I love Pirates of the Caribbean. The Curse of the Black Pearl is one of my top three favorite movies. I had this idea for a PotC fanfic where instead of finding Captain Jack Sparrow's compass to pardon himself and Elizabeth in Dead Man's Chest, Will Turner was recruited to fight for England in the Revolutionary War. I had a lot of exciting ideas for it, such as James Norrington and Will Turner friendship, more pirate Elizabeth Swann, Hamilton references, and the Cabin Boy from On Stranger Tides. For now, the story will live on in my notebook and brain. I really liked the first chapter though, so I'm posting it here. Drink up, me hearties. Yo ho! (Also, can we agree that the Marry Me suite is one of the most beautiful romance soundtracks?)

One More Day

The Caribbean Sea was unlike the Atlantic Ocean. The water was a brighter, greener blue contrast to the dark, cold blue. A warm wind blew from the south rather than the cold, harsh wind from the north. The Atlantic was cold and powerful. Every wave threatened to shatter the foreign object out of its territory. In comparison, the Caribbean felt lively. It lapped welcomingly at the hull. The HMS Dauntless  soared smoothly across the water, picking up speed in friendly waves.

If she voiced these personifications aloud, her father would call it nonsense and Lieutenant Norrington would have a logical explanation for the changes she felt. So she kept them to herself.

  Mother would understand, she thought. Elizabeth Swann folded her arms against the railing as she gazed at the sea from the prow of the proud ship. Soon, they will be home.

She heard soft steps behind her and turned her head. Still slightly frail yet standing on strong legs was their unexpected passenger, Will Turner. The boy looked abashed, lowering his head, smiling shyly and clasping his hands behind his back. There was a tinge of pink in his cheeks, which was the most color she had seen in his face since he was brought onboard.

"Will! How are you feeling? Should you even be up?"

"I am feeling much better, Miss Swa–Elizabeth," he corrected at her warning gaze.

He moved to stand next to her and his young caretaker felt his forehead with the back of her hand. She nodded approvingly.

"You look better. Your fever is gone and you're not as pale. You should be right as rain when we reach Port Royal."

Like she had done before, Will leaned against the railing and stared out to the blue sea. The wind rippled through his long, dark brown hair, which he tied back with a strip of leather. When his hair wasn't wet or soaked with sweat from sickness, his hair was wavy, a memory of the wet, springy curls. Slowly, he breathed in the salty air.

"I hope my father is there." His hand hovered over his chest where his medallion had been. Guiltily, Elizabeth's mind drifted to her chest of belongings where she had hidden Will's medallion. She quickly dismissed it as if Will could read her mind and discover what she had done.

"I'm sure he's waiting there for you," Elizabeth assured him. "We'll arrive in Port Royal tomorrow. One more day at sea."

Will nodded. "One more day."

* * *

Clang!

The pair of swords sang as they sliced the air. The duelists circled each other. Each measured step was answered by a countermeasure. After an analytical pause, the fight began again.

Will countered every one of Elizabeth's strikes. Compared to a year ago, Elizabeth was growing into a more skilled and confident swordswoman. In the more experienced Will's eyes, however, he was able to pick out the subtle flaws that she herself was unaware of.

Although Will taught her how to fight, Elizabeth had her own style, her own rhythm, her own strength, her own motives for swinging that blade. Will learned so he could kill a pirate and channel his frustration at life into three hours of practice everyday. Elizabeth asked to learn so she could protect herself. Because she had been kidnapped by pirates, her father Governor Swann didn't oppose to the rather unladylike skill as he would have in the past.

Elizabeth often took the offensive, lashing out first to start the series. She used every opportunity to fight on her terms. She neglected to pace herself, pouring every bit of her strength into her strokes. Against a more inexperienced swordsman, Elizabeth could defeat him in a quick fight. However, Will Turner was not an inexperienced swordsman. He took in every detail and used the information to create a new strategy. He countered each of her attacks in a defensive maneuver, focusing on his footwork to make sure she didn't corner him. He waited for her to tire herself out, then took the advantage with quick, calculated blows. It frustrated Elizabeth and made her reckless. From there, the duel was rapidly finished.

Her rapier clattered against the dirty floor of the blacksmith shop. Will held his blade a safe distance away from her throat. She was backed against the wall, glaring defiantly into his eyes. Her chin tilted up in refusal to cower. Despite having lost, anyone could feel the strength thrumming through her.

The only noises in the blacksmith shop were their loud panting and the steady munching of the donkey. Elizabeth's porcelain face was stained with grime and her blonde hair stuck out in all directions from her ponytail. As they stood there, the fierceness in her eyes faded. Then Will kissed her.

One more day. One more day.

Will's lungs starved for oxygen, but he refused to stop. He didn't until he felt a prick at his gut. He drew away to find Elizabeth's sly smile and a sword pointing against his stomach. One of his taken from the rack nearby. Although he held the sword at her throat, she was the one to disarm him.

Will grinned. Elizabeth was a snake, a vixen. Surrounded by a sea full of pirates, her sneaky cleverness just might save her life.

Finally, Will stepped back and lowered his aching arm.

"I won," Elizabeth announced triumphantly, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Smirking, she exchanged the sword in her hand for the one on the floor specially made for her by Will.

"I had my sword to your throat first. According to the rules of combat, that marks the end of the duel. Thus, I won."

Elizabeth shook her head. "The rules can get you killed. Especially when you face off against a pirate. I would have thought you learned that from Jack."

"You didn't beat me, you ignored the rules of engagement. In a fair fight, I'd kill you."

  "Then that's not much incentive for me to fight fair, then, is it?"

A year ago, in the same setting, it was not Elizabeth Will was fighting. Across from him was Captain Jack Sparrow, more skilled than Elizabeth and was not there to train. Unlike Will, who obeyed the rules of engagement and relied purely on his hard-earned skill, Jack made use of the environment, blinding Will long enough to pull out his pistol.

As Will recalled, Barbossa didn't fight fair either. He broke the rules of engagement by pulling a gun on an outside party; by pointing a gun at Elizabeth. He would have shot her if Jack and Will had not collaboratively shot him first.

Will shook his head, bringing himself back to the present. "It's hard to believe it's been a year since all that."

"Do you think we'll ever see him again?"

"I don't know." Then Will smiled. "I would have invited him if he wasn't a wanted man."

Elizabeth shrugged. "Perhaps it's all for the best. I'm not looking for another adventure like that anytime soon." She reset into a fighting stance. "One more round?"

Will grinned and mimicked her stance. After a moment, Elizabeth struck first, just as he expected.

The young man ended the fight quickly. Elizabeth pulled a risky thrust, which Will sidestepped. He slammed his blade down close to the pommel. Again, Elizabeth's sword clattered to the ground.

His sidestep caused her to stumble. Thinking quickly, Will caught her waist and drew her to him, saving her from a fall. Despite the romantic gesture, Will did not forget they were in the middle of a duel and held his sword up high, sharp tip pointing at his opponent.

"I win," he whispered.

The startled expression soon vanished. Her fingers locked behind his neck and Will lowered his sword. This was not a disarm, the duel was over and there was no rack of swords close enough for Elizabeth to snag.

As she kissed him, Will could feel something hard against his neck. He remembered the painstaking forging of that ring. In the dim light of his fire long after hours, he had melted leftover gold shavings and poured them into a specifically made mold. It didn't have a diamond and he couldn't afford to make or buy another one for their wedding day, but it fit her finger perfectly, created by a man who loved her so deeply.

He had proposed to her with that ring. After asking for her father's permission, Will took Elizabeth to the beach. With only the sea as their witness, Will pressed one knee into the sand and asked Elizabeth, "Will you marry me?"

  One more day. One more day until Elizabeth is my wife.