turned_captain | (no subject)

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Will surprises himself with how easily he takes to the job.

His first act as Captain is to release everyone of their obligation to Jones, and many of his crew are quick to take it. Jones was a cruel Captain and they'd committed to a hundred years under him without really meaning it: choosing servitude out of a fear of death. When Will offers them release from this bond, they take it readily, and as the Dutchman sails away from Elizabeth, the sky lights up with a green flash as the souls enslaved to the ship are paid for their service with a second chance at life.

It's the men who choose to stay, like his father, that surprise Will and fill him with a sense of satisfied gratitude. He'd be the first to admit that his dedication to his duty was very much trying to keep him occupied so he didn't have to think too hard on the woman he left behind. The importance of what he is charged with goes some way to waylaying the despair of not being able to see her, and the gentle surge of the sea against the ship of his soul is a nearly adequate replacement for the hole where his heart should be beating.

The Dutchman is his mistress now, but she's a poor replacement for his wife.

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The sun rises, and the Flying Dutchman shifts between worlds as easily as a humpback whale surfacing for air. There's none of the furious rocking, or violent lurch Will experienced on board the Black Pearl. He merely orders the ship below and she follows him gracefully.

And after discharging one shipload of dead passengers, more duty remains; that abandoned by the Dutchman's last captain in his jilted rage.

As Will Turner starts bringing on the souls of men who died days ago, he wonders if this duty will ever be completely fulfilled.

There's a long line of faces waiting to board.

One of them is more familiar than most.

Will recognises him before he admits to recognising him, and takes a moment to steel himself for this reunion.

He may have tried to kill Norrington on one occasion, but that doesn't mean he doesn't wish he weren't dead now.

He offers his own hand to help the dead man board.

"Welcome on board the Flying Dutchman, Commodore Norrington."

"I hardly think I merit that title now", is the only response before he takes Will's hand and steps onto the deck. "Good day, Captain Turner. Or is it night?"

"Somewhere? Probably both."

Will steps back, examining his former rival, and not quite sure what to say. Eventually he smiles faintly, in gratitude.

"Elizabeth told me you saved her life. I owe you thanks for that."

His smile widens quickly. "Even if you won't take them."

That makes him look up, the movement sharp.

"She lives, then? You won?"

Will's smile widens even more, until it's very nearly a grin.

"We did. Thanks in part to your actions."

Norrington isn't smiling, but his relief is clear.

"Then at least I achieved something worth the name, at the last."

"You did."

Will straightens, looking a little more serious now as he turns slightly to survey the ship.

He's never asked any of his passengers what he knows now he's going to ask. And yet he isn't sure why he does.

"James Norrington, will you join my crew?"

Norrington looks startled - he knows Will never liked him, and had little reason to, let alone to make such an offer - but then he turns to follow the other man's gaze, and he knows there's only one choice he can make.

"When I was a boy", he says softly, "I wanted nothing more than a life on the seas, forever. At least, a lifetime seems forever, when you're twelve years old and new out in the world. I thought it would be freedom." He looks up at Will. "I was wrong. But now, it seems I have the chance to truly sail forever. Yes, Captain Turner. I'll join you."

Will grins again, satisfied, and offers his hand again, this time to clasp in an almost friendly manner.

"Welcome aboard indeed, then, James."

It means something, the first man to willingly join his crew.

Norrington smiles, now, setting the past aside along with his mortal life in a conscious decision, and clasps Will's hand.

"Where do I start?"

On a higher deck of the Dutchman, the elder William Turner stands and watches.

He barely remembers his last encounter with the man, but he remembers enough to know that here too is a debt.

As the two men below clasp hands, Bootstrap slowly starts toward them.

It's not long after accepting Norrington on board as crew that the Dutchman takes on a face Will is even less pleased to see than Beckett himself.

He doesn't even try to sound welcoming as he says, "Sao Feng."

Even with this... change of status, he can still follow protocol. His bow is deep and formal: this is not his ship. He's here by the good grace of its captain.

"Mr. Turner."

The former Pirate Lord of Singapore has nothing left to offer but his humility.

"Captain," Will corrects. Usually he wouldn't mind. But in the case of this former Lord, he wants to stretch the difference in status as much as he can.

And it has nothing to do with Singaporean hospitality and everything to do with...

(a canonball doused his desire.)

Will turns suddenly, and throws a fist at his passenger's face.

Ah yes: Western temperament. He reels from the blow, testing the corner of his lip with the back of his hand but of course, things have changed now. There is no blood to flow.

"Captain." It seems as if there is little to say. Is he to apologize for being a man?

He thinks not.

Still, he has admiration for a man -- pirate or not -- who takes duty seriously and, face still smarting from the blow, bows again. This time, though, he keeps one eye on Captain Turner. He does not wish to be hit again.

Will flexes his knuckles out of habit, surprised to feel no pain of his own: one of the side effects of being heartless. It diminishes the satisfaction he had expected to gain from the blow.

Instead, he bows again.

"Welcome on board the Flying Dutchman," he says, noting with interest that he appears to be speaking Chinese.

"I am honored to be on your ship, Chuán Zhǎng. Correct me if I am wrong, but we would be heading toward... the unknown with great certainty?"

He doesn't remember much: simply that there was a battle and then there was nothing. There is no pain associated with it, and certainly no great emotion. Still, there is a hunger for knowledge. All pirates have it and hold it and to rob the curiosity and wanderlust from a pirate is to truly kill him.

"We would," Will confirms. "Your last voyage, Sao Feng, will be made a passenger."

But of course.

"I understand." It has been a long time since he sailed a ship as a passenger, but this is fitting. It brings him back to his humble and unexceptional beginnings. There's only one thing to do before he's escorted away, as he surely will be. Meeting the captain's eyes, he nods slightly.

"In Singapore, we take great stock in pride and value saving face. In this regard, I see I made a grievous error and also made certain assumptions I might not have made had things been... clearer. I wish to undo any misunderstandings between us that might have arisen from the heat of the moment."

From the bottom of his piratical heart, this is the closest he will come to an apology. He turns his eyes to the sky: even in death, such an admission pains him greatly. Things, however, must be put right.

Will's face twitches into a slight smile, and he nods graciously.

"She is alive, and unharmed."

That is the closest Will will get to accepting such an apology. He stands back, to allow Sao Feng to be shown below.

Good. He takes his last look around at the world on deck.

"I am glad." If his gladness matters, it has been put forth. If it doesn't matter, the words will simply evaporate into the ether as words are wont to do. "Good day to you, Captain, and my gratitude for the passage."

With a last look at Will Turner, he allows himself to be led below deck, into the bowels of the Flying Dutchman. It is a place he never imagined himself being, but he finds himself unable to deny the lure and pull of this final journey on such a legendary ship.

Soon, all on board will be at peace. It's a tempting concept, peace. He wonders how it will feel after a lifetime of turmoil. His one most selfless deed was to make her Captain and he's glad to know she's survived: it's curious how pride takes a back seat to death.

Only time will tell what lies ahead.

These waters are familiar: Will's sailed them before on a different ship, albeit not one he captained as it was bonded to his soul.

In the hours they don't sail the overworld collecting the recent dead, the Dutchman's crew work their way steadily through the fleet of dinghies in the waters of the Locker, taking each one aboard individually.

Including one more familiar face.

He has waited so long. Time has no meaning in this place of stars and gently lapping waves, but he knows it's been longer than it should have been.

When he sees Will, his absent smile becomes more genuine.

"Is that you, Will? Is Elizabeth with you still?"

There's no heart in Will's chest to skip a beat, and absently he wonders if it did, and if she noticed, at the mention of her name.

Instead, he shakes his head as he throws a rope down personally.

"Elizabeth is alive, Governor."

"Oh good. Very good."

He stares at the rope. It's time to do something, he feels, besides sit and rock and wait.

He reaches for it.

"But we're not."

"No."

Will holds on to the end, offering a hand to his father in law when it becomes appropriate to do so.

"I'm afraid we're not. And I'm charged with escorting you on to the next world."

He takes it, allowing himself to be pulled on board.

Elizabeth is safe. He's ready to go now.

"I'm sorry to hear, Will. Not about your position, but about your state of existence. It's a worthy job to- I say, is this the Flying Dutchmen?"

Well, maybe not ready to go this exact moment.

"It is," Will says with not a small amount of pride.

"She's mine, now."

He looks around in wonder. The lad's done a fine job with the ship.

"Then everything turned out alright? Aside from our respective deaths, of course?"

Will bows his head quickly.

"The Endeavour is sunk, and the East India Company defeated. Elizabeth is alive, although essentially widowed. Things are as right as I could hope for."

He places a hand on Will's shoulder. "I'm sorry that part didn't turn out right. But I'm so very glad you came for me. Where will I go? Is Caroline waiting for me? She is, isn't she?"

Will places his hand on the Governor's arm. "It can still work out," he assures him. "This is only for ten years.

"I'm sure she is, Sir. But you'll have to find out for yourself."

He nods.

"Well. I suppose there's nothing for it then. Lead the way."

Will smiles sadly, and turns, to show Governor Swann to his quarters on ship.

Every other passenger is dealt with by the crew. The father of the Captain's wife will get special treatment. It's understandable.

It's a welcome turn of events. His end was brutal, and his limbo unsettling.

Now his path is before him, and he has fine company as he awaits the final step of his journey.

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