Disclaimer: I don't own them. It's a shocker, I know.

A/N- Well, this was SUPPOSED to be a drabble. But, well... it's WELL over the 500 word max or whatever the limit was. It's more in the one thousand word range. And then I thought it would be cool if this was a two part drabble, Will's point of view, and then Elizabeth's. So it sort of expanded into a two thousand word story... oh well, I liked the idea. The word was Christmas. Oh, and I realize that a blacksmith would never make jewelry besides possibly rings, much less lockets... but this is fanfiction, and if you are really expect the story to be that accurate... well, then you are in the wrong place.

Christmas

William Turner hated Christmas.

Even before his mother died it had been an awkward and uncomfortable experience for the young boy. His mother would smile thinly at her son as he woke up, handing him his breakfast -- eggs, fresh bread and beans -- much larger portions and more extravagant food then normally eaten. They would then go to Mass at the church, standing in back with all the other peasants and those who couldn't afford a pew. Upon returning home, each exchanged their gift, thanking one another as if it was all they wanted. Then they would sing carols together, Will taking the harmony and his mother the melody. After these usual traditions had been performed, the two would spend the day together. Will would help his mother in the garden, and she would take him down the sea to play in the waves. At night, they would share a cup of eggnog and then bid each other goodnight. Both had work to do early the next morning. It wasn't uncomfortable because they were poor, living only on his pittance of a blacksmith apprentice's wage and hers of a maid. It was more because the whole production seemed empty, they were going through the motions of the holiday for the benefit of the other. The most hallowed of days was hollow for Will and his mother and only served as further reminder of Will's father's abandonment and the hole it had ripped in their family. Both Will and his mother would have happily not gone through the tired routine of Christmas, but were under the impression that the other enjoyed it. So it continued for years.

But now she was dead, and Will only had Mr. Brown and his job at the shop. Christmas became just like every other day for him. While most of Port Royal stopped to celebrate and indulge, Will worked. Although many looked at him sympathetically when he took a break for Mass, his hands sooty and face smudged, he preferred spending Christmas in his own lonely way.

This year promised to be no different. Governor Swann had asked him to make a last minute gift. It was for his daughter Elizabeth -- a locket, a simple enough of a job. Still, he labored over it for hours throughout the night, his own private Christmas vigil. This wasn't just a locket, it was for Elizabeth. And for Elizabeth, he was willing to dedicate the extra attention and hours the project needed. Instead of making the simple, heavy necklace as he usually did when someone requested a locket, hers was more delicate and feminine. He carefully etched an intricate E on the face of the small golden heart. The chain he used was small and dainty, so the attention would be focused on the pendant.

As the sun was beginning to peek into the small valley Port Royal was tucked in, dissipating the dew that fell with Will's sweat in the night, Will was tying a bow on the slender box he had placed the necklace in. His hands were too rough and clumsy to tie the bow attractively, but it would have to do.

Mr. Brown entered into the workroom from his sleeping quarters. His eyes were glazed and he was sweating profusely from the spirits the night before. Splashing water over his dirty and drunken face, Mr. Brown finally became aware of his apprentice.

"I was finishing the order from Governor Swann," Will explained. Choking over his tongue he added: "I was thinking I could run it up to his mansion now."

In a rare moment of interest (and almost-sobriety) Mr. Brown chuckled, "You would want to run it up to the mansion. Anything to get a glance at that Elizabeth."

Will averted his boss's eyes, suddenly finding his shoes to be more interesting as his cheeks burned from Mr. Brown's light teasing. He cleared his throat, picking his words carefully, "Well, I'm off to do that then. I should be back in the half hour."

He quickly ducked out into the deserted streets, cheeks blazing as he heard Brown give another shout of laughter. Reverently handling the small box, he headed up the hill to the Governor's estate.

He was led into the foyer by a manservant when he finally reached the sprawling house. There was a flurry of excitement as the last minute preparations for Christmas morning were being placed.

"Mr. Turner!" Governor Swann said from behind, catching Will by surprise.

Will turned to the aged man, bowed from the neck and handed him the box.

"Oh, I can't thank you enough for this, Mr. Turner. I only just remembered that Elizabeth was quite fond of her mother's locket as a child. No one quite knows where it ended up after her death, but I thought Elizabeth would still appreciate this gift."

"I was glad to make it. It was no trouble at all," he replied automatically. He hadn't really listened to the man's reminiscences, he was too distracted as he scanned all of the faces that were passing by, hoping to see hers.

"Yes. Well, thank you," the Governor said making it clear that Will should leave. He turned on his heel to place the gift under a tree bursting with presents, no doubt.

Will also turned to leave. Just before he reached the door, disappointed that he hadn't been able to see Elizabeth, he heard her sweet, clear voice.

"Will!"

Turning under the doorframe, he saw her rushing towards him, a large smile brightening her features. He smiled broadly in return.

"Miss Swann," he said bowing to her, his face losing his smile as he remembered that his place as peasant supplanted their friendship.

Her smile faded when she saw his formality and she stopped short of him. Will wished that he could erase the precedence and greet her warmly, just to see her smile again.

"Why are you here, Will?" she asked him, not to be rude, but out of curiosity. The question would have been seen as improper, but Will just loved her all the more for it. Obviously Elizabeth didn't have as hard of a time throwing aside protocol.

"Just delivering something for your father," he explained.

She nodded, and they stood beneath the arching doorway in silence.

"Well, Merry Christmas, Miss Swann," Will said, nodding to her again. He could have very well stayed with her beneath the door all day, but he couldn't detain her.

"Merry Christmas, Will," she replied, and catching him by surprise, she leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss on his lips.

He looked at her in confusion, and she pointed up at the doorframe. Mistletoe.

As Will walked back down the smithy, he couldn't keep from smiling.

Maybe Christmas wasn't all that bad, he decided.