AN./ This chapter is a personal favorite of mine! Please sit back, relax, and enjoy some hard-earned fluff! Please R&R. Thanks!

Oh, and did I happen to mention that I bought a period-piece fan yesterday? I have an immense respect for the women who had to flick those dang things open in that ever-so-fancy way we see in these period-drama movies! I tried it for a whole hour and could not do it for the life of me! ROFL.

~ Silvertongued Dreams

Chapter Twenty-One: Like the Voices in the Wind

After saying our farewells, we departed from the Mr. Brown's smithy, and, once again thanked Will for his tour. With a smile on my face, I took Captain Norrington's offered arm, and we made for the carriage.

My lightheartedness somewhat dissipated, however, when I looked at James once again. Although he said nothing, I could tell that there was some internal struggling going on. He had taken his defeat rather badly.

As he assisted me into the carriage, I remained as silent as I possibly could. I did not wish to appear insensitive to him.

"There you are, Miss Perrin," he uttered with a forced smile as he helped me into the coach.

I hesitated. I so wanted to ask him what was going on, but was afraid of opening his old wound too far. "J—James?" I stammered—then, immediately realizing that I had addressed him by his first name, my cheeks turned bright red. "Oh, Captain Norrington, I am so sorry…."

"No, don't be," he smiled warmly. "I should like you to call me James. That is—that is, if I can call you Ariana," he added quickly.

Quickly, I pressed a hand over my racing heart. Oh, my goodness! He said my name… and so beautifully! Oh, dear Lord, I feel so faint!

Stunned, I tried to regain a normal breathing pattern. "But of course, Captain."

"James," he corrected with a small smile.

Within a few moments, he was sitting across from me in the carriage, and Gillette and his cousin, who had not managed to tear themselves away from the magnificent sword display in the smithy, did not seem as though they were going to be joining us anytime soon.

For a moment, there was only silence between myself and the good captain. Then, unexpectedly, he scoffed.

"What?" I asked, somewhat startled.

"Oh, it is nothing," he returned, crossing his legs as he leaned his head against the cushioned wall of the carriage: trying to hide a smile as he looked straight at me.

I knew he was looking at me, but I could not stand the thought of him knowing that, so I hung my head. Feeling bashful and rather fidgety all of a sudden, I flicked out my fan and fanned myself lightly. It was getting rather hot in here!

Well, it was hot as soon as James had entered the carriage. I smirked wickedly despite myself.

"So, Miss Perrin…."

"Ariana," I corrected with a slight blush.

He laughed softly, and nodding, began again: "So, Ariana… are you still curious as to why Mr. Turner and I do not get along?"

"There certainly was tension—if not animosity—between you both," I remarked softly. "I cannot help but admit to some curiosity."

Cautiously, James looked over at the smithy, and saw that Elanor and Gillette were still engaged in a lively conversation with Mr. Turner. With a somewhat heavy sigh, he looked towards me once again, and said: "Very well, then. I shall do my best to relieve your curiosity."

"Thank you," I replied in a whisper. I could sense that this would be a difficult—but much needed conversation for him. One look at him, and I knew that he had kept these feelings pent up inside for far too long. I could only hope that if he could talk to me, it could somewhat alleviate his pain.

"It all started some seven years back," James said. "I was a young lieutenant then—scarcely one-and-twenty. My father, Sir Lawrence Norrington, had always been a hard man… and as such, sent me away as a cabin boy in the King's Royal Navy when I was twelve. Ever since then, I had fought to survive—to rise quickly in the ranks, so as to make my father proud.

"When I was told that my post would be moved to the Dauntless, I was elated. That would finally be my chance to be something. It was a rather prestigious ship with a grand reputation, and I was honoured to be a part of this 'special voyage' I was selected for." Here, he swallowed.

"What was the voyage for?" I asked.

"It was a secret voyage from England to the Caribbean: our sole mission to deliver Port Royal's newly-appointed Governor Swann and his young daughter, Elizabeth—" His voice faltered a moment, and he had to clear his throat to alleviate his watering eyes: "—And his young daughter, Elizabeth, to their new home. Well, on the way, we ran into some difficulties.

"Just as we entered into Caribbean waters, we saw it. The burning hull of a devastated ship. One of the ship's crew—a man going by the name of Joshamee Gibbs—suggested that it had had been the work of pirates. At the time I dismissed it, but as I look back, now, I think he was right.

"Miss Elizabeth had been looking over the prow when, all of a sudden, we heard her cry out that she saw a boy in the water, floating on some of the wood from the wreckage. Immediately, we jumped into action: grappling hooks were lowered, and the boy was rescued. His name… was William Turner."

"Oh, good Lord!" I gasped. "So, you saved his life!"

"Yes, I did. But…."

"Yes?" I asked gently.

"Elizabeth and I… had grown rather close," he admitted. "Such a bright young woman. Talented, capable… and, although only ten years old at the time, I could see that, someday, she would make a very fine wife for someone, one day.

"Unfortunately, from that day on, Elizabeth became quite fond of Mr. Turner. As they were only a few years apart in age, they grew very close—and their relationship continued to blossom long after we had reached our destination. They would spend almost every waking hour together—and, oftentimes, Miss Swann would forget that I was to come calling, and would miss my visits entirely.

"About two years ago, the Governor sent her off to a boarding school in London, hoping that she would forget about Mr. Turner all together, and would learn how to be a 'proper' young lady. I wished for her not to feel alone, so, like a good friend, I wrote to her at least once a week, telling her that I was there for her if ever she needed to share her thoughts or experiences at school. Everything was fine for the first few weeks… and, then… the letters just stopped coming. I assumed that she must be busy with her studies, and while a bit wounded at the neglect of my friend, the Governor let slip that she had been writing to him, and… that… blacksmith."

"I can't imagine how betrayed you must have felt," I put forth sympathetically.

"Yes, well—" James halted, forcing a smile for my benefit. "It cannot be helped, I suppose."

"Have you tried to write to her recently?" I asked.

"I—no, I can't say that I have," Norrington admitted after a moment. "Things… would be rather awkward, after so long a time…."

"If you two truly are friends, my good captain, then nothing can ever remain awkward. There might be rough patches, but things can always be mended. Always."

Norrington smiled at me warmly… and for a moment, I thought that something delightful might—just possibly—happen….

… But, then we heard Elanor's voice coming closer.

"Oh, come along, Gilly!" she called to her cousin.

"God! You know how much I hate it when you call me that!" Gillette whined: not liking it when his elegant and worthy last name was abbreviated to sound like nothing more than common girl's name.

"Ah, but it gets your attention, doesn't it?(!)" Elanor returned with a victorious smirk as she watched her cousin cower under her playful stare.

"I—I guess you've got a point there," he shrugged, laughing lightly as they entered into the carriage.

Neither Miss Westfall or Gillette paid us much heed as they filed into the carriage. I think Gillette might have said something to me in passing, but I could not really tell. I was so moved by what James had shared with me… that I could not really concentrate on anything going on around me. I could not draw my gaze away from James's face—that kind, handsome, heroic face: the face that had changed my life in so many remarkable ways, already.

The ride back to Lord Beckett's mansion seemed long, dismal, and dull. After all of the exploring we had done, Elanor and Phillip had fallen asleep. But not James. James, no—he was too deep in thought: staring morosely out of the carriage window. Would he look at me?

I sighed heavily as I settled back in my seat: closing my eyes. And it was then, when he thought I wouldn't hear him, that I heard it.

"Thank you, Ariana," James whispered softly.

Contented, I smiled gently as the unchanging rhythm of the moving carriage lulled me into a restful sleep. For so long, James had kept his feelings bottled up inside—and now, he had had some sort of release from all of the pain he had locked away from everyone. And, for the first time in years, he had finally opened himself up to someone.

I purred lightly as I reclined against the carriage wall. Just like the voices in the wind, James Norrington was a mystery. A mystery… that I was certain… could be unraveled.

So, what did you think? I particularly loved this chapter—things are finally moving forward! Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did!