turned_captain: (got me sword back)
Will Turner ([personal profile] turned_captain) wrote2007-10-20 08:31 pm

(no subject)

The first thing Will is aware of is a steady throb that's both silent and deafening. At first he has no idea what it might be, then he thinks it must be his own heart beat, because it starts in his chest and seems to fill his every vein with life.

But when his fingers reach up to the hole in his shirt, her remembers that his heart shouldn't be beating at all. Further exploration yields a fresh, red welt where he dimly remembers a knife cutting into his chest, after the sword had been removed.

Then Will realises. That sound that isn't a sound, it's not really a heartbeat at all. It's more the rhythmic waves of a lively ocean. And he notices that the body he feels it pulsing through doesn't end at his fingers and toes. As Will carefully draws the first breath since what was meant to be his last, he realises he's feeling the entire ship as it rocks in the swell.

Cautiously, he opens his eyes.

A crew is standing watching him, apparently apprehensive, and Will recognises his father near the front, a familiar knife in his hand. The man standing near might be Jimmylegs, the boatswain who takes a cruel pride in cleaving to the bone when he has to flog a crew member, but like the men surrounding him, he no longer looks like a hideous piscine monstrosity, but like an awed, hopeful, human man. In his hands he carries a chest Will recognises instantly, even before he hears the faint beat of his own heart within it, audible only in the silence of the watching crew

No one on the deck in this still, stagnant underworld says a word as Will stands, and not even his father offers a hand when he proves a little unsteady. They're all watching him, to see what he will do.

Will takes the chest off the boatswain before he says a word of his own.

"To stations," he says flatly, uncertain of his own authority, and they disperse. Only his father lags behind, but Will can't face him now. He continues across the deck, towards Davy Jones'... towards his cabin.

[identity profile] touch-destiny.livejournal.com 2007-09-03 08:13 pm (UTC)(link)
His cabin is not empty.

True, there is still the wreckage of it's last occupant--the madness of Davy Jones shattered everything it touched, dragged what was left into the great green deeps of delirium and vengeance, and the wood is dark, waterlogged. At the far end, the great organ lies silent. There are the splintered remains of table and chair; there are the small pound cannon sitting dormant, no longer guarding anything at all.

And there is someone else, someone unseen for the moment, whose touch lingers on shattered keys which make no sound.

Along the planks, a few crabs scuttle.

[identity profile] touch-destiny.livejournal.com 2007-09-03 08:43 pm (UTC)(link)
She looks the same. Her dress is soaked with sea-water, and her eyes are fixed on Will, infinitely sad and infinitely joyful.


It whispers about the cabin.

"Ye are captain of the Dutchman now, William Turner." As if remembering an old and secret joke, she smiles, a little. "A touch of destiny. Be glad this touch was from love and not a blow of anger or hate."

[identity profile] touch-destiny.livejournal.com 2007-09-03 08:58 pm (UTC)(link)
She makes a little humming noise of laughter and steps quickly closer to lay her hand on his chest, brown palm over the red and angry scar.

"This," she says. "It is your duty, now."

[identity profile] touch-destiny.livejournal.com 2007-09-03 09:31 pm (UTC)(link)
"Yes." Her touch is kind.

"And not to go on land but for one day in ten years." She looks up at him, a small woman who nonetheless fills the cabin.

"Even I cannot change that."

[identity profile] touch-destiny.livejournal.com 2007-09-03 09:46 pm (UTC)(link)
"Sweet William," she sighs, "so loyal, so true. Will this be worth it, ye think? It is a long an' hard course to sail, but there will be a wind at ye're back. Ye'll not be so alone as some."

The fondness of Calypso is a dangerous thing to covet, a nearly impossible one to find, but when she grants it, it comes as a gift. She cannot control her nature, but there are those she will be watching for.

His respect is returned with a sweet smile that edges into the coyness so familiar on her face. "An' there is the one day."

[identity profile] touch-destiny.livejournal.com 2007-10-07 08:35 pm (UTC)(link)
"An' yet, ten years. A long time, for someone not caught in eternity."

The black eyes dart to Will's face, then back to the keys of the silent organ. "A long time to be alone. To be faithful."

There might be something Will would say to that, but before he can, she steps forward as she had in their first meeting, some burning recognition in her face, some message unsaid.

"Ye know it was for lack of faithfulness that drove Davy Jones to become the monster."

It might sound like a slight against Elizabeth. It isn't.

[identity profile] touch-destiny.livejournal.com 2007-10-07 08:54 pm (UTC)(link)
"He was abandoned. For lack of the thing," she says. "He could have had a life with her that loved him best an' instead became what he was. Let anger lock him heart away instead of love."

She takes a moment to look at the man before her, and her face softens at the pride and the faith there. It's a long and fond look, and then she turns away, lays a firm hand on the chest he'd brought.

"He was not so different from you, once, before him was poisoned and cursed of his own will. Remember that, Captain; an' after ten years maybe ye'll find happiness wit' your love.

I hope it may be so."

[identity profile] touch-destiny.livejournal.com 2007-10-07 09:37 pm (UTC)(link)
She pauses; her back is to Will as she traces the designs on the chest but the hesitation in her words is like a breath held in the cabin. In the silence, the steady beat of Will's heart mixes with the creak of the rigging above and the bulkhead around them.

"One day, and ten years. Ten years of waiting, faithfully. That is the curse of the Dutchman's captain. That is your curse, in exchange for your duty."

[identity profile] touch-destiny.livejournal.com 2007-10-07 10:04 pm (UTC)(link)
"She can be faithful where I could not." There's an odd half-regretful tone in her voice, and when she turns it's with a smile of surpassing sweetness, though her eyes are bright.

"It is my nature. If I had been there, Davy Jones would not have become what you knew him to be. Not this," she waves a hand at the cabin, "wreck of a man. Not doomed. Ye have the power to take your destiny, William Turner; you and your Elizabeth. It need not be the same as his."

It's a few steps back to Will; she doesn't take them. "Curses can be broken."

[identity profile] touch-destiny.livejournal.com 2007-10-07 10:17 pm (UTC)(link)
She nods, and swallows. Now she takes those steps, to lay her hand against his face and to look at him with eyes that are as bright as a bird's before they are no longer there and Will is alone.

There's a little haunting melody that plays, and fades, and is gone; but the smell of the sea lingers behind.