Author's note: Hey, y'all! Yes, it is I, the maniac Jack/Anamaria writer, turning to other avenues of POTC fiction! Dun-dun-DUN!
I don't have an OC (well, I might have to have a few minor ones, but no MAIN OC)! Instead, I took a very small part in the movie and made her a star, and took a poor under-appreciated supporting actor type and made him leading man, whoo! It will be fun, I hope. Lots of fluff-ish hints at first. Please review! I love reviews! ^_^ Thank you! *bows and exits the stage*
*runs back on* Oh yes! Estrella is the maid! I saw her name on imdb.com. Just so you know! *runs off again*
Chapter One: An Unwelcome Surprise
Estrella was already unhappy that afternoon; this was made plain by her over-vigorous scrubbing of the dishes and her relish in slamming them down as she prepared the tea. She'd been in a mood all week, in fact, ever since she first heard the rumors (which were unfortunately confirmed) that Elizabeth Swann had jilted Norrington and was set to marry Will Turner as soon as possible.
"Some people just get everything, don't they?" Estrella grumbled, slapping a saucer onto the tray she was preparing. She was referencing Elizabeth, having conveniently forgotten that the young lady in question had been almost slain by bloodthirsty pirates, and remembering instead Miss Swann's excessive wardrobe and coveted young escort.
Coveted, to be specific, by Estrella herself, who'd set her cap for Will Turner from the moment she saw him. She'd just started working in the governor's house, and he stopped by with a delivery of horseshoes from the blacksmith, a rather scrawny fourteen-year-old at the time. He'd smiled and nodded to her, and her pre-adolescent heart had fluttered. But it been made abundantly clear over the years that Will's heart fluttered only for Elizabeth, who put up a front of ladylike indifference which had given Estrella a little hope.
But now the last hope was crushed, and to top it all off, someone was knocking at the door, ten minutes before the guests for tea were expected.
Ever since the demise of the butler, Estrella was expected to answer the door (not a very reassuring task, after the things she'd seen during the pirate attack), so she hastily assembled the tea tray and rushed out to the front hall at a rather dangerous speed, considering her heavy burden of fine china.
She dumped the tray on the front table and swung the heavy front door open, hoping she didn't look too deranged after her mad dash.
It was Norrington, looking stiff and proper and overly punctual as always. "Good afternoon."
"Good afternoon, sir." She curtsied in a rather bored manner. "Follow me, please, sir." She snatched up the tray and led him up to the parlor where the Governor usually received visitors. Will and Elizabeth, who'd annoyingly traipsed before her very eyes just a few hours earlier, were presumably in Elizabeth's private sitting room, engaging in some form of courting activities that she didn't want to know about.
When she opened the parlor door, she received a nasty surprise. Will and Elizabeth, instead of being in the sitting room as expected, were perched on the settee by the window, kissing rather passionately. She shrieked and stopped dead in her tracks, the interrupted pair jumped and pulled apart, and Norrington, not expecting her sudden halt, crashed into her, sending the dishes clattering to the floor. They flew into pieces, and she shrieked again, kneeling down to scoop the shards together and try to stop the hot tea stain from spreading.
"Wait, be careful!" Norrington cried, leaning down as well, but his warning was too late. An angry sliver of teacup had already cut the palm of her hand, and her attempts to clean up proved in vain, as she only added to the mess with her bleeding hand.
Will and Elizabeth had leapt up off the couch and were cautiously attempting to remedy the chaos as well. Norrington grabbed Estrella's gushing hand. "Here, let me see." She was startled by how soft his touch was; she'd danced with Will at a tavern once, and his hands were rough and callused. Before she knew what was happening, Norrington whipped an impossibly white handkerchief out of his pocket and began wrapping it around the cut. To her annoyance, she felt tears welling up in her eyes. The wound didn't hurt much, but the surprise that had indirectly caused it had.
She sniffled, hoping no one would notice her distress, but Norrington, who was still cradling her hand, apparently had. "Are you all right?"
She nodded, sniffing back more sobs and sounding, she decided, like a snuffling pig. Norrington was staring at her with concern, which surprised her, as she'd always considered him to be about as sympathetic and emotional as a block of wood.
"I need… to get… a cloth," she choked out, yanking her hand out of his and running out of the room and toward the kitchen as fast as possible. Once she'd reached the kitchen (fortunately empty of the cook, who had gone to market before dinner), she let herself go to pieces.
It was one thing to see Will and Elizabeth walking around and exchanging adoring glances, and quite another to walk in on them practically mauling each other. Despite her belief that her last hope had been crushed, she apparently still had some little scrap of optimism that had just died, as well.
She covered her face with her hands, getting a noseful of a peculiar scent that lingered on Norrington's now-crimson handkerchief. It smelled kind of good, actually. She flipped her hand over and pressed the unstained side of the cloth to her nose. Very good.
For some reason, she felt kind of comforted, and after splashing a little water on her face, she felt adequate to the miserable task of going back to the parlor. She carried a pile of cloths up with her, and set to work cleaning up the mess the instant she entered the parlor, not wanting to look up at any of the people who had just witnessed her less-than-composed behavior.
When she had at last sopped up the tea and gathered the broken glass on the tray, she was forced to glance upward at least for a moment. Will and Elizabeth had retired to the settee again, and Norrington stood uncomfortably a few feet away. She looked up just in time to see his profile as he watched the pair; his face was an odd mixture of annoyance and deep sadness.
I wonder if I look like that when I see them, she though, realizing that he must have felt some of the same things she did when they stumbled in upon the scene. It had been plain, despite his rather wooden disposition, that he'd had deep feelings for Elizabeth.
Norrington looked at her just then, but instead of being embarrassed that he'd caught her staring, she gave him an encouraging smile. Poor thing, we both got thrown over, I'd say, she thought maternally, and he smiled back and gave her a little nod. She wondered if he knew the real reason she'd been crying; she pondered this for a moment, and decided that even if he did, she didn't mind. Surely he'd understand, perhaps better than anyone!
A/N: Well, what do you think? Tell me, and I'll work on the next chapter if anyone wants it!