EwanTypeWriter

POTC: Daring the Ocean

You know that plot bunny I was talking about? Well here's the results.

Title: Daring the Ocean
Author: knight_ander
Timeframe: Some 30 years after At World's End
Characters: Will, Eizabeth, the Flying Dutchman, and Mr. Gibbs
Genre: Drama, maybe a bit angsty
Summary: Will and Elizabeth meet for the last time.
Comments: My first ever completed POTC fan fic.




Daring the Ocean


It was night, and the Flying Dutchman was sailing where only stars could be seen on a sea as still as glass. The galleon skimmed across the water, guiding a flotilla of boats carrying the souls of those who died at sea from the world of the living to the shores of the afterlife. Captain Will Turner was at the helm when a cry came from the crow’s nest.

“Sirens a’stern, Cap’n Turner!”

Their presence ruffled his hair before he had a chance to look for them. Three raven-haired, pale-skinned inamoratas of the sea soared over the ocean, each in turn rising above the water to whisper a word into the captain’s ear before continuing their flight into the stars.

“Will.”

“Will.”

“William.”

The words left the usually unflappable captain stunned as if struck by a swinging boom.

The captain’s first-mate came to his side. “What words did they whisper that takes the color from your face so swiftly, cap---.”

And then they heard a soft voice in the distance; a sing-song voice that followed the Sirens to the Dutchman and its captain.

“Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me.”

Joshamee Gibbs rushed to the rail, his eyes going wide as he spotted the tiny craft, one lantern at its bow. “I’ve heard that voice before,” he gasped, his heart sinking like a rusty anchor. “Mother and child, it can’t be!”

“It is,” Will answered, the words floating from his mouth as if of their own accord. “It is.” The scar over where his heart once was burned.

The spectral craft worked its way through the flotilla, approaching the Dutchman and allowing its occupant to be seen clearly by the larger ship’s crew. She stood with her chin held high as if daring the ocean to cap-size her, her dark-blonde hair flowing on an unnatural breeze. Her blue eyes forward, oblivious to the ship towering above her to her port side, she continued to sing. “We’re devils and black sheep, really bad eggs, drink up me hearties, yo ho.”

“Elizabeth.”

Elizabeth Turner, wife of the man who had just whispered her name, turned her eyes and looked directly into his. “Will,” she said, her smile brightening the ocean like a full moon. “A daughter, Will, our third child is a girl.”

The news would have been cause for great celebration amongst the Flying Dutchman’s crew, but the sight of its bearer muted the crew’s joy. There was only one reason why Elizabeth could be here in this world between lives less than a year after their last reunion. “I’m glad,” Will said with as much pride and joy as he could muster under the circumstances.

“William and Jane will look after her,” Elizabeth said. “She’ll be with them in Bermuda.” Her smile slipped briefly. “We were moving to Bermuda when she was born. There was a storm, and Port Royale….”

“I know,” Will nodded. The Flying Dutchman ferried hundreds of souls into the afterlife that night. “I will seek them out in Bermuda next time. I swear.”

Silence filled the empty gap between them. These were their final hours together, yet hours that the curse of being captain of the Dutchman would continue to keep them apart: she, an ephemeral being journeying to heaven; he, a soul self-condemned to a shell of flesh. Some day a heart may replace his own, but Will was not one to give the responsibility of such a heavy burden away so lightly.

Some day.

“That song, what was it?”

Elizabeth turned to find three young children in a boat on her starboard side. “An old pirate’s song,” she said, kneeling and leaning across the water to stroke the hair of a young boy who resembled her second son, Jack. “Would you like me to teach it to you?”

Elizabeth and the children began to sing as the Flying Dutchman and its fleet continued their journey. “We haul precious cargo tonight, Cap’n Turner,” Gibbs observed.

Will put a strong hand on his shoulder. “As we do every night, Mr. Gibbs.”

“Aye, but we’re loved by our mommies and dads
Drink up me hearties, yo ho!
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate’s life for me….”


End
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Aww, Elizabeth's a siren! That's cute. Mmm Port Royale... I'm inferring that it was something done by Calypso...?

Ah, and now I know the full words to the pirate song!

Sweet description!
Thanks! Glad you liked it. I'm quite happy with it myself. :)

The full lyrics to the pirate song can be found here, I just used a few lines.

On a historic note, the real Port Royale was supposeable "sunk" in an earthquake. I figure a storm would have worked just as well.

True, Elizabeth is a siren of sorts, but not one of the mythical creatures that proceed her in this story.
Such a mix of conflicting feelings. Its a strange feeling to be sad about a situation when the other person in question is so happy and light. I love the story and how you blended those emotions so naturally.
Thanks! Trying to get the conflict of emotions to work properly was a little difficult (how happy should they be, should they be more melancholy), but it looks like it worked just fine.

Thanks again!