Melt
The first time James kissed her they were in his office. It was late on the Sunday evening after she had told him where her heart truly lay. She had the audacity to turn up without a chaperone. It was the first real fight they had ever had. He yelled, she screeched. He accused and she threw things.
Needless to say, he had not taken her rejection as well as she had thought he had. It was only as she turned to leave that he seized her arm and kissed her suddenly, as the lone candle in the room guttered out, that she finally understood. The façade of the Commodore melted away, until all that was left was simply James.
All his feelings had come out in that physical expression of his love and passion, and as she was backed up onto the edge of his desk, hand knocking the documents onto the floor, before coming to rest in the sticky and hot remains of the candle, she thought to herself that she finally understood the expression: to melt.
Silk
Needless to say, her wedding dress was white (like his wig) but it was unconventional in one respect: it was made of silk. And no ordinary silk, but the shiniest, smoothest and silkiest silk she could find. There were murmurings of scandal as she walked down the aisle - not that that was anything new. The dress was draped simply and there were no adornments, only as much décolletage that she could get away with.
At the reception she delighted in the response from her new husband as she gave him a small wedding gift. They were of the same material as her dress and James was the only one who realized what they were, stuffing them under his chair quickly, hands clutching the edge of the table until his knuckles turned white.
Yes she thought, as she lay in their marriage bed, well sated, what bliss were silk bed sheets.
White
She loves the wig. But, at the same time, she hates the wig.
It makes him look noble, she thinks, and stands him out from the rest. It shows that he is on the side of right, God and light.
On the other hand, it is dreadfully old-fashioned. And, let's face it - it is not flattering. White has ever been James Norrington's colour, a typical, pale Englishman.
She loves it because it acts as a shield, protecting his dark hair from all eyes but hers – her little secret.
She hates it because it makes him that less human. It makes it that much harder for Will and Jack to understand that she fell in love with a wonderful man – not just the naval officer.
Yes, she thinks, as she pulls the wig from her husband's head. His mouth descending upon hers, she has a love/hate relationship with the white wig.