For moldycookies, who asked for "an Elizabeth/Norrington...ficsicle?...nothing too angsty for the genre...rating: I honestly do not care if they have sex or throw feathers at each other...prompt: leaves." I discovered I really hate these movies (except for that Jack/Elizabeth kiss in #2) when I watched them. Fortunately for me, James dies. And I almost completely threw out canon. The time period is the same, that's pretty much it. Even so, I like this one. It's tooth-rotting fluff, but it's adorable. 'Tis my sincerest hope that my moldy enjoys her Chanukah/Christmas fic and I wish you a belated Happy Chanukah, Christmas, and New Year.
"Momma, Momma, the leaves have fallen!" her little boy, Benjamin, cried. "May we play in them?"
"Please, Momma," her little girl, Jane, begged. "We've been so good today!"
Elizabeth Norrington smiled slightly at her children. James was away this week on the Queen's business and her children felt free to act their actual ages. They so rarely got to have any naughty fun, for when their father was home, he did his best to impress upon them the importance of duty.
They were to be good little children, quiet and obedient. Their mother and their nanny were far more indulgent, but still...
"Have you had your lessons today?" Elizabeth asked quite seriously, looking up from the embroidery she still hadn't found a taste for. "Have you minded your nanny and eaten your vegetables?" She couldn't give up every bit of propriety.
"Of course we have, Momma!" Benjamin informed her, his tone a touch mischievous, as if they really hadn't, but then Elizabeth knew they hadn't, and she didn't particularly care. Her children wanted to play outside, and if that was what they wanted, it was what they would get. Today, at least.
"Very well, then," Elizabeth said generously. "Shall we go?" She set down the embroidery hoop on her table and stood, her cumbersome skirts swishing around her legs.
As she led them through their manor, she studied her son and daughter, both of whom were carbon copies of her husband. Benjamin was seven years old, Jane was four, and already they both adopted James' serious demeanour when he was around. She loved them both more than her own life, and her favorite sound in the world was their laughter, such as rang out when, after bundling them into warm autumn jackets, she herded them out onto the back lawn.
The head gardener grinned jovially at the children, leaning on his rake. "Benny!" he exclaimed, winking at Elizabeth. "And little Janie! Well, would you look at this, all wrapped up and ready to play. What is the game today?"
"Leaf-jumping!" Jane burst out excitedly. She clapped her hands over her mouth, casting a guilty look at her brother.
"Oh, my!" the gardener gasped, contriving to seem shocked. "You'd better go on and get started, then. The best piles are over there," he added, in a conspiratorial whisper. He pointed off to the left, where the leaves were piled highest. With happy shrieks, the children raced off, making the man chuckled delightedly.
He ambled over to his mistress. "Afternoon, milady," he greeted her, tipping his hat.
"Hello, Matty," Elizabeth said back. "Thank you for letting them ruin all your hard work."
"Not a problem, milady," Matty said, waving his hand. "My staff will hate me, most like, but then they already do most of the time anyhow."
"I'll make it up to you," she offered.
"Don't worry your head about it, Lizzie," Matty told her dismissively. "Hard work's good for 'em. You go on and look after your young ones." He made shooing motions at her.
Smiling softly, Elizabeth picked her way across the yard. As she went, the laughing and joyous cries of her children grew in volume, lifting her own heart.
She settled onto a bench to watch them carefully. For a long time, they simply took turns leaping into the huge piles of fallen brown leaves, but when the piles began to scatter too much for them to do that anymore, they grabbed handfuls of them and tossed them playfully at each other.
Once, Benjamin tried to get mean to Jane, but a quick threat of withholding cake at supper had him behaving again.
The two had just started a game wherein they tossed armfuls of leaves into the air and avoided them as they fell back to the ground when Elizabeth heard a sigh behind her. She started and stood, turning as she did so, to come face-to-face with her husband. He'd removed his powdered wig and uniform and stood there in a simple outfit with his natural hair. It was far more appealing.
"James!" she scolded. "You frightened me, sneaking up on a lady so!"
He smiled slightly. "I apologise, my dear," he said. His eyes flicked past her to their children gallivanting about. "I see you've been persuaded to allow them to behave as hooligans," he added, but his tone wasn't scolding, as it might normally have been. Rather, he seemed amused.
"I can call them back into line," Elizabeth retorted, stung.
"No, no," James said quickly. His eyes looked to be dancing. "They'll only be this young once. Let them play. I am rather enjoying their laughter."
Startled, Elizabeth nodded. "A-Alright," she stammered, and turned back around to watch them again. She jumped outright when she felt two strong arms wrap around her waist and she was pulled against James' warm, solid chest. Elizabeth heard his low rumbling laugh in her ear, and relaxed into him.
"I thought you were going to be gone until Saturday," she said quietly.
"I was, but we finished our business earlier than expected," James told her.
"You came home straight away?" Elizabeth asked, a little skeptically. James could get so tied up in work that he would be gone for days. She almost never knew when she was going to see him again.
"I realized I couldn't remember the last time I heard my children giggling," he murmured. He seemed guilty. "I couldn't remember the last time I held my wife, either, and so I decided to come home and do so. Do they always behave this way when I'm not here?"
"What?" Elizabeth had lost track of the thread of conversation. James' hand gestured to the children. "Oh! No, not always. They've been very good lately, so I thought I'd let them have a treat and behave like 'hooligans.'"
"They seem to be having a gay old time," James remarked, laughter thickening his tone. "Shall we join them?"
Before she could protest, he'd dragged her to their children, who tried to whip themselves into shape, and were duly shocked when their father dropped their mother into a pile of leaves and began to bury her.
Then they played merrily.
And when they all went inside to hot cider several hours later with dead leaves and grass in their hair and clothing, they were all exhausted, content, and laughing.