that for them. It was one of the things he feared they might lose during his absence, but along with everything else, he again pushed his concerns aside. He lifted his chin from his knees and turned his head towards Elizabeth. A smile he could not have contained had he tried spread across his face, to be matched with an equally joyous one on hers. Elizabeth continued her slow approach towards where Will still sat motionless by the fire. Upon reaching him, she held out her hand in invitation. Neither one of them spoke, but kept their eyes locked on each other. Will took her hand in his and stood up, noting as he did how rough it was. When did that happen? Has it really been so long since we just held hands that I haven't noticed the change?
"Walk with me," she said softly, beginning to back away from the fire.
"It's dark," Will replied, twining his fingers among hers and followed her without hesitation.
"There's a full moon. We won't go so far that we can't see the fire. If you get scared, I can protect you."
Will laughed. "Will you now?"
"I'm the Pirate King, remember? I have hundreds, nay, thousands of pirates at my beck and call. They shall unerringly do my bidding no matter what I ask," she declared – her playful mood evident in her tone.
"How sure are you of that? I've heard tell that pirates are a rather unreliable lot. And who will protect me from your wrath?"
"I don't think it's my wrath you need to be concerned with," she teasingly chided him.
"And exactly what do I need to be concerned with?"
"I haven't actually decided that yet. It's one of my rights as duly elected sovereign of the Brethren Court," she said airily, dismissing mob of imaginary retainers with her free hand.
Will laughed again. "As you wish, your Majesty. Your wish is my command. That is what I'm supposed to say, isn't it?"
"I suppose it will do – provided I don't change my mind, which again, is my right."
"I've missed this," Will said, quietly, lifting her hand to his lips and kissing the back of it.
"Missed what? Having me tell you what to do? Very well, I shall endeavor to grant your wish." Elizabeth made no effort to lower her hand, but kept her eyes focused on Will's mouth, as she unconsciously licked her own lips.
"No. I've missed joking with you like this, spending time with you, talking to you." He wanted very much to kiss her, but something held him back – it wasn't quite right, not now, not yet.
"I missed you too. I never meant to push you away," she said, her voice suddenly turning serious.
Will put one finger of his free hand against his lips. "Shh, we agreed. It was nothing but a misunderstanding. It's over now and we don't need to dwell on it, but perhaps resolve to not let it to happen again."
Elizabeth nodded in agreement, then smiled at her husband again. "I've always wanted to do this with you."
"Be stranded on an island? Whatever for?" Elizabeth could tell he was teasing, but Will managed to make himself sound deadly serious.
"Not that part. Although I am known for being able to build quite the signal fire," she pronounced airily.
"Going for a walk? We've done that before." Will was beginning to wonder where this conversation, along with their path, was leading as they got further and further away from their camp.
"Not on the beach, in the moonlight, we haven't. Father would never have allowed such a thing – no matter how many chaperones we had. I don't think he quite trusted you in that respect," she said coyly.
"I don't think I was the one he needed to worry about."
"No," she answered, sidling up closer to him, "but can you imagine his reaction had anyone pointed that out to him?"
"I think I wouldn't have been allowed to see you until after the wedding- and maybe not even then."
"He could be a bit overprotective at times."
"But he loved you. That's what matters the most."
"He weathered quite a bit of criticism for overindulging me too."
"Am I expected to do the same?" Will asked only halfway joking.
"No, I think that's more of a fathers and daughters dynamic. Maybe one day you'll understand what that means." Elizabeth said with a dramatic sigh, casting a quick glance over to see what, if any, reaction Will might have to her statement. But had either missed what she was implying or had chosen to ignore her. "I'm not that same spoiled girl I was then."
"No. You're the Pirate King."
"I'm being serious, Will," she mock pouted, turning to face him.
"I apologize. And you're right, you're not the same. He was proud of you and would be prouder still to see you now."
"Would he?" she asked, taking Will's other hand and started taking steps backwards towards the water and the outgoing tide. "I miss him."
"I know you do. I still miss my mother." Will kept following Elizabeth, leading him towards a destination that only she knew.
"You'll still have your father on the ship won't you? Or will he choose to move on. Can he move on?"
Will shrugged his shoulders. "He said he would stay. I honestly hardly know him and I never once imagined that getting to know him would be under these circumstances."
"But you'll have someone, right?" They had reached the water now. Elizabeth kept Will's hands enclosed in hers, but stepped up as close to him as possible.
"I suppose. What are you getting at?" She was so close now that Will could feel the warmth of her body and smell the salt water that had dried in her hair. His mind was starting to wander in a completely different direction.
Elizabeth narrowed her eyes briefly at Will, looking him straight in the face, but not saying anything. Her mind, however, was awhirl. How could he not understand what she was getting at? She knew she was being vague – very vague, but she had lost quite a bit of her boldness somewhere along the way. She couldn't bring herself to point outright to him that they were married now, it was supposed to be their wedding night and he would be leaving her before this time tomorrow. A short lived blaze of panic coursed through her as she considered that he might tell her they still had to wait. Surely not? She felt her cheeks burn, wondering if the problem wasn't so much that he wouldn't as he couldn't. If something didn't change soon, she was just going to have to swallow her pride and start making demands. An involuntary giggle escaped her lips, as she imagined proclaiming that as one of her rights as Pirate King.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, just a random thought," she said, dropping Will's hands and starting to back away from him slowly. Will started to follow, but she quickly put up a hand to stop him – smiling seductively at him in the moonlight as she did so. "Do you think my father would approve that we're properly married now?"
"I'm not so sure he would agree with the properly part. I would imagine he would most likely be appalled at the when, where and how of it." Will continued to curiously watch his wife's slow, backwards progress away from him, trying to concentrate on the conversation and not other, more intriguing avenues of thought.
"But we're legally married, are we not?" More steps further away. Smile still in place.
"Yet another good question. A ship's captain is as good as a priest given the circumstances, but I'm not sure of the ruling on a formerly cursed, undead, resurrected, pirate captain as the one in charge. Besides, it's not like he did much of anything anyway." The words were coming out of his mouth, but Will was far more interested in watching the gentle sway of Elizabeth's hips as she continued her odd journey in reverse. His hands literally ached to touch her.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes in false annoyance. "Did we meet any of the requirements set forth to qualify us for wedded bliss?"
"Eagerly."
"Pardon?"
"I said 'eagerly.' I married you eagerly. As for the other, who is there to argue the point? We were on a ship; there was certainly no shortage of captains; there were witnesses – even if we did send more than a few on to their greater reward, or not, as the case may be." Will stopped to think for a second. "I suppose that means I would have to say that yes, we are a rightfully and legally husband and wife." Will noticed that Elizabeth stopped moving as he spoke, and that her expression changed somehow. Was it possible for her to appear more mischievous than she did already?
"And that," she said using her finger to make a zig zag gesture in the general direction of his scar, "that has no bearing on things?"
Will self consciously touched the wound on his chest. "No, should it?"
"I'm your wife, not your widow?" She stood with her arms akimbo.
"Yes," Will was beginning to falter, his mind wandering between worry and confusion.
"That settles it then," Elizabeth proclaimed, her voice suddenly strong and clear.
"Settles what? I'm afraid you have me at a loss." Confusion was rapidly overtaking worry, but still floundered far behind where his mind had been previously wandering.
"I've waited for you for what feels like forever. I'm not waiting any longer." The words had no sooner left her mouth than she started to run diagonally away from the water back towards the camp.
