A change of course had just been delivered to Will Turner's soot-stained hands in the form of a letter, with paper clean, crisp, and sealed by the governor's formal crest. He had assumed something like this was bound to happen eventually, but that didn't prevent the clench he felt in his stomach.
This letter broke three precedents. First: Will only had received one other letter from the governor over the years, and it had been a simple formality-Governor Swann really only ever needed to address Mister Brown, the true owner of the forge. The second: in all that time, Mister Brown had only received missives from the mansion's office stamped with a much simpler monogram. And third: those messages were sent by post, while this one came by footman. This much more direct and formal correspondence meant that the governor wished to see Will specifically... and over something much more significant than the business of steel and iron.
He had a sinking feeling he knew what that 'something' was, and if he was right...
'Don't think it yet. Read it first.'
When Will broke the seal and quietly scrutinized the florid script as quickly as he could, he found that the letter was an invitation for a 'special audience' at the governor's mansion tomorrow afternoon-an extremely short notice. It had only been a week since the day of Jack Sparrow's hanging, so he'd had much work to do. And thanks to all he'd been assigned to catch up on, he was still in the position of not yet having traded his cape and hat back for his old coat. While he may have lost interest in catering to society's arbitrary whims, he had a feeling that this meeting was one where he wanted to have a good impression.
He probably should have prioritized a trade-back sooner.
In spite of the suddenness of the invitation, he obtained permission to have a little leave from work both today and tomorrow, provided he made up his work after hours-the formality of the letter and its delivery proved very helpful to persuasion. Using a bit of time just ahead of his normal dinner break, he sent back a hasty reply indicating his acceptance of the invitation, then fetched his hat and cape to run a hasty errand to the shop where he'd negotiated last week's trade. He was extremely lucky that his old coat had not been sold or repurposed yet, and with a little cajoling he managed to secure a reverse trade.
That evening, he set about his labors for twice as long as he'd originally intended. Only a few minutes prior to midnight, rain had brought some much needed relief from a godforsaken heatwave that had taken over Jamaica-being able to throw open the windows to access a cooling breeze had been a welcome relief after a week of suffocation. His mind sharpened with the drop in temperature. And not for the first or last time, Will Turner labored late into the night, his mind carried away in ruminations about a cherished woman sleeping at the top of the hill and a forgotten man lost at the bottom of the sea.
The morning passed quickly, maybe alarmingly so. Once noon came, Mister Brown permitted him to take his break, allowing Will to wash up and change into a fresh shirt before his appointment. This effort promptly meant nothing, since by one o'clock the heat of the past week had returned with a vengeance. Will found himself sweating so profusely that his fresh shirt became as damp as his discarded one within minutes. To make all of it even more punishing, the ground was still surprisingly sodden from the aforementioned overnight storm, requiring him to not only slog through some particularly smelly, sodden sludge in the streets of town, but to also glide and mash his every step into the muddy ground of the damned hill he now trudged towards the governor's manor.
One day he'd be able to afford a decent pair of boots.
Eventually, the sounds of the town faded into the distance, and the mud became drier and more shallow as Will neared the top of the incline. By the time he'd made it to the gate, he was puffing and rumpled from the exertion in the now-sweltering afternoon, and the soles of his shoes looked as if they were sculpted straight from the earth, thanks to the thickly caked clag around his toes and heels. As if to tie it all together, his stockings had acquired an elegant splattering pattern of mud across his ankles.
"Shit..."
He looked absolutely terrible. And while he did have a handkerchief with him, this amount of mess could not be corrected with the wiping of a single rag. After wandering for a few minutes along the tree line at the edge the road, Will discovered a rock conveniently shaped for scraping most of the mud from his feet. Following that and after a short debate, he chose to leave the sweat on his face and instead use his napkin to wipe off as much muddy residue as he could from his stockings and shoes. In the end, this was the best he could do. The only other thing for him was to hope it was enough.
That done, he finally set his jaw and approached the gate of the manor, where he was saluted at the gates by the porter. He knew it was by design and no doubt felt all the more important following the city's sacking, but penetrating the layers of security to the governor's household always felt like a task unto itself, even when invited.
Will presented his letter of invitation and then was led to main door, where he was admitted over the threshold by the butler. As the door was closed behind him with a hollow drum, the cool, polished silence of tiled floors and glass windows swallowed him up, bringing back a familiar yet intense sense of being blatantly out of his element. Even though he'd visited before, everything about the mansion always felt so meticulous and shining and shielded-it left him feeling small, foreign and temporarily disoriented. He didn't have time to dwell on the sensation; he was immediately herded out of the foyer, through the parlor, and into the governor's office.
His heart was still racing, despite the moment of respite he'd had demucking his shoes at the top of the hill. He resisted the urge to glance back at the tiles behind him or the beautiful rug now under his feet, curious over how much of the outside world he had trailed with him into this one. Instead, he took a breath, clasped his hands behind his back, lifted his head, and focused on the elegantly attired politician seated before him-who was only now depositing his quill in its inkwell and turning to face Will.
"Mister Turner," Governor Swann's voice and expression were cordial, if not exactly warm, "thank you for coming on such short notice. Do take a seat."
He stood and indicated with an open palm to one of two armchairs Will just now realized were at to his right, one with its back to the side wall, the other with its back to a bookcase along the wall framing the door he'd just pass through. This put both chairs in a position of facing the governor's desk, which was tucked against the corner direction in front of the office door, at even angles.
"Thank you for the invitation, sir," Will replied, attempting a polite smile. "I hope you are well."
He also hoped he sounded more composed to the governor than he appeared. In attempting to step back and lower himself into the farther of the offered chairs without showing the governor his back, he found his legs were suddenly shaky from his climb. Rather than sit like normal, his legs gave way and he stumbled into his seat with a clumsy thud. Will grimaced to himself over the action-what a 'perfect' way start things off.
Whatever Governor Swann thought of the moment was kept masked as he gracefully lifted his coat and set himself in his own chair.
"We are just waiting on the third member of our party, before we get to business," he said.
Will couldn't help the surprise that lit his face. The seal on the letter hadn't seemed to indicate... "This is a business matter?"
Swann didn't face him as he answered, busying himself with straightening papers on his desk. "In some ways, yes."
A tense silence fell between them. Will felt the knots returning in his stomach. Why didn't he think to bring his satchel as a precaution? Had he read the governor's intent incorrectly? It was possible: he didn't really know the man. What if the seal had just been what the governor had had at the time? But... no, he surely would have said as much in his letter. And he definitely would have invited Master Brown to this meeting. Right?
No, this couldn't be right.
Will began to speak, "Then I must apologize: I'm afraid you've caught me unprepared. I've left my slate–"
"Not that sort of business, I'm afraid." Swann did turn and face him at this, finally pinning Will with a quietly determined gaze.
For a single second, the blacksmith's hands clenched on their perch atop his thighs, and Will noticed Swann's observation flit over him, a suddenly scrutinizing expression on his face. So he hadn't been wrong... it had to be his earliest assumption that this had nothing to do with smithing and everything to do with-
The clatter of house slippers on hurried feet reverberated through the foyer and into the parlor. Elizabeth Swann breezed into the office within seconds, and Will found himself temporarily frozen at the sight of her, nearly unable to breathe. She was coiffed like flower, her hair gathered in delicate twists and curls high off her neck, her body enrobed in the soft bell of a simple rosy skirt and pale striped jacket. But her face was lit with a wildfire of determination, and when she looked at him, Will found he was grinning before he could think. Though her eyes were blazing, he was not burned under their sight-rather he felt that her presence was much like the refreshment of the previous night's storm, effortlessly blowing the oppressive atmosphere away, and his heart thrilled with a jolt of lightning when she beamed brightly back at him, evidently delighted to see him.
"Will!" she chimed, reaching for him with a hand still-bandaged around its palm.
Both men stood, the younger man on his feet in a split second, practically springing forward to meet his love and accept the comforting thrill of her soft hand in his.
She stepped further into him, her free hand alighting upon his cheek in a caress, and continued speaking with her voice raised in excitement, "I can't believe you came all this way on foot in this heat–you must be absolutely parched!"
Will could still only smile, smitten to the hilt. It was the same every time he saw her, as to him she was utterly beguiling. But a week of working had also meant a week without so much as seeing Elizabeth. Now that he stood with every sense entirely enfolded by her, all he could do for the moment was let himself fall and marvel at how it was he had missed her so and still managed to ignore it. He was parched, but not for lack of drink... Fortunately, she didn't seem to expect a reply yet. She raised herself on her toes to lean lightly into him, and Will happily bent to greet the pleasing press of her lips with the gentle touch of his own-a pleasure he was still getting used to, and partially doubt he ever would.
At their open exchange of affection, Governor Swann barely stifled from their ears a clearly frustrated sigh, brief and chaste as it was. They both ignored it.
Instead, Elizabeth's expression glowed warm as her vision met Will's again, until it shifted to a sparkle of amusement. Her hand left her suitor's cheek to disappear into her pocket. Withdrawing a plain handkerchief, she began to dab at the sweat which Will hadn't realized was still sticking to his brow. But he did realize she smelled of roses and spice and the fruit lingering on her breath, while he probably stank of the smoke and sudor and sewage of town. He almost grew hotter from shame, if not for the tenderness in her eyes cooling the instinct to flinch or pull away from her affectionate ministrations. Instead, he swayed into her touch.
"Somehow I've managed."
The humor in her face brightened.
"Well, allow us to offer you a drink," she said. She lowered her hand to rest beside her other, cradled against Will's chest, then turned towards one of the governor's footmen, standing attentively by the office door. "Something light, please."
The servant bowed with a neat snap, and quietly shut the door behind him as he left the office.
Elizabeth turned back to Will to continue dabbing his face with her handkerchief, and he found himself marveling anew over how he had ever achieved earning any attention from her. Even when they were children, she had doted on him without his realizing all she had wanted was his attention in return, and it had taken years to understand why. Before she could go any further, he captured her hand and her glance with his own. For an expression of the gratitude he felt in his heart, he drew her palm close and brushed it lovingly against his lips.
"Thank you," he whispered.
Her expression shifted to something deeper-and then a cleared throat cut in before Will had time to rediscover it, snapping both of their attentions to the side.
"Yes, thank you, my dear," her father stammered. "Always the dutiful hostess. Now that all involved parties are present, I do think we may begin with our… proceedings." Swann gestured at the two chairs where Will had been seated before.
Releasing each other with reticent glances, the pair took to their seats. While Will took care to lower himself with more refinement than before, the sound of chair feet rushing against the rug announced Elizabeth's resolve to do just the opposite. Instead, she brought her chair into direct abutment with Will's, surprising him when she also pressed her petticoats against the side of his leg. But his surprise only came from not anticipating her touch, and he admired her with laughter in his eyes when she also hooked her arm through the crook of his elbow. She grinned back at him, this time with an air of mischief.
"Elizabeth–" tutted the governor.
"Yes, Father?" she cut-in, using an exceptionally dulcet tone that directly contradicted the combative fervor in her face. To further emphasize the point, she moved her hand from Will's elbow to interlace with his fingers while tucking her opposite hand into the freshly vacated space at his elbow. Already Will felt himself growing hot from her closeness; even so he readily accepted her affections.
It wasn't half a moment before her father sighed with a dropped chin, obviously having decided that this battle was not worth fighting at this time. Perhaps it was just projection on Will's part, but as the older man stepped toward the center of the room with his head so bowed, Will thought he sensed an air of weariness about about him.
"Well," Swann began, reaching into his pocket and pinning each of them with a no-nonsense look. "I assume both of you have surmised what it is I have brought you here for. You have made your feelings quite clear recently, both through your words and the many… shall we say, zealous choices the two of you have made on each others' behalf."
The tightness in Will's stomach returned-with Elizabeth's arrival he had almost forgotten the reason he'd come to begin with. But he felt Elizabeth regarding him, and when he ventured a peek at her in the corner of his eye, she caught his gaze, squeezed his arm, and smiled at him again. The knots inside loosened, and he lay his free hand appreciatively over her hand embracing his arm. They were together now-that was the important thing.
"Somehow I get the impression there will be no sense in attempting to dissuade you from one another," the governor continued not-quite-sarcastically. Having drawn out his own handkerchief, he took a moment to also mop his face dry, then began folding it neatly for re-pocketing. "That being said, there are still expectations I require to be met before I will give my blessing and support."
'I knew it,' Will thought.
But then he felt Elizabeth's body tense, and he abandoned his judgments. When he moved to examine her reaction, he found a distinctly indignant frown framing a mouth already parting open for argument.
Her father lifted a hand to quell her fury. "I did not say 'no.'"
It worked, for the moment-while she maintained a wary air, Elizabeth backed down.
However, this time Governor Swann did not, instead pushing forward with his voice taking on a deeply firm tone. "You are still my daughter, Elizabeth, and not only representative of our family but more importantly... " He faltered for a moment, taking a full steadying breath, and it was then that Will realized the man was holding back tears; when he found the strength keep speaking, the words came out strained from the intensity of his emotions, "... you are all I have that matters in this world."
The words rang in Will's ears, echoing in his mind, until he felt the feelings behind them slowly building in resonance and his heart started to hum. There were few things the blacksmith felt he had in common with the island governor-this was a sentiment he felt he understood well. He watched Governor Swann as he regarded his daughter, a storybook of emotions unfolding across his features chapter by chapter, year by year. So it was when Governor Swann turned his focus to the man on Elizabeth's arm with a sharpened scrutiny, Will met that scrutiny with cautious concern: whatever was about to happen was built on treasured years of a paternal love and care he could only imagine.
For whatever reason, Swann seemed to decide against addressing Will and turned back to his daughter instead.
"I will grant you my support in your attachment, so long as we three can come to an agreement that this will not be a mere affaire du coeur ."
Will heard Elizabeth's breath stop in a barely heard gasp. Even so, he thought for a moment that maybe his ears had given out on him. 'A meer-aff-what?' Although the first part of what the governor said had sent an expectant charge up his spine, somehow the last part sounded like gibberish.
His confusion must have registered on his face, because before he knew it Elizabeth was leaning into him to whisper kindly in his ear, "A love affair–-temporary."
The brief relief of understanding was quickly brought down by its sobering implications, and Will felt his eyebrows shoot high and heat begin to burn under his collar. 'Temporary?' How could he say that? After all Will had recently endeavored for Elizabeth's sake, her father still believed his feelings for her were a passing infatuation? He could feel himself bristling-the return of some strength to Elizabeth's grip indicated she felt it too-and he took a long breath in an attempt to steel himself once again before speaking.
"Sir–"
"You have left behind what would have been a good and comfortable marriage, Elizabeth," Swann pushed adamantly over Will's interjection, determined to be heard, and Elizabeth's grip tightened further. "While I will not punish you for the impact your decision had on our honor, I also will not push you into this one before either of you are prepared. And I do not wish to be mistaken: I will not tolerate a fleeting flirtation with someone below your station if it is to no purpose. I will not allow it. Nor will I accept this business of couples running off and marrying on a whim, or otherwise sullying the family name with antenuptial … indiscretions. This is to end with a sincere and proper marriage, with a public wedding ceremony as befits our family station, or it will not be at all."
The abrupt end of the governor's monologue was followed by heavy silence. He had said so much so quickly, it was almost like the wave of words had to filter their meaning into Will's mind. Once they had, his heart was already hammering inside of his throat. Had he heard right? Had Elizabeth's father just said-? Eyes seeking eyes, he found Elizabeth was similarly stunned. Soon Will saw a silver lining of joy begin to dawn in those radiant eyes, the true significance of the governor's meeting beginning to unfold itself like a morning glory.
'Marriage...'
"This is a life-altering decision," Will barely registered the governor say, his pulse was thundering so loud in his ears. With great effort he tore his attention from Elizabeth to listen to his host continue, "So I would ask that the two of you take some time to consider it seriously before making a decision. In two week's time… I would like your pledge or your renunciation."
Will swiveled his head back to Elizabeth's father to find him staring firmly in his direction. Was this an ultimatum? A challenge? A warning?
"Can you commit to that?"
"Yes!" Elizabeth exclaimed, so instantaneous she almost leapt from her seat.
Will wanted to find her face again, but something about the way Swann studied him made him feel he could not yet look away and he could sense she was likewise analyzing her father. While he couldn't say exactly what this was, Will knew that the governor was asking of him something beyond the pledge of lawful commitment-this was a measure of the heart. Thus far, he could easily see the sincerity of Swann's sentiments as he spoke-he hoped the man would see the same strength in his own eyes as he responded to him, his arms and hands still firmly entwined with those of the one to whom he was pledging himself with all the conviction he had within him:
"Yes."
The air in the room itself seemed to hold still and silent in anticipation of the assessment of Elizabeth's father, of a confirmation that this was really all that it seemed. His brow furrowed, his regard continuing to rove over the figure of the man drawn close to his daughter's side, over the connection between them manifested in the clasp of their hands. Then his attentions were back on her face, and in a blink Will saw the hardness of Swann's calculations softening his expression, melting from his shoulders. The pain and joy of love was written across his face again.
At length, the governor nodded just once, decided. "... Good."
The couple whirled to face each other, moving like a mirror with mouths agape in reflected disbelief. What was happening? Less than a day ago, Will had been in the smithy clutching a letter he had been certain would spell the beginning of a hard fight, revealing Elizabeth's father had reneged on any implied allowance of their bond, once out of public view. Instead, they were being granted a paved path to one another and the option to take it together-the option to partner and pick their paths together for the rest of their lives. This was not the choice he had expected to have to make today.
Will was beside himself beside Elizabeth, swept up in the smile swiftly sweeping from her lips, into the depths of her eyes and down to his own soul. His heart responded to the call of hers, a surge of emotions overtaking Will and leaving him feeling so heady he was almost dizzy. Before he could catch up with the whirlwind in his mind, her arms were around his neck while his encircled her, pulling her closer and enfolding himself deeper in the weight and scent and gift of her embrace, the delight of her laughter against his chest and cheek. He could have fallen with her forever.
When he finally felt her arms relax, he released her but was not parted from her. Their hands brushed across their bodies, moving in unison to cradle the other's faces and draw their love to the comforting rest of their met foreheads. Her breath caressed his skin, bidding he open his eyes to find her already awaiting his veneration-and he gave it, taking in the sight of her face curved and crinkled with happiness almost greedily. So it was for the thousandth time in his life Will Turner felt swept away in riptides of his passions for Elizabeth Swann, overcome by the waves of memory that recalled all her sides of mischief, of humor, of bravery, compassion... The truth was he had been lost to the sea of loving her for years. That she would now leap feet-first and swim with him in such turbulent waters was nothing short of a marvel.
Tenderly clasped as the enamored pair was, neither paid notice when her father drifted back into his chair, muttering as if to himself, "Yes, good…" as he ponderously watched the young couple exchange their affections.
They did, however, notice when he signaled their separation with a cough. With reluctance, Will pulled himself away from Elizabeth's presence.
"That does not mean, of course, that the two of you are quite yet able to be formally affianced-" Governor Swann clarified, "only that we have an understanding that it will come to be in the future."
"The near future, I hope," Elizabeth responded in a teasing tone. She was clearly not currently interested in the technicalities of the situation, since her hand reclaimed Will's and she gave it a playful squeeze.
Will smiled.
Her father did not, instead raising his eyebrows in a tense expression. "Well. That entirely depends on the state of Mister Turner's apprenticeship, doesn't it?"
Everything stopped for Will, and he felt a hole open up in his stomach to drain all the warmth that had been radiating through him. It was as if he had been running full-tilt back down the hill in a euphoric mania, only to be clotheslined at the edge of town-he could almost feel an actual whiplash from the abrupt change in perspective. Of course... How could he have let himself get so caught up in the moment, elating over the opened possibility for a wedding, when he knew the actual obstacles that still stood before them, father's blessing or no?
Still holding Elizabeth's hand, he watched as her expression slowly evolved from confused, to puzzling, to her own full understanding of the reality of their situation.
"I had forgotten…" she gasped, turning to Will with wide eyes. "But then that means that–"
The office door opened, and she held her words from the attending footman's ears while he offloaded their previously requested drinks on the side table and governor's desk. Will couldn't stop the brief surprise at the tinkling of ice in the clear glasses-he wasn't aware it was possible to obtain this far in the Caribbean.
The governor gave his servant a professional smile and nod. "Thank you, Mister Paterson."
The man Will now knew was called Paterson bowed with practiced precision then let himself out the door, where the butler had appeared to wait patiently for his chance to interrupt. As the governor signaled his entry, Will chastised himself again for getting swept up so thoroughly in the excitement of his feelings. Of course things couldn't be so straight forward. Pirate adventure or no, the worlds Elizabeth and he occupied were still miles apart-one from a world filled with servants to call, the other from the world filled with the servants being called-and the passage between them had only begun to be built.
"Dinner will be set in half an hour, my lord," the butler stated, indirectly indicating the time. "I can ask for it to be held, if you prefer."
To Will's surprise, the governor turned to him. "Might we persuade you to stay for dinner, Mister Turner?"
Elizabeth jumped at the offer before Will could open his mouth. "Please do, Will. We have no other guests for once, and there will be plenty to spare. I– we would love to have your company."
Will felt a small pang at the eagerness in her voice-he hated to disappoint her, and he could think of only a few things that sounded more appealing to him than a quiet evening away from the forge, in her company. Unfortunately, another truth of the world he still lived in was that his time was not his own.
"I appreciate the invitation, and I would stay if I could spare the time. But it would require me to stay much longer than I ought. My master expects me to return within the hour."
She looked visibly let down at that, and Will couldn't resist the impulse to run an apologetic thumb across her knuckles.
"I see," Governor Swann replied. "Well, we must do our best to keep our obligations… mustn't we?"
There was a single second in which Will thought he saw the governor cast his own glimpse of disappointment in Elizabeth's direction. But it was gone as quickly as it came, and seeing as a glance at Elizabeth seemed to reveal she hadn't noticed, Will couldn't be certain he hadn't imagined it. Perhaps he was on edge from years of passive aggressive slights. He frowned at the passing perception all the same.
"Elizabeth," the governor started in a much more chipper tone than before, "don't you think it would be a good idea to send some things with Mister Turner? As you said, there will likely be excess…"
Now it was Elizabeth's turn to frown. Her fingers twitched in his hand, and Will watched as her eyes narrowed a little in calculating examination of her father's disposition. When she ventured a peek in Will's direction, he knew she had a similar reservation about the governor's suggestion as him: certainly there was nothing wrong with the suggestion itself, but why would her father need her opinion instead of offering this kindness to Will directly? Had she also noticed her father's demeanor towards him the entire meeting? Or was this something else...?
"That sounds lovely, Father," she went along, apparently having decided there wasn't any apparent harm in the suggestion yet. "Would it be alright with Mister Brown, Will?"
Will followed her lead, bowing his head in gratitude. "He would welcome your generosity, thank you."
Swann clapped with a grin. "Excellent. Then perhaps you may accompany Harold to the cook house to oversee the packing of a basket, Elizabeth?"
There it was: her father wanted to remove Elizabeth from the room. Will turned back to her, waiting to see how she would respond and readying himself to rally behind her pushback. Instead, she seemed to be calculating again, possibly weighing her father and his intentions or... To be honest, Will wasn't sure. He'd fully expected her to argue immediately at the insult of exclusion and wasn't sure why she had chosen to hold her tongue. Clearly there was something else she felt she could get her figurative hands at.
He felt her real hand relax within his fingers before she gathered her skirts and presented a pointedly polite smile to her father. Too polite. Will resisted a responding smirk.
"I'd be more than happy to," she said, her voice barely colored with a simper of sarcasm.
When Elizabeth stood, Will and her father rose with her, standing at attention together as she marched through the door without sparing a glance for either of them or the butler holding it open for her.
"Dinner will be as scheduled–thank you, Harold."
Harold performed his own well-rehearsed bow, then left the room with the click of the door behind him.
The pair's footsteps outside the office fading away, an atmosphere of quiet and heavy expectation seemed to gather over the room. Will was sharply aware of the sense that, while still a planned and important part of their gathering, Swann's address to Elizabeth and him had only been the preliminaries. Upon their abrupt isolation he could feel a shift in the governor's demeanor. The weariness Will thought he'd noticed before now appeared to hang more obviously from his finely dressed shoulders. He was sighing as he picked up his beverage, and carried it towards a collection of beautifully bottled spirits near the office bookcase. Without a word, he selected a liquor, tipped a splash into his glass, stopped the decanter, and finally took a drink.
Will was left sitting in silence with the austere view of the governor's back, framed in the light of the office's best window. He picked up his own glass and ran his thumb against the smooth and precise cuts in the crystal.
"You are rather silent, Mister Turner."
Was that meant as a joke? The governor's even tone made it difficult to tell, so Will responded honestly, "Only out of surprise."
"You were expecting a different outcome?"
Even though the governor couldn't see his expression, Will still shot him an incredulous expression. "Of course I was."
Governor Swann took another sip of his drink before walking back toward his writing desk, still not quite facing Will as he gruffly voiced his confession: "As was I."
Will stared at the governor, sobered and unmoving. This was what he had expecting from this meeting.
With one last indulgence in his cocktail, the governor set his glass down upon his desk and turned to face Will at last, a pointedly serious temper underlying in his appearance.
"I will spare us both the grief of false fronts and speak to you plainly, Mister Turner: you are not the man I wanted for my daughter. As admirable as you have been in your gallantry for her, you are yet hardly a man at all. And while I grant that you work hard and you work well, you can scarcely be expected to earn three pounds in a week-–even then, it can only be following the fulfillment of your apprenticeship. Furthermore, I highly doubt that those earnings will be able to improve for several years thereafter."
Will knew he was visibly bristling by now-he could only hold it in with great difficulty, and if he were honest, he no longer had any desire to try. This double-act of the governor was by no means fair, not only to himself but to Elizabeth as well. This still very much concerned her. "Is there a real reason you sent her away before speaking to me like this?"
"She protects you," Swann answered simply. "She's always protected you. And I cannot afford to have her shielding you from a needed discussion on reality. Not in this instance."
Reality?
Will knew what the governor was about, wanting to "discuss reality": he felt Will was young and therefore didn't understand many aspects about the world. And maybe that was true in some things. The pirates Sparrow and Barbossa had both exposed large weaknesses he hadn't expected, such as an inability to anticipate the creativities some people could reach in their greed or cruelty. Yet he had a hunch that this was not what concerned Elizabeth's father when he spoke of "discussing reality." No, Will's intuition was that Swann wanted to talk about earnings and provisions and keeping a place to sleep at night, as if childhood and apprenticeship had thus far cradled him in a soft swaddle like children of the wealthy were. Will doubted that Swann knew or considered the amount of "reality" he'd had to live already. No, he very much doubted Swann cared to discuss the reality that he'd had to begin scrounging for his and his mother's survival when he was only a child, or the reality that he'd mended his own clothes and bartered for shoe repairs from the cobbler his entire apprenticeship, or the reality that he now counted billets and coke everyday and hoped his master's consumption would leave enough shillings to keep inventory up and the smithy running. No, Will understood much more about "reality" than Swann was likely to acknowledge-it just didn't look the way that the wealthier man preferred.
"What makes you think I need shielding from reality?" came Turner's retort, almost a growl. "And for another matter, I'm beginning to wonder if this is actually about her and I or if this is about you?"
This elicited a deeply displeased frown from the governor, and his tone grew as sharp as his expression. "Your impertinence is showing, sir, and it is neither flattering nor helpful to your cause."
"Lately I have a tendency to do away with flattery once the other party becomes condescending… sir."
"Yes… I've noticed," came a slow, deliberate reply. The lines of displeasure deepened in Governor Swann's face, well past unamused with Will's open insubordination. However, he began to appear thoughtful, seemingly sizing Will up for a long moment before ultimately taking his seat. Then he shifted the topic, once again sounding surprisingly weary, "How long do you have left in your apprenticeship, Mister Turner?"
While still smarting from offense, Will could recognize the governor's intent to deescalate the situation. Truthfully, he had not meant to become combative. A part of him nagged that he shouldn't be picking fights with Elizabeth's father, the man who had just extended an olive branch by claiming willingness to allow a courtship between his daughter and the blacksmith, and Will felt somewhat ashamed at his outburst. Why was he so sensitive? So defensive? Perhaps it was because he was so tired, from the long hours of work and little sleep, from the hot weather, from the years of repeated, thinly veiled bullshit...
'Perhaps both of us ought not to meet again without better nights' rest...'
Will took a breath and calmed himself. He had managed polite restraint for many years, he could manage it again for a short, formal meeting. So he chose to also take a seat. As he moved to do so, the hint of a shadow caught his eye, flitting across the gaps in the shutters which framed the office door. Realizing what it could be, he attempted to conceal all visible evidence of his observation as he returned his attention to answering Swann's question regarding the length of his apprenticeship: "Not ten month's time."
Swann nodded. "Meaning you are still legally barred almost entirely from claiming any rights to a home or marriage for almost a full year."
The problem earlier alluded to Elizabeth was now brought fully into the light. Will could find nothing to say in response-what useful thing could be said, anyhow? Denying the assertion was pointless. Acknowledging its truth hurt his pride and, if he were honest, made him nervous. The law was clear that his labors and property were actually Mister Brown's, and while owning nothing, relying entirely on his master's care, Will was forbidden from starting a family of his own. That was the law, and the governor had made it clear that he expected any union between Will and Elizabeth to be proper, legal. And while the governor had proven useful in waving aside most of Will's recent conflicts with the law in ways that would save his life, no doubt there had to be a limit to his circumventions. As a further caveat, all of the governor's previous intercessions had really come at the behest of Elizabeth, who had pleaded with her father repeatedly on Will's behalf... and who had specifically been dismissed for this confrontation.
So Will said nothing, instead taking an opportunity to finally lift his glass to his lips and take a drink of what turned out to be some refreshing thing made with oranges and mint. He wished the circumstances were different so he could better enjoy it.
Swann let out a sudden, sharp breath of grave exasperation, punctuated by a drop of his fist to his knee. "You are not ready to be a husband…!"
Will opened his mouth to contest by reflex.
Swann continued before he could get one word out, "But we cannot wait five or ten years for you to become ready–-she will not wait that long. We will have to make you ready."
Will shut his mouth back up. Make him ready...? That wasn't necessarily a dismissal. If anything it seemed to suggest that the governor was at least attempting to be on his and Elizabeth's side. Maybe. And the governor wasn't necessarily wrong. Currently, Will wasn't ready to start a family at all. He was several years younger than the typical age, with that godforsaken law restraining him. But that didn't mean he couldn't become ready, even without help. And that was the part that frustrated him: couldn't the governor see what he was already capable of doing, what he could do when he set his mind to it? Certainly, blacksmiths didn't have the wealth of aristocrats, but they didn't tend to wallow in poverty either. Good blacksmiths could live in reasonable levels of comfort, and even though he was still an apprentice Will felt he had a right to say he was a damned good blacksmith. It didn't have to seem so bleak: all he really needed was a little time and opportunity.
"Respectfully, sir," Will spoke with much less aggression, "I believe I am far more capable than I have been given chance to prove."
It could have been the words he had chosen or the more measured way he chose to say them, but for whatever reason, when Governor Swann looked at Will in answer his demeanor softened into something close to sympathy.
"I don't doubt it. In truth, I don't doubt you, Mister Turner–you have proven your mettle in ways I could never have anticipated. Unfortunately, much of this isn't just about capability alone."
The older man appeared thoughtful as he reached for his drink again, seeming to weigh his words with the swirling of his glass while he shifted his attention to his garden behind his window. Will peered through the smooth glass as well and noticed for the first time the peacefulness of the mansion grounds, with no din of market traffic or dockworkers or dogs and chickens... only the wind and the birds in the trees, carrying the distant call of the ocean. The only time Will could hear his thoughts so clearly at the smithy was well after dark.
Eventually, Governor Swann took one final swallow of the concoction in his hand. He sighed again and shook his head to himself.
"This mansion was never meant to be mine forever..." he said slowly. "My time here as governor was always meant to be temporary. And by the estimation of some men of not inconsiderable influence, I have already overstayed my welcome by several years. As such, I have known for some time that, at a time not entirely within my control, I will have to return to England… leaving Elizabeth in the care of whichever man she would accept for a husband."
This was new information to Will. He knew little of government, never having had the right to participate, and had always assumed that the governor would live in the mansion for the rest of his life. While he still didn't agree with him, this did cast the concerns of Elizabeth's father in a somewhat different light...
Sensing Will's contemplation, Governor Swann leaned forward in his chair, imploring.
"I ask you to see things from my perspective, Mister Turner, as another man who professes to love her: my daughter denied a man with an established estate, here and in England, in favor of a man who hardly owns his own name. You may build your home for her with your own two hands, but it will never compare to the comfort and stability she might have had. Now–" He put up a hand at Will's involuntary shift of aggravation, continuing with insistence, "I do not mean this as a personal slight against your character. Again, it is mere reality–-the reality of your birth, which you cannot control and I would never fault you for. But it is a reality in which you have no title, you have no family, you have no home. To be frank, you have practically nothing to offer her or our family… only the work of your hands and the love in your heart."
He paused, seemingly wanting to choose his next words carefully.
"And while love does count for a great many things… it does not buy bread."
Will clenched his teeth, torn between seething and reflecting. Though he craved to exonerate the image of his current prospects, the truth was he could not. It was all as the governor said. But once again he was frustrated knowing that this life of apprenticeship wasn't all that he was, all that he would ever be, and the governor didn't seem to be willing to acknowledge it. How had he allowed himself to accept such feckless thinking and customs for so many years? How had Elizabeth endured it in him, seeing it exactly for what it was the entire time? Things weren't set stone the way the world pretended they were. Reality could change, it could-
"I know it is a hard thing to hear," the governor spoke sympathetically, "but as I have said: please do not take this as an affront to your character."
The young blacksmith gave the governor a long and intent look, his frustration beginning win out again. He opened his mouth to speak, thought better of it, then doubled back on his determination. "I am sorry, but how else am I supposed to take this, sir? In one breath you say, 'I love my daughter and respect her choice,' but in the very next breath you imply that I might fail her, or that I might love her for a season and then leave her entirely."
The governor surprised Will once again, when his face warmed and he nodded as if conceding Will's point.
"I was out of line to imply such. You are still young and, if I may say so, a palpably passionate man. In this affair I am only a father, and in that sense I may be prone to…" He stopped short of his admission with pursed lips. Instead he changed course and looked Will in the eyes. "I do not mean to sound callous or judgmental, Mister Turner. Please understand: the love my daughter holds for you and that which you have demonstrated to hold for her…" He stopped again, Will spying hints of the man's prior raw emotions flickering in and out of his eyes. "In that you have my utmost respect."
Clearly, there was a reason this man was a politician of his standing. While Will had found himself lacking the words and the tact to convey his perspective effectively to the governor, within a short round of arguments, the governor's perspective had been made clear in a way that made it hard for Will to do anything but agree. He was clear, concise, constrained and compromising, careful in drawing attention to their common concerns... All things Will had not been.
He still lacked much in the arts of negotiation.
So it had to be agreed: despite Will's best intentions, his current status was a hurdle standing in the way of Elizabeth's stability. While not an unsurmountable problem, the governor still deemed it significant, as they faced a time constraint tied to an eventual departure from his office. And while Will had a feeling there would be strong disagreements over what it looked like, they both knew that governor could not leave Jamaica without Elizabeth settled in a life of comfort. Which meant... what?
Exhaustion began to sweep over Will, such that he was beginning to find it difficult to think. He ran a hand over his eyes.
"What is it you actually want of me, sir?"
"For you to understand my expectations of you as my daughter's potential husband. You have ten month's time before you may ask for her hand and the banns may be read. Hopefully, I will be able to maintain my post for two more years before I will have to consider leaving you."
Will kept his eyes closed under his fingertips, listening and calculating with what remaining energy his mind currently had. When the governor didn't immediately continue, he realized he was being waited on and dropped his hand.
As anticipated, Governor Swann was looking at him intently, wanting full attention and understanding as he spoke: "I want to see you with a stable income and having secured a comfortable home before you are wed. If you cannot achieve it, I feel I must persuade Elizabeth to find another match or bring her back home with me to England."
The first part Will could understand, but the second assertion reanimated his vexation over Elizabeth's dismissal from the room. How could her father exclude her from this, when it involved her so directly?
"You've consulted her about this?"
Swann pressed his lips together, then responded coolly, "She will be informed."
Will frowned. So she hadn't been informed. Or at least... He resisted glancing at the office door, wondering if that shadow he had seen before would appear again. Either way, if her father refused to inform her of this ultimatum regarding her fate, Will would do it in his stead. Now that Will had tasted what it was like to reject misguided conventions, he found the prospects of returning to many old norms stifling-he knew Elizabeth would likewise be all the more determined to speak and act for herself from now on in ways that made her father tut and puff... Will could never dream of stopping her.
That would come soon. For the moment, Will just needed to placate her father and get out of this uncomfortable conversation.
"It will take a lot of work… but I think that can be managed, assuming Elizabeth approves," he said.
The governor nodded, seemingly satisfied. "I hope so. In addition…"
'Oh, god, not more...'
"Well. There's more to be said, but I believe I'd promised to include her in the conversation from this point. We'll leave it at this: I will not grant my full blessing until you have secured yourself materially to an extent that I have found satisfactory. I understand that you are limited by the legal contract of your apprenticeship now, but I believe that with my influence we may be able to come to some sort of arrangement with your master that would allow for you to begin keeping your own funds sooner rather than later…"
Will felt his chest tighten. An arrangement with Mister Brown likely meant handing more money over than was first agreed upon in the governor's original sponsorship agreement. The last thing Brown needed right now was more coins in his pocket...
"If it is to prove myself that you are asking, sir, I would ask that you do not pay dues to my master on my behalf."
"For my daughter's sake, I will do as I please," the governor shut down Will's plea fast and hard, speaking more resolutely than he had the entire afternoon. "The fact of life, Mister Turner, is that we do not get to the places we need to be on the strength of our labors alone. Your pride will recover from my assistance, and you will be all the better for it."
Evidently Will wasn't the only one losing patience-the governor obviously misunderstood Will's motivation in refusal, it was clear from his tone that there would be no debate on the matter. But maybe there could be other ways, other arrangements besides giving money to a man with a hole in his pocket...
"You've already done so much for me as it is, sir," Will attempted, feeling feeble.
"I could hardly have done otherwise."
Sharp knocks tapped the office door. Relief washed over Will as Elizabeth appeared at its opening, though with no accompanying servants or baskets of food in sight. He searched her face with a question he'd held in the back of his mind for most of his interrogation. When her eyes met his and he saw their fire, he found the answer:
She'd heard it all.
Elizabeth had had a feeling her father had been planning something for a while now. It wasn't that much different from when he'd been arranging her engagement to Norrington, really. He had a habit of falling into longer silences when keeping a secret, which ironically gave it away. And ever since the day of Jack Sparrow's foiled hanging-the day Will had finally voiced how he'd always loved her, the day her engagement to the commodore was ended-her father had grown very, very silent.
That was the reason she hadn't been surprised when she had discovered that he intended to meet with Will privately. And seeing as she had only been permitted to join the meeting after revealing her discovery of his secret parlay, she had not been surprised during the meeting when he improvised an opportunity to speak with Will alone anyway. She could have stayed, she knew. Father hated making a scene and would not have drawn out a quarrel with her over the matter. But she had also known that he would not say the things he intended for Will if she stayed. So she had left, having chosen to take advantage of her father's scenario and use it to spy instead, leaving Harold with suggestions on what to put in dinner basket.
She was glad she had, as she finally knew a part of her father's mind in a way he'd never shared with her before. It enraged her.
The rest of the meeting proceeded quickly. Elizabeth's father informed her of the agreed upon timeline for her and Will's engagement, to which she granted her consent. She had half a mind to press him on his intentions to take her back to England should the timeline fail, but ultimately decided to keep her knowledge unspoken for the time-it could prove useful in the future. And there was always a chance he suspected she had been listening, anyway.
The dinner basket was brought from the kitchens, having been stuffed with pies, puddings and few extra things Elizabeth revealed she had requested from the pantry. Once plans were settled to everyone's satisfaction, the attending footman was instructed to take the basket to the property gate while Elizabeth volunteered herself to escort Will on his way out. As she wound her arm around his, she took the liberty of whispering in his ear about the preserves and butter that she had requested to be tucked away-those were little things to her and her father, but for him they were niceties she knew he'd been having to forego to maintain the smithy's budget. The delighted surprise that lit his face was immensely gratifying. She'd always loved making him smile.
While the pleasantries they exchanged were enjoyable enough, she almost felt like her tongue was on fire from holding it for so long. And she knew that Will likely was just as eager as her to unpack the more important things that had just transpired. Once they crossed the threshold, together they cast careful eyes around them to confirm that they had passed out of the earshot of their observers. To their advantage, while they were being watched it did not seem that they could be heard... at least for a few paces. They could finally speak.
"How much did you hear?" Will asked her lowly.
"Enough," she scoffed. "How quaint of him to warn us against an affaire du coeur in my presence, and then in yours threaten to sweep me away and practically turn our courtship into one anyway. I'll be having words with him, just you wait. Going back to England-I'd like to see him try to load me on that boat and take me away from you now! If he wants an affair, he'll get an affair!"
Will shook his head at her tirade, but there was a sparkle in his eye.
"Not exactly the typical sort of love affair, I would hope..." he teased, and she felt her heart flutter. His smile...
No longer satisfied with their current closeness, Elizabeth slid her hand down his forearm and wove her fingers back into the welcoming embrace of his. Her father had scolded her the other day for touching Will so in such open spaces, claiming it was far too suggestive and people would believe they were sharing "other intimacies" in secret. She found the notion both ridiculous and delightful, and had written to Will how it would be the pinnacle of their public scandal-and also how she so wished to be able hold him again soon. She hadn't heard back from him since, and a part of her had begun to worry that she had overestimated the changes in his standards, possibly offending or intimidating him. Fortunately, that seemed to be an incorrect assumption, as he continued to smile at her and responded to her touch by giving her hand an affectionate squeeze.
"Oh, I daresay this one will be just as passionate as one might expect," she suggested in return, intentionally shortening her stride and slowing their footsteps. "Although it will last far, far longer-perhaps even a lifetime."
"Could it really be considered a love affair, then?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow.
"Maybe a different sort of affair, but yes-I do think it could."
He gave her another grin, though this one was gentler than the last and his eyes fell to the ground thoughtfully. It reminded her of what she had thought when she'd first seen him in the office this afternoon. Certainly, he was as handsome to her as he'd ever been, but the lines and sweat about his face had taken her aback somewhat. Those lines were particularly visible in this smile, up close. Instead of making her heart flutter, she found that this one made it ache.
"You look so tired," she sympathized, stroking his hand with her thumb. "How do you feel?"
His brow furrowed for a moment, as if considering his own feelings for the first time. "... Stunned, if I'm honest."
She smiled in agreement, her mind flying back to the moment that his seemed to also be, and her heart started to once again skip another beat. Yes, there had been talk of whisking her away from the Caribbean and trivializing of their intentions for each other. Her father could be somewhat insensitive to feelings such as theirs sometimes.
"A part of me was convinced he was going to have me press ganged on the next available vessel," Will confessed, his mind seeming to be on a similar path as hers, "but…"
But other things had been said, other things had been decided. And without meaning to, Elizabeth found herself falling back into the moments of those unexpected, promising, wonderful other things. She knew Will must have been thinking of them too, from the way his hand had begun to grip hers just-so. How was it only days ago that she had been looking at him in this very courtyard, deploring the way he'd looked at her with his heart shining in his eyes only to stifle it under her father's sensibilities? As the coach had carried her away from him and her father had chastised her for their familiarities, it had seemed to her whatever love there was between Will and her would only ever be unspoken and untouched, and she had no choice but to accept it.
Now they were here again, only this time standing together, with no coaches or hesitations between them. And instead of looking towards a future where her hand lay with one man while her heart lay with another, she was suddenly facing a future where both were with the same, right person.
If it was what he truly wanted. While she didn't doubt Will's love for her, the pressure her father had placed on them left little room for nuance in authenticity. And he had given them two weeks to properly think it over...
She turned her face to him, and he met her eyes. She wanted to ask him, to make sure he was thinking what she was, but the words wouldn't come out-her mouth had split into too wide of a smile to speak and she found she couldn't contain it. He beamed back, his smile so full and bright it carved new lines of elation around his eyes. Then she couldn't stand it anymore: she abandoned their walk and threw her arms around Will's neck, pressing him as tightly to her body as her skirts would allow. His arms wound round her back, hands holding her flush to his chest before surprising her by leaning back and lifting her off the ground. She couldn't resist kicking her feet in a fit of excitement before touching the earth with her toes again. They continued to hold each other, her hands wandering across his shoulders and into his hair as his palms and fingers drew long, sensuous paths along her back and across the skin about her neck. No doubt her father would be having a fit, but she couldn't be bothered with caring, not with Will nestling his cheek against hers and swaying her so.
Her heart was racing and her mind was spinning. How could it be that within days she had gone from censures for saying Will's name to her father approving their courtship in the same breath that he blessed their future marriage? Within a year she could be wed to Will-assuming he could establish enough of his independence. The wonder of the thought was difficult to describe. A woman with everything throwing it all away for passion and freedom, a man leaping from his apprenticeship to a marriage overnight-if she had been the daughter of another blacksmith, perhaps it may have been mad but not unbelievable. But she was the governor's daughter, and he was expected to suit her while having nothing. It seemed more and more insane the more she thought about it... Her smile started to transform into a grimace of concern.
"Is it too soon?" she whispered.
"Is it for you?" his breath tickled against her ear, his gentle voice thrumming against her chest in a surprisingly pleasurable sensation.
"No. But…" She felt the touch of his hands grow lighter and move to her shoulders, where they gently drew her away from him so he could read her eyes as she voiced her one, not-insignificant misgiving, "... he said it could take a year before you are even able to…" More thoughts of the demands that would be placed on Will started to swirl through her head, and she began to speak very fast, "You have so much work as it is, Will, and I wouldn't want to burden you with–"
He cupped her face, the pad of one work-roughened thumb coming to lightly trace the curve of her lips, quieting her with the gentle motion. For the second time today, he leaned towards her to gently press his brow to hers in a soothing show of sincerity.
"The chance to build a life with you would be worth any burden I'd have to bear."
From others, such a profession may have only been dismissed as nothing but high-flown hyperbole. With Will Turner she knew it was a pledge to be believed, and any protestations she'd had were whisked away. She was drawn more and more into him-the warmth in his eyes and hands, as he looked at her and touched her so tenderly, spread throughout her in a heady burst and then settled somewhere deep inside of her, burning low and pleasant. The smile returned to her lips, and she found her eyes flitting of their own accord to his mouth with a building anticipation.
"Are you certain?" she teased, moving to openly flirting with him. "I must warn you that I am known for running into pirates at an alarming rate."
The left corner of his mouth lifted in a crooked grin, "Unsurprising, seeing as you're the reason I became one."
"And…" she pressed on, lifting her chin to him in a challenge, rather enjoying their brief moment of banter, "I can be quite demanding."
"Then I will have to strive to give you what you want, pirate adventures and all," he answered, still smiling.
But her own smile changed. While her playfulness had seeped into his eyes and voice, an undercurrent of sincerity could be detected when he spoke to her, and she knew in spite of the lightness of the moment, Will Turner was offering a quiet, heartfelt promise. He knew her, knew that even though her childhood passion for pirate legends had shifted and changed it had not left her. So he would not chide her, would not make her feel her sentiments were "silly" when she looked again out to sea, longing for something greater than a proper woman should. Nor would he shake his head in sympathy and lament all the reasons that longing could not be answered. No, this was a promise that their union would not be one defined purely by their strivings to keep one another alive, but by their joint quest to foster all their joys in living. It was a promise for all she had ever wished for.
"... I want to marry you," she whispered.
The soft and eager sweep of Will's lips upon her mouth gave Elizabeth all the agreements his words could not.
Author's Note:
Hello! It's been a while since I've written fic, and I've been more active on the other site. However, I realized some people still come here for Pirates fics, and thought I'd drop my stories here too.
After DMTNT, and especially since rewatching PotC 1-3 over 2020 lockdowns, I was reminded how much I love Elizabeth and Will, both as individual characters and as a couple. So I began writing stories fleshing them out again, especially after I found there are still very few longer Willabeth fics out there-and a number that I used to read are now gone altogether.
My style for this story is rather long and with a slow start, but I have plans to take it fun places, and to work on some fresh spins on a lot of the tropes that are common for Elizabeth and Will's courtship days. I'm hoping you're able to enjoy their journey!
And if you are enjoying it, please do comment. It genuinely helps me to know that other people are interested in reading.