ONCE UPON A TIME IN THE CARIBBEAN

CHAPTER I

The door squeaked quietly in the Caribbean breeze. Night had crept upon the little cottage which Elizabeth resided in. She glanced out the window, as she often did, not to miss any passing ships she might recognize; possibly black sails...

A whole of eight months had passed since those black sails disappeared into the horizon, since the Flying Dutchman disappeared with a green flash, since James Norrington left and went into the harbour to hitch a ride. She'd told James that he was welcome to stay but he wouldn't; not after she had turned down his proposal again. He had argued that she was practically a widow, but she refused to acknowledge this; how could she promise another man her heart when she safeguarded Will's – literally. James wished her the best of luck although he mourned for her; however, he knew that if there was a woman who could handle herself in this world, that woman was Elizabeth.

With a weary body from the day's endeavours she placed herself onto her bed to get a full night's rest. She was still wearing her clothes since she did not have the full energy to get undressed; it could wait, she thought. There were always chores, tasks and errands to run; all to keep herself self-sufficient and the cottage from falling apart. Her scanty little cottage rested, a little lonesome, close to the very same beach she had said her goodbyes to Will that night, many months ago. Her heart ached when she thought about it. Not too far away, a little town grew. It had been there long before Elizabeth decided to stay on, but it seemed to be growing in a rapid speed. Everyday there seemed to be new strangers who were just passing through and needed to restock their stowage or decided to build their life anew here, permanently.

With closed eyes, she was drifting into slumber; then suddenly, someone was knocking at the door. Elizabeth stopped breathing. It was night, it was dark, there were foul beings who wandered at night; or someone could be in true need of assistance. Her thoughts raced.

When, that someone, didn't receive an answer they started banging and thence fiddling with the door. She had locked it from inside, bolted it with solid plank– in fact. Slowly she reached her hand down, letting it dangle down from the side of her bed to be ready to grab her sword from beneath it.

"Elizabeth?" Someone called. A wave of relief washed over her as she recognized the voice. She leaped onto her feet, with some inconvenience, and placed her forehead against the door to listen properly; could it be the very man she was thinking of? She could even hear his breathing through the door as he remained very still, no doubt listening as well for any possible sound.

"It's me, James." He continued to say after a long silence.

She opened the door hastily.

There he was, the former commodore, dressed not in uniform but in plain sailor wear just as any commoner. This made her smile – he no longer served the crown, he served himself it seemed. Neither did he look as a ragged dog as she had found him on Tortuga once, drunken out of his wits. The man before her was fairly unsoiled, with a clean-shaven face and brown hair tied in the back. The face was as tanned as any other sailor's.

"Elizabeth…" he breathed as he saw her. His eyes gleamed with relieved contentment due to finding her safe and well. In order to let him inside, she stepped back and began searching for the tinder box. She did not strike him as happy to see him in compare to how happy he felt by the very same reunion. After all these years of infatuation, he still found her breath-taking; a notion which pleased him as well as it distressed him.

James closed the door and located the rasp in place. One never knew who strolled here at nights, strange fellows passed through frequently in most ports around these waters. And there was that other problem as well…

"Please, sit." She welcomed him to a chair by the dining table where a neat little candle was lit in his honour for the night. She would not reveal how truly giddy she felt on the inside; there was still some grudge left after he had tried to convince her of her unfortunate state, and the fact that he wanted nothing to do with her if he could not have her.

James felt the blood rush into his head at the sight of her, making him rather light on his feet, in spite of this he managed to take a seat across from where she ought to sit.

"It has been quite some time." She said, making conversation since he had become silent while resting his eyes on the flame. Elizabeth's own hands were busy scooping water into a pot and lighting the hearth.

"It has indeed." He replied sombrely while he let his eyes wander the dim lit room. "Quite a neat little abode you've got here for yourself, Elizabeth."

"Ah yes, it's modest… However, I'm quite fond of it, I must say."

"Comparing to your former residence, it has its… charm." He smirked, to which Elizabeth smiled; knowing he was referring to what had been her father's luxurious estate. James could understand how something as simple as this little cottage could be enough for Elizabeth as residence, she never was one for the material things, if they weren't pirate heirlooms, of course.

They both endured another silence and Elizabeth eventually turned around to pour him some tea. He thanked her courteously. It was curious to him, how a few years ago he had wooed her and spent many evenings, thinking of how married life would be with Elizabeth Swann, a young woman of her standard – now, she had fought in a pirate war, married another man, settled in this small but amiable little cottage. And he himself, he had lost everything, then gained everything againexcept for the woman he loved, and then given up everything for the woman he loved; yet that deed had truly redeemed him. He could not remember a time in life when he had felt as free as he had these last couple of months.

"I certainly did not expect you at this hour, nor day." She smiled and was about to sit down when James caught sight of something that nearly made him fall off of his chair. He had very consciously made an attempt not to stare at her until now, since it seemed unbefitting, however now he continued to stare with no restraint as he simply could not bring himself not to.

Elizabeth sat down and straightened her skirts. "You've noticed." She said shyly. James was certainly shocked and this added to his worried streak, but he could not help to notice that she seemed happy; which calmed him as well as it pained him. Old memories presented themselves to him again; ones that he had repressed for years. It seemed foolish to him now, but he had actually imagined her carrying his baby and not the blacksmith's. He quickly shook away the memory of what he once had wished. If she was happy, then he certainly would be happy for her. It was hard to believe, was all. He managed a smile for her.

"It seems congratulations are in order." He said; although his attempts to hide his jealousy were strong, they were not enough, since the feeling did not go unnoticed to Elizabeth.

"Thank you." She said. "I'm getting' quite enormous, aren't I?" she laughed, placing a hand onto her very round belly; to the stunned James it looked as if she were to pop any minute now.

James felt a nagging thought. Fearing an eventual dusting, he still could not help but to ask: "Do you have anyone around here to assist you, considering your condition? I mean, it's only fair you have a little help around here."

Elizabeth felt he lectured her as one would a child; although with her safety and happiness at heart. She admitted his finer intentions to herself although she found it infuriating. "I'm managing myself quite well, thank you." She said rather promptly, feeling slightly hurt that he made no sign of acknowledging her efforts; he did not know anything of her ordeals.

"Let me stay." He said and leaned forward, pleadingly; however, he had not intended for it to be quite so imploring as it presented itself, and therefore regained his posture awkwardly. In the light of the flickering flame he saw her contemplating gaze. "At least till the child is born, then I'll leave you in peace."

Elizabeth thought that it wasn't her peace he was referring to, but rather his own. "How gallant of you." She said plainly and rose to her feet to clean up whatever she could get her hands on, as if the space needed urgent attendance all of a sudden.

Norrington took a needed breath while planning the smartest way to proceed without infuriating the pregnant woman further. "You know I want nothing else than to see to that you are well. And a birth – I would never imply that I'm an expert of any sort on the matter – however, I do think it proper if you had someone here with you."

"As a matter of fact I do, I have help from the village… a very kind woman, she's to help me when it's time to deliver and she's had over ten children herself. I'm not completely alone, James."

"That is all very well, but I'm sure she has her own tribulations with ten mouths to feed, she can't look after you – I mean…" He was startled by her stare and reformulated his words. "She can't be here constantly should anything happen – the village is a long walk from here and should you need assistance earlier than expected… Forgive me, Elizabeth but I must insist, I do not wish to leave you when you're this vulnerable."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You've always treated me with feather gloves."

James could not ignore the distain in her tone. He knew she had not intended to hurt him, nevertheless the words stung him. "I suppose that was my mistake – you never did prefer the chivalrous commodore to the immodest pirate." He said the last word with nothing but poisonous contempt.

"Well they're all gone now, aren't they." She said and put down the pot with a bang. "And here I am, unfit to roam the seas since there isn't just my own safety to take into consideration anymore – the high seas are an unfit place for children and no place for a bearing woman, I know that as well as anyone."

After a silence James valued her strain and decided he could speak. The following words were said with utmost caution. "In other words… you'll let me stay?"

"You've always been welcome to stay." She said with a sigh, her rage melted away and a look of compassion replaced it. "Although you never wanted to, if not as my guardian."

To him, it sounded as if she thought that he wanted to cage her; which was not fair. "Now I know we could never marry – but I wanted to be in your life Elizabeth, even if it would be in sin." He was hesitant to speak the last words, as if that act itself was punishable. He met her gaze with a sad smile. It was strange to think of God's will, he had seen so much, men suffering under the lash and priests give the final anointing, as a blessing, to those suffering while praising the ones who exacted their power over all the slaves in this world; men and women who never were free to influence their fate, instead, they had it decided for them by divine kings. Sometimes, he wondered what the point was of it all; of all the pain and misery. Enlightenment certainly was something.

To sin, being in close relation to a woman he could never marry, seemed feeble now: insignificant really. Before the hurricane, before she had turned him down, he had never dared to think of such an arrangement with anyone, and particularly not with Elizabeth Swann. The world simply wasn't the same to him, after the hurricane.

"You left." She said.

"I did." He agreed solemnly. "But merely for the reason that it seemed too grim a living to stay on when you did not want me – properly, that is. However… I'm reconsidering this now, it is of greater happiness to me to know of your wellbeing than my own trivial feelings." He even dared to carefully grab her by the hand and hold it in his own.

"You mean, you would only stay on to lay your nobleman's guilt at rest." She stated.

"Only because I know you are very able to care of yourself, otherwise I never would have left. You're actually the most capable woman I've ever seen." He said this with utmost admiration; however, the smirk that was subsequently formed told of his bemusement that struck him whenever he thought of the fact.

"You could have built a house here in the village, with your knowledge and former status you would never have had any issues gaining a fine reputation here. All would've been to your disposal. You could have served as my friend… I needed one." The last words were almost a whisper.

He swallowed, feeling a stain of guilt along with annoyance. "I could never have been your friend, Elizabeth." A shadow flickered in his eyes as they narrowed. He let go of her hand and leaned back on the stool with his back against the window. "Not truly… I could have pretended but it would have been exasperating as well as tiresome."

"What changed?"

James tensed further. Nothing had really changed. "As I said, it's important for me to assure myself of your safety and I did lay my own feelings aside a long time ago. I want to assist you in any way that I can Elizabeth." His words were sincere yet the little lie nagged his conscience; he soon convinced himself it was with her best interest at heart. "This is not about me, Elizabeth. We are but specks on this earth." he gave her a weak smile. Elizabeth regarded him for a moment while considering everything he had said.

"It's late…" she then said after a long silence. "We ought to get some sleep." The candle had almost burned out she noticed.

"Very well." He said and rose from the stool to pick up his gear from the dark space. As he neared the door clouded by night's darkness, Elizabeth frowned. "You're leaving?"

Now it was his turn to frown. "I thought I'd go into the village to rent lodging for the night."

"Oh." She replied. Her upbringing suddenly influenced her, making her lost for words; could she ask the former commodore to… reside in her bed? Nothing would happen, of course – she convinced herself – but it seemed wrong that he would fumble in the darkness all the way to the village in the middle of the night.

"I bid you a good night, Mrs Turner." James said with a kind expression in his eyes. This, along with his acknowledgement of her marriage by how he had addressed her – he had never called her Mrs Turner until now – made her suddenly commit. "James!" She called, as he opened the door to leave. He froze in his steps and looked at her. "I would like it if you stayed." She said, her voice was soft, her eyes suddenly appeared very kind and warm to him.

There was a dumbstruck silence between them before James finally managed to form a sound. "Oh." He said as he valued the thought for a moment. There was only one bed, no bench, all which was left was the floor. "You would?" He said very uncertainly, swallowing nervously, thinking he would be here in the darkness alone with her all night. He certainly was not a young naïve lad anymore, and he supposed he should not let his feelings ambush him once more, but the mere thought of spending the night here, made his knees weak.

"Yes." She replied, kindly.

"Well, I suppose there's no option for me then but to stay." He said, not entirely sure of what he was feeling. The door was closed, and he bolted it shut before removing his coat and his gear. When he proceeded to lay down on the floor was when Elizabeth's chuckle rang in his ears.

"No, you're permitted to rest up here you goof."

James didn't believe it at first, he had to look into her eyes to convince himself that he had not imagined it. "With you?" He asked, he sounded just as terrified as if she had asked him to lay down with a raging bear.

"Yes." She said, trying to appear more solemn. "If the Commodore not think it too improper." She then added.

"Perhaps he would, but I'm not a Commodore any longer." He said, trying to stifle his trembling loins while he managed a smile and rose from the floor to join her. "Besides, I'd rather enjoy your company than the rats'."

Elizabeth made certain he had a pillow beneath his head and a nicely woven cotton sheet before they were permitted to drift into sleep. Whenever her hands brushed against his skin, he almost felt himself blush; he, a grown man, was so taken by her bare presence that he felt it difficult to breathe. After all this time, she still affected him immensely; if not even further than before. Before, she had been a very young woman, enthralling; now she was further matured and his fascination grew with her age.

The Caribbean night was hot, as per usual, and he didn't care much for the sheet; however, he did care for the being resting neatly beside him. Of course, he desired to touch her. Her skin looked soft and was delightfully tanned. The warmth reaching him from her body made his imagination stir; however, he was firm with himself whenever it did, halting the thoughts before they would drive him mad. This was madness, dreaming of a woman married to another man and to top it, was carrying that very man's child. In spite of all of this, he also felt, contradictory, very much content with simply having her close; since he never thought he ever would. Life was utterly strange, he thought.

Gaaah I know I have another story to finish, but I promise this one won't be that long... I have some ideas about it. Still working on that other one though. Please let me know what you think of this one. Should I continue? What did you like about this first chapter? I would really appreciate your feedback!

/Fondofreading