For luvvycat, "Port in a Storm" by sequence_fairy
Title: Port In A Storm
Author: Jess (sequence_fairy )
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack and Elizabeth and Will (Friendship!)
Summary: The weather outside is frightful, but the friendship inside is delightful.
Notes: This is for luvvycat , and is just a bit of Christmas fluff.
Port in a Storm
A December gale howls around the eaves of the house, the rain lashing the windows and the wind making the panes rattle in their frames. Elizabeth Swann, asleep in the window seat of her sitting room, does not notice the ship limping into the harbor nor does she notice that her companion on this vigil has slipped out to meet the ship. She wakes as the door slams to find him gone and rouses the maid.
Will Turner, granted a reprieve from his eternal duty to celebrate Christmas with his beloved, is heading down to the harbor in the gale. The wind drags at his coat, trying to wrest his hat from the grip he has on it with a gloved hand. The other hand holds the collar of his coat turned up against the weather. The rain is like ice against his face and he hurries along the trail to the base of the cliff that protects Elizabeth’s little house from the greedy waves that pound the shoreline.
Once Will reaches the shoreline, he turns his back to the wind and withdraws the lantern he’d hidden in his coat to light it. It takes some doing, but Will manages to get the lantern lit, and holds it aloft to guide those coming ashore to him. The waves drag at the sand around his booted feet, and Will can feel the call of the sea in his blood, the song of Calypso in the waves and the howling wind. How enthralling would it be to battle this storm from the deck of his supernatural ship? Will shakes his head to clear the rain from his eyes and strains to make out the shadow of a boat in the darkness. Catching a glimpse of a lantern in the swells, Will can barely make out the silhouette of the passenger. Will swings his lantern, a sturdy windproof design, found in the wreck of an English merchant vessel, signaling his position.
After what seems an age, the little boat and its passenger grounds out about ten feet from dry land. Will rushes into the surging surf to help pull the boat to shore. A wave engulfs the lantern and blindly Will pushes on, until he misses his footing and is swept head over heels. A strong hand catches the back of his coat and Will finds his feet, his heart, if he still had it, would be pounding, as it is the adrenaline still pulses through his body. Looking up at his saviour, Will squints to make out features. A crooked grin emerges from under a hat, pulled down to keep it on and the rain off.
“Captain Sparrow!” Will exclaims, a smile breaking the curious expression on his face. The gold in Jack’s grin glints in a flash of lightening and Jack jumps into the surf. The waves drag at the pair as they hurry to pull the boat out of the surf. It’s hard going, and by the end, both men are soaked through and chilled to the bone. Lightning strikes one of the trees on the cliff opposite of the cove and Will feels the thunder in his bones. He looks at Jack and both men hurry towards the path.
Will recovers his lantern and makes an attempt to light it again; without luck as the wick is completely soaked. Jack and Will make the long climb in the dark, aiming for the glow in the windows of Elizabeth’s small house. The wind buffets them from all sides, dragging at their clothes and pulling at their hats. The thunder is rolling all around. Once they reach the top of the cliff, Jack turns to look out over the ocean again, as does Will. Neither man can make out the Black Pearl, and Will sends out a silent prayer to Calypso for the safety of the crew. As they reach the door, Will pushes it open softly, and ushers Jack inside and out of the weather.
Both men strip to their drawers in the hall and huddle into the warmed blankets that Elizabeth dispatched her maid, Emma, to find upon waking to find Will gone down to the beach. Elizabeth fusses around them both, Will accepting the attention gratefully and Jack rather begrudgingly. Emma is sent for warmed rum for Will and Jack and a cup of chocolate for Elizabeth. Elizabeth leads both men up the stairs to her private sitting room and settles them both in front of the fire before heading to her bedroom to search out clothes that will fit them.
By the time she returns, both men have wrapped hands around mugs of mulled rum, the spicy sweet scent filling the room as they sip and thaw. Elizabeth carries with her a couple of pairs of pants and two soft cotton shirts as well as warm, woollen socks. Offering the men their clothes she leaves to see about their wet things.
Meanwhile, the men change and Jack settles on the window seat while Will takes the high-backed arm chair near the fire, leaving the sofa for Elizabeth when she returns. Both men are silent, each thinking about the storm. Jack about his ship and Will about the death it will cause. Will can feel the malevolence in the wind that batters and buffets the house. It’s built strongly though, and no cold air whistles in around the windows or the eaves and with a fire burning merrily in the hearth, one can almost forget the storm.
Elizabeth soon returns, having sent Emma back to bed and dealt with the wet clothes in the front hall. She enters the room carrying Jack’s hat which she places on the mantle, to help it dry. Her mug of chocolate is waiting for her on the table by the sofa and she gratefully takes a sip, savouring the warmth. Catching the eyes of both men, she raises her mug and they follow suit.
“To friends,” she says her voice warm and liquid from sleepiness.
“Aye, to friends and ports in a storm,” Jack answers, and Will nods in agreement.
Somewhere in the house a clock chimes the hour and Elizabeth smiles, “happy Christmas,” she says, again raising her mug. Both men do the same.
The three wearily attempt conversation, but before too long Elizabeth is stretched out asleep on the couch and Jack has nodded off on the window seat. Will, shaking his head at his beloved and their closest friend, goes in search of quilts and returning to the sitting room with them, he covers first Elizabeth, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Elizabeth smiles in her sleep and murmurs something indecipherable and Will brushes her cheek with his hand. Will then gently unwraps Jack’s hands from the empty mug and settles a quilt over him as well. Satisfied with his work, he settles back into the armchair to keep watch over his family. The fire pops and snaps, and the warm rum
*End
Author: Jess (sequence_fairy )
Rating: PG
Pairing: Jack and Elizabeth and Will (Friendship!)
Summary: The weather outside is frightful, but the friendship inside is delightful.
Notes: This is for luvvycat , and is just a bit of Christmas fluff.
Port in a Storm
A December gale howls around the eaves of the house, the rain lashing the windows and the wind making the panes rattle in their frames. Elizabeth Swann, asleep in the window seat of her sitting room, does not notice the ship limping into the harbor nor does she notice that her companion on this vigil has slipped out to meet the ship. She wakes as the door slams to find him gone and rouses the maid.
Will Turner, granted a reprieve from his eternal duty to celebrate Christmas with his beloved, is heading down to the harbor in the gale. The wind drags at his coat, trying to wrest his hat from the grip he has on it with a gloved hand. The other hand holds the collar of his coat turned up against the weather. The rain is like ice against his face and he hurries along the trail to the base of the cliff that protects Elizabeth’s little house from the greedy waves that pound the shoreline.
Once Will reaches the shoreline, he turns his back to the wind and withdraws the lantern he’d hidden in his coat to light it. It takes some doing, but Will manages to get the lantern lit, and holds it aloft to guide those coming ashore to him. The waves drag at the sand around his booted feet, and Will can feel the call of the sea in his blood, the song of Calypso in the waves and the howling wind. How enthralling would it be to battle this storm from the deck of his supernatural ship? Will shakes his head to clear the rain from his eyes and strains to make out the shadow of a boat in the darkness. Catching a glimpse of a lantern in the swells, Will can barely make out the silhouette of the passenger. Will swings his lantern, a sturdy windproof design, found in the wreck of an English merchant vessel, signaling his position.
After what seems an age, the little boat and its passenger grounds out about ten feet from dry land. Will rushes into the surging surf to help pull the boat to shore. A wave engulfs the lantern and blindly Will pushes on, until he misses his footing and is swept head over heels. A strong hand catches the back of his coat and Will finds his feet, his heart, if he still had it, would be pounding, as it is the adrenaline still pulses through his body. Looking up at his saviour, Will squints to make out features. A crooked grin emerges from under a hat, pulled down to keep it on and the rain off.
“Captain Sparrow!” Will exclaims, a smile breaking the curious expression on his face. The gold in Jack’s grin glints in a flash of lightening and Jack jumps into the surf. The waves drag at the pair as they hurry to pull the boat out of the surf. It’s hard going, and by the end, both men are soaked through and chilled to the bone. Lightning strikes one of the trees on the cliff opposite of the cove and Will feels the thunder in his bones. He looks at Jack and both men hurry towards the path.
Will recovers his lantern and makes an attempt to light it again; without luck as the wick is completely soaked. Jack and Will make the long climb in the dark, aiming for the glow in the windows of Elizabeth’s small house. The wind buffets them from all sides, dragging at their clothes and pulling at their hats. The thunder is rolling all around. Once they reach the top of the cliff, Jack turns to look out over the ocean again, as does Will. Neither man can make out the Black Pearl, and Will sends out a silent prayer to Calypso for the safety of the crew. As they reach the door, Will pushes it open softly, and ushers Jack inside and out of the weather.
Both men strip to their drawers in the hall and huddle into the warmed blankets that Elizabeth dispatched her maid, Emma, to find upon waking to find Will gone down to the beach. Elizabeth fusses around them both, Will accepting the attention gratefully and Jack rather begrudgingly. Emma is sent for warmed rum for Will and Jack and a cup of chocolate for Elizabeth. Elizabeth leads both men up the stairs to her private sitting room and settles them both in front of the fire before heading to her bedroom to search out clothes that will fit them.
By the time she returns, both men have wrapped hands around mugs of mulled rum, the spicy sweet scent filling the room as they sip and thaw. Elizabeth carries with her a couple of pairs of pants and two soft cotton shirts as well as warm, woollen socks. Offering the men their clothes she leaves to see about their wet things.
Meanwhile, the men change and Jack settles on the window seat while Will takes the high-backed arm chair near the fire, leaving the sofa for Elizabeth when she returns. Both men are silent, each thinking about the storm. Jack about his ship and Will about the death it will cause. Will can feel the malevolence in the wind that batters and buffets the house. It’s built strongly though, and no cold air whistles in around the windows or the eaves and with a fire burning merrily in the hearth, one can almost forget the storm.
Elizabeth soon returns, having sent Emma back to bed and dealt with the wet clothes in the front hall. She enters the room carrying Jack’s hat which she places on the mantle, to help it dry. Her mug of chocolate is waiting for her on the table by the sofa and she gratefully takes a sip, savouring the warmth. Catching the eyes of both men, she raises her mug and they follow suit.
“To friends,” she says her voice warm and liquid from sleepiness.
“Aye, to friends and ports in a storm,” Jack answers, and Will nods in agreement.
Somewhere in the house a clock chimes the hour and Elizabeth smiles, “happy Christmas,” she says, again raising her mug. Both men do the same.
The three wearily attempt conversation, but before too long Elizabeth is stretched out asleep on the couch and Jack has nodded off on the window seat. Will, shaking his head at his beloved and their closest friend, goes in search of quilts and returning to the sitting room with them, he covers first Elizabeth, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Elizabeth smiles in her sleep and murmurs something indecipherable and Will brushes her cheek with his hand. Will then gently unwraps Jack’s hands from the empty mug and settles a quilt over him as well. Satisfied with his work, he settles back into the armchair to keep watch over his family. The fire pops and snaps, and the warm rum
*End