Authoress' Note: So follows the infamous scene from CotBP, possibly one of my most favourite in the entire movie trilogy. I can't help loving James' awkwardness and complete ignorance of Elizabeth's situation. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, by the way! I thank you especially for your feedback on the bit about "no hard feelings". Perhaps "no harm done" would've been more appropriate. I have no excuse for letting something like that slip. Keep your helpful comments coming!

A Circle of Steps

This morning feels quite akin to my 18th birthday slightly over two years ago now. My bedroom is stifling hot, and I throw the covers off of me in an attempt to become cooler. Rays of sunlight peek through the heavy curtains hanging in front of the two windows in the room, and I cannot seem to find the strength to get up and open them. There is something important happening today, and I cannot remember what it is for the life of me.

Squeezing my eyes shut I search back into my memory for some recollection of the importance of this day. A knock on the door shatters my thinking, and I launch myself from the bed searching for my favourite dressing gown that always seems to go missing. I kneel down on the floor and peer under the bed as the knocking becomes more insistent.

"Elizabeth? Are you alright?" Father calls.

Aha! I've found the missing dressing gown. Standing up, breathless, I pull it on just in time as Papa pushes on the door handle.

"I'm coming in. I hope you're decent."

"Yes, yes," I cry, tying the knot as quickly as I can and smoothing it down. "Really, Father, you must give me more warning."

"I think I gave you warning enough by rapping on the door for several minutes," he says stepping into the room. A servant girl who I do not recognise follows suit. "And you're still abed at this hour? You shall sleep away the day if you're not careful, my dear."

The young girl goes about opening the curtains one by one. I squint against the harsh sunlight as Father drones on, "It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

I nod, "Yes, quite beautiful. If only the sun weren't so bright it would be perfect."

Father chuckles to himself as he turns to greet Charlotte who has appeared in the doorway carrying a box.

"Ah, Charlotte, here you are," he says, gesturing for her to enter the room, "Elizabeth, I have a gift for you."

I take the box, already having some idea of what it is, though I am excited nonetheless. It has been quite some time since Papa has bought me anything. I pull the lid away and can't help gasping at seeing such a beautiful piece of work. It is another gown, just as I had expected, though this one is cut in a more modern fashion and includes an article of clothing that I have never seen before.

"Oh, it's beautiful!" I cry, holding it up and completely ignoring the other piece of clothing, which certainly isn't as pretty or stylish. Charlotte takes it up instead and follows me around the dressing screen.

"May I inquire as to the occasion?" I ask, poking my head out from behind the screen to look at my father.

He smiles at me dearly. "Does a father need an occasion to dote upon his daughter?"

I laugh as Charlotte sticks my arms through the new contraption of clothing that I have now discovered serves as some sort of undergarment.

"Actually, I, eh, had rather hoped that you would wear it for the ceremony today."

I peer around the screen again, puzzled. "The ceremony?"

"Captain Norrington's promotion ceremony."

He punctuates each word separately, one eyebrow raised, as though to chide me for not listening to him when he spoke of it many times before. Ducking back around the side of the screen, I groan inwardly. So this is the important occasion I failed to remember earlier. Feigning excitement and surprise I cry, "I knew it!"

Father gives a sound of approval at my enthusiasm. "Commodore Norrington, as he's about to become! He still fancies you, you know. Elizabeth? How's it coming?

I cannot ignore Father's blatant quip about James still loving me. As though I didn't know that already. How many times have I spurned his advances citing that I must have time to make my decision? It has been a while since he last spoke to me outright though, and I am grateful for that.

"It's difficult to say," I manage to get out as Charlotte pulls hard at the strings at my back. For a moment it feels as though she will break one of my ribs. I suck in some air in an attempt to alleviate the painful situation, and the torture contraption somehow manages to become even tighter.

"I'm told it's the latest fashion in London."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I put a hand to my chest as I struggle to gasp in enough air to speak.

"Well, women in London must've learned not to breathe."

---

It is unbearably hot, my mouth is dry, and I fear that if this corset (as I have learned it is called) is not cut from me soon I believe I shall faint dead away. The promotion ceremony of Commodore James Norrington could not have possibly gone on a moment longer. Though the sun continues to beat down from overhead, at least I am able to move about and feel any slight wind upon my face. Fanning myself, I mingle through the crowd making half-hearted attempts at conversation and wishing that I could be home in bed with a cool glass of water and Charlotte as my only companion.

"May I have a moment?"

I turn to face James Norrington, the last person on earth I would like to speak to, and wordlessly follow him to the platform of the parapet overlooking the sea. Fanning myself hastily, I lean against the stone structure to steady myself. After so much movement I am finding it hard to catch my breath.

James gazes at me for a moment, and I smile back weakly. "You look lovely, Elizabeth."

I fan myself harder, and smile awkwardly, trying to discern whether it is my imagination or if everything around me has actually taken on a certain blurred quality. All I can see clearly is James' face before my own as he speaks.

"I apologise if I seem forward, but I . . . must speak my mind," he continues, placing his hand on his new sword, "This promotion throws into sharp relief that which I have not yet achieved," he looks at me pointedly, and I blink as he slides in and out of focus, "A marriage to a fine woman. You have become a fine woman, Elizabeth."

Everything goes dark for a split second and then James' face swims back into view. He looks at me hopefully, encouragingly, as he gestures into the empty space beside him.

"I know I have no right to hope that your feelings have changed . . ." he says quietly, so that I can barely hear him over the crashing of waves and the rush of blood in my ears. A tingling begins in my fingers and toes, spreading quickly as I gasp for air.

"I can't breathe."

James chuckles lightly, "Yes I'm a bit nervous myself . . ."

I cannot think straight. I breathe in sharply and try to straighten my thoughts for a split second as James rambles onward incoherently. I hone in on one fact, that James Norrington has just asked me a question, and that I must answer. I speak the first word that comes to my mind.

"Yes."

Then all is darkness as I fall upon the parapet in a dead faint.

---

"Elizabeth. Elizabeth?"

Someone presses a cool cloth to my forehead, then lifts my head and pours water down my throat. I splutter as it rushes into my mouth and over mychin. I sit up abruptly, coughing hard. My head immediately splits into a pounding ache, and I rub at my temple to no avail. Charlotte appears before me, her round face kind and unconcerned.

"There now, lie back again, Miss. It'll do no good sitting up just yet."

She gently lowers my head back onto the raised pillow and presses the wet cloth to my cheeks and forehead again. I close my eyes and am somehow blissfully aware of the fact that I have been freed from the vile corset and its air depriving tendencies. I smile to myself at that thought, grateful for the ability to breath the abundance of air around me.

Charlotte bustles back over to me as I open my eyes again, pondering what occurred only hours earlier. I vaguely remember parts of it, but I feel as though I am trying to connect the dots between what I remember and what actually happened. A shadow passes over Charlotte's face as she looks down on me, and I grasp her hand in mine before she can move away again.

"What happened?" I ask, a knot of fear twisting itself in my stomach as I run my thumb over the lines etched into Charlotte's once smooth palm.

She sits down on the edge of my bed placing her free hand over mine and reaching up to stroke some stray hair away from my face as I sit up again, more cautious and this time. She looks down at our entwined hands, and then back up at me. Only then do I know that something horribly wrong has occurred.

"Charlotte what is it? Tell me!"

"Oh Elizabeth, I know how this will upset you, but . . . you accepted the Commodore's proposal today."

I can feel my mouth hanging open in utter shock, but I do not bother to close it. My heart feels as though it is beating in my throat, and quickly I swallow it down once more.

"I did what?"

Charlotte's brows are drawn together in concern, and she does not meet my eyes as she recounts the story of how upon the parapet I accepted the proposal of Commodore James Norrington. She even includes the fact that the news of the proposal spread faster than the news of my subsequent collapse.

"The Commodore carried you to his personal carriage, and he and the Governor made there way up to the house. They're waiting outside now, though I have assured them you will be fine."

"Dear God, what have I done?" I cry, sinking back down into the pillows and pulling the coverlet over my head. Tears spill down my cheeks, and I twist away from Charlotte's hand as she tries to pull the covers back down.

We struggle for a moment as my dearest friend attempts to wrestle them from my grasp while insisting that I shall surely suffocate.

"I don't care," I say harshly, and we fall still. I turn over on my side, facing the wall. "Tell them I'm resting. I don't want to see anyone."

The door opens and shuts loudly, and I am left alone.