Governor's House was alive with light and music, the cream of Port Royale's society turning out to wish their steadfast Commodore Norrington the very best of married life. It had been one of the fastest courtships the port had known, James arriving back only a month before this day. All agreed the bride had been radiant, though a little exclusionist to those who felt they should have played a more prominent role in the wedding preparations. In fact, Laura had ignored all the not-so-subtle hints from the young women of the town - who had only begun to befriend her in the wake of the Commodore's return - and had forced Marin to assist Elizabeth and her mother in every detail.

She stood close to her husband, one hand entwined with his, as they had been almost every moment since the priest had placed her hand in James'. He smiled down at her, and she felt herself blush prettily, feeling the possessiveness of his gaze with joy. He had changed in the months they had been apart, but she did not find it strange at all. Quicker to feel than he had been before, James had captivated her all over again, not allowing her a moment to doubt his love for her. Commodore Norrington very rarely came between them, only when their privacy was intruded upon.

'Tired, love?' James murmured, nodding agreeably to some townsman who raised his glass in salute to the couple.

She smiled, her eyes downcast for a moment as she fought the urge to blush again.

'A little, perhaps,' she said softly. 'It has been a long day.'

James' smile turned wicked for a split second, his eyes twinkling as he lifted her chin.

'It promises to be a longer night,' he whispered, smothering her gasp of surprise with a soft kiss.

Yes, Laura thought as she let herself be gathered into his arms, there was no doubt whom Commodore Norrington had spent the past half year with. Only Jack Sparrow's influence could have drawn out such a wickedly loving man from behind that cold facade.

A polite cough intruded on the moment, and they broke away from one another to see Captain Gillette, looking everywhere but at them. James quickly suppressed a laugh, gently squeezing his bride's hand as she tensed on seeing her former suitor. Composing his features into a polite expression, he spoke to his officer.

'Captain, thank you for coming.'

Gillette's smile was wide and genuine, his eyes lighting up in the way that many do on seeing real love personified before them. He shook James' hand firmly.

'I wouldn't have missed it for the world, sir,' he said heartily. 'Congratulations to you both, and many years of happiness to share.'

Surprised by this out-pouring of real pleasure, Laura curtsied gently, allowing him a kiss on her cheek with a smile.

'Thank you, Captain Gillette,' she smiled.

He returned the smile with no trace of jealousy or longing, nodding to them both before bowing to take his leave of them. As he turned to go, James reached out to stop him, leaning down to say something that Laura didn't quite catch. Gillette laughed, glancing back at her before nodding again to his superior.

'No, sir,' he said cheerfully. 'The best man won.'

And with that, he slipped back into the crowd, leaving the newly-wed couple to exchange pleasantly surprised smiles as yet another swarm of guests descended on them to offer congratulations and best wishes.

It was agreed that young Matthew Turner had been the true star of the day, exclaimed over and indiscriminately indulged by all who had attended. He was still very shy of this colourful, complicated world his parents had brought him back to, staying close to his grandfather for most of the day. Governor Swann believed his grandson's spirits would have drooped considerably, had it not been for the pirates present throughout the day. Gibbs, in particular, had been instrumental in providing chaos for the little boy to enjoy, coming out with some of the most absurd comments and cultures the governor had ever heard. Still, it was harmless fun, even if he would have to soothe a few ruffled feathers during the next few days.

He glanced across the gathering, his gaze falling on a man who, a year before, he would never have permitted to even approach the island, let alone share an evening in his home. Jack Sparrow had refused to undergo his transformation into the respectable merchant once more, though Marin had insisted that he let her mend his shirt and coat before he even attempted to convince her that he could appear at such an elite gathering. The hint of an amused smile twitched at the governor's lips as he recalled the argument that had echoed through the old house the night before. Something to do with leaving him if he appeared in public unwashed, was the general consensus, though no one had even mentioned the subject when next they saw the couple.

Still, Governor Swann could not find it in himself to dislike the pirate, who had done so much to redeem himself over the past year. Especially now, seeing him so much at ease with those who would wish him dead in other circumstances. Besides, with Marin by his side, who would dare to question the honour of Captain Jack Sparrow? The governor watched as the young woman in question slipped through the crowd to her husband's side, nodding in greeting to those who tried to slow her passage. The smile that had threatened to slip onto his face did so finally, as Jack wrapped an arm about his wife's back, pulling her close to kiss her forehead and run a loving hand over the swell of her waistline.

Now there was something that would be worth following. The next generation of Jack Sparrow, be it male or female, would certainly have an act to follow. Particularly if the fascination young Matthew seemed to hold with the encroaching bump did not fade with the birth. Governor Swann was not a religious man, but he was not one to underestimate gods, especially those capable of sustaining such life as Barbossa's crew could have been accused of having. If the heathen gods were appeased, it was all well and good, but Swann held a suspicion that they still had a role to play in the fortunes of his family and friends.

Jack grinned down at his young wife, admiring how at home she seemed in such a social setting. The wearing of a dress was the only concession the other women had wrung out of her, letting her red locks hang down across her back as she wished just this once. The baby moved under his hand, his gaze drawn down to watch the fabric of her skirt move with it, across her belly under his hand.

'Doesn't it hurt, when it does that?' he asked curiously, still awed by the little things that affected Marin during her pregnancy. He was fairly certain he never wanted to experience the horror that her morning sickness had been, though the sitting up late at night talking when she couldn't sleep would be sorely missed when things settled again.

Marin laughed softly, gently running her hand over her womb in an attempt to settle the child.

'No,' she told him. 'It feels a little strange, I'll admit, but I'm so used to it now, I hardly notice.'

Jack's smile was almost childlike in its wondering gaze, and Marin felt the shock of knowing something that her husband did not. She was constantly astounded that everything about their child was new and intriguing for him, when before he had known all there was to know about the world and its ways. Now she was the experienced one, guiding him through this new wonder, and trying not to look ahead to the moment when all her strength and will would be tested. God only knew how Jack would deal with what promised to be a trying time for them both.

'Ah well,' Jack was saying casually. 'It's a Sparrow, like us. Good at doing things un-noticed.'

His dark eyes twinkled in enjoyment as she laughed, still as pleased to be able to draw laughter from his serious little wife as he had been in the early months of their companionship. There were so many cares in her life, so many worries now that she had brought upon herself, that sometimes he despaired of ever leading the life he longed for, out on the open seas, his wife and child beside him.

This safe haven for pirates was a wonderful idea, there was no doubt of that, but the preparations for it were taking more of a toll on Marin than she was prepared to admit. But he knew. He knew about the provisioners refusing to trade with her, the stonemasons making life difficult on the little island where they had been contracted to work, the pirates themselves and their families demanding more and more every day. Marin had made these people her own, and in doing so had given herself more trouble than she could ever have expected. And some day soon, he was going to do something about that.

In fact, they had received information only that morning that something was amiss on the island, of arguments and fights making the work slow down even further. A young girl had made her way to Port Royale, determined to make sure that Marin knew exactly what was going on there. According to her, the former overseer of Robert Delaney's plantation, a Mr Thomas Redman, was not happy about the loss of his job and had enlisted his former employees to help him retain it, and his reign over the little island. Marin had insisted that they go out there and deal with it themselves, furious that something she was trying to do for other peoples' safety was being tampered with and slowed for no good reason. Jack had tried to talk her out of it, but she was adamant. Despite being so close to her time, she was not prepared to let this farce go on any longer.

In the morning they would leave, the Turners joining them with the Red Dragon, to investigate this new obstacle that had beset the islanders. Will had insisted, though Jack had a fair idea who had persuaded him. Elizabeth hovered over Marin almost constantly now, determined to be at the birth of his child, as Marin had been at Matthew's. If Marin were to grow wings and fly off around the world in the next few days, Jack was certain Mrs Turner would propel herself by any means necessary in pursuit. As a matter of fact, so would he, but then, what man would leave his wife unattended so close to such a time?

Across the room, Elizabeth dragged her attention from the Sparrows in an attempt to concentrate on something Lieutenant Groves' wife was saying. The woman was having a good old rant about something, but the governor's daughter had managed to miss most of it through her observation of her pregnant friend.

'I'm sure I'm not being particular,' Therese was saying, blissfully unaware of her audience's lack of attention, 'but somewhere this has to be dealt with. We can't have people of her kind mixing with those of higher breeding, after all. Don't you think?'

Elizabeth blinked, suddenly aware that she was now expected to answer.

'I'm sorry, who?' she asked, stepping forward slightly.

Therese Groves gave her an indulgent smile.

'Why, Jack Sparrow's woman, of course,' she said, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world. 'I understand that she is the commodore's cousin and all, but somewhere along the line he has to break with her. Indeed, his standing in society will be affected by his continued association with her.'

With an immense effort, Elizabeth endeavoured to remain calm, drawing in a deep breath to aid her before answering.

'Why should his standing be affected?' she inquired, perversely wanting her companion to make everything blindingly clear before she began to defend her friend.

'My dear Elizabeth, she is a pirate,' Therese told her, in such a condescending tone that Elizabeth's teeth began to grind together in irritation. 'And a pirate's whore, to boot. Of course, she has chosen well in her man, but really, can we have the commodore of Fort Charles openly admitting his relations with such people?'

Elizabeth straightened slowly, her manner growing cold as she looked on a woman she had once thought her friend.

'Mrs Groves, I think you will find your information is flawed,' she said icily. 'Marin is no whore. She was married to Captain Sparrow a little over nine months ago, in a small ceremony that your husband attended. The child she carries is legitimate, and any acts of piracy that she has committed have been pardoned. Her bloodline is pure, in your terms; she is the daughter of a noble Irish house, and therefore on a par with the commodore himself. As for breaking with her, I rather feel that is up to James, and certainly has nothing to do with you.'

Therese stared at her, shocked.

'Well, I -'

'And on those lines,' Elizabeth continued, cutting across the indignant exclamation, 'perhaps you should not be seen speaking with me. I am, after all, the wife of a lowly blacksmith and pirate, the mother of his son. Or does that not make me a pirate's whore as well?'

The hapless woman's mouth worked, trying to find a way out of the cavern she had dug for herself with a few badly chosen words. As she struggled for words, Elizabeth nodded coldly to her, and turned away, moving to join her aunt where she stood a few paces from them. Lady Rosemary favoured Therese with a single hard look, and also turned her back, allowing her to smile unashamedly.

'Nicely done, my dear.'

*~*~*

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