I had meant to gift you lot with a massive Christmas update and then again with a New Years smash but then I got horribly ill and only now have gotten back on my feet. My apologies that I'm not the type to write despite an illness. I hope the following makes up for the absence though.

"You look as though you've seen a ghost." Elizabeth whispered soon after Norrington had deposited Ashlynne back with her companions. "Are you quite well Miss Davenport?"

Ashlynne nodded, though she did unsheathe her fan and began to make use of it. "Yes, I just believe I've had one too many dances this evening. Perhaps I should return to my brother before the night grows too long." She gave Groves a pointed stare, willing him to understand her need to retreat, before turning a bright smile upon Elizabeth and Will. "Thank you for the invitation Miss Swann soon to be Mrs. Turner." Elizabeth blushed shyly at Ashlynne's words and Will's smile broadened. "I will see you on the morn I suppose Will." She gave them both a courteous bow before turning and tucking her hand into Groves' offered arm. Once they had moved far enough away from Will and Elizabeth, and the crush of the crowd paid them no heed, Ashlynne allowed herself to lean more heavily against her friend and sighed. "I almost lost myself Theodore."

Groves frowned but said nothing, though he did reach over with his other hand and laid it gently atop hers. He led her to the main hall and left to retrieve her cloak. Ashlynne knew that Groves would most likely chastise her for her candid discourse with Norrington, and Parlan would too, but she hadn't been able to stop herself. Once faced with his stubborn inability to see reason, his blind belief in the twisted "justice" of the region had nearly blinded her with rage, and regret. That she had fallen in love with such a fanatic grieved her immensely but that he still allowed that fanaticism to isolate him from what could be happiness was beyond anything she could truly comprehend.

When he'd first spoken of Sparrow she'd been able to bite back her words of favor towards the pirate. She knew him in a different light than Norrington, and even that of Will and Elizabeth. He was much of an ally to her than he'd ever been theirs, and she was much more likely to spring to his aid than they. However, she, like Sparrow himself, understood when to keep quiet and when an opportune moment would show itself. In her own way, with the words she'd spoken, she had justified a portion of Sparrow's past, as well as her own. Her honor bound duty to aid the pirate had thus been appeased.

Then, when Norrington had continued his rant against piracy and with his insistence that there was only one way and no justification for other actions, she'd had to literally bite the inside of her cheek to keep from lashing out at him. It had been that very zealous devotion to unmovable justice that had separated them all those years ago. She'd known then that he'd never hear her out and he'd proven that by having her pursued until what he most likely assumed had been her death. That he would still not listen to her, should she choose to reveal her true identity, struck a deep chord of bitterness inside her. Even now her stomach rolled with the thought of his inevitable rejection.

Standing alone in the receiving hall, Ashlynne now realized that somewhere deep the recesses of her mind, the area that still held some semblance of naive hope, she'd believed that perhaps this was their second chance. Only if fate wanted them reunited would they have found each other again, and at so fortuitous a time. But the fates were cruel, she understood that better than most, and it was not to be. James was just as pigheaded as ever and she just as condemned in his mind; even if he had not spoken the words themselves she knew they would be uttered the moment she told him the truth.

"You are leaving?" at the sound of his voice, so near behind her in the hall, Ashlynne felt the blood in her veins slow as if riddled with ice. She turned and saw him standing just a pace from her, confusion and something else entirely on his face. Surely he must know that she was leaving because of him. Only an idiot would think otherwise. "I apologize, Miss Davenport, if my behavior this evening has offended you in any way. I did not mean-"

Ashlynne raised her hand to still his words and offered up what she hoped was a placating smile, "Oh do not fret Commodore. I find that I am feeling peekish. Perhaps I too ate something displeasing and am soon to suffer the same fate as my brother. It just so happens that we shared a heated discussion around the same time that my body began to suffer discomfort."

He didn't look convinced but didn't call her out on her lie. Ashlynne wondered then what was taking Groves so long; surely there were not so many cloaks as to keep him gone quite this long. Norrington stepped closer and Ashlynne had to bite back the urge to tell him to go to the devil and not come closer. Her ire was born with an equal amount of temptation to fall into his arms and weep out the story of her life. Neither was a good idea and so she kept quiet and still.

"Miss Davenport I feel I must apologize to you still."

"And why is that Commodore? Do you wish to recant your earlier statements and finally see reason?" she couldn't stop the bitterness from seeping into her voice then and watched as the corners of his lips drew down in response.

"I realize that I may have come across as a might obsessive in my justifications of a harsh stance against piracy. In my line of work this is to be expected and with my own personal history with pirates," his voice trailed off and for a moment his eyes took on a far off look, "well suffice to say I have yet to meet a pirate who can truly be redeemed."

"If," Ashlynne tugged at the sleeve of her gown to keep herself busy and away from the idea of slapping him, "you have sought me out only to frustrate me more, then Commodore I believe our conversation is over. You have already stated your inability to be moderate and I have already stated my desire to understand a person's reasons before condemning them."

Norrington stepped closer and Ashlynne mentally sighed when she found herself tipping her head back to look up into his eyes instead of off into the distance like she'd originally meant. "Yes, and I remember well what you said Miss Davenport. I came not to frustrate you but to ask you why you feel so differently from the rest of the gentry. I have never met a woman who felt so moderately towards pirates or piracy, nor have I met a woman who seemed so inclined to weighing out moderate justice instead of a harsh punishment after a hasty trial."

Ashlynne was surprised for two reasons. One, that he would boldly question her so soon after their disagreement; and two, that he had read that far into her statements. Perhaps he wasn't as fanatical as he'd once been; perhaps there was still hope…no, she could not allow herself to see hope. That would only lead to more heartache.

"I knew a family, long ago, back in Scotland." At his surprised glance she quickly added, "Yes, I'm sure you recall that I have never left these waters, but I have encountered those who had. Years ago I met the remnants of this family, I suppose is what I should have said. Two men and a young woman; they were all that was left of what had been a powerful and well respected family."

"What happened to their family?" Norrington asked, drawn in by Ashlynne's tale.

"A neighboring laird, desiring their land, poisoned the king against them, bribed former allies to be witnesses against them, and accused them of treasonous dealings. The family was subsequently shamed and exiled, their lands mostly confiscated and given over to the laird. That did not suit the laird though; he was not satisfied without blood you see? He arranged the deaths of many of the key members of the family and then as a final blow surrounded the remaining keep and held the young daughter hostage in order to lure in the rest of her family."

Norrington frowned and she watched as he reached up to stroke his brow, as he'd been wont to do in the past when thinking. "Why would he want to lure in the rest of the family and destroy them so ruthlessly?"

"He felt that certain members of the family would be useful in retrieving an item for him, an item he felt was very precious and worth any price." Ashlynne shrugged, not caring that the movement was unladylike, and continued. "He held the daughter and a number of her cousins hostage while the remaining members set off to retrieve this item, warned not approach any form of government for aid or else risk the lives of the rest of their family." Ashlynne heard movement behind her and glanced over her shoulder to see that Groves was returning from down the corridor. "Now I ask you, what else should they have done except retrieve this item?"

"In this case, from what little details you've given, it seems that they had little other choice." Norrington ceased his movements and drew his hands together behind his back. "Did they resort to piracy in order to retrieve this item, is that why you are so sympathetic to pirates?"

"They resorted to no piracy, though they did use disguises in order to travel. Once they found the item they also discovered that others wanted this item as well and in the process of attempting to retrieve the item the other group of individuals was killed. It was self defense they assured me, but because they had used disguises and because they were not well connected it was assumed that they had committed murder and immediately a manhunt was launched to catch them."

Groves was now by her side and glanced between them. Ashlynne nodded to him and he shifted slightly on his feet before he helped her put on her cloak.

"It was then that they enacted piracy." At Ashlynne's sigh Norrington nodded. "I suppose they were successful in rescuing the family members despite the mishaps elsewhere, rendering, in your mind, the piracy justified." Norrington sounded disappointed almost, as if her tale were not worth the telling.

Ashlynne sighed again, "They returned only to find the majority of their family murdered and only just barely managed to rescue the daughter. They fled Scotland and England and were on their way to the Tortugas when I last saw them." At her side she saw Groves stiffen, most likely in surprise that she'd speak so boldly the truth. Ashlynne knew, however, that Norrington would be too blind with his own pride to see through the lines. "Was losing their family punishment enough for their crimes, Commodore, or should they be punished again?"

Norrington didn't say anything, only continued to frown, and so Ashlynne nodded to Groves again and he silently took up her arm and began to lead her to the door. Norrington snapped back to reality with their movements and he moved to the door and instead of barring the way held it open for them. Before they could brush past, however, he reached out and touched Ashlynne's elbow to stop her.

"What name did this family have?"

Throwing caution to the wind and gambling again on his foolhardy pride, Ashlynne growled out the name, "Fitzpatrick," before she allowed Groves to whisk her off into the night.

With her words ringing in his ears James felt the ground shift beneath his feet and he had to brace himself against the door to keep from sinking to the ground. He watched, gaping, as Groves handed Miss Davenport up into a carriage and they were born off down the drive. Left as he was to whirling thoughts and assumptions, James stumbled out the door and leaned against the porch column. He knew he should return to the ball, return to his duties as Commodore, ever cheerful and charming to the gentry. Yet he found that that thought made him ill and with near blindness he sought out the stables and his own horse.

The similarities of Miss Davenport's story and the snippets of what he knew of Ashlynne's were too great. Truly Miss Davenport had met relatives of Ashlynne's either before or after her death. He would have to ask Groves later of what he'd known of Ashlynne's past. He had always meant to ask the man, since he and Ashlynne had been bunk mates and friends of sorts whilst her time aboard the ship. Yet he'd never gotten around to it; always afraid that somehow he'd discover exactly what he'd discovered this evening –that Ashlynne had not been a monster. Of what he'd known of Ashlynne, which had not been much beyond his own infatuation for her, the likelihood that she had done what she'd done out of familial duty made more sense than a sudden urge for blood and piracy.

This knowledge, while it wiped clean a bit of the dirt on the memory of the woman herself, did nothing to change the fact that she had killed two members of the gentry and had committed acts of piracy after fleeing the scene. In the eyes of the law she was still a condemned woman who had met her fate as a consequence of her crimes.

But Miss Davenport had stated that the members of the family who had traveled to retrieve the item had not been alone. Did that mean that Ashlynne had a contact in these parts that he had missed somehow? Or had Miss Davenport been mistaken in her retelling? Also, what item was it that Ashlynne had been after? Did she have it with her when she died; was that the reason why she'd killed the Foresters?

James felt his head pound as he rode back towards the barracks, unsure of how he'd even managed to get this far down the road without being fully aware of his surroundings. There were so many possibilities, so many uncertainties. Who were the remaining family members and did they know what Ashlynne had done, or even that she was dead? What were they doing now, so many years later, in the Tortugas? Why would they have confessed such things to Miss Davenport, a complete stranger?

James closed his eyes and pulled the reigns, causing the horse to stop in the middle of the deserted road. It stomped its feet warily, uncertainty rippling through its flanks in part due to the sudden stop and in part due to the discomfort of its rider. James allowed his mind to travel back to the first day he'd seen Miss Davenport and all the days since, their every interaction, their every conversation. He sought out everything he knew of her and her brother, of their sudden appearance in Port Royal near the time of Sparrow's disappearance. He traced over the contours of her face and body with his mind's eye, seeking out anything that would clue him into something helpful. Then he remembered the brief feel of her face in his hands, the moistness of her tear as he'd brushed it aside, the lilt in her voice as she'd spoken of-

"Dear heavens…" James' eyes shot open. "She's alive."