The Mysteries of Courtship

Commodore Norrington was more than slightly confused. Partly, this was due to a severe concussion that, even after regaining his consciousness, tied him to bed for another two weeks. He wasn't accustomed to such leisure and read most of the books that Elisabeth and Miss Van Dyke brought him, smirking with Elizabeth for slipping in pirate stories every now and then. But the greater contribution to this general state of disorientation was owed to the strange behaviour of almost everybody around him.

With the exception of Robert Chandler, everyone seemed peculiarly altered. The situation in the fort was all haywire, as far as he could see, and James couldn't quite understand why. One officer was as good as another in this respect, he thought, and he had positively never regarded himself as anything like irreplaceable. Why three grown men, capable soldiers all of them, intelligent and dynamic – well, except Gillette, maybe – why these men couldn't sort out the most basic problems on their own… No, he didn't get it.

Then there were his hosts, the Van Dykes. Mr and Mrs Van Dyke had always been civil, but now they treated him with utmost, almost suspicious kindness. This wouldn't have come as a shock, but their daughter was indeed surprising. He had never really noticed her, although she had been Elizabeth's friend and they had often met. Miss Van Dyke was exceedingly attentive and friendly, she was a pleasant person to talk to, and he appreciated her tact and good manners. Everybody seemed to be acutely aware of her merits, and kept on praising her in the warmest tones. Her parents, Chandler, every single servant entering the Commodore's room – nobody would leave again without uttering at least some nice thing about Miss Van Dyke, to an extent that it bewildered the patient.

Everyone was full of praise for the young Miss, except for the other young Miss. Who, mind you, had been her best friend for many, many years. Indeed, Elizabeth reacted quite extraordinarily to her; she was cool, bristling even, and both he and Miss Van Dyke had clearly no idea as for why. As for Elizabeth – she was behaving as weird as – in fact, he failed a proper comparison for her behaviour. She was just everything she had never been, at least in his presence; she was caring – alarmingly caring sometimes, one day for example, she had actually advised him not to smile not to worsen his headaches – she was attentive, she was high-spirited and easy-going. If these were the effects of being engaged to the Turner boy, James should perhaps cease being unhappy about it. Perhaps.

She had asked him to call her by her first name, like he had used to do ever since she was twelve or so, and had seemed a bit upset when he had told her that he couldn't. He didn't defy her to cause her uneasiness, but he simply couldn't address her any other way than 'Miss Swann'. 'Elizabeth' – in his mind, he would never call her any other way, adorned with some attributes like 'dearest', 'loveliest' or 'incomparable'. But this was his own private secret, and in public, it would cause him to think of her as the one he had lost, which was too painful to keep his dignified pose. She was somebody else's 'Elizabeth' now, and he was determined to grieve in silence and on his own.

In the fort, there had been lots of changes as well, beginning with the new Head, famous Captain Filister. Perhaps it was because James Norrington had held this position for six years now and disliked to see somebody else in it, but he couldn't make up his mind to be truly endeared to that man. Or perhaps it was due to the fact that they were so thoroughly different in personality and humour, he couldn't say. However, Captain Filister had dutifully reported to Admiral Thompson, and this one was announced to arrive in a few days. Which meant trouble. James would have to explain how it was possible to lose two battleships in only four months, why Captain Sparrow had pulled his head out of the literal noose two times directly under the eyes of a whole Navy squad and himself, and finally, why said Captain Sparrow of all persons had been the one to ship James and the other survivors back home.

No matter how he looked at it, he knew it was hopeless, and he knew enough of Admiral Thompson to foresee the man's reaction. In a few days, James sensed, he would no longer be the Head of Port Royal's fort; his possible successors were either Filister himself, which was not too likely, as he was normally stationed in Nassau with his crew, or Lieutenant Gillette. That one would be made a Captain, which was enough to be Head of a fort of this size, and Commodore James Norrington, though outclassing him in rank, would be called to his service. As he hadn't committed a crime, they couldn't take away his Commodore honours, but he wasn't even sure how much he would have cared anyway. It all left him strangely unmoved. So he'd be a simple Captain again with an improper title, and although he should have minded strongly, he did not.

Another thing occupied him far more. He wanted to sail out and meet those vessels that had attacked them that night. No ship would ever have dared to have attacked the Dauntless in calm waters – they would have lost a battle anytime. As unusual as it might appear to Elizabeth and Miss Van Dyke, to whom he had talked about the matter – he mourned the loss of his ship far more than his soon degradation. Well, Chandler at least understood, apparently it needed a sailor to comprehend another sailor's love for his ship. To forever lose Elizabeth and the Dauntless in only three months – that was a real tragedy!

There was no way of getting either of these two back, but at least, he could avenge his ship, and he would! Two – three – ships sailing with Dutch flags and disguising themselves as merchants, firing at them in the middle of a hurricane… He couldn't put his finger on it, but there seemed to be more to it, and he needed to find this out. But for a start, he needed a new ship, and in this respect, it was excellent that Admiral Thompson was expected so soon. He would come with a small fleet; two substitutes for the Dauntless and the Interceptor, and one for Captain Filister. James asked himself whether he would be as fond of his new ship as he had been of the Dauntless – he had never cared too much for the Interceptor, she had been a good, fast ship, and he had been proud of it, but nothing more – but came to only one conclusion. Just like Elisabeth was incomparable and impossible to be replaced in his heart, it would surely be with the Dauntless as well.

"Oh, Commodore, I wouldn't fret if I was you." Captain Filister had chuckled loudly. "You'll soon have forgotten your Dauntless when you've set eyes on your new ship! Personally, I'm looking forward for my new one – the Fortuna has seen better days!"

James suppressed a frown, thinking that something must be wrong with a man who would so easily replace his first ship for another! James himself was convinced that no other ship, no matter how solid and useful, could ever come to replace the Dauntless, which had been his first own ship to command, in his heart.

Will Turner's sorrows came from another quarter. He hadn't lost a ship, he hadn't lost his fiancée – his only worry was how on earth he could be able to marry her as soon as possible. 'Soon' was an euphemistic word here – it would at least take half a decade, even if Elizabeth hadn't suddenly decided to find the Navy to be the worst of all possible professions. He hoped though that with Commodore Norrington's recovery, she would soften again. He could think of no other way to make his fortune, and the Navy promised to be quite rewarding. He was a very good sword fighter, he had no doubts that he'd be a good sailor as well, as the time with Jack aboard the Interceptor had proven.

Jack – wasn't it the strangest thing he had ever heard of, that Jack had found and saved the Commodore and his men on some minuscule island? Jack and Norrington? Luckily, the latter had been unconscious during the journey! Will couldn't imagine how these two would have gotten along otherwise! Jack was an odd fellow, unpredictable, coarse, and drunken most of the time. Everything that the Commodore was not, and must hate in another man. Jack on the other hand had always mocked Norrington, 'Holier than thou' he had taunted – and to steal the Commodore's gloried Interceptor in front of his nose he had found to be his personal masterpiece.

Elizabeth had been similarly amazed when she had heard about it for the first time, but by now, she claimed it to be the most natural thing in the world.

"Come on, Will – what else should he have done? Leave them to die? He owes it to the Commodore!"

"Your dear Commodore wanted to hang him, Elizabeth! Would have hanged him already if he had had the chance!"

She shook her head at him. "Yes of course he wanted to hang him. Jack is a pirate, James is a high-ranked officer! It's his job to capture pirates and hang them!"

"James?"

"Besides – he let him go, didn't he? Could there be possibly any other sailor in the entire Royal Navy who would have let him escape?"

"James?"

She stared at him; it took her a minute before she understood the question, and she started to laugh. "That's his name, you know?"

"You call him 'James'?"

"No, actually I don't. I used to call him like that, but that was – oh well!" She was angry with his intrigued look, and vaguely thought of her conversation with James two weeks ago. She had assured him that Will wouldn't mind if he addressed her by her first name, and was most astounded to see that she might have been mistaken there. Ridiculous!

"So how does he call you?" Will asked, sounding a little suspicious.

"Miss Swann, if you want to know!" she replied surly, recalling her upset about it, and venting all her anger on poor Will now, "That's an impertinent thing to ask me! And even if he said 'Elizabeth' – so what? He has known me since I was a child!"

"So did I, nevertheless I never said anything else but 'Miss Swann' –"

"That's not true for a start, and then you may have forgotten how strongly I disliked it!"

He looked like a beaten puppy again, and though usually, she found that very sweet, she was too angry still and would rather have scratched his beautiful brown eyes out than get lost in them. What exactly was he insinuating there? That he was jealous on that man that she had left for him? How silly could he be? And speaking of silly – with her praise of Jack Sparrow, he appeared to be discontent as well, making her gasp with indignation.

"I hate reminding you, Will," she snarled when the topic came up the next time. "But you seemed to have a high opinion of Jack as well – or why were you so eager to sabotage his execution?!"

"I am quite fond of Jack, but allow me to wonder how fond you are of him," he retorted, looking instantly shocked at his own verve to talk back to her in such a way.

Taking up the cue, Elizabeth narrowed her eyes to glower at him. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing, I –"

"He's saved my life, you know?! I am very fond of Jack, yes, and if even my father can live with that, you better accustom to it, too!"

He winced back and raised his hands almost defensively. "No, Elizabeth, you mistake me, I… Really, you misunderstood my meaning!"

She seized him up, still looking exasperated, but shrugged at last. "All right, then. Sorry."

"No, no, I am sorry!"

Just like Elizabeth Swann, Lieutenant Chandler maintained his habit to see his Commodore twice a day, bringing news, chatting about their mutual profession, news from the fort, and to James Norrington's astonishment, also about the lovely Miss Van Dyke.

"She is a worthy young lady, Sir," the young man said with emphasis.

"I do not doubt it, Robert."

His friend blushed somewhat and lowered his gaze. "You know – have you talked some more to her parents?"

"They're hosting me so very kindly; yes, of course, I have talked to them!"

"And didn't you – notice something?"

James frowned, not understanding a word of what Chandler tried to tell him. Obviously, he had something on his chest, but what should that be?

"Sir, I do not mean to impute – well – I've heard some things, and I wonder…"

"Speak as plainly as you always do, Robert, that's one of the things I appreciate most in you!"

"Oh well… As I've heard, Mr Van Dyke and his wife – they'd be very pleased if you – have you any intentions of proposing to Miss Van Dyke?"

The Commodore's jaw dropped and he gaped at his friend without any of his habitual dignity. "I beg your pardon?"

"Forgive me for intruding in your personal matters, Sir, I was just wondering. After all, she is a fair lady…"

James hadn't recovered from his shock when named fair lady knocked and walked in. He summoned his wits and smirked at her, but he was still utterly perplexed. The Lieutenant got up, equally embarrassed and claimed that he had to go.

"I shall accompany you, Sir." She smiled friendly, and in the next moment, they were both gone, and James was left alone to his confusion. Propose to Miss Van Dyke…? He hadn't thought of anything like that; as a matter of fact, he hadn't recovered from his last proposal and had no intention to make another!

Nevertheless, he gave it a thought or two. Frankly, he thought the greatest part of the evening about it – marry Miss Van Dyke? She was in every respect a very fine woman to be sure, but he needn't check his heart too long, he wasn't in love with her, not at all. He did love Elizabeth. But this was one was engaged to another man that she was madly in love with, so he ought to forget about her. Was it enough foundation for a marriage to like somebody? He had a high regard for the young Miss, so perhaps… Would his heart mend faster if he tried to bestow all those feelings that he had for Elizabeth to another woman? Was it better to base a marriage on regard and sense than on these excessively painful emotions that were tearing him apart now?

He remembered his parents – he did not think of them very often, he hadn't seen them for twelve years. His parents hadn't married for love either, no. They had married because it was a proper match, a smart match. Had they been happy? He found that he couldn't answer this. In any case, they hadn't been very tender and had never shown signs of greater affection, but this didn't necessarily mean that they had been unhappy, did it?

However, had anyone made the effort to ask the young lady what she thought of that? Her parents' wishes – oh well, had it been for Governor Swann's wishes only, he'd be James Norrington's father-in-law by now. He had the distinct impression that Miss Van Dyke had none of Elizabeth's feverish temper, and perhaps, she wouldn't oppose her parents. Besides, she had indeed shown great care for him…

He fell asleep over his contemplation, while in another bed in Port Royal somebody could find no sleep at all. As he wasn't used to such agitation, Lieutenant Chandler was pretty bewildered with himself, but his firmest resolutions could still not conquer his insomnia. A lot of things were gyring around in his mind. The impending inspection of Admiral Thompson, for example – just like the Commodore, Lieutenant Chandler wasn't fooled what this visit would bring. It infuriated him to think that his friend was to carry the can that little Miss Swann and her suitor had filled for him, that a buffoon like Gillette should be the Commodore's superior soon, if not in rank then at least in situation. Gillette was no patch on James Norrington, but without a doubt he would deceive himself in this respect, and Chandler couldn't imagine a worse Head for the fort than this man. His arrogance, his pride, his vanity – these were no traits enabling a man to make the right decisions, he lacked the Commodore's upright sense of justice and reason, and also his courage and fortitude of mind.

He did not blame the Commodore for anything, still it was almost unintelligible to him how James could ever have set his heart on such a silly little girl and accepted every possible consequence that had come with it. Well, almost. Robert Chandler was in his twenties, and his profession had never brought him near lovely young ladies, therefore he never had felt any sentiment comparable to the Commodore's delicate feelings for his former fiancée. Only recently, and under the most unpleasant circumstances, he had encountered a woman which had incensed his spirits. She was lovely, she was pretty and most amiable, intelligent and composed – shortly, she was high above himself. He was nothing but a poor farmer's son after all, Lieutenant or not, while Miss Henrietta Van Dyke was a rich gentleman's daughter.

Such a woman was far beyond his reach, and additionally, she was quite likely to be the future Mrs Commodore. It wasn't only her parents who favoured this match, she herself did so; in passing, Chandler had overheard some servants gossiping and saying as much. Of course she did; who but the Governor's ungrateful daughter could be oblivious of that gentleman's merits? And who, if not a lady of Miss Van Dyke's grace and temper, would be able to repair the Commodore's wounded heart, in the same way as she already cared for his physical injuries? It was only a matter of time until James Norrington would realise what treasure was bringing his breakfast each morning, it was impossible that he should miss it.

Lieutenant Chandler loved his friend very well, and even now, he felt no jealousy. The Commodore deserved a worthy woman more than anyone, and even if she had not loved him, she would still never fall for a man like the Lieutenant anyway. If the Commodore wanted her, his friend would not oppose, and he hoped that his satisfaction to see two so decent people united should defeat his own grief. He remembered with dry amusement his own words that he had once directed at his Captain to give this one some consolation – there were too many deserving young ladies in the world to wreck oneself because of one who did not return this admiration. He did not miss the irony, but was still convinced that he had spoken the truth. Just that some deserving lady was even more deserving than her fellows could ever be.