"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me…"
A child's voice echoed down from the deck of a ship, into the shimmering sea it sailed on. A smile flitted across Ari's lips as she swam, unbeknownst to those onboard, in the water below. The young girl aboard had a nice voice: high, sweet, and obviously not in full comprehension of the lyrics it wove. As the salty ocean mist swirled around her and captivated her senses, Ari tried to remember a time when she herself had dared to sing such dangerous words so ignorantly. She soon gave up, it had been more years than many would guess. Besides, she needed to return her focus to the reason she was there.
A boy, not more than twelve or thirteen, lay unconscious atop a scrap of wood, from a demolished ship by the looks of it .Ari pushed the boy gently, trying to get him within eyesight of someone onboard without being glimpsed herself. The young woman glanced at the coin strung around his neck - Aztec perhaps - and wondered what his story could possibly be. His clothes were torn and singed and filthy. No one else had been spotted near him. Ari gently grabbed his wrist to make sure his pulse was still there, stroking his wet hair in an almost older-sisterly way as she whisper-sang a comforting song. It didn't matter whether he could hear her or not.
At last, she heard sharp cries of surprise from the deck and men barking orders. Ari ducked beneath a wave and watched the wood leave the water as the boy was hauled aboard, mentally saying a prayer of thanks. About to swim away unnoticed, something crashed into the water.
Or, rather, someone.
A man in a black wig and the garb of someone important sank slowly, flailing his arms and legs to little success. Without hesitation, the Ari dove down quickly and grabbed the man's arms, and began to propel them towards the surface. She silently marveled at how few could swim. Ah, but who am I to judge? She thought to herself. It's not fair to hold normal people to my standards.
Ari wasn't conceited. Her feat of strength was made considerably easier by the fact that she had some distinct abnormalities.
The twosome broke the surface, the man gasping for breath and his rescuer pretending to do so. Ari felt his incredulous stare.
"There 'e is! Lieutenant Norrington! Who's that with 'im?"
"Don't just gawk at them, you goons! Lower the rope ladder!
The men spoke with an English cockney dialect, one voice younger and surprised, and the other gruff and bold, clearly meaning to be obeyed.
As Ari pulled the lieutenant to the ladder, she began to do some very quick thinking. She needed a logical explanation as to why as to why she was drifting so far from the coast now that she had been spotted.
As the man - Norrington, had they called him? - clung to the rope to stay afloat, he gestured for Ari to go up first. A gentleman, even after a near-death experience.
The rope ladder was a nightmare. Desperately trying how to work her legs, the shaky girl wobbled dangerously on every rung.
In a tangle of arms and words and coats from kind strangers, the bedraggled twosome somehow made it on board.
As Ari sat clutching a crewman's old rum-smelling coat around her, she tried to look inconspicuous as she did some very quick thinking. She was no doubt about to be asked why she was swimming alone so far from any coast. And how she had been able to rescue a man heavier than she from drowning. Painfully aware of the scrutinizing glances from everyone on the ship, Ari sat down hard and leaned her back against the rail. She closed her eyes, turned her face to the sun, and let the familiar rock of the ocean comfort her. She prayed for the boy and this Norrington to be safe, she hadn't seen either since being pulled aboard.
"Elizabeth, stop goggling her. It isn't polite." The hushed voice of a man interrupted Ari's thoughts. When she opened her eyes she saw a girl, about the age of the floating boy, was being told off by a bewigged fellow. Her father, judging by their similarities. They were both finely dressed and spoke with a more distinguished English than the sailors.
Ari gave a cautious wave and smile. With still-wobbly legs, she managed to stand and approach the two. "Excuse me, sir?" She asked the father. "My name is Ariadne Staraway. Might I inquire as to where I am?"
It felt strange being so collected and formal when she looked like such a mess. Ari's long brown hair was tangled and wet. Water droplets clung to the long, dark lashes that surrounded her green eyes, green eyes that were even larger than usual in alarm. She wore (besides the borrowed coat) a teal tunic and brown belt. Both were tattered and filthy.
"You are aboard the HMS Dauntless. I am Governor Weatherby Swann, and this is my daughter, Elizabeth. We are on course to arrive at Port Royal in a few days. Are you quite alright?" Swann responded in a friendly, yet somewhat nervous and awkward, manner. Ari really couldn't blame him for being reluctant to trust a bonkers 17-year-old who came out of nowhere.
"Yes, I'm fine, thank you. Is everyone else…?"
"All safe, I assure you. The child is breathing just fine. In fact, I think Elizabeth ought to go watch over him now." Swann gave his daughter a gentle nudge towards the sleeping boy. Elizabeth obeyed, waving shyly to Ari as she left. Swann continued. "Lieutenant Norrington fell overboard as he was hauling the wood up. I've just spoken to him, a few minutes ago, and he is just fine. Obviously, he would like to meet you." He pointed her in the direction of the soggy lieutenant and left, seeking a word with the captain.
Norrington had extricated himself from most of the concerned crew and was now speaking to a stout sailor as Ari walked unsteadily towards the two men.
"Forgive me, Lieutenant, but it's frightful bad luck to have a woman aboard. It's bad enough we've already got the miniature one." The sailor was saying.
"Enough, Mr. Gibbs. That young lady saved my life. Are you suggesting we toss her to the sharks?"
"She ain't normal, sir. Who in the name of Blackbeard's boots swims in these waters and happens across a drowning…"
They saw Ari approaching at the same time. As if on cue, her bare foot caught on a loose plank and she nearly slipped to the floor. As her face came in very close proximity to the dirty wood, Ari felt strong hands steady her gently. Lieutenant Norrington righted her, then offered her his arm and made to lead her away.
"Mr. Gibbs, surely the captain wouldn't mind if I borrowed his office for a moment or two?" He asked Gibbs pointedly, clearly closing their previous argument. Gibbs muttered something about asking the captain, and stole a suspicious glare at Ari as he hastened away.
Being led to a set of fancy carved doors, Ari managed to get a good look at Norrington. He couldn't be much older than she was (or looked, at least) with handsome features and kind eyes. Kind, but not short on courage or experience, Ari decided.
The captain's office was small and stuffy, but filled with marvelous sketches and maps and books that whispered Ari's name. She became s instantly absorbed that she jumped a little when Norrington spoke to her.
"Don't believe we've formally met. Lieutenant James Norrington. Would you care for a cup of tea, Miss…?"
"Staraway. Ariadne Staraway. And yes, that would be lovely. Thank you"
"What a beautiful name. As in, a goddess and princess of the sea in Greek mythology? It means 'intelligent beauty,' correct?" Norrington asked, handing Ari her tea.
Impressive.
"Yes, sir" Ari answered softly, accepting a warm mug and staring at the floor.
"Please, call me James. Are you okay?"
Ari looked up into his eyes. This lieutenant she had barely met was willing to throw formality to the wind. He sounded so genuinely concerned about her well-being that it made her suddenly want to weep with gratitude. To be honest. To say no, she was most certainly not okay. She had not been okay for a very long time. Throat too tight for words, Ari nodded. Crazy old bat! She scolded herself. She was always more on top of things and spunky, what was wrong with her?
"Dare I ask what you were doing deep in the Atlantic Ocean with no boat?" James asked.
"Swimming…" Ari offered vaguely.
And rescuing careless lieutenants, apparently. I owe my life to you, Miss Staraway." He suddenly looked her straight in the eye. "Thank you."
There was a brief pause.
"You owe me nothing, James. That was just a bit of a detour. And call me Ariadne. Or Ari. Or anything really, just not 'Miss Staraway'." She smiled then, her first real smile since being aboard the Dauntless. James hesitated only a moment before smiling back.
Ari's smile became a grin. Her grin became laughter. Eventually, her laughter became words. But first she totally cracked up for little apparent reason, feeling her worries float away with the fresh sea breeze. Then she began to tell James about her life, her passions, her home – a tiny island called Poseidon. James smiled amusedly at her laughing fit, and then listened to her story (which, though it pained her to lie, she had left quite a bit out of).
When the captain needed his office back, James offered Ari his arm and escorted her around the Dauntless, introducing her to everyone onboard. Each had a story to tell, and was delighted to find Ari a perfect listener; she laughed and gasped at all the right parts. James couldn't help smiling as he watched her recall a few of her own tales. She seemed to sparkle as she waved her hands dramatically and performed hilarious impressions of pirates, teachers, and nobles. It was obvious that captivating an audience was an art.
They boy found floating, they discovered, had come to and was now standing awkwardly with the exact expression Ari had worn a few hours ago. Alarm, caution, and deep thought. His name was Will, but he said little more than that. If Will was like Ari, then young Elizabeth was his James. The two were instantaneous friends, and Ari's couldn't help thinking what a lovely couple they might make someday.
As evening fell, Ari realized she had little chance of being able to sleep soundly on a strangle ship full of relatively unfamiliar people. She had seen too much for that. Instead she sat cross-legged on the deserted deck, clearing her mind and treasuring the last rays of a magnificent sunset.
"You needn't leave." Ari said suddenly, without turning around.
James Norrington froze, midway through a hasty retreat from the deck. He was having second thoughts about acting on an uncharacteristically bold impulse to join her. His wig and hat were gone, revealing his hair to be a nice shade of brown. "If you would forgive me, Miss Sta – Ariadne. I didn't mean to intrude upon you and your thoughts."
Ari swiveled around to face him. "I was not pondering anything of great consequence." She said. Then, hesitantly, she added, "I apologize if this is, perhaps, less than proper, but I would not at all mind some company. I see you don't look much sleepier that I." She tentatively offered.
"I see no reason why not. It is a gorgeous night for stargazing, isn't it?" James took a seat beside Ari, taking care not to sit close enough to make her uncomfortable. Not that it was a remotely romantic moment. On the contrary, Ari felt a little as though she had found a long-lost brother. They actually looked a bit alike, with their straight brown hair and eyes the exact same shade of green: the hopeful light emerald of the sea just after a storm, when a few of the dark clouds begin to clear, and what might be the first ray of hopeful sun shines through. An ocean that is no longer deadly black, but not quite back to blue either. At that last thought, Ari realized that she was no longer simply describing eye color.
"James?" She asked abruptly as a thought that had pestered her surfaced again.
"Yes?"
"Why am I the only person on this ship who calls you 'James'? There are men here who seem to have known you for years, and they address you as 'Lieutenant.' I've known you for about eight hours. Yet, here we are: on a first-name basis, gazing at the stars together like old friends."
James frowned slightly, but in concentration, not displeasure at Ari's frank question. He seemed to be asking himself the same thing. Finally, he spoke. "I don't pretend to be a wordsmith, so goodness knows how much sense this will make. But right then, as you stood in that office looking bedraggled, wet, and maybe even a little scared, you looked as though you had quite enough to worry about without the addition of formalities and titles. And… you looked as though you might use a friend."
James looked up at Ari, but averted his eyes again when she met his gaze. After an excruciatingly awkward pause, Ari piped up.
"Are you offering to be my friend?"
The slightest shimmer of almost desperate hope was evident behind the mischievous edge in her voice.
"Would it be too forward to say yes?" James asked.
"Not at all, I assure you." Ari said, biting back a laugh of relief and delight.
"Then, yes. Very much, yes. Excellent." James replied, returning her genuine smile. He allowed a sweet few seconds of silence, then stood and helped Ari to her feet. "You really ought to get some sleep…Ari. I set up a makeshift bed for you in a storage area. Not the most glamorous or comfortable, but I thought you'd prefer it to a hammock with the crew."
"Thank you, that sounds wonderful." Ari meant it. She kept her voice calm, but it really was touching that he had thought of her. And that he had called her Ari. She didn't say more, but she knew James heard the thanks that ran deeper than a cot in a supply closet. She was thanking him for letting her go up the rope ladder to safety first, for defending her to Gibbs, for the tea, for the introductions, for the friendship she had never dared to hope for.