turned_captain | (no subject)

(no subject)

Mal went through the door first, and Will followed closely behind.

He hadn't thought, when it came down to it: he hadn't needed to. He just charged through the door looking for Elizabeth and expecting Tia Dalma's cabin.

He had completely forgotten in his urgency that it's not where he came to Milliways from.

As the daylight hits Will's eyes, the first thing he does is turn around to look for Mal - but the captain's not there. Will worries for a beat, but calms himself and walks on into the familiar Garden, hand resting on his swordhilt.

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Behind him there is the sound of dry pages rustling.

The air is disturbed by the passage of something, probably winged, that flickers at the corner of Will's vision.

All else is silence. There is not even the sound of wind through the bushes that line the path.

"We meet again, young William Turner."

This voice is cool and dry as dust, as the ancient pages he turns in the Book that is older than worlds.

"Sit. Eat. You will be here some time yet."

Will is no longer capable of surprise as he turns to see Destiny standing there. He even glances at the table the being is sitting at.

Tea, of course.And a selection of tea-cakes. Will wonders, for a second, if there's some sort of Classical penality to be paid for taking food in Destiny's garden.

Then it occurs to him that maybe the debt is already owed.

He sits, far more at home than he was the first time he came here, and pours milk into an empty tea cup.

"How long is some time?"

"You'll know when your time here is done."

He turns a page calmly.

Waiting.

Destiny is almost always waiting.

Will is, perhaps unsurprisingly, sick of waiting.

Pouring the tea carefully, he glances up at Destiny's figure, thoughfully.

"Do you have any wise advice for me this time?"

"Aside from ''ware Greeks bearing gifts?'"

It can hardly be counted as a question. But could Will see the face inside Destiny's hood, he might almost imagine a faint smile flickering across thin lips.

Another page turns, and another, as a soft breeze cools the air.

It smells of the sea.

"That is one of the common warnings."

And Will smiles as well, lifting his cup and staring into the middle distance for a second.

Urgency is still there, but it's easier to take his time here. More so than in the bar, because he's not stuck.

"I'd sooner be ware of pirates bearing gifts."

And Destiny lifts his head from the Book, his blind expressionless face turning toward Will.

"Would you, indeed."

There is nothing in his voice to suggest whether this is a wise course of action or not.

There is another few moments of silence, then Destiny looks back down at the Book, turning another page.

"Many in your time would choose to call that wisdom."

"The only Greek I know I would trust more than any pirate of my acquaintance," Will remarks, thinking of Hektor.

And his forge. And suddenly, for no reason, there's a pang of regret that he might never see the boy again.

"I suppose when I leave here, I'll get to Tia Dalma's cabin," he says, almost a question.

"When you leave here, as is the case with all who pass through, you will be where you were."

Destiny gives nothing away--unless he chooses.

Another page turns.

"And do you know what you will do, after you have left my Garden?"

"Find the Black Pearl," Will says. No use in pretending to Destiny that this is even remotely about Jack.

"Use it to go after the Flying Dutchman and rescue my father."

And along the way, make things right with Elizabeth. He's more vague on that point.

"An ambitious undertaking, to be sure."

That is not to say Destiny is against it. Destiny is, as ever, remarkably neutral about either success or failure, or any of the innumerable roads in between.

"Are you prepared?"

Will draws his knife and holds it up, blade pointing down, hilt towards Destiny.

"I am," he says. "I know what I must do."

He just hasn't quite given it voice, yet.

"Do you."

Destiny closes the Book for a moment, one finger holding his place.

"You seem remarkably comfortable with certainty, William Turner. Some of your acqaintance would counsel wariness on that front."

Destiny is not one of those.

Or is he?

He stands then, letting the Book fall back open. The chain that binds him to it clanks as he shifts away from the table, bare feet leaving no impression on the ground.

He casts no shadow, even in the bright mid-morning sunlight that floods the Garden.

"Have you eaten and drunk your fill, then?"

Will glances back down at his plate.

It's probably the closest he'll get to civilised food for a good long while, now he's left Milliways. Again, he wonders whether he'll ever return.

"I've taken all I care to," he says, and stands. He knocks the table as he does so, and an empty tankard falls over, spilling out something hard and silvery on to the table.

Destiny still stands, Book open, reading.

"You might take that with you. Another ship's captain left it some time go. He was a very hot-tempered man, given to impulsiveness and rage. It seems to be a common trait among pirates."

Will looks down at it, and lifts it up to eyelevel.

A heavy silver charm on a long piece of leather, which when he slings it around his neck, hangs halfway down his chest. It's nothing special, but he's not really sure why he wouldn't take something Destiny offered.

"They're not all very impulsive," he remarks.

"The still-living ones, perhaps. Though even they will die, soon enough."

Destiny turns slightly, beginning to pace deeper into the Garden.

"Take the left-hand path, William Turner. It will show you out."

Will looks away from Destiny, tucking the strange weight under his shirt.

The left hand path is open and clear, but the hedge on weither side gets taller very quickly, so it's almost trees. Then the light seems to drop away and Will finds himself walking in near darkness.

He continues on.

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