Fathoms Below: Captain Jack Sparrow

Chapter 1: Sticks and Stones love.

"Good morning Uncle," I greeted the familiar man as he sat at his desk, fiercely concentrating on the papers laid out in front of him, his quill moving frantically as he signed page after page of what was no doubt important government documentation and legislation.
I had risen early that morning and had taken it upon myself to seek out my uncle, knowing he would be in his office, even at this early hour. Elizabeth was still yet to appear from her bedroom, no doubt still in the midst of sleep, which was nothing unusual for her.

I hung back in the open doorway to his home office as to not spook him as he focused on his work, speaking gently so he would notice my presence.
"Oh good morning Lillian," he replied cheerfully, looking up from his paperwork and observing my regular day dress.  "I'm afraid to say you look a tad underdressed for the ceremony today," he began to say until I smiled, walking over to him.
"I'm just taking my morning walk Uncle Weatherby, I'll be back in plenty of time to change for the ceremony."
He nodded, smiling gently as I kissed his cheek before leaving him alone once more, making my way towards the main foyer.

"Miss Swann, your shawl," said Anna, one of our housemaids, as she handed me the deep green shawl to cover my collar from the hot Caribbean sun.
"Thank you Anna," I said pleasantly, walking out of our manor home and proceeding on my walk towards the centre of town and hopefully down to the stone walls overlooking the bay, time permitting.

Despite my growing up in London, I had always longed for freedom, finding the airs and graces of the societal class I was born into to be much too stifling. I often went on these early morning walks, before the Caribbean sun became too hot and before the streets were crowded and bustling, to clear my head and to give me at least a semblance of freedom.

"Miss Swann!" I heard from behind me as I made my way over the small bridge, leading down from the manor towards town.
Turning, I saw that it was William Turner who had called my name and I smiled widely as he jogged over, carrying a large wooden box under his arm, his appearance more polished than I had ever seen. Will had been an acquaintance of Elizabeth's for many years and we had grown quite fond of each other since I moved here from London a few years after Elizabeth, following my father's death.

Of course Elizabeth had told me the story years ago of the boy found overboard on her crossing to Port Royal, floating in the middle of the sea on wooden shrapnel from a shipwreck. Over the years she had spoken numerous times of this 'Will' in our letters and by the time that I was able to meet him, I felt like I knew him already.

Will was humble and gracious, with a solid moral compass and determination; personality traits that very few men in Port Royal seemed to posses. Despite an obligatory sense of propriety he had culturally inherited, he held firm values and never seemed to take on the sexist, patriarchal values the other men held. He was entirely self made, apprenticing in his blacksmith trade from an early age and he had become incredibly proficient in not on his trade but in utilising his homemade weapons.

Due to this, Will and I often spent hours fencing, when I was able to get away from the house. Fencing was something I had developed a love for back in London and I had found a deserved fencing partner in Will. My mother had always strongly believed that I should be able to defend myself, despite my gender, and had privately arranged fencing lessons for me when I was a young girl, something my father would have undeniably disapproved of. 

Though she had died when I was young, her life lesson had stayed with me ever since. She never told me what exactly had prompted her to think this way, though it was easy to believe that it was something dark and haunting due to her passion in the matter.

"Good morning Miss Swann... Lillian," he greeted me, speaking my given name quietly. After looking around to check that no one nearby could hear him use since informalities, a blush crossing his cheeks when he spotted a couple walking nearby.