Summary: Jack's past comes back to haunt him in more ways than one. This is a response to a vampire challenge issued on the Pirates of the Caribbean Slash Yahoo!group. 2003. So this has absolutely nothing to do with the other films.
Warnings: Vampires and what's related to that. Vampire lore is of no specific kind, just what I came up with that was convenient to me.
AN: So! A rumor circulating around Tumblr that FFn is dying a painful death had me looking to archive my old shit, and… Figured I would finish the damn thing while I was at it. No original notes have survived, but the main ending I wanted is still intact. That image had always been solid (end of chapter 26 leading into chapter 27). However, I went a little more optimistic with it.
Edited out the edgy/cringe notes and other various written cringe. It's a nostalgic trip, but damn… Glad I evolved into a better person. (One comment had me going "Oh, honey… Oh, honey, no…" The joys of youth.) So, yeah. Some editing for taste and clarity as well.
Hope you enjoy.
Will Turner and Elizabeth Swann were to be married. That is, of course, considering that "were" is a past tense term. Elizabeth remained engaged, but the title of fiancé shifted from one Will Turner to one Commodore James Norrington. There is no real way to describe how or when it happened; it just did. No one seemed to object or think ill of any of the parties involved.
Will had noticed soon after his and Elizabeth's engagement that there was no passion between them. No fire. No sleepless nights spent thinking of the goddess he wanted. No, that was now the Commodore's problem. Will and Elizabeth were simply the best of friends now.
The change may have started with Will - having gotten his first real taste of adventure and the sudden end of it all leaving him with an unquenchable thirst for more. Quite admittedly, meeting Jack Sparrow was possibly the best, and soon to be worst, thing that had ever happened to the young blacksmith. Will missed the pirate and his eternally intoxicated self - even though he'd never publicly admit to it. There was something intriguing and mesmerizing about the man that left Will wanting more. Possibly of something he shouldn't be wanting.
After Jack had escaped, or rather fallen, to freedom, everything had calmed down. It was almost unbearably calm. But this day was to be different.
Will knocked on the door of the Swanns' home. He didn't have to wait long before a servant answered and showed him in.
"This way, Mr. Turner," said the servant, gesturing in a boorish manner in the general direction of the parlor. "You're to wait here for Miss Swann." And with that, he left.
Will was used to being left to his own devices in the governor's house. As long as he didn't touch anything, he'd be safe. So he stuck to his favorite pastime of looking around. As his gaze raked the room for some sort of intrigue, a portrait caught his eye. He cocked his head to the side. Surely this painting wasn't there before - he would have remembered it.
It wasn't anything particularly glamorous, but it had a peculiar air about it. He couldn't help but be reminded of someone.
Will strode up to the portrait for a closer look. It was of a beautiful young woman. The painting itself was old, quite possibly over a hundred years, though the frame was new. Yet, somehow, it matched perfectly. It might have been the fact that the carvings decorating the wood used for the frame matched the woodwork of the chair the woman sat in, or that the silver laced into the carved braiding of the frame gave it a touch of individuality that seemed to emanate from the woman. Will's thoughts were brought back to the woman herself.
The mysterious subject of the portrait. Who was she? Why did she smile like she knew all of Will's secret desires? There was something very familiar about that smile and the lips that showed it. Such kissable lips painted crimson, but the natural beauty showing through. Her lips contrasted perfectly with her pale skin. It looked as though she'd never seen sunlight.
Will's eyes followed her lips to her left earring. It appeared to be silver, shining in the light of the room she posed in. Will could have sworn he'd seen that bit of jewelry before - though he couldn't place his finger as to where. Giving it up as a lost cause, he next admired her hair. It was a raven black, and most likely smooth as silk by the looks of it. The top part of her hair was pulled up into a complicated pile of curls, decorated with pearls and the wings of what appeared to be a dove.
Tracing down, his eyes met with hers. They were a tempting chocolate that dared one to drown in them. He remembered seeing eyes like these before. He recognized the lust they held. The knowledge, the playfulness. But for the life of him, he couldn't put a name to this face that he knew so well. All he could think of was how he wanted to be with this woman. Let her know all his secrets. Even though he was certain that she'd use that against him and take advantage of him, he didn't care. As long as he could be in her presence. He wanted to serve her. To be her slave. To— Will was jarred from his thoughts as a hand came to rest on his shoulder. He spun around to see Elizabeth looking at him with a worried expression.
"Elizabeth…' He trailed off as his words failed him.
"I see you've met the Countess," said Elizabeth, warily eying the portrait.
Will nodded. "It's a beautiful work of art. I've never seen anything like it."
Elizabeth frowned. "I don't like it. There's something…not right about it. Something unnatural." She seemed to be fighting for her thoughts to come out right, as if some force was trying to keep her from shedding light on a deep, dark secret.
"She looks familiar. Who is she?" Will asked, looking back to the painting of the Countess. Elizabeth was right. Something definitely wasn't right about it.
"She is Countess Mircalla Karnstein," she replied flatly. "My second cousin found it while cleaning out his wine cellar. Thought it would make for a good, if not cheap, wedding present."
Will continued to stare at the Countess. Why did she look so familiar? The name wasn't familiar, so why did he think he'd seen her before?
"Speaking of wedding presents," Elizabeth began, breaking Will from his thoughts once more. "You're here to help me decide on a date for the wedding and who should receive invitations. And where to seat them." She gave him an apologetic grimace.
Will groaned inwardly. He was hoping to have a simple chat with his friend or maybe be given a request for a sword to make for the Commodore as a wedding present. Elizabeth must have sensed this, for she put on an impish smile and linked her arm through his.
"Oh, come now! It's not as bad as you're making it out to be."
"I feel you're lying. You've had some rather good teachers for that recently."
She smiled whole heartedly and dragged Will out of the parlor. Just as they reached the door, Will took one last look at the portrait of Countess Karnstein. Not really being able to focus on it due to the movement of being dragged along, he recognized the distinct features of the woman. "Jack…"