A Matter of Timing
The French, Captain James Norrington thought to himself with no small amount of derision, in addition to being a pack of uncivilised cowardly curs, had the most damnable timing.
James had cursed to high heavens when the orders came in for the Dauntless to sail. A French warship had been spotted in the waters nearby and the navy wanted to make a show of force defending the islands they controlled. He did not curse out the Admiralty, but rather the damned French who seemed keen to disrupt his carefully arranged plans. His promotion ceremony to Commodore, and with it his more intimate aspirations, were to be delayed until the matter was dealt with.
Never one to put personal ambition over professional duty, James turned his frustration at his thwarted plans against its cause. They were unable to capture the warship, which turned heel the moment the Dauntless appeared on the horizon, but they did take a French privateer ship as a prize on the return journey. That at least assuaged some of James's black mood and lifted the spirits of his crew, who had been careful to steer clear of him and his foul temper wherever possible on that voyage.
The sight of Port Royal growing larger and clearer in his spyglass as the Dauntless sailed to shore filled James with the usual warm feelings of returning home. It was a mood reflected in the rest of the sailors, eager to set their feet back on land and forget the dangers of the sea and their chosen career for at least a few weeks until they were called back to duty. The collective feeling seemed to fill their sails, propelling them forward at increased speed.
It was only as they neared the port that James's cheer dimmed and was replaced by a grim sense of foreboding. He could tell when the rest of the crew noticed as a sudden hush fell over them, silencing the excited chatter. There were signs of canon-fire against Port Royal's defensive walls and the Interceptor was conspicuous in its absence. James's hand tightened around the pommel of his sword.
Something had befallen his port while he was gone.
There was a welcoming committee assembled to greet them as they pulled in and anchored. James had never seen a group of men look more like they would have preferred to face an execution rather that report to their commanding officer. Lieutenant Gillette, who had been left behind with command of the remaining men to keep watch over the port, seemed to have aged ten years over the time the Commodore had been away.
He might as well have, considering the list of events that had befallen Port Royal and its citizens. James paled more and more as Gillette uncomfortably stammered through his report.
A pirate attack on Port Royal. Miss Swann (Elizabeth…) captured. The Interceptor stolen by the blacksmith's apprentice, of all people, and a pirate by the name of Sparrow that had escaped naval custody. Gillette, with the approval of the Governor, commandeering a merchant ship to give chase. A battle with undead and unkillable skeletal pirates (here James had to admit he had looked over at the other marines in attendance, expecting them to be equally shocked at his subordinate's sudden mental break, only for them to nod grimly at the recounting of events). A sudden unexpected turn of the tide. Victory against the pirates and a successful rescue of Miss Swann and Mr Turner. Captain Barbosa of the Black Pearl was dead, the Pearl herself and her new (old?) captain, Jack Sparrow, gone – a matter for James to deal with now he was back.
"The Interceptor, what happened to her?"
"Lost, sir." Gillette had never looked more ashamed. "The pirates…"
"I'll read the full report." James interrupted gently. The poor Lieutenant, who he knew was a brave and strong man that had weathered many a storm and battle, looked on the verge of tears at his failures. The Interceptor, a brand-new top of the line ship, at the bottom of the ocean before her first real battle. Had James imagined what would befall the port in his absence, he would never have dreamed of leaving it all for Gillette to deal with alone.
James issued a list of instructions, already anticipating a long night spent in his office pouring over reports and planning next steps. Once certain his orders were clear and understood, he made to leave.
"Sir," Gillette called, breaking decorum for a moment by catching hold of his arm and pulling him back. The other officers quickly filtered away to carry out the instructions he had given them, leaving the two alone on the pier. James quirked an eyebrow at his forwardness and felt a horrible sinking feeling when instead of showing embarrassment, Gillette instead steeled himself to deliver more bad news. "Sir, there's another matter I should warn you of."
Afterwards, James would be proud of maintaining his composure even as Gillette broke to him the news of the abrupt termination of his courtship of Miss Swann. He and the other officer had known each other a long time, and it was likely only because of this prolonged friendship that Gillette had dared to bring up such a personal matter to him.
James's expression remained unchanged even as his heart clenched painfully in his chest. He managed a nod and a polite if cold expression of gratitude to the Lieutenant for informing him of this newest development. He waited until he was safely ensconced in the privacy of his office at the Fort to drop the façade and seize the bottle of whiskey he kept in his desk.
Elizabeth was engaged.
The bright, vivacious young woman who had always rendered him awkward and stuttering like a teenager instead of the capable and hardened soldier that he was, the woman who held a sway over him like no other, the woman for whom he had worked so damn hard to become worthy of, had settled her affections on someone else. Not a Lord or a Duke- he might have accepted that, if not with grace than at least with begrudging understanding – but the blacksmith's apprentice. He drained his glass and just as quickly topped it back up.
James spent the rest of the night wallowing in whiskey and misery and self-pity. By the next morning he was, if not reconciled to the reality, at least accepting of it. An engagement was a far greater commitment than a courtship, and far less easily reversed. This was not something he could fight.
Elizabeth had made her choice (and it had to have been her choice, her father would never have allowed her to be coerced or forced), and much as he may not have wanted to admit it, he could think of at least a few reasons for how the blacksmith may have won her heart over such a short period of time. James himself was no stranger to the intoxicating rush of emotions following the skirmish of a battle. From Gillette's recounting, Mr Turner had played a key role in Miss Swann's rescue, which was perhaps the only reason the Governor had pardoned him and excused his collusion with Sparrow. Such a rescue had no doubt endeared him greatly to her and James was also not unaware that Elizabeth had always been fond of Mr Turner ever since he had been rescued as a young boy. Perhaps stupidly, he had thought that fondness to be of the platonic, friendly sort, what with the difference between their two stations. Clearly he had been wrong in that regard.
Despite his aloofness the day before, he was absurdly grateful to Gillette for telling him instead of letting him find out for himself. He could only imagine how much worse it might have been to discover it after calling on the Governor, as he had originally planned once the Dauntless was docked. The other smallest sliver of a silver lining was that at the very least this had all come out before he could have subjected himself to the humiliation of a proposal.
None of those realisations and acceptances made seeing the happy couple any easier.
It was decided that the pursuit of Jack Sparrow was not needed immediately. The reported speed of the Black Pearl meant that there was little hope of catching up even if they sailed now. Instead, the promotion ceremony went ahead as planned. He felt no pride in his achievement. Before, his promotion had meant the possibility of an engagement, but now it felt hollow and meaningless, like performing in a nameless role in someone else's play. He was granted a new blade as per his station. A gift from the Governor he had hoped to have as a father-in-law. But a sword, no matter how fine, was a poor consolation prize in lieu of a bride. It only stung worse to know that that very sword had been forged by the man who now stood smiling by Elizabeth's side.
Once the formalities of the ceremony were over, James excused himself from the group of officers and society ladies that had surrounded him to give him their congratulations to get some air. He wandered over the battlements, looking out over the sea and for a moment wryly considered abandoning the proceedings entirely and diving in to end his misery. Instead, his gaze found the object of his consternations.
Elizabeth was more beautiful that ever. Her golden hair, styled in long looping ringlets that cascaded over one shoulder, reflected the light of the sun giving her an almost angelic glow. It was her smile though that truly lit up her features in a way he had never been privy to before. There was no coy, slight upturning of the lips like the small tight smiles she had given him when they danced or took a turn around the gardens. Instead, her mouth stretched wide, dimpling her cheeks and occasionally flashing white with teeth. Her eyes sparkled with joy and even from a distance he could hear the occasional sounds of her musical laugh. She was utterly breath-taking, and it broke his heart that the cause of it was not himself.
He scarcely noticed when the Governor approached to stand beside him, nodding briefly in acknowledgement and reflexively averting his gaze from Elizabeth before it could be commented on.
"I am certain this was not the homecoming you were expecting, Commodore." Weatherby Swann sounded immensely apologetic. He was perhaps one of the few that may have been privy to the depths of his feelings on the matter, being the man from whom James had sought permission for courtship and later marriage, and who had been witness to the Captain's uncharacteristic nervousness over whether or not he would be accepted.
"Life rarely follows the path we expect." He replied neutrally. "I hold no resentment over the matter."
"I am glad." The Governor spared a glance at the happy couple and James didn't fail to see the grimace that briefly crossed his face. "It is not the match I had hoped for, but it is Elizabeth's choice." There was a pause as he suddenly scrambled to make sure his words were not misunderstood as a slight. "I am sure she will convey her apologies in due time."
James forced a smile. "As long as she is happy. Good day, Governor."
He withdrew hastily before anyone else could twist the knife in further.
As much as James might have liked to withdraw from society to lick his wounds in peace, he knew all too well what that would have looked like and he had no desire to be the subject of people's pity. Nor did he want there to be any consequent repercussions against Elizabeth if it seemed like he had taken her abandonment to heart.
His efforts were in vain. It seemed that regardless of how he behaved, society itself had found other reasons to shun her. He felt no satisfaction at seeing her alone and uncomfortable at gatherings, ignored by all the other attendees. It was only after making a few discrete enquiries with Officer Bailey, a notorious gossip within the naval ranks, that he learned the reasons for it.
Hearing Officer Bailey's garrulous recounting of how she had been pulled from the sea by a pirate, with nothing but a shift protecting her modesty, and then later being marooned for a full day and night on a tiny spit of an island with that same pirate in just as little clothing, made his fists clench in anger but he forced himself to listen to the entire sorry story before firmly reprimanding the officer for speculating on a lady's virtue. He would likely never be able to use Bailey as a source on Port Royal intrigues again, but he hoped that taking a firm stance against such gossip might pass through the ranks and reduce at least some of the talk.
With the full story now known to him, James could understand the reasons for Elizabeth's treatment, even if he couldn't condone it. Her reputation in society had never been pristine and if it wasn't for the engagement, she would no doubt be considered ruined for the events that had befallen her. This was monstrously unfair, James thought, as none of it had been her fault. She had not asked to be kidnapped or marooned, and yet it seemed she was forced to pay the consequences for it.
What did surprise him, was how unexpected the outcome seemed to be to her. She affected her usual good cheer at each event and he watched grimly as it dissipated with each rebuff. He wondered why she continued to subject herself to attending. Her fiancée was never invited and other than her father she had no real friends or allies that were willing to overlook recent circumstances.
For the first few public gatherings, James did not attempt to intervene, figuring that subjecting her to his presence would only make things more awkward and hoping that with time society's judgement might begin to ease as whatever new scandal of the moment took centre stage. But it was not the case, and he watched her grow more and more withdrawn with each appearance.
Eventually he could bear it no longer and at the next assembly he drained a glass of punch for courage and strolled up to her and asked her to dance. Elizabeth visibly cringed at his approach, but his invitation had clearly not been what she was expecting to hear and after a few uncomfortable moments of staring at him uncomprehendingly, she accepted his hand and let him lead her into position.
All too aware of the change in circumstances since the last time they danced, James went out of his way to be more cautious than usual. He kept a more than respectful distance between them and made sure not to let his touch linger any longer than strictly necessary. When they had been courting and even before then, he had always done his best to strike up a conversation, but now he stayed quiet and she too made no move to fill the silence. When the dance was over, he stepped away.
"Thank you, James." She said quietly, giving him a small bright smile. She seemed to have understood the gesture in the way it was intended.
Such a public display that he held no ill will towards Elizabeth was not enough to undo the damage that had been done, but James was gratified to see a few of the other officers, encouraged by his actions, approaching her for further dances. By the end of the evening, her countenance was a lot brighter and cheerier than it had been at the start and James counted it as a small victory.
He repeated the action over the next few societal gatherings to the same effect. It came to the point that Elizabeth started to expect it and soon enough she broke the silence between them.
"I hope you know that Father is ever so grateful." She commented one night. "He's been insisting on my attendance to try to quell the worst of the gossip, and it was downright unbearable until you started to help." Her brown eyes locked with his. "I'm grateful too. You're the last person I would have expected to come to my aid."
"We've known each other a long time." He responded carefully. "Regardless of what may have happened between us, I won't stand by and allow you to be shunned."
"I didn't think it would be so bad." She confessed. "I'm engaged now, what more do they want from me?"
James wisely decided not to point out that her engagement on its own may have been at least partially to blame for her ostracization. The invitations that were currently being extended so as to avoid offending her father would no doubt dry up as soon as she became Mrs Turner.
"I'm glad that you've taken everything so well and that you're not holding the breaking of our courtship against me, not that I would blame you if you did." Elizabeth commented blithely. "It was for the best after all, we would have made an awful match." She gave a short laugh at the mere idea. "You're bound to find a much more suitable wife now, and I really hope you do. You deserve to be happy."
Her thoughtless words cut sharper that any blade. This was the woman who had broken his heart and now she smiled at him as though it were nothing. It took everything within him not to argue back at her and demand to know what was so awful about him that she viewed a match with him as laughable. With immense restraint, he hummed a non-committal sound, not trusting himself to speak.
That conversation was only the first of her many unintentional cruelties. For the crimes of his kindness, it seemed Elizabeth had decided to make his own marital felicity her personal mission, in some misguided endeavour to make him as happy as she was. Much to his dismay, she began singing his praises to the young and eligible high society ladies, effusing over his good manners and respectful courtship. The result was that he now spent most gatherings besieged by debutantes hinting at him, with varying ranges of subtlety, to ask them for a dance or to take a turn around the gardens.
It might not have been so bad, had it not been for the women Elizabeth was selecting for him. There was nothing egregiously wrong with any of them- they were all respectable women from good families with excellent breeding. Coy, demure, obedient and as dull as dishwater, with seemingly little other ambitions in life other than a good marriage and dozens of screaming children. They were all perfectly lovely in their own way and would have made fine wives to any number of gentlemen or officers, but they were just not suited to him.
It baffled him to think that Elizabeth considered these women good matches for him. He politely but firmly turned each one way, often directing other more suitable men in their direction, whom he knew sought out temperate and meek ladies for wives. His refusal to engage with Elizabeth's matchmaking attempts drew her ire often, but much to his displeasure she refused to desist. She admonished him crossly during their dances and each time he politely asked her to stop, but she always spoke over him as though he had said nothing at all.
Their mutual irritation of each other's stubbornness was a powder keg just waiting for a spark to set it off.
"Miss Templeton is a very accomplished woman." Elizabeth said exasperatedly, arms crossed over her chest in a most unlady-like gesture as she glared stonily at him. "She would be a perfect wife for you. I don't know why you won't just ask her for a dance."
After enduring her pushy attempts at forcing him into a relationship for weeks, James had finally had enough and even though he tried to reign back his temper he couldn't help but snap. "It's clear Miss Swann," he drawled with barely concealed derision, "that you know nothing about what I want in a wife. Please cease your attempts to help me."
He had never in the history of their acquaintance treated her so indelicately, and it was obvious how shocked she was by the way her mouth dropped open in a soft 'oh' of surprise, forehead creasing with hurt. He felt a pang of regret but could not will himself to take back the harsh words, instead he swept from the room before she could chastise him or attempt to argue.
James avoided her after that, and it was working quite well until she confronted him while he was waiting at the Governor's house for an appointment with her father.
"You didn't have to be quite so harsh." She said waspishly. "I was only trying to help."
"Your help wasn't wanted."
Elizabeth huffed. "Honestly, James, I don't understand you at all. You seemed so keen on a society match with me, and when I suggest a number of suitable girls as alternatives who actually would want to marry you, you show no interest."
"You think that's the only reason I courted you?" He demanded incredulously, only realising a beat later that he had inadvertently revealed more than he wanted to.
"Yes." She looked baffled. "What else could you have possibly wanted?"
The rational part of James was telling him not to rise to her bait, to not dignify her question with an answer. But the part of him that still bled with hurt wanted her to understand what she had done.
"I loved you, Elizabeth." He snapped. "So forgive me if it takes me some time to recover from you discarding me like an unwanted toy as soon as you found a suitable replacement."
His declaration stunned her into silence. He felt slightly gratified when realisation dawned on her and she looked contrite and discomfited.
"I'm sorry." She said, voice small. "I didn't know. I thought-"
"Yes, you've made it clear what you thought."
Silence descended again, awkward and uncomfortable. The last few minutes finally caught up with James and he cursed himself for telling Elizabeth the truth, no matter how justified it might have felt in the moment. Thankfully, they were soon interrupted by a clerk who came to let James know the Governor was ready to see him, and he escaped Elizabeth's assessing look.
The matchmaking attempts ceased shortly thereafter and he was able to breath a sigh of relief at finally being able to relax a little while in society. He hoped that this heralded an end to Elizabeth's interest in him. Surely, in light of her new knowledge of his feelings, she would be wary of encouraging him and would finally give him the distance he desperately craved.
Unfortunately, that was not the case.
The punch served at the most recent event had been a deceptively lethal concoction. Most of the attendees had drunk the sweet drink liberally, not realising its strength until it was too late. It would have been amusing to see so many of his peers stumbling and fumbling their dances, were it not for his own light-headedness.
He slipped away from the gathering and headed to the library, hoping that a sit down with a book might settle him. He had only just slumped in a chair when the door abruptly opened and shut again. Elizabeth rounded the corner, clearly having followed him to the room and fixed him with an irritated glare.
"You never gave me any indication that you cared for me," she accused, resuming their previous conversation as though no time had passed, "not as anything more than a suitable ornament for your career."
That struck him as unfair. "It wouldn't have been appropriate." He pointed out.
"That's no excuse." Elizabeth's eyes flashed dangerously. "You were being a coward, plain and simple."
"I don't need to justify myself to you." He retorted. "Nor is there any point. You are engaged now Elizabeth, in case you had forgotten. My feelings and the reasons for them are immaterial."
Instead of getting her to drop the subjects, his words only seemed to inflame her further.
"Yes I am engaged." She said spitefully. "To a man who is actually willing to declare his feelings at the right time, rather than when it's too late."
James stared at her and then shook his head. "I'm not arguing about this with you."
He couldn't understand why she persisted in wanting to discuss the matter. As far as he was concerned there was nothing further to talk about, and it only pained him every time she brought it up.
"Of course, you won't," she said, voice dripping with derision, "because that would require passion. And you, Commodore Norrington, wouldn't know passion if it smacked you in the face."
Later James would blame the alcohol still coursing through his system for the sheer disbelieving rage that insulting statement elicited. He could only remember a vague and spiteful need to throw those words back in her face. To prove her wrong, and maybe just maybe give her some hint of what she had so carelessly thrown away when she had settled on another.
He couldn't recall consciously making a decision or even moving, but the next thing he knew he had her pinned to the bookcase, lips hungrily interlocked. Nothing like the sweet and chaste first kiss he had always imagined them to have, this was an outpouring of frustration and hurt and aching want.
Flabbergasted into non-action at the unexpected assault, Elizabeth did nothing except go rigid against him. He was just about coming to his senses and beginning to move away, a grovelling apology on the tip of his tongue, when her hands fisted the lapels of his coat and yanked him back to her, a tiny soft little moan escaping her lips for the very brief amount of time they were separated.
James was utterly entranced. She was every bit as warm and responsive as he had ever dreamed in those lonely nights in his cabin on the Dauntless. For a moment he allowed himself to forget her contempt for him, her engagement to another man, and the fact that at any moment someone could walk in on them, and just allowed himself to enjoy the softness of her lips and the taste of her mouth.
They never spoke about the kiss, not right after it happened nor any time after that. When they had finally broken away, James had taken one look at the horrified expression on her face and fled without acknowledging what had taken place. In apparent agreement that what had happened was a grievous mistake, Elizabeth had finally taken his sentiments to heart and spent the next few weeks avoiding him wherever possible. They still saw each other at a distance on occasion, when James had to attend appointments with the Governor, but they never interacted.
One time he did venture to say something, uncomfortable at the awkward atmosphere and hoping that by breaking the silence he might ease the tension somewhat. He gave her a vague apology for his actions, not specifying what exactly he was referring to. Elizabeth seemed to understand. She kept quiet for a long time, avoiding his gaze until she ventured to softly suggest that it might be best for them to keep their distance. He didn't speak to her again after that.
The wedding approached rapidly after what seemed like months of delays and setbacks. James carefully reviewed the upcoming patrols and missions, rescheduling a few events around to make sure the Dauntless would sail some time before the wedding and not return until a few weeks later. He had no desire to be at Port Royal for the happy event.
He would have thought that his non-attendance would have also been preferable for Elizabeth, so it came as a shock when she confronted him in his office at the fort, a scant few days before his planned departure.
"You're leaving." She said accusingly.
"Yes." He shuffled some charts on his desk, avoiding meeting her eye. "We've been asked to provide support to one of the other ports."
"The timing is rather… convenient."
Her acerbic tone made James drop the papers with an irritated sigh. He rubbed his eyes tiredly. "What do you want from me, Miss Swann?"
"Is it really so difficult to think that I may want you at my wedding?"
"As much as I wish you happiness in your life and your future, I am not such a masochist that I would force myself to watch you marry another."
A strangely conflicted look crossed her face, Elizabeth bit her lip and looked away, wringing her hands.
"I'm sorry, I know you must think me cruel." She began tentatively. "But you've been in my life for so long. You were at my debut and my birthdays, all my major life events… it just seems strange that you won't be there when I get married." She looked a little lost and confused, as though she was just as uncertain as him about the place he held in her life. He had always been in the background, a reassuring constant presence that now seemed on the verge of disappearing entirely.
"I'm sure you'll soon get used to my absence." James said.
She tilted her head. "What do you mean?"
"I'll be requesting a transfer once the Dauntless returns."
"You're leaving? But this is your home!" She looked stricken at the thought.
"I think it is for the best. I'll get a fresh start, and you and your new husband won't have to see me again." And James wouldn't have to see them either, but he kept that thought to himself.
There was little she could say to that, and she left when she realised he would not be dissuaded. It didn't change his mind, but it was in its own way nice to know that she might miss him, even just as little, when he was gone.
The Dauntless sailed on time just as James had hoped for. He watched Port Royal recede from his sight with a heavy heart. By the time they returned, Elizabeth would be married and he would have no choice but to move on. He thought of the reassignment he would request and wondered where they might post him. Privately he hoped that it would be somewhere with a lot of action, where he could occupy his mind with strategies and military tactics, distract himself with adrenaline and the song his blade made as he slashed it through the air to meet an enemy's throat. Anything that would stop him from thinking about what he had lost.
On the journey home (the last journey home), James steeled himself for the weeks ahead. It would take some time for his request to be approved and he would just need to endure a little longer.
Of course, just like the last time he'd had strong feeling about coming back to Port Royal, he found his home yet again rocked by sudden recent events. The first hint he had that something was wrong, was that only moments after stepping foot on the docks he found himself intercepting a harried and upset-looking Governor Swann.
"Elizabeth is gone," the man told him, obviously distraught. It appeared that he had been planning on joining Lord Beckett on some lengthy voyage and it was only through some quick clever thinking that James managed to avert that disaster in the making. Weatherby Swann had always been kind to him, and the whole situation just felt wrong to him. He had learned long ago to trust in his instincts.
Lord Beckett protested of course, and then had the nerve to claim something about an arrest warrant against the Commodore. Bemused, he had asked for the charge and had to hold back an outright laugh when it turned out that, due to some administrative error or miscommunication, they thought that he was the one who had given Jack Sparrow a head start in his escape following Elizabeth's kidnap and rescue from the crew of the Black Pearl. He denied the accusation confidently, citing the evidence from his submitted reports to the Admiralty that he had been away at the time. Gratified, he saw Beckett falter as he lost his best chance to try to manipulate James to do his bidding.
Once Beckett finally departed, James finally heard the whole story from Weatherby as to what had transpired while he was away. Beckett had interrupted Elizabeth and William Turner's wedding, wielding the same arrest warrants he had attempted to use against him. Mr Turner had left to do the bidding of Lord Beckett, and Elizabeth had disappeared shortly afterwards, presumably to follow and help her fiancée in his quest.
Wherever they were, they were probably together and happy. He should have been pleased. Elizabeth had gotten what she wanted, and was no doubt overjoyed about escaping the society she hated and being with the man she loved. He had claimed earlier that he wanted her to be happy, but still, he couldn't help but feel sad that he had missed his opportunity to say goodbye to her. At least he wouldn't have to quit the only home he had known for the majority of his adult life.
Weatherby was of course still worried about Elizabeth, and it took some convincing on James's part to persuade him that going to look for her himself would be a fruitless exercise, and his time would be better spent regaining control of Port Royal and lobbying his contacts in London to obtain a pardon for her. Failing that, Elizabeth was shrewd and resourceful. James hoped that whatever mess she had gotten herself into with Sparrow and Turner, that she would make it out alive. If she needed help, she knew she could contact him or her father and if asked he wouldn't hesitate to fetch her from whatever backwater port she found herself in.
Life in Port Royal slowly returned to normal. Even with the prospective transfer now off the table, James's career was still the only thing in his life that really kept his interest. He concentrated on cementing his promotion, ensuring the Admiralty had no reason to think they had chosen wrong when they had elevated him. With all the recent pirate drama, he stepped up the combat training of his men and added in further provisions to prepare them for battling the honourless rogues that would laugh at the thought of a fair fight.
The move might not have made him very popular when he had initiated it, but the men grudgingly came around after a series of bloody skirmishes while patrolling the seas surrounding Port Royal. The pirates were behaving strangely, on edge and acting more reckless than was usual. James wondered if it had to do with Cutler Beckett and the East India Trading Company's ruthless attempts at ridding the oceans of the criminal element. They seemed almost terrified of capture and fought like devils to avoid it.
One surprising outcome to the time that followed Elizabeth's departure from Port Royal was an unexpected thawing in his thoughts towards a certain Miss Mary Templeton, a respectable young woman that Elizabeth had relentlessly tried to push on him back when she was encouraging him to find a wife. Without the pressure and his own stubborn refusal to go along with Elizabeth's plans, he could see past his own prejudices and began to begrudgingly admit that she may have been at least a little right about Miss Templeton, unlike the other women she had tried to foist on him. Mary was not as empty headed as some of the other girls. She had a wry sense of humour very like his own and seemed to appreciate and respect the work he had done to protect Port Royal.
It was nothing like he felt for Elizabeth, comfortable and safe instead of dizzying and consuming. He and Mary would get on very well, he thought, trying to convince himself of the benefits of the match. There would be no passion or even love, not that he could see. Mary for all her good qualities, was still very much obsessed with reputation and appearances and had only ever subtly expressed admiration for his station and achievements, and not for any of his personal qualities. Still there would be mutual respect, and he had heard of worse foundations to marriages.
Of course, that's when Elizabeth returned to Port Royal. Alone and with no ring adorning her finger.
James didn't find out until after she had been home for a week, when the tide of gossip finally reached his ear. The Governor had secured a pardon during her absence and was working tirelessly to try to fix the mess that had become of her reputation. James feared it was beyond fixing at the point, not that he cared for other people's opinions. He did convince Officer Groves and Lieutenant Gillette to spread word that the Commodore would look poorly upon any slights or disrespect given to the Governor's daughter, no matter what may have befallen her in her absence.
The first time he saw her after her return was from a distance as she walked through the town accompanied by a maid, peering disinterestedly in shop windows but never venturing in. The time away had not improved her mien. She looked thin and drawn, was more conservative with her smiles and generally appeared subdued. She seemed almost fragile, in a way he had never seen before and in a way that was incongruous with how she normally presented herself. It felt wrong to see her like this.
It would have been a lie to say that James wasn't interested in knowing the reasons for her change in demeanour since the last time they had spoken to each other, but it would have felt like the height of unkindness to ask her why she remained unmarried or where her errant fiancée was, considering the difficulties in their personal situation. But nor did he want to hear the story warped and distorted by a hundred different retellings.
The Governor gave him some idea of it, in an offhand comment while expressing his worry over Elizabeth's current state. "I thought she would be pleased to be back, but she has been so down ever since she and Mr Turner parted ways."
It wasn't much but it seemed to hint at the possibility that William hadn't died on the adventure, as James had privately worried, but that instead something had served to break up the couple which was far more surprising. Elizabeth had been so clear and confident in her choice; he couldn't imagine it being her decision and he felt a flare of anger at the foolish aspiring pirate who had not appreciated the woman he had won over.
In the end, it was Elizabeth herself who ended up enlightening him to what had transpired between them. James found her sitting alone at a table at a garden party hosted by one the local wealthy merchant families. Somehow, despite having disappeared for months, she was only mildly censured by society. James didn't know what sort of witchcraft the Governor had to conjure in order to achieve that, but succeed he had. After a moment of hesitation, he went to join her with the sole intent of expressing his gratitude that she was well and back home with her father. She thanked him for his concern and surprised him with what she said next.
"Did you know Davy Jones and the Flying Dutchman were real?" She asked.
"No," he paused and hesitated before continuing, "but there were times at sea that I thought I saw something strange. I suppose that if pirate curses are real, then it is perhaps not outside the bounds of reason that sea legends may be as well."
"Will is with him now." There was a flower in her lap, likely plucked from the very garden they were sitting in, and she absently started to tear the petals into tiny pieces.
"He's dead?" He asked with some surprise. He would have thought the Governor would have mentioned it in their conversation if that had been the case.
"No, but he's been press ganged into service on the Dutchman."
Press ganged implied the boy hadn't been willing. "Perhaps we could-" he ventured but she interrupted before he could finish.
"His father is onboard. Will won't leave him alone to his fate." There was a sense of finality to this statement and a bitterness in Elizabeth's voice that indicated this may have been a point she had tried to argue with the stubborn blacksmith's apprentice.
"I'm sorry." James wasn't sure what else to say. He knew that Elizabeth was in love with Mr Turner, and he couldn't bring himself to find any cheer in her newly single status, not when he knew she must have been upset at the outcome.
"Jack's gone too." She didn't acknowledge his expression of sympathy. "Him and the Pearl. Jones sent them both to the locker. Jack apparently reneged on a deal between the two of them. He hoped that by obtaining Jones's heart he could barter for his life, but Jones's men managed to get hold of it on Isla Cruces."
"He seems the sort of man that drew trouble wherever he went."
Elizabeth laughed but it was tinged with sadness. "That's true." Her smile faded quickly. "It wasn't what I expected it to be." She admitted. "The life of a pirate. I thought it would give me freedom, but everywhere I looked there were just more cages. Different cages but cages all the same."
"I can't say that as a navy man, I'm upset at your disillusionment with a life of crime."
"Oh James," Elizabeth laughed again, fond this time instead of sad. "You've never changed, have you? I can always rely on your constancy, it's just a shame I've never appreciated it before now."
If he was honest with himself, James had not expected Elizabeth to return and he certainly hadn't anticipated her returning alone. It left him with a conflicted feeling in the pit of his stomach. His feelings for Elizabeth were unchanged, unaffected by his best attempts to forget and move on. Seeing her again had brought those imprudent sentiments back into prominence, and even though he knew that Elizabeth didn't share those feelings he couldn't stop the foolish, stupid hope that fluttered in his chest.
He had been planning on requesting a formal courtship with Miss Templeton before her return. Had been on the verge of organising a meeting with her father to request his permission. But now, he found his attentions and concentration failing to focus on the woman he should have been flattering, still drawn to Elizabeth's presence like a moth to a flame. It was a miserable existence, and he cursed the fact that she still had such a firm hold of him and his emotions.
The situation got so bad that he found himself excusing himself from Miss Templeton's presence one evening at the Fenchurch's home, who were hosting a ball to celebrate the engagement of one of their daughters. He had found his gaze straying far too often to Elizabeth, resplendent in an embroidered cream gown and he needed a few minutes of air to chastise himself to keep his attentions focussed on the woman who was actually interested in him.
He found himself retracing old steps to the library and immediately cursed his lack of thought. It was the same library that had hosted his and Elizabeth's fiery confrontation all those months ago. The memories besieged him and he closed his eyes in remembrance.
"What's this I hear about you and Mary Templeton?" A voice interrupted his reminiscence demandingly. A very familiar voice.
Elizabeth.
His eyes snapped open and sure enough, there she was, looking just as irritated with him as she had the last time. He swallowed heavily, trying not to linger too much on those old treacherous memories.
"I thought you would be pleased," he said, "you did suggest that she and I would be well suited for each other."
He had thought reminding her that the match had been her idea might have quelled her baffling anger, but it only seemed to worsen it.
"I'm not." She pronounced, raising her head to meet his gaze. Even with the height difference between them that forced him to look down at her, her glare still held all the threat of a superior officer issuing a formal reprimand. "Why should you get to move on when it's your fault that my engagement ended?"
"What?" James knew he sounded like a simpleton, but he couldn't help it. He had no idea what she was talking about. Her engagement had ended when Mr Turner signed up on the Dutchman, and he had played no role in that.
Elizabeth advanced on him, an almost predatory and threatening look in her eye that made him back up until his back was pressed to the bookcase. "Will was rather upset when I admitted to him that I was having doubts about marrying him." She said, voice low and as smooth as the silk she was wearing. "That I was grateful for the interruption. He was even more upset when I told him that you kissed me."
James's heart sank. Was that why her engagement had ended? His stupid drunken assault on her person? He was so busy feeling guilty for being the reason for her unhappiness that he forgot her preceding statements.
"Miss Swan- Elizabeth, I'm so sorry. I never meant to cause you any difficulties."
"I thought that by telling Will he would react the same as you did when I accused you of being passionless." She continued speaking as though he had not interrupted. "That he would realise what he stood to lose and would finally put me first instead of focusing so much on the father that abandoned him. But he only became angry with me and grew more determined to join the crew of the Dutchman."
She drew even closer. James made to take another step back but realised belatedly that he couldn't back up any further as his back was flush with the bookcase.
"You owe me a wedding, James Norrington." She threatened darkly. "You ruined my relationship with a kiss. It seems only fair that I do the same to you."
Before he could even begin to make sense of what she was saying, she was on him. Her hands came up to hold his face as she kissed him, and for all that the touch was gentle, her grip may as well have been as tight and unmovable as a vice. Her lips were just as soft as he remembered, but unlike last time she did not taste of gin and punch. He too was sober, having not partaken in any alcohol that night, but that did not stop him from quickly becoming drunk on her. The kiss was just as wonderful and passionate as the last one they had shared, only so much better because this time she was the one kissing him. His hands trembled as he moved them to trace the curves of her corset-bound waist.
All too soon, she was pulling away but kept a firm grip on his shoulders, potentially to prevent him from fleeing, as he had the last time.
"You've made no promises to Miss Templeton?" Elizabeth demanded, gaze sharp and lips swollen.
He swallowed heavily, still trying to catch his breath. "No."
"Good." She kissed him again hard, and then pulled away a fraction to whisper against his mouth, "Wouldn't want to make it more difficult for her when she finds out you will be marrying me."
Thoughts still a bit hazy, it took James a minute to figure out what she had just said. "What?"
Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "You do still want to marry me, don't you?"
"…Yes?" James had never been more sure of anything in his life, but was still confused enough that his answer came out as a question.
"Then its settled. I'll let my father know, I'm sure he'll contact you to start making the arrangements."
Her smile was blinding. She pressed one last dizzying kiss to his lips and pranced from the room humming a jaunty tune before he could try to make sense of what had just happened.
And that was how James found himself suddenly and unexpectedly engaged.
James answered the summons to the Governor's house in a bit of a daze. Weatherby Swan was in high spirits and clapped him enthusiastically on the back as he congratulated him on his engagement and admonished him lightly for not seeking him out beforehand for his permission. James stammered out a thank you and an apology, still reeling from the fact that this was reality and not just some fantastical dream.
Soon enough, he was directed to a sitting room where his new fiancée was waiting for him. Weatherby begged off, citing paperwork that urgently needed to be completed and left the couple alone.
Elizabeth rose as he entered the room, a smile lightening up her face with a delight he would never have expected his presence to elicit.
"I wasn't sure you would come." She confessed a little uncertainly. "Or if you did, whether you would just deny everything to my father."
"Why would I do that?" He questioned, genuinely baffled.
Elizabeth flushed and bit her lip. "I did rather force this engagement on you… I worried you might have second thoughts."
He shook his head and took a step nearer to her, sparing a glance for the door that had been left cracked open. There was no chaperone, which was a testament to Weatherby's trust in him and it meant that as long as they kept their voices low they had some privacy. "Are you? Having second thoughts?" He couldn't bear the thought that she might dash his hopes again, but if she did he would rather she do it now than later. "I would not blame you." He reassured her.
Her look was unbearably tender as she closed the gap between them and took his much larger hand between her too small ones. "I've had a lot of time to think recently. About what I want for the future, about you and Will. About our long history together and our courtship, and how you've always treated me so well even when I didn't deserve it." He made to protest at that, but she shushed him and continued. "I was wrong about you, James. I see that now. You're kind and generous and you respect me. You've always put me and my happiness first, even when it comes at a personal cost to you." She paused to squeeze his hand and give him a hopeful smile. "There isn't any man that I would rather marry, and I only hope you'll give me the opportunity to try to treat you as well as you have treated me."
Her words were everything that he had ever wanted to hear, and he found himself unable to stop the stupid love-struck smile that stretched across his face. "I assure you, Miss Sw- Elizabeth," he corrected himself, relishing in the feeling of saying her name aloud instead of reciting it in his thoughts, "you couldn't possible make me any happier than I am right now."
"That's a challenge I'm happy to accept."
Marriage to Elizabeth was not exactly as James had imagined it. In fact, it was infinitely better.
He knew that he wasn't getting a wife that would passively accept his decisions and choices for them, had never wanted that truthfully, and Elizabeth challenged him in ways he had never expected. She adopted and discarded traditional wifely duties as she saw fit, filling the rest of her free time with hobbies and charitable volunteering. It earned them their fair share of scornful looks and derisive comments, but those that dared act on their disapproval quickly learned that neither James nor Elizabeth cared one wit for their opinion, and that James would not tolerate any disrespect to his wife.
Leaving for sea was more difficult with every tour. Elizabeth came to see him off each time, pressing sweet kisses on him and murmuring that she would miss him. It was much the same the days he returned home, only instead she would whisper wicked things into his ear until he dragged her cackling body home and fulfilled each of her lengthy and breathless demands.
In the evenings when he was home from the fort, she would ask him about the things he had seen and done, and eagerly listened to his stories of naval battles and skirmishes, foreign ports and exotic locations. Sometimes she looked regretful that she could not share in his adventures with him, and on those days he made sure to plan little surprises for her. Nothing cheered her like hiring a small sailing ship and letting her have command. She was a harsh taskmaster but rewarded him amply for his indulgence when they returned home.
One night, curled up together between the sheets of the bed they shared – her own adjoining bedroom only serving as a storage and dressing room- James mused aloud a thought that he'd had many times over the course of the past year.
"Do you ever wonder what would have happened if I hadn't been away the night the Black Pearl attacked Port Royal?"
Elizabeth shifted slightly, nuzzling into his neck sleepily. "Sometimes. But I'm happy with how our lives have turned out."
"I had planned to propose at my promotion ceremony." He admitted.
Elizabeth sat up, the sleeve of her loose nightdress slipping down a shoulder to bare her collarbone to his enraptured gaze. She reached out and tenderly cupped his cheek with a soft uncalloused hand. "I'm not sure I would have appreciated it. Not then." She leaned down and pressed her lips to his.
Deepening the kiss, he slipped one arm around her waist to tug her flush against him and with his other hand, cupped the back of her head and tangled his fingers in the golden-brown waves of her hair. She breathed out a distracted little sigh, and he seized advantage of the opportunity to flip her over so that her lovely lithe form was beneath him.
Quickly realising their reversed situation, Elizabeth glared mutinously up at his grinning face before dissolving into laughter and tugging him down so she could hold him close.
"Yes, I'm quite pleased with how things turned out." She said and sealed her mouth over his.
Author's Note: Period inaccuracies as I have unfortunately never had the attention-span to really delve into researching time periods. Also possible canon errors, particularly the part where James stops the Governor from going off with Beckett. I have this weird thing where I can't re-watch/read the thing I'm writing about, which admittedly makes it harder to make things accurate. Anyway I hope you enjoyed!