"The Curse of the Black Pearl: William Turner"

pink-cheetah

pink-cheetah

Active member
If you’ve seen Pirates of the Caribbean (The Curse of the Black Pearl), you’ll remember when young Will Turner, about 12 years old at the time, was rescued from the wreckage of a burning ship. This is something that I imagined might have happened to him. This is meant to be a short story, which it is, and it might need some work in some areas. (Criticism would be very welcome!) There is not much description, just a brief “outline” since it seems best to leave things up to people’s imaginations. Remember, this is no promising novella done by a master writer, just a small piece of fanfiction done by an inexperienced fan, but I sincerely hope you enjoy it! :)
 
Last edited:
I originally posted a short story (2nd post) and didn’t have any intention of writing any more. Peanut_Butter requested that I post more! So, I’m going to write some, give it a shot, and hope it works out all right! ;)
Just so you know, this is basically The Curse of the Black Pearl from Will’s perspective.
You’ll know the story plot, so if there is something that doesn’t seem to add up with the movie, please tell me!
Anyway, I don’t claim any of the characters or story line for myself, it’s all Disney. :p
Any constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated and applied!
And again, although this will never measure up to the movie, and I am no wonderful writer, those of you who did read my sorry attempt at writing, I do hope you enjoy this! (All aside from my sappy way of writing :rolleyes: )


(and i re-arranged my posts :o)
 
Last edited by a moderator:
Part I: Plundered by Pirates

Part I: Plundered by Pirates

A young boy leaned over the side of the ship deck wistfully gazing at the horizon as he deeply inhaled the smell of the salty seawater. As a ship’s boy working on the ship in exchange for passage to Port Royal, he hadn’t much time to spare. Although halfway grown, about 12 years old, the boy’s thoughts drifted with the wind back to England, to his mother. He remembered that day on her deathbed, when she gave him his father’s medallion. His hand flew to his neck automatically, to make sure it was still there. And he remembered…

“William Turner,” gasped a pale woman, lying on a small bed. “I have something for you… from your father… he wants you to have this-”she gestured weakly to a small box at her bedside table.
The boy, eyes red from crying, quickly wiped his nose ashamed of crying, and reached for the box. It felt heavy in his hands.
“Open it,” his mother said.
Opening it gingerly, the boy called Will, lifted up a golden chain out of the box. Attached to the chain was a gold medallion. Intricately carved, the pattern contained an etching of a skull in the middle.
Will caught his breath, “For me?”
His mother nodded weakly, “From your father. He must meet many different characters as a trader, but I wonder how he acquired it. Here- let me fasten it around your neck.” Will handed her the medallion. “Let me help you-” he said, helping her sit up.
His mother laughed softly, “William…”
Slowly, she managed to fasten the medallion around his neck.
“Will, the money I have… is in the jar under the bed. It’s only a little, but it is all I have now. Take it.”
She stroked his hair gently. She coughed, “I’m sorry. I love you.”
William bent over her anxiously, “I love you too.”
Smiling delicately, Mrs. Turner said, “Have you uncle take care of my body. Your uncle… he is kind. It would be good for you to stay with him; he will be good to you.” She laid her head back on the pillow and sighed, “I will rest now.”
And she closed her eyes.

“Will! Where are you?” A sharp voice interrupted Will’s thoughts.
“I’ll be right there!” He shouted back to the voice.
He took one last look at the horizon. It looked like some fog was approaching. And there was something black on the horizon. Will squinted eagerly. Did it look like a ship? It was too fast for a ship, or at least any ship Will had ever seen, which wasn’t too many. It was too fast. Maybe it was a whale or some other sea creature. Dismissing the thought of a ship, Will hurried below deck to assist Mr. Wallis for whatever reason had called for him.
“Will, run to the galley and get me some barley water, will you?” Mr. Wallis said, rocking slightly.
“Yes, Sir.” Will replied, dashing off.
Before he got to the galley, a thud from the ship threw him to the floor. He jumped to his feet, trying to keep his balance as she ship began move to and fro unnaturally. He could hear shouting above. ‘What is going on up there?’ Will mused. In a rash decision, he ran up to the deck. A ship with black sails! That was the thing he saw on the horizon! The fog- it was here covering the ships. William strained to see the flag on the black-sailed ship and gasped. It was a pirate ship, and the dirty-looking men climbing aboard this ship were pirates!
A sailor rushed past Will, hissing, “Get below or fight, boy!”
He shoved a butcher knife into Will’s hands. They boy had barely turned aside when a dirty-bearded, stocky pirate and his comrade seemingly appeared out of nowhere and plunged their swords into the sailor. Will almost swooned. The pirates turned to him, grinning perniciously and brandishing their swords. Will grit his teeth, closed his eyes and threw the knife deep into the stocky pirate’s chest. He heard howling, and he turned and fled, down below deck, away from the confusion.
“William Turner!” Mr. Wallis shouted as Will ran by his cabin door, “What on earth are you doing? I want my barley water!”
Will, now pumping with adrenaline and a racing heart, breathlessly stopped in Mr. “Wallis’ doorway, “Mr. Wallis! P-Pi-Pirates! They’re on deck! They came in-”
“Hang those pirates!” grumbled Mr. Wallis, “The navy needs to do something about these sent-from-hell devils! Just close my door, Will.”
Will obliged and ran on his way. He wondered where to go. He couldn’t go back up there without a weapon. He ran as fast as he could on the rocking ship to the galley, in search of more knives or somewhere to hide. He heard heavy footsteps clambering down from the top deck. Will dove behind a barrel. Cowering with fear, Will tried to silence his beating heart. Will let out a small sigh of relief that the pirates were not interested in food at the moment- but if they weren’t interested in food, then what were they looking for? Will had to get off this ship! He needed to escape; if he didn’t, he would never find his father.
“Father,” he whispered, touching his medallion.
Will waited in his hiding place until his legs began to cramp up from staying in the same position for so long. Suddenly, Will sniffed the air. Was that- oil? He wasn’t sure. It smelled like smoke too. Smoke! The pirates must have set the cargo in the hold on fire! He darted out from behind the barrel and crept up the stairs, carefully hidden. On deck, he saw pirates tossing more cargo overboard. Where was everyone else? The captain of this ship, the rest of the crew, the passengers- where were they?
“Has ye found any? If not, leave this ship to burn, and we will divagate!” shouted a pirate.
The pirates worked quickly, cutting the ropes that held the two ships together temporarily, quickly getting on board the black-sailed ship, hoisting sails, making it ready. Will watched silently, hidden from sight, but able to see the actions of the pirates.
The pirates cast off, slowly sailing away, but the fog remained.
Suddenly, from the hold, the flames flared up, swallowing the oil, flames licking the wood of the old ship. The sudden flare up created a small detonation, knocking Will off his feet, and hitting his head soundly on the wooden stairs. Dizzy, Will stumbled out onto the deck. He leaned over the edge. It was a long drop, making him even dizzier, but he had to get off this ship that was sure to sink soon, or worse. He climbed over the edge, and let himself fall into the water. Cold, thick water enveloped him the moment he entered the water. Struggling against the water that seemed to pull him under with a supernatural strength, Will gasped for air. He could see a little light up there, but he could not surface from the water. Clawing and kicking at the water desperately, he finally succeeded in reaching the surface, and gasping for air, he climbed onto a wooden board that had been dumped overboard by the filthy pirates. Too exhausted to worry about rescue or even his medallion, he collapsed on the board, and passed out into the welcome dark of unconsciousness.

“Mother?” asked Will shaking her, “Are you alright?”
Mrs. Turner was gasping in her sleep, eyes open with terror although not seeing.
She bolted up awake.
“Your father… your father…” she panted, “I saw him in my dream… something was wrong.”
“It’s alright, it was just a dream.” Will said.
“That’s right.” She shook her head, “Still I dreamed he was kept somewhere. He was trapped.”
She smiled, and reached out to smooth his hair.
Her hand had turned into a crab-like claw and was reaching for him.
Will grabbed her wrist, gasping.

Will woke up, startled to find himself actually grabbing someone. He opened his eyes, agitated, to find himself looking into the beautiful face of a startled girl about his age.
“It’s alright. My name is Elizabeth Swann.” She said gently.
Gasping for breath, Will had barely enough energy to state his name, “Will Turner.”
“I’m watching over you, Will.” Elizabeth said tenderly.
Will’s head fell back, into a deep sleep, one where he would not wake up for hours.
 
Last edited:
Part II: Delivering a Sword

Part II: Delivering a Sword

Will jerked awake, drenched with sweat. He’d just had a dream. It was as realistic as the day it had happened, near eight years ago. He could distinctly remember the smell of smoke, the shouting of the pirates, and the wetness of the murky water. Will shook himself, wiping his forehead with the back of his dirty hand. Alarmed, Will realized he had nodded off to sleep at the smithy. He had spent the entire night pounding and hammering away at a sword that had been custom ordered by the governor of Port Royal for the promotion later today of one such Captain James Norrington. Or “Commodore” as he would become in a few hours. The sword was to be delivered to Governor Swann’s residence- also home to his beautiful daughter Elizabeth, whom Will had met the day he had been rescued from the waters of a burning ship. Will hung up his tools neatly on the wall. Stepping outside for a moment, Will breathed in the fresh Jamaican air. It was a beautiful morning, although only dawn, with a blue sky and a light breeze blowing through the palm trees. Will quickly grabbed a handful of cold water from a bucket near the well and splashed it on his face. He wiped his face dry with his sleeve. He hurried back into the smithy. He smiled. There was his employer, Mr. Brown, snoring away, with an empty bottle hanging from his limp hand. Brown did not know that Will had slipped a drug into his bottle of rum the night before, causing him to pass out for about twelve hours. Will polished the sword, one last time before gently placing it in a black case. He picked up the case, tucked it under his arm, and set off eagerly for Governor Swann’s vast estate.

Will had arrived early, but he was admitted past the large gate that barred the Swann property from the rest of Port Royal. He knocked on the door, and was granted entrance past the large, ornate doors by the uptight doorman.
“State your business, sir. Said the doorman briskly.
“I’m here to bring Governor Swann the sword he ordered for the Captain Norrington.” Will said quickly.
“Yes, you may wait for him here. I will have someone alert him of your arrival.”
Will waited near the doorway, nervously, he paced back and forth. He pondered to himself. How long had it been since he’d last seen Elizabeth? Of course, he would never call her “Elizabeh” to her face- it was always “Miss Swann”, no matter how many times she told him. It had been a while since Will had actually talked to her. He would see her partly hidden from a carriage window while he would be walking down the streets sometimes, but they came from two separate worlds. Will admitted to himself that the only reason why he had drugged his employer was because out of some childish hope that he might see Elizabeth today. He paced around the hall, absent-mindedly, looking at an intricate grandfather clock; he stopped to touch a shiny candleholder.
CRACK! One arm of the candleholder was now in his hand, unattached to the others. Embarrassed, Will looked around for a place to put it. He looked down and noticed an umbrella bin. Quickly putting it inside, Will straightened up just in time to nod in greeting to a passing servant, who was carrying a silver tray on one hand.
“Mr. Turner, good to see you again.” Said Governor Swann, descending from the staircase.
“Good day sir,” Will answered back, and setting the case on a small table nearby. He smiled proudly, as he opened the box, “I have your order.”
He carefully lifted the sword out with two hands, and with a slight bow, handed it to the governor. The governor took it, and pulled it out of its sheath, examining it.
“The blade it folded steel.” Will said.
Governor Swann looked at the blade, impressed.
“That’s gold filigree laid into the handle.” Will added.
The interested governor turned the sword to look at the handle.
“If I may?” Will asked, quietly.
Governor Swann handed it to him, as Will explained more about the sword.
“Perfectly balanced.” He balanced the sword on his fingers, the blade on one side, the handle on the other, “The tang is nearly the full width of the blade."
Then, with an expert flip of his wrist, Will threw the sword up in the air, and caught it again by the handle, ending with a flourish, smoothly handing the sword back to the governor.
“Impressive. Very impressive,” said the governor, with a small chuckle, “Now, now…”
He sheathed the sword, “Commodore Norrington is going to be very pleased with this.”
He handed the sword back to Will, “Do pass my compliments on to your master.”
Will looked up from the sword, “I shall.” He was pleased, “A craftsman is always pleased to hear his work is appreciated.”
Both men looked up at the sound of dainty footsteps coming down the stairs. Will was in awe.
“Elizabeth, you look absolutely stunning,” the governor said.
Elizabeth looked at Will, excited.
“Will!” she put a hand to her heart, “It’s so good to see you!”
She hurried down the stairs the rest of the way. Will couldn’t keep his eyes off of her.
She came to where the men were standing, smiling, “I had a dream about you last night.”
Will couldn’t believe his ears. “About me?” he asked, bowing slightly.
“Yes, is that entirely proper for you-” Governor Swann interjected, only to be cut off by his daughter.
“About the day we met. Do you remember?” Elizabeth asked quickly.
Will caught his breath. Her too? “How could I forget, Miss Swann?”
Elizabeth leaned closer to him, one eyebrow slightly raised, “How many times must I ask you to call me ‘Elizabeth’?”
“At least once more, Miss Swann, as always.” Will said, shortly, but with a small smile.
The governor was pleased with Will’s answer. “There. See? At least the boy has a sense of propriety.” he told his daughter, gesturing lightly to Will. He reached for the sword box, “We really must be going.” He handed the box to a waiting manservant, “There you are.”
Will looked at Elizabeth anxiously. She looked back at him with a tiny pout on her face.
“Good day, Mr. Turner,” she said, with an air of indifference.
Will looked at her, a bit startled at being called “Mr. Turner” by Elizabeth, who had always called him “Will”.
“Come along,” Governor Swann said, hastily.
Elizabeth and a trail of servants followed him, exiting the door. Will followed the last servant out the door.
“Good day,” he said, loud enough for her to hear. Then adding in almost a whisper, “Elizabeth.”
Will walked down the few steps in front of the large house, longingly looking after the carriage- and Elizabeth. He watched as the carriage drove out of sight, and past the large iron gates. He sighed. Coming out of his reverie of thoughts of Elizabeth, he walked out of the gates, and into the town of the bustling Port Royal.
 
Last edited:
Peanut_Butter said:
Yay! Very good!
Click to expand...
thanks! that's so nice of you.... :p

i don't know.. my thing doesn't measure up to everyone else's here.. but, i'm working on the next part- the sword fight!

i guess i'll still post, if at least for the unknowns who have read this :)
 
Last edited:
Part III: Assisting in the Capture of a Dangerous Fugitive

Part III: Assisting in the Capture of a Dangerous Fugitive

Will milled around the market square nonchalantly. There was a little time to spare before he had to go back to the smithy. But it was so nice today, although there had been a strange wind a short while ago. The sky, clear and blue, was almost cloudless, as the sun gently threw its warm, welcome rays down to the earth. He picked up a banana from a little fruit stand at the side of the square and tossed it in his hand absent-mindedly.
“Hey!” said the old lady manning the stand, “You got to pay for that now!”
Will shook his head, “Excuse me?”
The woman pointed to the fruit in his hand “That. You threw it, you pay for it.”
“But I-” Will began to protest.
“No! You pay!” she said stubbornly.
Will sighed helplessly and fished out a coin from his pocket. He gave her a humorous smile, and handed it to her carefully. He supposed this was his lunch now. The lady closely examined it, gave him a small smile of approval, and tucked the coin into her own pocket. Will wandered to an empty barrel and hoisted himself up onto it. Peeling the banana, he let his eyes wander around the sights of Port Royal. He started to eat, looking at the fort where Norrington was supposedly promoting to Commodore. He had heard fifes and drums playing from inside the walls earlier, but they had since then ceased. He had heard soldiers running down to the docks about ten minutes ago, and wondered about that. Probably some ruffian stirring up trouble, Will guessed. He shrugged to himself.
Suddenly, the sound of gunshots pierced the air. Will looked up just in time to see soldiers running across a small stone bridge into the market square.
“What happened?” a passing man shouted quickly to one of the soldiers passing by.
“A pirate has escaped! He threatened to kill the governor’s daughter!” shouted the soldier quickly, without thinking.
Will, leaning back on the barrel, almost lost his balance when he immediately jumped off of it to his feet. A pirate? Threatened Elizabeth? Where was she? He hoped she was unharmed and all right. He threw his banana peel aside, and licked his lips. It was time to get back to the smithy. He walked quickly on the stone street, careful to stay out of the way of the hasty soldiers. He passed under a wooden doorway with a sign above it. The sign had “J. Brown” written on it. He lifted the block the locked it, and opened the door, sure to bar the door after he was inside. A noise greeted his ears the moment he walked in. He turned curiously towards the sound. It was the donkey going around the large, wooden machine, causing it to rotate around. He looked around suspiciously, before hurrying to the donkey, and calming it. He patted the donkey’s ears, assuring it of safety as he surveyed the rest of the smithy. He walked away a few steps away from the donkey, taking of his jacket, as he slowly approached his worktable. He looked at Brown. He was dead in his sleep.
“Right where I left you.” Will murmured under his breath.
He turned, tossing his jacket aside. A hammer lay on an anvil. Will looked at it, perplexed.
“Not where I left you,” he said. He had made sure he had put everything back before he had left that morning.
He shifted his gaze, to the worktable. A three-cornered, dirty brown hat lay propped on some tools. He reached for it. A sword slapped his hand back from taking it. Will looked up, startled. He stared into the face of a rugged-faced man with shifty eyes dressed in filthy looking clothes. The man had his sword drawn, and it was pointed at Will. The first thing that came to Will’s mind was, ‘Pirate’. He backed away slowly.
“You’re the one they’re hunting.” Will said slowly, “The pirate.”
The man looked at him, confused, “You seem familiar. Have I threatened you before?”
“I make a point of avoiding familiarity with pirates.” Will answered back cautiously. This pirate spoke different that anyone else he had ever heard.
The pirate’s eyes widened, “Ah. It would be a shame to put a black mark on your record.”
He nodded, “So if you’ll excuse me.”
He turned to retrieve his hat. With the pirate’s back toward him, Will seized his chance. He grabbed a sword from the line of swords behind him, and held it, ready to fight. The pirate turned back to face him, slightly surprised.
“Do you think this wise, boy?” he asked, “Crossing blades with a pirate?”
‘Pirate’. The way he said it brought an eerie chill to Will’s spine.
Will raised his sword higher, slightly scowling. “You threatened Miss Swann.”
In his mind he said, ‘That is more than enough reason and wit.’
The pirate put his sword against Will’s, running his blade against Will’s, creating the sharp, scraping noise.
The pirate answered, with a small smirk, “Only a little.”
The pirate lunged forward first, thrusting his sword under Will’s and bringing it around. Will blocked deftly, his sword right back to where it began. He pointed it at the pirate. The pirate jumped forward again with his sword, he hit from the right- a block from Will- he hit from the left- another block- the pirate advanced towards Will, causing him to back up against a stone block. Will swung at him, with a few swings to spare. He pointed his sword at the pirate again, with a smug look. The pirate looked at him curiously. Will leapt at the pirate this time, forcing him back; their swords met, and Will brought his up from underneath, meeting the pirate’s blade. He jabbed his sword quickly. The pirate lowered his weapon.
“You know what you’re doing. I’ll give you that. Excellent form.” The pirate conceded lightly.
Will lowered his sword slightly, still on guard. He took a deep breath as he looked at the pirate skeptically.
The pirate narrowed his eyes, “But how’s your footwork? If I step here-”
The pirate shifted his feet, Will matching every step without looking down once. The pirate hit at Will from below and above; Will parried.
“Very good,” said the pirate, “And now I step again.”
The pirate brought his sword up from underneath, and Will blocked. More movement- the pirate shifted his feet again, crossing his foot over, and stepping to the left. He brought his sword underneath, and Will parried quickly. The pirate swung his sword around Will. Will jabbed his sword upward, meeting the pirate’s own blade. The pirate lowered his sword once again, with a pleased smile on his face. He lunged forward with one last thrust. Will blocked.
The pirate nodded, “Ta.”
He sheathed his sword, and turned toward the wooden door that Will had entered from. Will stood there, confused. That was all? He fought a pirate only for him to escape? It was only one second’s aim, and a strong throw that Will hurled his sword at the wooden door. It whizzed right by the pirate’s head, lodging itself deep into the wooden door. The pirate looked at the sword, wide-eyed. He pulled at the hilt, but it did not budge. Will watched with satisfaction as the pirate tried to pull the sword free.
The pirate finally turned back to Will. He began sauntering toward him, “That is a wonderful trick. Except, once again, you are between me and my way out.”
Will began to back up toward the fireplace.
“And now,” said the pirate, drawing his sword and advancing, “you have no weapon.”
Will turned and grabbed a sword whose blade had been in the hot fire, and was still glowing orange and red, and pointed his sword at the pirate.
The donkey, who had been standing still the whole time, brayed and, still tied to the machine, began to walk around again, causing the machine to start running again. The pirate turned and ran to the right, Will reacted quickly, running to meet him. Swords clashed, and orange sparks flew from Will’s sword, as their swords became a blurred sight. Will jabbed his sword at the pirate from beneath, which the pirate blocked quickly. The pirate thrust a strong blow upon Will, who braced his hand against the pirate’s fighting hand, as he struggled to keep the pirate’s sword from slashing his skin. Will quickly maneuvered his sword under the pirate’s blade, and pushed him off, sending the pirate momentarily staggering. Will’s sword became entangled around the pirate’s chain around his wrist, as the pirate tossed the weapon away. Will gulped nervously, and ducked the pirate’s attempted blows. He dove headfirst over the rotating, wooden machinery and grabbed for another sword that was on a shelf on a pole near the rest, and hopped over the machines to meet the pirate. The pirate was there, thrusting a blow that Will barely enough time to block. Will saw the pirate glance at all the swords with wonder.
“Who makes all these?” the pirate asked, loudly and out of breath, as he thrust a blow.
Will blocked, and answered back, with some pride, “I do!”
The pirate reached around the pole to drive another swing. Will reached around and parried again.
“And I practice with them three hours a day!” Will added breathlessly.
The pirate grabbed a hammer from the rotating machine, and moved around the pole, as he swung it at Will. Will grabbed a second sword. The pirate looked dubious and he looked as if he was wondering what kind of man he was fighting.
“You need to find yourself a girl, mate.” He said.
He swung at Will; Will ducked and knocked the hammer out of the pirate’s hand. Will swung at him again, and the pirate jumped back, and grabbed another hammer that was hanging on the rotating machine. He swung with one of his swords, and the pirate ducked. The pirate’s weapons clashed with Will’s blades. Will was breathing hard. The pirate looked sweaty and oily. They paused for a slight second.


cont'
 
Part III continued

Part III continued

“Or perhaps the reason you practice three hours a day is that you found one and are otherwise incapable of wooing said strumpet.” The pirate said, with a slight hint of mockery in his voice. He paused, and his face became worried as he looked Will over, “You’re not a eunuch, are you?”
Will, a bit insulted, shouted back. “I practice three hours a day so when I meet a pirate,” he looked over the pirate, “I can kill it!”
The pirate raised his eyebrows, as they resumed fighting. Will fought back the pirate with his swords, forcing him up onto part of the top of a wagon that had been partly titled down. Will followed, and the weight of the two men on the wagon broke the flimsy wooden stool that one end of the wagon had been resting on, allowing the other side of the wagon to come slip off of the stone block. The wagon was now teetering from one side to the other, but a determined Will and the pirate fought, sometimes throwing blind blows at each other. They were both wobbling, and Will was struggling to keep his balance as he attempted to successfully wield both swords. Will aimed both swords at the pirate, thrusting them at him one at a time. The pirate jabbed the at Will’s legs, as Will used both swords in an X-like fashion to block it. Another throw, a block- an attempted stab here, and a parry- jabbing, and a quick duck. Will stopped the pirate’s sword with his weapons, as he quickly wound one of the swords around one of the chains on the pirates’ wrist. Will swiftly drove the sword up into one of the low rafters above, making the pirate virtually chained to the ceiling. An amused Will stepped back as he watched the pirate struggle to free himself. The pirate took a wild swing at Will and missed. Will jumped back. Another swing and miss by the pirate. The pirate looked down at his feet, he stepped on a loose board, and send the opposite end flying into Will’s face. Will flew off the end of the wagon and hit the ground hard. Dazed, he shook his head to clear his mind. He looked up to see the pirate hoist himself upside down up onto the sword hilt, legs braced against the rafters, and bouncing the sword up and down. Will jumped to his feet, and eagerly rushed back onto the wagon, waiting for the pirate to come loose from the crossbeam before fighting him again. The pirate shook harder, pushing with his legs and pulling with his arms at the sword. It came loose, causing the pirate to drop about four feet back onto the wagon top, back first. He hit it, and it sent Will up in the air, flying into one of the rafters. Will managed to keep hold of his sword has he struggled to climb onto the crossbeam one handedly. He quickly glanced around his surroundings. He instantly looked down, noticing that the pirate had climbed back onto the wagon top, sword drawn, and was searching for Will. Will looked back to where he was standing, observing that there were barrels all tied together by a net, hanging from a single rope that was conveniently tied to the ceiling right above the wagon top. The pirate glanced up, giving a small, wry grin. Will swung his sword, severing the rope, and sending down the bundle of barrels onto the wagon, quickly wiping the grin off the pirate’s face. The weight of the barrels sent the pirate flying up onto the rafters, catching himself on a beam, trying to swing himself up. He hopped up, sword ready. Will was standing on the crossbeam across from him, and he was enjoying himself. He hopped to the other beam, and the pirate jumped onto his. They caught their balance for a second, and leapt to the opposite rafter, glowering at each other. They waved their swords feebly at each other, grimacing mixed with uneasy grins. The pirate jumped onto Will’s beam, flashing a wide-eyed, toothy smile. Will lunged, and the pirate pulled back, the pirate lunged at Will, and Will stepped back. Will’s feet perched precariously on the rafter. The pirate aimed an off-balanced thrust at Will, who quickly hopped onto the other roof beam. He caught his balance by touching a raised rafter. The pirate skipped onto the beam that Will was standing on. He hit at Will’s sword from the right and left, with Will blocking each time. Will was enjoying this challenge of balance and swordsman-ship as he swung a blow at the pirate, pointing the sword inched away from his face. The pirate half raised a hand, and turned the other way, with the pirate half-cartwheeling off the rafter. Will, beginning to feel exasperated, flipped downward, beating the pirate to solid ground. The pirate landed, looked at Will with some astonishment in his eyes, and looked to the right where a bag of sawdust hung. Will rushed over to him, sword ready to clash with the pirate’s again. Before Will knew what had happened, the pirate flung the bag of dust all over Will, as he instinctively held his breath and tried to shield his eyes. As he did, he could feel the pirate’s boot collide with the flesh on his hand as his sword was kicked out of his hand. Will groped for another weapon from a nearby, and he hastily grabbed a pair of metal tongs that were used for pulling things out of the fire. When his eyes cleared seconds later, with his tongs raised, he found himself staring into the barrel of the pirate’s pistol. The pirate was staring at him with wide eyes.
Will felt betrayed as he panted, “You cheated.”
“Pirate,” the red-faced man reminded him.
Suddenly, Will heard the poorly-made, wooden doorway jostling. Will could make out the silhouettes of soldiers outside. The pirate could see them too. His pistol was still aimed at Will. Will turned to look behind him at the second door, a few feet beyond from where he was standing. He still had his metal tongs held above his head, as he stepped in front of the doorway.
“Move away,” the pirate ordered.
“No.” Will answered resolutely. This pirate would not escape while Will was alive here. He would have to die first.
“Please move,” the pirate asked, sounding exasperated and desperate at the same time.
“No!” Will shouted, “I cannot just step aside and let you escape.”
He looked toward the door once more. The pirate looked at him and he released the safety lock.
“This shot was not meant for you.” the pirate said warningly.
Will paused, was that Brown behind him? He shot a look at the pirate; did he know? Will saw Brown raise the glass bottle he had been holding in his hand all night and day. CRASH! The pirate fell face down, apparently knocked out cold, with eyes still open. Behind him revealed a groggy looking Brown, with a broken bottle. Will guessed Brown was good at something besides making swords and tools. He peered at the fallen pirate, but his attention was drawn away as soldiers from the King’s Navy flooded the smithy.
“There he is!” shouted one, “Over here!”
The servicemen trained their rifles on the face-down pirate. A commander with a white wig and clad in a blue and gold uniform- Will guessed to be Norrington or someone near of his rank- entered, revolver raised at first but lowered as he came along side of Brown.
“Excellent work, Mr. Brown,” he said, “You’ve assisted in the capture of a dangerous fugitive.”
“Just doing my civic duty, sir.” said Brown casually.
Will knew, as an apprentice, he would not get the credit for “assisting in capturing a dangerous fugitive”, but his master, Brown, would. He shrugged it off. As long as Elizabeth wasn’t here, that was all right with him. He let it go with nothing but a slightly raised eyebrow.
“Well, I trust that you will always remember this as the day that Captain Jack Sparrow almost escaped,” the commander said calmly. “Take him away.” he ordered his men.
Will sighed. He was a little tired now, as he resolved to put even more time into practicing his swordsman-ship. Already the men were clearing out the pirate- Jack Sparrow- out of the smithy. So he had dueled with the notorious Captain Jack Sparrow? He replaced the tongs that he had been holding, and rubbed his dirty brow. He would have to go and wash his face later on that day. But first, he decided, he should probably put the smithy back together. The last soldier closed the door, and Will began to pick up the various weapons that had been strewn about the smithy during the fight. Brown picked up his broken bottle and looked at it with a regretful sigh.


(sorry it's so long! :o )
 
Peanut_Butter said:
Why are you sorry? Long is GREAT!!!!!
I love this story!
Click to expand...
well, im sorry that it might be hard on your eyes! :o

yeah, it took me a while to get this part up.. i had to slow down and analye almost every sword move.. and i had no idea what all those sword moves are called...

lol- im basically "Will-ifying" the story, writing it from his perspective, and adding a few parts while the movie was with Elizabeth and Jack to fill it in....

whew... sorry about dumping all that on you!!
 
Wow, this is really well written! I like that it's from Will's point of view, but I'm a little confused. This is supposed to be a short story, right? It seems as if you're simply retelling the movie from Will's point of view.
 
I think that when she started out, in her mind it was going to be a short story. But then I wanted more so she continued to write more...I think that's what she said. Idk, she edited her posts in the begining so if I'm wrong it will be on the first page. I'm sorry if this just confused you more! :D
 
Last edited:
you're right, Peanut_Butter! i asked Michelle to change the title..

andim thrilled to have a comment from a writer like you! thank you for the great comment, Kalakali!

thank you all for reading, it's encouraging!
 
Ya...I thought that you changed the title!
I looked at it and knew something was different but I couldn't figure out what!
I really like this story! You're a really good writer!
 
Peanut_Butter said:
Ya...I thought that you changed the title!
I looked at it and knew something was different but I couldn't figure out what!
I really like this story! You're a really good writer!
Click to expand...
lol- thank you so much!

your comments really do encourage me to keep writing! (i know that sounds stupid, but that's how i feel ;))
 
Back
Top