Title: Dedicated to Laughter
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: Elizabeth Swann/Will Turner, Jack Sparrow
Summary: Stage directors had already flooded the earth with posters.
Notes: Set after the third movie.
The sea sang them lullabies, mother and siren at once. Will came to ground rarely, despite his broken curse. Her duties discharged in the evenings, Elizabeth joined him in the cradle of his ship. She savored the stormless skies and the salt of his skin. There were a hundred stories he could share with her, and she demanded every one.
They traded tales every night, and every broken dawn was a wonder.
Will lounged in the rigging above Elizabeth's head, his bare wrists tangling in and out of the rope. She relaxed into the ropes, as well, resting her head against his knee. At the helm, Jack squabbled with the bo'sun about the natural order of a ship, which ended with Jack flicking the bo'sun on the nose.
Will snorted, and Elizabeth reached up, wrapping her fingers around his right ankle. "He is very well-favored and he speaks very shrewishly," she quoted. "One would think his mother's milk were scarce out of him."
Ambling towards them, Jack scowled even as Will snickered. "Unkind, Elizabeth," he rumbled. "But he that hath a beard is more than a youth; and he that hath no beard is less than a man." At that, he smirked up at Will, as if he was clever.
"Aye," Will said, stretching, and Elizabeth felt the rope ripple under her shoulders. She rubbed her thumb slowly over his skin. His fingers dangled down, catching a lock of her hair, and she stifled a purr.
Jack leered and started singing of the lark and the nightingale.
Will's laugh was sharp and sudden, like a knife through the heart. "Do you remember that Christmas," he asked Elizabeth, "when they made your father play the Nurse?"
Elizabeth tilted her head up, cackling. "And he kept tripping in his robes. He was so embarrassed!" Will twined his fingers in her hair, and she grasped the ropes above her head, climbed until they were almost even.
Will dropped a single kiss behind her ear. "What would he think, to see you dressed like this," he tapped a finger against her trousered leg, "climbing like a sailor?"
She smiled. "I don't think he'd be surprised." She edged closer to Will, the ropes shifting under their weight. "He wanted me to be happy," she murmured.
Will cupped her cheek in his hand, pressing their lips together like a vow.
"A host," Jack said, clearing his throat, "should offer his guest every hospitality." He waggled his eyebrows in the direction of Elizabeth's ankle.
"You're not a guest, Jack," Will retorted, a smile ghosting his lips. "You're family."
Surprise dashed across Jack's face, chased by a clear, bright pleasure.
Then Will swung down from the ropes and flipped Jack over the side of the ship.
"Will!" Elizabeth exclaimed, dropping to the deck neatly.
Together, they leaned over the side and watched Jack emerge from the water, sputtering.
"Unkind, Will," Jack shouted. "Unkind."
Will smirked and called for a ladder and a bottle of rum.
When the sun rose, Elizabeth stirred in Will's arms. He grumbled, tightening the loop of his arm around her waist. She tugged at his arm, trailing kisses over his shoulder until he woke, rolling to brace himself over her.
"We can't," she said, half-protesting. "William will wake soon."
Will dipped his head, touched his tongue to the hollow of her throat. "He's near-grown," he countered. "The crew treats him as one of their own." Will shifted lower. "He loves wandering the ship."
Elizabeth twisted, biting her lip. "Jack's still here," she noted.
Will froze, then cursed. "Jack could have him halfway to Shanghai by now," he said.
"Then we'd best get out of bed," she replied. She extricated herself from the cage of Will's arms, struggling to hold the blanket to her chest.
Will eyed her slowly. "Then again--"
"Will," Elizabeth said.
He sighed, and closed his eyes as she rose, smiling.
A/N: Title and summary adapted from Marin Sorescu's Shakespeare Created the World in Seven Days. Link courtesy of breathe_poetry.