Passing Ships
Chapter Two: The Missive
The crew of the Elizabeth found a letter addressed to a Commodore James Norrington in a pool of seawater.
My Dear Mr. Norrington,
It seems that I have the pleasure of thanking you for taking such good care of my dear heart. And yet, it seems that I can't return the favor, as yet. In the meantime, I'll just watch over your lovely Miss Emily Swann (and company) until you find the means to return my property to me. You have forty days, Mr. Norrington. Your lady is too lovely to reside in my locker. Do not be late.
Sincerely,
Capt. D. Jones, Flying Dutchman
James Norrington stared at the paper in horror. How did Jones even know that he'd taken the heart and not Sparrow? The bloody pirate must have figured it out and talked! Sparrow always did maintain that save-yourself attitude. And yet, what was this about Emily? Sparrow didn't know Emily. She hadn't arrived from New York until after Sparrow had escaped on the Black Pearl. For the first time in quite a number of days, since reaching Port Royal in fact, his confidence faded.
"Excuse me, Lt. Raskin," he composed himself, "but it seems that I have put off a visit for a bit too long." Without waiting for a reply, he turned and strode out of the postings office, leaving the man who'd handed him the missive only moments earlier standing perplexed behind his desk.
When he arrived at the Governor's mansion he found it silent. The knock on the door echoed and when no one came to answer, he pushed and found it swung open. Weatherby Swann was sitting alone in his study. His wig was gone and he looked all the part of a crushed old man.
On seeing James he rose to his feet and came around the desk to warmly shake his future son-in-law's hand. "James! So good to see you! When did you come back?" He stared with a stranger's eyes.
"Just two days ago, sir. I needed to take care of a few business matters before I came to see your family. I have news of Elizabeth. You might want to sit down." He began the arduous task of telling his own story of the past eight months and then weaving in how he'd encountered Elizabeth and the Black Pearl in Tortuga. He left out the parts about the rum and the pigs. He also didn't boast of the fact that he'd been a midshipman on the pirate vessel, and he certainly didn't mention the matter of the heart that was his business with Lord Beckett.
The Governor hemmed and hawed over the small details of this and that, asking of Elizabeth again and again, of Will, offering James back his commission with the Navy now that he'd resurfaced. He said nothing of Emily. Where was Emily?
Elizabeth had said that her older sister had gone to sea a few months earlier with the excuse of visiting relations in New York and the purpose of searching the sites where his ship had reportedly been cast astray. She'd assumed that her sister would return in her absence. Emily was only supposed be gone two months. At her last count it had been about five.
"Governor, is Miss Emily at home?" He knew by the look on the Governor's face what the answer already was.
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The day Captain Jack Sparrow fell backwards over the battlements of the Port Royal fort had been one of the most difficult of James Norrington's life. He had watched as Elizabeth had chosen to help save the life of a known pirate over his promise of marriage, and then he had stood back and given her to the man he knew she truly loved. As he walked away from the couple, even the prospect of going after the Black Pearl itself couldn't cheer him. At 34 he knew his life was far from over. Lost love wouldn't kill him, but it sure did make a soul feel empty.
As the months passed, he fell back into his work of repairing the fort and preparing his ships to retrieve that wayward pirate Sparrow.
It was a Tuesday morning with a shining, bright sky, and he stood on Port Royal's dock talking with one of his many lieutenants about the dangers of wet gunpowder when the first of the launches from the freighter Elizabeth began to arrive. He had remembered seeing it's entry in the port's logs, but hadn't thought twice about it until now.
Elizabeth Swann and William Turner had walked down hand-in-hand from town and were standing quietly at the end of the pier away from the bustling sailors and dock workers. He glimpsed them talking out of the corner of his eye and let out a brief sigh. Elizabeth was such a beauty. Honey-colored hair, bright eyes, slim figure, and she possessed such animated poise. He envied Will Turner every time he saw her. He knew their wedding was still a few months off, but they gave off the unconscious appearance that they'd been together for years.
They appeared to be waiting for something, or someone, and Elizabeth in particular kept standing on tip-toes to get a better glimpse of the approaching launch.
A figure in the launch was standing, waving madly at the dock, much to the dismay of the launch's driver and other passengers. She, for it was definitely a she, was wearing a large sun bonnet and waving a parasol of sorts. If the boat hadn't looked so in danger of capsizing it might have been a comical scene.
She leapt from the boat even before it reached the dock, tossing her parasol, and dashed down the pier into the waiting arms of Elizabeth Swann who had broken away and skipped down the dock to stop next to James. The two figures almost collapsed as they fell into a hug.
"Lizba! It's been altogether too long! Look at how beautiful you are… and this must be the dashing Mr. Turner!" She addressed Will, who had walked down to stand next to Elizabeth, "My goodness, I remember you when you were just a small boy down at Mr. Brown's shop… and now I owe you so much!"
Did she breathe? It all came rushing out of the tall girl with the long curls of nut-brown hair.
"My little sister… about to be married… and you really thought I might miss it? Please, Elizabeth. I might be afraid of the ocean, but even Poseidon himself couldn't keep me from this!" Her laughter sounded a bit like ringing bells and she finally began to take stock of the atmosphere around her. She looked at James with eyes as grey as storm clouds.
"My bags should be on the second launch. I've brought you the most delicious items for your trousseau from New York. You should see some of the ridiculous things they're passing off as fashion there. I know my Elizabeth would turn up her sprite little nose, but don't you worry, I've only picked the best." She looked around again, "Is the governor with you?" She said it with a reluctant lift and James smiled as she referred to her father as the governor.
Elizabeth looked at Will and spoke for what seemed to be the first time. "Ah, no. He chose to remain at the house and properly welcome you there. We can go and see him now if you want. I can arrange to have your bags sent up with a porter. You must be tired after your trip."
Once again James smiled to himself. The girl clasping Elizabeth's hand appeared to be anything but tired.
"Miss Swann, you have to forgive me for interrupting, but if I may, I would be happy to arrange for your sister's luggage to be taken up to the Governor's mansion. And, I believe you dropped this, Miss." He handed her back the misplaced parasol. Emily had her full attention trained to him as he spoke.
"Thank you very much, Commodore Norrington," Elizabeth said with a smile. "It's very good of you. Once again I'm forgetting my manners, please let me properly introduce my sister, Miss Emily Swann of New York. She's here to help me with the wedding. Emily, this is Commodore James Norrington."
And as he bowed over her hand, he felt his heart beat faster for the first time in months.
