Author's Note: Hey guys, it's been a while. I got to a block and wasn't sure where to go, and then things got busy. I suppose I'll keep writing filler--er, 'character building'--chapters to keep you types happy until I get some direction again. Thanks to Mouse In the Opera House for kicking my butt and getting me to update!

Chapter Three

James Norrington took up his pen again.

Shortly after the dinner party, Admiral Braithwaite became engaged to Miss Isabelle Parks, the eldest of the two sisters. There was much talk throughout Port Royal, as his wife had died only a year and a half ago, but eventually society declared it a good match on both sides. With wedding preparations taking most of his time, the Admiral didn't seem to find the time to handle his duties as naval commander of Port Royal, and encouraged by Governor Swann, handed over many of the administrative duties to his senior officers.

It is not for me to say a word against my superior officers, but for whatever reason, much of the work fell into my hands. I was young, and eager to prove myself, and I learned much during that year. It was I who instituted the first census of Port Royal, uncovering scores of illegal and piratical activity among the unemployed.

While the Admiral was enjoying the smiles and flattery of Miss Parks and her mother, I established a public works program, supplied by the convicts from the city gaol. Within the first month, these former thieves and murderers had repaired the battered Southern ramparts of the fort, the belfry in the church, and were set to build a new schoolhouse abutting the old to house the growing number of affluent children in Port Royal. I must say I did very well, taking the methods of Admiral Braithwaite a step further. It is only due to the Governor's efforts that I actually received credit for my improvements, much to the chagrin of my fellow officers.

At the end of the year the wedding finally came. It was a lavish affair, and all of fashionable Port Royal was in attendance. Again, I was encouraged to dance with several amiable and accomplished young ladies, while their mothers cooed over all of my fine improvements.

As it was an afternoon party, Elizabeth was present, looking like a slender china doll in her blue frock, with her hair laced with dozens of shimmering ribbons. As I chatted with Mrs. Applegate--whose niece, she was informing me, would arrive in Port Royal next month unattached--I watched her. She was doing her very best to stand still and not muss her appearance, very clearly on orders from her governess who was standing by, looking rather wistfully at the dancers. As I watched, a young man crossed the courtyard and asked the governess to dance. She accepted, gladly, seeming to forget her young charge as she bounced into the dance.

Elizabeth swayed a little, and a bored expression fixed itself more pronouncedly upon her adolescent face. I moved over to her, wanting to somehow save her from that look. I gave her a bow.

"Miss Swann."

"Lieutenant Norrington." She bobbed a graceful curtsy.

"And how are you enjoying the party, Miss Swann?" I asked, trying to think of something to amuse her. She replied with well-bred cordiality.

"It was a beautiful wedding. The dress came all the way from London. I have never been to London. Have you?"

"Yes. A few times. And should you like to go to London?"

"Yes." She stated matter-of-factly. "But I'd really love to go to India. I read a book about how the Maharajah has dozens of wives and rides about on an elephant all day. Have you ever seen an elephant, Lieutenant Norrington?"

Her eyes had lost their boring expression as she began to talk of travel. I found myself drawn by her fervent interest to be bold and more outspoken than I usually was.

"No, I have not. But since you love India so much, I shall have to take you there in my ship someday, and we shall ride on an elephant all day and have tea with the Maharaja."

"When you are captain?"

The tone of her voice made me wish I was a captain. Suddenly all of my achievements seemed insufficient, because in the eyes of this young girl I was nothing, I did not have a ship with which to take her away to all of the places she dreamed about.

She looked at me quizzically, almost critically. I looked back into those eyes, so calculating and knowing for one so young. Those eyes that always made me want to act so completely unlike myself, to be impetuous and indulge in her childish fantasies right along with her. There was something in her that filled a need I didn't know that I possessed, a comforting, happy feeling I felt warm me whenever I was near her.

"Lieutenant?"

Her voice broke into my thoughts, and I realized from her face that I had been staring at her. I quickly looked away and then, as if to cover up my indiscreet behavior, I bowed low and asked,

"Miss Swann, would you do me the honor of the next dance?"

She looked at me a moment, and then turning back to watch the dancers said, matter of factly,

"I don't think I like dancing."

I laughed in spite of myself.

"Come now, Miss Swann, all pretty girls love to dance."

"I don't know. Dancing master always comes to the house on Thursdays and I hate it."

She spoke very decidedly. Then she added.

"He treats me like a child."

As she said it, she seemed to stand a little taller, and her voice adopted a tone of haughtiness.

"Besides, I always have to dance with Meredith, and she can't keep time and is always stepping on my feet."

I grinned inwardly.

"Then you mean to say you've never danced with a boy before?"

"No."

She seemed almost wistful as she said it.

"Well then, Miss Swann, allow me to recommend myself to you as an excellent partner."

I bowed low again and offered her my hand. She hesitated for a moment and then smiled as she took it.

"I should be delighted, Lieutenant."

I felt giddy and delightfully foolish as I led her to the dance floor, careless of the impropriety of what I was doing, grinning like an idiot, and I admit, happy to not care. The music began, a bouncing, rollicking tune. I bowed to Elizabeth and then we were off into the dance, she giggling merrily and I laughing along. I couldn't remember the last time I had had such fun. I felt like a schoolboy again, as though when the dance ended I might step with Elizabeth into her rosy world of youth.

When that song ended, the music became slow. I looked at her flushed face questioningly and she nodded, panting happily, to say that we should dance another. As I led her through the dance, it was apparent that, despite her dislike of dancing lessons, she had learned how to dance superbly. Perhaps her step had more bounce in it than was fashionable, but she would grow out of that.

Halfway through the dance, I felt a hand tap me on the shoulder, and once I had completed the ladies' pass with the young lady next to me, I turned to look into the somewhat amused face of Governor Swann. When I looked back, Elizabeth had been pulled out of the dance by her governess, and was dutifully donning a silvery blue cape that matched her dress. I stepped out of the dance and joined the Governor.

"Well, James?"

It was a jovial reproach.

"I beg your pardon, sir. I was not thinking."

"Yes, I can see that."

Though scolding me, there was a gentle mocking in his voice.

"It won't happen again sir, I promise you."

He chuckled.

"James, it's not that I object to you dancing with my daughter. All of Port Royal knows you are an intimate friend of this family. But Elizabeth is not even out, she's hardly twelve."

"I'm very sorry sir. I did not mean to--"

The older man put up a hand to stop my apology.

"Apology accepted, Lieutenant."

He smiled, then sighed.

"She looks so like her mother tonight. Charlotte was a superb dancer."

He gave a small laugh.

"I remember the first time I got up the courage to ask her to dance. I was so nervous I stepped on Lady Carrigan's train and almost pulled it clean off."

We had a good laugh at that.

Norrington sighed sadly and rubbed his eyes. He missed that blithe young man who stood in the warm summer night of the Caribbean. He told himself he would meet the Governor soon. He was still deeply troubled when he thought about the man's death, or rather, murder. When Elizabeth lost her father, he had as good as lost his.

After the wedding I didn't see Elizabeth for some time. In an attempt to repair her reputation to some degree, her father kept her out of the public eye for a few weeks, and I felt I should stay away longer out of respect. The months passed and before I knew it the new year had come.

Then one morning in August, when the whole of Port Royal was cloaked in rain, I had a visit from Sergeant Petersen of the Royal Marines. He ducked under the doorway of my house, dripping rain and shivering. Over his mouth he clutched a wet handkerchief into which he coughed. He allowed my aide to remove his coat and hat, and when his face was revealed I was gripped with a terrible chilling dread.

"Sir."

He began gruffly, and coughed.

"Good God. It can't be?"

He shivered his assent.

"One of the ships from the Carolinas."

I walked to the window and stared out at the torrential rain. The raindrops pelted the water and made angry furrows on its surface. They reminded me of the red welts upon the face of the man who stood unsteadily behind me. The dismal rain seemed nothing to the horrors that lay ahead for Port Royal, and I suddenly wished I had visited Elizabeth and her father more often over the past months, gossip or no.

"Are you a religious man, Sergeant?"

"I reckon so, sir. I ain't no church-goer, but I believe in God if that's what you mean."

His voice was tired. He coughed. The rain drummed angrily on the roof.

"Then let us pray God will preserve us."

------------------------------------------------------------------