Of Fire and Sea
folder
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,585
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
1
Views:
1,585
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Of Fire and Sea
This is my very first PotC fiction so please be gentle. Also, I know this pairing is terribly underrepresented, and not many like it, but I think it's the sweetest possible pairing and I love James and Will together. Please tell me what you think!!!!!! *puppy eyes*
Of Fire and Sea
Will couldn’t sleep. The night was too loud and too silent at the same time. Even though he lived at the far end of the town, right at the seashore, the heavy laughter of the drunk and the high, forced giggling of the whores weighed heavily on the small room and covered up the soothing sound of the waves crashing at the sharp black rocks. It wasn’t easy to get used to these lively noises after 10 long years at sea.
10 years of carrying souls to the other side.
10 years without feeling solid ground under his feet.
10 years of solitude.
10 years of freedom.
He missed that life. He missed the constant uncertainty in his steps that reminded him of Jack. He missed the silent talks with his crew – a selected few who as a reward for their bravery, (very rarely) purity or some good deed in their past were allowed to sail with him for 10 years before they themselves were ferried to the white shores of eternity.
He had become quite close to them over the years, learned a lot about their past, valued them for their loyalty and learned to forgive their mistakes. He was a good many years younger than most of them and much less experienced in the whims of the sea but nobody ever complained. They were grateful for being allowed to row the sea for some more years and showed patience and understanding towards their Captain. Often they would sit together at night and tell each other stories of far away lands they had seen, heard about or just imagined. They would sing of mermaids, pirates and rum. They would drink and laugh and slowly drift to bittersweet memories of the ones they had left behind in the world of the living.
And then they would fall silent, sensing the sudden bottomless sadness slowly rising in their Captain’s empty chest. They would have helped him with his burden, but didn’t know how, so nobody followed him when he finally stood up and retreated to his cabin. They cared for him as much as haunted souls on the threshold of life and death could for a man whose pained heart was beating in the land of the living, guarded by an angel, but still longed to be in the maddening whiteness of death.
They couldn’t understand why.
Not even his father.
Especially not his father.
That day, when Will became Captain of the Flying Dutchman, they promised each other without words that they would somehow get back all those years they had lost. But they soon had to find out that not every promise can be kept. His father had always been in love with the sea, it was his life and it meant more to him than his wife, his son had. He tried to change but as he had once said, it was in his blood. He was a pirate by choice – Will only by chance. They were too different to really get close to each other, to understand each other and they soon settled to being just comrades, nothing more.
It didn’t help either that whenever Will looked at his father he was reminded of the aching hole in his chest that couldn’t be numbed even by carving out his heart – a painful longing deep in every fibre of his being. Some days the craving was so powerful that it was almost tearing him apart and a bitter teardrop formed behind his dry eyes, slowly sliding down his cheek and falling into the bottomless darkness of the sea.
And She felt it every time and came. Will couldn’t see her, she wouldn’t show herself, but by they way the black waves gently caressed the side of the ship he could tell that she was there, that she cared, that she knew what he felt. She had known from the very first moment she set eyes on him that great pain would be his share. She had tried to warn him, but he just couldn’t see his chance to alter his grim fate.
A touch of destiny…
Standing on the Flying Dutchman, far from the other sailors, looking out on the sea he could almost hear her voice.
All men, they fall in love…
Although they had never talked about it, she had known his deepest secret from the start. And sometimes when he stood by the railing, it almost felt as if she had taken pity on him and summoned a spirit from the other side to ease this unspeakable pain. A lost soul, just like Will himself. It was almost as if they were together again, as if He was caressing Will’s cheek and kissing his trembling lips just like that night that meant the whole world for both of them–
NO, he couldn’t think Him now, not when lying beside Elizabeth. She was sleeping peacefully with her head buried deep in the crook of his neck, her slender form pressed to his side, a gentle, silken arm holding him, crushing him, stifling him. He could barely breathe in the heat of their small room but was afraid to get up in case he should wake her. She was smiling in her sleep, which made her face only more angelic. She was beautiful, gentle and loving.
She was everything he has ever dreamt of – why couldn’t he love her then? Why did he have to think of Him?
Every time she kissed him the taste of sinfully soft lips flooded his mind. Whenever her feather light hand travelled across his body he remembered impatient, desperate fingers probing his entrance. Whenever she pulled him deep inside her soft, warm, awaiting body, he cherished the memory of having Him inside for the first and last time – it was one night, just one night that shattered their worlds for ever. And whenever he came with her name on his lips, his treacherous mind screamed the cruel truth in his ear – James.
James, who had saved his life when he had been a boy.
James, who taught him how to use a sword.
James, who tried to protect him from himself when pushing him away after a fiery night of drunken passion.
James, who saved him again by taking the chest to draw Davy Jones’ crew off.
James, who sacrificed his life for Elizabeth, because he believed Will loved her.
James, who was killed by Will’s own father.
James, who haunted his every second of the last 10 years.
James.
Not Elizabeth.
James.
No one else.
Just James.
James.
Bitter tears started to form behind his eyes again at the memories that flooded him. It was just too much – being here with her, while thinking of him. Out there on the sea he could at least revel in his memories and daydreams and could convince himself that the wind whispered to him in James’ low, soft voice. But here in the suffocating room he couldn’t help but feel guilty for longing his touch, for craving to be together with him in the land of the dead, for wishing she hadn’t waited for him all these years.
He couldn’t take it anymore – her affectionate closeness. And as carefully as he could he entangled himself from her loving prison and turned away from her maddening perfection.
Why couldn’t she just have run off with Jack? He loved her – she was probably the only person he had ever truly loved. They could have been happy. They were so much alike and so much like his father.
Changing and harsh and untameable as the sea…
But she had tried very hard to change, to calm down for his sake. She had given up her true nature when she had given up on Jack, and it made Will feel even more guilty. Why couldn’t he do the same? Why couldn’t he be as strong as Elizabeth? She raised their first child alone for 10 years and stayed true to him even though Jack was probably trying really hard to change her mind, Will was sure of that because he knew that Jack never gave up if he wanted something – and he wanted Elizabeth more than anything in this world. But she was faithful no matter what. And he couldn’t even devote all his heart to her when temptation couldn’t be more out of reach.
If she was like the changing and untameable sea then he was impulsive and passionate like fire. That’s probably why he became a blacksmith – fire was his element and steel his lover. He loved to watch the unique, all consuming love affair of fire and steel through which a sword came to life. Just like his relationship with James. He should have known the first time he saw James that they would end up burnt and bruised. James, the serene Lieutenant everybody looked up to was seemingly cold and hard but deep inside he was pregnant with a hot, fatal glow that only waited for the opportune moment to erupt, like a sleeping volcano. From the first moment when he touched the barely conscious Will that day on sea they both felt it – that spark, that burning need of closeness and the deep desire of knowing each other in and out, in a way only lovers can.
But they couldn’t allow their passion to grow, not in this world where their love was considered unnatural, a crime. He should have talked to James the day they found the chest with the heart of Davy Jones. He should have told him what he truly felt, that his engagement to Elizabeth was just a poor attempt at putting out the flames of his desire, that that night had not been only a drunken mistake but something sacred that he wanted to preserve at all cost. He should have asked James to run away with him to a place where nobody cared, where they could live in sin without being sinners. He should have… but he didn’t.
He was too scared and missed his last chance. By the time he woke up on the Pearl with Elizabeth by his side, James was gone and they would never see each other again.
Will almost jumped as he felt a small, tender hand on his back and heard a quiet voice.
“What’s wrong, love?”
He reluctantly turned around and looked deep into the still sleepy eyes of his beautiful wife. Her hair was sprawled on the soft pillow and partly covered her breast that cheekily peaked out from under the soft sheet, which did very little to cover her slender form and also showed the tiny bulge in her abdomen – their second child.
“Nothing, don’t worry, dear.” he replied, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Why can’t I love her? He put his strong arm around her waist and after placing a light kiss on her red lips he snuggled up behind her and listened to her breathing slowing down again.
He would have to kill his love for James sooner or later. He was needed here, his family needed him. He would have to kill the passion and love that he had harboured for so long and give up his deepest self – just like Elizabeth had when choosing to wait for him.
But what happens when Sea and Fire meet? Can Fire survive or will it be put out for ever?
End
Please review!!!!
Will couldn’t sleep. The night was too loud and too silent at the same time. Even though he lived at the far end of the town, right at the seashore, the heavy laughter of the drunk and the high, forced giggling of the whores weighed heavily on the small room and covered up the soothing sound of the waves crashing at the sharp black rocks. It wasn’t easy to get used to these lively noises after 10 long years at sea.
10 years of carrying souls to the other side.
10 years without feeling solid ground under his feet.
10 years of solitude.
10 years of freedom.
He missed that life. He missed the constant uncertainty in his steps that reminded him of Jack. He missed the silent talks with his crew – a selected few who as a reward for their bravery, (very rarely) purity or some good deed in their past were allowed to sail with him for 10 years before they themselves were ferried to the white shores of eternity.
He had become quite close to them over the years, learned a lot about their past, valued them for their loyalty and learned to forgive their mistakes. He was a good many years younger than most of them and much less experienced in the whims of the sea but nobody ever complained. They were grateful for being allowed to row the sea for some more years and showed patience and understanding towards their Captain. Often they would sit together at night and tell each other stories of far away lands they had seen, heard about or just imagined. They would sing of mermaids, pirates and rum. They would drink and laugh and slowly drift to bittersweet memories of the ones they had left behind in the world of the living.
And then they would fall silent, sensing the sudden bottomless sadness slowly rising in their Captain’s empty chest. They would have helped him with his burden, but didn’t know how, so nobody followed him when he finally stood up and retreated to his cabin. They cared for him as much as haunted souls on the threshold of life and death could for a man whose pained heart was beating in the land of the living, guarded by an angel, but still longed to be in the maddening whiteness of death.
They couldn’t understand why.
Not even his father.
Especially not his father.
That day, when Will became Captain of the Flying Dutchman, they promised each other without words that they would somehow get back all those years they had lost. But they soon had to find out that not every promise can be kept. His father had always been in love with the sea, it was his life and it meant more to him than his wife, his son had. He tried to change but as he had once said, it was in his blood. He was a pirate by choice – Will only by chance. They were too different to really get close to each other, to understand each other and they soon settled to being just comrades, nothing more.
It didn’t help either that whenever Will looked at his father he was reminded of the aching hole in his chest that couldn’t be numbed even by carving out his heart – a painful longing deep in every fibre of his being. Some days the craving was so powerful that it was almost tearing him apart and a bitter teardrop formed behind his dry eyes, slowly sliding down his cheek and falling into the bottomless darkness of the sea.
And She felt it every time and came. Will couldn’t see her, she wouldn’t show herself, but by they way the black waves gently caressed the side of the ship he could tell that she was there, that she cared, that she knew what he felt. She had known from the very first moment she set eyes on him that great pain would be his share. She had tried to warn him, but he just couldn’t see his chance to alter his grim fate.
A touch of destiny…
Standing on the Flying Dutchman, far from the other sailors, looking out on the sea he could almost hear her voice.
All men, they fall in love…
Although they had never talked about it, she had known his deepest secret from the start. And sometimes when he stood by the railing, it almost felt as if she had taken pity on him and summoned a spirit from the other side to ease this unspeakable pain. A lost soul, just like Will himself. It was almost as if they were together again, as if He was caressing Will’s cheek and kissing his trembling lips just like that night that meant the whole world for both of them–
NO, he couldn’t think Him now, not when lying beside Elizabeth. She was sleeping peacefully with her head buried deep in the crook of his neck, her slender form pressed to his side, a gentle, silken arm holding him, crushing him, stifling him. He could barely breathe in the heat of their small room but was afraid to get up in case he should wake her. She was smiling in her sleep, which made her face only more angelic. She was beautiful, gentle and loving.
She was everything he has ever dreamt of – why couldn’t he love her then? Why did he have to think of Him?
Every time she kissed him the taste of sinfully soft lips flooded his mind. Whenever her feather light hand travelled across his body he remembered impatient, desperate fingers probing his entrance. Whenever she pulled him deep inside her soft, warm, awaiting body, he cherished the memory of having Him inside for the first and last time – it was one night, just one night that shattered their worlds for ever. And whenever he came with her name on his lips, his treacherous mind screamed the cruel truth in his ear – James.
James, who had saved his life when he had been a boy.
James, who taught him how to use a sword.
James, who tried to protect him from himself when pushing him away after a fiery night of drunken passion.
James, who saved him again by taking the chest to draw Davy Jones’ crew off.
James, who sacrificed his life for Elizabeth, because he believed Will loved her.
James, who was killed by Will’s own father.
James, who haunted his every second of the last 10 years.
James.
Not Elizabeth.
James.
No one else.
Just James.
James.
Bitter tears started to form behind his eyes again at the memories that flooded him. It was just too much – being here with her, while thinking of him. Out there on the sea he could at least revel in his memories and daydreams and could convince himself that the wind whispered to him in James’ low, soft voice. But here in the suffocating room he couldn’t help but feel guilty for longing his touch, for craving to be together with him in the land of the dead, for wishing she hadn’t waited for him all these years.
He couldn’t take it anymore – her affectionate closeness. And as carefully as he could he entangled himself from her loving prison and turned away from her maddening perfection.
Why couldn’t she just have run off with Jack? He loved her – she was probably the only person he had ever truly loved. They could have been happy. They were so much alike and so much like his father.
Changing and harsh and untameable as the sea…
But she had tried very hard to change, to calm down for his sake. She had given up her true nature when she had given up on Jack, and it made Will feel even more guilty. Why couldn’t he do the same? Why couldn’t he be as strong as Elizabeth? She raised their first child alone for 10 years and stayed true to him even though Jack was probably trying really hard to change her mind, Will was sure of that because he knew that Jack never gave up if he wanted something – and he wanted Elizabeth more than anything in this world. But she was faithful no matter what. And he couldn’t even devote all his heart to her when temptation couldn’t be more out of reach.
If she was like the changing and untameable sea then he was impulsive and passionate like fire. That’s probably why he became a blacksmith – fire was his element and steel his lover. He loved to watch the unique, all consuming love affair of fire and steel through which a sword came to life. Just like his relationship with James. He should have known the first time he saw James that they would end up burnt and bruised. James, the serene Lieutenant everybody looked up to was seemingly cold and hard but deep inside he was pregnant with a hot, fatal glow that only waited for the opportune moment to erupt, like a sleeping volcano. From the first moment when he touched the barely conscious Will that day on sea they both felt it – that spark, that burning need of closeness and the deep desire of knowing each other in and out, in a way only lovers can.
But they couldn’t allow their passion to grow, not in this world where their love was considered unnatural, a crime. He should have talked to James the day they found the chest with the heart of Davy Jones. He should have told him what he truly felt, that his engagement to Elizabeth was just a poor attempt at putting out the flames of his desire, that that night had not been only a drunken mistake but something sacred that he wanted to preserve at all cost. He should have asked James to run away with him to a place where nobody cared, where they could live in sin without being sinners. He should have… but he didn’t.
He was too scared and missed his last chance. By the time he woke up on the Pearl with Elizabeth by his side, James was gone and they would never see each other again.
Will almost jumped as he felt a small, tender hand on his back and heard a quiet voice.
“What’s wrong, love?”
He reluctantly turned around and looked deep into the still sleepy eyes of his beautiful wife. Her hair was sprawled on the soft pillow and partly covered her breast that cheekily peaked out from under the soft sheet, which did very little to cover her slender form and also showed the tiny bulge in her abdomen – their second child.
“Nothing, don’t worry, dear.” he replied, trying to keep the desperation out of his voice. Why can’t I love her? He put his strong arm around her waist and after placing a light kiss on her red lips he snuggled up behind her and listened to her breathing slowing down again.
He would have to kill his love for James sooner or later. He was needed here, his family needed him. He would have to kill the passion and love that he had harboured for so long and give up his deepest self – just like Elizabeth had when choosing to wait for him.
But what happens when Sea and Fire meet? Can Fire survive or will it be put out for ever?
End
Please review!!!!