Chapter 13

~Seven Months Later~

Will stared at the ornate door in front of him, willing himself to knock, to ring the bell, to do something. But he didn't move.

This is nuts, Turner, he thought, shaking his head. I mean, this is absolutely crazy. What the hell am I doing here? He glanced over his shoulder at his motorcycle, sitting in the drive behind him. Probably shouldn't have ridden the bike. He sighed, running his fingers through his hair in agitation. Dammit, just knock already!

It seemed ridiculous to simply walk up to such an enormous house and knock on the door, but he did it anyway, half hoping that no one would hear.

The door started to open.

Damn.

A butler stood in the doorway, prim and proper, looking just as surprised to see a boy in motorcycle gear as said boy was to see a butler.

Will's already scattered mind went utterly blank. A butler? He has a butler?

Recovering from his initial surprise, the man now regarded Will stoically. "May I help you, sir?"

"I – I was hoping I could see, uh, Mr. Swann…" Will said hesitantly.

"Do you have an appointment, sir?"

You need an appointment just to get into the bloody house? "N-no…"

"Then I'm terribly sorry, but I'm afraid I can't help you, sir…" He started to close the door.

Let it close, don't say anything, just let it close – "I've been dating his daughter for two and a half years!"

Damn it!

The door halted, then slowly swung open again. The butler stood there, blinking mildly at him. Will had the distinct impression that the man was subtly sizing him up.

"I see." Finally, he stood aside, gesturing for Will to come in. "If you would wait here for a moment, sir…" He vanished through a small side door, leaving Will alone in a mind-bogglingly enormous front hall.

Trying not to look at the expensive artwork that covered seemingly every inch of the walls, Will attempted to occupy himself by examining the architecture. The crystal chandelier hanging directly above his head was very distracting, however, as its entire purpose in life seemed to be to defy the law of gravity, as well as whatever other laws of physics struck its fancy. He was so busy staring at it that he didn't even notice that the butler had returned until the man cleared his throat perfunctorily.

"Follow me, if you would please, sir." Without another word, he led Will across the entrance hall, through a different door, up a flight of stairs, and down a long hallway to another door, which he knocked on lightly.

A voice from inside said, "Come in."

The butler opened the door, and, as soon as Will had stepped through, closed it behind him with a snap.

Will found himself in what he assumed to be a study, but one that more closely resembled a public library. The walls were lined with bookshelves, rows upon rows of them, that stretched from the floor all the way to the lofty ceiling above. There was even a sort of ladder on wheels of a kind that Will, until that moment, had believed only existed in movies, for reaching books near the top. Directly across from him at the opposite side of the room was an ornate wooden desk, naturally lit by the enormous bay window that took up most of the wall behind it. Will felt uncomfortably small by the time he finally settled his gaze on the man sitting behind the desk.

Elizabeth's father had short, neatly combed grey hair, and a stern, lined face. He was wearing a crisp, white dress shirt. Will could see the light from the window glinting off of expensive-looking cufflinks. The overall effect was to make him instantly regret his own attire even more than he had previously. There was no place in this house for jeans, boots, and a leather jacket – even if it was a nice one.

Mr. Swann was watching him sternly, his hands folded and resting on the desktop in front of him.

"You must be the William Turner I've heard so much about."

Will cleared his throat nervously. "Yes, sir."

Mr. Swann gestured to a chair in front of the desk across from him, indicating that Will should sit. Will moved slowly toward it and perched nervously on the edge, trying to inconspicuously wipe his sweaty palms on his jeans as he did so.

Mr. Swann eyed him curiously. "I must admit, I was wondering if I would ever meet the man who stole my daughter's heart."

Will couldn't think of anything to say, so he settled for nodding silently.

"I trust that you came here for a specific reason," Mr. Swann prompted him.

Will nodded again, suddenly forgetting the exact reason why he was sitting so uncomfortably in this room.

Mr. Swann's gaze softened ever so slightly, an amused smile tugging at his lips. "I don't know what Elizabeth's told you, but I won't hurt you, boy."

Will swallowed hard. "I – " He fidgeted slightly. "I wanted to ask your permission to – to propose to your daughter. Sir," he added hastily.

Mr. Swann stared hard at him for a long moment. Will silently began to pray that the earth would swallow him where he sat.

At long last, Mr. Swann said quietly, "You want to marry my daughter."

It wasn't a question, but Will answered anyway. "Y-yes, sir."

"Why?"

Will was taken aback. "Because I love her."

And again, Mr. Swann asked simply, "Why?"

Will frowned. Is he asking why I love Elizabeth? "Because… she's amazing. She's the most incredible woman I've ever known, and I want to spend the rest of my life with her." He took a deep breath. "I want to take care of her when she's sick, and hold her when she cries, and laugh with her when she's happy. I want to be there for her when she needs help, because she deserves someone who'll do that, and I can't imagine it being anyone but me. And I want to surprise her with pancakes with peanut butter and bananas on her birthday, because she loves pancakes with peanut butter and bananas." He hadn't actually meant to say so much, but he was on a roll now so he continued. "And also, I want her to be able to go to school and become an architect, because she wants that more than anything. Did you know that? It's her dream job, and I want her to have it." He suddenly faltered and lost steam. "And that's… that's why I want to marry your daughter. Sir," he added again.

Mr. Swann seemed to examine the shiny surface of his desk for several seconds. Finally, he looked up at Will.

"You'll take care of my little girl?"

Will's heart skipped a beat or two. Was that a yes?

He nodded earnestly. "Always."

Mr. Swann nodded slowly. "Then I suppose… you have my permission. On one condition, though: the two of you have to have dinner with me here sometime. I want to see both of you together and get to know you properly, Mr. Turner."

Will nodded again, struggling not to break out in a stupid grin. "Yes, sir."

Another faint smile crossed Mr. Swann's face as he watched the younger man's eyes light up. He glanced briefly at Will's hands, noticing the rough callouses there.

"Are you really a blacksmith?"

"Yes, sir. I have my own shop."

"What sorts of things can you make?"

Will shrugged. "Lots of things. I like to do swords, but I can do practically anything else made of solid metal."

"Door knockers?"

"Sure." Will tilted his head curiously. "Are – are you hiring me?"

"You may have noticed on your way in that there is a place on my door for a knocker, but there isn't currently one residing there."

"It broke?"

"Indeed."

Will smiled slightly. "I can fix that."

Mr. Swann smiled as well, glad to see that discussing business had put the boy more at ease. He wasn't sitting on the very edge of his chair anymore, at any rate.

"Good. I think I'll leave the design up to you, since you're the expert. I shall expect an update on your progress when you come for that dinner."

"Yes, sir."

Mr. Swann held out a hand, which Will shook briefly. "You may go now, Mr. Turner."

Will nodded yet again and hastily made his way toward the door. He had just reached it when Mr. Swann called to him again.

"One last question, Mr. Turner… If I had said no, would you still have proposed to her?"

Will hesitated for a moment. "Yes," he admitted.

Mr. Swann looked strangely pleased. "Good day, Mr. Turner."

Too flustered to answer, Will ducked quickly out of the study. Once he was safely outside, he leaned against the closed door, breathing a sigh of relief. Then the butler emerged suddenly from a door nearby.

"If you would like to follow me out, sir…" He walked away.

Will trailed after him, wondering where exactly it was that the man kept appearing from. Outside, he paused on the front steps as the butler closed the door, then turned to examine the spot where a knocker should have been. He smiled, pleased.

"Oh, yeah. I can fix that."

Still grinning, he jogged down the steps and swung onto his bike, the engine roaring loudly as he rode away.

Jack watched as his best friend walked into the Black Pearl, grinning like a maniac.

"What're you so excited abou'?"

Will slid onto a barstool. "I just met Elizabeth's father."

"By yerself?"

Will raised an eyebrow and made a show of looking around to see if anyone else was present. "Obviously."

"Then why th' 'ell are yeh so happy? We all assumed 'e was gonna swallow yeh whole an' spit out yer bones."

"That's nice, Jack, thanks," Will said sarcastically. Then his irrepressible smile returned. "He gave me permission to ask Elizabeth to marry me."

Jack shook his head. "Yer an idiot."

"Why?"

"Fer wantin' t' get married!"

Will rolled his eyes. "You know I'm not like you, Jack. We might be best friends, but we're not the same. Not even close."

"Aye, I know tha', mate." Jack pretended to sigh resignedly. "So when're yeh gettin' th' ring, then?"

Will shrugged, frowning. "I don't know. That's sort of the problem, actually. I don't exactly have much money for one."

"Yeh jus' need t' make a big sale, is all. Find someone t' buy one o' those fancy swords you've 'ad hangin' on yer wall fer years an' years."

"Who?" Will asked helplessly. "Rich customers don't just appear out of nowhere, you know."

A voice spoke up from a table in the corner. "I might be interested in buying a sword, if you're selling."

Jack laughed. "Mate, 'e's always selling. 'e's a bloody blacksmith."

The man shrugged. "Fair enough. What have you got?"