honorat: (Will and Elizabeth by Honorat)
[personal profile] honorat
By Honorat
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Well, then, I confess, it is my intention to commandeer PotC, pick up the characters in Port Royal, raid, pillage, plunder and otherwise pilfer my weasely black guts out!

Summary: Will and Elizabeth have a teen-aged moment and one perfect day. Estrella gets a few prematurely gray hairs. An interlude to relieve the tragedy in the story of the fall of J. Brown. More movie novelization and missing scenes. Still entirely off the edge of the map.

Thank you, [livejournal.com profile] geek_mama_2, for the wonderful beta work; I’ll buy you a hat—a really big one.

Links to previous chapters:
Prologue: To Miss An Appointment
Ch. 1: Pirate Attack
Ch. 2: Unrestrained Piracy
Ch. 3: Canticle for a Blacksmith, Part 1
Ch. 3: Canticle for a Blacksmith, Part 2
Ch. 3: Canticle for a Blacksmith, Part 3
Ch. 3: Canticle for a Blacksmith, Part 4
Ch. 3: Canticle for a Blacksmith, Part 5

* * * * *

At last, the doctor pronounced Will fit to return to work. Will’s feelings were not unalloyed with regret as he walked back to the smithy after escorting Elizabeth home. His life would again be swallowed in the unrelenting labour of the forge. Elizabeth would have no more excuse to visit him. Hearing the clatter of hooves behind him, he stepped aside to allow the governor’s carriage to pass. To his surprise, the vehicle halted and the footman leaped to the horses’ heads. The governor leaned one elegant hand on the window frame of the door and peered out.

“A moment of your time, Mr. Turner?” Governor Swann requested graciously.

“Of course, sir,” Will said, although he felt the stir of unease that always accompanied his coming to the attention of Elizabeth’s father.

“I suppose you’re wondering why I’ve detained you like this?” the governor asked.

“Yes, sir?” Will’s tone was questioning.

Seeming to switch to an entirely new topic, the governor said, “The doctor tells me that you will be returning to work in two days.”

Will nodded. “Yes, sir.” Why had the governor been discussing his condition with the doctor?

“Good. That is very good.” Governor Swann beamed. “I am glad to hear you are fit again.”

“Thank you, sir.”

There was a brief pause. The governor cleared his throat. “I understand my daughter has been very charitable to you in your convalescence,”

Will’s sense of humour nearly betrayed him into an inappropriate smile. The amusement was pungently bitter-edged. He supposed charity was one term for it.

“Miss Swann has been most considerate, sir,” he said, politely subservient.

“I trust you understand that her visits will have to cease now,” the governor said, with a kindness that drew like knives through Will’s soul.

“Of course, sir. I am very grateful to her,” he answered, striving to remain unmoved.

“The wife of a very dear friend, Lady Ingleham, has invited Elizabeth to spend the season at their plantation on St. Kitts. My daughter will make her debut in society under her aegis,” the governor explained.

Will’s brows drew together in puzzlement. Why was he being given this information? “I am sure that is very kind of Lady Ingleham. Miss Swann must be very happy.”

His own heart, however, plummeted even further. Elizabeth was going away. He would no longer be granted the opportunity to see her even from a distance.

“Elizabeth is not happy at all,” Governor Swann groused parentally. “I have let that child run far too wild for far too long. But she shall go, nonetheless. I can trust Lady Ingleham to remove all unsuitable notions from her head. A woman of impeccable taste.”

Ah. So that was the problem. Again. Will wondered what Elizabeth had said that had resurrected that spectre in the governor’s mind.

“Sir,” Will said softly, “if you wish to discover whether or not I remember our conversation of two years past, suffice it to say that I do. The difference between Miss Swann’s station and my own is perfectly evident to me. You have no cause for concern.”

“Well now.” The governor cleared his throat again. “That is very good of you, Mr. Turner. You are a fine young man.”

The moment stretched out awkwardly. Will longed to be as far away as possible, some place where he did not have to keep up this polite mask that was nearly paralyzing his face.

Finally, Will broke the silence. “If that is all, sir, may I bid you good day? I shall have an early morning tomorrow.”

The governor seemed relieved. “Yes, of course. I shall not keep you any longer. Good day, Mr. Turner.”

“Good day, Governor Swann.”

The footman vaulted back onto the carriage, and the gray horses drew it away with swift, staccato steps, dappled flanks flashing, leaving Will in the dust.

He continued his journey down the hill, moving faster until he was nearly running. But he could not escape his thoughts. All things had their endings. And this was theirs. The end of their idyll. Elizabeth would be whisked away from him like a valuable painting from an open flame. She would be reabsorbed into her own world, as he would be into his. With his tasks at the smithy conspiring to devour his time, and her father conspiring to surfeit her time with amusement, the two of them would drift apart. When he saw her again, she would have assumed her place in her world, as far above him as the polar star from the restless sea.

As must happen, he reminded himself. This interlude was naught but a dreamlike interruption of their real lives. Like the fever-mad nightmares, it would fade into memory, replaced by the glaring light of inescapable reality.

Elizabeth had never shown any talent for accepting reality. So it would be up to him to accept it for both of them.

Suddenly it was more than he could bear. Will had never stood against the pressures of his life. He had always flowed gracefully aside, all smooth surface with treacherous currents well-hidden, often even from himself. But water will eventually wear away stone, and that afternoon a crack appeared in the granite.

If this was to be their last day together before the currents of their lives swept them apart again, if the worst thing that could happen to them had already been promised, then he would seize that day in both hands and carve it into a monument of memory. Too soon, the restraints would chain them back in their respective cages. But for one golden day, he would give in to Elizabeth’s total disregard for all restraint. He would forget who Elizabeth was, who he was. They would have one last perfect day, as if they were still children immune to scandal, one day to carry down those separate paths they would be forced to tread.

Will set out purposefully for the docks.

Governor Swann would not have recognized the look in the respectful blacksmith’s eyes—the fire was unbanked.

* * * * *

Estrella, who had it firmly entrenched in her mind that Will Turner was a good lad who would never step over the line of appropriate behaviour, was well into lending her countenance to the adventure before little warning flags began to run up her subconscious. There was something unsettling about the boy this morning.

The night before had been a stormy one at the governor’s residence, with Elizabeth protesting that she had no desire to go on parade for the marriage mart. But for once the tempestuous Miss Swann had failed to sway her indulgent parent. To St. Kitts she would go and that was final. That morning had found Elizabeth as close to the sulks as such a straightforward girl could be. It had been a relief to all concerned when she had insisted on one last walk along the shore with that blacksmith.

Leaving her household to begin the flurry of preparations—she cared nothing for what ridiculous garments they chose to send with her—Elizabeth set out, Estrella in tow, for the shore. They met Will halfway there. Elizabeth came out from under her cloud and began to shine again the minute he told her they would be doing something different that afternoon.

“Where are we going?” she begged, all coquettish entreaty and dark, beseeching eyes.

“It’s a surprise,” Will grinned at her and set out with his long strides that made Estrella trot to keep up.

“Will I like it?” Elizabeth persisted, intrigued by this new side of her childhood friend.

“Oh yes,” Will assured her. “You’ll like it.”

“Does my father know about it?” she asked curiously as they turned aside from their usual path along the shore and instead made their way towards the docks.

Will looked at her, his eyes unguarded and kindling. “He most certainly does not.”

“Oh, Will!” Elizabeth clapped her hands. “Would he disapprove?”

Will raised an eloquent eyebrow and tilted his chin warningly towards their out-of-breath follower.

Elizabeth covered her mouth, sharing a conspiratorial glance with him. She crowded close to him, and he dipped his head down close enough to inhale the fragrance of her hair. Banishing every customary conscientious qualm, he whispered wickedly, for her ears only, “He would be violently displeased, my lady.”

Giving a trill of laughter and a childish skip, Elizabeth exclaimed, “Then I already love it!”

She was bouncing in anticipatory circles around Will and Estrella by the time they reached a dilapidated dock on the edge of which sat an equally dilapidated and disreputable sailor with a peg leg, holding a painter attached to a real sea-going vessel. The man turned at their approach, his face crinkling into the hundreds of dark little lines belonging to a grin missing far too many teeth for charm.

“Aftahnoon, Will. Ladies,” he said.

“Good afternoon, Aaron,” Will greeted him holding out a hand to shake the elderly man’s. He turned to Elizabeth. “Miss Swann, meet Aaron and your boat for the afternoon.”

“Oh,” Elizabeth breathed, her eyes wide with delight. She nearly tumbled off the dock in her enthusiasm.

Estrella mentally added another gray hair. She was too young for gray hairs.

“What’s her name?” Elizabeth asked, oblivious to her own peril as Will took a firm hold of her arm.

Pig,” the man said firmly.

Pig?” Elizabeth asked incredulously. “Why did you name her that?”

“Coz tha’s wot her sails like. A damn pig. Beggin’ yo pahdon,” he said with fond relish.

Elizabeth eyed him as if she wasn’t sure he was serious, but indeed, the name PIG was scrawled in limping, spavined letters on the boat’s stern.

Estrella eyed the boat as if she hoped very sincerely that Will wasn’t serious. “I really don’t think . . .” she started helplessly. “Miss Elizabeth, what would your father say if . . .” That was the wrong thing to mention this day.

Her high-spirited charge tossed her head at the mention of her father and let Will help her into the boat.

Estrella hovered and fluttered on the dock like a hen that has hatched a duckling. “Oh do be careful, Mr. Turner,” she begged. “Oh you shouldn’t . . .”

Will turned to help the poor woman follow Elizabeth.

With the air of a saint going to her martyrdom, Estrella gave in to the inevitable. “Please don’t let it rock!” was her only weak protest. She settled with a distraught moan on the grimy cushions Aaron had strewn in the bottom of his boat for the ladies. “I do so hate water.”

Aaron popped in with surprising alacrity for a one-legged man, and Will scrambled in after and shoved off from the dock.

The breeze was fair and light, and the boat easily caught it in her gaff-rigged sail and topsail and headed out of the harbour. The Pig was not one of the tall, graceful ladies of the sea—more like a short, dumpy little working girl, actually—but she bobbed along merrily and puffed out her canvas as though she were very well pleased with herself. Elizabeth loved her.

As Aaron directed their craft through the silken pats of the small wavelets, Elizabeth watched him intently. Leaning close to Will, she whispered hopefully, “Do you think he’s a pirate?”

“No! Of course not!” Will was horrified. As if he’d ever put her in any danger! But she looked so disappointed that he relented a little. If believing this man was a pirate would make her happy, he had no intention of spoiling her fun. “Perhaps he was a pirate before he lost his leg,” Will suggested.

Elizabeth brightened and stared at their pilot in renewed fascination.

Dark eyes glittering in his seamed black face, Aaron shared a grin with his young lady passenger.

When the Pig had scooted out of the harbour and round the point into the open sea, Will called to Aaron, “The lady would like to try her hand at sailing.”

“Oh yes! May I?” Elizabeth exclaimed, rocking the boat and causing Estrella to shriek faintly.

Eyeing the girl dubiously, Aaron seemed about to refuse, but Will reminded him, “I’m paying you for your time.” Will had spent the entire pittance of his life savings on this outing. The flash of a half crown completed the man’s change of heart.

Eagerly, Elizabeth clambered over piles of fishing nets, buckets, and a stray lobster pot to join Aaron at the stern. Grudgingly, he showed her how to control the rudder and the sails. When he finally left her alone with one hand on the mainsheet, the other on the worn teak tiller, Aaron had the cringing look of a man who expects any moment to be whacked on the head by a wild swing of the boom.

However, Elizabeth had not forgotten her time aboard the Dauntless six years earlier. She had more theoretical knowledge than practical experience, but this, Will thought, was where her heart lay. He could see in her eyes that rapt introspection he felt when he handled steel. The sea had always been Elizabeth’s passion.

Gradually, Aaron relaxed as it became apparent that Elizabeth was not going to swamp them. She didn’t always know what to do, but she was sensitive to what the ship was doing—something a hopeless landlubber wouldn’t be. His grin returned and he grew voluble, gesturing widely, praising and scolding with equal facility as he showed Elizabeth how to tack and gibe, how to watch the surface of the water for clues about what the wind was doing further ahead, how to read the motions of the sails and adjust them for the best results.

For some time Elizabeth sailed the little Pig in large squares, happy as a grig, while Will drank in every moment of this time with her like a condemned man does his last sight of freedom. The wind combed its fine fingers through her curls, rippling them like liquid gold. Estrella’s remonstration that her charge should wear her hat drowned unheard. Elizabeth did not care if she wore new freckles to her coming out ball. She shook her head and mussed her hair even further.

Will’s senses feasted on the music of her laugh as a capricious wave splashed over the bow, on the grace of her movements as she slipped the bulky, awkward craft sweetly through the sea, on the glitter of sunlight on the fine fair hairs of her arms, on the faraway, enraptured expression in her dark eyes as she looked out to the horizon.

It would be a crime to chain such a wondrous creature to a parlour and the mundane responsibilities of a household, to the life of a fashionable young woman, when she was so clearly meant to be set as free as the wind on the water.

The future hovered for a moment, shadowing the bright Caribbean day. Tomorrow he would return to a life made desolate—to unremitting loss. Tomorrow Elizabeth would set forth on a path that would lead her inexorably away from him and towards the constraint of her destiny. The happy child playing here today would be gone forever. He would not know the woman who emerged. With effort, Will shook off the chill that touched him. He would let neither the past nor the future spoil this day.

Will leaned his head back against the Pig’s gunnel, closing his eyes and letting the sun warm his face. The plash of the water on the hull, the brush of wind in his hair, the tang of fresh salt air in his lungs relaxed him, uncoiling some of the tension in him, banishing it back to Port Royal where it belonged. It was such a relief, for this brief moment, to be free.

* * * * *

Growing more adventurous by the moment, Elizabeth sent the Pig capering along the Jamaican shoreline. The little boat seemed to approve of her for she gave no sign of being piggish. The smooth, viridian flanks of the island framed the entire stretch of one horizon, fading gently to deep blue in the distance. Volcanic rocks jutted out of the shimmering, turquoise water, providing navigational excitement for an inexperienced pilot. The white encrusted black outcroppings cried and chattered and shrieked with the voices of their seething coating of seabirds. Up close the noise was an ear-wrenching cacophony, but as the boat drew past, the dissonance melted into the music of the sea. A small fleet of fishing boats off their starboard bow was attended by swarm of gulls like flecks of sunlight dancing in an impossibly blue sky. In her attempt to see everything around her all at once, Elizabeth had to be rescued from a wrong heading several times.

Will contributed to her distraction by pointing out fascinating wonders below the surface. Looking through the transparent, glittering water, he was mesmerized by a world he rarely had a chance to observe. The water fractured and swirled his view of brightly-coloured schools of fish, and farther down, the mottled patterns of pale sand and deep blue reefs. The shadow of their little boat chased along the ocean floor beneath them.

Poor Estrella had a heart-stopping moment when her two charges lunged for the lee side of the boat, shipping salt water, in their eagerness to stare at a hawksbill sea turtle gliding alongside them in leisurely curiosity. And they all had to dodge an unexpected swing of the boom when the giant black cross of a frigatebird sailed serenely overhead in its never-ending flight.

Trailing one hand in the ripple of the bow wave, Will enjoyed the liquid press of cool water on his sun-heated skin. Beads of salt spray clung to his forearm, chilling in the breeze. He felt as though two fathoms of water lay in insulation between himself and the events of the last few months. The release from that weight left him feeling buoyant and breathless.

Far away, to starboard, the edge of the sea faded nearly to white and then blended gently into the azure heavens. Will could almost imagine turning the bow of their little ship towards the rim of the world and chasing the sun down that horizon. A vague, uneasy sense of longing for some unknown destination, some unexplored and silent sea twisted in his soul.

* * * * *

As the afternoon drifted towards evening and the light lengthened over the sea, the chop increased until the Pig began to wallow.

“Bring ‘er about now, lass,” Aaron advised. “Time t’ take th’ ol’ gal home.”

While Elizabeth wrestled the increasingly aptly named boat around, Aaron kept up a running commentary on the art of meeting the higher seas with the prow. The Pig sashayed back and forth as she rode up one wave and down the other side.

Will was the one who noticed that Estrella was beginning to look uneasy, her face gone pale and greenish, her eyes large and dark.

“Are you well?” Will asked, concerned, leaning towards her.

She tried to give him a faint courageous smile. “No. Not in the least. I hate water!” And then she was bending over the side of the boat as her stomach revolted.

Slipping his arm around her in support, Will called to Aaron, “We must get her to shore as quickly as possible!”

Without protest, Elizabeth moved aside to allow the more experienced seaman to send the Pig hurtling along at her best speed.

As the little boat skipped over the waves, jolting against the larger swells, Estrella moaned and was sick again. Will continued to hold her, murmuring encouragement, while Elizabeth hovered nearby in contrition.

“I’m so sorry, Estrella. I didn’t know the sea made you sick,” she apologized.

Estrella tried to indicate that no apologies were necessary, but her body retched again.

Worried, Elizabeth asked Will, “Is she going to be all right?”

“I won’t die, if that’s what you’re asking,” Estrella managed. “I’ll only wish I could.”

Elizabeth, who had never been seasick a day in her life, snuggled up to her maid and rubbed her back. “Aaron will have you on shore in no time,” she encouraged.

The Pig made very good speed, as though she had abandoned being piggish for Estrella’s sake. Nevertheless, it seemed an unconscionably long time before they were back in the sheltered waters of the harbour, drawing near to a different dock, far from Port Royal.

As the little ship bumped up against the pilings of the dock, Will leapt out and caught the painter Aaron tossed to him. Making her fast, he leaned down to help Estrella out onto the planks. Elizabeth assisted her maid into Will’s hands and then scrambled out of the Pig on her own. The two of them helped their shaky chaperone along the dock to the sandy shore.

Estrella leaned heavily on the young blacksmith’s arm, feeling a tearful, emotional attachment to land that did not move. She did not pay any attention to where they had docked. All that mattered was that they were no longer at sea.

“Come this way,” Will was directing. “There will be a place for you to lie down in a cool shelter.”

That idea sounded lovely to Estrella. She was supposed to be playing propriety for these two children, but surely they could not get into too much trouble if she lay down for a few moments—just until her head stopped aching. Will Turner was such a responsible young man.

* * * * *
Ch. 3: Canticle for a Blacksmith, Part 6b

Date: 2006-01-26 03:54 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] veronica-rich.livejournal.com
Aaron had the cringing look of a man who expects any moment to be whacked on the head by a wild swing of the boom

Give him a couple of years, and he and Jack can sit around commiserating about keeping up with overly energetic children half (or less) their age.

I'm not much of a sailor, haven't had much chance in my life, but I do like it, and I like these descriptions of being on the water. It just about captures it, if you can't go yourself to experience it.

Oooh, I can't wait to see what "responsible" Will does next. I've been curious through all this - do you have this vision of Will because of how the character was written/acted in the movie, or despite either of those presentations?

Date: 2006-01-26 04:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] honorat.livejournal.com
Thank you so much for commenting. Estrella will be able to join Aaron and Jack in grousing, even though she's much closer to the kids' ages. I thought Elizabeth pretty much had to be a holy terror as a young teen.

I'm so glad you felt the description was authentic. I've done some sailing and a lot of canoeing, and I love tropical water, so I tried to capture that.

I actually did get this vision of Will from the movie, from the writing and the acting and the commentaries. As I continue this novelization, you'll see what I mean. This stuff comes up again in the actual movie scenes. But if you take that first scene in which Will appears, he is not poking about at the paintings, the musical instruments, the statuary--it's the metal sconce that draws him and he can't keep his hands off it--he unerringly finds its flaws; then there is his joy in that sword--he loves that thing--as well as the writers' comments that Will is the best swordsman in the movie (my backstory explores why this is so); then his really very gentle sense of irony when Brown is given credit for that work of art--there is no resentment in his face, just a touch of incredulity and resignation. When Elizabeth shows up, it is so obvious they have a past--she is so delighted to see him and he looks so completely floored by her; she ignores convention and he tries so hard to behave appropriately, but that last "Good-bye Elizabeth" tells a story of its own. As for Will going off his leash in this section, that pirate blood has to be good for something, and Will would be inhuman if he didn't once give in to anarchy. That "war on the world" ending in the movie had to have some basis in Will's character. So this fic, for me is what happened when I looked at Will's actions in the movie and then asked the question, Where would that have come from? What would make that the logical, inevitable response he would make? Also I looked at his relationship with Elizabeth and how she feels about him with the same questions in mind. Will always accepts Elizabeth as an equal in the movie, something no one else does to her. He doesn't once question her ability to fight pirates. After I'm done "Worthy", I've got Elizabeth's point of view on this same time period to write for the next section of novelizing.

Date: 2006-01-26 07:41 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] veronica-rich.livejournal.com
Wow, what an answer! But I like long explanations, don't get me wrong.

The reason I asked that question is I, too, got a lot of the same impressions from watching the movie, about Will's character. I always smile when I read an old review of the movie wherein someone is grousing how Orlando was so wooden and imparted nothing in his character, that he can't act. It'd odd how the actor manages to be a different character in each movie he does - even if he does swing a sword in more than one - graduated from one of the best acting schools in the world, and is supposedly incompetent at his job. *headshake*

Date: 2006-01-26 07:47 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] honorat.livejournal.com
Preaching to the choir, I see! I'm glad someone else sees this in Will. As for wooden acting, that scene on the docks where Jack signs on the Interceptor's crew--Orlando, up against Johnny's facial expressions, is still fabulous. Will is a bit of a stick! You can't play him without some wood! Or as I prefer it--without that steel still in need of a little iron folded in.

Date: 2006-03-22 12:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hendercats.livejournal.com
Elizabeth's POV coming?
*dances with glee at thought of 'nother lengthy backstory from [livejournal.com profile] honorat*

Date: 2006-01-26 05:09 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cymbeline.livejournal.com
I was so excited to see more of this, I love your young Will & Elizabeth.

Date: 2006-01-26 05:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] honorat.livejournal.com
*Bounce* I'm so excited you like them! Thank you. That is such a sweet picture of them in your icon.

Date: 2006-01-26 07:46 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cymbeline.livejournal.com
I like that photo, he's got this look of trying to hold back from devouring her. Lots pf passion pent up in that boy *fans self*

Date: 2006-01-26 07:48 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] honorat.livejournal.com
Oooh! You have no idea mate! Wait until the next part of this chapter. :D It's getting hot in here.

Date: 2006-01-26 09:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cymbeline.livejournal.com
Hee Hee :)

Date: 2006-01-27 04:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] ref-1985.livejournal.com
You are doing an amazing job - one of the best Will/Liz fics out there. Well done!

Date: 2006-01-27 05:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] honorat.livejournal.com
Thank you so much for your kind words. I'm honoured that you'd say that. Since the movie makes Will and Elizabeth's romance the epic one, I wanted to show the backstory about why.

Date: 2006-01-28 06:57 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] thekestrel.livejournal.com
All right, all right ... now! Where is part B? I loved this. Still waters indeed. You have to beware of the riptides, that can pull you under, to drown. I got a catch in my throat, when Will payed for this excursion with is savings. He really loves Elizabeth, totally and completely. He's the only one to see her for who she is. Not what she is. A love that deep, that doesn't count the cost in coin. But in hearts blood. Deep in his heart and soul Will, is on the threshold, of a cut he see's coming. But can not doge. Leaving him slowly bleeding. Not to death. More like stripping the zing out of life, the taste of things going flat; and un-spiced. Color fading like the sun washing away the colors of fabric, out in it's light. Will wants a memory to pull out, and light the way. To put some color back into his world, and taste if only briefly the spices of life. I'm looking forward to your next installment - then Elizabeth? YEAH!!!!

Date: 2006-01-29 10:51 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] honorat.livejournal.com
*bounce* So happy you liked this. Part B is being finished as we speak. It will be up this week.

He's the only one to see her for who she is
That's the key to seeing why they're meant for each other. I felt any back story of the two of them would have to make that clear. If one is writing canon PotC, Will has to be the one, of all Elizabeth's fine choices, who really understands her and loves her.

Poor Will, at this stage the moments are very fleeting. He doesn't see any sign of his own happy ending. If "Worthy" belongs to Will and his POV, the next work in this series will belong to Elizabeth. She's already getting into trouble on St. Kitts in my head.

Date: 2006-01-29 01:33 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sparky-darky.livejournal.com
Your young Elizabeth is a character to be admired-- I think everybody wants to be like her when they're young. It's the certainty and self-awareness that I like; it doesn't make her seem old beyond her years, but is fitting for a child brought up to have everything she needs, and yet very little that she actually wants.

Your descriptions of sailing in Pig are absolutely wonderful! Again, this brilliant motif of the ships in your stories having personalities befitting characters. This reminds me of the few times I have ever been sailing, and being unable to control the temperamental thing-- the boom was the worst, and I often ended up knocked overboard. Elizabeth is a brave girl indeed to take on that boat: or perhaps it never occured to her that she wouldn't be able to control it?

I love Elizabeth's lack of distinction between myth and reality-- it makes that time on the island with Jack all the more poignant when her fantasies are shattered. It's a great contrast between Will's pragmatism-- you can really see the development of Will, and the conflict of being with Elizabeth and being bound by society.

It's heart-rending to see this barrier slowly beginning to form between the two of them, and I'm glad you gave them this one last day of peace. Will's uncertainties and doubts are nice little interruptions in the idyll, and Elizabeth's obliviousness is extremely in-character-- even as a young woman she does not quite see why Will should not call her by her first name.

It would be a crime to chain such a wondrous creature to a parlour and the mundane responsibilities of a household, to the life of a fashionable young woman, when she was so clearly meant to be set as free as the wind on the water.
These descriptions hit me most of all, and in some strange way it ties Elizabeth with the Jack of your stories: both have a certain wildness about them that Will does not seem able to tap into in quite the same way-- instead he seems to admire it from afar. The end of the movie says a lot when he finally gives in to anarchy!

This novelisation is digging up a lot of questions about Will, and answering them at the same time. I have to thank you for giving me a whole new appreciation of Will's character!

Date: 2006-01-29 03:25 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] honorat.livejournal.com
Oooh! Lovely long comments! *muse goes all shiney eyed* Thank you.

I'm so glad you like my picture of Elizabeth. She seemed that sort of girl on the docks after Jack rescued her--totally oblivious to her lack of apparel in front of a bunch of marines, dead set on seeing her view of justice prevail, completely lacking her father's prejudices, hopping headfirst into danger, all with the best will in the world.

I can't help writing the ships as characters--that's how they insist on being written. And Pig even insisted on her own name. I tried to name her something different but noooooo! She had to be PIG! I think Elizabeth does think she'll be able to sail--like a person who loves horses is always sure she can ride. Since she is the best sailing strategist on the Interceptor, I imagine she had to have some past experience, so I gave her James as the source of her theoretical tactics, and now Will as the source of her practical experience. But I see her as having a gift for it.

The conflict in Will here is what I felt would lead to the character we see in the movie--he can barely chain himself into the appropriate cage, but he is determined to die trying until Elizabeth's life is at stake. I felt, to make their love believable, there had to be a time when that wall was not so opaque as it is at the beginning of the movie. And even then, Will is the one who sees it.

Elizabeth and Jack are "Peas in a Pod". She is very like him in their desire for freedom from all artificial restrictions, and as I see it, their love of the sea and ships. Will is different, although he breaks away at the end. Many people look at James' elegance, class, and dashing life and say that is like Elizabeth, she should have taken him. Others look at Jack's desire for freedom, his snarky attitudes, his devious plots, his determination, and say that is like Elizabeth, she should have had him. But when two people are exactly alike, one of them is unnecessary. Will and Elizabeth play highlights to each other's shadows.

I'm thrilled you're enjoying the complicating of Will I've been trying here. And thank you again for such lovely feedback.

Date: 2006-03-22 12:16 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] hendercats.livejournal.com
*grins at delightful morning treat*

Elizabeth would be whisked away from him like a valuable painting from an open flame.
There you go, adroitly working Will=fire into things again. :)

Elizabeth had never shown any talent for accepting reality.
Have I ever mentioned what a delightful way with words you have?

They would have one last perfect day, as if they were still children immune to scandal

“Oh, Will!” Elizabeth clapped her hands. “Would he disapprove?”
Will raised an eloquent eyebrow and tilted his chin warningly towards their out-of-breath follower.
“He would be violently displeased, my lady.”
“Then I already love it!”

*claps hands along with Elizabeth* Oh, I adore how you show them!

spavined letters
ooooh, nice new word!

And Aaron and the Pig - wonderful OCs (which is what we've all come to expect from you)!

Will had spent the entire pittance of his life savings on this outing.
*loves Will for the adorable totally impractical sweetness of this* Don't think don't think anyone's made me love Will before (don't get me wrong, I like him plenty and always have, but this.... *sigh*).

Wonderful description of the scenery - the water, the shoreline, the sealife (geez, you even managed to sneak in a sea turtle!) - what a lovely day! Oh, and:
The white encrusted black outcroppings cried and chattered and shrieked with the voices of their seething coating of seabirds.

Poor Estrella! Not only is the dear putting up with an inappropriate outing, she gets seasick!

But: drawing near to a different dock, far from Port Royal Hmmmm, where are they?

Noticed your response to GM's Spring post. I've got daffodils blooming and snow/ice to scrape off my windshield this morning (wacko weather!). *offers to share hot chocolate*

Date: 2006-03-22 01:56 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] honorat.livejournal.com
*grins at delightful morning comment treat* I'm so glad you enjoyed this. The rubber band snapped and I had to put some fun in with all that tragedy--for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. LOL.

working Will=fire into things again
The kid may be a bit of a stick, but he's got the ability to go up in flames :D

a delightful way with words
Thank you for your kind words. I did see the Elizabeth of the movie being completely unwilling for reality to arrange itself according to any other priorities than her own.

*sniffle* *hands tissue* There had to be some wonderful times between Will and Elizabeth to account for the sparks that fly between them in the movie.

I adore how you show them
Thank you so much. Music to a writer's ears. I do so want people to love Will and Elizabeth together.

nice new word
One that normally inhabits my equestrian vocabulary.

wonderful OCs
I'm so glad you like my OCs. I love writing them. I almost said inventing them, but that doesn't really describe how they just show up with personalities in hand and stubbornly insist on going their own way.

Don't think don't think anyone's made me love Will before
*does a Snoopy dance* Whoohoo! That is so just what I was trying to do with this chapter and the next one. Since Elizabeth picks Will over Norrington and Jack, I wanted to write Will so that it would be perfectly obvious why she did so.

Wonderful description of the scenery - the water, the shoreline, the sealife (geez, you even managed to sneak in a sea turtle
Having never been to the Caribbean, I spent a lot of time on Google with tourism and naturalist sites trying to learn about the flora and fauna of Jamaica. Then I added memories of Fiji and Hawaii and the Puget Sound where I have been. Those noisy, bird-covered rocks are definitely a memory. I'm glad you enjoyed the result.

Poor Estrella This is not Estrella's perfect day!

In case your question about location is a request for information, they are at what would become the location for Kingston, across the bay from Port Royal.

Thank you so much for such a lovely comment. The muse is enjoying the hot chocolate. Alas, the foot of snow we have is not wacko weather here, but is perfectly normal. *is jealous of the daffodils*

Date: 2006-09-14 03:44 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] myystic.livejournal.com
Back again:) I review in spurts, keeps authors on their toes.

Oh poor Will, to have to edure the Governor again. You do love twisting the knife. And taking Elizabeth sailing! How wonderfully appropriate! I love how blurry the line gets for Will, between thinking of Elizabeth as his best friend and realizing his romantic feelings for her. The way you paint it, we're more aware of his feelings than he is, and it works so well.

Will could almost imagine turning the bow of their little ship towards the rim of the world and chasing the sun down that horizon. A vague, uneasy sense of longing for some unknown destination, some unexplored and silent sea twisted in his soul. Once again, love the subtle hold the sea has over Will. Very nice to but that back in again.

Date: 2006-09-26 05:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] honorat.livejournal.com
And I respond in spurts. Thanks for the sporadic muse feeding.

Elizabeth knows too much about sailing not to have had some experience. I'm sure she learned a lot on the Dauntless, but I thought she'd need more than that. And who else in her life would even consider such an outing for the governor's daughter. I'm glad that gradually dawning romance works here. It seemed to me that Will and Elizabeth's real relationship had to be all backstory in CotBP, we saw so little of them. And I wanted to give them some moments as beautiful and poignant as Elizabeth's with Jack on that island.

Now that I've seen DMC, I'm glad I included Will's raport with the sea in his character. He seems so at home on it. And if he and Elizabeth are to be a pair, he'd need to love the freedom of the sea as much as she does. They are both straining at chains in this story.


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