'Pirates of the Caribbean' belongs to Disney
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Jack and Lysander had a most happy-busy Christmas Eve.
Right after breakfast they took a lengthy excursion into Hyde Park. Snow had fallen the previous day, damp enough to pack into the most satisfactory kind of snowballs. In one of the wooded areas, the two engaged in a snowball fight that went on for nearly an hour. It was difficult, even for them, to tell who'd gotten in more hits- Sparrow had better aim but Lysee could throw 'em in faster succession.
After a chowdery lunch, the whole family went to Albert Hall to participate in the Messiah sing-along. Jack and Lysander had another contest, meant to determine which of them could sing the Hallelujah Chorus louder. The chagrined and amused parents proclaimed it a tie.
Dinner was at a midtown restaurant; stewed vegetables, roast beef, Yorkshire pudding and a sampler plate of chocolate treats. They'd taken a roundabout cab ride back, to get a gander at some of London's more impressive Christmas-light displays. Once home, everyone gathered around the tree to share a few seasonal readings. The day's final treat was eggnogs- Lysee's with just enough rum for flavor, Jack's with somewhat more.
Now, an hour short of midnight, they had both fallen asleep on either end of the parlor couch. Norrington grinned as he studied how they lay- curled like two cats, heads sharing the big middle cushion, copper and ebony braids mingling like dropped ribbons.
"I won't have any difficulty carrying Lysee to bed. Once she's out, nothing much short of a brass band will wake her. But hauling Sparrow up to the garret..."
Mare's maternal smile encompassed both sleepers. "Perhaps there's no need. He seems perfectly comfortable where he is."
"You're suggesting we let him spend the night here?"
"Unless you're afraid that'll interfere with Father Christmas' job." Mare had also partaken of the more-fortified eggnog; enough to put her in an endearingly silly mood.
James tilted his head. "I do have some concern. As I've seen for myself, even the vaguest sound of stealthy entrance can rouse Jack from deep sleep to full combat-readiness. He might attack before he realizes who the intruder is."
"Not to worry," Mare countered. "I have it on good authority that Mr. Claus is far more formidable than his appearance suggests."
"As is Sparrow."
"Then they'll probably block each other's lunges. And once they've recognized each other... Saint Nicholas is the patron saint of children and sailors, so they ought to get along fine."
"Perhaps too fine. Sparrow might start plying the gentleman with rum- he'll never get back to his rounds."
Mare could have been copying Jack's hand flutters. "I wouldn't worry about that, either. Father Christmas is an old pro at this game! I'm sure he can handle any misdirection Jack tries to dish out."
Her husband grimaced. "I'd like to believe that, but knowing what that rapscallion is capable of..."
"Jack or Santa?"
"You know, at times you can be nearly as nettlesome as Sparrow," Norrington grumbled.
"Just 'nearly'?"
"Believe me, that's saying something."
"Well, James, I seriously doubt it'll do any harm to leave Jack on this couch. Even if we accidentally wake him, he won't learn anything he doesn't already know," Mare pointed out.
"I wonder... All right, we can try. Why don't you start bringing down the presents while I put Lysee to bed."
As predicted, the girl slept soundly through the entire transfer and tucking-in. James took his time over the latter task. The child's facial resemblance to Esther was clearest when she was asleep. "Really just a hair's difference," he murmured, stroking one rubicund lock.
By the time he returned to the parlor, Mom had fetched a good number of wrapped boxes. She'd also seen to Jack's comfort, loosening his clothes and covering him with a soft blanket. She had even draped a clean hand towel over his eyes so he wouldn't be disturbed when the lights went off.
Working together, the couple soon had all the gifts downstairs and arranged beneath the tree. Finally they stepped back to view the results. The little fir was now standing in a patchwork quilt of shimmering wrapping papers.
James nodded with satisfaction. "It's perfect."
Meredith considered. "Very nearly." With a deft hand, she unhooked the shrunken head and moved it forward, to the front-center of the tree. "So she'll get a good view tomorrow," Mare explained, a tad extraneously. "Well. I guess we can now 'settle our brains for a long winter's nap.'"
"Let me check one last thing." Norrington moved to the parlor's gray-stone fireplace, stooping to peer up the dark chimney.
Mare arched an eyebrow. "Were you seriously expecting...?"
"Believe me, cinnabar, it wouldn't be the most unlikely thing I've ever seen." James straightened, unplugged the tree lights and switched off the overheads. Mare took his hand, bestowing a quick kiss. They both whispered their goodnights to Jack before vanishing upstairs.
Midnight arrived. Miles away, the resonant tones of Big Ben began to ring in Christmas Day. By some rare trick of the wind, the sound of those chimes carried all the way to the townhouse and into the parlor. Jack stirred, towel sliding from his forehead as his eyes opened halfway. His bleary gaze happened to fall straight on the relocated head.
Even in his twilight sleep, he felt a deep sense of comfort and joy. Gazing back at him was a vision from his earliest memories; a beautiful young face, dark-skinned with just a few care lines, framed by shimmering black hair. That delicate, invincible smile conveyed she still loved her brave little bird. As well as everyone else now within these walls.
The twelfth chime sounded, slowing fading to nothingness. As did the adoring continence. But the assurance lingered.
With a peaceful sigh, Jack sank back into holy darkness. And the most restful slumber he'd ever known.
xxx
TBC...