Rating: G
Warnings: None
Main characters: Lieutenant Norrington, Governor Swann, Elizabeth
Pairings: None
Notes: This story takes place a few weeks after the first scene of the movie. Fluff, pure and simple. This story has not been beta'ed yet, so please R&R. I'd like to get some opinions for editing before I call it good and send it out.
"Hmm?" He looked up, spoon poised halfway to his mouth.
Governor Swann raised a greying eyebrow. "The soup, Lieutenant. Don't you agree that it's quite lovely?"
James Norrington eyed the soup that was rapidly cooling in his spoon. "Yes, quite." He hadn't actually tasted it yet, hadn't the governor noticed? Swann continued to watch him with a great deal more interest than he normally showed in anything until the soup had finally completed its journey to his mouth.
"There, you see?" The governor smiled. The candlelight from the chandelier overhead softened the worry lines that had developed around his eyes and mouth, taking years off his age.
"Indeed." It actually was lovely soup, rich and creamy. He'd been out at sea for weeks in pursuit of the pirates that had been hunting the merchant vessels, and he certainly hadn't had any food even approaching edible during that time. Before that had been the crossing from England, and the situation had been nearly as grim. So really, he hadn't had anything to eat nearly this good since his last day at home.
James set his spoon down, a great deal more abruptly than he had intended. Several drops of soup now decorated the snowy white tablecloth.
"Lieutenant! Is something the matter?"
As if of their own accord, his hands began to fidget with his napkin, folding and refolding it. With an effort of will, he stilled them, frowning. Mother would have been appalled, ha she been alive to see him now. Her own son, squirming like a boy in a dining room more fine than theirs ever could have been, with its dark, exotic wood furniture and delicate parquet floor. "I must apologize, Governor. After being at sea for so long, and then receiving your invitation...I fear that I am out of sorts and not at all fit for company."
"Nonsense, no need to apologize." The older man smiled rather like a thin version of Father Christmas. "It's my fault entirely for not realizing how tired you would be upon your return. I admit, I was so eager to hear of your... adventures, if that's the proper word for it, that I quite forgot the common courtesy of allowing you a few quiet moments.
James bowed his head. "Really, Governor, there's no need for you to apologize..."
"Then if there is no need for me to apologize, and likewise no need for you to either, what on earth are we wasting our breath over?" He exclaimed, chuckling. James joined in, if somewhat reluctantly. "Now that the confusion has been taken care of," he continued, "you must tell me of your progress in the pursuit of the pirates."
James rather welcomed the chance to think of something else, even if it led to an entirely different set of unpleasant memories. He set his spoon down properly before speaking; the butler appeared to collect his nearly full bowl of soup, silent as a ghost. "I'm afraid there is very little to report in terms of progress. We went specifically to pursue the ship that had destroyed the merchant vessel - the one your daughter described to us. By the way, how is the boy?"
"Young Mr. Tuner? We were a bit worried over him for a while, but he's made a full recover, none the worse for wear. The attack frightened him badly enough that he remembers nothing of it, which I think is probably for the best. Mr. Brown, the blacksmith, has agreed to take him on as an apprentice."
"Excellent, a worthwhile trade for him to learn. Some good comes from all misfortune, I suppose."
Governor Swann waved to the butler, who ghosted by bearing plates of sautéed fish. It smelled quite nice. "But do continue..."
With a purely internal sigh, he continued. "We followed the most common inter-island routes, and continued on for a week and a half. That is when we were attacked."
"Is this when Captain Morris was lost?"
James nodded, trying to swallow around the lump that suddenly sprang up in his throat. He wouldn't be doing anyone honor if he lost control of his emotions. "A ship with black sails came at us from a bank of fog, laying in with its cannons. We were not caught completely unawares, but by no means were we ready for such an attack." He was actually rather proud that his voice stayed even and steady. It had been a long time since a battle had truly frightened him, and never before had anything been burned so indelibly in his memory. But the ghost ship, dropping from the inexplicable bank of fog, its tattered sails like a shroud and the skull and crossed swords laughing over it...
"Lieutenant?"
"I'm sorry." He hid his shudder with a cough. "To continue, we were caught at a disadvantage. We swung to stern as quickly as we could and returned fire as soon as the guns came to bear. I think that they were not expecting the maneuverability of our ship; they were not prepared for a return attack. They never came close enough to board; I believe at that time, they realized they had bitten off more than they could chew, and retreated."
"Extraordinary."
The ship hadn't so much retreated as evaporated into the fog from which it had come. No doubt his men were enthusiastically telling that portion of the story; he felt no need to relate something so fantastical. "Their parting shots snapped the main mast in half; it fell to the deck where Captain Morris stood. I tried to reach him before is struck. I was too slow." He realized that in his distraction, he'd begun to trace the half-healed gash on his forehead with his fingers. Stop that.
Governor Swann took a long, thoughtful sip of wine. "I trust that you don't blame yourself?"
"Perhaps at first," James admitted, "but I had the ship to look after; repairs kept me too busy to dwell on such thoughts. And now that I have tasted command, however briefly, I believe I understand."
"Good. I should hate to think I would need to beat you about the head and shoulders. At my age, it would be very tiring." He smiled.
It was a rather amusing image. "I am merely glad you do not find fault with us, Governor, for a less than impressive performance."
"I have listened to the tales of these pirates while you were at sea, Lieutenant. I have no doubt that the might of our navy shall prevail, but I also think it will be no easy task."
At least part of what had been gnawing at him dried up and blew away. He'd been worried on the behalf of his already bruised, battered, and demoralized men. "We shall attempt to be equal to the task." He said. "It will take a few weeks to fully repair the damage that was done to the Endurance. I believe more ships will have arrived by then, so we will have a new Captain as well." Finally, he cut into the fish. It was stone cold, but also seemed appetizing at last.
"On the contrary, I believe that we already have a suitable candidate."
"Oh?"
"You, of course, Lieutenant. I think that you will find it useful to always keep on ear to the ground. I most certainly do, and what I have heard states that you handled yourself admirably."
"Governor..."
Governor Swann cut him off with the flick of a hand. "I won't hear it. The Endurance is yours until such time as a new captain arrives. Which I highly doubt will be the case; I have enough influence that my recommendations are normally accorded due weight."
James bowed his head again, moving the fish around on his plate with his fork. "Thank you, Governor. I will endeavor not to disappoint you."
"I don't see how you could...Captain." Governor Swann smiled. "Now, we should speak of lighter subjects."
"As you like." The fish, though cold, was quite good even if he was getting rather tired of fish. "My compliments to your cook."
"I will be certain to let her know." The Governor had already cleared his plate; the ubiquitous butler materialized to take it away. "Were you aware that a ship arrived while you were gone, bearing mail and other amenities from home?"
The fish was suddenly no longer quite so appetizing. James set his fork down and the plate was whisked away, replaced by another on in the next instant. Vegetables, this time. "Yes, actually, I found out shortly after our arrival." The letter that had been waiting for him, sitting atop the dinner invitation, was still in his pocket. In his mind, it was strangely heavy, as if the ink were made of lead.
"You received good news, I trust?"
"Yes, very." He said. The words felt odd in his mouth. "My eldest brother had written to tell me that Edward, the youngest of our family, has joined the church and since taken up residence at his parish."
"Very good news indeed, then." Governor Swann smiled, widely enough for them both.
"Indeed." He should have felt happy and proud that young Edward had done so well for himself. But that was part and parcel of the problem - young Edward was no longer so young, and he couldn't imagine it. When he thought of his brother, he always saw a boy, muddy and covered with scrapes from climbing trees. He couldn't imagine him as a man.
Just as he couldn't imagine England, which they still called home by habit, any longer. The green fields of the family estate were already fading into the grey of memory, and he was well aware that he would probably never see them again.
"You are close to your brother?"
"Our mother died after giving birth to him; she'd been weak since father had passed away some months before." James said, his smile pained. "John was busy trying to run the estate; it fell to me as the next oldest to raise little Edward. I never truly felt like his brother, Governor. More like a ridiculously young father."
"Ah, now it all begins to make sense." Governor Swann said, folding his napkin and setting it on the table. Another course had passed by, untouched by James. The butler brought out brandy to end the meal. "I had wondered what could distract a sailor so badly that he would allow food to pass him by."
"I apologize, Governor..."
"Nonsense, Captain, no need." He took up his snifter of brandy and examined it. "You see, it is a burden that I am all too familiar with. The problem with children, Captain, is that no matter how dearly you love them, they cannot help but grow up and leave you, confused at where the years have dashed off to. I had a younger sister that I was close to; one day, I suddenly realized that she had stopped running wild through the gardens and was getting married. And I know that all too soon, I shall be watching Elizabeth take the hand of her husband and wonder how so many years could pass by in the blink of an eye.
James nodded. "It is a feeling I was unprepared for."
"There's no way to steel yourself to it, not if you truly care, I'm afraid." Governor Swann tilted his head to the side, looking over James' shoulder. "Ah, you speak of the little devil, and she comes running."
The sound of bare feet pattering down the hall reached James' ears, and he turned to look. A moment later, the doors were flung open by a miniature whirlwind of brown hair and white linen - Elizabeth. A maid followed in her wake, breathless and flushed.
"Elizabeth, what are you doing out of bed?" The Governor asked.
"Sir, begging your pardon..." the maid gasped, bobbing up and down in curtsey after curtsey, "but she just wouldn't be still."
"Father," Elizabeth said, interrupting the maid, "she won't read to me, and I can't get to sleep."
The maid even more darkly, "Elizabeth, love, I already told you that I don't read..."
"You can read to yourself, Elizabeth. I taught you your letters quite some time ago." Governor Swann said, his expression as close to severe as he could ever seem to manage.
Elizabeth glanced at James, suddenly realizing that he was there. A blush crept up on her cheeks, and she bowed her head, her lower lip quivering. "It's just not the same." She whispered.
James glanced between the two. He had a feeling this was a bone of contention between them. But he couldn't bear to see the girl looking so sad, not today. "Governor, I realize you must have business to attend to. If Miss Swann would like, it would be my pleasure to read to her until she falls asleep."
Elizabeth nearly glowed with joy; she'd developed a certain childish fondness for him on the journey over from England. "Oh please, father, can he?"
The Governor smiled. "Will you promise me that tomorrow night, you will read to yourself?"
"I promise, father!"
"Then yes, I suppose that would be all right. Just this once. Be certain to thank him for his time."
Her smile was thanks enough. "Thank you, Lieutenant Norrington!"
"Actually, he is a Captain now, but you can remember that next time." Her father said. "Now, to bed with you. I will send him to you once he's finished his brandy."
"Yes, father!" She almost sang as she went pattering away, only a little more slowly than she had arrived. The maid shot James a look of gratitude before following.
"Thank you for your generous offer, Captain. I have been insisting that she read on her own since we arrived. It hurts me to miss that time with her, but I have simply not had the time. I do apologize for her wildness, however. She caught a chill shortly after you left and is only now recovering; I'm afraid that the medicine the doctor gave her has had a few queer side effects."
"It's a welcome sight, Governor, I assure you. A sign that life continues on." James finished his brandy in a hurried gulp. It was like fire in his belly. "I should be thanking you for allowing me this simple pleasure."
"Go on, then," he said. "We will speak more later."
Elizabeth's room was at the very end of the upstairs hall. He made certain to knock and wait for the maid to open the door; it wouldn't do at all to go bursting in. The maid smiled at him when she answered, mouthing "Thank you." She escorted him to the bedroom, then took a seat in the corner where her embroidery was laid out. The chair was positioned so she would be able to watch him easily, as was proper.
James sat on the surprisingly comfortable wooden chair by Elizabeth's bed. There was a tapestry cushion on the seat. The girl was already ensconced in a bundle of blankets and pillows, but her eyes were bright and alert. "Captain!" She exclaimed.
"So, Miss Swann, what am I to read to you tonight?"
She pulled a plain, leather bound book from beneath her quilt. "I have it here."
The slim volume was comfortable in his hand. He raised an eyebrow at the faded gold lettering on the spine. "Shakespeare's Sonnets, I see. You are a lady of impeccable taste, Miss Swann." She giggled at his mock seriousness; it was a sweet, almost crystal sound. "Do you have a particular favorite that I should begin with?"
"Yes, actually. I'm very fond of one hundred and sixteen."
He opened the book to the appropriate page, enjoying the feel of the smooth paper. Elizabeth had tucked wild flowers between the pages that gave off the ghost of their former sweetness. "A particular favorite of mine as well." He remarked, then began to read:
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not
love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to
remove...
She smiled as he read and clapped her hands as he finished before requesting another sonnet, and another. He couldn't have been happier to continue, until the moon was well in the sky and Elizabeth had fallen asleep. Even the maid dozed in the corner, her embroidery spread across her lap and a needle dangling from her fingers.
As softly as he could, he shut the book and set it on her bedside table. He was smiling now as well, the first genuine one he'd had in weeks. Careful not to wake her, he stood and leaned over to plant a gentle kiss on the forehead. It was daring and very improper; he didn't particularly care.
"Miss Swann," he whispered, "I have no doubt that you will grow to be a beauty the likes of which the world has yet to see; it shines in your eyes. And on that day, I will be able to say that I had loved you since you were but a girl."
She didn't stir as he tucked the blankets up around her chin. Feeling a bit like a thief, he stole from the room, shutting the door behind him.