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Author: Guede Mazaka
Rating: PG
Pairing: Will/Norrington, Elizabeth/Will, Elizabeth/Anamaria, Jack/everyone.
Feedback: Good lines, bad ones, etc.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Hoo boy, not mine.
Notes: Happy birthday, the_dala! AU. Parodyfic. Not to be taken seriously at all.
Summary: Will and Elizabeth switch roles. Gratuitous snarky commentary.
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Once upon a time, there was a boy sailing from England. His mother had just died and his father had last been heard of in the Caribbean, so thenceforth he went.
Young!Will: Well. I’m a cute cabin-boy. And apparently I don’t pick up a single thing about sailing during my weeks-long journey, but that’s all right because I’m cute. Let’s not talk about the jailbait impression, okay?
But he was attacked by pirates!
Young!Will: Aie!
And was subsequently rescued by the British Navy.
Young!Elizabeth: Oh, cool! And daddy said out in the Caribbean I wasn’t going to have any proper boyfriends. I’ve got one already. And he comes with a cool punky necklace, too.
Young!Will: Hang on a moment. I’m really tired of doing the rescuing bit. What say we switch places—I keep the coin and you come after me.
Young!Elizabeth: *frowns* Now? You’re right here. I want something pretty, too. It’s in the code. The gallant young man always gives his lady a token of affection.
Young!Will: No, later. And, um, don’t you think tokens are moving kinda fast, seeing as we’re eleven-ish? They haven’t invented dysfunctional pre-teens yet how about I promise to teach you swordfighting. Swords are pretty.
Young!Elizabeth: *mulls this* Okay!
While the narrator stares in disbelief at her hijacked storyline, the two youngsters gleefully fast-forward to nine years later, so Will can be buff and manly in his uncomfortable dress-up clothes and Elizabeth can have amazing cleavage. Will’s got a sword for the commodore.
Will: No, Governor Swann’s got one for him. Wait. Neither of those sound very right…oh! Miss Swann! You’re…looking bluish in the face.
Elizabeth: Damn dress. I should’ve switched places with you for real. Bet daddy never would’ve noticed—you’re pretty girly-looking anyway, Will.
Will: Miss Swann!
Elizabeth: Stop calling me that.
Will: Won’t.
Elizabeth: Will. It’s your name, too.
Governor Swann: Ahem, children. Off you go, Turner. Elizabeth, I’m madly in lust with Commodore Norrington and need you as cover, so I’d like you to marry him even though you’re probably of higher social rank and I really should be shipping you home to head-hunt nobility there instead of in this backwater.
Elizabeth: Hmm? That’s very nice, daddy.
However, the proposal was interrupted by a pirate.
Elizabeth: Thank God! I’m not supposed to be doing any rescuing yet. And ooo, who does your eyes? I love that shade.
Norrington: Scoundrel! Stop swishing so my men can aim properly.
Will: Someone’s going to crack a sword-joke. I can just feel it.
Jack: Well, you do spend a bit of time polishing up on the—oof. Figures I’d be taken down by a fellow drunk.
The pirate ended up in jail, but that same night, Port Royal was invaded by another bunch of pirates. They hated his guts and happened to be looking for a coin. As it turned out, it came attached to a blacksmith.
Will: Ha-HA! Not quite. During my apparently copious spare time, I also learned a bit about counterfeiting and made a fake coin. That’s the one I’ve got, and Elizabeth’s got the real one.
Elizabeth: Oh! Because then I’ll have time to rescue you properly while the pirates try to figure out why whatever they need the coin for won’t work! Will, you’re the best enabler ever! Oh, and you two idiots--*yanks poker from fireplace and kicks Pintel-Ragetti butt*--take that for pre-Midol™ PMS!
Barbossa: Gonna babble at me about the code?
Will: Damn. I knew I forgot to have Elizabeth explain something to me—ow! Quit knocking me out!
The next morning, the intrepid heroine girded up her bosom and set out to get help for her dear friend in distress.
Norrington: He’s not even important to the city! I like Will as much as you do, but I cannot abandon my responsibilities here to go haring off on a wild goose chase.
Gillette and Groves: Well…yes…completely…completely…
Elizabeth: *shoves up corset another inch* But he’s my boyfriend!
Norrington: *dour look* Of course that’s going to make me even more enthusiastic.
Groves: *absently shoves eyeballs back in head*
Elizabeth: Well, I’m starting to think your enthusiasms must be rather peculiar, considering this damned corset’s not helping in the least.
After letting down her bosom to its natural state, the girl “borrowed” clothes and a sword from the blacksmith’s place, packed up her trusty pirate novels and went to negotiate with the pirate.
Elizabeth: I’m not wearing a corset under this.
Jack: *eels up to bars* And I greatly appreciate that, darling. *winks at the key she’s shoving in the lock* Appreciate that even more. So is it bed, wall, or—
Elizabeth: No, first we must have an adventure! Oh, and my boyfriend’s in great danger and I’ve got--*consults novel*--leverage to help save him, in the form of this creepy-looking coin.
Jack: Your…boyfriend wouldn’t happen to be related to a William Turner? And we’re pretending that that’s actually not a very common English name.
Elizabeth: Yes. Incidentally, he’s been known to be persuadable by a few dozen drinks, so if your tastes actually lie elsewhere, I’m sure I could arrange for a suitable award.
Jack: You’re scaring me, girl. Oh, well, better than hanging. Let’s go be mad and brilliant and steal the commodore’s boat.
Which they did. Being a properly-brought-up girl, no matter how unwilling, Elizabeth had spent long hours studying how to sail ships.
Elizabeth: No, no, you should tack now for maximum speed! It says so right here!
Jack: *draped over the wheel* Love, I’m having this strange feeling that I should be harassing an adorable puppy-boy right about now.
Will: Fuck puppy-boy. Concussions hurt and I don’t care if you’re all dead, I’ll just have fun taking you apart again and again and again…
Barbossa: Goddamn it, who let him near a sword? Take him—no, no! He’s killable, remember? Damn numbskulls—next time I’m cursed, I’ve got to remember to do it with a crew that’s got at least half a brain between them.
The pirate and the girl had to make a pit-stop in Tortuga. According to him, they needed a crew, but the girl suspected it was really to stock up on rum. Mostly because the pirate kept moaning and rubbing at his temples whenever she opened her mouth.
Gibbs: Jack!
Jack: Gibbs! Let’s get drunk and hopefully that girl will get snatched off by someone.
Elizabeth: Oooo, it’s just like I read about. Jack! Jack! Look, those two pirates are having a real brawl!
After carefully perusing the relevant sections on crews, mutinies, and rabble-rousing, Elizabeth got them a crew. Jack woke up with a sore cheek and a throbbing head.
Jack: You’re still here.
Elizabeth: Of course I am! Now meet your crew…hey, you. Off with the hat. I said we were checking for known incompetents.
Anamaria: There! And you owe me a boat, you bastard! *smacks Jack*
Elizabeth: Good arm. Hey, you’re…are you a woman pirate? *starry eyes*
Jack: Anamaria, I’ll get you the biggest boat in the Caribbee if you take her off my hands.
Anamaria: *thoughtful* I do like a woman who terrifies men.
They arrived at Isla de Muerte just in time to see the curse not be broken.
Jack: Okay. Let’s wait till they’re done, then go down and negotiate.
Elizabeth: But they’re about to cut Will’s throat!
Jack: Oh, they’re just being dramatic. It’s in the Code. Anyway, to get the best terms, you want them to sweat a little.
Elizabeth: I have to do everything myself. *clubs Jack*
Barbossa: Maybe we got the wrong one. Are you sure he’s Turner’s get?
Will: It is a pretty common name.
Barbossa: *slaps him*
Will: *rocks back a little* Excuse me. Blacksmith? Not exactly a wilting lily here.
Barbossa: *whacks a homerun into Will’s head with his sword-hilt*
Will: *falls*
The girl dragged off her boyfriend, but they were not yet out of danger. The pirates, along with their captured swishy pirate, gave chase and soon it looked as if a battle was approaching.
Elizabeth: Um. We should drop anchor and, um…*rapidly flips pages*
Anamaria: Girl, you need to get that thing memorized. Can’t fight while you’re reading.
Will: Wait, wait, who’s Jack and what did you say I’d do to thank him? Oh, and wheel about to hit them with a broadside first. On the double!
Elizabeth and Anamaria: *stare*
Will: What? Norrington gave me sword and strategy lessons, remember? That’s how I could teach you.
Elizabeth: Will, I think we may need to have a long talk about exploring relationship alternatives. Not that I don’t like you as my boyfriend, but—eek! Cannon! Shoot back! Shoot back! *quickly checks book* Rake ‘em like hell!
Unfortunately, they ran out of ammunition first and were taken prisoner by Barbossa. After a bit of threatening and posturing, the terms were settled.
Barbossa: The girl. She’s the bloody Turner whelp. She’s just as nagging as he was, always going on and on about the wrong we did Jack and about what we really should’ve done…oh, and toss the other two overboard before they can say anything. I’m sick of hearing people talk.
Will: Elizabeth! No! Damn it, now I’ve got to rescue you!
Elizabeth: So this is a brig. Ick. No wonder so many pirates have bad complexions. How do you keep yours so nice, Anamaria?
Anamaria: *blinking* First she’s swinging a sword, and then she’s talking about facials. I’m wondering if getting a boat’s worth it…
The blacksmith and the pirate ended up on an island with lots and lots of rum.
Will: So my father’s a pirate, I’m involved in some old curse, Elizabeth is about to get killed in my place and I’m stuck with you.
Jack: Have some rum, Will. Makes everything better…you know, you look like your father, a bit, but you’re a lot prettier.
Will: Gimme that. *chugs rum* Oh. Hey. Suddenly I want to dance around and collapse teasingly in your lap with my nice round ass in the air. Take that, bloody pirate.
Jack: *mournful* Just can’t get no satisfaction in this life.
Will: Also, my hangover will piss me off enough to burn the rum. So there.
Jack: You are a girl.
Will: Am not! Ask the commodore who’s coming to rescue us!
Indeed, the commodore did come, having been drawn by the mile-high smoke signal. He promptly threw the pirate in jail and then turned his attention to the missing girl.
Will: You’ve got to rescue her!
Norrington: Oh, I plan to. Headstrong little idiot though she is…*coughs and turns red* I mean, it is my duty to see Elizabeth and her father happily reunited. My duty. Elizabeth is a lovely, charming young woman, but I do wish she would try to be a little more aware of propriety.
Will: I know. She keeps trying to make me first-name her in front of her father. I told her I’ll call her that when he’s not there, but when he is, all that does is get me nasty looks. And is it in my best interests to offend the man who collects my taxes? No.
Norrington: And she could be a little more realistic.
Will: Oh, God, yes. Do you know what she promised Sparrow for helping to get me? What’s the point of rescuing me if she’s just going to pimp me out?
Norrington: If she could be half as understanding as you are—erhm. I need to go give orders.
Will: *stares* Hey, does this have anything to do with why you stopped giving me lessons once I got decent pecs and biceps?
Once they’d reached Isla de Muerte, the commodore reluctantly agreed to let the swishy pirate go in and negotiate while he and his men lay in wait for the pirates. But the commodore didn’t know that the pirates had a secret weapon up their sleeve: the curse.
Governor: Will, I’ve been thinking. Ever since Elizabeth ran away, I’ve been re-evaluating my life, and I’ve found that I may be…
Will: Gah. Get a confessor, since therapists haven’t been invented yet. Those jackasses won’t listen to my reasonable explanation, including the fact that there wasn’t one pirate body in Port Royal after the raid even though there were several reported killings, so I’ve got to go in there.
Elizabeth: I didn’t want to be the damsel in distress! This is so unfair. And I’m not a Turner, you morons.
Barbossa: We’ll see about that.
Will: No, you won’t.
Jack: Couldn’t you have just taken the big floppy hat? Fine, then. *swashswashbucklebuckle* Well, that’s…interesting. Skeleton, not skeleton.
Elizabeth: He stole my coin!
Will: Great, make it even more complicated. *shows off swordsmanship*
Elizabeth: *shows off harder*
Norrington: My ship’s being invaded! Back, back—oh, damn. Will was right. I’ll have to apologize now…well, at least it wasn’t Elizabeth. She’d be insufferable.
After a prolonged fight, the proper coin and drops of blood finally made it into the chest.
Barbossa: Big. Dramatic. Understatement.
Will: Huh. Would’ve thought he’d go more flashily, considering the hat.
Elizabeth: And considering pirates aren’t supposed to go like that! I’m starting to disbelieve my book.
Jack: I think I’ll just take a bottle of rum as payment. That and a quick trip away from you.
Anamaria: Sorry, Jack, but it’s been ages since I’ve had a real ship under my hands and I’ve just got to take her for a spin. We’ll be back for the uber-dramatic ending.
Jack ends up on the scaffold.
Jack: Ho-hum, this again. They’ve a slower priest every time.
Will: Elizabeth, I got a new hat. Also, I’m tired of waiting around here for Norrington to do anything besides look uncomfortable, and I’m beginning to think being your boyfriend’s gonna get me killed way too soon. It was kind of fun needling Jack, so I’m going to hijack him now. See ya.
Elizabeth: Oh, you—you—you’re leaving me out! *faints from anger*
Norrington: I am not letting some sexually-ambiguous pirate have you!
Jack: Could you perchance leave me out of your domestics? Not that I’m not flattered, really, but the pointy things in my face can get a bit tiring.
Elizabeth: Pointy things in my face, too. I refuse to be left out. Daddy, you want a commodore, you marry one yourself. I hear there’s some real swishers back at the Admiralty offices in London. Will, you’ve got my blessing as long as I get to watch. And Jack…um…do you know if Anamaria’s seeing any one right now?
Jack: And this is my cue to extricate myself from the soap opera and get back to my Pearl, who’s the only bloody one of you that actually makes sense. *snorts* People think I’m insane.
Will: Damn. There goes my ride.
Norrington: I—ah—have a ship. Several, actually. If you’d like a private tour, I could arrange something.
Elizabeth: Aw, they’re cute. Oh, Daddy, don’t look disappointed. Here, I’ll give you a make-over before I go off to snag a pirate girlfriend and I’ll make sure you blow all the boys at the Admiralty away.
And that was it. Until the sequel was spawned in a horrific collision of illegal drugs, a word processor, and an unusually intelligent macaw.
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