Double Drabble: Perchance to Dream
Feb. 2nd, 2006 03:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
honoratby Honorat
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Owned by the Mouse. I swear I am an almost innocent fanfic writer.
Pairing: Will/Elizabeth
Summary: I have finally managed to write a drabble again! Well, a double one. A little missing scene for the Black Pearl Sails "Lullaby" challenge. Angsty, if you can believe it.
Every night after his rescue he had fought sleep with a desperate fury, but eventually his exhausted young body would vanquish his battered spirit and drag him down into fiery nightmares. Then he would come violently awake, his throat a raw echo of screams, the thin sheet twisted damp, the acrid scent of his own fear stinging his nostrils, unable to flee from the images branded on the backs of his eyelids. He would not return to sleep.
This night, however, he found himself rocking in his mother’s arms again, hearing the soothing melody of the old lullaby she used to sing over him. The gentle notes held power over the terror, driving it from him, surrounding him with safety. A cool hand brushed the damp strands of hair from his forehead as his mother used to do, but it was not the familiar, work-worn palm.
He opened his eyes, startled, to see the face of the young girl with the freckles and ringlets and large, dark eyes. Again he heard her soft voice: “I’m watching over you, Will.” Her hand slipped into his.
That night Will Turner finally slept until dawn.
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Owned by the Mouse. I swear I am an almost innocent fanfic writer.
Pairing: Will/Elizabeth
Summary: I have finally managed to write a drabble again! Well, a double one. A little missing scene for the Black Pearl Sails "Lullaby" challenge. Angsty, if you can believe it.
Every night after his rescue he had fought sleep with a desperate fury, but eventually his exhausted young body would vanquish his battered spirit and drag him down into fiery nightmares. Then he would come violently awake, his throat a raw echo of screams, the thin sheet twisted damp, the acrid scent of his own fear stinging his nostrils, unable to flee from the images branded on the backs of his eyelids. He would not return to sleep.
This night, however, he found himself rocking in his mother’s arms again, hearing the soothing melody of the old lullaby she used to sing over him. The gentle notes held power over the terror, driving it from him, surrounding him with safety. A cool hand brushed the damp strands of hair from his forehead as his mother used to do, but it was not the familiar, work-worn palm.
He opened his eyes, startled, to see the face of the young girl with the freckles and ringlets and large, dark eyes. Again he heard her soft voice: “I’m watching over you, Will.” Her hand slipped into his.
That night Will Turner finally slept until dawn.