𝟦. 𝑐𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑜𝑓 𝑡𝘩𝑒 𝑠𝑒𝑎

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𝐂 𝐇 𝐀 𝐏 𝐓 𝐄 𝐑 𝐅 𝐎 𝐔 𝐑

[ 𝑝𝑜𝑟𝑡 𝑡𝑜𝑟𝑡𝑢𝑔𝑎 ]






𝐿𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐼𝐴𝑁 𝑆𝑃𝐸𝑁𝑇 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑅𝐸𝑀𝐴𝐼𝑁𝐷𝐸𝑅 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝑈𝑁𝐴𝐵𝐿𝐸 𝑇𝑂 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐾 𝑂𝐹 𝐴𝑁𝑌𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑁𝐺 𝐵𝑈𝑇 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝑈𝑁𝐿𝐼𝐾𝐸𝐿𝑌 𝑃𝐴𝐼𝑅'𝑆 𝑅𝐸𝑄𝑈𝐸𝑆𝑇.

Even as she turned the last of the patrons out onto the cobbles, swinging at the air in front of their noses and stumbling with every step, Will's last words echoed back in her mind. Come with us, Lillian. Perhaps if she hadn't turned to look at him as he spoke - if she hadn't caught the almost imperceptible glimmer of longing in his eyes, for the freedom of the years they'd shared in Port Royal – then she would've been happy to continue ignoring Jack's outrageous offer. But coming from Will's lips, Lillian couldn't deny that it sounded much more intriguing.


As she stacked up the chairs around the tavern and splashed down the grime-coated floorboards with buckets of water which soaked the hems of her skirts through, she began to ponder for the first time in her life, the possibility of actually breaking her mother's one and only rule.

For such a highly strung and ferocious woman Aoife Lysander had, for the most part, allowed Lillian to make, and in turn learn from, her own mistakes throughout her childhood – though there had of course been that isolated incident during which Lillian had found herself on the roof of a rum storehouse whilst it went up in flames. Aoife hadn't taken too kindly to that one, especially after people in town began to accuse her of trying to destroy an opposing business via foul play. But nobody had ever managed to prove that Lillian had actually had anything to do with the fire itself, and plus it had been Will's fault anyway – she'd just taken the fall. Come to think of it, there had been many a time when she'd offered herself up for punishment to save him.

She really would've done anything for William Turner back in those days. And it unnerved her to realise that here she was, seriously considering doing it all over again, even though the mission was practically suicide.

Even though it was incredibly likely he had fallen for Elizabeth Swann during her absence.


A heavy sigh escaped her lips and she shook her head to rid herself of the thought – now was not the time to be worrying about the Governor's daughter. No, it was the time to be worrying about whether or not Aoife would lock her in the rum cellar until her thirtieth birthday if Lillian decided to finally defy her mother and board a ship.

She'd always been fascinated by the beautiful vessels which docked in the various ports she'd inhabited over the years, even before her mother had finally let her in on the story of her late father - a merchant sailor from Aberdeen, who'd sailed his crew to the lights of Galway for a spot of fun before setting off for the New World. Apparently Aoife had been so taken with the young Quartermaster that she'd followed him all the way across the seven seas to the Caribbean, and they'd settled themselves in a nearby port to raise their newborn daughter. They would've been a perfect family, if only the sailor hadn't failed to return from his next voyage, his ship drawn and quartered by a fierce storm - her father had drowned at sea when Lillian was barely six months old.

It seemed Aoife was determined her daughter would not meet the same fate – and so Lillian had been confined to port her entire life. The shallow waters which surrounded the docks were as far as she was allowed, and if she so much as hinted at leaving the bay by any means which did not involve a horse and dry land, Aoife would take no pity in shutting her down on the spot.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐌𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑  ▸ W. TURNERWhere stories live. Discover now