Chapter 2

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Governor Swann hurried after the young lieutenant before him, his anxiety at near apoplectic levels. Having only been told that the Commodore wished to see him immediately, his imagination and gone into overdrive, imagining everything from a fatal wound to the Commodore to the necessity for imminent surrender of the city.

However, what awaited him was far worse.

Having reached the Commodore's office, his escort fell back, allowing the Governor to precede him. With barely a knock for courtesy, the governor opened the door, ready to swoop in only to land his eyes upon the shocking sight of the Commodore, on his knees, heaving into what appeared to be the rubbish bin.

With surprising perspicacity, he stepped swiftly in and shut the door, blocking the lieutenant in the halls view of his commanding officer in so compromising a situation. After a moment, he looked up, and the wretchedness in his gaze caused the older man to tremble inwardly. Whatever it was, it was most assuredly bad.

With surprising baldness, he rasped, "They've taken her. The pirates have taken Elizabeth."

The trembling turned into outright shaking as the governor lowered his suddenly ancient feeling body into the chair standing in front of the desk.

In a voice that shook nearly as badly as the rest of him, he asked, "What can we do?"

The younger man heaved himself up and into the chair behind the desk, then leaned forward onto it, propping his head in his hands as he ran them into his dark hair, knocking his wig askew and looking as manic as the governor was beginning to feel.

"I don't know," he whispered. He looked up searchingly into the other man's face, tears beginning to cloud his green eyes, "I don't know."

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Weatherby Swann had been many things in his 54 years. Including a friend to the younger man before him. He remembered the first time he had made the acquaintance of the young James Norrington, at a party his father, Lord Norrington, had been hosting. The then fresh-faced and newly commissioned Lieutenant Norrington had looked so uncomfortable. With his fine looks and in his brand-spankingly new regimentals, he was attracting quite a lot of attention form the petticoat crowd…not particularly desired attention if the look on the young mans face was anything to go by. Deciding to take pity on the boy, he had wandered over and engaged him in a discussion of battle tactics, effectively scattering the pea gooses that had collected.

The young man had heaved an almost visible sigh of relief and then grinned shyly at him.

"Thank you, sir," he offered.

Weatherby waved it off.

"Think nothing of it, my boy. The ladies can be a bit overwhelming at times, especially if not used to it."

He took a moment to study the boy..no..man in front of him before offering a short bow.

"Lord Weatherby Swann, at your service, sir."

The young man bowed smartly back, "Lieutenant Sir James Norrington, pleased to meet you sir."

Weatherby smiled hugely, "HaHA, I thought you must be Nevvie's boy! Quite grown up since last I saw you!"

The 'boy' in question grinned, then shrugged his shoulders in a different sort of move.

"Indeed, my lord. Although I cannot say that I remember that previous meeting."

"Indeed I should say not, since you must have been only all of 5 or 6 years of age at the time! And quite the handful you were, oh yes indeed! Your father was quite pressed to keep up with you."

Jams grimaced, an odd look coming over his face as he flashed a glance to where his father stood, immersed in conversation with several cronies.

"Yes, I imagine so." he murmured.

So, like that is it? Weatherby took a long drink form the goblet in his hand and then set it decisively on the occasional table beside them.

"Have you ever been to any of the countries colonies, lieutenant?"

James cocked his head, "No, sir, I cannot say as I have yet, although I imagine I shall soon be deployed to one or another of them."

Weatherby then began to regal him with a tale the land manager of one of his friend's had related to that man regarding a funny happening at one of his island estates.

Thus began an unlikely sort of friendship and the passing of a most convivial evening. As the months passed, Weatherby found himself quite enjoying the companionship of the much younger man. His awkward but earnest friendship endeared him to the older man and made him occasionally wonder what it would have been to have a son. For without doubt, he loved his Elizabeth, doted on her above all things, but, with all, she was still only a female, and there were things that she simply could not be expected to know…much less discuss over port and cigars.

He felt for James. Understood, from his knowledge of the lad's father, jut why he seemed to find his own friendship so alluring. A stern man at the best of times, Lord Neville Norrington had seemed to lose what little softness he may have once possessed with the death at sea of his second wife and daughter, James' mother and sister. He mused, from time to time, that it must have been at the very least, a grim household to live in. It was no wonder the boy had escaped to the military… he was only surprised that his father had been convinced to purchase the lad his commission in the navy, all things considered.

But, James was the second son, there being a first, much older son born to Neville's first wife, who had died with that boy's birth. Harry was 14 years James' senior and had never been much interested in his younger brother's life.

Despite all this, or perhaps because of it, James had taken to the Navy like the proverbial duck to the waters, no pun intended. Possessing a seemingly natural aptitude for the life of a seaman, coupled with his intelligence, tenacity and an almost utterly unflappable nature, it was no surprise to Lord Swann that the young man began to write to him of commendations and praise from his superiors, always couched in the humblest of language though. He was always sure to offer his sincerest congratulations, sensing that his young friend had need of this fatherly approbation from him…

It was no coincidence that had seen lieutenant Norrington on the same ship as the Governor when he traveled to Port Royal, nor had it been one that saw him given a post at the fort there, the governor's sly hand seeing to it that James had the chance to move as highly up as those selfsame traits he had always admired would take him.

And he had certainly taken the opportunity and turned it into gold. Youngest Commodore of the Fleet in near 30 years. Weatherby was uncommonly proud of the lad…

As he allowed his tear-glazed gaze to now focus up the shaken, and shaking, younger man before him, he prayed with all that was within him that those qualities he had so admired in the Commodore would be up the unfathomable task that lay before them now…

He was the only one who could bring Elizabeth home.