Not Who You Thought

Author's Note: The second of the fics I wrote while on vacation. Hope you like it!

Chapter One

Amelia threw down her sword; she was backed into a corner, defeated. But instead of surrendering she lashed out and knocked her opponent's sword out of his hand. Then with a scream of rage she launched herself at him, flailing angry fists at any part of him she could hit. He fought back of course, and soon they were making quite a ruckus, what with all the kicking, screaming and pulling of hair. In the end they were only separated by the worried parents who ran into the room and pulled their warring five year olds apart.

Amelia was very stubborn and very proud and she hated it when James bested her, which was most of the time. They didn't often behave like this, but you know how little children can act.

This incident was a classic example of how Amelia saw fit to deal with opposition: hit it, kick it, and make it cry and it will eventually give up. Of course she learned very quickly that this behavior was just not acceptable in society; it was more befitting to the orphans that roamed the streets of London. But she hated it most when James beat her at pirates. Just because he was a boy and was to be a midshipman when he was older did not mean he should always win.

This was what she told her mother when she asked why Amelia had been fighting.

"He never lets me win Mummy," she whined.

"Emmy, you know he is not like that. And if he did you would not be happy either. You would say he was treating you like a helpless little girl, which I should point out you are darling, and you would hit him to show him you weren't. I know you Emmy; you must be content with just playing the game. It's not always about winning."

Amelia stalked out of the room and went to the big chair in the library to pout. She would be better than him someday and she knew it.

By the time they were twelve she had still not bested him. She was much better at lessons but that didn't matter to her. James was better at fencing and at riding; he was also taught to shoot, which Amelia was forbidden. At least he did not rub it in; he was very good about that.

Then it came time for James his career as a midshipman in His Majesty's Royal Navy and he left on the HMS Victory. Amelia did not see him for a long time. She would write to him aboard the Victory and he would send her letters and packages whenever they made port. Amelia kept up her fencing and her riding but she found less and less time for them as she was tutored in French, Latin, music, art, etiquette, embroidery, the managing of a household and so many other subjects that became young ladies. Her parents were very happy that she was outgrowing her wild streak and taking an interest in London society.

Amelia was the happiest, however, when James came home. They would go to the theatre, to the races and to numerous balls and parties. But she always got him to go riding for an afternoon or to have a duel with the fencing foils. Amelia did not really expect to best him in these any longer but she was a fine dancer and a shrewd better at the races.

James passed his lieutenancy exams when he was sixteen and Amelia saw almost nothing of him after that. They still sent and received letters but both felt the letters meant something more now, something different.

The last time they were together was at Amelia's twenty-first birthday celebration. She was not yet married or betrothed but her parents had high hopes, and for good reason. Neither she nor James would spend time with anyone else who could be a potential match.

A few days after the party Amelia stood on the docks as the HMS Dauntless sailed for Port Royal, Jamaica. James stood at the stern as she waved tearfully good-bye, blank faced and rigid. But inside he missed her just as much. It was to be a permanent position, manning Fort Charles and increasing the military strength of the city under the new governor who also sailed on the Dauntless. Port Royal was a burgeoning trade center and it needed the extra protection from pirates.

Still Amelia wrote him and he wrote her back. But one day her letters stopped. It was many months before he received any words. When James did receive word it was from Amelia's parents. She had disappeared without a trace one day. There had been searches and notices posted to no avail. They sent their deepest apologies and condolences knowing he had loved her more than anything.

But Amelia was not dead, thought she was in a considerable amount of danger and her future was uncertain. One thing was certain to her however, she was going to come out on top.

Many years later...

Captain Emmy Burns woke from her peaceful slumber. She had dreamt of fighting with James as a little girl again. It was one memory she could not get rid of. True, she had loved her home and her family in England and she had certainly loved James but it had all gotten ruined when she had had the impulse to go to him. Pirates had happened. Now after everything was over and done with and she was established she did not linger over her past, it hurt too much and she could not go back.

She pulled on her dressing gown and left her cabin. After checking with the man on watch she walked to the rail and let the ocean spray hit her face.

"What was our position last you checked?" she called to the man at the helm.

"Rounding the Florida coast, Captain," he called back.

That was good. The North American coast had plenty of traffic but the good prizes were in the Caribbean. The warm breeze that ruffled her hair confirmed it. They were in Caribbean waters.

Emmy returned to her cabin. She got out all her charts and laid them on the table with the compass and sundial and the other instruments needed for calculating position. With that done she removed her dressing gown and blew out the lamp, climbing back into bed and dreaming of the riches to come.