Errh, this was supposed to be a new year gift, but...Happy belated New Year?


Chapter 8: Lies, lies, lies

Just as Will turned around and saw the young woman he knew to be a future victim of murder, the pirate freed himself from the soldiers' grasp.

"Out of the way!"

The women took the children inside, while the more muscular men in the street tried to get into the way of the criminal. The inhabitants of Port Royal didn't like pirates, and if they usually let them alone, this time, there was only one of them. They could take him on. Actually, they felt they'd better do so, because he was alone, and armed. To escape from the soldiers, he wouldn't shy away from hurting, maybe killing someone. They had to stop him before it happened.

The pirate ran down the street, passing through the wall of men by turning around and ducking at the appropriate times.

But he stumbled on a discarded piece of wood, and it made him fall just before a young woman.

He looked behind. There were men blocking the way.

He looked forward.

The woman was frozen in fear, blocking the way too, but she wasn't as difficult to take care of as the various men workers behind him.

The pirate gripped his cutlass harder, and thought that indeed, it would cut down some lass this day.

He raised his weapon. The blade was directed to the young woman's chest. If she lived, good for her. If she died, a pity for her. Eitherway, good for him, because he would be free, and not hanged. The cutlass was about to rip the clothes and enter the flesh. He would injure her, and throw her to the side with his weapon. He didn't care that she might die because of it. He was a pirate.

A hand fell on his left shoulder.

The pirate turned around.

Or rather, he was turned around by an iron grip.

He would have turned around eitherway, to see who was the one to whom belonged the hand, and if the men behind had caught up with him, or maybe worse, the soldiers. He would have, to assess the danger, or even simply out of instinct.

But it was the grip of a young man that turned him around, and not his own free will.

Will had grasped the pirate's shoulder as soon as he had reached him, and he had yanked him away from the woman, just before the blade had touched her. Now, he had a pirate falling on him with a cutlass in hand.

He forced himself to stay still as the weapon entered his left side. Only the tip was in. Better than nothing. If everyone in the street had seen with a blade sticking out of his back, it would have been difficult to pretend that he hadn't been wounded.

For the exact same reason, he hadn't been in a position to simply pass through the blade. If he had done that, everyone would have seen it.

And there was also the fact that he couldn't at the same time have a hold on the pirate and pass through his blade. Even if he was a supernatural occurrence, there was some consistency to his powers. He couldn't be material and not be material at the same time.

The pirate looked at the man who had caught him wide-eyed.

It was a young, handsome man, with more strength than he would have guessed just by sight. His features were somewhat familiar, but he could say he had never met him. His jaw was clenched, and he looked somewhere behind his prisoner, as if trying to remain calm.

Or to clench in the pain.

The only words he ever heard from him were quiet, and directed only to him.

"Now I have no choice but to wound you back, or they will ask where the blood comes from..."

The pirate felt something hot and tacky dribble on the hand that was holding his cutlass. He looked down the man's face, to the slightly reddened blade, and finally to where it disappeared in the young man's shirt.

The stranger, who was still holding him, and in fact, who was the only reason he hadn't fallen to the ground yet, moved a bit.

The pirate's eyes darted to the short sword at the young man's hip.

He had said that he would injure him. He had the means to do it. And apparently the will, too.

The pirate tried to get his cutlass out of his opponent to counter, but the stranger was holding it with his left hand, apparently not caring about the edge of the blade that was furrowing his fingers.

Will took out his sword, and released the pirate's. He couldn't walk around harming non-threatening people, even pirates, after all. And he had no doubt as to what the criminal would do as soon as his weapon would be free.

Feeling the grasp of the young man weakening, the pirate drew his cutlass back to him, before swinging it to the man's head.

This stranger should not have gotten in his way.

Will ducked.

The blade went just two inches above his head, before going down to attack him once more.

But his own blade pierced the man's stomach at the same time. Will made a step to his right. The attack died in the dirt of the street.

The pirate fell onto Will, who had placed himself just before him so that it would happen. He withdrew his sword from the man, not really caring if the pirate lived or not, after all, he was surely an assassin and a thief, and he was bound to be hanged if he survived. On the other hand, he cared that he'd get as much blood on him, if only to cover the fact that there was some of his blood there too, when there wasn't a wound left to be seen.

The crow had parted for the two soldiers and the lieutenant of the Navy to join the criminal and the one who had stopped him.

To Will's surprise, Norrington cursed when he recognized him. Will's surprise wasn't because of the "when he recognized him" part. No, what was shocking what that the future commodore James Norrington actually cursed.

The lieutenant pushed the pirate aside, right into the arms of the soldiers.

James' eyes widened dangerously as he took in the bloody state of one Wilhem Carter.

"Your luck with pirates is still particularly low, I can see."

Will grunted something unintelligible in answer to the very dry tone, as he tried to move away from the crowd.

The lieutenant certainly thought it was because of the wound that could only be the reason for all the blood and the cut in the smith's shirt. He stopped Carter from leaving.

"You shouldn't be moving with that wound."

"Not my blood. It's his."

Norrington squinted at the lie, and before Will could stop him, he pushed aside the sliced shirt to look at the wound he was sure to find. But he saw nothing, except a bit of blood, that had apparently made its way through the fabric and the hole in it.

"You're telling the truth..."

Will winced, as he knew it not to be the case, and yet, felt slightly insulted. He hadn't given any reason to the lieutenant to doubt his word. Alright, not many, beside the diamonds, and the fact that he didn't always answer every question asked, and... The point was, there was no reason for Norrington not believe him.

"Of course I am. The tip of the cutlass only cut the shirt before he chose to go for my head instead."

Lies, lies, lies, you're a liar, Will, a liar... Shut it.

Of course he was a liar. If he wasn't, he'd be in deep shit. If there was one thing the people liked less than pirates and criminals, it was a supernatural being on the loose, that was not up in heaven, nor down in hell, these two being the approved districts for the supernatural.

James frowned, looking at all the blood, then looking at the sorry looking pirate and his wound, and back at the blood on Carter. That was quite a lot of blood for a single wound... Oh, well, if the criminal didn't die of it, he'd be hanged all the same.

"You'll need another shirt."

Will suddenly remembered that this shirt, as every other piece of clothing he had worn since he had been thrown back in time, except what he had had with him at the time, had been given to him. Worse, if he wasn't wrong...

This was one of Norrington's shirts.

He wasn't sure why, but the former captain of the Flying Dutchman suddenly felt a bit awkward, standing there in the lieutenant's shredded and bloodied shirt, as the said lieutenant was checking his side for wounds he didn't have anymore.

"Right, hang on... I have one here."

As he said this, Will noticed he in fact didn't have his bundle with him. All his possessions were in it, and the bundle itself was in fact his old headscarf. He looked around and saw it lying on the ground near the young woman whose life he knew for a fact he had just saved. He made his way to get it back, shrugging as if to say sorry.

Sorry about what, he wasn't sure himself. But sorry nonetheless.

"I hadn't even noticed I had let go of it."

Norrington quiclky ordered the red coats to get the pirate to the jail, since it seemed he wouldn't do him the pleasure of dying on the spot. Once that done, the lieutenant led the blacksmith to a place where he could get changed without having half a dozen of onlookers. Female onlookers proved to be extremely difficult to escape, by the way, and that irked James to a point! No sense of decency, these young women, really!

The lieutenant looked at the darkened sky while the blacksmith changed into a clean shirt. It seemed it would rain this night.

"How exactly do you do that?"

The question had escaped from James' mouth before he even got the time to consider that there wasn't an answer. He bit his lip, conscious of his slightly exasperated tone. He didn't want Carter to think he was mad at him or anything. It was just that...

Well, it was a bit worrying that the blacksmith had had so many encounters with pirates during the years. From what he had managed to make him say, and James would like to point out that it wasn't much, the Navy man had gathered that it was at least the fifth time, today.

Apparently Carter had met his first pirate more or less in the same fashion as the young William Turner, and when he was a child too. After that, there had been an attack on his city. Carter had also let it slip that he had somehow ended up searching for a pirate to get back something of value, but as soon as the words had left his mouth, he had clammed up, as if it was something he'd rather not talk about. Then there had been the Eleanor's Jewels... And now, this?

James wasn't stupid. He knew that many people on the seas hadn't gone there out of their free will. It happened that pirates took prisoners during a raid, forcing them to work on their ship or die... and sometimes, those people became real pirates in the end, and not only slaves. There were also those that, after meddling a bit with this kind of criminals without meaning it, ended up being drawn back in the mess, meddling a bit more with pirates as a consequence, being targeted for a reason or another, meddling too much with the wrong persons, and finally, one thing leading to another, engaging in piracy without even being aware of it until it was too late.

And dying, be it at the hand of another pirate or of a Navy man, be it because of a hangman's hoose or not. Or, they simply died, without the previous steps to becoming a pirate.

The point was, Carter seemed to be attracting pirates-related-troubles. Being so unlucky, it was only a matter of time before he died, or at least, got badly injured because of it.

"How do I do what?"

James wasn't sure, but he thought the blacksmith's voice was a bit tense.

"How do you always get in trouble with criminals?"

If Norrington had been looking at Will, he would have seen the young man relax. But he was looking in the other direction, not sure if Carter was done with changing or not, so he saw nothing.

For a moment, Will had thought the lieutenant had discovered his lie about the wound, even if he saw no way this could happen, after all, James Norrington was supernatural-repellent. Or maybe he had caught up on the fact that Will had started running to the young woman before the pirate had even tripped down and she had ended up between him and his escape route. There were so many ways for the lieutenant, who was the one he was the closest to since his coming back into time, Will the younger excepted, to discover that something didn't add up with "Wilhem Carter"!

Too many ways, for even if he didn't want to, Will couldn't help but use his powers from time to time, reflexes gained after almost one century with them. Just the other day, he had evaded an out-and-about barrel that had escaped a sailor's grasp, but not by jumping to the side. Luckily, no one had seen how the barrel had actually gone through him...

He'd had to work on that.

Because there were too many ways for him to be discovered that even the most down-to-earth people would, if he wasn't more careful, pick up the hints. Even James Norrington would grow suspicious if he saw a barrel roll through his newly-made friend, or other things of the same type happening.

"As long as I am the victim, and not the perpetrator, it shouldn't be a problem, right?"

The lieutenant turned to the half-joking man, who now wore a light grey shirt.

"Yes, as long as you aren't a criminal too, I won't have to arrest you. But what I mean, Carter, is that you'll end up dead if this go on."

James' eyes went down to the bloodied shirt, remembering the injured pirate.

"Even if I have to say that your demonstration from before and your fighting skills make you more of an executioner than a victim. I'd pity the criminals who would attack you, if they weren't just that, criminals."

"I'll stick to saving my own life, and if possible, others' too, I promise. I didn't ask to attract trouble, you know."

Will's tone was a bit teasing, which made Norrington arch an eyebrow.

"Indeed. Now, what were you planning for the day? I'd rather accompagny you, just in case another pirate assaults you on the way."

Will laughed. It was still strange to him, to have James Norrington the Great Pirate Pursuer caring for his well-being, but he couldn't say it was unpleasant.

"To the Brown Forge. I heard the blacksmith is searching for an apprentice."

Not exactly true. He hadn't heard it anywhere. But he knew it to be true. After all, he had been taken as an apprentice there for that exact reason, decades ago. Or a timeline ago? Eitherway...

They started walking. The passersby were looking oddly at the bloodied cloth in Will's hand, before their gaze traveled to the lieutenant next to him, and they simply decided it wasn't their business. To stare, that is. Gossiping was another thing altogether.

"I don't believe you need any more training, Carter..."

As he said that, James ogled shamelessly at the young man's sword.

Will followed his gaze, and smirked. He had just gotten an idea, to repay Norrington and Portwell for the leniency they had displayed after he had told them about his and Will the younger's father.

He doubted they'd say no, once he'd present them the gifts he wanted to craft.

Maybe he could do something for Gibbs too... He had been great in trying to entertain and possibly frighten the children with the darskest legends of the seas, to no avail with Elizabeth, Will feared.

Elizabeth...

Would it be alright for him to make her a gift, too, before he sailed away?

For now, he though he'd stay one or two months in Port Royal... But he really needed to speak to Tia Dalma, if anything.

Will sighed, shook his head to dismiss the lieutenant's questioning glance, and went on walking to the smithy he knew so well. He'd think about it. A gift for Elizabeth... Not a weapon, obviously, she was way too young for that... But maybe a necklace, or a bracelet.

Which reminded him that he'd have to at least try to get the medallion out of her possession.

Ah, his life had become so chaotic, lately... But it was still better than being stuck on the Dutchman.

They arrived at the smithy, which looked just as he remembered. Before entering, Will answered Norrington's latest statement.

"It's not for me. But I think that it wouldn't be so bad a position for Will to get."

The lieutenant nodded in understanding, and turned to leave. He was stopped by Carter's voice.

"See, Lieutenant, no pirate attack on the way!"

James smiled a bit.

"Just... Try not to get yourself killed, will you?"