turned_captain: (I think...)
Will Turner ([personal profile] turned_captain) wrote2006-09-29 07:36 pm

(no subject)

There was discussion. There was planning. There was irritating and patronising dismissal of anything Will had to say, despite everything he'd been through, everything he'd all but led them through. But they did listen on occasion, even if they pretended not to.

And then he noticed Elizabeth had slipped away, into the shadows near the back.

Will wonders what she's doing back there. Weeping probably; the man she loved has just given his life to save hers, after all.

And to save Will's.

He wonders if she'd ever look like she does now, if he had died. He wonders if she ever really loved him, or has always been in love with Jack, the pirate, the romance, and the sea.

He's brought back into the present by the feeling of eyes on him, although the talking of Barbossa and Gibbs hasn't let up. Casting about, he finds Tia Dalma's steady gaze fixed on him, before those black eyes dart to the shadows where Elizabeth has vanished.

It's not hard for Will to decide what to do. Whatever she feels for him, he still loves her, and she's still hurting so much he can feel it. He's still her fiance, after all, and he still loves her more than he can bear, even if she mourns another man.

Quietly, he slips away from the conversation towards the dark shadows at the back of the cabin.
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-09-30 11:59 pm (UTC)(link)
This is how it works, Will Turner.

You're born, you live, you walk your path, and you die.

Everything else is only the details. Even Elizabeth. Even love.

They may or may not, mind, still be important.

But you live, and you walk, and as you walk the trees grow a bit further apart and the darkness drows a bit lighter.
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 05:02 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, Will.

That's the hardest path of all.

But you made your choices, and you choose again, now, to walk on, and now there are no trees, only hedges, like in a garden that's well cared for.
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 05:28 pm (UTC)(link)
Destiny doesn't, really, change.

But there's something personal about it--about him--for each being, and so while it's still a garden, there's a fountain in it that the robed figure stands next to.

If you listen, it almost sounds like the sea, somehow, the way the water runs.

"Welcome, William Turner," says a voice like sand and wind and paper, and there's a page turned in the book.

You can't see it, but under the hood there's the faintest of smiles as he reads.
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 05:38 pm (UTC)(link)
"I know you," he agrees, and looks up after a moment.

It's not for long, because he doesn't need the glance. It's something of a courtesy, though, that some get, the stare of blind eyes.

But it's the book that needs to be read, and so he looks back.

Because, he knows, the script says that he will.
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 05:48 pm (UTC)(link)
Him will do.

It's close enough.

"There are very, very, very few I do not know." There is something dryer to his words, for a moment, before he continues.

"And you are one who walks closer to me than others. We have met before, and will again, before your story is complete."
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 05:56 pm (UTC)(link)
"You are mortal."

It is the simplest of answers.

"But you bear my touch, and even if you do not, I do. And it is written in the book."

But very little isn't.
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 06:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"In this book, yes."

A page is turned.

It's one of the constants. He reads, and the pages turn, and there are so many the book never seems to truly progress.

But you have a limited perspective, unless you are Family, from which to view that.

"The Eldest of Seven. Destiny. You will join me at the table."

And with that, Destiny moves away from the fountain to where, on a table, there is one cup of tea, and one tankard of rum waiting.
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 06:13 pm (UTC)(link)
If there were an observer of it all, He--or She--or even They--might point out the irony of Elizabeth Swann being torn between a man who belongs to the Eldest, and a man who belongs to the Youngest.

There isn't one. Only the Creator.

And the Creator needn't watch.

"It is not a test," Destiny says without looking up. "Only a choice."

He already knows which Will chooses, but that doesn't mean Will can escape doing so.

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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 06:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Of course he's not.

But the tankard remains there just the same.

"Because you walked into the woods."

It's an honest answer, if not a complete one.
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 06:31 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes," he agrees.

"And then things changed, and still you went on."

A page is turned.

"I am to ask you why. And before you leave, I am to ask you another question, but I may not speak on what it is yet."
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 06:52 pm (UTC)(link)
It's only tea.

But there's a hint--a hint of something strong and fermented and tempting.

Only a hint, though.

"She is not in this place," is the not-answer.

"But when you leave, you will be closer to finding her,"

(Bootstrap's Son, Bootstrap, Bill, Will)

"William Turner. I am allowed to assure you of that."
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 07:01 pm (UTC)(link)
"She has moved," he says, after a moment, "outside the book."
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 07:15 pm (UTC)(link)
And that's one of the hardest things, truly, accepting that you don't completely understand.

Or admitting, anyway.

"You will be closer to seeing her," he repeats, "when you leave this place." He points at a gate in the hedge. "All you must do is step through. But before you do so, I am to ask you one more question."
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 07:30 pm (UTC)(link)
"Did you take the tea because it was what you wished to drink, or because you thought you should?"
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[personal profile] book_bound 2006-10-01 07:47 pm (UTC)(link)
It's more a smirk than anything else, small as it is.

And then it's gone.

"We will meet again, William Turner. Your path will lead you here again before the story ends."