They made port on schedule, the hired sailors were paid their dues, and all dispersed to their varying corners of Tortuga soon after. Ashlynne knew she was being juvenile but she carefully avoided James the entirety of the process of pulling into port and leaving one another. She saw Parlan speak to him but refused to question her friend as to James' proposed whereabouts or future plans. She wanted to want nothing to do with the man, especially with the way he made her feel rage and desire near at the same time. And so she busied herself with tracking down Sparrow and ensuring that he understood that the debt was paid and her curse was broken.
Of course Sparrow was easy enough to find, wrapped around a few whores from the brothel and drinking himself into a stupor with Gibbs. He'd acted like a conquering hero up until the moment the Black Pearl left port without him. Ashlynne had laughed when she saw the vessel making way, knowing that Sparrow was not on it. She had no fear that the tenacious pirate would find some way to reunite with his beloved ship and had wisely kept out of the issue. Let Sparrow pursue his next great adventure on his own and leave her and her family be. She was curse free, they were curse free, and now they could truly begin to live legitimate lives without the shadow of duplicity and violence hovering over their heads.
That was difficult to do, living on Tortuga, of course. Every day there proved to be an opportunity where she could step in and stop a fight or defend an innocent, but every day she had to weigh the options of what doing so would cost her family. Since returning to Tortuga they'd all fallen into a routine again, one that was dependable if a little mind numbing for Ashlynne. Hope still volunteered at the mission and spent her days tending to the sick and wounded, even offering some basic reading and writing lessons when she could. Devlin and Ishmael hired themselves out as merchant sailors when they weren't fishing, and Parlan began to disappear more and more without telling her what he was up to. He always came back to the house weeks later with exotic gifts for all of them but with each gift he tried to give her, the more ill ease she began to feel.
She used to accompany him on those adventures, she used to be the one gifting such things to her family, but now she spent her days pouring over log books in the harbor office. Though she'd found gainful employment of her own, she felt like a ship without a rudder. For so many years of her life she'd had one purpose and had lived each day for that purpose but now, with it gone, she knew not what to do. She'd chosen to not continue the work she'd had with Parlan prior to the curse because she wanted to remain with her family, a luxury she'd not had in some time. So she knew she should feel no such dissatisfaction with life, that she should be thankful that she'd come through to the other side of a curse with the remaining members of her family still alive. And yet…
The door to the office she kept opened and she looked up, expecting to see the harbor master. Instead she found herself staring at James Norrington. He sported a well trimmed beard and wore a simply cut jacket without a vest over his blouse and trousers. Upon seeing her sitting at the desk he removed his hat and held it at his side, moving further into the room in order to close the door. He was clean and so she knew he'd not slept with the pigs as he had last time he'd been in Tortuga. Since making port on that fateful voyage it had been three months and in that time she'd seen none of the man, a surprising feat considering how small the island was. She'd followed her initial desire of not knowing and so had not ever mentioned the man's name to Parlan or the others. Yet here he stood, looking healthy and not at all the tortured soul she expected him to be living amongst the dredges of society.
"Good day Miss Fitzpatrick," Ashlynne raised her eyebrows at his formality but didn't immediately reply, "I was hoping to find the harbor master. Do you know of his whereabouts?"
Ashlynne leaned back in her chair in order to glance outside the window closest to her desk. The harbor master was sitting in the shade of the building, smoking a pipe and having a laugh with one of the captains of the recently arrived vessels. She looked back to James before nodding her head in the direction of the window.
"He's outside havin' a smoke." James nodded but made no move to retreat from the office. Ashlynne waited for a few awkwardly silent moments before she sighed and spoke again, "Is there somethin' I can do for ye, Mister Norrington?" She put extra emphasis on her own formality and she saw instead of a frown but a smirk grace James' face as a result.
"Perhaps you can," James came to stand directly in front of her desk and withdrew a parchment, "I was wondering if you could check the records of a ship called Poseidon's Mistress. She was due to make port yesterday but as I'm sure you are aware did not."
Ashlynne held herself back from questioning the reasons by James wanted to know about that particular ship but instead went to the cabinet where she kept past records. The Poseidon's Mistress was the ship Parlan had been last on and it had been on that ship that he'd last seen battle, against the Spanish, before making port a few months before. It'd sailed away only a few weeks ago, with Parlan on it, but hadn't been seen since. She'd not known of its destination other than far eastward and hadn't wanted to pry into Parlan's business at the time to know more than that.
"Here ye go." She handed him the file. The first month she'd been in this office had been hell on her mind, with all the reorganizing and restructuring. The harbor master was a canny enough fellow but not an ounce of organizational skills could be found within him. "She was last in port two weeks ago come tomorrow mornin', and when she sailed out she was cartin' a cargo of indigo and sugar with an easterly destination. The captain made no indication to the harbor master or myself of his intended return date, so that information is yours alone I'm afraid." She watched him flip through the papers she'd gathered together from the past records kept on the ship, along with her own more recent ones. "I'm afraid I cannae be more helpful than that Mister Norrington."
He closed the file and handed it back to her. She clenched her teeth when their fingers brushed in the process. She would not get giddy over such a trifle touch.
"You have actually been most helpful." James withdrew a pouch and placed a few coins on the desk. "I understand that payment is customary for such proceedings."
Ashlynne stared at the coins then looked up to James, shock most likely apparent on her face. Had he just bribed her? Yes, it was customary for people to grease the wheels of the harbor office and she'd received more than enough bribes for information just in the time she'd been assistant to the harbor master, but to have James Norrington himself attempt to pay her for services rendered made her speechless.
"I was wondering, Miss Fitzpatrick, how is your family? I have not seen much of them I'm afraid, busy as I've been with my work. Is your sister well? And your cousin?" James appeared to take her shock in stride and kept his face neutrally earnest as he made an attempt at polite conversation.
Ashlynne found herself nodding, shock from his actions keeping her from withholding information as she might have normally done. "Hope is at the mission now, tendin' to the sick, and Devlin is workin' with the local fisherman and can sometimes be seen at market at one of the stalls. They are both well, thank ye."
"That is splendid." She saw James clench the brim of his hat and felt some return of her earlier bravado. He wasn't nearly as comfortable with seeing her as he let on. "I was most curious, Miss Fitzpatrick, and you need not answer the question." She raised her eyebrows at the same time she crossed her arms across her chest, readying herself for whatever he threw her way. "In the time of our acquaintance you have proven your fighting skills as well as your skills of masquerade. Where were you given the opportunity to learn these things? This has long been on my mind and I find myself too curious to abide by social expectations not pry."
"What?" Ashlynne questioned, surprised speechless again by the man and it'd been under an hour since seeing him.
"Yes, when I first met you, you had the accent and mannerisms of a young Irishman. Then, later when our paths crossed, you appeared as a proper English lady with an equally proper accent, and now that there is no need for disguise, your mannerisms and accent flow somewhere between the two, the young Irishman and the proper English lady. I know your observational skills are most stellar, were you perhaps able to pick up on the subtle nuances of behavior by careful study or were you taught these things?"
Ashlynne frowned, "Why do ye want to ken?"
"Merely curious, Miss Fitzpatrick. I stated earlier that you need not answer the question. I only ask because that young Irishman was a most intriguing fellow, quite beguiling to be honest. He had an earnestness about him, an eagerness for life that was intoxicating. The English lady was refreshingly forward with her opinions and though she was witty with her speech she too had a seriousness about her, almost a melancholic desire to see herself through on the right path, that left me speechless if I may be bold enough to confess."
"And me?" Ashlynne wanted to kick herself for asking. She blamed the heat of the day, the very presence of James, and his new unpredictable nature.
James smiled, "You, Miss Fitzpatrick, are an enigma to me. There are moments where I see the young Irishman and moments where I see the English lady and it makes me wonder if you even know which one you are as well." The clock tower rang, signaling the change in the hour. "I'm afraid I'll not be able to stay for your answer. My apologies for starting down a line of conversation and not finishing it. I am needed elsewhere. Thank you again for your help with the records. It was a pleasure seeing you again, Miss Fitzpatrick." He gave her a slight bow before he turned on his heel and exited the office, never giving her chance to reply that she too didn't quite know which she was either.
Two Weeks Later
"Will you sit still already?" Hope yanked at Ashlynne's hair to punctuate her sentence. "I'll nay be able to finish in time if you keep squirming like that."
Ashlynne folded her hands in her lap and glared at Hope through the mirror, "I still donnae understand why I must be the one to attend and not you. Yer the one the governor likes, not me."
"Au contraire dearest sister." Hope resumed her task of pinning Ashlynne's hair. She'd already wrangled Ashlynne into a gown and had only a few more pins to place before she would be ready for the evening's dinner party. "He specifically invited you because you are the accepted leader of our household. The governor wanted all the respectable leaders on the island to attend to show the visiting British officers that Tortuga is more civilized than it's rumored to be. He wants to show these men that Tortuga needs no outside 'aid' from the British and that all is fine as it is."
"I'm respectable?" Ashlynne cracked a smirk and Hope tugged harder on her hair as a result.
"You are more than you allow yourself to be. Sometimes, dearest, I wonder if our birth order was reversed and I am the elder." Hope finished her task and laid her hands on Ashlynne's shoulders. "But I know that it is what you've had to live through that's made you so cynical, so bashful in the sight of respectability. There is none that could be more loyal, dedicated, and honorable than you."
"Except maybe me." Devlin commented from the door, a grin upon his face. "But I would agree with Hope, you need to stop this strange idleness and get back to living."
Ashlynne raised her eyebrows, "Idleness? I've nay been idle at the harbor, I'll have you ken. That man has no talent for record keepin' despite his position."
"That isnae what I mean. You have been wandering through your days in a daze and we all feel your absence. If this is what you'll be like from now until your death, by staying by our side, than I'd rather you sail off with Parlan every month. It'd be better to see you on occasion with your smile back and your heart alight than to have to deal with you as this husk of what you used to be." Devlin lightly touched Ashlynne's cheek, his eyes earnest and warm.
"You two are worse than a motherin' hen." Ashlynne shook her head at them and stood. "I'm just fine, ye ken? I suppose I just am nay used to livin' life without a sword at my back. It'll take some time to get used to."
"More than three months of time?" Hope smiled sadly at her. "Maybe the party tonight will help you gain some perspective again."
"Since when have dinner parties where I had to attend cinched in worse than a horse given me any perspective on life other than I'm glad I'm nay a horse?"
They shared a laugh while Ashlynne filed away her family's concern for later perusal.
With a footman's uniform as disguise and by keeping to the shadows as best he could, he'd yet to be detected by the party goers. James shifted his weight from one foot to another, desperately wanting to sit down but not able to within the cramped confinement of the closet. He had chosen to do this portion of the job though Parlan had offered to take it. James preferred this though, it had given him an opportunity to see Ashlynne again and it would perhaps grant him more.
He couldn't believe that a mere three months had gone by since he'd been given a new chance at life. In those three months he'd traveled with Parlan to various locations, hiring themselves out as "problem solvers" in a fashion to local authorities. After making port, Parlan had asked about his interests for employment and, after James' lack of answer, had taken the initiative and offered him an apprenticeship within his guild of employment. Not quite privateers, as their work took them well inward across land, but they were typically employed by naval companies and they held loyalty to no one but the guild for which they worked. Thus far they'd tracked down a number of well established society men, all guilty of extorting from the companies or selling naval secrets to rivals. They'd also had to masquerade themselves to infiltrate enemy courts, namely the Spanish, to procure vital information that would protect the shipping routes of British vessels.
That was what had brought him to this horrid little closet. Parlan had been able to ascertain the identity of the double agent who'd been passing secrets on to the Spanish navy. He would be in attendance tonight amongst the governor's guests and this would be James' opportunity to seize him for further interrogation. Sadly there were more of his kind amongst the ranks of the British navy and Parlan and James were currently being employed by said navy to track them down and eradicate them. Thankfully Parlan was the face the British navy associated with this work, and he had been able to remain anonymous. No need to show his face to former colleagues when he was long since reported dead.
He heard voices and near stopped breathing as a result. The closet in which he stood was in the study of the governor's mansion and Parlan had made sure to leak out information that charts describing new shipping routes were being held in the safe within this study. If the spy had taken the bait then he'd find some excuse to come inside. That would be James' opportunity. The voices died away and James let out the breath he was holding. Before he could relax, if there was such a thing in this confined space, he heard the door to the study rattle. He peered through the blinds of the closet door and could just make out a figure cautiously moving into the room. The safe was just off to James' right and once the spy was by the safe he would be able to capture the spy without worry of alarming him.
James waited, his breath coming erratically, as the figure slowly moved through the room. He heard papers rustling on the governor's desk and the clink and rattle of a few heavier items being picked up, inspected, then set down again. Finally, the spy made it to the safe and James seized his opportunity.
"Stand aside." He aimed the pistol he'd been holding at the back of the spy's head. "You are being taken into custody with the charge of espionage against the British navy. Surrender peacefully and you will come to no harm. Understand that should you fight then you may very well die tonight."
He heard a chuckle, "Just as you have died Commodor Norrington?" James sucked in a breath when the spy turned and none other than Lord Cutler Beckett revealed himself. "Or is that not what you call yourself anymore? I know that I've had to adapt an alias to ensure my future survival and I can only assume that you've done the same." Beckett lowered his arms from where he'd initially held them up and gave James a smirk, or perhaps it was a smirk James wasn't sure. Beckett's face was horribly scarred and if he hadn't worked as closely as he had with the man before then he might not have recognized him. "So you've come to arrest me for espionage have you? What happens when the British navy finds out that you too are just as alive and well as I? Do you think they'd smile kindly upon you when you hand me over to them? Forgive you for deserting your post and faking your death?"
"How-" James' hand on the pistol shook a little but when Beckett looked at the shaking James swallowed and stood to his full height, willing his hand to stop its shaking. "Why are you betraying your country?"
Beckett smiled again, "Ah the partisan spiel. Ironic that it comes from a man who has abused his membership within said country for his own gains just as much as I. You were willing to sign away the lives of hundreds so that you could gain an ounce of respectability. Norrington, you should be well aware that life only rewards those who are willing to fight for what they want. The great empire of Britain was unwilling to fight for me, was unwilling to repay me for my sacrifices, and so I found myself in a unique position. I still want the same as I'd wanted before this," he pointed to his face and scarring, "but now I find that I'm able to acquire those things without having to march to someone else's tune. I dictate the terms of my desires and they are thus fulfilled." Beckett's smile turned darker. "I will not allow the likes of you to get in my way."
The man suddenly lunged at James before he had a chance to fire the pistol. Beckett's weight hit him full on in the chest and they both tumbled to the ground behind the governor's desk. Beckett settled himself on top of James' chest and wrapped his hands around James' neck. James bucked his hips and scratched at Beckett's face, the shock of the attack giving way to desperation for life. He was no longer wearing the pendant, having cut that from around his neck without a week of being in Tortuga. He could die now just as certainly as Becket.
With this in mind he reached out with his hand and laid hold of the fallen pistol. He whipped it up and smacked it into the side of Beckett's head. Momentarily stunned, Beckett fell to the side while James gasped in much needed air. He didn't wait much longer though, and rolled over to re initiate the fight with Beckett. Beckett was ready, however, and brought down a heavy object, something metallic from the feel of it, against James' own head and he found himself sprawled on his back once more, Beckett astride his chest, his hands again around his neck. James struggled against the nausea Beckett's blow had caused him just as he reached up to grasp Beckett's wrists. He began to see black spots and he felt his chest burn with the desire to breathe. He grip weakened and he wondered if this would in fact be the true end for him.
Beckett's hands went slack then and the man fell forward, covering James with his body. James pushed at him just as he felt someone else pull. Busy with gulping in air and coughing against the constriction that had once been around his neck he didn't take immediate notice of who his rescuer had been. When he felt hands smooth hair away from his face and poke at the knot Beckett had left behind and ghost over the skin of his neck, as if inspection, he knew it was not a man. He blinked away the tears that'd gathered in his eyes and focused on the figure kneeling beside him.
"We should stop meeting this way." Ashlynne was smiling despite the situation and it seemed a genuine one. She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and helped him sit up against the edge of the grand desk behind him. She looked over to the unconscious form of Beckett before looking back to him. "Would you care to explain this or should I jump to conclusions and make you jump out the window?"
James let out a strangled laugh. She was of course referring to the first time he'd nearly killed her, with the Forester's deaths. It was indeed morbidly amusing that the tables were now turned and he was at her mercy. Unlike what he'd done, she had not called for help nor had she made an attempt to restrain him. If anything she'd saved his life by rendering Beckett unconscious. When he looked to Beckett's side he saw a bronze statue and assumed that had been her weapon of choice.
"He is a spy for the Spanish navy." His throat hurt like hell and his voice was unstable because of that. "Parlan and I have orders to apprehend him for questioning."
"You've been working with Parlan?" James noticed that instead of the heavy lilt he'd come to associate with her she'd instead spoken with a hybrid mixture of the two. In addition, while she wore a proper gown for the evening he could see as she shifted to stand again that around her waist was a belt and to the belt she'd strapped two daggers; hybrid attire as well it seemed. She reached down to give him a hand up and he again marveled at her strength when she helped up him with ease.
"Yes." The world swayed momentarily when he first stood. "I didn't want to tell you right away though."
"Why?"
James scratched at the knot that was still growing on his head, "I wasn't sure how you'd feel, me working with your ex-partner, me still being linked to you in anyway. I was hoping that there'd come a time where I could tell you and not risk your ire," he glanced down at Beckett's still unmoving body and sighed, "though I'm grateful you found out this way if only it means I get to live to see your ire."
There were voices by the door and Ashlynne looked to James a split second before the doors began to open. Without warning she threw herself against him and kissed him. Her eyes remained open as he felt her arms wrap around his body, one going up to cradle his head while the other somehow found its way between his footman's jacket and his blouse, bunching up the material as she pulled her hand upwards against his lower back. Without having to say a word he understood what she was doing and so decided to not only play along, but also enjoy the moment as he could. He too wrapped his arms around her, crushing her against his body, and for good measure brought one of her legs up to his waist and prompted her to hook her ankle around his thigh. He angled his head to the side to deepen the kiss and was surprised when she let him, either for show or a mutual desire he wasn't sure and found he didn't care.
"Oh." He heard the governor's voice behind him and ducked his head down while pushing away from Ashlynne as a footman would if caught in such a situation. "I didn't know this room was already occupied. I hope my footman hasn't been forcing unwanted attentions upon you Mistress Fitzpatrick."
James kept his head down and so didn't see Ashlynne's face when she breathily replied, "On the contrary, Governor, it was a most welcome diversion. I had no intention of taking your study away from you, though, if you wish us to relocate."
"Oh no you're fine my dear," James could hear amusement in the man's voice, "I was merely wishing to steal away for a little dalliance myself." He then heard a high pitched giggle and could only assume what sort of woman the governor had by his side. "You seem to have beat me to it. Those British fops are being entertained by your friend Mister Parlan in the parlor and promised me a goodly amount of time before I'd be required again. Perhaps he relayed the same information to you?"
"Yes, he did actually." Ashlynne let out a breathy laugh. "Perhaps we'd best bid our adieus to one another if we wish to take full advantage of this break."
The governor let out another chuckle, "You are a most intriguing woman. It is a shame we never met in my younger days." The door clicked shut then and they were left alone, with the still unconscious Beckett.
"We'll need ropes if we're going to lower him out the window." James looked up to see Ashlynne's face, a contemplative frown turning her lips downward as she looked around the room. "Your coat and blouse and my petticoats could get him close enough to the ground to avoid major injury."
"You intend to help me?" James asked as he watched her begin to reach up under her gown's outskirt. He turned to afford her some privacy but stopped when he felt her hand on his arm. She turned him back to face her and he watched in fascination, and building desire, as she again pulled up the gown.
"I'll need your help getting out of these things." She stepped closer and after a moment of tense silence, turned and offered him access to the stays at the back of her petticoats.
His hands shook as they had before when confronting Beckett but this was for an entirely different reason. Ashlynne stood less than an arm's length away from him and he keenly felt the difference between them. Somewhere between her saving his life, his explanation of his activities, and their "pretend" kiss she'd decided on her opinion of him. From the way that she stood, patient and trusting before him, and the way that she'd spoken after the governor had left, he knew that he'd found an ally within her, if not the possibility for more.
His finger tips barely brushed against the skin of her lower back as he finally undid the last stay and the petticoats pooled on the floor by her ankles. She wore pantaloons as well but there was a gap between where the pantaloons hung low on her hips and where her undershirt and corset ended. Unable to stop himself, James traced his finger tips over the soft skin of her sides between the two fabrics and was surprised when Ashlynne dropped the fabric of her gown, barring him from further exploration, only to turn around to face him again. She made no further move other than to study his face, her eyes full of warmth but also apprehension. James reached forward and smoothed one of his hands around the curve of her hips and tugged her forward more, until their bodies were flush together, while with the other hand he reached up and brushed the back of his knuckles against her cheek.
"James." Her voice was husky when she spoke and he found his desire increased from the sound of his name upon her lips. "We don't have time for this now."
He smiled but before he answered he leaned down and pressed his lips against the corner of her mouth, "Not now you say?"
"No," she brought her hands up and placed them on his chest between them, "not now. In case you've forgotten, your prisoner is on the floor behind me in need of proper disposal."
James chuckled and let go, though he loathed to lose the newfound intimacy she seemed willing to share with him. "Very well." He pulled off his jack and his blouse too. "But only as long as you promise we will explore what's happened here at a later time."
She blushed and after a moment nodded her consent. They worked quickly then, to fashion a makeshift rope and opened the window of the governor's study. First James would climb down then Ashlynne would loop the rope through the railing of the balcony and James would help lower Beckett once Ashlynne tied the other end to the man. Before he stepped over the railing, James leaned back in and stole a quick kiss from Ashlynne, giving her a bright smile when he saw her uncharacteristically blush in response.
Getting down for himself was easy but lowering the dead weight of Beckett proved taxing and he had to stow both himself and Beckett in the bushes for a few moments so that he could catch his breath. He would take Beckett to the safe house, in the mountains on the other side of the island, and wait for Parlan to return. Then he was going to find Ashlynne and explore fully whatever it was she was willing to offer him now.