-Little Miracles-

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. Nothing directly from the movie, anyway.

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Chapter 4

Once everyone was gone, Gillette looked over at Lily and James. "I truly am sorry for cutting you, James. I had meant to have an excuse to bring Mary Kate here so you could ask if she would give Lily her bath, but you'd already done it yourself by the time I'd returned."

James gave him a tired smile and waved it off. "Don't worry about it this time, Nathan. I trust you made certain the governor won't return in a panic, though?"

"Oh, yes. You've no need to worry about that, now." He quickly finished his stew.

James wasn't quite sure he liked how his friend looked when he said that, but decided to ignore it. He merely nodded and moved Lily's bowl back and began wiping up her mess with her napkin before she fell asleep in it. He sighed. "What do you make of this whole mess?"

"Well, I think you're cleaning it up quite admirably, James, but you missed a spot right there by her bowl," he answered innocently.

James chuckled lightly. "You know what I meant. What would you do if the whole matter were up to you?"

Nathan grew pensive for a brief moment. "I would do whatever you are planning to do, I'd wager."

"That's no answer. And at the moment, I have no plan."

"That is because you have worked too hard these last few months, and are tired. And you didn't let me finish on what I would do."

James raised an eyebrow. "Then please, by all means, continue."

Gillette gave him a curt nod. "As I was saying, I would likely do something similar to whatever you will eventually end up doing, and I would take at least half of tomorrow to myself and don't interrupt me on this. You wanted my opinion, and I am giving it to you.

"James, you haven't used any of your entitled leave for at least the last six years and probably haven't voluntarily taken any before that. You truly need a break. Besides, it would give you a chance to purchase some clothes for Lily, which I can see she sorely needs." James nodded, seeing his point. "And, to be honest, I wouldn't place her with anyone else but yourself." He held up a finger forestalling James's comments. Lily perked up considerably, staring at the lieutenant. "She's only been here half a day, but it's obvious you two are already quite attached to each other."

James gave him a puzzled look. "What do you mean?"

"She's good for you, James. You laughed, I heard you. You smiled. You joked around more this afternoon than you have since you were last promoted."

James thought back over the recent months, paying more attention to how others might perceive he had acted. "Have I truly been so different?"

"You've been much the same, yet quite different," Gillette said, pausing as if to organize his thoughts. "The same in that duty and what's right has top priority, but different with the men, with your friends. You're far too serious of late, James."

Thoughts churned and swirled though his head, which only made his forming headache worse. "If I were to take leave tomorrow—and I'm not saying I am—can I trust that everything will be taken care of?"

"James, stop worrying so much. It will be no different than you going out on patrol. The only difference is that you're not going out on the ship. You won't have to do a single thing at the fort, and it is only for one day."

"The only problem I see with your reasoning is that it won't quite be like my being gone on patrol. Captain Teasdale is out at sea, as are the other captains. Who will fill in for me?"

Gillette's expression changed to one that suggested he hadn't thought of that. "So that was a bad analogy. But I could, I suppose. I am your first officer on the Dauntless, after all."

"Could you truly handle it?"

"Why certainly! How hard could it be? Surely it's much like running a ship," Gillette answered.

James nodded blithely. "It is, and it isn't. I'll come in for the first half of the day, I think. That way, I can get the reports and dispatches done for you."

"James, did you ever come in for half a day when you were sick or wounded? Treat tomorrow as one of those days, instead, and don't worry about anything. Trust us. We'll make certain everything gets done."

"But—" James began, but stopped when a sudden stab of pain lanced across his temple.

Gillette cocked his head to the side and leaned toward the older man. "James, are you well?"

"Of course I am," he said, though he sounded weary, even to his own ears. He leaned his head back against his chair.

"No, you're not. Even I can see that you aren't."

"Then why did you ask?"

"Because I wanted to see what you would say," Gillette answered wryly. "And before you ask, I knew because I've known you for several years now. Besides, you turned white on me." Gillette paused, debating. "And you winced a bit."

"I'll be fine by morning."

"James, please. As a friend concerned for your health, I am asking you to please take a day of leave tomorrow. You need it. Badly."

"But—"

Gillette ignored the interruption. "If nothing else, think of your command, and the men. We need you at your best, and you won't be at your best if you don't rest at least occasionally. No one would think less of you."

Lily chose that moment to wiggle down off of the stack of pillows to the floor. As James and the lieutenant tried to stare each other down, she scrambled up into his lap causing James to break his gaze first to look down. He sighed heavily then looked to the walls on his left. "Very well, Nathan. You win."

Gillette smiled, but it was not one of victory, nor was it smug in any way. "Thank you, James. You get some rest. I'll just leave now. And don't worry; if anything serious comes up, you'll be the first person I send for," he said, getting up.

James got up as well and the two walked to the front entryway. "I'll try, Nathan, but I can't promise anything."

Upon reaching the front door, Gillette donned his hat. "That's all I ask. Good night, James."  He then stepped into Lily's line of vision. "Good night, Lily."

She squirmed to hide slightly. This time, it was more in a bashful manner than fearful. "Good night, Mister Lieutenant," she replied softly.

Nathan chuckled a bit, then grasped and kissed the back of her small hand. "Pleasant dreams, Little One." She ducked her head against James' shoulder, though she still peeked at the younger man.

"Good night, Nathan," James said. Gillette gave a short nod, his expression saying not to worry about tomorrow, then slipped out into the darkening evening. Lily yawned. "I think it time to put sleepy little girls to bed. What do you think?" he said to her.

Lily only dropped her head against his shoulder. He then turned toward the stairs and made his way up to the rooms. By now, his head was near the point of pounding terribly and he knew that only getting to sleep would be accomplished tonight. He was glad, though, as he didn't want to do anything else.

As the two reached the top of the stairs, a bolt of lightning flashed through the drapes and thunder shook the house, rattling the windows. The clouds that had gathered earlier in the day now released their fury on the port. Lily jolted at the sudden, loud boom, and pressed slightly closer, but otherwise seemed to tolerate the rather mild storm. Either that, or she was simply too tired to really notice it.

"Lily, this door leads to my bed chambers. If you need anything at all during the night, don't hesitate to come to me, all right?" he asked as they passed his door. He came to the next one over on the left. "Here is your room, right next to mine." He opened the door and found Cecil had turned down the covers on the rather large bed. He had also started a small fire in the room's fireplace to ward off the slight chill.

James carried her into the room watching her look around, particularly at the bed, with something not unlike awe. He set her down when she squirmed. She walked around slowly, approaching the bed almost apprehensively. She stopped within arms' length of the edge and looked back at him with an uncertain expression. "This for me?"

"It is."

"Everything?"

"The entire room is yours for now, yes."

Her face lit up brilliantly. "Really?"

James chuckled. "Yes. Come now," he said, scooping her back up, "it is time to sleep. Tomorrow, we have much to do." He lay her down in the middle of the bed, uncertain if he should worry about her rolling off and into the floor while she slept.

Another bolt of lightning flashed, but it was much further away than the first one had been. He glanced at the window, then back at Lily to see if the storm might affect her, but found the child's eyes were already half-closed again. He smiled warmly as he drew the covers up, tucking her in. He brushed her curls aside and smoothed out the blanket. "Remember, my room is right next door, should you need me in the night. Sweet dreams, Lily."

Lily gave a mighty yawn. "G'night, James." Her eyes closed and he crept back out of the room, looking her over one last time at the doorway.

He pulled the door to, but didn't completely shut it, then walked to his own room. Once within those walls, he finally allowed himself to try and remedy his headache. He knew, however, that the best thing he could do was take Gillette's advice and sleep.

James dressed for bed quickly, his wig carefully replaced on its stand on the dresser. He wore a loose-fitting pair of pants and an older shirt, having gained the habit and desire of being prepared should any emergency or attack come in the middle of the night. It shaved off some time in getting decent enough before running out and was easier to fight in, if necessary, than the long nightshirts so many other men typically wore.

He crawled into bed, relishing in the softness of the pillow and allowed his eyes to weigh themselves shut. His last conscious thought was that he was glad Gillette had talked him into taking a day of leave.

It was mere hours later, however, when something pulled James from his deep slumber. Frowning, he leaned up on his elbow and listened. It was several minutes before he heard a child's voice cry out "No!" Confused, he tried to clear the remaining fog of sleep from his mind, then remembered Lily.

Throwing back his covers, he sprang from the bed and rushed for her room grabbing a sword on his way out. Thoughts of an intruder in his home flew through his mind. His imagination, spurred by grisly memories from his years in the navy, conjured many terrifying images. Though it was unimaginable that anyone should enter his home, it was not impossible. He only hoped he could get to Lily in time. He shuddered to think of what might happen to her if he couldn't.

Pushing her door open, he found her struggling against the covers twisted around her small body. "Momma?" she was asking. "Momma!" Her face became frightened in her sleep. "Papa, no! I'll be good, I promise!"

Nightmares.

It hadn't even occurred to him that her sleep might be troubled with terrors sometimes found in sleep. She was such a sweet child, once she trusted you. But then, he remembered, she did have scars resembling those from a flogging—or perhaps having a leather strap taken to her—on her back.

James dropped his sword and rushed forward to wake her just as she began screaming, caught in whatever world her dreams had taken her. "Lily! Lily, wake up!" he called as she began thrashing around at her dream's phantoms. He smoothed her hair from her face, "Lily! Open your eyes! It's just a dream!" He gathered her into his arms and held her tightly as she began trying to bite herself, undoubtedly to silence her own screams. "Lily, wake up! You're safe!"

Jacob and Cecil rushed into the room just them, their movement and the candles they carried catching his eye. He didn't look up, though. "What's happening?" Jacob asked.

"Night terrors. I can't wake her. One of you fetch some water! Quickly!" Cecil rushed from the room, having forgotten to fill the pitcher there earlier. "Jacob, will you prepare some of that tea you gave me when I was a child?"

"Aye. I'll run and get it going." He, too, left the room.

A bolt of lightning stuck particularly close, the following thunder exploding seemingly louder than a cannon. Lily jolted awake and, with eyes still glazed from her nightmare, wriggled free and to the floor on the other side of the bed. She pressed herself into the nearest corner and curled into a ball. "Lily?" he asked, deeply concerned. She was visibly shaking as violent tremors gripped her. "Lily? It's safe here. It was just a nightmare."

He approached her slowly, cautiously, but she whimpered and tried to withdraw further. "Lily, it's me, James. I promise nothing will harm you here." He tried to approach again, and was again stopped as she began rocking back and forth with only pitiful…well…whines, was the only word he could think of…emanating from her.

He glanced around, feeling rather helpless and noticed the room was dark. The fire had long died away, and no one had yet lit any candles in their rush. He also noticed that Cecil had returned with the now-unneeded water. "Cecil, light some candles, please." James then grabbed a blanket from a nearby wardrobe, frantic to stop her tremors. As Cecil set about his task, James again approached Lily, this time speaking softly, much as one might coax a frightened horse. "Lily, look at me, please. I want to help you. I'll not hurt you. I promise."

Lily shook her head, though he didn't know if she had truly heard him or not. She kept her head down. "I promise I'll be good, Papa. I didn't mean to leave my blanket there," she whimpered.

"Lily," he said, more forcefully. "Lily, look at me. Your father is not here, child. You're safe." He managed to get close enough to touch her arm with the light, soft-woven fabric.

At that light touch, she finally looked up, startled. Her eyes lost that glazed look and she finally looked to be aware of her surroundings. She leapt into his arms with a sob, and he instantly wrapped the blanket and his arms around her. "She wouldn't move!" she cried. "After Papa left, I tried to get her up. I even threw water on her. It didn't work."

"Oh, Lily," he breathed, tightening his hold on her.

She began sobbing then, relaying what he feared were memories she had likely relived in her sleep. "Papa was so mad. I didn't mean to leave the blanket on his chair, honest, I didn't! He…he was coming after me an'…an' he was yelling an' Momma came in front…of me. He hit her!" she wailed.

James began rocking her back and forth. Her shaking finally began calming somewhat. "Then, what?" he asked gently. He could remember a few times when he had had particularly bad nightmares as a child. Telling his grandfather or Jacob had always seemed to make it a little better.

"He…he kept hitting her an'…an' hitting her. She was bleeding…badder than when I fell in the streets…an'…" she began sobbing even harder.

"What did he do, Lily?" he asked quietly. He couldn't deny that it was also his own curiosity that spurred his questions as well. He truly wanted to help her, but to do so, he needed desperately to know what had happened. He needed to know what kind of help she needed.

Lily buried her head into his shoulder, gripping his shirt near the neckline fiercely. "He…" her voice failed as she cried in earnest. James rubbed her back, trying to calm her back down before she made herself sick. "He…he threw her at the wall really hard!" she finished after a few moments.

James squeezed his eyes shut against the burning tears that threatened as Lily continued crying. "Oh, Lily," he rasped, then pressed a kiss to the top of her head. To see her mother killed before her eyes… His already growing anger toward her father increased; transformed into an ice-cold thing. He wanted nothing more than to inflict as much pain as he could on the man, but he quickly buried those sentiments and thoughts as deeply as he could. Right now, it would do more harm than good, should Lily see it, and he was determined she would not be frightened by his hand if he could help it.

"She wouldn't move," Lily whimpered again. "She wouldn't move so they put her in a box an' now I can't see her." Her crying calmed a little, but not for long. "I want my momma back!" she howled. Her sobbing renewed at a seemingly stronger force.

James' grip tightened again. "I know you do, Lily. I know you do." He glanced up with tear-filled eyes at Cecil and Jacob, who had just returned to catch the last of the conversation. He could see, even from that distance in the dim light, that both men were angry. He shook his head at them, hoping they understood that anger had no place here right now. It might only scare her more, and he certainly didn't want to do that. It was only his sadness for what Lily was going through and mostly his experience in command that kept him from showing and feeling his own anger.

Her trembling finally stopped completely, and her tears were only now beginning to slow, but her grasp on his shirt did not lessen. Carefully, he stood, then sat on the bed. Jacob came forward with her drink. James waited until her sobbing turned to hiccups, then took the cup. "Would you like a little something to drink, Lily?" She nodded and twisted around to grasp it with the hand not clinging to his shirt. It seemed he would have to help her, as she simply would not relinquish her grip, and couldn't hope to hold the cup securely with her small hand.

"Careful, now," Jacob said. "It's still a bit warm."

She drank her fill of what James could smell was actually just plain tea, then pushed the cup away sniffling. "Cecil, do you have a handkerchief?" James asked.

"One moment, Sir. I'll get one."

James waited for Cecil to return, and kept Lily from wiping her nose on her sleeves or his shirt. Her hiccups had abated somewhat, especially after the tea, but she was still plagued by them. When the butler did return, James took the offered handkerchief and held it to her nose. "Here, blow." She did so, several times, and James wiped away what he could until he was satisfied it wouldn't bother her anymore for a while. "There's a good girl."

She rubbed her face against his shoulder and settled down. She didn't move, and he could tell she was drained, but sleep just wouldn't seem to reclaim her yet. He tried to settle her back into her bed, but every time he moved to leave, her as-yet unrelenting grip on his shirt tightened. Finally, it became obvious to him that he would sleep either in his own bed or hers, but it would not be alone.

Knowing this, he scooped her back up and moved her over. "Thank you for your help, Jacob, Cecil. You are free to go back to bed, now, if you wish. I am returning to bed myself, and…"

"Aye, James, we know. If you need anything…" Jacob said.

"I know. And thank you both again."

Both waved it off. "Goodnight, Sir," Cecil said.

"Goodnight, James-lad," Jacob said at the same time.

"Good night, Gentlemen." James then turned his attention back to Lily as the two pulled the door shut behind them. She squirmed around a bit, trying to get comfortable with a rather large yawn. He watched her several moments, wondering when she would settle down to go back to sleep. Finally, her eyes began to droop even more, but then she squirmed around, as if trying to wake up again. "Lily, do you not want to go back to sleep?"

"No," she said, shaking her head adamantly. "They'll come back. I don't want them to come back."

"I know you don't, Lily, but you also need to sleep. You don't wish to be so tired you cannot pick new dresses tomorrow, do you?"

She looked up at him with wide eyes, then slowly shook her head. "But I don't want to see that again," she whimpered. "I don't like seeing Momma like that."

"What if I said I shall stay here with you and try my best to keep the hurtful memories away?"

"Will you really?"

"I will."

"Promise?"

"I promise. Would you like a story to help you sleep?" She nodded. "Very well. But you'll have to stay still. No squirming around trying to stay awake, all right? I will be right here should your nightmares return."

"Do I have to stay still?"

"Yes, you do, Lily. You need sleep if you want to be able to stay up tomorrow. Come now, get comfortable and I'll tell you a story." He waited patiently as she squirmed around and fussed with the bedcovers several minutes. Finally, she settled down in a position on his lap in which she leaned against him in the most comfortable-looking fashion, but James himself felt quite uncomfortable. He felt slightly pinned as any movement he made could disrupt her comfort. "Are you ready, now?" She nodded.

He wrapped his arms around her small frame. "Once, long ago, there lived a great giant named Goliath. Goliath of Gath was what he was sometimes called, for Gath was the name of the town where he was born. He was the largest giant who ever lived. His arms were as strong as iron bands, and he was almost as tall as a tree. He wore a suit of heavy mail and armor and wherever he went, someone always carried his shield before him…" he began, keeping his voice in a soothing tone that he hoped would lull her to sleep.

As he continued the story, he kept an eye on the child in his arms. "…David took a stone from his bag and whirled it in his sling, hurling the stone at Goliath. It hit him in the head, proving that even the smallest of people can defeat the biggest." Lily's eyes finally closed, her breathing having evened out near the beginning of his story.

As he waited for her sleep to deepen enough that he could shift positions without waking her, he let his thoughts wander. He decided that Gillette was right, and then realized he had actually already decided to keep the child himself when he had chosen to ask Governor Swann to watch over her. With him out of town, James would have had to keep her anyway, and he knew now that he would have just made excuses by then to keep her longer.

If Weatherby had been able to raise Elizabeth alone, on top of all of his other duties, surely he could do the same with Lily. His own grandfather had been alone to raise him after his grandmother had passed away. His decision made, he shifted slightly and allowed himself to drift back to sleep.

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And yet another chapter up…

Author's Note: Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! Keep them coming…I enjoy hearing from you and which parts you like best. :D

I'll be back next Sunday—or Saturday. You never know with me. See you then! :)

~Seaweed