A Happy Ending

Oh happiness! our being's end and aim!
Good, Pleasure, Ease, Content! whate'er thy name;
That something still which prompts th' eternal sigh,
For which we bear to live, or dare to die.

ALEXANDER POPE

That last week in December saw an uncommon amount of happiness all around. The denizens of Port Royal had the pleasant task to prepare a grand, a very grand wedding, which meant plentiful earnings for all kinds of craftsmen and grocers, and cheerful children looking forward to lots and lots of cake.

At first though the public astonishment couldn't have been greater with the mere announcement – there hadn't been a child not knowing that the Governor's daughter had broken off their engagement last summer for the sake of Mr. Brown's apprentice. The usual gossip mills had made the best of it and were even more eager to continue spinning the tale now.

Some said young Mr. Turner had got fed up with his bride's extravagances, so in order to avoid scandal she had been obliged to humbly slink back to her former fiancé. Others claimed as certain knowledge that the Governor had forced his daughter to accept the Commodore after all by threatening to disinherit her. Then there was the party of Mr. Fielding, the haberdasher with the panoramic view, asserting that the two young people had simply succumbed to bouts of passion, and a few very fanciful souls imagined that the whole engagement to Mr. Turner had been nothing but a cunning ploy because the Commodore must have suspected his deputy Captain Stansfield all along and wished to keep his beloved safe from harm by pretending he no longer cared about her.

The other announcement of a betrothal having taken place didn't cause quite the same stir; its protagonists weren't as exposed public figures as the head of the fort and the Governor's daughter, so they didn't incite the same amount of tittle-tattle. Among their own friends however, both received as many mocking remarks as heartfelt congratulations. Being his outspoken self, Lieutenant Groves had more than once mentioned among his fellow soldiers his avowed wish that the Commodore should woo the merchant's lovely daughter and Miss van Dyke had never made a secret out of her disinclination to marry a seafaring man.

Marleen van Dyke was ready to also eat every word she had ever uttered upon the advisability of a lack of emotion when entering conjugal life because she could not possibly have been more attached to her suitor whom she regarded to be the epitome of manly virtues such as courage, loyalty, modesty and sense. Even though he wasn't rich – yet! – not even her parents had any objections; they were too glad to see their daughter as happy as she was, and rich enough to bestow her with a dowry that would enable her to miss no comfort even if (unlikely as this was) the young man never earned another pound.

Then there was Governor Swann, who had almost given up hope to see his daughter thoroughly happy and content, and who had the additional comfort in having her stay close-by and not, as she had so recently announced, going back to England instead.

He hardly recognised his child. She might be romping around the gardens with no thought of impressionable servants accidentally spotting her kissing her fiancé, but otherwise her public demeanour left nothing to be desired anymore. The bride of Commodore Norrington was propriety itself all of a sudden, choosing her words with care, doing charitable work in the hospital and elsewhere, and overall giving the impression that she was nothing if not modest, demure and circumspect. What his upbringing and a string of increasingly desperate governesses had never managed, her lover had accomplished without so much as trying, by instilling in her an earnest admiration and desire to live up to his good opinion of her.

Even Captain Jack Sparrow – note the title – was smugly happy, for once because won his ten pounds back, but even more because he was the kind of man who enjoyed to say 'I told you so'.

There was but one poor soul that couldn't share any such happy feeling, which was of course Will Turner's. His love for the lady had been as ardent and deep as the Commodore's; he was too passionate and too young to possess that one's countenance when facing the same heart-break, but at least the same youth made it likely that he would in time get over such loss.

He didn't have to endure witnessing his beloved's supreme happiness, as he left town only two days later on board of a merchant vessel taking him to Nassau, where he met and signed on the Black Pearl, but to make it short – he was to find true love some years later in a sailor's daughter, who let him forget the woes of a broken heart, and until that, he was rather busy to handle his captain's drunken brilliance that bordered on sheer madness so often.

Reverend Martin joined the Commodore's and Miss Elizabeth Swann's hands on the scheduled day, making her Mrs. James Norrington and him the happiest man in the world. Whatever the public verdict might initially have been, as soon as spotting the happy couple before the altar there was no doubt left for even the most suspicious observers that theirs was a marriage for love.

The focus instantly shifted to the question how much the spectacular bride gown (which was a stunning affair of silk and delicate lace and approximately ten petticoats) must have cost and whether it had been fabricated in Paris or in London. After this had been settled (with a majority patriotically putting their shirts on London), it was estimated how much money would be among those two and what the odds were regarding the Commodore's chances to inherit his father's title. Since everybody already knew about the rings (two plain golden bands inscribed 'Ruth 1:16-17'*) because they had been crafted by the local goldsmith, some very keen gamblers tried betting on the wedding menu, but all bets had to be called off as Mrs. Peacock freely told anybody who would listen what she had planned anyway.

The Reverend couldn't bridle himself not to put some special emphasis on the steadiness which conjugal life necessarily required, making the groom smile, the father of the bride turn crimson under his powdered wig, and the greatest part of the congregation snigger. Only the bride completely missed the joke, anxiously waiting for the moment to say 'I do' and scared to miss it. As always resolved to listen attentively to the priest, and as always failing, she had spent most of the ceremony so far with silent prayers and holy oaths, pledging to show herself worthy of such mercy as had been bestowed on her in spite of all her faults, and to better herself and follow her husband's example.

Beside her, the groom had some difficulties of his own. As long as he could think back, he had always been able to rely on his perfect countenance, and never felt the urge to cry (neither for Lord Alfred's son nor for a soldier, tears would have been in any way acceptable). In this moment, however, it was all he could do not to burst into tears, so deeply was he affected by the time-honoured ceremony, so moved by the occasion as such, so stirred by the contemplation of its consequence. Every now and then he stole a glance of his bride under her veil, and was almost glad that he couldn't quite see her through it, for the sight of that beloved face in this moment would surely have overwhelmed him after all.

And then came the great, long-awaited moment to speak at last, and put on the rings. Ready to sink with agitation and taking a deep breath, he pulled back the veil and found her beaming at him beatifically. Her big hazel eyes locked with his, making him forget anything else. He nearly missed his cue for saying 'I will' even, with only his preposterously long name giving him a chance to wake up in time.

"James Alfred Enoch Augustus William Charles Edmund Makepeace Norrington, will you take Elizabeth to be your wife? Will you love her, comfort her, honour and protect her, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to her as long as you both shall live?"

"I will" he managed to croak and cleared his throat, repeating, "I will."

"Mary Elizabeth Charlotte Swann, will you take James to be your husband?"

"I will!" she ejaculated prematurely, reaping another round of laughs which drove the colour to her cheeks.

The priest, too, stifled a grin and went on, "Will you love him, comfort him, honour and protect him, and, forsaking all others, be faithful to him as long as you both shall live?"

Clearly wondering whether she was allowed to speak up now and swaying dangerously, she whispered, "I will."

James, without consciously registering, reached out and snatched her hands to support her as much as steady himself, so hypnotised by her eloquent gaze that he scarcely noticed the congregation breaking into another song.

"James and Elizabeth, I now invite you to join hands – ah, I see you're ahead of me there –" This got a couple of loud chortles from the back rows, but unperturbedly, the Reverend went on, "and make your vows, in the presence of God and his people."

The bridegroom inhaled deeply and squeezed her hands. Oh Lord, if only he would remember all the words!

"I, James, take you, Elizabeth, to be my wife, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law. In the presence of God I make this vow."

She gave him an incomparable smile before commencing, "I, Elizabeth, take you, James, to be my beloved husband, to have and to hold from this moment forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part; according to God's holy law." She swiftly cast her eyes to the cross and went on, "In the presence of God I make this vow."

A pause followed at this juncture as Reverend Martin had to cough and gesture a good deal before he could catch the attention of the little boy in charge of the cushion with the rings (fortunately the slowcoach happened to be the vicar's own grandson, or the child might have been disqualified from the job in the future).

"Heavenly Father, by your blessing let these rings be to James and Elizabeth a symbol of unending love and faithfulness, to remind them of the vow and covenant which they have made this day through Jesus Christ our Lord."

James tremblingly took the smaller ring and placed it on his bride's equally shaking finger. "Elizabeth, I give you this ring as a sign of our marriage. With my body I honour you, all that I am I give to you, and all that I have I share with you, within the love of God, Father, Son and Holy Spirit."

She did the same and spoke the same vow so quietly that scarcely anybody but James and the smiling priest could hear her.

"Those whom God has joined together let no one put asunder," Reverend Martin intoned solemnly, and to herself Elizabeth thought, 'Let them try, I'll scratch their eyes out!'

The Anglican Church of England didn't usually intend for the newly-wed couple to kiss; but in a place like Port Royal, intersection of so many influences from so many cultures and thousands of miles away from Canterbury, the textbook of prayers wasn't taken quite as strictly as elsewhere. Everybody took delight in seeing the bride people kiss, most of all the Reverend, so now he prompted with some satisfaction, "You may now kiss the bride!"

And that was what James did; with their eyes fixed and their hands entwined, he bowed down to kiss his beloved Elizabeth. When his lips touched hers, she closed her eyes and devoted herself to him and his kisses completely. He luckily still possessed enough presence of mind to part again after some seconds, for had it been only up to her, they would have stayed like that for the next hours to come. Slightly guilty, she turned her gaze to the ceiling and promised the Lord once more that she'd be a good girl from now on and that nothing but propriety should guide her.

"Blessed are you, O Lord our God, for you have created joy and gladness, pleasure and delight, love, peace and fellowship. Pour out the abundance of your blessing upon James and Elizabeth in their new life together, let their love for each other be a seal upon their hearts and a crown upon their heads. Bless them in their work and in their companionship; awake and asleep, in joy and in sorrow, in life and in death."

"I love you," James mouthed, taking delight in the blushes he could incite by such a plain statement of facts.

"And I love you," she said under her breath, squeezing his hand which she still clang to even harder.

What else can be said about the day of their wedding? First came the reception, next came the feast, both taking place in the Governor's house. These were followed by the only thing that Governor Swann's otherwise so gratified frame of mind couldn't thoroughly rejoice in – to part with his dear child, as she mounted the carriage together with her husband to set off for her new home.

Within the walls of the fortress there was a separate domicil built for the head of the fort, which had been vacant for many years because as a bachelor the Commodore had regarded it a matter of course to share the officers' quarters. The little house had been renovated and richly furnished half a year ago due to his first engagement; it had only taken some dust-wiping to get it ready, as he had never bothered to undo the former preparations, thinking that he could just as well leave them in place for one of his future successors more blessed in matters of the heart than he had been at the time.

He guided her around her new home and asked a little nervously, "So, Mrs. Norrington, how do you like it?"

"Say that again!"

He knew very well what she wanted to hear, but was determined to tease her. "Well, how do you like it?"

"No, the other bit!"

"Tell me how you like it and you shall hear me say it as often as you please, my dearest Elizabeth."

"I like it excessively much! What good taste you've got! I had been ready to make do with Spartan quarters and berths instead of beds. Now say it, please!"

"Berths instead of beds?" He grinned at her and received a little push for his impertinence. "Very well, Mrs. Norrington, you shall have your will. I am, as always, at your command."

She bit her lip in delight. "Say it again!"

"Please, Mrs. Norrington, give me any order you like and I shall not rest until I have satisfied it."

"Once more!"

He chuckled. "Mrs. Norrington, I am very pleased that you relish your new name so much."

"I love it, it has such a fabulous ring to it!"

"I will forward your compliments in my next letter to my father, Mrs. Norrington. Now be very honest with me – is there even the slightest chance that I should be allowed to call you Elizabeth again in the foreseeable future? Because it is a name I am particularly fond of."

"And that coming from one who insisted on calling me Miss Swann instead only to annoy me!"

"But only to your face and most assuredly not to annoy you. In my mind and in my heart you have never been anything but 'my mostly beloved Elizabeth'. I simply couldn't trust myself to say it out loud for fear of letting show how ardently I love you."

She jumped at him for that confession and kissed him with all the passion unfit for public display. He lifted her off her feet and whirled her around, their lips never parting, until they both toppled against a very inconveniently placed table and caught their breath, laughing.

"So, what are your wishes now, Mrs. Norrington?"

The question had been innocently meant, but seeing her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink, he realised that she hadn't taken it that way. It wasn't as if he wasn't just as nervy as his thirteen years younger wife about what was to come, but he realised it was up to him this way or that.

Summoning all his courage, he put on an impish expression and asked, "You haven't seen the attics yet, and I still owe you proof that I haven't made you mistress of a house having berths for beds –"

She cast down her eyes for feeling so wickedly wanton when answering, "I think a survey of the attics would require better light, don't you?"

"You are of course absolutely right, Mrs. Norrington, as always." He pulled her towards him and made her settle her arms around his neck, kissed the tip of her nose and scooped her up. "So please allow me to show you the rest of the house, then."

Trembling, she buried her face in the arch between his neck and shoulder as he slowly and carefully carried her up to the first floor.

Both the Commodore and his wife held their privacy sacred, so no further account of their wedding night shall be given at this point (for the particularly nosy, however, the annex will have some more to say on that head). Only so much – bride and bridegroom found the beds very suitable, the former permitted the latter to call her Elizabeth without any more ado and was enraptured to see him without uniform, and not even the Commodore's meticulous sense of duty could have tempted him to leave the bedroom again within the next couple of days.

Lieutenant Groves represented him with the usual excellence; he himself was allowed to see his fair bride before the altar around Easter just when Admiral Thompson had promoted him to become Captain. The two young couples remained as attached to each other as their old friendships had warranted, Governor Swann lived long enough to see his three grandchildren James, Mary and Elizabeth be born and grow up, before he deceased at the admirable age of seventy-eight years.

Commodore Norrington became Rear Admiral Norrington only two, Vice Admiral Norrington four and Admiral Norrington seven years later before he retired at forty-four. The whole family returned to England then, where the children were to attend school, and their parents gladly exchanged the tropical sun for the Southern English gentle drizzle.

They were followed by the Groveses five years later, who had four children on total and to their mother's delight daughters only, who had learnt to accept her husband going to sea, but who could never have tolerated one of her own children facing the perils of a Navy career.

Only one thing remains to be said, and this concerns the tempers of the two protagonists. Under his wife's influence, James Norrington gradually thawed to become a man not only praised for his brilliance and conduct, but also his warmth and humour. And Elizabeth, although she often violated her home-made oaths, reforming and resetting them on a regular basis, grew up to be a perfectly affable woman, a caring and responsible mother, a devoted wife, a true role-model for the townspeople as she continued to work in the hospital and altogether tried to be as helpful and conscientious as she could, leaving nothing to be desired for even such a sharp observer as Captain Groves, while staying as lively as she had ever been.

As happy endings go, this particular one couldn't be more boring, but also less common, for who can claim for themselves to have led a life of decency, virtue, utter domestic felicity and every other happy circumstance?

THE END

* And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God: Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the Lord do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.

Author's note: giving the lie to my own claim "The End", I should mention that there will be one more chapter, the already announced "Annex", detailing the happy couple's wedding night, which didn't seem to fit into the general tone of the story.

And having said that, I would also like to seize the opportunity and send some very happy greetings to everyone reading this. I am so taken by this statistics-by-country function, informing me that there are a handful of readers from such far-flung places like Peru, Pakistan and Iceland - hello there! I am so happy you should have stumbled over this story and hope you like it.