Sorry for the delay with this chapter! Writers block on future ones forced me to hold off on posting a little. Thanks as ever for the reviews from the guests, and Icar372; interesting thoughts on Patrick but we'll have to wait and see how far he will be prepared to go! As for will Turner, I'm not decided on where he's going yet; you're right in that although for the most part he's a good person, I think he'd be prepared to do anything if what he wants is at stake. I'm glad you liked the insert of Ambrose who I suddenly felt was needed as I wrote that last chapter. I feel like he may crop up in future as I like him so much! Loving your notes on all of the chapters as always!

I have started loosely planning out a sequel/second part to this story but I'm not quite sure what form it will take yet. I'm undecided as to whether I should carry on under this same story as it would all still fit under the title or to start a new one altogether. I'd be glad to hear anyone's thoughts on that!

I feel like the chapters that are mainly dialogue between James and Fiona are easiest for me to write and are the ones I always end up liking best! In this chapter, Fiona reveals a little more about herself to James, but how will he react?

Chapter Thirty Six - A Notion of Certainty

Hands grabbed at me in my sleep, scratching the skin of my neck and chest as they held me down, so much so that when I finally woke I could not move at all. I lay in silence staring up at the low wooden panelled ceiling and tried to calm my racing heart as I recalled where I was. Most of the candles must have burnt down as the room was lit only by a gentle amber glow and it was still very early in the morning as no light seemed to permeate through the window. The scratching of quill upon parchment drew my attention inwards towards the rest of the cabin and I rolled onto my side soundlessly. James appeared not to have noticed that I had woken and I was glad of that. It afforded me the chance to process my thoughts without any intrusion and to observe him from afar. He'd vacated his desk and had moved to the dinning table where he had lain all of his work out before him, facing away from me. He'd also divested of his wig and waistcoat since I'd fallen asleep and sat in only his breeches and shirt. He'd rolled the soft linen sleeves up to reveal paler wrists that never caught the sun. I traced the outline of his strong shoulders beneath his shirt, imagining my hands exploring the plains of his back.

I shook my head lightly to dispel the image after a second or two and rolled onto my back again. After everything that had passed the day before, I did not need to complicate matters. James had saved my life yet again and I did his decency little justice by having such salacious thoughts. I forced my mind back onto the topic of what was to become of me. If I was lucky enough to be shielded by James's careful twisting of the truth concerning Townshend, I'd be back at the beginning again. I'd be in search of a ship and a crew I could trust. This time though, I did not have Patrick O'Malley to rely upon. I'd been a fool to think of taking up with him really. He had proved himself to be the scoundrel that Mick had always thought him to be. Although I'd seen glimmers of the Patrick that had lured me in at sixteen during those moments down in the brig, I was suddenly coming to realise that it was not Patrick who had changed or grown any more callous. I was simply wiser to all of his flirtations. I had more of an understanding of what each of his actions meant. I knew when his words meant there was more that he wasn't saying. I'd grown wise to him, finally.

There was this sort of hollow sensation within my chest as James's quill continued to scratch over parchment. If I thought I'd been lost before when I'd been grieving for Mick, then it was really nothing compared to how I felt then. The problem was that I had all of these notions of what I wanted my life to be like. I was still coming to terms with the new emotions I'd been bombarded with since meeting James and it still confused me that when I examined my heart; somehow he was already there. In some way he could give me more than Mick ever could have done. I might have loved Mick but that was purely platonic. Even though I knew there was no hope I was foolish enough to consider what kind of life I'd have at James's side. I should have known better. Life is so unpredictable at the best of times that I really had no place imagining us together.

I rolled onto my back again and tried to calm my racing heart. I knew that I needed recover my equilibrium because I wasn't about to let James see me as some quivering wreck who couldn't control her emotions. He only appeared to notice that I was awake when I eventually sat up and adjusted my skirt beneath the coverlet so that I could swing my feet down to the floor. Without even putting weight upon my knee I could feel the strain there. For a few seconds I contemplated whether walking was indeed wise before I shook myself out of such a notion. James likely already thought many things of me but I was sure as hell not going to have him think I could not walk from one side of the room to the other.

I braced my hands against the wooden frame of the bunk and tried to force most of my weight onto my good leg as I slowly rose. I couldn't help the hiss of pain that escaped my mouth as I straightened my back. I dreaded to think how bruised and damaged my knee would appear in daylight and so I forwent the temptation to look. James turned slowly towards me then, finally aware that I was awake. That curious look was enough to dispel the thoughts of pain from my mind for a few seconds as I took in his shadowed features that were accentuated by the candlelight. He'd evidently not slept at all, and had spent rather a stressful night pouring over the paperwork before him on the table. he'd been running his hands through his hair because many of the strands had come loose from the ribbon that held them to fall about his face and frame it. I'd never seen him looking so dishevelled and human before. There was a part of me that liked it. I was assured that like me, he too had flaws. He was not always so carefully groomed and foreboding. There was a part of me though that longed for the James that presented himself to the main deck every day with a starched collar with his perfect waistcoat and great coat trimmed in gold thread and buttons. The wig and hat made him more foreboding certainly, but was that not the man I'd fallen for? It was his rigid and unwavering perseverance in all matters and the undefinable respect he had shown me that I'd come to treasure. He was of course a product of his upbringing, both at home and in the navy. I knew that not all navy men could boast of such an honourable character so evidently his home schooling had been exemplary and his parents had done a wonderful job as before me sat one of the best men I had ever met.

I heaved in a breath and forced myself to think of my painful knee again before I did something rather foolish. I began to move at a slow pace, my knee locking each time I stretched my leg. James said nothing, instead consenting to wait until I'd reached the table at my own pace. If he thought of offering help I think my determined expression would have told him to think better of doing any such thing. He likely knew I'd have snapped at him in reply. I reached the table at last, letting my hands fall to he back of a chair to hold my weight. There was something that told me not to sit, for once I did take a place a the table beside James there would certainly be no going back. As if I was fool enough to think that I was able to keep my feelings intact, to recover parts of them in time. I was as in love with him then as I am now. I was in far deeper than I'd ever realised and whether standing or sitting, he was still watching me with a concern that made something inside my chest flutter involuntarily.

I tore my gaze from him and to the table where the ship's log was lying open, the ink of a new and lengthy entry that took up one whole page on the left side still drying. Other scraps of parchment littered the table before us so much so that for a few seconds I did not notice a second entry on the opposite page. Looped and flowing, the handwriting there amassed to only one sentence on an otherwise blank page.

Miss Fiona O'Connell acquiesces to sail aboard The Surgence once again.

I knew instantly that he'd made no mention of my name in his account of what had occurred the evening before and I was grateful for it even if I did not know how wise a thing it was. "Are you sure you want to do that?" I asked softly, trying to skim over the cracks in my voice that expressed the overwhelming tiredness I still felt deep within my bones. "It's asking rather a lot of you when someone could easily come forward in the future to refute such an account."

James shook his head stiffly as his eyes caught mine. His gaze was so intense that I faltered a little, shifting away from him slightly under the pretence of looking at the other pieces of parchment. "You did not ask me to," he replied after a few seconds. "There will be no other witnesses as I confirmed last night. If there ever were, they would surely not stand to oppose a Commodore of the King's navy. They would have to be a fool to make such an attempt."

My mind flitted briefly to Jack Sparrow. "There are a lot of fools in this world Commodore. Sometimes I think I'm one of them." My mind was made up I think before he had spoken,but I finally sighed heavily and pulled out a chair. I was always going to take that seat because James was all that I had left in the world to cling on to. It was a dangerous and foolish game I considered playing but play it I would. "May I?" I pointed towards a blank piece of parchment that lay on the other side of the table and James reached for it swiftly. He slid it across the table until it was before me as I pulled the chair closer to the table again and sat. James moved his lone candle towards me as I reached for the quill resting in the ink pot and began to sketch.

I felt his eyes on the side of my face for a few moments as the quill traced backwards and forwards across the parchment and I wanted nothing more than to shake myself free of such intense scrutiny. It was almost as if his gaze was searing my skin from the inside out. I ignored James as best I could as I tried to sketch from memory the map that had lain on the table in Townshend's cabin the evening before. I'd glimpsed it for mere seconds but it was a vision ingrained upon my mind. I knew the original was likely at the bottom of the sea now, and if it wasn't then it was most certainly covered in it's owner's blood. I could readily imagine that all of the men who'd crossed that cabin after Townshend's death had entirely discounted it as something perishable. I was not so foolish. I know I've told you how connected I feel to maps and charts so I don't need to really explain how I felt there was something of importance there to be found in the ragged coastline I was sketching. I counted myself as lucky to have seen most of the map, with only the one corner of it being slightly crumpled and obscured from my view.

I knew when James finally turned his attention towards my hand and the quill I held for I heard his sharp intake of breath. He was silent for a few seconds more as he continued to watch what I sketched. "You really do have a skill with charts," he declared softly as I sensed him moving closer. His shoulder brushed mine as he turned so that he faced my side and not the table, edging towards me so that he cold get a closer look at the parchment. Did I wish he moved closer under such a pretence when really he simply wanted to be near me? I don't think so. I actually found his proximity to me in those moments quite off-putting. It almost made me dizzy. There was such a heady mix of him around me that I suddenly remembered I still wore his coat. I think we all know I had little intention of taking it off though. I hesitated a little as I felt a rush of his breath ghost across my cheek before he moved back into his chair a little. I stole a glance up at him and knew instantly that he'd not realised what he'd done. If it had been deliberate, I think things might have changed for us a little more rapidly. As it was, I put the thought from my mind and continued sketching. James said no more and seemed content to watch me until I finally replaced the quill to the ink pot and sat back in the chair.

"This was in Townshend's cabin," I supplied quietly. "It was on the table when...Well I think he was hoping I'd tell him where this map might lead him. I don't know of course. I've not seen a map like it before. The coastline is not one that's recognisable to me."

"Nor I," James replied quickly but it was an automatic reply. I knew he was not thinking of what my sketch detailed but the act of my sketching itself. "Forgive me Miss, but where did you learn to do that?"

I shook my head softly as I let myself look at him again. I was safe, for he was staring down at my sketch in apparent amazement. "I didn't learn so much as hone what I knew I could already do. Mick helped me. Why on earth do you think he kept me on? I might have gotten myself out of a scrape or two but I was no sailor when I first met Mick. He thought what I could do was important though, so he promised to help me. those first few months, perhaps even the first year with Mick was the most liberating of my life. I was expected to work hard though and I did. It kept my mind off other things. By the time I'd finally grown accustomed to my new way of life and could be left to my own devices, I stuck my head above the parapet and realised that all of those worries I'd not had time to dwell upon did not really matter so much. Mick gave me back my freedom."

James finally turned back to me, astonishment written all over his face. He tried to hide it as his eyes caught mine, but I could tell he was surprised. I often forget how people react to what I can do because It's not something I regularly disclose. "You drew this purely from memory?" he pressed unabashedly.

I nodded slowly, trying to gauge how much I should tell him. There was the nagging doubt in my mind that he might not believe me, but I told myself that we were both a little beyond that point. We'd both placed an immeasurable amount of trust in one another and that moment was not the time to forget all of what we had seen. Not to mention the fact I'd slept in his bed the evening before whilst he was only a few feet away. There was no more time for doubt between us both. "It's like a painting in my mind. I can still recall it very clearly. It's something I've always been able to do." I jerked my head backwards, motioning towards James's desk without looking at it. "Your desk for example. I can tell you where everything is placed right now without looking turning around. Some things have moved since the first time I ever came to this cabin of course. I can also tell you where everything was that night. I won't though. Mick found that annoying sometimes. I was never showing off but I couldn't help it if he lost something and I knew where I'd seen it last. I was only trying to help out..." I faltered a little as I tried to decide whether to take the conversation to a darker place or not. I no more wanted to bring up the evening before than it appeared James did, but I knew we needed to discuss certain matters. There were things I was going to have to tell him if I wanted our trust to continue. "Townshend knew what I could do. That's why he was after me. Who knows who else he might have told."

My shrug was met with a thoughtful gaze from James. "Townshend was no fool. If he knew of such a thing he'd want to keep it to himself. he'd not want anyone else to find out. It bears questioning though; how he found out. Perhaps Mr. O'Malley..."

I shook my head slowly. "I never told Patrick what I could do. That is, he knew I had some skills with charts. he knew there was no other reason for Mick to have kept me on. He did not know to what extent though. I am sure of that. It does make me wonder. First Jack Sparrow and then you thinking I knew where the crown might be. Just where did those notions come from when I'd never heard of such a thing before? I know Mick was quite the sailor but he wasn't stupid enough to go off on some wild goose chase for a mythical crown and everyone knew that."

"Much like the quest to find a mythical sword is it not?" James countered and I couldn't help wanting to grin at him.

"The thing is, we weren't looking for the sword, were we? I wasn't looking for anything in fact! Do not think I did not notice your clever evasion of the real issue Commodore. Just why did you think that I knew where that crown was? That's a question that deserves an answer as it just might help us work out what else we could be up against."

It was James's turn to appear sheepish as his eyes left mine and fell to the table surface again. "What would you say if I told you I had no answer to your question? I simply had this overwhelming notion of certainty where you were concerned, Miss O'Connell. It is not a feeling I am able to explain. You have proved yourself time and time again to be most trustworthy and an able sailor. Of course, you were also wearing that curious necklace of yours. Perhaps in the beginning all of that was a little confusing for myself. Not to mention the fact that Sparrow was more than confident of your knowledge of the crown. He may be a pirate and a fool, but he has a knack for noticing the obscure and unpredictable. I believe I might have invested perhaps a little too much time in analysing just what goes on within that pirate's mind."

"But nothing goes on in his mind," I mused lightly. "At least not normally. Haven't you noticed that everything he says and does is spur of the moment. It's how he lives. I don't quite know how he's managed to get by like that, but he has. I think if he started to think things through beforehand, he'd get a little lost. He works best when surprised. There's no secret to Jack Sparrow; not really. That's something to think on. None of what you see of him is planned or contrived-"

"How on earth could it be?" James interrupted incredulously. "Who on earth would wish to possess such mannerisms?"

"So it goes without saying that him thinking I'm some human map to that crown isn't really a reliable source. On the other hand, I suppose it is strange that he managed to keep that one thought steady in his head for more than a few seconds. I wonder where he got the notion from?" I shrugged then. "He's Jack Sparrow though. Who knows where he takes his notions from. Maybe he was hypnotised by my necklace too. I'd love to know why everyone thinks its so important. You know, Patrick thinks its an ancient piece of eight. Have you ever heard such nonsense?"

"Indeed I have," James replied swiftly as he reached forward and pulled my sketch towards him so that he could look at it more closely. "Concerning a tale of a mythical sword that could slay sea monsters."

I rolled my eyes. "What is it with all of you and treasure? You're so keen to distance yourself from the pirates you incarcerate that you are missing the most important thing Commodore. Why, you're almost one yourself! Chasing a man across the sea and into a hurricane? Chasing the myth of some magical crown when you've no proof it's even real? Letting yourself be bewitched by some fancy gold sword or my gold necklace? You're more like a pirate than you know. Lying about what happened to Townshend last night to keep me out of trouble when it could very well destroy your career and your good name; isn't that an act of piracy in itself? You're standing against everything you believe in when you lie for me. Don't think I'm not grateful. I just don't understand why you'd do it. It seems you've been so careful to toe the line and advance your career. Why tarnish all of that?"

James was toying with the corner of the piece of parchment I'd sketched on, rolling it between two lithe fingers. He didn't answer for a few moments and it did cross my mind that he might not answer at all. Then he turned back to me and smiled softly. "I believe I explained all of that last night. It was the right thing to do. You only acted in defence of yourself, that much was abundantly clear to me. Perhaps I have not always been capable of judging situations fairly or justly. My education and naval training somewhat crushed the teachings I recall from my childhood. I have recently been reminded that doing what is right whenever possible is a more favourable course than simply following orders. My views are somewhat changed than they were when I first arrived in the Caribbean. I have seen people reach for what they want even when all stood against them. There is no longer simply good and evil on my mind. There is so much more. Indeed, there is still much more for us to discuss. Townshend may no longer be an issue for us, but I fear more problems will arise in the near future. The name I supplied you with and your own potential future devoid of your uncle means that you have a fair few decisions of your own to make Miss O'Connell. I won't have you say that I influenced them overly so. Let us not rehash old discussions just yet for I think you will be eager for time alone to think. I cannot offer you that at present as I'm sure you are aware. Some time in Port Royal where you shall be relatively safe from any prying eyes might afford you that time though."

I gave him no answer and instead turned back to my sketch that now lay half hidden by James's arm. He was right of course. I had so many decisions to make but I doubted I'd ever fully know what my future held. How was I to make any serious decisions when I felt so lost. I had lost Patrick and Mick. I had also likely lost the friendship of those pirates, whether they managed to escape and reclaim their freedom or not. In their eyes I would still be a traitor, even more so because James and I had somewhat struck up a friendship of sorts. That might irritate Jack.

A soft knock upon the cabin door brought us both out of our reverie and James immediately stood and crossed the cabin as if he had been expecting the interruption. I tuned my attention to the window and was shocked to find how much time had passed. The sun had not yet risen but we had reached dawn. Light was beginning to filter into the room and was dismissing the need for a candle. I stayed sitting as Gillette slipped into the cabin and carried out a whispered and hurried conversation with James by the door. It might have bothered me some months earlier that they spoke in hushed tones, but now I was so sure of James and his honour that I knew I'd not have cause to worry about him badmouthing me under his breath. I pulled the wool coat tighter around me and took up the quill again to retrace the sketch I'd made some time earlier.

When Gillette took his leave James began to ready himself for the day ahead. He was sure that his crew had been subdued enough to accept whatever it was he put to them. They wanted payment for their hard work upon such a voyage and they knew they'd not receive it if they betrayed James. It still distressed me a little that the crew were in fact my uncle's hired men even if James reassured me that I'd face no trouble. I was still advised to remain in his cabin though throughout the day with the door locked. It made me uneasy to be taking up residence in a space that was not mine at all. In my experience aboard The Surgence, James did indeed spend a fair amount of time in his own cabin. Whether that was for paperwork or reflection I did not know but I felt guilty in taking his privacy from him. He'd actually done a great deal for me and I had no way to repay him. Perhaps if I'd still had my necklace, I might have gifted the lump of metal to him as he was so keen on it.

I did not realise I'd started to sketch the Irish knot design of my necklace absentmindedly until a shadow loomed over my shoulder and James appeared at my side again. I glanced up to find him once more fully regaled in his uniform, with wig and hat firmly back in place. He'd even managed to pluck another coat from somewhere, almost identical to the one I still wore. The only slight difference was the decoration of the buttons. The buttons on the coat I wore were entirely plain but this new coat boasted buttons which bore a raised design of an anchor with a similar rope design that surrounded the edge. The gold trimming was also slightly different. I wondered if this new coat was more for dress occasions, my mind completely leaving behind the thoughts of what I'd just drawn.

"This you were able to draw from memory too?"

"Well I've no choice. Patrick took my necklace from me. God knows what he did with it. It's more than likely at the bottom of the sea now."

James shook his head lightly as he rounded the table and approached the door. "I know that Mr. O'Malley took it from you. That Miss O'Connell, is how I knew you'd likely befallen some ill. I found your necklace in amongst the contents of Mr. O'Malley's desk drawer. I retrieved it. If you place your hand into the left hand side pocket of that coat, you'll find it." I did as he'd instructed whilst never taking my eyes from his. Sure enough, as my hand slid into the lined interior of the pocket the tips of my fingers ghosted across cool metal. I pulled the necklace free and held the Irish knot in the palm of my hand carefully, as if afraid I might loose it again. I'd thought I'd never see the trinket again in my life and despite knowing it was worth next to nothing I found myself oddly grateful to have it returned to me. I glanced up to thank James but he had gone, closing the door firmly behind him.

I was not fool enough to ignore his advice and so I crossed the cabin to lock myself in. whilst I trusted James's words about his crew I was not so sure how Mr. Hawkins would behave if he found me alone again. It seemed to me that he had lost what little care he had for James's word. He had higher sights set in his eyes and James was just an obstacle. My mind wandered to Patrick then and I realised I had not asked James what would become of the man I had once considered family. Had Patrick done enough to warrant a death sentence? I was sure that James would see it that way, but I was not sure I did; certainly not after taking a life myself. There was too much bloodshed in the world for my liking. I knew I did not want Patrick anywhere near me after he'd disposed of me so readily but I did not think I wanted him to die for such an action. Of course, if he did live to tell his tale I could not ever be sure that he would keep a fair distance. I would always be glancing over my shoulder in expectation of seeing him. I reasoned then that glancing over my shoulder was something I already did quite a lot of. My uncle was still alive and whilst he was and I was alone, I was not safe.

So James has another secret of Fiona's to keep, but how might that change things between them, and how will they manage their current hazardous situation? We'll find out in the next chapter!