Chapter 1: Of Sunsets and Letters


William Turner, a silent and stoic figure of a young man, stood knee deep in the 
salt water that was steadily rising as the tide came in. From his position beneath
a stone bridge he watched as the sun sank into the horizon, illuminating Port Royal
and her ship filled harbor. Perhaps if he stared long and hard enough at the horizon 
it would appear. It would start as a small black spot, slowly growing larger until 
you could finally see the billowing black sails of the formerly-cursed ship. The 
Black Pearl. Just the thought of the ship was enough to send an inviting chill down 
his spine.

William smiled a bitter-sweet smile as he watched the sun slip beneath the waves. He 
sighed and wadded back to the tree line and his hopefully still dry stockings and shoes,
though his breeches were already wet to above the knee and it probably wouldn't make much
difference. Coming upon his shoes, which were still where he had left them, on top of a 
boulder beneath a palm-like bush. Sitting on the a-fore mentioned rock, Will struggled to 
pull stockings onto still damp legs.

"Damn it!" He growled as he threw one of his shoes for no apparent reason. Well, that is 
what one would think. He had reason enough to be frustrated, angry even if you wanted to 
think of it that way, but he had no right to take it out on his poor, defenseless shoe! 
Swearing, Will went in search of his ill-treated shoe as the thoughts and memories he had
been trying to avoid flooded to the forefront of his thoughts.

Damn that walk. Damn that insufferably charming slurred drawl! Damn pirates! Will thought 
as he approached his shoe, and again contemplated throwing it, only this time into the sea. 
Some shred of common sense remained within Will's head though, for he picked up the shoe, 
placed it on his foot, and walked towards the road leading into town. He also had enough 
sense to stop muttering about pirates, the Black Pearl, and above all, one Captain Jack 
Sparrow.

A voice that sounded suspiciously like his dear Elizabeth's rang in his head. You're a 
fool, Will! Listen to yourself think! Have you lost every shred of intelligence you ever 
possessed?  You sound like a love-sick fool. Nearly every night for the past, what, three 
months is it now? You have come out here and watched the sunset and prayed for a mere 
glimpse of that damned ship! Its not just at nights either! You're at the docks in the 
wee hours of the morn' `oping that she'll have anchored into port during the night. You 
are a fool, William! A damned fool! Will sighed. Why was she always right?

Fitting his key into the lock of the smithy's door, Will was not entirely surprised to 
find  it already unlocked. His heart fluttered in his chest. I didn't wait long enough! 
They came into port while I was walking home! He opened the door cautiously none the 
less, his dealings with a particular afore mentioned pirate in this very shop had taut 
him to be cautious.  Inside, a figure stood with his- no her back towards him. 
"Elizabeth," he said quietly, hoping that none of his disappointment in finding her 
here rather than a particularly odd pirate who was more often than not a fixture in 
Will's mind of late.

Elizabeth turned towards Will, and even from a distance he could see the tear tracks on her 
face, not to mention her red and puffy eyes. She let out a small cry and practically threw 
herself into Will's arms and she began sobbing anew, quickly soaking his shoulder with her 
salty tears

It was long moments before she was calm enough to answer any of the questions Will was 
biting his tongue to keep from asking. Elizabeth loosened her grip on Will and took a 
step away from him, wiping her tears with a handkerchief and smoothing her rumpled dress 
of some of its larger wrinkles. Elizabeth made her way to the nearest chair and sat down 
with less grace and finesse that Will had ever seen her use. Remembering his manners, will
put on the kettle to boil water for tea.

Elizabeth sat there, as if in a trance, unfolding, refolding, and recreasing a peace of 
paper. Will, curiosity piqued, covered the distance between them. "May I?" He asked 
gesturing at the now-flimsy paper. Elizabeth seemed not to have heard him at first, for 
she continued to stair past Will, as if seeing something that was not there. Then suddenly
 she raised it up and passed it to him. Taking, or prying it rather, from her hand, Will 
unfolded the, upon closer inspection, rather official-looking document.

Will stood there holding the letter shell shocked. Mr. Swann, dead? The denial swelled in 
his breast as he read and re-read the slip of paper. His revere was interrupted but the 
tea kettle on the hearth. Will refolded the paper and placed it on the table next to 
Elizabeth before pouring tea for the both. He moved to sit, and then turned back to the 
shelf above the hearth where a bottle of brandy stood.

Pouring a good amount into each of their cups before re-corking the bottle and placing it 
back on the shelf, Will finally sat down next to Elizabeth, who usually adamantly opposed 
to the consumption of any type of libation, drank her tea, which had far more brandy in it 
that Will's, without seeming to notice or care

"Oh, Elizabeth," Will murmured as her tears began afresh.

"What am I going to do?" Elizabeth asked, her voice broken with tears. She took a few deep 
breaths and stood, a look of cool resolve and finality fixed on her face. "I can not stay 
here, in Port Royal; my house, my father's house, no, the Governor's House is not mine. It 
will belong to whomever their Majesties choose to appoint as the new Governor. I shall have 
to pack." Her voice was distant, and it pained Will to see her like this, but he knew not 
what to do to help her. "I suppose I could purchase my own home here, but it is not proper 
for a lady to live alone without a father, or a brother, or a husband to care for her and 
accompany her when she left the house. I suppose then I will be leaving for England soon. 
My mother and my father both had substantial estates near the coast. It has been dreadfully
long since I have seen my home there. It will be nice to see it again…." She was speaking 
so mater-of-fact-ly and so unemotionally that Will was beginning to feel a sense of cold 
fear flowing through his veins.

"Elizabeth," He spoke evenly, hoping to distract her, but she kept on talking.

"I suppose the Commodore will ask for my hand again as soon as he is back in port. Maybe 
I should marry him, even if he is more of a heartless scoundrel than many pirates I know…."

"Elizabeth!" Will shouted at her, finally bringing her out of her trance-like state and 
back to the present. "Listen to yourself!" Tears began to fill up in her eyes as she 
looked at Will. He took a deep breath and pressed on, hoping to force some logic into 
her grief addled mind. "Elizabeth, do you realize that you just spoke of marrying 
Norrington!" Will's anger and disbelief in what he had heard filtered into his words.

"Oh, what do you know Will!" She sobbed and yelled at the same time. "Do you know what it 
is like for me? Do you? You cannot understand that I will be forced to marry within the 
year or my reputation in society might as well be that of a Tortuga brothel girl! I must 
either return home to England and hope my Grandparents can find me a suitable husband, or 
I must marry someone here!

Norrington is a good match! At least I could stay here!"

"Elizabeth, Elizabeth," Will soothed as he took her in his arms again and rubbed soothing 
circles on her back. "You are right, I do not understand, but I am trying." She continued 
to sob and Will did his best to comfort her.

A thought that had been creeping around in his brain came to the fore front again. He could 
ask for Elizabeth's hand again. He could sacrifice his life and future for her, to save her 
from a loveless marriage to Norrington or some other English lord. Could he really? Could 
he give up his dreams, those dreams that haunted his waking and sleeping moments? Could he 
put aside his longing for the sea for her? Could he do that for Elizabeth? If he did not 
act soon he would think too much on it and decide against it.

"We could marry, Elizabeth." Those words mad it sound so simple, so easy. She sniffled and 
pulled away from Will.

"What?" A myriad of emotions played out in her eyes as she tried to process what Will was 
suggesting.

"We could marry." Elizabeth turned from him but will grabbed her arm and forced her to meet
his eyes. "If it is the only way for you to be happy and free from a marriage to Norrington,
I will gladly do it. To keep you close I would gladly do anything. I told Jack that I would 
die for you and nothing has changed my mind." Elizabeth tried to move again, but Will's grip 
was as strong as the iron he worked with. "Look at me Elizabeth, I love you, I truly do." 
Elizabeth looked and looked hard into his eyes.

"I love you too, Will," she whispered as tears silently continued to fall down her cheeks. 
"But I am not in love with you." She raised a hand to silence his sweet words. "Neither are
you in love with me. We both know this is true, there is no denying it."


"But Elizabeth, we could make it work!"

"No, Will! I will not have us spending the rest of out lives resenting one another for 
being tied down. This is not the life either of us wants."

"But you deserve so much more, Elizabeth!" He reached a hand out to wipe away her tears. 
She removed his warm, calloused hand from her face and held it between both of hers.

"As do you, Will. I know what I am doing. I know what I must do." She smiled faintly. 
"I will be alright. I swear to you." She let go of his hand and turned back to the table 
to collect her letter, which she slipped discreetly into the pocket of her dress. She 
turned again to Will. "Goodbye, Will." She kissed his cheek softly and then she was gone, 
leaving will with a heavy heart and naught but his thoughts and memories for comfort.

***

Chapter 2: Of Dreams or Nightmares


Will's dreams were the one place where he could not escape the thoughts which he tried in 
vein to ignore during his waking hours. The good and the bad mingled in his subconscious 
to produce and project the desires Will constantly tried to keep at bay.

//Images of a man who held himself with such grace and majesty that you had to wonder 
who he was in a previous life. Hair blowing in a sea breeze you could almost taste. 
The sight of him at the helm was enough to make Will's heart skip a beat.

The feeling of chapped lips against his own. Strength and hardness instead of curves and 
softness. Eyes alone that lit a fire in Will's soul that no female ever could.

And then that same regal figure, who moments before was worshiping Will's body was broken, 
beaten, and dissolute as he was made an example of. Will watches on as Norrington orders 
the floor dropped and that once strong, proud man is no more than a broken rag-doll 
hanging from a string.

Unspoken words haunt Will as the decaying form of the dead pirate accuses him of all manner 
of evil and betrayal. Those bonny figures with bits of decayed flesh wrap around Will's neck, 
seeking to destroy his life as he destroyed the pirates.

Tears stream down Will's cheeks as he is left alone in the darkness. No friends, no lovers, 
no one. There is not even the smell or sound of the sea to keep him company. There is no 
sound of bellows pumping, of fire crackling, of the steaming hiss of hot metal being shoved 
into cool water. There is not even the heat of the fire to warm him. Totally and utterly alone.

Again he is adrift at sea, cold, lungs burn with the smoke of fire, the cries of the dying, 
people begging for their lives filter in and out of his mind as he wavers between consciousness 
and the comforting black of oblivion

Then he watches as his body is buried in a cheep pine coffin, no one but the minister and 
the grave digger to send him into the afterlife.//

Will sat bolt up right in his bed, which was in reality was little more than a cot, his 
night clothes were soaked through with sweat, his hair clung to his skin as his eyes 
frantically darted about. It was still fairly dark out, the sky was not even beginning 
to grey with pre-dawn light.

Will took a deep breath and placed a hand over his racing heart. It had been a dream, a 
horrible nightmare where he was left alone, forgotten by the rest of the world. There 
had been no Elizabeth, with her intelligence, scalding tongue, quick friendship and fierce 
loyalty. There had not even been a Norrington to despise or outwit or to even poke fun at. 
But most strikingly, and most painfully, there was no Jack.

"Jack." Will murmured the name aloud, as if saying his name would bring him closer, bring 
him to Will. Jack would never forget him, never leave him to die alone. Jack couldn't do 
that. He couldn't do that because…because Will had seen the way he looked at him. Seen 
that hungry look that was gone with another swallow or two of rum and more flirting with 
the prostitute who propositioned him, or re-checking that damned compass, or even feigning 
unconsciousness from too much alcohol. At the very least Jack wanted his body, at lest for 
one night, at most… "Stop it!" Will commanded to himself in the dark, trying to force his 
heart to listen to sense. But Will was never one to do things the smart way, he'd always 
had this tendency to follow his heart, live in the moment, do idiotic and stupid things. 
Fall in love with a pirate.

Will cursed in a combination of at least six languages, it came from living in a port city, 
you could always learn to say the most vial and unpleasant things long before, if you ever 
did, learn the common `hello,' `goodbye,' `please,' and `thank you,' as he fought to be free 
of his sheets.

Pulling on a loose shirt and well worn dark breeches Will readied himself for another day. 
His thoughts drifted to Elizabeth and their conversation the night before. Will put it out 
of his mind for the moment. He could think in a few moments, he just had to take care of a 
few things first. He pulled his hair back and tied it with a leather thong and slipped into 
his stocking and shoes before moving to the chest at the foot of his bead. Taking a key out 
of some mysterious hiding place on his person, Will opened the trunk and retrieved a wooden 
box, about a foot long and a third as long across. In addition he took out a flat, leather 
wrapped object about the size of his hand. Pulling on his dark, sleeveless tunic-like long 
vest Will tucked the smaller of the parcels inside his vest and tucked the other box under 
his arm before closing the chest and locking it. He frowned. It would have been more 
appropriate to wear all black, but as he did not have clothes that would do, he had settled 
on his most dark and subdued clothes.

Ten minutes found him sitting on one of the piers gazing into the distance as the sun rose 
behind him and his wooden box sat next to him. It was then, and only then that he let the 
previous night overwhelm him.

The man who was almost like a very rich uncle and benefactor to him was dead. Governor Swann 
had paid for him to be apprenticed in the black-smith's trade. He had paid for Will's clothes 
and board until he was almost eighteen, and he would never hear of Will repaying him. He was 
a kind man, and he loved his daughter more than anything, and Will loved him for that. He knew 
the lose of looking ones parents and being an orphan. He had been an orphan for most of his 
life, and he knew well the pain of not having parents there to love and guide, to support and 
even to reprimand. He knew that Elizabeth was feeling this loss keenly and he needed to go to 
her, but he would wait until it was at least a decent hour to call upon her.

She seemed so different last night. It was as if her fire had finally been tempered and she 
was cooling down after many years of passionate exuberance. This thought was not a comfort 
to Will. Where was the girl who longed to see pirates? Where was the young woman who would 
sacrifice her life for his? Where was his best friend? She seemed resolved to a woman's lot 
in life…She had even mentioned marrying Norrington. That alone unnerved him, and in and of 
its self would have made Will question if she was in her right mind.


I asked her to marry me! That shocked Will. He was surprised that he had done such a thing! 
And even more so that Elizabeth had said no. Her reasoning was so sound that it hurt.

They had tried to make it work between them not long after Jack left, but they both realized 
that what they felt for each other was the strongest bond of friendship combined with 
fantastical idolatry. It was the innocent love of childhood, but it did not contain the 
passion of lovers. When they kissed there were no sparks, there was no heat or longing. 
They were not meant to be, and after much anxiety and fear that the other felt something 
that they did not, they confessed in a rushed jumble of words the same thing – there was 
no hint of passion between them. They laughed about it afterward, and in the end, their 
failed romance seemed to seal their friendship.

The sun began to warm Will's back and he decided that he had waited long enough; he would 
hence to the Governor's Mansion and to Elizabeth, who Will knew must be hurting something 
dreadful.

Upon arrival at the Governor's Mansion, Will was surprised to find the whole of the 
household already awake and busy. Will was welcomed in and stood gaping in the foyer as 
servants rushed around. Elizabeth appeared at the top of the stairs looking drawn and 
tiered, as though she had not slept at all, and Will highly doubted that she had, or if 
sleep had come to her it was fitful and unrestful.

"Will!" She called as she hurried down the stairs, ignored propriety and embraced him 
briefly. Even in her black mourning colors she was still stunning to behold. Her hair 
was done up more firmly than usual and it lent her a more aloof and removed appearance 
that her usual warm and welcoming demeanor.

"Elizabeth," Will smile at her.

"Come, have breakfast with me." She seemed to have forgotten all her etiquette, it was 
not proper for a blacksmith to dine with the Governor's daughter! But Will could no more 
deny her then he ever could and nodded in acceptance.

Over breakfast I gave her the two parcels I had carried with me. The larger of the two 
contained a dagger, a light and fine piece of craftsman ship. "While I cannot be there 
to protect you, just knowing that you have a good dagger to defend yourself with is 
encouraging." Will had taught her how to use a dagger years ago, telling her that it 
could not hurt for a woman to know how to defend herself. She already carried a small 
dagger in her boot, but this one was of higher quality, and of superb craftsmanship.

"Thank you, Will," her voice was filled with sadness as she took the other parcel and 
unwrapped it. It seeped to be a lovely set of fine hair pins, but upon closer inspection…
"Will!" Her feigned indignity made Will laugh. Not only had he taught her to defend herself 
and fight with a dagger, but he had taught her to pick locks, and these hair pins were 
merely fancy lock picks disguised as hair pins. Will grinned.

"You never know when you'll get kidnapped by pirates." He winked. "Besides, ye did a fine 
job of letin' yer self in to me own home last night." He imitated a stereotypical pirating
voice as he smirked at her.

"Thank you, Will." This time she meant it. She inspected the `hairpins' carefully. "You 
have a knack for the fine work of jewelry as well as your talent for fighting tools. I'm 
impressed."

Their conversation slowed after that, at least until Will inquired as to what the house-
hold was doing. It seemed that she would not let herself mourn. She was throwing herself 
into work, which for her at the moment was the packing of all necessary items in the house
and the sale of the items she would not be taking with her to England. She would work both 
herself and her servant to exhaustion just to ward off the pain of loss. Will understood 
but still felt a great swell of compassion for Elizabeth's serving staff.

Elizabeth's hand shook as she tried to pour Will tea, and Will pretended not to notice. 
She would not meet his eyes and eventually Will stopped trying to catch them.

He had intended to return to work that morning, but he decided to remain with Elizabeth 
as a steady stream of callers came to give her their condolences, and on the way out it 
was not an uncommon sight to see them speaking to Thomas, the head of the house servants 
who was in charge of the sale of the items within the home. Elizabeth seemed to wither 
as the day wore on to the point where, by dinner Will told the servants she would not be 
receiving any more callers for the rest of the day.

Will said goodbye to Elizabeth and she barely acknowledged that he was there. The servants 
looked on with pity in their eyes and exhaustion in their bodies.

I returned home to a shop filled with half-finished orders that would need to be taken care 
of in the morning. There would be no sunrises or sunsets to watch until he was caught up, 
but first, Will needed sleep. Striping off his stockings, shoes, vest and shirt Will fell 
into bed, hoping that if his dreams were going to haunt him, he hoped they were the pleasant 
kind that when he woke it would be to wet sheets and longing or to painful desire and a need 
for fulfillment. Either one was better than the hollow, empty, alone and scared feeling that 
he had awoken with that morning.

//Again Will's subconscious brought horrors mixed with fantasy to life. The rotting skeletal 
form of Jack Sparrow took Will in his bony arms and they danced while Jack poured bitter 
poisonous words into Will's ear. Words like `unworthy,' `dirty,' and `traitor' spun in Will's 
head.

They were no longer dancing, they were sitting on the battlements of Port Royal watching an 
execution below. There were two being hung – Jack and…himself! Will watched as the nooses 
were slipped around each of their necks. Jack turned his head to Will, an expression of the 
deepest emotion, an expression of love was openly given to Will who, upon feeling such a 
heated gaze turned from where he was staring to look back at Jack. It was a mutual heated 
look of love and forever. They needed no words to express how they felt, it was visible to 
all who were there to watch.

The Will sitting on the battlements felt his heart constrict in his chest. His greatest 
dreams and nightmares were being combined in ghastly ways. He looked over to where the 
other Will's gaze had originally been; there stood Elizabeth, her arm firmly in the grasp 
of Commodore Norington. Norington gave the command to let Jack fall and the Will on the 
battlements could hear both his own voice and the voice of the soon-to-be-hanged-as-well 
Will screaming. The cries of Elizabeth Norrington could be heard as well.

They waited before hanging Will as well, they let him watch as his lover, whose neck had 
unfortunately not broken upon release struggle for air as his face turned red-purple with 
too much blood as he was strangled to death. The Will on the battlements felt his heart 
cry out in pain, and then he watched as the Will on the gallows died. He could feel the 
life draining from himself and when he looked down, the Will on the battlements was just 
as skeletal as his companion.

Will and Jack, two damned souls – living skeletons danced in the light of the moon.//

***

Chapter 3: Of Unexpected Happenings and Farewells


Again, Will woke with a start, his heart was racing and his clothes sweated through.  It 
was not anywhere near dawn, yet Will knew he would get no rest full sleep that night.  
Will splashed some cool water on his face and left his bed without looking back at it, 
afraid that his dreams, his nightmares, were real. 

Will could almost feel the ghostly touch of the damned Jack who waltzed him into oblivion.  
Will shuddered, though not from cold, as he slipped his work clothes on.

Firing up the forge, Will stoked the fire until it was the proper temperature to heat the 
metal he would be working with.  Will let himself go as he concentrated on working the steel 
of the sword blade.  Hammering his emotions into every piece he worked on.

It may have sounded strange, but Will liked to compare particular tasks to different people 
and by concentrating on thoughts about that one person in particular it seemed to make the 
time pass quicker and his work was more thorough.

His hatred for Norrington was hammered into every link of the shackles and irons he worked, 
hoping with a perverse desire to see him shackled and behind bars without the leverage to 
save him from the bonds he deserved to wear.  Will silently swore that he would never let 
Norrington marry his dear Elizabeth, for he would kill him before they could say their 
wedding vows.  But it wasn’t just Elizabeth, it was Jack.  Will would never allow Norrington 
to lay a finger on Jack so long as there was breath in his lungs and strength enough in his 
body to lift a sword.

Then came the cannon balls.  While pouring the liquid metal for these Will sent a silent 
prayer out to all who would sue them and all who would die from them, praying that his 
soul would not pay with the burden of those lives lost.  

From shackles and cannon balls to every day items, repairs mostly, pots, pans, common 
household things that people often took for granted but were truly the bread and butter 
of his .  Into these Will concentrated on the strength and friendship of Elizabeth.  
Their long relationship was strong and as such Will sought to make his items just as 
strong.

Then came his swords, the thing he loved the most to work on, to create things of such 
grace and beauty. Once his inspiration for swords was his dear Elizabeth, but as of late, 
his swords have taken on an even more perfect design as Will’s muse has morphed into a 
pirate unlike any Will has ever heard tale of. It was the little things that Will would 
obsess over while he worked, the swagger of his hips was beaten into the red hot metal, 
the keen, sleek, and cunning of his ever plotting mind was honed into the blade’s edge.  
The sturdy reliability of Jack’s good friend, rum, was part of the hilt.  The reflection 
of the sun off his earrings and jewelry, and even his golden teeth was interlaced into 
the elegant design work of the hilt.  And over it all was Jack’s constantly cool appearance.  
Even on the dead of summer when the entire crew was half naked, save Anamarie, Jack stood 
proud and tall, a sheen of sweat on his skin, but no sign of the heat that seemed to afflict 
everyone else.  Some of the crew joked and said that it was because he had no blood left in 
him, it had long since been replaced by his beloved rum.  

Whatever it was about Jack that Will thought up went into the sword in his hands and in 
the end, Will would turn out another superb sword.  

Will stepped away from his work.  It was nearing on mid morning and he had not even noticed.  
His old master and still owner of the shop, John Brown, was due to stumble in any moment 
and take up his place in the corner and pass out as he had every day for the past five or 
so years.  Will still had a few minutes to himself before then though, a few minutes he 
could steal away and work on the one piece he longed more than anything to be working on.  

It was indeed something splendid and spectacular he wished it be working on, it was the 
blade he was making especially for Jack Sparrow.  It was much like the dagger that he 
had given to Elizabeth, in fact he had started both at about the same time, but in the 
case of the sword, Will was putting every ounce of emotion he had into it.  While he had 
made Elizabeth’s dagger filled with the strength of their friendly love and sibling-like 
bond, it was not the greatest achievement in his young life.  It was certainly one of his 
best pieces, but his sword for Jack, that would be spectacular.

With a greater eye for detail than any of his other works ever came close to receiving, 
that sword would be the crowning achievement of his life’s work.  The friendship, 
camaraderie, acceptance, trust, well that was iffy, but Will at least trusted Jack, even 
if Jack thought of him as a hot head who never learned to think before he acted, and his 
faith in Jack was all hammered into his work and inlayed in the final details  But in the 
end it was incomplete and Will knew it.  It was as if he feared to finish the sword because 
finishing it meant only one thing, he would have to come to terms with all the overwhelming 
feelings he felt for Jack.  

Will carefully unwrapped the un-finished sword from its place within his locked chest and 
held it in his hands.  The sword had not had a hammer brought to it in weeks, for Will had 
stop[ed just before he finished.  He had begun forging the sword within days of his return 
to Port Royal and Jack’s escape.  But then he had stopped and put the blade away.  It was 
his dreams that scared him into action.  He had watched his inner-self look at Jack with 
the honesty of his true feelings and Will had felt his fear melting away, but it was dream-
Jack’s death that brought it all into perspective.  He loved Jack.  Was in love with Jack.  
That was the missing piece, the missing element.  

Will returned to the forge to find Mr. Brown dead to the world, his snores drowned out by 
the bustling city outside the window and the loud forge inside.  A bottle of something was 
clutched in his hand.  Will wiped his brow with his shirt and set to work on Jack’s sword.

The hours ticked by and will only stopped briefly once for a hearty slice of bread and a 
chunk of cheese to satisfy his hunger.  He did not notice that he was not alone in the shop 
until a voice in front of him spoke in an oily smooth tone that made Will cringe as he 
looked up.  “You’re work seems to have improved as of late.” Commodore Norrington stood in 
front of Will, a look of extreme concentration upon his face as he examined the sword in 
his hands.  Jack’s sword.  Will resisted the sudden urge to snatch it back from the Commodore 
and he worked to keep his voice level and even.

 “Thank you, sir.”  Will took a deep breath.  “Is there something you want, or is this a 
social call?”  Will couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“How much for this sword?” Norrington asked as he continued to look the sword up and down.  
Will felt fire in his soul as Norrington examined the sword, it felt as though Norrington 
was lusting after his woman.  Jack gritted his teeth.

“It is not for sale.” Will put out his hand to demand the sword back.  Norrington hesitated.  
Will met his eyes squarely and Norrington quickly handed the sword back to him.  “Is there 
something I can help you with, Commodore?” 

Norrington sneered.  “As a matter of fact, there is.” He turned and took a step away from 
Will before turning back to him.  “I know that you and Miss Swann have a strong, 
relationship.  I was hopping that you could help me to…persuade her to accept my proposal.”  
Norrington held up his hand to keep Will from talking.  Will’s nostrils flared as he bit 
his tongue to stem the tirade of words saying what he really felt.  “In her sad and 
unfortunate situation, Miss Swann has come to realize just how important a good marriage 
is.  There are none other than myself in the aria who could offer her the sort of life 
she is accustomed to.”

“What exactly is it you would like my help with, Commodore?”

“Why, that is simple, my boy, I want you to convince Elizabeth to marry me.” He grinned 
almost sadistically.  “If you do not, Miss Swann will return to England and be married 
off there.  At least this way you could be near your ‘dearest friend.’” 

Will’s jaw ached from his clenched teeth.  The image of the Elizabeth in his dream struggling 
against Norrington’s steel grip as Jack was hung was fresh in his memory.  His nails bit into 
the palms of his hands.  “Elizabeth is her own person, she can decide for herself who she will 
marry and when.”

“You are as naïve as you appear to be, Mr. Turner? I though you had more sense and a better 
understanding of the world than that!  You are her friend, one of her few, if not her only 
confidant.  She will listen to you because she trusts you.  She will listen to you because 
you are the only person she has left to turn to.”  Norrington stepped closer to Will and 
lowered his voice.  “She is vulnerable now, more so than she has ever been in the past and 
I intend to use that to my advantage.”

“I will do no such thing, Commodore.  I care for Elizabeth too much to lie to her, even if 
it meant keeping her close.”  Will was close to overstepping the his bounds of his station 
and he knew it, but he did not care.  It was time that Commodore Norrington learned that he 
was not an uneducated street-urchin who was blessed with a lucky break in life.  He was the 
son of an educated Merchant’s daughter, Jane Thomas, and a pirate, William “Bootstrap Bill” 
Turner.  Strong blood, good blood flowed through his veins, even if some of it was pirate’s 
blood.  Perhaps it was that which made him so bold, and so reckless.  “I would never 
recommend to her that she marry you.”  There he had said it.

“You, boy, are out of line!  Who do you think you are?   I demand an apology!” Norrington 
was livid, how dare anyone in Will Turner’s position say such a thing to him?

“I owe you no apology, nor will I take back any of what I have said.  I have spoken naught 
but the truth today and I shall not begin to lie now.  I suggest you leave now, Commodore, 
before I ‘loose my mind, and in a fit of jealousy kill the man who wanted to remove me from 
my love’s heart and affections.’”  Will lifted Jack’s sword and pointed it at Norrington, 
who retreated one step.

“You will pay for this, Mr. Turner.  Someday I will see you hang for piracy and I will laugh 
as you struggle for breath that you cannot get.  You are a pirate through and through, Mr. 
Turner.  The old governor was too soft on you.  I will see to it that his replacement knows 
all about your antics this past season.  Just you wait.”

“Get.  Out.”  Will’s voice was dangerously quiet.  Norrington raised his hands in a forced 
air of nonchalance, but his eyes and a twitch of his mouth betrayed his nervousness, and he 
walked out the door.  

“Tha’ wers fair foolish of ye,” A slurred voice said from behind Will.  Startled, Will 
turned to see Mr. Brown half awake and watching him.  “He’ll be yer enemy fer life now, 
mark my words.”  And with that Brown closed his eyes and began to snore.  Will shook his 
head.  

He had slacked off for a day and did not practice his fencing skills.  For the next two 
and a half hours Will constantly drilled himself in the same moves, parry, thrust, retreat, 
advance, etc.  Constant repetitive drills taught the muscles of his body to respond to him 
at his slightest command.  When he fought, it was as though he was always a step ahead of 
his opponent because he had practiced so much.  He soon stripped off his shirt, hot from 
the mid day sun, the forge, and the physical exertion.  

The sun was hanging low in the sky when he finished; sunset would be upon them soon.  Will 
felt the ever constant pull of the sea and he could not ignore it.  Changing quickly into 
a clean shirt, Will was ready to leave.  Jack’s sword still lay on the table and Will paused 
and walked over to it.  He held it in his hand, and almost without thinking he strapped it 
to his side and was out the door.

Shoes and stockings hidden beneath the same vegetation on top of the same rock, Will was 
again under the bridge, in the shadows, watching the sunset and wishing that jack were 
here with him.  His hand continued to caress the hilt of the sword he had made for Jack.  
It truly was a magnificent weapon and had it been for anyone but Jack, Will would have 
bean loathed to part with it, but as it were, now that it was complete, Will wanted nothing 
more to deliver it to Jack at that very moment.  

Will sighed.  It would probably be months, if not years before the Pearl sailed into Port 
Royal again and Will was a fool to think otherwise.  The Pear; would not be coming to him, 
so he would have to be going to it.  He knew what he would have to do, he’d been planning 
it from the day he helped Jack Sparrow escape the executioner’s noose.  The itch to be back 
at sea was growing stronger, and his desire for, and to see, Jack was growing by the moment.  
But Will could not leave until Elizabeth was taken care of.  

The sun had set and Will had not noticed.  “Damn it.”  He muttered to himself as he gathered 
up his shoes and stockings and again hurriedly put them on.  

Instead of returning to his home, Will made his way up the streets to Elizabeth’s, hoping 
that it was not to late to call upon her.  As it turned out, the household was still very 
much awake.

Will entered the house and he felt like he had never been in the place before.  The foyer 
floor was covered in trunks and there was the occasional piece of furniture.  The rooms 
were bare of most furniture and what was left seemed to be only the heaviest and most 
immobile things.  “M’lady is in th’ kitchen.”  The maid curtsied and gestured for Will 
to follow her.

“I know my way, Mary.”  The maid nodded and disappeared.  Will turned a corner and walked 
down the hallway to the kitchen, where Elizabeth sat composing a letter.

“Elizabeth?” He asked hesitantly, not wanting to disturb her.  

“Will!”  She said in surprise.  “I was just coming to see you after I finished this letter.  
Sit, sit, I’ll only be a moment.”  Will did as he was told and looked around at the table.  
There were letters there addressed to everyone from the head of the house hold staff to 
Commodore Norrington.  There was even one addressed to him.  “Done.”  She said finally.  
Will noticed that her fingers were stained with ink when she swatted his hand for reaching 
for her letter to him.  “You’re not to read that until I’m gone.”  Will glared at her like 
a spoiled child who had been told no snacks before dinner, making her laugh.  Her expression 
quickly darkened.  “I’m going to miss that.”

“Miss what?” Will asked in confusion.

“You making me laugh.  Oh I’m just going to miss you Will!”  She launched herself out of 
her chair and into his arms.  She was holding back her tears as best she could.  

“But we still have a little time together,” Will comforted her, despite the tug in his 
abdomen that told him this wasn’t true.

“No we don’t,” Se whispered.  “I leave tomorrow for England, or rather to Virginia and 
then on a ship to England.”  She stood up to gauge Will’s response.

“What?”  So soon?  Will thought that she might be leaving within a week or two, but within 
the day?  

“I found out this morning that there is a merchant who was a childhood friend of my father’s 
in port.  He is sailing to Virginia with the morning tide.  From there I will board either 
another merchant ship or a diplomatic royal ship and travel back to England that way.”

“Is there no other ship?”  Will didn’t even know he was practically begging.

“No, nor is there one who’s captain I trust more, aside from Jack, that is.”  She looked 
at him, her eyes begging him to understand.  

“Oh, Elizabeth, I wish you were not going.”  Will said quietly.  She closed the distance 
between them.

“I must, or I shall eventually have to marry the Commodore.”  She smiled, her eyes over-
bright with tears.  She smiled faintly and pressed her lips chastely against Will’s.

“What?”  Will asked in confusion when she pulled away.

“I had to be certain that there was truly nothing between us before I left.” She explained 
simply.

“And was there?” he asked, already knowing the answer.

“No, there was not.”  She took a breath and looked down at her feet before continuing to 
talk.  “There never has been anything between us, as we both well know.  You need to follow 
your heart, wherever it takes you.”  She looked out the window as if looking towards the 
sea, which was not possible seeing as it was pitch dark out.  “He loves you too, you know.  
He as much told me so the night we were on that island together.”

“Wh-what!?”  Will sputtered, unsure of what to say or how to respond.

“Captain Jack Sparrow is as much in love with you as you are in love with him.”  Will 
opened his mouth to speak but she cut him off.  “Do not try to deny it.  I see it in your 
eyes when ever anyone mention s his name.  And that sword you have strapped to your side?  
You did not make that for just anyone, you made it for him.”

“How-?”  Will did not know what else to say.  Elizabeth smiled.

“Call it ‘woman’s intuition,’” Will looked skeptically at her.  “Or we could just be honest 
and say that Jack was a little to drunk the night he and I were trapped on that Island 
together and said a few things when his tongue was too loose.”  She smiled and kissed 
Will’s blushing cheek.

“Elizabeth,” Will huffed like a bird who fluffed his feathers indignantly.

“Hush.  Lets just enjoy our last night together and talk about all the good times we’ve had.”

“Agreed.”  He smiled and retrieved a bottle of wine, some cheese and bred from the counter 
as they sat down and talked.

Late into the evening they talked, and they were both yawning extensively when it was 
decided that Will should leave.

“Will I need you to do something for me.”  Elizabeth said in her most serious voice as 
Will was about to step out the door.  From her tone alone Will knew she was not joking.

“Anything.”

“Don’t come and see me off tomorrow.  If you are there, I don’t think I can go through with 
leaving.”  Elizabeth searched his eyes for honesty when he responded.

“If I must stay away, I will.”  He smiled sadly at her.  “I guess this is ‘goodbye’?”

“I guess so.”  She smiled and was gathered up into a firm, strong, reassuring hug.  She 
cried and wished the hug could go on forever.  Will hung on, knowing this might be the 
last time he ever saw his dear friend.

“Goodbye, Elizabeth,” Will said as he kissed her cheek lightly, tears shinning in his 
eyes as well.

“Goodbye Will.  Tell Jack I said goodbye when you see him.”  She said the last like she 
knew it was certain, a firm fact of life.

“I will.”  He held her hands, still reluctant to leave her forever.

“Oh!  Your letter!  Elizabeth retreated into the house to retrieve the letter she had 
written for her friend.  She returned and placed it in his hand.  “Promis me you won’t 
read it until I am gone?  Untill my ship has left port?”

“I swear.”  He turned and decended the front stairs.  

“Good.  Goodnight, Will Turner.” She called after him

“Goodnight, Miss Swann” He called as he turned to call to her, not being able to resist 
teasing for old time’s sake.

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me ‘Elizabeth’?” 

“At least once more, Miss Swann.”  Will smiled as he waved and turned again and was gone.

Will was dead on his feat when he walked in the door of the shop.  One good thing could 
be said for exhaustion – he rarely dreamed when his body was this exhausted.  And Will 
did not dream that night, though his internal clock woke him just after dawn.  Will 
hurried to dress and took Elizabeth’s letter with him.  He arrived on the dock that the 
Graceful Maiden had no more than half an hour left from, in fact he could still see it 
in the distance.  He had kept his promise to Elizabeth and had not come and seen her off,
 but he had not yet begun to feel the loss of his best friend.  He still could not believe 
she was gone!

Will carefully unsealed the letter Elizabeth had written and began to read it.  It was 
far shorter than he expected it to be.

Will stood reading and re-reading the letter.  A combination of surprise, amusement and 
anger washed over him.  She had taken her life into her own hands and he couldn’t be 
happier for her, even if that happiness was tinged with hear for a woman alone in the 
world.  If anyone could survive and prosper, it was Elizabeth.  With that in mind, Will 
realized that he wasn’t quite as shocked as he should have been.  

It all began to fall into place.  Elizabeth had always dreamed of going away, of traveling, 
but she thought those would only be dreams for her.  The night she found out about her 
father’s death, she had been too resigned to her fate, Will should have known she wouldn’t 
go without a fight!  

She had been to quiet, like she was planning something!  But will had just brushed it off 
as her packing and getting ready to move, he had not expected her to do this!  

His brotherly instincts told him to steal the nearest boat and stop him, but as Elizabeth’s 
best friend, he stood firmly rooted to the spot.  “Fly, Elizabeth, fly!”  He whispered as 
the ship faded out of view.

***

Chapter 4: Of Sword Fights and Travel


Will stood on the docks for a long time after Elizabeth’s ship was out of sight.  He smiled 
one last time at the open ocean before taking his time getting back to the shop.  He had 
caught up on his work the day before and was not intending to take on any more orders.  
Elizabeth was gone and that meant he no longer had any ties to Port Royal.  He could leave, 
go anywhere he wanted in fact, and no one would care one way or the other.  As soon as he 
received payment for everything in the shop, he would have more than enough money to--

“Mr. Turner,” a cool, slick voice stopped Will in his tracks.  *Norrington.*  The Commodore 
was dressed in his usual uniform. Every hair in his wig was where it belonged and his 
clothing did not even have the slightest hint of a wrinkle.  Will held his ground and his 
hand immediately went to the hilt of the sword -- Jack’s sword -- he had taken to wearing.   

“Commodore Norrington.”  Will nodded to the man, Elizabeth’s words still fresh in his mind.  
“What can I help you with this morning?”  Will let his voice sound tired, listless and sad, 
like someone who had lost someone dear to him; in reality, Will could not have been happier 
for Elizabeth and her freedom was his freedom as well.

“Do not play me for a fool," Norrington said in a dangerously quiet voice.  “I know you were 
part of this!”  He raised his right hand which held a letter written in Elizabeth’s neat 
script.

“I do not know what you are talking about.”  Will took his time to almost melodramatically 
inspect the paper still clutched in Norrington’s hand.  “Well now, that appears to be a 
letter from dear Elizabeth, if I do not mistake her writing.”  He shrugged his shoulders in 
a non-committal way.  “I saw a whole stack of them on her table last night.”  

Norrington looked as though he was about to pop a blood vessel or he wanted to ring someone’s 
neck.  Will had never been one to back down from a fight and Will was in just the mood to egg 
the good Commodore on.  After all, he needn't worry about being good so as not to harm 
Elizabeth’s reputation (which undoubtedly would have been stained had it been known her best 
friend was a bit of a ruffian rather than the mild mannered and courteous blacksmith.) 

 “She gave one to me as well, Commodore.”

Norrington looked as if he was about to develop a twitch in his eye.  “Aye, it is Elizabeth’s 
hand.”  Norrington sneered.  His eyes were full of a firry hatred as he looked at Will.  
“Might we go inside to discuss this matter?”

The gears in Will’s head were working.  Norrington did not want to have this conversation 
in public, which meant that Will definitely wanted to because even if it only gave him a 
slight advantage, it was an advantage none the less. Pirates knew how to take even the 
slightest of upper-hands and use it as leverage to achieve the desired ends.  

“I know of nothing we need to discuss, Commodore.”  Will continued to play the part of 
the confused, exhausted, and melancholy young man who had just lost his dearest friend 
and possible future wife.

“Read this, and then tell me we have nothing to discuss.”  Norrington shoved the letter 
into Will’s hand.  With a sigh and much feigned disinterest, Will ‘reluctantly’ read 
the note, for while it was longer than the one dear Elizabeth had written to him, it was 
full of her biting sharp tongue.

Will nodded solemnly and re-folded the paper and handed it back to Norrington.  He did 
his best to keep his voice even and neutral.  “What exactly is it that you want, Commodore?”

“What do I want?  Mr. Turner, I thought you to be more intelligent than that.”  He 
stepped closer to Will, invading his personal space.  “I want Elizabeth.”

“Well, Commodore, you seem to have a bit of a problem then.  It seems to me that she 
does not want you.”  Will took a step back, knowing that his next words would provoke 
some action from the Commodore, especially when he made no effort to keep his voice down 
low in order to escape over hearing by the gossiping tongues of the locals.  “If I were 
you, Commodore, I would not chase after someone who so obviously does not love me.  A 
woman who would rather marry a pirate or skewer you with one of my daggers than accept 
your proposal does not sound like the trophy wife you seek, Commodore.”

That certainly pushed the commodore into action.  Had Will not been anticipating 
Norrington’s reaction, he would have most likely lost an ear. Fortunately, Will brought 
Jack’s blade up just in time to parry the Governor’s movements and to take a step back.  

“You dare to lecture me, Mr. Turner?  You are out of line, sir.”  Norrington spat the 
last word out as though it was a vile thing.  He advanced and lunged at Will; Will 
parried deftly and moved to the side, his eyes constantly watching Norrington’s torso, 
waiting for the barest hint of muscle movement to betray what his opponent would do next.

“I lecture no one, Commodore, I only speak of facts.  It is not my problem if you do 
not wish to listen to the facts.”  Will lunged forward, catching Norrington off guard.  
If Norrington wanted a fight, Will would give him one.  He knew well the rules of 
fencing, and he had learned that you did not win a fight by defending yourself, you 
merely delayed the inevitable.  

“How dare you!”  Norrington thrust again and Will moved out of the way as the two began 
circling each other.  The clang and swish of two well made swords filled the air.  
Norrington also carried one of Will’s blades, one of his best actually, but it was not 
the spectacular piece that Will held in his own hand.  

“How dare you, Commodore?  Elizabeth does not want you.  She would rather take her chances 
in England than to marry you.  That should tell you something, Commodore.”  Will continued.  
“If you were to go after her,” every few sentences Will would thrust or feign a movement 
to keep the Commodore on his toes.  “Catch up with her and bring her back,” thrust, “I am 
not the only one,” feign, lunge, parry, “Who would protest or help her to get away from you.”

“Still keeping company with pirates, Mr. Turner?” thrust, “I would have thought,” thrust, 
“you would have,” a series of chopping strikes aimed at forcing Will to retreat were dodged 
as Will gracefully maneuvered out of Norrington’s way  “learned your lesson by now.”  A 
feign high as he tried to come in low at Will’s exposed side.  Will, however, was there, 
almost expecting Norrington’s move.

“Pirates are better company than self absorbed Navy men who seek only power and things 
they have no hope of gaining.”  Will moved in lightning fast causing the Commodore to 
stumble and barely block Will’s attack.  

“You are out of line, Mr. Turner.”  Norrington was beginning to sweat.  “I shall have to 
tell the new governor that one of his citizens keeps company with pirates when he arrives.” 
 Norrington resumed circling Will.  He could not defeat the boy with the sword, so he would 
have to defeat him with words.

“A new governor will not arrive for a few months yet and I shall be long gone by then, 
Commodore.”  They continued to watch each other, occasionally feigning but never engaging.

“Ah yes, you shall be long gone.”  Norrington smiled cruelly as he lunged for Wills heart.  
“You shall be dead.”  Will parried the advance deftly.  “I will see you hanged for piracy 
long before the new governor arrives.”  He moved in again to strike, but Will advanced, 
forcing him to defend rather than to attack.  Norrington broke away, his taunts and jabs 
becoming harsher.  “And just let your friend Sparrow try to save you.  I shall have him 
killed as well.  And you will watch him swing before you join him in Hell.”

That was what pushed Will over the edge.  Norrington should have learned by now that Will 
didn’t take kindly to his friends’ lives being threatened or put in danger for any reason.  
But the Commodore seemed to have a hard time grasping this concept and it was high time 
Will taught it to him.

“You have gone too far, Commodore.”   Will advanced on Norrington, tight, measured thrusts 
and lunges, forcing Norrington to retreat backwards again and again.  His blocks were 
becoming hurried and his parries were fast becoming careless.  Norrington tried once more 
to gain the upper hand by feigning left with a sloppy attack towards Will’s shoulder and 
then cutting downward. Will caught Norrington’s blade with Jack’s and forced the blade out 
of Norrington’s hand, pushing the off-balanced and surprised Norrington to the ground; the 
tip of his sword resting at Norrington’s throat.  

“Now, Commodore, you will listen to me.”  Will leaned down towards Norrington, the tip of 
his sword never leaving Norrington’s neck.  “I could kill you right here and now Commodore, 
but I am a better man then you.  I have more honor than you do as well.  I do not attack a 
man when his back is turned.”  Will lowered his voice to a dangerously quiet level.  “Here 
and now, Norrington, you are going to swear to me that you will not go after Elizabeth.”

“Never,” Norrington spat.

“Never is such a long time, even when you do have a sword to your throat.”  Will nicked the 
skin of Norrington’s face and it began to bleed.  Norrington flinched.  Will smiled and spoke 
again.  “I had thought to do this quietly, but it seems I shall have to talk loud enough for 
our audience to hear now.  Pity.”  Will plainly did not believe the last.  He smirked as he 
stood back up to his full height and began to speak loud enough so that his voice carried 
into the gathering crowd.  

“Just think, Commodore, what it would do to your reputation to go after a girl who has 
plainly said she would rather kill you than marry you.  Just think what people would say, 
‘The Commodore wen’ afta d girl an’ she din’ wan’ non’ to do wit’ ‘im.  Forced ‘er t’ 
come back, ‘e did.  Forced ‘er t’ marry ‘im too.  What a fool.’  Is that what you want, 
Commodore?  Don’t be rash.  And as for your blatant threat that I should help you to 
bring Elizabeth back or you would have me killed, you will do no such thing.  You will 
never have the opportunity to hang me, for while I remain in Port Royal I shall give you 
no cause to have me arrested or hanged.  Oh, and just so we are clear, if you ever lay a 
finger on either Elizabeth or Jack again, I shall cut you open from navel to nose.  Just 
remember Commodore, I could have killed you today and I would have been in the right to 
do so, but I did not.  I spared your worthless life today, remember that you attacked a 
man from behind, insulted him, threatened him, and it was you who ended up lying on the 
ground with a sword pointed at your throat.”  

Will spat on the ground, missing Norrington by mere inches, and removed the sword tip 
from Norrington’s throat.  He turned his back on Norrington, did not offer the other man 
a hand to get up off the ground and kicked dirt onto Norrington’s lost blade.  

Norrington used the nearby wall to help him stand and leaned against it for support as 
he called out to Will.  “Where will you go now, Mr. Turner?  Shall you go after your 
‘dearest Elizabeth’ or do you intend to turn pirate and join up with Sparrow?”  Will 
ignored Norrington’s remark and cleaned the blood off the tip of Jack’s sword.  “I hope 
you do join up with that drunken, treacherous waste of a life and worthless member of 
society.  Then I can see you both hanged, side by side.  You will watch as he swings 
from the gallows and this time you will not be able to save him!  You will be strung up 
next to him watching him dance from the hangman’s noose.  Yes, Will Turner, I will see 
you-”  Norrington’s words were cut short as Will threw the blade that had been abandoned 
on the ground directly into the wooden beam next to Norrington’s head, just close enough 
to nick his ear. 

“Commodore, I thought we went over this already -- threatening my friends will get you 
naught but a painful death.  Then again, death might be preferable to the criticism you 
shall have to endure after this.”  Will turned on his heal and began to stride away.  

A livid Norrington moved to catch up to Will, grabbed him by the shoulder, spun him around 
and brought his hand down with a loud SMACK!  Norrington’s palm had made firm contact with 
the side of Will’s face and Will was not one to stand by after having been insulted in 
such a manner.  Will’s right-hook struck Norrington’s face squarely in the eye.  Norrington 
hunched over in pain, his wig slipping from his head as he held onto his aching face.  Will 
kicked the wig towards Norrington.  “Goodbye, Commodore.  I take my leave of you and your 
city.  I shall be gone by ‘morrow noon, in search of my love.”

Will quickly made his way back to the shop and shut the door behind him, thankful to be 
alone.  He sunk down into a chair and rested his head on his arms on the table.  He could 
not believe what he had just done.  He had crossed swords with Norrington and won!  He had 
insulted the man, as the man had insulted him.  Norrington’s insults and threats had cut 
him deeply, bringing Will’s fears about his and Jack’s deaths to the fore-front of his mind.  
If his mind had not been made up before the fight, it was after it.  Will needed to see Jack.  
He needed to reassure himself that Jack was still alive and he wasn’t the rotting skeleton 
that haunted his dreams and nightmares.  And Will needed to know if Jack loved him too.  Not 
to mention that he needed to deliver Jack’s impressive sword to him.  

The sword.  It had served Will well in the fight.  It was truly a masterfully designed piece 
and it flew threw the air as though it had a mind of its own and knew its target before Will 
did.  Will examined the sword.  The folded steel blade was inlaid with gold at the fuller.  
The grip of the hilt was solid and it too was inlaid with crisscrossing strands of gold and 
silver.  Though the pattern was far more ornate and complex than was necessarily popular, it 
would suit the pirate very well.  The pommel was solid gold inlaid at the button with a rather 
large ruby Will had swiped from the piles of treasure at the Isla de Muerta.   The full, swept 
guard was of a firm, yet intricate design and pattern, complete with a handful of black pearls 
set into the outer guard (the loop guard, the crossguard, and the knuckle guard).   Will 
balanced the sword on his finger.  Perfectly balance.

“’Tis a fine sword.”  Will turned and pointed the sword in mention at the speaker.  It was 
Mr. Brown.  He was standing up, with help from one of the beams supporting the ceiling.  
“Will, you have far surpassed the training of an apprentice, and your skills are far beyond 
those of a journeyman blacksmith.  You have become a master blacksmith without my knowing 
it.”  Will had not heard him sound so lucid in years.  He took a leather pouch out of the 
inside of his vest.  “Here.”  He held out the bag to Will, who stood and walked over to Mr. 
Brown and took the bag into his hands, and opened it up.  Inside was fifty Spanish Galleons.  
Will looked up, shocked.

“Sir, I don’t understand,” Will began, confused.

“It’s simple, young William.  Just the swords you have left here in this shop will easily 
amount to as much, and from what I have been hearing today, you need to leave Port Royal 
as soon as possible.  You would not be able to sell nearly enough of what you have by 
tomorrow, so I am offering you a trade, the money for what you have left in the shop, minus 
what you intend to use personally, of course.  What do you say?”  Will had no choice, not 
that he really had any doubts about what to do.

“Agreed.  Thank you Mr. Brown.”  Will smiled and tucked the pouch into his shirt.  

“After all, if you do turn pirate, how many people will want to claim that they own a sword 
forged by the infamous Will Turner of the legendary damned ship the Black Pearl.”  Will 
laughed.  He should have known there was some angle for Brown to make money in the situation.

“Thank you.”  Will put out his hand and Brown shook it firmly.  “Good voyage to you lad.” 
And with that, Brown left the shop.

Will quickly got over the shock of his good luck.  He had not expected to have so much 
money leaving on this voyage, and he was suddenly thankful that he had a well-made trunk 
with a seamless, shallow, fake bottom.  Will took one of the coins out of the pouch, placed 
it in his belt purse, and proceeded to empty his trunk. He placed the rest of the gold in 
the hidden compartment beneath the false bottom, repacked the trunk with all of his belongings, 
before adding his own personal sword (which he would use after giving Jack his sword), a 
dagger, a knife, and a hatchet.  

Will locked the trunk and made his way from the shop to the docks, looking for a slightly 
disrespectful merchant ship whose captain would take him wherever he wanted, for the right 
price.

He spied The Spiteful Donkey, fondly known as ‘the Ass’ by her captain, John Southard, and 
her crew.  The ship was in fact leaving in little over an hour when Will arrived.  It did 
not take nearly as much monetary persuasion to convince Captain Southard to take him to 
Tortuga as he had expected.  The two men shook on the deal and Will vowed to be back within 
the hour.  

Will hurried to the baker’s shop and found Christopher closing up shop.  “Chris!”  Will 
called to him.

“’Ello, Will.”  The slightly younger man with flaming red hair and a good dusting of 
freckles called back. “Wha’ can I do fer ye?”  

“Might you be able to give me an' my trunk a lift to the docks?”  Will tried not to sound 
too hopeful.

“Surely.  I’ll be by as soon as possible.  Dominic should be back with the wagon any time 
now.”  Chris smiled at Will.  ‘This would na ‘ave any t’in ter do wit’ yer fight wit’ d’ 
Commodore, wou’ it?”  Will just smiled at Chris mischievously.  

“Just bring that cart by as quick as you can.”  Will disappeared down an ally and walked 
into the blacksmith’s shop for the last time.  He would miss the place, but not as much as 
he would miss Jack if he were to stay. 

Chris came by a few minutes later and the two hoisted Will’s trunk into the back of the 
wagon for the short trip to the docks.  Chris talked about his upcoming wedding to one 
of the local seamstresses and in no time at all, they were at the dock where ‘the Ass’ 
was docked.  Chris helped him get his trunk on board and two crewmembers showed them 
down below decks to the hammock that Will would use for the next two days.  They returned 
topside and Will quickly said goodbye to his friend.

The ship set sail for Tortuga, much to some of the crew’s dismay.  Will dined with captain 
Southard in his cabin that night.  “What business brings a blacksmith to Tortuga?” The 
captain asked will in what he hoped was a conversational manner.

“I’m looking for someone,”  Will said evasively.

“And, if ye don’t mind me askin’, who might this someone be?”  

“A pirate.”

“A pirate, eh?  There are an awful lot of those down in Tortuga.  One pirate in particular, 
or will any one do?”

“Oh, a specific one,” Will said in a tone that ended the conversation neatly.  

The ship sailed on fairly calm seas for just over two days.  They reached Tortuga near 
sunset.  They docked long enough for Will and his trunk to be let off and then they were 
gone again.

Will bribed a young man to help him carry his trunk to one of the ‘nicer’ inns.  Will 
rented a room for the next two days, and retreated to his room to sleep for a few hours.  

Around midnight, Will woke up ravenously hungry and in need of a drink.  It had been a 
long week and rum, Jack’s poison of choice, was beginning to sound awfully tempting.  
Will took a seat towards the back where he could see everyone without everyone taking 
notice of him.  He gave his order to the serving wench and she returned moments latter 
with a turkey leg and some rum.  Will listened to the conversations going on around him 
for news of the Pearl.  Several prostitutes propositioned the ‘Pretty lad,’ but he brushed 
them off.

It wasn’t until nearly dawn, when Will’s eye lids were beginning to sag from lack of sleep 
and too much alcohol that word of the Pearl reached his ears.

“Aye!  I swear Is seen i’!  Not a week back!  ‘Twer headed back ‘ere, mes thought.  But 
‘twer caught in dat storm de other day.  Ain't been no word ‘bout ‘er since.”

This news made Will ill and he stumbled to his feet, anxious to get to his rented bed, 
to go to sleep and hope that the conversation was naught but a figment of his alcohol-
clouded mind.  Will stumbled into the room and onto the bed that Will did not want to 
even attempt to identify the smells and stains on the bed.  Will fell almost instantly 
asleep.

//The Black Pearl blends in with the inky darkness of the storm.  Sea swells splash over 
the sides of the ship.  Jack stands at the wheel, trying to steer the ship threw the maze 
of endless, impossibly large waves.  Will calls out to him but he can not even hear his 
own voice over the rain and wind.  Lightning flashes in the distance and is followed 
almost instantly by thunder. The storm is coming closer; ever closer.  Will races to 
Jack, but is swept off the stairs by a wave.  

CRACK! 

Lightning strikes the highest mast and sets the black sails aflame.  Will calls out to 
Jack, to tell him, but Jack seems oblivious to it all.  Fire creeps ever closer to Jack, 
and still he seems not to notice.  

BAMM! 

Will feels himself flying through the air before crashing painfully into the inky-water.  
Will fights to get to the surface, his lungs burning for air.  He almost wishes he hadn’t 
made it to the surface when he sees what awaits him.  The Pearl is naught but flaming 
debris.  

Will screams out into the night.

It is day and Will seems to hover above the water.  There is sea, endless sea surrounding 
him.  Jack!  Jack lays almost motionless on a piece of wreckage.  His clothes are a wreck 
and his skin is covered by burns.  His breath comes in jagged gasps.  Will tries to touch 
Jack, but his hand passed right through him.  Will sits there and watches as Jack fries 
in the sun, alone and with no help in sight.  Will feels so helpless.//

Will awoke some time in the afternoon with a slight hangover, which could have been much 
worse.  He raised his hand to rub sleep from his eyes and was surprised to find that his 
cheeks were wet with tears.  His dreams and nightmares had always made real his deepest 
fears, and if his dreams of late were any indication, Will’s greatest fears involved 
losing Jack.  Slowly, Will opened his eyes, squinting to keep out the damnable sunlight.  

Will made to sit up, but found himself hindered.  His hand was grasping the hilt of Jack’s 
sword so tightly it hurt.  It was an effort to command his fingers to release the hilt.    
Painfully Will stretched his cramped fingers and sat up, taking a look around the room.  
His head was spinning a little and he most definitely had a headache.  Will slowly swung 
his feet to the floor and tested them before standing on them.  With a groan and the 
assistance of the bed post, Will stood up.  “Mornin, luv.” And fell over.  

*That voice.  It sounded like…No, it can’t be…* “Jack?”  Will’s voice came out a croak 
as he tried to make his muscles work in the proper fashion and stand up.  

He was abruptly pulled to his feet and came face to face with the most beautiful sight 
he had ever seen.  For a moment, he was sure he was going to faint with happiness. Jack 
Sparrow held him upright with a hand on each of his arms.  Jack’s gold and ivory smile 
shined and his eyes sparkled with mischief.  His hair was held back with its customary 
red bandana, though the hat was missing.   And Will could smell the distinct aroma of 
rum, salt, and unwashed pirate.  “Aye, 'tis me, Captain Jack Sparrow.”  

“Jack!”  Will threw his arms around his friend, his love.  Jack was warm and solid.  
He laughed and hugged Will back.  “You need a bath.”  Will mumbled into Jack’s shoulder.

“Nice to see you too, whelp.”  He released Will and draped his arm around Will’s shoulder, 
causing Will to stumble again until Jack steadied him.  “So did you miss ol’ Jack?” he 
asked with a toothy grin.

***


Chapter 5: Of Conversation and Things Left Unsaid


Will longed to let the truth just spill from his lips.  He wanted to tell Jack that not 
a day went by when he didn’t think of him, and his eyes, and his hair, and his smile, 
and the sound of his voice, and, well, everything!  About the good dreams, which had 
generally involved quite a bit of kissing, groping, and other such wonderful things 
that could be done with a naked Jack, be he sober or not.  And Will wanted to tell him 
about the nightmares, and to promise Jack that he would always be there to save him, 
whether it was a rash and fool hearty statement or not.  But most of all Will wanted 
to let the words of love flow from his lips.  He wanted Jack to smile and laugh and 
then sweep him off his feet, kiss him thoroughly and deposit him back on the seedy bed.  
But Will did none of the things he wanted to, and instead, smiled at Jack as only a 
person in love can, and laughed. 

“Now why on Earth would I miss you?”  Will teased.  Jack raised an eyebrow, and with a 
mock look of shock and dismay, and with exaggerated slowness, took his arm off Will’s 
shoulders and stepped away from the younger man, causing Will to again stumble, as Jack 
had been the one keeping him upright.

“You alright there, luv?  You look as though you could use a bit o’ rum to steady 
yerself.” Jack flashed Will one of his trademark grins as he found perch, leaning his 
back against the nearest wall and crossing his arms loosely over his chest, occasionally 
using one arm to gesture while he spoke.  Will felt as though an entire flock of butter-
flies had taken up residence in his stomach.  

“How ‘bout you an’ I go down stairs an’ I can tell you why you’ve missed me over a nice 
bottle of rum, savvy?”  Jack’s smile never faltered and Will could not help the faint 
blush that painted his cheeks.

“Aye, that sounds like a plan.”  Will smiled and Jack, swaggering all the way, led him out 
of his room and down the stairs to the common room where Will had listened to pirates talk 
the night before.  Jack lead him to the back of the half-full room, right to the table where 
Will had sat the night before.  Will froze.  He could still hear the voice of the pirate 
ringing in his ears. *“‘twer caught in dat storm de other day.  Ain't been no word ‘bout 
‘er since.”* An involuntary shudder rippled down Will’s back as the sight of a burnt and 
broken Jack Sparrow floated beneath him, dying, and there was nothing he could do about it.

“Lad?” Jack asked in a concerned voice when Will seemed to freeze in his tracks and his 
mind seemed far away.  Will did not even hear Jack when he spoke.  Jack looked carefully 
at Will, examining the pale features of the boy.  *He’s no boy, Jack,* Jack reminded himself. 
*He’s a bloody pirate! And the son of a bloody good pirate too!* The look in Will’s eyes 
read as muddy mixture of fear and pain.  “Will?” Jack’s voice lacked its usual carefree 
(or careless, some might say) intonation and Jack sounded quite sober and concerned.  It 
took Jack grabbing Will’s arm to shake him out of his unpleasant reverie.

“What?  Sorry, Jack, my mind must have been elsewhere.” Will smiled, laughing it off, though 
Jack noticed that the laughter never reached Will’s eyes.  Jack’s usual half-drunken manner 
slipped back into place, though his dark eyes were keen and alert, and they were focused on 
Will.

“No problem mate.  How bout that rum?”  With a tilt of his head, a charming smile and a wink, 
Jack signaled the serving wench, who was being harassed a bit on the other side of the room, 
and she came to get their order.

Jack flirted and teased the woman, who could not have been more than a year or two older 
than Will himself, to the point where she blushed like a proper English lady, a fact 
which Will found rather entertaining.  

A frown suddenly creased Will’s brow.  He did not look so much upset but more concentrat-
ing very hard on one thing in particular.  Jack, noticing that his companion’s attention 
no longer was on him opened his mouth to speak and was interrupted by the serving wench 
who deposited two pewter tankards of beer and a sealed bottle of rum on the table along 
with some sort of meat that Jack did not want to examine all that closely.  Jack immediately 
lifted the tankard to his mouth and let the beer slide down his throat as if it were naught 
but water, which Will supposed it was to Jack.

“How did you find me?” Will asked suddenly, his eyes piercing into Jack's almost accusatorily.  
Jack took another swallow of beer before speaking.

“Oh, well, you know,” he used his slightly grimy hands for emphasis when he spoke.  
“There really wasn’t much to it, if you catch my meaning.”  Will obviously did not 
believe Jack’s story, so the pirate tried a different approach: extreme nonchalance 
bordering on boredom.  “You know a little bit of information here, a little bit there.” 

Will raised an eyebrow at Jack as he drank from his own tankard.  “The truth, Jack.” 
Will tried to sound stern, but a smile played at the corner of his mouth, which he tried 
to hide by taking another drink.

“Ran into a merchant ship today,” Jack said almost brightly, and seemingly out of no where 
and for no reason in particular.  Will let him continue, hoping that Jack was not just 
trying to change the subject.  

“By ‘ran into’ you mean you attacked?”  Will asked, surprising Jack with the lack of his 
old accusatory intonation in reference to pirating.

“Not exactly.”  Jack leaned in across the table towards Will, his voice becoming more 
animated (if possible) as he described the encounter.  “You see, we were a bit surprised 
to see a nice merchant ship sailing from Tortuga, and we thoughts we might be having a bit 
o’ friendly conversation with them.”  

Jack paused and looked to Will, who raised an eyebrow but said nothing.  Jack shrugged 
and continued on.  “We came upon them fast and they didn’t have a chance.  A slow little 
ship, older, and no cannons.  Nothing really special about it, it just piqued my curiosity 
why a merchant ship would be sailing from Tortuga, seeing as it’s a favorite past time 
round these parts to torture merchants.  Must’ve been something pretty valuable for them 
to have come within ten leagues of here.”

Will drank deeply from his tankard, trying to stop the combined nausea (for he had a feeling 
where this story was going) and the fluttering that seemed to only increase as Jack spoke, 
caressing Will’s ears with their tones and forcing Will to concentrate hard to understand 
what Jack was even saying.  “Interestin’ name, that ship had.  The Stubborn Donkey.  Didn’t 
put up much of a fight, after all, this is The Pearl we be talking about.”  Jack paused for 
a moment to gauge Will’s reaction, which was masked by the tankard, whose contents Will seemed 
intent on consuming as quickly as possible, ant that alone was enough of a response for Jack 
to continue.  

“Seems the crew had taken to calling her The Ass.  Amusing name.  Well, we searched the 
ship, port to stern, found little of value.  A few bottles of wine, a few handfuls of silver 
-- nothing of any great value.  At least till we searched the captain.  Found somethin’ 
interestin’ there.  Seems he had recently come into possession of a gold doubloon.  Now 
this tale needed telling before I decided what to do with the ship.  And quite the 
interestin’ tale it was.”  

Will Turner was a lovely scarlet shade and he seemed to be able to look anywhere that 
wasn’t at Jack Sparrow, which only made Jack grin.  “He said he’d been docked in Port 
Royal three days back.  Said there was quite a commotion in the streets.  Somethin’ 
about a duel between a tradesman, a blacksmith if I’m not mistaken, and a British Navy 
officer, a captain or commodore, someone of high rank.  Seems the young tradesman won 
the duel, even with the officer fighting dirty.  The merchant captain said the lad who 
won was a fair impressive sight with a sword in his hand.  Fair impressive sight was 
the sword itself too.  Made by an expert at his trade.  Well, seems as though this same 
lad shows up and offers the captain of The Ass a gold, Spanish doubloon in exchange for 
passage to Tortuga.  It seems the captain of The Ass was in some sort of trouble and was 
needing the money enough to take it.  After all, only a fool would pass up an offer like 
that.  When I asked what business the lad had in Tortuga, the captain said that the lad 
only said that he was ‘lookin’ for a pirate, a specific one.’  Fancy that.  Well, now, it 
didn’t take ol’ Jack here long to put two and two together.”  

Will was frozen to the spot.  He wanted to both get up and run as fast as he could out of 
the dimly lit room and to stay right where he was and listen to Jack talk for the rest of 
his life.  His hear pounded in his chest.  He wanted to lean across the table and kiss 
Jack like a saucy and daring prostitute.  He wanted to--

Will was distracted from his train of thought as Jack returned to talking, seemingly 
oblivious to Will’s warring emotions.  “I had to wonder just how many ‘Will Turner’s’ 
there were in Port Royal.  And just how many of them were blacksmiths.  And how many of 
those were a fair hand with a sword.  Or were likely to be using their skills in an 
impromptu duel with a commodore.  And how many of them were acquaintances with pirates.  
It seemed that there could only be one, after all, just how many Will-Turner-expert-
blacksmith- and-swordsmnn-who-is-disliked-by-a-commodore-and-is- friends-with-a-notorrius-
pirate are there?  So we took  what was necessary, left the ship whole and the crew mostly 
unscathed (I was feeling generous today) and set sail for Tortuga.  Looked for the most 
respectable place ‘round here and then turned on the Jack Sparrow charm  and flirted with 
the owner of this here establishment  ‘till I found what room you were staying in.”

Will shook his head and for some reason he seemed to feel a pang of jealousy run through 
his heart.  “You are something, Jack.  You’ll flirt with anything in a skirt to get what 
you want, won’t you?”  Jack took notice of Will’s ‘odd’ behavior and catalogued it in his 
mind for future consideration.

“Nay, you misunderstood me, whelp!  While most of what you said might be true, I assure 
you he wasn’t wearing a skirt!”  Jack smiled brilliantly and Will was entirely caught off
guard.  He blinked at Jack and opened and closed his mouth several times, unable to form 
coherent thoughts and doubting that his ears had heard correctly, while at the same time 
praying that they had.  Jack chuckled and sat back in his seat, enjoying the expressions 
Will was making.

“See, I was telling you the truth.”  Jack looked at Will intently.  Will could not help 
but meet Jack’s intense gaze.  “I’d never lie to you, Will; I may omit the truth from 
time-to-time, but an all out lie…”  Jack let the sentence hang in the air.  Will blushed 
and averted his eyes.  He noticed that Jack absent-mindedly ran the tip of his finger 
lightly around the rim of his nearly empty tankard as the silence between the two grew 
larger and more poignant.  

Suddenly, Jack licked his finger, downed the rest of his drink and picked up the still 
sealed bottle of rum  and stood up, a handful of coins clattering to the table for payment. 
“How ‘bout we find a better place to share this bottle of rum?”  Jack had a mischievous 
glint in his eye.  Will narrowed his eyes slightly.  “It's too nice out for us to stay in 
here all night,” Jack said by means of an explanation.  

Will nodded and soon found himself following after Jack like a pet on a leash.  Jack wound 
his way through the maze of streets, somehow parting the crowd as he went.  It seemed to 
Will that Jack’s charm went into over drive as constant murmurs of “ 'Scuse me,” and 
“Sorry ‘bout that,” were intermingled with smirks, half-smiles and winks.  Will soon 
realized that they were making for the docks, and for The Black Pearl.  Jack walked with 
confidence of a king, the swagger of the local drunk, and the charm of the greatest actors.  

Jack beamed as they came upon The Pearl.  Even without her sails out she was a frightening 
and magnificent ship.  Legend said that the wood of the ship was stained with the blood of 
it’s victims, though Will thought that to be highly unlikely as the sod was a blackish gray 
rather than the brown-red of old blood.  Jack made his way up the gangplank and onto his 
ship, with a greeting to Duncan who was on watch. Will stopped and stared.  It was as though 
a picture from one of his day-dreams had come to life.  Jack stood proudly on the deck of 
his ship, one hand on his hip, the other holding a bottle of rum.  Will felt heat rush 
through his body at the thought of where such dreams often ended up. 

Jack turned to see Will staring up at him from the dock, looking at him and not seeing him 
at the same time.  Jack was beginning to worry about the boy, his behavior that day was 
unusual to say the least, but it did give him a chance to watch the boy without being 
caught.  He watched as Will’s sensuous lips ghosted into a smile and his whole body seemed 
to relax.  Jack could have spent the entire day watching Will, remembering every little 
detail of the brunet who was painted so beautifully in the summer sun.

Will shook himself out of his reverie and looked up to see Jack looking back at him, the 
oddest expression on his face.  The expression was quickly replaced by a cat-got-the-cream 
grin as Jack called to him, “Are you comin’ aboard or will I have to drink this all by me 
onesies?”  Will smiled back at his friend and boarded the ship.  

*How can anyone flop onto the ground so damned gracefully!?*  Will wondered as Jack sat 
himself on the deck and leaned back against one of the masts.  

Will watched as his friend broke the seal of wax round the bottle of rum and then took a 
long swig of it.  Will watched as the lids of Jack’s eyes slid shut to touch their kohl 
darkened mates.  The muscles in Jack’s throat contracted with each swallow and Will himself 
swallowed, though more from nervous anxiety than from anything else.  Jack offered the bottle 
to him a moment later and Will took the proffered bottle.  Leaning against the mast Jack 
was sitting at, Will too slid into a sitting position.  

They passed the bottle of rum back and forth for a bit, neither saying anything, just 
enjoying each other’s company and a bottle of good rum.  The companionable silence was 
something Will treasured, loved, and longed for on lonely nights in the forge with only 
a donkey for company.  He and Elizabeth were not unused to companionable silence, but it 
was a rare thing for them of late, seeing as it was improper for a lady to be alone with
a man, particularly a man beneath her station.  But companionable silence with Jack was 
another thing all together.  You could almost hear the wheels in Jack’s head turn as he sat 
there thinking about something or other, weather that something was which ship they would 
go after next or which verse of the song Elizabeth had taught him, it didn’t matter.  The 
silence was filled by friendship, an unusual one perhaps, but a friendship none the less.  

And it was filled with other things.  It was filled with Will’s desire for Jack.  There was 
only about a foot separating the two of them after all, and it would be so easy for Will to 
inch his way over until…

“So where has the lovely lady gone off to this time that you again need my help to rescue 
her?” Jack’s tone was even, which might not have seemed unusual to the casual bystander, 
but Will knew it was a sign that Jack was annoyed.

“Elizabeth?”  Will asked, trying to decide the best way to go about the conversation 
without saying too much.

“No, the other lass you were willing to risk your neck and turn pirate to save,” Jack 
joked, but it seemed a tad bit forced.  Will wished he could see Jack’s face from where 
he sat, but he could not.

“I don’t know where she is.” Will answered truthfully.  He took a deep breath and continued 
while he still had the courage to speak and before he thought too much about what he was 
saying.  “Governor Swann died.”  The audible sound of Jack putting the bottle of rum down 
between them.

“If that’s the case, shouldn’t I be congratulatin’ you?  After all, when I left the two of 
you seemed rather cozy.” This was not going at all how Will had intended.  He stood up a 
bit to fast and lost his balance for a moment, catching the mast for support and closing 
his eyes. 

“No.  It's not like that.” Will said, his eyes still closed.  

“Is it not?  Then tell me lad, what is it like?”

“We weren’t meant to be together.  We’re not in love with each other.  We never were.”  
Will mentally crossed his fingers and hoped he was doing the right thing.

“Oh really?  I seem to recall the two of you risking your lives to save each other’s 
hides more than once.  I’d call that love.”  Jack had stood up and was now facing Will.

“Yes, I love her.  But I’m not in love with her.”  Will kept his eyes down.

“So you love the girl, but you’re not in love with the girl.”

“Correct.”  Will chanced a look up and saw that Jack was looking rather thoughtful and 
stroking his braided beard.

“And she feels the same?”

“Yes.  She turned me down when I asked her to marry me.  After she found out her father 
died, I mean.”  Will hurriedly added though he wasn’t sure why.

“Stop me when I get something wrong.”  Will nodded.  “So you ask your orphaned friend to 
marry you to save her from marrying a complete stranger or worse yet, that horrible 
Commodore Norrington.”  Jack enhanced his speech with exaggerated words and exuberant 
hand gestures.  “So she leaves Port Royal for… England, I’d assume, and before leaving 
she pissed off the good Commodore enough that he thought he would confront you about it.  
You win the fight and charter a merchant ship to Tortuga to find The Pearl and convince 
us to go after the girl.” By this time Jack was counting off points on his fingers.

“Stop.”  Will said quietly, his voice oddly hoarse.  “Your right on most accounts, but 
not on the last.  Yes I asked her to marry me to save her from marrying Norrington, yes 
she left Port Royal to head eventually to England, and yes, you were right about the 
Commodore and me fighting.  But I did not come here to ask you to help me find Elizabeth!”  
Will’s temper was getting out of hand.  Perhaps it was the rum, or maybe Will was just 
cracking under pressure, or maybe it was his defenses going up; after all, if no one got 
close he couldn’t get hurt.  

Will stepped away from Jack and made his way towards the gangplank.  He couldn’t think 
straight, and when he couldn’t think he had a tendency to blurt things out and to say 
things that he would later regret. 

“Will, come now!  Don’t get upset!”  Jack’s usual drawl was back, which seemed to do 
naught but add fuel to the fire.

“Forget it Jack,” Will was quickly descending to the dock.  “I shouldn’t have come here.”  

Will quickly walked towards the ladder at the other end of the dock leading down to the beach. 

A rather confused and perplexed Jack followed after the apparently very angry Will.  

Will walked quickly, occasionally picking up a rock and throwing it hard into the water.  

Jack kept up with Will, staying a dozen or so paces behind so as not to be hit by one of 
the rocks Will seemed so fond of throwing.  

Finally Will stopped, his breathing was coming in shortened gasps.  Jack caught up to 
Will and stood with his arm leaning against the nearest palm tree.  “If you wanted me 
to go with you on a walk mate, all you had to do was ask.”  Jack sounded sincere despite 
the light tone.  Will wanted to find another meaning in those words, a deeper value that 
meant that Jack truly had feelings for him, but Will couldn’t let himself dream things 
like that.

“Go back, Jack.”  Will sounded almost defeated and that frightened Jack.  Where was that 
fire in the face of adversity?  Where was the firry young man who had put a pistol to his 
own head to save his friends?   

“Sorry, whelp, I can’t be doing that.”  Jack took a few steps towards Will.

“Jack, just leave me alone.”  Will’s temper flared and his hand when to the hilt of the 
sword he wore at his waist.  

“I can’t do that, Will.”  

In an instant, Will had drawn the sword he carried and pointed it at Jack.  “I said, Go. 
Back.”

“And I said no.”  Jack ducked beneath Will’s blade, rolled out of the way and drew his 
own sword as he righted himself.  

The two circled each other, both weary to fight, their desire to not want to hurt each 
other warring with their drive to win.

A few timid, testing lunges and parries they began to fight in earnest, neither gaining 
the upper hand.  Words were the key to Will’s undoing and Jack used that fact as leverage.  
The right amount of pressure at the precise moment…

“Interesting sword you’ve got there.” Those words were just enough to make Will falter 
momentarily; just enough for Jack to use his sword to catch Will’s and disarm him.  

The blade flew through the air and Jack caught it deftly in his left hand, pointing both 
at Will.

“I yield.”  Will said quietly.  Jack returned his sword to its rightful position on his 
person and began to examine the sword Will had been carrying.  

Will watched as Jack examined every inch of the sword.  Will felt exposed having someone 
stair at something so personal to him.  He felt as though Jack was looking into his very 
soul and his eyes were not even on him!  Will blushed and suddenly seemed to find his 
shoes extraordinarily interesting.

Time ticked by slowly and still Jack examined the sword.  Will looked up again.  Jack’s 
hands ran lithely across the blade, from the fuller and forte, across the middle ridge, 
past the terzo, along the foible and then his finger lightly grazed the point, testing 
it’s sharpness, and smiling when he cut his finger on its exceptionally keen edge.  

The way Jack handled the weapon, with such a gentle touch…Will would have given every 
doubloon in the Spanish Maine to have been that sword just then.  To be caressed by 
Jack’s tan, weathered, calloused hands…Will barley swallowed the moan that threatened to 
escape from his lips.  As it was, he was quite glad for the long vest that covered past 
his hips and hid the slight bulge in the crotch of his breeches.  Will flushed again.

“Your craftsmanship has improved immensely, Will.  I have never seen such a well made 
sword forged in the New World.  This piece could rival those made by even the masters in  
Toledo, Milan, and Solingen(1).”  It was respect and perhaps a touch of awe that colored 
Jack’s speech as he presented the sword back to Will hilt first.  “This is a magnificent 
weapon, Will.  It is obvious even to the common layman that this sword is…unique to you.  
Take care of her, she’ll serve you well.”

Will swallowed.  He could feel himself walking on the edge of a knife, careful balancing 
what he said and did.   

Will held up his hands in a gesture that obviously meant that he would not take the weapon 
back.  “No she won’t, Jack.”  Will took a deep breath and met Jack’s confused gaze with his 
intense one.  “She will serve you well.”  

The look in Jack’s eyes was one of surprise, elation, confusion, and denial.  He shook his 
head.  “I cannot take it, Will.’  He tried to pass it to Will again, but Will would have 
none of it.

“But you must!”  Will’s fire and energy were fast returning.  “I mean…It’s yours, Jack.” 
Jack opened his mouth to argue.  “I made it for you,”  Will paused, “it was part of the 
reason I came to find you.”

Jack stared at Will and then back at the sword.  His.  His sword.  A sword that Will had 
made for him.  His heart beat faster in his chest and he swallowed the lump in his throat.  
“I don’t know what to say,” Jack said honestly, eliciting a chuckle from Will, who was 
quite happy with himself for having succeeded in making Jack Sparrow speechless.  “Thank 
you, Will.”  He met Will’s eyes and was happy to see the content look on Will’s face.

Jack grinned and tried a few practice lunges and cuts with his new sword.  She fit perfectly 
into his hand.  It was as though Will knew exactly what Jack sought for in a blade.  Perfect 
weight, balance, length, and the design was just elegant and showy enough to make Jack happy.  

As Jack pranced around with his new sword, thrusting, blocking, ducking and gutting at 
invisible foes, Will looked on.  A sense of contentment and satisfaction filled him.  He 
had mad Jack a good sword, a great sword that would serve him well.  Will bit his lip.  
He wondered if Jack could feel the emotions Will put into every hammer of the steel.  He 
wondered if the gift was enough; though enough for what, Will had yet to figure out.

Jack, grinning still, came up to Will and draped an arm across Will’s shoulder.  “How bout 
we head back to The Pearl and finish off that bottle of rum?  Savvy?”  Will turned his head 
and smiled.

“Sure.”  

Jack took his old sword out of its sheath and threw it to Will, who caught it deftly.  
“We can’t go around depriving one of the best swordsmen this side of the Atlantic of a 
sword.”  He winked and sheathed his new sword where the old one once stayed, his hand 
ever caressing the hilt.  

Will sheathed Jack’s old sword and followed after the crazy pirate who was quietly singing 
the song Elizabeth had taught him.  

The sun was beginning to set and Will stopped to look at it.  After what seemed like years 
of sunsets spent waiting for Jack and The Black Pearl to return to Port Royal, Will was 
finally reunited with them both.  His feelings for Jack had not changed since they were 
reunited, but Will would not do anything to jeopardize his friendship with the unusual 
pirate, even if that meant… “Nearly every day I watched for you, for The Pearl.  Always 
hoping that I would see the ship that was like a nightmare herself, cutting a shadow into 
the setting sun.”  Will closed his eyes.

“You said that this sword was one of the reasons you came here.  Why else?”  Jack was 
suddenly very close.  Will had not noticed that the pirate had turned around and walked 
back towards him.  

He was less than an arm’s length away.  Will swallowed nervously and forced himself to 
keep eye contact with Jack.  “I came back because I can’t deny that I’m a pirate.”  Jack 
grinned at this.  “And,” Will took a deep breath, “I would rather die at your side than 
live the life of a Master Blacksmith.” Will could not bring himself to say anymore, and 
feared that he had said too much as it was.  Jack looked at Will with something akin to 
awe on his face.  

Will stood there, his skin the color of cream in the light of the setting sun.  Much of 
the hair that had been held back by its leather thong had come undone and what was too 
short to be tucked behind his ears fell gracefully into his face.  Will’s eyes burned 
with emotion as he spoke as if he weighed and measured each word before he said it.  
Will’s eyes told of things unsaid: of fire and passion, of raw desire, of lust and perhaps 
even of love.  

Jack closed the distance between them in one step.  He searched Will’s eyes for a moment 
before placing a finger beneath Will’s chin and gently bringing his lips together with Will’s.   

Will’s heart beat uncontrollably as Jack’s chapped lips came in contact with his own.  
The gentle, innocent and chaste kiss sent a jolt of electricity through his body and Will 
found himself wrapping his arms around Jack and pulling them closer together.  Will gasped 
at the feeling, for Jack’s strong, muscled physique flush against his own.  Jack took the 
opportunity to let his tongue gently and deftly delve into Will’s mouth.

Will playfully darted his tongue into Jack’s mouth and they battled for supremacy.  Jack 
seemed intent on memorizing every inch of Will’s mouth.  Beneath the faint lingering taste 
of rum was Will’s own unique flavor and Jack decided that rum tasted far better in Will’s 
mouth than it did coming out of a bottle.  

Will himself was in heaven.  Jack kissed him in a way he’d never thought possible.  They 
broke for air, panting.  Already Will missed Jack’s taste and the feel of his tongue in 
his mouth.  He moaned softly and brought their lips together in a more intense and demanding 
kiss.

Jack pulled away, panting for breath.  Will smiled.  Jack’s lips were bruised a darker red 
as Will imagined his still-tingling lips were.  They were both smiling recklessly and Jack 
laughed quietly.  

Jack leaned over and kissed Will’s forehead and eyelids and nose before lightly kissing 
his mouth again.  “We should head back while there’s still light enough to see by.”  Jack 
said sensibly, though his body sincerely objected to anything that took it away from Will’s 
welcoming body. 

“Mmm,” Will nodded in agreement and reluctantly stepped away from Jack.

They walked in almost perfect silence back to the ship, both afraid that if they started 
talking they would stop walking and start groping, and soon enough find themselves on 
their backs, lying in the sand.  

Not soon enough they were on the dock walking towards The Black Pearl.  Jack strode on 
ahead.  He turned and offered Will a hand to help Will board, despite the fact that Will 
did not need any assistance.  Will threw Jack a heated glance and Jack met it for a moment 
before breaking eye contact.  

“Welcome aboard The Black Pearl.” Jack grinned wickedly.  Will grinned back.

“If I’m staying, I’m going to need my trunk.” Will said practically, trying to keep 
thoughts about Jack’s lips out of his mind.

“I’ll send Kursar and Matelot for it.” Jack said casually as he strode off in the 
direction of the two still mostly-sober crewmen, giving them orders and then returning to 
Will’s side.  “Satisfied?”

“Not yet.”  Will grinned.

“We’re going to have to remedy that.”  Jack laughed as he led the way to his cabin.

*

Chapter 6: Of Actions and Mutiny


The door to Captain Jack Sparrow’s quarters was barely shut when Will found himself 
roughly pushed back into said door.  The gentle kisses they had shared on the beach 
were morphing into demanding, passionate lip-locks that cried out for more.  Jack pressed 
his body full against Will’s, then roughly rubbed their groins together.  Will gasped.  
The fact that Jack was just as hard as he made him groan into Jack’s mouth.

It wasn’t enough to just be pinned to a wall with Jack pressed against him; Will needed to 
feel Jack’s naked flesh.  Will’s hands pawed at Jack’s clothes, uncertain where to begin 
in the process of undressing his companion.  Jack seemed to sense Will’s frustration as 
well as his desire.  Jack trailed kisses along Will’s jawbone and to his ear.  Jack’s 
warm tongue lightly traced the shell of Will’s ear and the younger man groaned.  

Jack’s voice was little more than hot air caressing Will’s ear.  “How 'bout we move this 
to the bed?” A pleasurable shutter ran down Will’s spine.  

“Aye.” Will managed as a shaky reply.

“Good.” Jack stepped away from Will, much to Will’s displeasure, and divested himself of 
his vest, belt, boots and effects.  Will’s eyes were riveted to Jack’s fingers as he worked.  
Jack was now clad only in well-worn shirt and pants that did little to conceal his arousal.  
Will licked his lips and swallowed repeatedly.  He longed to kiss and lick every inch of the 
pirate, particularly that bit of flesh exposed by this untied shirt.   

“You like what you see, whelp?” Jack teased.  Will could not move, could not even manage a 
tiny ‘yes,’ and replied with only nods that spoke volumes.  They told of desire and longing, 
and an insatiable hunger.  

Jack chuckled at Will’s sudden inability to move or speak.  Jack took pity on Will and 
approached him again.  Jack met Will’s hot gaze and grabbed Will by his belt, pulling 
Will towards his bed.

Will was so absorbed in the depths of Jack’s hazel-brown eyes that he was surprised to 
suddenly feel a bed pressing against the backs of his legs.  Jack pushed him playfully 
and Will fell backwards.  

Jack stood back and watched as a surprised Will sat up and glared at him.  Jack just 
smiled mischievously, leaned over, and kissed Will lightly.  Will put his hand at the 
back of Jacks head and pulled him down into a deeper kiss, tongues sliding across each 
other in an elegant battle where there was no victor or conquest.

Without breaking the kiss, Jack maneuvered them both onto the bed fully and straddled 
Will’s hips.   

They broke for air and Jack began deftly unbuttoning Will’s quilted jerkin.  Jack 
lightly pushed Will’s hands away as they moved to help.  Will tried to meet Jack’s 
eyes, but Jack appeared to be preoccupied with his task of disrobing Will. 

Will loved the feeling of Jack’s weight on top of him, undressing him.  With marginal 
effort on Jack’s part, he removed Will’s jerkin, belt, and shoes, all of which were now 
haphazardly piled on the floor next to the bed.  

Will took the advantage of Jack being slightly distracted and off balance from removing 
Will’s shoes to reverse their positions, pinning Jack’s wrists to the bed beside his head 
with a grin.  

“Do as you like, whelp.  I’ll not break.” Jack’s twinkling eyes met Will’s, and Will saw 
the naked desire in them.  While Jack seemed to be at his usual, carefree but in control, 
his eyes spoke differently.  Will could feel the fire in them slowly burning off the 
façade that was normally in place.  Will grinned recklessly.  He would make Jack forget 
everything, and he would see the naked, unguarded emotions play across the pirate's face, 
and he would make him scream.  

Jack noticed the almost calculating look on Will’s face and raised an eyebrow in question, 
but the question died there because Will brought his lips down to tease Jack’s.  Will lay 
his body down on Jack’s and gently rolled his hips into the pirate's.  Jack growled and 
Will brought their hips together once more.  

While his hips set an excruciatingly slow rhythm of near torturous friction, Will’s 
hands untucked Jack’s shirt and brought it up over the pirate’s head.  Will bit his 
lip to keep from moaning at the sight of the half-naked man before him.  Jack’s tan 
and well-defined muscled torso was smooth beneath Will’s roaming hands.

Will was almost drooling over the possibilities before him.  He started by kissing down 
from Jack’s mouth, suckling at the hollow of his throat, before moving further down, 
teasing with feather light kisses, gentle nips at Jack’s skin, and soothing laps of his 
tongue against abused flesh.  Will pinched one of Jack’s nipples, making the pirate 
squirm beneath him.  Will teased Jack's other nipple to harness before gently lapping at 
each pert nub in turn.  Short, barely there caresses, long, languid strokes, every action 
teasing Jack, making the pirate wonder just what else Will could do with that tongue. 

Jack groaned as Will’s hand dipped between his thighs and slid up until it rested on the 
cloth covered bulge in Jack’s pants.  Jack seemed to be holding his breath, waiting for 
Will’s next move.  Will’s hand firmly grabbed Jack through his clothes.

Will could feel Jack becoming harder in his hand and he grinned.  

Will apparently wasn’t moving fast enough for Jack’s tastes, and soon found himself on 
his back on the bed again.  Jack grinned down at Will, his wild hair a bit more mussed 
than usual, hung down around Jack’s face, giving him a darker, more mysterious look.  
Will gulped.  Jack’s weight on top of him was comforting in the way no woman was.  Will
had paid for a whore’s services on occasion, and had bedded a few of the local girls as 
well, but nothing compared to Jack.  Jack was all muscle and tanned skin.  He was firm 
and hard - Jack’s thrust reminded him.

Jack’s hands seemed to be able to be everywhere at once – caressing Will’s skin, teasing 
brown nipples, depriving him of his shirt… Not that Will would have complained.  He was 
in heaven, pure and simple.  Jack's hands and tongue were almost tormenting in their 
incessant assault on Will’s writhing body.  

When Jack’s hand slipped to the buttons of Will’s breeches, intent on following the 
light trail of hair on his abdomen to its still hidden source, Will froze.  Jack, 
fearful that he had gone too far too fast, froze as well.

“Do you want this, Will?”  Jack asked, his voice husky, his words seeming to take longer 
to pronounce.  Will, breathing in short, shallow breathes, nodded.

“Yes.”  The croaked reply was full of the painful need for release.  Will looked at Jack 
as if to say ‘if you stop now I will run you through with your shiny new sword and baptize 
it with your blood.’  The verbal and nonverbal responses clear, Jack proceeded to unbutton 
Will’s breeches and slip his hand beneath Will’s linen underpants.  

Will gasped.  Jack’s hand, Jack’s hot, calloused, and slightly rough hand was gently 
stroking him -- Petting was more like it.  Will grew painfully hard at Jack’s feather 
light touch.  Will growled at Jack, his verbal skills apparently limited to muttered and 
growled obscenities in a variety of languages.

“FUCK!” Will cried out as Jack released Will’s enlarged member from its cloth confines 
and wrapped his fist around it.  Someone else’s, Jack’s hand was pumping him, putting 
pressure in all the right spots, thumb teasing the now weeping slit.  This was Jack, 
not some whore or drunken sailor, or even himself who was pleasuring him.  This was the 
handsome and devilish pirate who was dragging him over the edge.

“I…can’t.”  Will panted, trying to get his point across.  Jack just grinned and sped up 
his pace.  “Shit!”

Will’s hands were balled into the sheets below him. His hips thrust uncontrollably into 
Jack’s pumping fist.  Jack’s other hand moved up to toy and tease Will’s already erect 
nipples.  Will gasped and moaned. 

Will could not hold on any longer and let himself go with a strangled cry.  Warm, 
sticky liquid covered Jack’s hand and Will’s stomach.  Will’s breathing was coming in 
shallow, shaky gasps, which wasn’t addled by the fact that Jack was idly drawing 
patterns in the sticky mess on Will’s stomach while waiting for the young man to recover.

Will loved the feeling of Jack’s fingers idly dancing across his abdomen, occasionally 
tickling his sides.  With a satisfied smirk, Will sat up and brought his lips together 
with Jack’s.  Things were just beginning to heat up again when something crashed above them.

Jack pulled away from Will reluctantly, and put a hand to Will’s lips, warning him to be 
quiet.  Jack  listened intently to be sure that the noise they’d heard had been naught but 
an intoxicated brawl.  Silence.  Jack waited another minute, just to be sure, and then 
returned to kissing Will thoroughly.

The crack of breaking wood, the smash of some sort of pottery or glass, and the faint noise 
of scuffle above decks caused Jack to break their kiss again.  Jack growled, “I’ll kill 
‘em,” and pulled away from Will again, annoyance and anger flared in his eyes.  Jack stood 
up and hastily searched for his shirt on the floor of the cabin in the dim room.  Swearing 
a bit, Jack found his flint and steel and lit a candle to see by.  

This was not the wisest choice fore the captain to make if he actually intended to leave 
the cabin any time in the near future.  Will’s relaxed form was now lit by the gentle 
candlelight, extenuating and highlighting Will’s entire body, making Jack long to explore 
and memorize every inch of light and shadow.  The fact that Will lay there open and 
exposed did not help him any.  All Jack wanted to do was saunter back over to Will, 
strip them both of every stitch of clothing and then take him!  Jack’s erection strained 
against his pants once again, and it was a supreme effort on his part to make his body obey 
his commands of *Later!* and *Not now!*.

Jack straightened his shirt and was strapping his belt and effects on when the barely 
muffled noise of a gunshot blast came through from the deck above.  “Bloody hell!  
What are those drunken bastards doing?”  Jack was stuffing his feet into his boots 
when a hasty knock began on his door.  

Jack glanced over at Will, who was trying to button his pants and pull on his shirt at the 
same time.  Jack smirked faintly and moved towards the door, opening it without pause.  He 
caught AnaMaria’s fist in his hand when she made to continue knocking on the now open door.

“This had best be good, Ana,” Jack warned her in a dark tone Will had never heard before 
from the pirate.

“Are you deaf Jack?  Or just stupid?”  AnaMaria obviously did not like the tone Jack had 
taken with her.  “I’m not daft enough to disturb you w’ out reason, Captain.”  She glared 
at Jack and glanced into the room.  She arched an eyebrow at Will, but held her tongue for 
the time being.  She returned her sharp gaze to Jack and met his eyes squarely.  “It seems 
that Crimp has tried to stage a mutiny.”

Jack was livid.  His mouth was set in a grim line and his nostrils flared.  “No one will 
take The Pearl from me again.”  Jack’s hands went to the hilt of his new sword and to the 
butt of his pistol.  He glanced over his shoulder to see that Will was behind him, buckling 
his belt. 

Jack pushed ahead of AnaMaria and made his way to the upper deck where the ruckus was 
occurring.  Jack muttered curses about his mutinous midget crewman.  Will caught things 
like: “bootless, foot-licking urchin-snouted barnacle!” and “lumpish half-faced maggot 
pie!” between threats of decapitation,  disembowelment, and other equally pleasant means 
of death.

When the three emerged on deck, there was chaos everywhere.  Will noticed that Cotton and 
Gibbs were tied to the main mast and gagged.  Moises was keeping a sword pointed at them, 
but he was being relentlessly attacked by Cotton’s parrot, who squawked “Polly want a 
cracker?” as he flew at Moises aiming to scratch his eyes out with his claws.  Kursar and 
Matelot were struggling to fend off Tearlach, Duncan, and three others Will did not 
recognize as being crew members.  Ladbroc lay in a pool of his own blood at the bottom of 
the stairs.  Crimp and Quartetto, as well as another five scoundrels Jack recognized only 
as hired thugs with swords, stood back, watching the scene from a ways back.

Jack was livid, to say the least.  No hint of his usual personality remained.  Will, 
with his sword unsheathed, made for the outnumbered Kursar and Matelot.  Jack made 
directly for the mutineer Crimp and AnaMaria went to free cotton and Gibbs.  

Will killed the first man quickly.  They were so absorbed with their fight and their 
taunts that they did not even notice Will’s approach.  Will dispatched Tearlach with a 
dagger to the heart.  Kursar subdued another of his attackers and when the third unknown 
attacker died at AnaMaria’s knife blade, Duncan surrendered.  

Will turned.  Jack was deftly fighting two rather large opponents, whose size and brute 
strength made up for their simple swordsmanship.  Will hurried to Jack’s side.  They fell 
in time with each other and it was as though they could anticipate each other’s moves.  
It had been like that in Port Royal when Jack escaped the second time.  It was a unique 
feeling.  Will knew that if he moved left, Jack could move right, keeping their backs to 
each other.  

Will was suddenly caught in a situation he could not remedy fast enough.  One of the 
brute’s had brought his cutlass down against Will’s blade and pressed down until their 
blades were crossed uselessly at the hilt.  The brute pushed all of his weight onto Will 
and despite his years as a blacksmith, the other man was taller by half a foot and at 
least fifty pounds heavier.  Will could feel his muscles straining.  Sweat poured down 
his reddened face as he fought to stay alive.  If he gave in, the brute’s sword would 
crash down into his collar bone, most likely shattering it, forcing Will to die a very 
slow and painful death if the blade did not kill him initially. 

Will could feel himself using the very last of his strength.  His knees were locking and 
his arms were trembling from the strain.  Will was resigning himself to his fate when the 
weight he was pressing against was suddenly gone.

Will stumbled forward, barely have enough time to drop his sword and catch his weight on 
his hands as he fell.  Panting, Will looked up to see Jack fighting with the brute that 
had nearly killed Will.  The large man’s right arm hung uselessly by his side, shirt 
stained crimson with large amounts of blood.  Other cuts on his chest poured forth crimson 
liquid.  A deep cut to the brute’s side, sent him howling.  He dropped his sword and 
clutched his side.  Jack was on the man quickly, killing him before he man even knew what 
was happening.

Jack’s head turned quickly to Will, beads clinking together at the fast movement.  Jack 
was plainly worried about Will’s condition as he moved away from the dead man and towards 
Will.

“Heart still pumpin’ there, luv?”  Jack’s grin was back in place, but Will was touched 
by the obvious worry he had caused Jack.  Jack’s hands were gentle as helped Will to 
his feet.

“Yes.”  Will said, though it was only somewhat convincing, causing Jack to look at him 
dubiously, eyes searching the younger man’s body for any not-so obvious injuries.  “You 
saved my life, Jack.”  Will said seriously.  Jack, brushed it off.

“You saved my life, I saved yours.  We’re square.” He winkled at Will.  “In that respect 
at least.”  Will blushed at the obvious innuendo.

A barrage of insults broke the gaze that was steadily heating up between Will and Jack.  

They turned to see AnaMaria kick Crimp who was lying on the deck, hands bound behind his 
back.  She spat at him, and hit him squarely in the eye.  Jack, falling into his role as 
captain, strode towards what was left of the mutineers.

“Crimp, lad, I’m disappointed.  You really though you could take my ship with naught but 
a few hired thugs?  Twenty or so and you would have at least had a fighting chance!”  
Jack bent down low and spoke to Crimp alone.  “You should have thought twice about goin’ 
against your Captain.  ‘Twas not a smart idea.  Now you’ll get a chance to see what I do 
to mutineers; I’m sure you’re just going to love every minute of it.”  Jack stood back 
up, anger clearly painted on his face.  

Jack signaled to some of his remaining crewmen, Cotton, Kursar and Matelot, to take Crimp 
and Quartetto, who was suffering from a gunshot wound to the shoulder, bellow decks and 
put them in the brig.   

“What do ye want us t’ do wit’ the rest of them?” Gibbs asked Jack.  

Jack grimaced at the sight of dead bodies all over his deck.  “Throw all but Ladbroc 
overboard, the Tortugans deal with the stench of bloated dead corpses come morning; 
I’ll not have their stench aboard my ship!  Wrap Ladbric up and we’ll burry him at sea.”  
Gibbs nodded and turned to go.  “And see if you can find us a few more trustworthy crewmen.  
We leave with the tides tomorrow.”

Jack walked over to where Will was standing, looking off into space.  “Distraction handled.  
Simple as that!”  Will looked up and smiled at Jack.  

“How about we head back in and pick up from where we were?”  Will said quietly.  Jack gave 
Will a look that made him blush and made his heart beat faster.

“Go back inside, I’ll join you in a moment.”  Will, his weariness forgotten, made his way 
to Jack’s cabin, swaying his hips in an inviting move as he did so.  Jack cursed the effect
Will was having on him and went in search of his quarry.

Amazingly, Jack found the bottle of rum he and Will had been sharing earlier, still where 
they’d left it.  Jack picked it up and grind mischievously and began to whistle. 

“AnaMaria,” Jack called to his first mate, who was helping Gibbs throw a corpse over the 
side, “The Pearl is yours.”  And with that a wink, and a smirk, Jack followed Will into 
the captain’s cabin.  

Jack was pleasantly surprised to find Will lying naked on the bed.  Will was propped up on 
his elbows and one leg was bent, showing off the faint curve of his ass.  As bold as he 
appeared, Will’s face was a deep shade of scarlet and one of his hands fidgeted.  

Jack closed the door and walked over to Will, his eyes eating up the site before him as he 
did so.  He sat lightly on the edge of the bed, his clothed leg gently resting against Will’s 
naked one.   

Jack lifted the bottle of Rum to Will’s lips and Will swallowed greedily, a tiny trickle 
slipping out of the corner of his mouth.  Jack pulled the bottle away and let his tongue 
catch the errant droplet of rum as it slid down the salty skin of Will’s neck.  He followed 
the droplet's path with his tongue until he was at the corner of Will’s mouth.  Will turned 
his head ever so slightly and sucked Jack’s tongue into his mouth.  

“I’m beginning to fall in love with that mouth.”  Jack said as he pulled away from Will’s 
demanding kiss.  Will just grinned.

“Is that all your falling in love with?”  His voice was as calm as he could make it.  
Will’s hand began to undo Jack’s belt, ‘accidentally’ rubbing his crotch along the way.

“Mmm.”  Jack moaned.  “Oh, and the language that came out of the pretty little mouth.”  
Jack grinned.  “So dirty, so unrefined.”  Jack lightly ran his fingernails over Will’s 
bare chest.  “And. Oh. So. Very. Hot.” Jack punctuated each word with a kiss to some 
part of Will’s face.

“We’ll have to see what else you can teach me to do with my ‘pretty little mouth’.”  
Will’s eyes sparkled in the candlelight.  “I’m a very quick study.”