CRIMSON WAYS
BY:  Psocid

***

Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann were to be married.  That is, of
course, considering that `were' is a past tense term.  Elizabeth
remained engaged, but the title of fiancé shifted from one Will
Turner to one Commodore Norrington.  There is no real way to
describe how or when it happened; it just did.  No one seemed to
object or think ill of any of the parties involved.  Will had
noticed soon after (his and Elizabeth's) engagement that there was
no passion between them.  No fire.  No sleepless nights spent
thinking of the goddess that he wanted.  No, that was now the
Commodore's problem.  Will and Elizabeth were simply best of friends
now.
      The change may have started with Will--having gotten his
first real taste of adventure, and the sudden end of it all leaving
him with an unquenchable thirst for more.  Quite admittedly, meeting
Jack Sparrow was possibly the best, and soon to be worst, thing that
had ever happened to the young blacksmith.  Will missed the pirate
and his eternally intoxicated self-even though he'd never publicly
admit to it. 
      After Jack had escaped, or rather fallen, to freedom,
everything had calmed down.  It was almost unbearably calm.  But
this day was to be different.
      Will knocked on the door of the Swanns' home.  He didn't
have to wait long before a servant answered and showed him in.
      `This way, Mr. Turner,' he said, gesturing in a boorish
manner into the general direction of the parlor.  `You're to wait
here for Miss Swann.'  And with that, the servant left.
      Will was used  to being left to his own devices in the
governor's house.  As long as he didn't touch anything, he'd be
safe.  So he stuck to his favorite pastime of looking around.  As
his gaze raked the room for some sort of intrigue, a portrait caught
his eye.  He cocked his head to the side.  Surely this painting
wasn't there before-he would have remembered it.
      It wasn't anything particularly glamorous, but it had a
peculiar air about it that seemed to say `Look at me.  I'm the only
person that matters in this world and the next.'  He couldn't help
but be reminded of someone.
      Will strode up to the portrait for a closer look.  It was of
a very beautiful young woman.  The painting itself was very old,
quite possibly over a hundred years old, though the frame was new. 
Yet, somehow, it matched perfectly.  It might have been the fact
that the wood used for the frame matched the woodwork of the chair 
the woman sat in, or that the silver (Will had thought it more
common for such paintings to sport gold than silver) laced into the
carved braiding of the frame gave it a touch of individuality that
seemed to emanate from the woman.  Will's thoughts were brought back
to the woman herself.
      Ah, yes.  The mysterious subject of the portrait.  Who was
she?  Why did she smirk like she knew everything and yet nothing? 
That smirk.  There was something very familiar about that smirk and
the lips that showed it.  Such kissable lips; painted crimson, but
the natural beauty showing through.  Her lips contrasted perfectly
with her pale skin.  It looked as though she'd never seen sunlight.
      Will's eyes followed her lips to her left earring.  It
appeared to be silver, shining in the light of the room she posed
in.  Will could have sworn he'd seen that bit of jewelry before-
though he couldn't place his finger as to where.  Giving it up as a
lost cause, he admired her hair next.  It was a raven black, and
most likely smooth as silk by the looks of it.  The top part of her
hair was pulled up into a sort of bun.  Will had never seen any like
it.  It was decorated with pearls and the wings of some sort of
bird.  He wondered vaguely if they were real.
Tracing down, his eyes met with hers.  They were a tempting
chocolate that dared one to drown in them.  He remembered seeing
eyes like these before.  He recognized the lust they held.  The
knowledge, the playfulness.  But for the life of him, he couldn't
put a name to this face that he knew so well.  All he could think of
was how he wanted to be with this woman.  Let her know all his
secrets.  Even though he was certain that she'd use that against him
and take advantage of him, he didn't care.  As long as he could be
in her presence.  He wanted to serve her.  To be her slave.  To-Will
was jarred from his thoughts as a hand came to rest on his
shoulder.  He spun around to see Elizabeth looking at him with a
slightly worried expression.
`Elizabeth…,' he started, but was at a loss of words for some reason.
`I see you've met the Countess,' Elizabeth stated, warily eying the
portrait.
Will nodded.  `It's a beautiful work of art.  I've never seen
anything like it.'
Elizabeth frowned.  `I don't like it.  There's something…not right
about it.  Something evil.'  She seemed to be fighting for her words
to come out right, as if some force was trying to keep her from
shedding light on a deep, dark secret.
`She looks familiar.  Who is she?' Will asked, looking back to the
painting of the Countess.  Elizabeth was right.  Something
definitely wasn't right about it.
`She is Countess Mircalla Karnstein,' she replied flatly.  `My
second cousin found it while cleaning out his wine cellar.  Thought
it would make for a good, if not cheap, wedding present.'
Will continued to stare at the Countess. Why did she look so
familiar?  The name wasn't familiar, so why did he think he'd seen
her before?
`Speaking of wedding presents,' Elizabeth began, breaking Will from
his thoughts once more.  `You're here to help me decide on a date
for the wedding and who should receive invitations.'
Will groaned inwardly.  He was hoping to have a simple chat with his
friend or maybe be given a request for a sword to make for the
Commodore as a wedding present.
Elizabeth must have sensed this, for she put on an impish smile and
locked her arm around his.  `Oh, come now!  It's not as bad as
you're making it out to be.'
She smiled whole heartedly and dragged Will out of the parlor.  Just
as they reached the door, Will took one last look at the portrait of
Mircalla. Not really being able to focus on it due to the movement
of being dragged along, he recognized the distinct features of the
woman.  `Jack…'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

      Captain Jack Sparrow lazily steered the Black Pearl.  A
mischievous grin played across his lips as he shifted the ship's
direction.  They would arrive in Port Royal just as the sun would be
setting.  It would be a grand entrance—not as interesting as his
arrival with a sinking boat, but it was sure to catch an eye or two,
and that was all that mattered to Jack.  He did seem to like going
out of his way for attention—it had become a sort of accidental
habit.

      As for why he was headed for Port Royal, his crew had a
pretty good idea.  It had been six months since he'd last seen Will,
four months since he heard that Will and Elizabeth were engaged, and
it was less than a month ago when Jack had gotten word that Will was
no longer engaged to his `bonnie lass.'  Only a week had passed
before Jack's natural curiosity got the best of him.  He had to know
why the change in plans.  He also wanted to see if Will was up for
grabs, and from any list of reasons for heading to Port Royal, this
was the one that the crew sided with.  It was no secret that their
captain had taken a liking to the boy.

      It would only be a few more hours until they'd reach land.

      Will and Elizabeth were in the drawing room.  They had been
there for a good two hours or so, and Will's fidgeting was becoming
more obvious as he stared longingly out the window towards the
docks.  He had long lost interest in the subject at hand (wedding
guests).  Surprisingly, he survived the first two subjects of a
wedding theme and catering, but wedding guests…  Will would never
dare to hurt Elizabeth's feelings with his opinions on some of her
other friends.

      `Will.  Will!  Mister William Turner!'

      Will was forced from his thoughts of having a choice
selection of Elizabeth's friends to walk the plank.  `Oh, sorry!'
Will apologized at the scold Elizabeth was giving him.

      She doubted that he was truly sorry, but continued
nonetheless.  `As I was saying,' she said, getting back to the guest
list, `Marianna Suzette; I'm inviting her as well, so where should
she sit?'

      `Sit?  We've gotten to seating arrangements already?'  He
didn't think he was out of it for that long.

      Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him.  `We're going over both
the guest list and seating at the same time.  I thought it might go
quicker this way.'

      `Oh, I see.  Two birds with one stone, eh?'

      `Right, but I did not need much of an opinion on the matter
from you until now,' she said patiently, though anyone could tell
that her patience was wearing thin.  `Should I have Marianna seated
next to you, or would you prefer other seating arrangements?'

      Will flinched slightly at the thought of Marianna sitting
next to him.  She was so annoyingly sweet.  Ever since the knowledge
of Will and Elizabeth's engagement breaking off became public,
Marianna seemed to take it upon herself to comfort Will.  He
shuddered.  `I'd rather have a candle-lit dinner for two with
Barbossa,' he commented under his breath.

      `William turner!'  Elizabeth scolded him again.  She sighed,
knowing full well that Will couldn't stand Marianna.  `All right,
I'll have her placed next to Christine and Annette.'

      Will looked relieved.  The last thing he wanted was for
Marianna to have an excuse to talk to him.  She was enough to make a
man turn from women altogether.  Not that he wasn't halfway there
himself, but he'd never admit it openly.  His gaze had drifted back
to the window overlooking the docks.  It was nearly sunset.

      Elizabeth followed his gaze and smiled knowingly.  `How
about we finish this up outside?' she suggested.

      Will jumped eagerly to his feet.  `That's  a brilliant idea!'
      They made their way to the docks and found a bench to rest
on.

      Elizabeth was halfway through pulling out her materials when
she heard Will gasp.  `What is it?  What's wrong?'

      Will didn't answer.  He looked ahead with disbelieving
eyes.  It wasn't possible.  Not here.  Not now.  He had to be
hallucinating.  Best to confirm if what he was seeing was real.

      `Am I just imagining it, or is that really the Black Pearl?'
he said weakly, still not believing it.

      Elizabeth turned to look where Will had indicated.  Her jaw
dropped.  Was the Black Pearl's captain a complete idiot?

      They were both still staring, mouths agape, when an all to
familiar voice sounded from behind them.

      `She looks absolutely gorgeous in the sunset.  Doesn't she?'

      Will and Elizabeth turned to see none other than Captain
Jack Sparrow grinning madly as he watched the Black Pearl.

      Will looked from Jack to the ship.  Looking back at Jack, he
asked `What are you doing here?'

      `Surely you'll be hanged!' Elizabeth added, concern evident
in her voice.

      `I'm here because I wanted to see my ship come in,' he
replied.  `And why should I worry about hanging when I have you two
looking out for me?'

      Will let out an exasperated sigh.  `That's not what I meant,
and you know it.  Why are you here—in Port Royal?' he reiterated.

      Jack smiled innocently.  `I was just curious is all,' he
said.  It was an honest answer; he was curious, but the other two
didn't need to worry themselves of what exactly he was curious
about.  No sense in scaring Will away so soon.  There'd be plenty
enough time for that later.

      `Curious as to what, pray tell?'  Obviously, the answer was
not good enough for Elizabeth.  Will might have given up on the
pirate as a lost cause, but she wanted answers. Good ones.

      `I caught word, a while back, that your engagement had been
broken off, and I…'  He paused for a moment, shifting his weight and
waving his hands around as he looked for the words that wouldn't
give him away.  `And I wanted to see how you two were getting on.' 
He hoped that would be satisfactory enough.

      Elizabeth raised an eyebrow at him.  He was being honest—to
an extent.  That much she could tell.  But it would have to do for
now.  She knew she'd find out sooner or later, though she wasn't
quite certain as to whether she preferred sooner or later.

      Wanting at least one of his questions answered, Jack
asked `So why exactly has the engagement been disbanded?'

      Will and Elizabeth were not prepared for this query to say
the least.  They looked to each other as if they wanted to huddle
together and come up with a proper answer—not just `lost interest,
moved on, the end.'  Will bowed his head in a slight nod, signaling
that he'd do his best to explain.

      `Well,' he began, `Elizabeth and I don't feel for each other
in that way anymore.  Yes, we do love each other, but only as
friends or siblings do.'  He paused, and Jack nodded for him to
continue, taking in the information.  `We discussed it and decided
it was for the best not to get married.'

      `Ah, I see,' Jack muttered, wandering how to phrase his next
question.  `Any new engagements as of yet?  You know that I do so
love weddings.'  He smiled when Elizabeth blushed.  `Well?'

      `Not that it's any of your business, Mr. Sparrow, but
Commodore Norrington,' she replied as her blush deepened, `proposed
to me not more than two months ago.'  Will smirked at her
discomfort, and she scowled at him in return.

      `Well, I'm happy for you,' Jack said in a sincere tone
before he switched his attentions to Will.  `And what of you?  Any
new lasses lined up for the chopping block?'

      Will blushed slightly at the suggestive tone in Jack's
voice.  `Wha—no!'  Jack's face lit up like a cat's that had just
caught itself a plump and juicy rat.

      Elizabeth saw this as the perfect moment for her revenge on
her earlier embarrassment.  `Oh, don't be so modest, Will,' she said
sweetly.  Will quirked an eyebrow at her, wondering where she was
going with this.  Sparrow was beginning to look as if his rat might
get away.  `You must remember Miss Marianna Suzette, right?  I
thought you fancied her.  She likes you.'  And the rat was gone.

      Jack was hoping that it would have taken longer for Will to
find a new love interest.  At least until he had gotten to Port
Royal.  Will's voice broke into his sulking thoughts.

      `E-Elizabeth!' he stammered, `I'd never—not in a thousand
years! She's so—!!  I'd rather marry Mr. Cotton's parrot!'

      Elizabeth couldn't hold in her laughter any longer.  `Serves
you right!'

      It seemed that Jack's rat came trotting back to him.  `So! 
It's to be a double wedding then?  Lizbeth and her commodore.  You
and the parrot,' he said teasingly as he clapped Will on the back,
causing him to stumble forward a step.

      Elizabeth gathered her lists of guests and invited Jack to
join her and Will back at the estate for dinner—to which the pirate
was more than happy to oblige.  On the way, Jack continued to tease
Will about his new engagement to the parrot.  It didn't help much
when Elizabeth mentioned Will's earlier remark of dinner with
Barbossa.

      By the time they'd reached the front door, Jack decided to
take a stab and see where it got him.  `But, Will, Barbossawas such
a boorish man!  I'm much more interesting than he could have ever
hoped to be!  I'm hurt that you think more highly of him than me,'
he said in a mock sadness, clutching his chest.  `Ye've yipped out
me own heart, lad.  So this is to be the fate of poor Captain Jack
Sparrow: to die of a broken heart.  Aye…and such a tragic fate it is—
and that I must share this fate with a parrot—`

      Will turned and cut Jack off from saying more.  `Shut it,
pirate!'  Will was mere inches from Jack.  His face was flushed with
anger.  Jack mildly wondered what that face would look like flushed
with a different emotion.

      As Will glared into Jack's eyes, he remembered something. 
The same perfect brown eyes as that of the painting.  Curiosity
overthrew anger with the need for knowledge.   `Jack…,' he began
slowly, Jack eagerly listening,' there's something that I wanted to
ask you.'

      `Aye. Go ahead, mate.

***
email author                           back to main page
                                                     Email the                            Return to
                                                      Author                            Story Index