Nine Years Later

"You're the place my life began

And you'll be where it ends."

– S. Mac

Will and Elizabeth could still clearly remember the day they stood on their beach, watching their two oldest children play in the sand, and she'd come to him, telling him a third was on the way. It was difficult to imagine then how their life could possibly be any better, any more perfect, than it already was. But time would show them how, for just shy of six months later, they welcomed another son, Jonathan Turner.

And as time evolved so did the Turner's family, swiftly expanding in size. Another two years after Jonathan's birth, their fourth and fifth children were born, twin girls, Charlotte and Hannah. They had wished for another baby and, with the lovely justification of creating one, were making love at every time and place possible until they were certain Elizabeth was with child. Will and Elizabeth always insisted there were two babies that time because they had tried twice as hard.

A mere thirteen months later, their sixth child came along, a third son. Will and Elizabeth's plan to hold off on more children for a bit went awry when, on her birthday, they indulged in too much wine, decided to play pirates and, in the heat of the game, all thoughts of abstinence – or at the very least being careful – on her fertile days flew out the window, resulting in little baby Nicholas.

A little over two years later brought their seventh child, Emily, a surprisingly fair-haired little girl with eyes like her mother's.

And before they knew it, two more years had passed, marking ten since Will had been granted his freedom and returned home to Elizabeth and William. When Bootstrap arrived on the island on the tail of a green flash, Will and Elizabeth and their seven children were already there to meet him, allowing the Flying Dutchman's captain the chance to play with his as yet unseen grandchildren his one day ashore – and consequently irrefutably cementing in the young Turners' minds the certain truth of the stories they had heard all of their lives.

Another seven months after that, Will and Elizabeth were given an unexpected blessing in the form of their eighth and final child, Catherine, fulfilling the prediction they had made long ago. It seemed, as Will and Elizabeth in fact could not keep their hands off of one another, they truly were destined to have a very large brood of little Turners running about the house.

Now on this day, nine years after the similar afternoon when Elizabeth announced their third child's existence, Will looked about at his smiling, laughing gaggle of offspring gathered upon the beach and his heart swelled with nearly overwhelming love and happiness. His mind perhaps inevitably recalled the time those many years ago when Elizabeth, with William in tow, had come to find him on the Flying Dutchman. On their last night together before being parted for several more long years, Elizabeth, despite herself, had begun to cry. Tears of his own formed in his eyes as he did his best to soothe her, promising that when it was all over it would be well worth it. Think of how happy we'll be, he had told her, walking along the beach hand in hand as we used to long ago – only, this time, we will be accompanied by a throng of giggling children.

It had all come to fruition, just as he had said, for there they were, Will and Elizabeth and their eight children, twenty-one year old William; eleven year old Lizzie; six year old Charlotte and Hannah; five year old Nicholas; three year old Emily; and one month old baby Kate.

Will's emotional reverie was broken, however, when his oldest walked up to stand beside him.

Placing his hand upon his shoulder, Will asked him, "How were things at the smithy?"

Since Kate was born, Will had taken several days off here and there to spend time with his newborn daughter – and, now that their period of abstinence had passed, to revel in time spent with his wife while their small babe napped. Will's question was a mere formality really, as he knew quite well he was leaving the business in good hands.

William had grown to be a fine blacksmith, excelling at the making of swords and showing a great talent at using them as well. Though perhaps he didn't quite reach his father's level of expertise, it did not hurt the young man's feelings in the least, as very few ever could or ever would match Will at the shaping or implementing of swords. In one area of his life, however, he hoped to fully reach his father's level of success: in finding a love as perfectly suited and having a marriage as blissfully happy as his parents. And that he believed he would soon achieve, as he had recently become betrothed to a beautiful young woman in the village – the very same girl he had fallen for at the tender age of twelve.

"Everything is well, Father. Business is quite excellent. We received orders today for several axes, as well as nails and hinges." Remembering suddenly, William's face lit up. "And a rather costly order for a quite precise and intricate sword. The client has very exact specifications, but I believe I can live up to them – although I have yet to attempt gold filigree."

Will laughed heartily. "Gold filigree, hmm? There's nothing to it at all, son. I'll begin showing you in the morning."

"Then the order is mine?" William asked excitedly.

"I wouldn't have it any other way."

"Thank you, Father," he grinned.

"William," Lizzie called, running up to her older brother. "I saw Captain Fredricks down at the docks this morning. He promises to take me out with him next time," she bragged, reluctantly adding, "….that is, if Mama and Papa agree."

Captain Fredricks was employed by her parents to sail the Lizzie, her namesake, to its various ports around the Caribbean – when Will or Elizabeth weren't taking over at the helm, bringing the family along on one trip or another. And, earlier in the summer, the captain had seen to a shipment of swords and various weapons to the fort at Port Royal. It had been over two decades since their notoriety there and few remembered – fewer still cared – who they had once been and the fact that they once were fugitives. Happily, the Turners had been able to reestablish ties there and reclaim the amazingly well-preserved home that Will had built for Elizabeth once upon a time. It had become a very lovely vacation house for them whenever they wished to get away or the younger children wished to sail. Though they had sold his original smithy, the reputation of the fine work turned out by Will and his son made his products highly sought after there, as well as throughout the entire Caribbean. However, when it came time to deliver the shipment to Port Royal, as well as several other smaller orders to neighboring islands, Elizabeth had been heavy with child and Will, who would ordinarily personally see to orders of such import, did not want to leave her. It was determined that William would go with Captain Fredricks in Will's stead, and so he did, spending several long weeks at sea.

This knowledge left his eleven year old sister burnt up with jealous, as she had a very eager interest in sailing, adventure novels, and all things remotely relating to pirates; in short, she was a carbon copy of her mother. Still, she adored William and did not let her measure of envy get the better of her, holding him in a certain degree of awe for the adventures he been able to live. She hoped against hope for her own one day. Certainly, she got to sail with the family – and even with Captain Jack once around the harbor – but her parents thought her still too young for any extended trips with the fleet of the Turner Shipping company and certainly not with any of their pirate acquaintances…..someday though…..

"Aww, Lizzie," William teased, "you know quite well that Mother and Father will never let you go alone until you're much older." His mouth formed a devilish grin as he adjoined, "And perhaps not even then, seeing as how you're a girl."

Just as he knew it would, his sister's face colored with fury. "Come over here, William Turner, and say that to me," Lizzie ordered. Looking about the beach, she laughingly declared, "Where's my sword? I'll teach you a lesson, William!" Unable to locate the wooden weapon, she took after her older brother nonetheless who, encumbered by his hysterics, the remarkably fast young girl would no doubt soon catch.

Shaking his head with affection, Will turned his eyes to his two youngest sons, playing near the shoreline with Jack, their puppy, a descendant of Estrella, the dog that William had originally won as a prize for having found the key to the Fountain of Youth aboard his father's then ship.

Jonathan, the eldest of the two, was the most serious of all the Turner children. Though all of his brothers and sisters proved to be clever and intelligent, he was more studious than any of his other siblings, with an inclination towards books and education and an already enthusiastic interest in learning the ways of business and the keeping of the Turner Company books.

The same could not be said for Nicholas, though he had a unique personality as well. While the boy was yet five years old, his love for animals was firmly cemented. He adored riding the family's horses and feeding and petting the mules at the smithy. Moreover, like his oldest brother before him, Nicholas showed an interest in pirates, just not as keen as William's had been – though Lizzie more than made up for the difference.

Will's attention was captured from Jonathan and Nicholas by the voice of one of his twin daughters, as both had come scampering up to their mother.

"Mama, do you mind if we start the tea party without you?" Charlotte sweetly asked Elizabeth, who sat upon the sand adjacent to where Will stood.

"Just while you're feeding the baby," Hannah added, hoping their mother would not take offense.

Will chuckled softly to himself. Charlotte and Hannah were the polar opposite of Lizzie. They were girlie girls down to their very cores, loving dolls, tea parties, and playing dress up, although they did enjoy sailing as well – as long as it was on one of the Turner ships. They felt the crew of the Black Pearl, as quoted directly from its captain, "smelled funny", whether from rum or body odor their father wasn't certain, but the twins crinkled up their noses in the most adorable display of distaste he had ever seen the few times they had been upon the ship.

"Yes, darlings," Elizabeth replied, smiling. "It's all right. Just let Emily play too," she requested, indicating her second youngest daughter who was currently sitting down beside her mother, wishing to help take care of the baby but, upon hearing her name, sprang rapidly to her feet.

"We will, Mama," Charlotte, the oldest of the twins by two minutes, promised.

"Emily," Hannah asked her younger sister as they traipsed off to picnic just down the beach where they'd already set out their blanket, tea set, pastries, and pot of heavily watered-down tea, "would you like sugar in your tea?"

"Yes," the toddler answered, her eyes glowing as bright as the sun when she saw the goodies laid out on the blanket. "And a biscuit."

The twins giggled at their sister's words. Emily, though long and lean and not the least bit chubby, from an early age had loved sweets. In all respects, she was rather in-between the height of femininity of Charlotte and Hannah and the tomboyish ways of Lizzie. Emily enjoyed playing the sorts of traditionally feminine games Charlotte and Hannah delighted in, but she was also frequently known to commandeer one of Nicholas's pirate toys to carry off one of her dolls to his pirate ship for an adventure – so perhaps she was another budding Elizabeth after all.

As the three girls settled down on the blanket, Charlotte called back to Will, "Papa!"

"Papa," Hannah chimed in, "will you take tea with us?"

Will smiled. "Yes, my angels. Pour me a glass and I'll be right there."

Left alone with his wife, Will lowered himself upon the sand to sit next to her. She looked up from their youngest child, who was enjoying her supper, and smiled that radiant smile for him that still had the power to make his knees go weak. Though they were now both forty-three years old neither, as Carmen pointed out each morning when she arrived to give the Turner brood their lessons, would be thought a day over thirty – whether a product of naturally aging well or a result of their brush with Will's immortality neither could be certain, although they were inclined to believe it was the latter. Either way, save for an unspeakably attractive sense of feminine maturity, Elizabeth looked not a bit older to Will's discerning eyes than she had the day they became betrothed those many years ago. Elizabeth, for her part, often said the same of Will, marveling at how he remained as fit and deliciously sculpted as any strapping younger man.

Will pulled his gaze from Elizabeth to regard their nursing babe, running his forefinger across her soft little cheek. As with all of his other children, save the first, he had been there to see her born. And, though her birth was the seventh time he had witnessed such an event, the miracle of it never ceased to amaze him. Now here she was, his youngest child, tiny and beautiful and….perfect. At only a month old it was, of course, too soon to know just exactly who and what little Catherine Turner would be, but in appearance there was no denying she was the spitting image of her father in female form.

"Ow! Oh, Kate." Elizabeth's sudden yelp drew Will's attention from their suckling baby up to her mildly pained eyes. "Your youngest daughter is a particularly hearty eater. She's leaving her poor mother sore," she explained, pausing to fix her blouse as she lifted the child away from her breast to rest against her shoulder, where she began softly patting the babe's back.

Will smiled, a light of sensual mischief aglow in his dark eyes. "I'll be sure to massage the area for you later, my love."

Elizabeth's lips curled up at his suggestive comment, the hunger between them no more abated now than it had been when they first wed. Kate having rewarded her mother with a hearty burp, her head already lulling in slumber, Elizabeth set the babe back to lie in her traveling basket. Turning to regard Will, she searingly replied, "And, while you're at it, I've another spot or two that beg your attention."

Will rose to his feet, pulling his wife along with him and pressing her body to his. "I think pirates are in order tonight."

Elizabeth beamed up at him. "I love you," she answered, pulling his lips down to hers for a scorching kiss.

Drawing back, they softly rested their foreheads together, taking a moment to breathe each other in before turning back to watch their children, spread out playing across their spacious beach.

Elizabeth remained tucked against Will's side, her head resting in the crook of his neck with his arms wrapped low about her waist. She sighed as a peal of their young daughters' laughter carried across to them on the wind.

Will kissed her forehead in response, resting his chin in her soft, fragrant hair. "What a life we have made together."

Late that night, the two lie in bed, Elizabeth resting snugly against Will's broad chest as he tenderly stroked her bare back, his caressing fingers following the curve of her spine. All these years later, he would never tire of the exquisite feeling of her lying nude in his arms.

"I love you, Will," she murmured, brushing her lips across his faded scar.

"And I love you, Elizabeth," was his whispered reply. "Forever and always."

She sat up slightly upon her elbow, looking down into her husband's face in the flickering candlelight. "I believe I would like that massage now," she enticingly requested, seductively holding his gaze.

Slowly smiling, Will asked, "Isn't that what we have been doing?"

"No, darling," Elizabeth answered provocatively, shaking her bed-mussed locks.

In one fluid movement, Will flipped them over so she lie pressed beneath him. "No?"

"No….that's not exactly what I'd call what we've been doing."

"Very well," he smiled, placing his hands to her hips. Splaying his fingers out across her supple skin, he slowly caressed his way up her abdomen, pausing a moment to toy with her bellybutton before continuing up her ribcage as she arched her body into his expert touch.

His lips lowered to her neck, kissing along the column of her throat to Elizabeth's soft, delighted moan, when he suddenly withdrew from her. "Wait," Will said, stretching across their night table and, with a grin, retrieving his bandana from where it had been tossed in the heat of passion earlier in the evening. Securing it atop his curls, he roguishly asked, "Shall I plunder you now?"

Elizabeth looked into his eyes. "No, Captain Turner….Will," she breathed, reaching up to gently remove the bandana, letting his wayward chocolate locks fall back around them. "I want you to make love to me."

Will smiled, transforming his touch from voracious and enticing to soft and tender, the sensation no less erotic. "Gladly….my Elizabeth," he whispered lovingly against her lips.

And, as he kissed her, the pair reveling in that same electric thrill as the first time his lips had touched hers, they did just that.

AN: The paragraph about Will and Elizabeth's prediction of having a very large family (along with the given reason why) is a reference to my oneshot Midnight Rendezvous. And Will's flashback to the promise he made Elizabeth aboard the Flying Dutchman is, of course, a reference to this story's predecessor, The Key To Immortality.

Thank you all for reading and I hoped you enjoyed the story. I certainly had fun writing it. Now that it is finished, it's somewhat bittersweet, like sending my baby out into the world! ; )

Anyway, I expect to start my new full-length story in the next couple of weeks and will also pepper in some oneshots here and there (at least two post CotBP, Pre DMC oneshots, and I'll be doing a post AWE Christmas oneshot that coincides with the Healing Touch).

Thanks for reading!