TITLE: The Turning of the Tides 1/?

AUTHOR: Seraphina )

PAIRING: eventual Jack/Will slash

RATING: All over R but varying (anything over will be censored and the original version posted to )

SUMMARY: Set after the events on the film, Will realises that perhaps the life he's chosen with Elizabeth isn't for him.

DISCALIMER: Not mine, never was, and unfortunately, never will be.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: You may have seen this fic previously on under the pen name 'seraphinikins'. My account was closed due to faults that were entirely my own but had nothing to do with this particular fiction. So yes, this is a repost but have finally added some new chapters!

CHAPTER 1

It didn't take long for him to realise that it wasn't going to work between them. It was a classic clear cut case of the age old 'we're from two different worlds' saga.

Will's brief stint on the high seas- well the Caribbean Sea at least- had awoken in him something that had managed to remain dormant for nigh on nineteen years, but had since left him longing for the feel of a ship's decking beneath his feet, rocking with the swell of the waves.

Jack knew it all along. As presumptuous as he'd been in announcing that piracy undeniably coursed through the veins of the young Turner, and as loathe as Will was to admit it, Jack had been right.

Something had changed in him but as things stood now, it would seem that he wouldn't be changing back into his old self at any time in the foreseeable future.

Will was indeed a blacksmith and a talented one at that. But he was also a blacksmith of pirate stock, and definitely not a gentleman. More to the point, he would never be a gentleman.

There was no noble blood flowing in him, waiting for the opportune moment to reveal itself and sate his desperate need for the sea. He'd felt the freedom that was there to be tasted in the spray of the ocean and there was no going back.

Elizabeth's and his adventure together had at first served as a novelty to her but she was what she was and now she turned to Will to be the fiancé that she sought. The fiancé she had assumed Will would become; a gentleman fiancé who would one day be her gentleman husband with all the trimmings and then some.

But in his heart of hearts, Will knew that he could never be what Elizabeth wanted. He couldn't run a noble household and parade around with the stuffed shirt 'who's who' of Port Royale society pretending to be one of them.

Will first realised how futile his situation was on the afternoon leading up to their engagement party. It was to be a grand affair and governors and other officials had been arriving from other nearby colonies for the two days preceding the event. Elizabeth's insistence on having Will arrive at the Governor's Manor by no later than one o'clock had sent the first set of alarm bells ringing in his head. The second set began their frantic clanging not long after his appearance at the extensive residence as Elizabeth ushered him into one of the empty guest's quarters along with seven male servants.

They had promptly proceeded to strip him of his humble blacksmith's attire, despite his extremely loud and lengthy protests which proved more than innocuously useless as he was unceremoniously dumped into a small copper tub. The next few minutes were spent trying to avoid humiliation as he was forcedly scrubbed from head to toe in frigid water before being dragged out again and poked, powdered and prodded as fourteen hands dried and swathed him in what was claimed to be 'the latest London fashion'.

Elizabeth reappeared just in time for the donning of the snow white horse hair wig that curled above his ears and was fastened in a pony tail at the back with a piece of blue ribbon. In spite of the thunderous expression that marred Will's features, she smiled broadly and exclaimed with hands clutched to her breast in praise, how wonderfully handsome he looked.

Will's jaw dropped as a hand was waved and gilt mirror brought before him. The Will Turner he saw before him demonstrated anything but his idea of handsome.

"I look like a bloody great peacock."

His reflection scowled back at him, seemingly just as unimpressed with the sight that it was presented with.

His face, once slightly tanned from his seafaring ventures was now a delicate porcelain colour, lips and cheeks rouged, reminding him distinctly of the whores that could be found pedaling their wares in the taverns Jack Sparrow had introduced him to. And how the pirate captain would laugh if he could see Will as he were now.

He gaped as his eyes wandered down to take in the rest of the garb; a true violation to his being if ever there was one. Polished black court shoes with a two inch heels and garishly ornate gold buckles encased his feet. White silk stocks clung to his strong calves and lead to a pair of ghastly golden silk breeches that displayed his assets far to much for him to feel comfortable standing before his future wife in and indeed be deemed appropriate. From under a blue silk waistcoat, a white linen shirt poked out; the only thing he could conceive the wearing of and it was barely visible.

A teal coloured dress coat that fell to just above the blacksmith's silk covered knees completed the look; flowers of thin gold thread embroidered all over the garment and gold buttons adorning the front panels and the ridiculously oversized bell cuffs.

"Don't be silly William,"

Elizabeth had taken to calling him by his full Christian name of late. Maybe that should have alerted the first set of warning bells.

"You look wonderful."

For the first time, Will actually shifted his wide eyed gaze in the mirror to take stock of what his fiancée was wearing. As he took her appearance in, he forced a pleasant expression onto his face.

"We're colour coordinated."

Elizabeth's reflection laughed, not hearing the grinding of Will's teeth behind the forced smile.

"I know," she said, clapping her hands together in delight." Isn't it marvellous?"

"Oh yes," Will ground out. "Isn't it indeed."

His brow creased as a small silver box appeared in Elizabeth's hand and he turned to face her.

"What do you have there?" His voice was laced with suspicion and he realised that he was afraid of the answer.

Elizabeth didn't reply but instead opened the box and delicately stuck a finger in. It would seem that his fear had been warranted as his eyes flew open and he backed away from the supposed woman of his dreams, hands up in a defensive gesture as if she brandished a pistol.

"Oh come along William," she said, smiling sweetly as she moved, or stalked rather, towards him. "It's the latest mode in gai Paris."

She held her right index finger aloft and on it, like some large and very ugly black beetle, sat a beauty spot in the shape of a star.

"Elizabeth," he looked at her pleadingly, having reached the wall and finding there was no where else to run. "I can't wear that."

"Of course you can my darling," she cooed, still wearing the ridiculously unwavering smile on her face. "For me?"

As Will was all but forcedly held down and the beauty spot applied, Elizabeth ran through table etiquette, ticking things off on her fingers as she waltzed around the room, occasionally giving advice to the servants who were straightening Will's outfit.

"Now William I shall need to run through cutlery with you before-"

"I know how to use a blasted knife and fork, Elizabeth."

He was angrily swatting away a servant who had been adjusting his breeches with far too much familiarity around the crotch area. Jack had once told him that the only things that mattered in life was what a man could do and what a man couldn't do. At that moment, Will decided that there also existed the small matter of what a man would do and what a man wouldn't do because for him with each passing minute that thin line was being pushed towards breaking point.

Elizabeth gave him a tight lipped smile.

"Yes I know you do dear but tonight there will be multiple knives and forks for multiple courses and I don't want you embarrassing yourse-"

"You mean you don't want me embarrassing you," he said angrily pulling away from the servants.

He tugged at the front of his breeches trying to make them cling less but only succeeded them and pulling them tighter up his arse. At least the dress coat covered that.

"Don't worry Elizabeth, I'm not a complete savage. I think I can handle the cutlery. I did make the damn things after all."

Elizabeth huffed and retreated with a swirl of gold and teal skirts.

Will scowled and turned to look at himself in the mirror again, not regretting in the slightest the harsh tone he'd used with her as he saw the pompous ass looking back at him wearing an identical scowl.

Regret would come later on that night, when Will would wish that he'd listened to what Elizabeth had said as he mulled over the eight pieces of beautifully handcrafted utensils that lay either side of his Wedgwood dinner plate, trying to draw as little attention to himself as possible as he scratched at the irritating wig and ignored the gleeful smirk that was plastered on Norrington's face at the lad's obvious discomfort.

It was then that Will Turner realised that he was way out of his league. Oh how the tides had turned.