(I own nothing from the franchise, only the OCs)

Chapter 1

The residents of Port Royal slowly began to emerge from their homes as the sun once again returned to the sky, chasing away all evidence of the terrible storm that had raged outside just moments ago. The skies had been clear and bright that day, giving the storm an almost otherworldly aura as it had seemed to materialize from nothing. It was strange to witness such weather with hurricane season still months away, yet the residents of the colony had learned to take oddities in stride.

From her perch on a private balcony of the Governor's mansion, Katherine Conner watched the vast blue water of the Caribbean that stretched out to the horizon. Months earlier she had been at the center of London society, a regular at nearly every event. By comparison Port Royal often seemed a bit dull. At the time her father announced that the Conner family would be relocating to Port Royal at the request of their family friend, Weatherby Swann, she had been forced to give up nearly everything about the life she knew and her prospects for the future. For some time she had found herself resenting the decision, even though she was aware there was no possible way her father could refuse.

It had been rumored that Governor Swann had been called to return to England. A short time later though, her father had been able to confirm that it was simply a rumor and nothing more, and the truth that he had died at sea became common knowledge throughout the colony. It was not long after that her own father was given the position of Governor and she knew her life would never again be what it was. All hope of return to England faded the moment the papers had arrived, and there was a slow acceptance that she would now be a permanent resident of Jamaica. Port Royal was her home, and her reality was forever changed.

The sun was starting to set when she turned her attention back to the sea. During their crossing she had fallen in love with the blue depths and its ever changing qualities. She loved the way the breeze caused the wisps of red that escaped from her bun to dance and tickle her face, she loved the color of the water after a storm, which he father said matched the color of her eyes, and she especially loved the way the sound could lull her to sleep at night. Living so close to the natural beauty of the ocean was perhaps the one redeeming factor in all that had happened.

As the sun dipped to its lower on the horizon she stayed rooted in her place, watching the sky turn from blue to various shades of pink and orange. As it dipped to its lowest point on the horizon her eyes took in a sight she never experienced in all her time in the Caribbean. There was a curious green flash of light, something she had only heard talk about in the context of old tales of the sea but never actually experienced. On the crossing she had befriended an older officer. In the evenings he had taken to telling her stories of the sea, some of which seemed to be nothing more than fairy tales. When he spoke of the green flash he had said it signaled the departure or return of a soul to or from the world of the living. She had scoffed at the time. She scientifically minded, thanks to her father's insistence that she be well educated even though she was a woman and her experiences in life. Often she had struggled with the idea of a soul and an afterlife, no matter what the church told her time and time again, and had found herself even more skeptical of the very idea that a soul could return from the supposed land of the dead. At the time she had told the office she suspected that perhaps he had heard the tale from a drunken pirate. If she couldn't see or touch something for herself she always doubted the validity of the claim, blind faith was something she had given up on long ago.

As the last bits of light faded, her eyes moved from the horizon back to the shore line. Spying something rather unexpected, she gasped slightly in surprise. Lying face down in the sand was a lone figure of what appeared to be a man. His clothes were tattered and he looked as if he had been adrift for days, obviously a victim of the seas. Until the moment he moved his hand slightly she had been prepared for the fact that he had likely drowned. Yet the action caused to spring to life, and turning, she made her way quickly from the balcony, pulling the bell to alert the servants as she ran from her private chambers. He needed help and as the sun had set it could be hours before another came upon him. By that time it was likely he would truly claimed by the Caribbean.

"Father!" she cried running down the steps, hoping her voice would carry through the mansion. "Father, come quickly! Someone has washed up on the beach."

She did not dare wait to see if anyone would follow her, her mind focused solely on reaching the man. Throwing open the large glass doors, she practically ran down the garden steps to the beach below, hoping she wasn't too late. He hadn't moved since she last set eyes on him from her secluded balcony, and his stillness caused a knot to form in her stomach.

Kneeling next to him, she rolled him over; his head came to rest in her lap. His dark hair fell across his face and when she brushed it back she was shocked to find his green eyes were open. Slowly, his gaze focused on her for a moment and Katherine felt her heart rate quicken at the intensity of his gaze. He seemed to be studying her as she cradled his head in her lap, as if trying to determine if she was real or a hallucination of the sea.

The man seemed familiar to her and it took a moment for her to place the handsome face. He had sailed from Port Royal with Beckett and Governor Swann not long after her arrival in Port Royal. Although there had been no formal introduction, his uniform had been that of a high ranking member of the navy and he had always had an air of power and command about him when she saw him speaking with the former Governor. Noticing her tattered clothing, it appeared they were what was left of the uniform of a British Naval Officer. He slowly raised a shaking hand and his cool fingers brushed over the warm skin of her cheek. After a moment his hand slipped away as he fell back into unconsciousness.

Looking up frantically she turned her gaze back towards the mansion. To her relief her father was moving towards them followed by several of the house's servants. The short distance seemed to take the group an eternity her fear that the man would slip away over riding her sense of time.

"Hurry!" she cried, her tone frantic, not moving from her spot in the sand.

When the servants finally reached them, he was lifted from her lap and she found herself missing the feeling she had gotten from cradling him, the natural instinct to care for one in need. Her thoughts were interrupted as her father offered her his hand and she rose from her place on the sand, shaking it from her skirt as she walked back to the mansion. The servants seemed to take care as the carried the man up the stairs.

"Who is he?" she asked, her father.

Her father guided her behind the servants, moving up the stairs towards the mansion. His hand rested on her back, as if he was afraid she would somehow wander from his side. The servants turned towards the guest chambers, and Katherine followed without a second thought, her father still at her side.

"I believe he is Admiral James Norrington, or what is left of him," he told her. "I cannot be sure though until he wakes. I had gotten a report he had died at sea…curious he should wash up alive here."

"It seems the news from the East India Trading Company is not as reliable as we had hoped," she told him with a slight smirk. Cutler Beckett and his men had never been particular high on her list of those to trust.

As they reached the guest chambers, one of the servants closed the door so they could set to the task of getting him cleaned up and into warm, dry clothing. Katherine could not help shaking her head a bit at the constant reminder of what was proper in society. The unwed maids could care for the man; the daughter of the governor could not. Instead she was to be cut off from a man she had just saved on the beach, and she noted the slight ache to be near him and ensure he would survive this ordeal. It would certainly be a change from the usual dullness of daily life in the colony, although she suspected her father would not allow her to be involved with the Admiral's care.

"Father," she said softly, standing with him in the hallway just outside the guest room, "Might I make a request?" When the Governor nodded she took a deep breath, preparing for him to refuse, and continued, "I would like to oversee the Admiral's care once he is resting."

Her father regarded her for what seemed like an eternity without speaking. He was considering everything that might happen, the ramifications within the colony's society of an unwed woman of society tending to the Admiral.

"Would you be willing to take no for an answer?" he asked, gently smiling at his daughter. It appeared he also knew Katherine would likely continue to try to change his mind should he tell her no. She was stubborn, much like her mother and she knew that was part of the reason he adored them both and why he often gave into requests.

She shook her head no and he answered, "I didn't think so."

"Father, what harm could that man possibly do to me?" she asked him. "He hardly had the strength to lift his hand; he couldn't possibly rise from the bed in his current condition."

"For now you're right," he conceded with a sigh. "However, if the time comes that I feel it is no longer proper for you to be the room with the Admiral, I ask that you obey my wish."

"Of course," she said, with a slight smile.

It was then that the door opened once more, and a faint light filtered into the hallway from the room. Katherine could see the man lying on the bed, his chest rose and fell gently and she gave a slight sigh of relief that he was sleeping peacefully. If one looked at him in this state they might not realize the ordeal he had obviously survived.

Her own maid, Ruth, was the final person to leave the room and Katherine stopped her before she could return to her normal duties. The other woman had accompanied the family from England and she was close in age to Katherine. They had long ago formed a friendship and she trusted Ruth to be honest with her regarding the Admiral.

"How is he?" she asked.

"He's resting, my lady," Ruth told her. "It's amazing he's even alive."

"What do you mean?" Katherine questioned, feeling her curiosity as to what ever fate had befallen the Admiral take over.

"On his chest, miss," she said, almost shuttering. "He has a scar from an injury that would have been fatal on anyone else."

Katherine nodded almost absentmindedly as she considered this development. Ruth moved off to finish preparing dinner and the other responsibilities, leaving Katherine alone in the hall once more, as her father had also gone back to his study. She was alone in the hall, watching the man on the bed for a moment, almost unsure what to do now that she had her wish and she was alone and responsible for his care for the time being.

She moved slowly towards the bed, watching his face as she crossed the distance between them. He seemed at peace in the moon light, and the warmth of dry clothing and a small fire seemed to bring the color back to his cheeks. Sitting on the edge of the bed she tried not to think about how attractive his features truly were, instead focusing on the information Ruth had provided a moment ago.

Gently, she moved one side of his open shirt to show a bit more of his chest. In the middle of his well-defined muscles there was a pink scar about an inch and a half in diameter. It seemed whatever object had passed through him had missed his heart, but certainly would have caused other serious damage. Surely he had only escaped death from such an injury by some sort of miracle.

As her fingers brushed over the scar his hand suddenly wrapped around her wrist as a gasp escaped from his lips. Looking up at him she noticed his eyes were unfocused and while he was looking in her general direction, he appeared to be looking through her instead of at her. The confusion he felt was obvious and Katherine ached to ease his tortured mind.

"It's alright," she said softly, "you're safe now."

He slowly released her wrist as his eyes closed again. As he sank back onto the pillow he whispered a single world, "Elizabeth."

Reaching out once more, Katherine gentle pushed a stray lock of hair from his face. As she did so she noticed that the creases in his forehead eased as if her touch had taken away the tension. His breathing became even once more and it seemed he was at peace for the time being.

"You poor man," she said softly. "What happened to you?"