Chapter 4: The Wind Of Outrages

Notes:

Movies AU, still not mine, not making any money, for funsies only

Bit slow to get here, but the plot thickens! Or something.

The next morning, James awoke with his wife still in his arms asleep. He smiled and softly brushed the hair from her forehead, then kissed the top of her head gently. Quietly he slipped from the bed and dressed, then left her to rest.

Closing the door softly, he grabbed a piece of fruit from a bowl on the table, then sat down at his desk and looked around the room. The pile of fabric that was Charlotte's dress lay on the floor still, making him smile. If someone had told him two years ago that he would be a privateer with an ex-pirate for a wife, he would have locked them away in an asylum. Back then it was all about what he was supposed to do - good career, fine wife, children, the whole lot.

Now?

He had thrown his career with the Royal Navy out with the bath water. There was no chance to change his mind, most likely. What man would even allow him back into the Royal Navy? He had deserted his post. Granted, that had been due to the command of Lord Beckett, but unethical though Beckett may have been, he still abandoned his post. Not to mention Tripoli, he thought with a wince

Of course, that begged the question: even if they would permit him to return, would he want to return?

He had far more freedom aboard the Golden Cutlass than he had ever had on the Dauntless or the Interceptor.

If he did want to return to the Royal Navy, would Charlotte want to be in that life? He already knew her feelings on dresses and living on land away from the sea. And he had no intention of leaving her behind, no matter what he did.

A grin slid into place as he remembered her yelling at him when he proposed. The fact that she had argued instead of swooned, he supposed, was one of the many reasons he loved her.

And he knew where she stood on the subject of children, too. But where did he stand? He had told her a privateer ship was a horrible place to raise children, and he had meant it. But did he actually want them? A baby crying for food at any and all hours of the night. A tiny hungry mouth to feed. If she ever did become pregnant, he knew she would insist he did his fair share and she would be right to do. But did he want a young Norrington running around, playing pirates or what have you, aboard the ship? Did he want a nice home on land?

The sea was where he had always been happiest and most at ease. And that was where Charlotte was at home as well. He loved watching her at the helm or plotting a course or simply leaning on the railings and enjoying the sun and sea air. Sailing the seas was where she was at home, where she was happy.

And she had been so miserable the night before.

He winced as he remembered overhearing those horrid women telling her he should divorce her. The rest of the evening she had walked with a cloud over her head, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. At the time he had chalked it up to the dress, but in retrospect perhaps he had been a bit blind to how much of a misery the evening had been for her.

A frown creased his brow as he tossed the apple in his hands back and forth. Had he been blind to her suffering? And after what those women had said to her, he had suggested he would enjoy another night like that.

He groaned softly and put down the fruit.

She would likely still be abed for a few hours yet, so perhaps he would have the chance to head into town and find something to cheer her up. Something that would show her he loved her, whether she was in trousers or that damned black dress she had worn when he had first told her he loved her.

Smiling, he dropped the apple on the desk and walked out of the cabin.

An hour later he was ready to make his way back to the ship. He had found a lovely silver dagger with dolphins carved into the hilt and if that was not his wife all over, he did not know what was. She was going to love it and he could not wait to get back to the ship and wake her.

Rounding a corner, he saw a Royal Navy Lieutenant he did not recognise glaring at him and matching his pace. That was the sixth officer he had seen on his walk. Were they following him? He frowned and slowed his steps to see if the Lieutenant slowed as well. When the officer matched his pace again, he took an immediate sharp turn and another, then doubled back and hid.

The officer appeared and James jumped up behind him, putting his own dagger to the man's throat. No point in dirtying Charlotte's. Not that he had any intention of killing a member of the Royal Navy, but it was better to be prepared. "Why are you following me?" he growled.

Instead of answering, the man shoved the dagger away and flipped James on his back. James tucked and rolled just as the other man's foot would have connected with his head, then swung back up onto his feet.

As they fought some of the officers he had noticed earlier began to surround them, and before he realised it he was outnumbered six to one. And to think the day had started off so wonderfully.

By the time Charlie woke up James had left. It was no surprise, he always awoke first. After she dressed, she went to the deck and when she did not see him there, she assumed he had gone to run some sort of errand. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a Royal Navy ship sailing out of the harbour and hoped Lieutenant Groves was not on the ship, that he had not forgotten to come say goodbye.

Joanna came up the steps from the galley and Charlie waved her over. "Have you seen James?" she asked as her friend approached.

"He went into town a couple of hours ago, said he'd be back later. Had to pick up something?"

Charlie nodded. "How's the resupply going?"

"So we're just going to avoid mentioning the fact that you came back incredibly late in a dress worth more than the ship?"

Groaning at the memory, she turned and walked back to the Captain's Quarters. "I'd forgotten how much I hate those bloody things," she muttered as she crossed the threshold. She leaned back on the dining table and crossed her arms. "Governor Fitzwilliam was having a gala for his daughter. Wouldn't take 'no' for an answer."

"He must've loved it, your husband" Joanna snickered, toeing the pooled fabric of the dress on the floor.

"He did say he wouldn't mind doing it again," she grumbled, sliding down into a nearby chair and pulling out a dagger to twirl in her fingers.

"Think if we sold it, we could get another ship and start our own fleet?" Joanna muttered, still kicking at the dress.

Charlie snorted a laugh. "I'd settle for better food in the galley."

"Stale bread and mouldy cheese not your favourite on a long journey?" Joanna took a seat at the table. "What'd you tell him?"

"The cook?" Charlie asked with a start.

"Your husband. He said he wouldn't mind doing it again?" Joanna prompted.

"Ah." She took a moment to collect her thoughts. Thinking on it, they had not discussed it, between the gala and their night of passion. "We, uh, haven't exactly had the time," she muttered, certain her cheeks were colouring.

"I heard," her friend snickered.

"I knew it was a mistake to give you the room below ours," Charlie muttered with a grin.

"You had to, it's the First Mate's quarters." Her friend reached out and took the dagger she was twirling. "And don't think I've forgotten what we were discussing."

A sigh blew past her lips and she straightened. "What if…," she began, "what if he wants to...go back?"

Joanna leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "If you think he's going anywhere without you, you've lost your mind. I may be the last person after Jack Sparrow to be suited to giving out marital advice, but I'm not blind. That man loves you."

"What if he wants a family?" she whispered.

"How did we go from galas with the governor to having children?" Joanna laughed.

Charlie sighed and pushed up out of the chair. "Nevermind, let's just get the resupply finished so we're ready to leave when James gets back."

Her friend rushed to follow, handing her back the dagger as they reached the door. "I meant it, Charlie. That man loves you more than anything. You have nothing to worry about," she muttered as they walked out onto the deck.

A few hours later, Charlie returned to the ship with the last load of supplies they had bartered in town. Up on the deck, she saw Joanna and caught her eye. The First Mate shrugged and shook her head. James still was not back. That was not like him at all.

Squinting in the bright light, she looked around the dock and saw Lieutenant Groves readying a large Royal Navy ship to depart. Perhaps James had been with Groves? She caught Joanna's attention again and indicated she was going to speak with the Lieutenant.

"Please know where he is," she muttered to herself as she approached. "Lieutenant!"

Groves turned around with a grin. "Captain Norrington!" he greeted.

"Have you seen my husband?" Perhaps it would have been polite to enquire how he was, but she was too worried.

His forehead creased, though his smile held. "Not since the gala. Why?"

"It's been hours since he left the ship," she muttered, her hand tensing around her sword hilt. "He told Joanna, our First Mate, that he needed to pick something up, but it couldn't've taken this long, could it?"

Groves took a deep breath, casting a weary glance at the horizon.

"What? What is it?"

"I should've said something earlier," he sighed.

"Groves!"

He pressed his lips together, then looked down at her. "There were other soldiers here, visiting from Anguilla."

"Anguilla?"

Reaching up, he rubbed at the bridge of his nose. "His father is in charge of the garrison there. Recently appointed."

Her eyebrows drew together and she opened her mouth, though no words came out.

"He came to the Caribbean looking for the Captain," he explained. "Word reached England that he'd abandoned his post and the Admiral...he didn't like that." Groves glanced back to the horizon. "I don't know with any degree of certainty…."

Charlie grimaced then stalked off down the pier. "I bet the harbour master would," muttered over her shoulder. She ignored him calling after her as she stormed up to the hut where the harbour master was poring over some document or another.

The man turned around and smiled at her. "Ah! Mrs...I mean, Captain -."

"Where is he?" she growled.

"I beg your pardon?" he stuttered, glancing behind her.

"The HMS Defiance," Groves clarified, reaching out to grab the crook of Charlie's elbow. "Did Captain Norrington depart with it?"

The man's fearful expression wavered between Charlie and Groves. "I, uh, I...he...I saw him...board…," he sputtered.

"You saw him board?" Charlie echoed in a low voice. "What, my husband was taken and you just watched him go?"

"He...he was...it...seemed voluntary," he stammered, glancing back at Groves.

Charlie growled and spun, walking back toward the Cutlass. Behind her she heard Groves say something to the man, but could not be bothered to listen to what it was. Then she heard his footsteps as he ran to catch up to her.

"What if he's gone? What if he wants to stay gone? What if -?"

Groves grabbed her arm and pulled her around to face him. "If you think for one moment he'll be happy to see his father and decide to stay there rather than return to you, you've lost your sanity."

"Never had much to begin with," she groused. "You heard the little weasel. It was voluntary."

"If you were looking to bring a man of Captain Norrington's size aboard your ship without raising eyebrows, would you carry him?" He paused, then continued in a softer voice, "Or would you point a concealed pistol at him?"

"Somehow I think it would take more than a single pistol to get James to cooperate," she muttered with a wry grin.

"Then perhaps several pistols, or a threat to you," Groves added.

Nothing came out when she opened her mouth to reply. He was right. James was likely coerced aboard. Regardless of whether he wanted to go back to formality and propriety, he hated his father and was certainly in no rush to see him. "Anguilla?" she eventually asked, finally looking up to meet his eyes.

"If indeed his father is behind this, yes."

Nodding, she puffed out a shaky breath. "Thank you."

"Be careful!" his voice followed her as she ran back to the Cutlass.