I made James call Will "Mr. Turner" in the last chapter, and no one pointed out my mistake? I'm disappointed.

Anyway.

I love fencing. And thanks to it, I get to write some french in between.


Chapter 6: Living Enigma

The lieutenant had been looking at the sky and the stars, when he had heard someone walking towards him, intentionally or not. "Not" was more likely, James thought as he recognized Wilhem Carter, as Carter had done his best to keep away from him without actually looking suspicious about it. It made his efforts kind of pointless, but still, the Navy man had noticed because he himself had been trying to keep an eye on the blacksmith without actually looking suspicious about it either.

They'd call it a draw, since neither of them had been quite successful in their self-assigned tasks.

Anyway, James felt he had to say something, to talk and mend the broken bridge between them that had never even been there to begin with. He felt that they couldn't just go on like that, him suspecting Carter for no apparent reason, beside the fact that the blacksmith was a living enigma, and the lieutenant had difficulties staying away from enigmas, and Carter avoiding him as if he feared James was going to have him hanged for no particular motive as soon as they'd reach Port Royal.

And, yes, he was curious about this man. He couldn't see anything bad in his behavior, any hint that Wilhem Carter was not who he claimed to be, but still, there was something unnatural about him, and James was going to find out what.

And of course, he wasn't asking about the new star just out of boredom. The star had appeared out of nowhere, if the men's discussions and his own knowledge were anything to go by, and he wanted as many people as possible to tell him he wasn't crazy, and the star had not been there only a few days ago. Yes, he was obsessing about it. He knew it, and knowing it didn't make it any less true, so he'd just go on obsessing about a star as he was obsessing over Carter.

The blacksmith walked out of the shadows, into the light of a lantern. He looked quite reluctant to do so, and James had the feeling the young man was studying his face attentively, as if searching for something alarming.

Under the dim lights of the ship, the lieutenant thought Carter looked eerie, perhaps a bit spectral, but not in a bad way. Lights and shadows turned his handsome face into a mask of shades and sorrow. There was something otherwordly about him, as James watched him walk from the dark into the light, something sad and wise, and old, older than he seemed under the light of the sun.

"Which star, Lieutenant Norrigton?"

Will dared not pretend he knew nothing of the night skies, for he had let his knowledge slip to the sailors too often during the evenings aboard the Dauntless. If the commodore Norrington hadn't been known for his bonding with his crew and men, this James Norrington was only a lieutenant, and had to have heard about it at some point. And if the commodore had never been friends with the lowlier people, that hadn't meant he never listened to what was said on his ship and ignored the sailors and soldiers altogether.

Norrington turned in the direction of the very star that had appeared with his travel back in time, and that shone so brightly it'd be hardly believable if he pretended he didn't see it. Anyone with a little knowlegde of the night skies could tell it had never been there before.

And then there was this feeling he had, such a strange, disturbing feeling, each time he looked at the bright white spot. It was warm, and almost pulling him to itself, as if it held some secret part of him he was missing severely.

It definitely had something to do with him, with his return to the time of his youth.

The lieutenant's voice startled Will out of his considerations.

"According to the sailors, it simply came into existence the night before we found you. As impossible as it sounds, I must admit my memory tells me the same thing, and if it wasn't reliable enough, every single sky chart of mine agrees with me and the men."

And what was Will supposed to answer to that? It wasn't even a question!

And he could hardly say, out of the blue, and out of any sense of self-preservation, that its apparition surely had something to do with him being pulled back through time after the death of his wife at more than eighty years old. The lieutenant hadn't yet seen the cursed pirates, and he didn't believe in the occult for now. Time travel would lend Will in an asylum, and he certainly didn't look his true age. And if ever Norrington suddenly started believing in the supernatural, that wouldn't be any better, for the former captain of the Flying Dutchman would surely end up in an unpleasant situation, involving a not-of-the-friendly-kind bonfire, and maybe some torture.

"I don't know what to say, lieutenant. I have never before seen this star either."

Will should have backed away then, he knew it, but he didn't.

Instead, he walked to the lieutenant, though keeping a respectful distance, and rested his elbows on the rail. There, he started playing with his wedding ring, a gift from Barbossa and Jack after the battle with the East Indian Company. It was surely the only thing they had ever agreed on: undead captain sentenced to ten years at sea for one day ashore or not, William Turner wouldn't wed Elizabeth Swann on their ship, be it during a battle or not, and sail away without wedding rings.

James' eyes went to the golden band on Carter's finger, and frowned.

Definitely a wedding ring. And one of good quality. Wait, was it a band of Tiger Eye that was glinting on it? How come he hadn't seen that before? And more importantly, what was the blacksmith doing with it? He looked, what, twenty, twento-two at most, and was travelling alone, without a wife. He certainly couldn't afford a golden wedding ring with a gem on it, least of all two of these.

"Are you married, perhaps?"

The young man tensed at the question. His eyes traveled down to the ring as if seeing it for the first time, and he stopped fiddling with it right away. Maybe he hadn't realized he had been toying with it, turning it aroung his finger, this way, that way, there and back again.

The same as when his hand went to his sword without him knowing it, maybe.

There was a silence, that lost itself into the night.

James almost thought he wouldn't answer. It could mean many things. She could have left. Left him. Left this world. Eitherway. Both ways. If Carter didn't want to talk about it, the young lieutenant could understand.

Eventually, the silence broke down, and the blacksmith answered.

"I was."

But not I am.

"Elizabeth was sick."

Elizabeth.

Carter's wife was named Elizabeth.

"Is that why you left England?"

Will spared a quick glance at Norrington.

It wasn't really a lie. Elizabeth hadn't been ill, but she had been sick. Her sickness was the same as any mortal's: old age. Death. She had weakened, and died. It wasn't so different from being sick.

He hadn't realized he had given him her name, and the lieutenant hadn't reacted to the similarity between Miss Swann's name and the blacksmith's wife, because there was no reason for him to think about that. It wasn't as if the Navy man could have guessed the truth.

For now, the secret was safe.

"Yes."

No.

Perhaps.

More or less.

After all, if he hadn't truly left England, that is, not this time, though he had done so many decades before, Will had left one place and time and had ended up on the Dauntless following Elizabeth's death, and maybe, his grief.

Was it why he was back here, with his past? Was it because of his grief? Was it because he hadn't gone back to the Dutchman? Was it his punishment, to see his past unfold and led him to the exact same point of despair and hopelessness? Or... was it an opportunity to change his fate?

Will had no answer to these questions, but he realized he knew someone who might tell him. Well... Had known. Before. Now, he knew her, but she didn't know him. Yet. All the better, maybe. Though she might be able to tell at first glance. After all, she was a goddess. Locked in a human shell, sure. Would she know? She had only part of her powers, as a witch. Still, she was the one who had made Davy Jones what he was. So, technically, she was the one who had made Will what he was.

She'd know.

Or, at least, Will hoped Tia Dalma would know.

There were so many things he had to do, when he'd be off this ship...

First of all, he would stay in Port Royal for a time, and see if he could get something, even slightly, better for his younger self. Mr. Brown wasn't so bad, at first, but Will couldn't see a way to make sure he wouldn't become a drunk this time around. There had to be something he could do to help Will the younger's situation, though. There had to be.

Then he had to find funds.

Easy.

If he could get his hands on a boat, he'd sail away to Isla de Muerta. Even a dinghy would be fine, even if not very comfortable. He wasn't afraid of sinking, after all, and drowning would be a joke. Barbossa wasn't likely to share his treasure, but Will wasn't going to ask, and he wasn't planning to take much. Just enough to buy land in Tortuga, away from the town, and to build his own smithy there, because he couldn't do so in Port Royal, where everyone would know he was supposed to be penniless. Some tricks, here and there, and no one would dare to rob his place. He wasn't immortal and gifted with supernatural powers for nothing.

Maybe, buy a small ship, to sail from one place to another, to go back to Port Royal once in a while... He had a hunch he'd need one, once his other self would be old enough to get in trouble.

The lieutenant was watching the other man as he looked pointlessly into the dark of the night, and he wondered what he was thinking about. His wife? Their past? Or the future he hoped to build in the Caribbean?

But now Carter had nothing left to himself, to start again. The Eleanor's Jewel had sunk with the blacksmith's furniture. What was he going to do, with a sword too expensive to be bought by just anyone, and a wedding ring he surely wouldn't want to part with?

"What do you plan to do in Port Royal, Mr. Carter? You have nothing left."

But unlike what James had thought he'd do, the young man only smiled.

"I don't have any money left, true, but that does not mean I have no valuables with me, lieutenant Norrigton. I had already crossed path with pirates when Barbossa came after the Jewel. Unlucky encounters, if I must say, and before you assume anything. But I learned from my misadventures, and let's say that once they had searched me, they forgot they weren't the only one able to take what wasn't their. It is not much, but..."

James was astounded by what he had been told, and by what he then saw.

Out of Carter's left sleeve, three diamonds fell into his open right hand.

"Do you realize I have to take them?"

Will smiled again. Of course, the lieutenant couldn't let him keep them. They were stolen goods, and, if their rightful owner couldn't be found, they were the crown's. He handed the diamonds to the Navy man.

"I know. But it's not because I say I have only three that I don't have six of those stones. I have two sleeves, after all. And it's not because I say I have another sleeve that I don't know of other places to hide the only fortune I have, so you'd better take those diamonds, lieutenant, and pretend I never suggested I had others, for you won't be able to find them. That is, if I even have others."

Stupefied, Norrington eyed Will strangely, as if he was now seeing another side of the man, a side he had never seen before, and had been far from suspecting its existence.

Of course, the diamonds hadn't come from the Black Pearl, since Will hadn't really been on said ship, not since the battle with the East Indian Company, and not for another eight years if history was to repeat itself. Needless to say, he hoped he could prevent the part during which his past self would be locked in the brig. Or even the part where the Pearl raided Port Royal. Anyway, as the captain of the Flying Dutchman, Will had had access to many treasures, and had had those six diamonds with him, for some reason he didn't remember, when he had been whirled back in time.

If the commodore hadn't asked, excuse him, if the lieutenant hadn't asked, Will would have said nothing. But Norrington had asked, and the former captain had answered, as truthfully as he could. That is, not much.

Will hoped that, despite the lieutenant's love for rules, this would go smoothly. The commodore had been stern back then, but he had let go of Elizabeth for him, when he had understood she would never love him. After that, he had once again freed Elizabeth, and from a situation that was way more terrible than a loveless marriage, and it had cost him his life. The commodore had done that, not only because he still loved the young woman, but also because he had seen what Beckett was doing with the heart he had given him. He had seen the dead, and not only pirates, but children, women who had no other choice than to live amongst thieves and dangerous men, and who had all been hanged as if they had chosen this life.

Will liked to believe that under James Norrington's beliefs in the crown and in the law, there was something more. He liked to believe that if the lieutenant, captain, commodore Norrington had stuck to the law this forcefully, it wasn't because it was the law, but because it was supposed to make the world a better place. The young man hoped there was something great in Norrington, something other than stiffness, and that, maybe, he'd get to spare him the year of shame in Tortuga, and the untimely death under Beckett's ruling.

And to his relief, the lieutenant pocketed the gems, and said nothing about these anymore. How was he going to explain their apparition to the captain the following day, he wasn't sure, but Norrington would figure it out. After all, it was the man who, in his timeline, had gotten away from explaining that he and his men had fought a crew of undead pirates.

James sighed, and his eyes feel on the hilt of Carter's sword.

"You don't ever leave it behind you, do you?"

The young man followed the lieutenant's gaze, and he winced as he remembered for who exactly he had made this sword, years ago. His own eyes traveled to the Navy man's own sword.

"Do you?"

"Rarely. But I am a military man, and you are a blacksmith. I hope you don't fear one of the men will rob you of it."

"No, but I was only a boy when my first encounter with a pirate occurred. I might have become a blacksmith, I still spent hours training, everyday, alone, not far from my master's forge, because I couldn't bear the idea that I would be so helpless ever again."

Hours? James liked the sound of that.

He looked around. The crew was doing its job well enough, and he hadn't got many opportunities to train or fight since their departure from England. Their journey so far had been quiet, made remarkable only by the two Wills they had rescued and the sinking ship they had both come from.

James looked back at Carter, and wondered...

"Would you let me witness the result of your training?"

He really only wanted to have some useful fun. Right, maybe he was eager to fight the blacksmith. Why, he couldn't say, but James felt he wanted to know a lot about this young man, and damn, he was going to find out everything he could during what was left of their journey to Port Royal.

"Why not? By the rules, I assume?"

"By the rules."

Carter smirked, and James felt he might have made a mistake by challenging this unbelievable man. He ignored the feeling, because he really only wanted a sparring partner, and not to ridicule the blacksmith for having suggested he could hold his own against a soldier of the king, as some would have done. Even if he were to lose, it wasn't an issue to him.

As they fought, the sailors raised their head from their work, and the soldiers turned to look at them.

Salute, advance, invitation, attaque au fer, quarte, riposte, preparation, balestra, flick, prise de fer, opposition, lunge, en garde, retreat, simultaneous, derobement, thrust, quinte, coulé, parry, recovery, moulinet, passe arriere, feint, glide, seconde, volt.

They were good, so good it was a true spectacle to watch, and the crew and the Navy men felt that if they hadn't decided beforehand to play it by the rules, their match would have become wild and lawless. Coins changed hands when the blacksmith finally disarmed the lieutenant.

The victorious man suddenly hissed in pain. Something hairy and clawed had attacked his leg.

Damned cat.