-Little Miracles-
Author's Note: I decided to update a little early this week. Which might be good for you if you happen to be enjoying this. One tiny reason is that storms have been bad here, lately, but mostly, it's just because I'm curious as to what your opinions are and what parts you like best… I'm just a reaction kind of person, I guess. I find it fascinating to find out what particular part catches a person's interest or makes them laugh or get angry or sad or whatever. But that's just me…
Disclaimer: If I owned any rights to this, I can assure you I wouldn't be working at the little rat hole of a truck stop in my town…
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Chapter 5
James Norrington woke in the dim hours of morning to a small weight on his chest and a mouthful of hair. Blinking groggily, he looked around the room, only to discover it wasn't his. Confused, but still too asleep enough to realize that all he had to do was look down and have all of his questions answered, he continued to try and puzzle it out. Outside, he could hear the continued patter of rain on the windows and the occasional rumble of distant thunder.
Finally, after several minutes of contemplation, he looked down and saw Lily. At the sight of the small, blonde little girl's head, he also remembered that he wasn't supposed to go to the fort today, and relaxed back into the goose-down mattress and pillow. He was just about to drift off again, when it sunk in that the weight he felt was centered above him.
He looked back down, this time twisting his head to see further down his side. Lily was lying completely sprawled on top of his chest, and had her right thumb planted in her mouth. He hoped it was just a habit for an added sense of security and something she would simply grow out of. He wasn't fond of the idea of having to break her of that habit.
Wrapping his arms around her, he carefully eased her down onto the mattress beside him. It was then that he realized her grip on his shirt hadn't eased through the course of the night. He tried loosening it so he could move into his customary position and ease his back and legs, but she whimpered in her sleep. Then his sleep-addled mind realized he had already shifted positions, though not to the one he had intended.
It was her whimper that also brought last night's events to the front of his mind. The sleep he had gotten had cooled his anger considerably, but he knew from past experience that it could easily be re-ignited in an instant if provoked just right. If that should happen, he only hoped Lily wasn't around to see it. He hated the thought that the tentative image she likely held of him might crumble in such an event.
He watched her sleep for several more moments, thankful that the rest of her night had apparently been peaceful. He raised an amused eyebrow when she wiggled closer to him, but soon felt his months of work catch up with him again once she ceased her movement, having tucked herself in close to his side.
Her breathing evened back out, though it hadn't really changed much anyway, and seemed to help lull him back to sleep. She snuggled in just a bit closer and he, in turn, wrapped his arms around her again as a rather fierce wave of protectiveness swept over him. The sound of the rain against the window and her breathing finally caused him to drift back to the realm of dreams.
When he woke again, it was to a set of bright blue eyes, framed by messy blonde curls, peering down at him from beside him. "You're awake," Lily said, a slight smile forming on her face. "You must have been very sleepy."
James felt his own lips curve into a smile. "Yes, I must have been." It was then he noticed that she now wore the same dress she had worn yesterday, though it was much cleaner. "I see you have been awake for some time, now."
Lily nodded. "Not very long, but Mister Jacob was in here when I woke up an' he helped me. He said I should let you sleep because you really needed it."
"Yes, I suppose I did."
"He also said if the birds didn't wake you up by noon, he was going to throw a pan of water on you."
"He did, did he?" James asked, thoroughly amused, but also incredibly pleased that she was beginning to act as he had seen many other children her age act.
The door opened, then, forestalling her next comment, to admit a stern-looking Jacob Craig into the room. "There you are, Little Miss. I thought I said to let the man sleep. I would think that telling you to leave him be and dragging you from the room at least seven times would convince you," he said, though it was obvious that he was just teasing. "You also need to come back down and eat your breakfast."
Lily looked over at the elderly cook, a rather shameful tone coloring her voice. "I know, Mister Jacob, but I just couldn't leave him up here all by himself."
Instinct told him that she simply hadn't been quite ready to leave his side completely. "It doesn't matter, in any case," he said, voicing his amusement as he sat up. "I am up now, so Mister Jacob will not need to throw that pan of water on me."
Jacob immediately turned bright red. "Well… Understand that… I mean… That is to say…" he spluttered.
James laughed quietly and reluctantly pulled himself from the comfort of the bed. "Lily, why don't you return to the kitchen with Jacob and eat while I get ready? Will you do that for me?"
"Yes," she said, jumping down from her own place on the bed. "I'll make sure there's enough for you." She scampered over to the cook and allowed him to guide her from the room.
James smiled and shook his head, then went back to his own room; Cecil close behind him. He cleaned up quickly, using the bucket of warm water the man had brought in with him. Once finished shaving and taking care of his other personal needs, he pulled on the fresh underclothes, shirt and stockings Cecil had set out for him. He then looked through his civilian clothes wishing he could have just pulled on a uniform.
There were many times that he absolutely hated civilian clothing. Especially when choosing what to wear. The only consolation was that they were all tailored similarly enough to his uniforms so that he wore something at least more familiar in feel. There were enough differences to distinguish them, however, not only in color, but in brocade and lapel cut as well. As James was beginning to consider usual for the man, Cecil stood by patiently, awaiting his choice of suit.
James sighed, rubbing the remaining sleep from his eyes. "The green- and ivory-colored one will work for today, I suppose."
"Cheer up, Sir. It is only for today, and then you can go back to your uniforms tomorrow," he said as he retrieved the specified items and draped them over a nearby chair.
"I know, Cecil, but it does not change the fact that it will still be rather strange to look down and see a color other than the blue and white I am accustomed to." James said as he quickly began dressing. He glanced toward the small crack in the drapes and found it had stopped raining. It appeared to have cleared up, as well.
"I know it's likely not my place to ask, but what's to be done about the child, Sir?"
James finished dressing by pulling on the dark green overcoat. "She will be staying with us, if she so chooses, and I am certain she will."
"Shall I begin purchasing new, more appropriate items for her room, then?"
"Yes," he paused, reconsidering. "Actually, come to think of it, I would like for you to accompany us to the shops today. Perhaps it would be best to purchase everything that will be needed today, or most of it at the very least."
"Yes, Sir. Would you like me to send for a carriage?"
James walked to the window and threw open the drapes. He gazed out trying to judge how muddy it would be and, even from this distance, he could see rather large mud puddles. He turned back to the servant. "Yes, I suppose it would be more prudent after last night's rain." He moved to his dresser to decide on a wig.
He could wear his white, powdered one, but he knew it bothered Lily, as evidenced by the fact that she sneezed whenever she got too close to it. Not wishing to cause her any discomfort, he chose the brown one he remembered—for some odd reason or other—as having worn the day they had found and rescued young Will Turner. Thinking back, he realized he likely remembered wearing it on that occasion because of a particularly embarrassing incident the evening before involving the white one he had owned at the time and his first and only attempt at gambling.
He also hoped he might be overlooked by Port Royal's social elite if he wore the brown one with Lily at his side.
"Is there anything else I can do, Sir?" Cecil asked.
James brought his focus back to the room and present time. "Yes, actually. Would you please take my hat downstairs?" he asked, quickly settling the wig on his head.
"Yes, Sir. Anything else?"
"No. Not at the moment, thank you."
"Very well, Sir," Cecil said. He gave a slight bow and backed out of the room with the hat.
James sighed, wishing Cecil would call him by name at least part of the time. Though his position in society dictated such, it grew tiring after a while, especially when it was people around whom he was more apt to let his guard down with. He glanced around the room making sure he hadn't forgotten anything, then made his way down to a late breakfast.
As he entered the kitchens, he found Lily finishing the last few bites of her porridge. When she saw him, she leapt up and ran to him. "James!" she exclaimed, hugging his knees.
He gently pried her loose and led her back to her seat and bowl. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, settling into the chair across the small table from her.
"After you stayed, yes," she said, returning to her breakfast.
"That is very good to hear." James moved back as Jacob placed a bowl of porridge in front of him. "Do you like your breakfast?"
"Mmhmm. It's much better than Papa's, an' I don't 'member much about Momma's, but I don't think they cooked very well."
"They didn't?" James asked, quickly amused. He shot an inquiring gaze at Jacob, who merely smiled and shook his head. James nearly chuckled himself at the sight of the older man's shoulders shaking in quiet mirth. Apparently Lily had been like this all morning.
"No. Papa's food was always really black when he did cook, an' I think I 'member Momma's tasting a lot like his cooking, but not that bad." She began trying to lick the rest of her breakfast from her bowl, but was stopped seconds later when James reached over and pushed it back to the table, shaking his head. As amusing as it was to see her do so, the sooner she learned that such behavior wasn't acceptable at a table, the better. Instead, she picked her spoon back up and tried to scrape every tiny morsel from the bowl. "I didn't mind, though. Emmie always let me eat with her next door when I could."
James did chuckle that time. He was rather amazed and pleased that she seemed to have turned into a chatterbox overnight. It made him wonder how and why the transformation had taken place, though he certainly wouldn't do anything to change it. It was so much better to have her speaking like this than to have her so quiet as she was before.
He ate quickly, knowing there wasn't as much time left in the day as he would have preferred, though he did feel much rested. Jacob continued speaking with Lily, mostly asking about what sorts of food she preferred. "The carriage is here and waiting, Sir," Cecil said, startling James slightly.
"Thank you, Cecil." He glanced up at Jacob. "Would you like to accompany us?"
"I think I will, if you're certain. I could visit the bakery and restock on some of that bread you're so fond of."
"I am certain, and that bread would be most appreciated, I assure you."
"I wouldn't doubt it. I've never seen a person eat so much of that sweet bread as you do."
James smiled, standing from his chair. "Lily seems to like it as well."
"Is that a fact?" He didn't sound at all surprised.
"It is," James said.
Lily nodded in agreement. "Can we have more of it for lunch today?"
James chuckled. "We shall see," he said, taking her hand.
Upon their arrival at the front door, Cecil passed James' hat to him. "The driver has already been informed of our destination," he said. James nodded. The carriage stood just beyond the short brick walk. Water stood in a small low spot in the middle, covering a small section with rather deep water and James debated carrying Lily to the carriage.
Before he could decide, Jacob stepped up and took her other hand. Shaking his head, amused, James started forward. As they reached the puddle, both men lifted Lily off the ground, much to her delight, as they stepped over the water.
They arrived at the carriage quickly, though Lily gazed at it in slight trepidation. Jacob released her hand and climbed in after Cecil. James glanced over, recognizing Paul Nichols, a driver he had had a few times before, and nodded. He then lifted Lily up into the carriage, following after. Nichols latched the door after him, and soon enough, they were on their way into the town.
James smiled as Lily climbed up into his lap and watched out the window. "They move fast," she said.
"Is this your first time in a carriage?" he asked.
Lily nodded, watching the buildings pass. "I saw them in the streets. One almost hit me."
James nodded, remembering well how fast some drivers could be at times. "One must be careful."
"That's what Emmie always says." She paused, and looked up at him before dropping her gaze to her lap. "Momma always said it, too."
Silence fell over them, then. For James' part, he was lost in the memories of last night's events and revelations, though he suspected the other two men in the carriage were as well. Lily had gone back to gazing out the window and was now leaning sideways against him. The bright chattering girl they had been introduced to that morning had withdrawn, leaving the sullen child he had met yesterday.
The silence was finally broken as the carriage came to a stop in the commercial section of the town. Nichols unlatched and opened the door moments later. "Quiet as a grave in 'ere, it is," James thought he heard the man mumble as Cecil and Jacob climbed out.
James set Lily on the floor and climbed out himself. He turned to lift her to the ground, but was thwarted in completing that move when she refused to allow her legs to touch the ground or support her. Though there were considerably fewer people milling about today, there were apparently enough to cause her some discomfort. "Can you walk for at least a little?" he asked gently. "Should you tire, I would carry you, but I know you are not yet tired."
She gave him a baleful look, but nodded and allowed him to set her down. His heart clenched a little, seeing her silent as she had been the previous day, but he thought he could perhaps understand why. He looked around, trying to figure out where he should go first, but shopping for such things was unknown territory for him. Especially here. "Where should we start, Cecil? Jacob?" he asked quietly.
"Well, I don't know about you, but I am going to go get that bread, among other items for the kitchen," Jacob said just as quietly, beginning to walk away.
"Traitor," James muttered. Jacob laughed and merely waved goodbye to them. Lily's grip tightened as she slipped closer to him.
"Perhaps…" Cecil began. James turned to find him looking Lily over carefully. "Perhaps dresses would be in order first of all. Even if some must be ordered, the shops should have some she could use for everyday play as well as nightgowns and such in stock. She will likely outgrow whatever you purchase in any case. Perhaps several for playing and a few nicer ones for special occasions and Sunday services?"
"I believe that much would be obvious," James began uneasily, "but I am afraid I still wouldn't know where to start." Besides, there are likely to be many of the ladies I try to avoid in them.
"Perhaps any one of the dress shops would be an ideal place to start," said a new, soft-spoken voice.
"Miss Birch," James acknowledged as he turned. As he did so, a thought of common sense hit him, but she spoke again before he could voice it.
"Commodore. Forgive me. I should not have spoken so. After last night's meal, I had a bit of a feeling you might send someone along with Lily for new clothes, and I thought I might be of service. I stopped by your home, but I was too late, I'm afraid. I must admit I had not expected you to see to the matter yourself."
James felt himself shrug slightly, not at all surprised at her offer of help. "Lieutenant Gillette persuaded me to take a day of leave and suggested I do this."
She laughed. "Ah, yes. Dear Nathan. He can be quite the loyal friend when he isn't planning mischief against you."
"Indeed," James said. "And I would very much appreciate any help you can give us. I was just about to ask you if you would mind assisting." He glanced around, eyeing the shops with a small amount of apprehension. "I must admit, this sort of thing is beyond me."
Mary Kate Birch laughed merrily. "I am certain it must be." She knelt as best she could in front of Lily, seemingly paying no mind to the mud or her skirts dipping into it. "Hello again, Lily. Are you enjoying yourself in the good commodore's care?" The child nodded, trying to hide behind him. "Did you sleep well last night?"
James watched as the woman's smile faded to an expression of dismay. He looked down as Lily looked up then ducked her head back down at his coat. Her lower lip was quivering. Mary Kate caught his gaze again with a questioning one. "Nightmares," he mouthed to her. Her expression then turned to one of deep understanding and sympathy.
Though she had no idea of the exact sorts of things that had been in Lily's nightmare, he knew she could well relate to the matter of nightmares in general. She had to know if the topic of their first civil conversation was of any indication. One did not speak of blood as she had and not have nightmares unless they were of an ill mind.
She forced a cheerful smile, though James was certain Lily likely picked up on that. "Well, Lily, would you like to have some help in choosing new dresses?"
Lily peeked out. "Momma and Emmie made my dresses." She looked up at him with an expression he could only describe as worried. "Do I have to?"
James knelt as well, though mindful of the mud. "Lily, you do need at least a few more dresses. You cannot wear the same two all the time," he said gently.
"But—" She was very close to tears now.
"Lily, they are very lovely dresses, and I am certain your mother and…Emmie… poured much love into each and every stitch," Mary Kate said. "But sooner or later, they will either fall apart from wear and wash, or you will outgrow them. I know you wish to keep them and treasure them. I myself have many such things my mother made for me and, like you, I was loath to give them up, but I had to."
Lily's eyes grew wide. "What happened to them?"
Mary Kate smiled, a particular one that seemed rather rare for her. "I packed them away where I can still treasure them, and look at them when I wish to. Especially when I wish to remember how much she loved me."
"Your momma was taken away from you, too, wasn't she?" Lily asked, her voice just above a whisper. James' gaze snapped to the young woman, suddenly so much more acutely aware of just how little he knew of her. Though he would have liked to believe that she had been merely traveling with her uncle, he knew—had known since he met her—deep down that it was not the case.
"Yes, Lily. I lost my mother." She smiled rather sadly. "And my father as well."
James watched, still rather stunned that he hadn't heard of this before, as Lily bit her lip and stepped forward to give the woman a brief hug. "Emmie always says a hug can do a person a world of good," she said stepping back to clasp his hand and wrist as he stood.
"Emmie sounds very wise," he said, returning Lily's slight smile. "May I buy you some new dresses, now, Lily? I would be very honored and it would please me much to be able to do so."
"Will I like them?"
"Of course you will!" he answered, smiling. "You are the one to choose them, after all."
"Very well, then. You win," she mimicked him from last night.
James chuckled and turned to Miss Birch. "Is your offer of assistance still open?"
"Well of course it is! I should doubt very much that Lily would get everything she needs if I did not!"
James shot her a look he normally reserved for Lieutenant Gillette. "I know what sorts of things she needs. I can well remember days in my childhood when I had been left with my mother and sister. I simply didn't know which shop to start with, or which proprietor to deal with." Or which ones to avoid. Mary Kate laughed again.
"Shall I see to the other needed items, Sir?" Cecil asked.
"Yes, perhaps that would be best, as I am uncertain how long this will be."
"Shall I have the items I purchase charged to you?" James raised an eyebrow. "I'll just assume that to be a 'yes' and leave it at that, shall I?"
He looked down again as he felt a tug at his cuff. "Are you coming?" Lily asked.
"Yes, of course."
"I shall come find you once I am finished, Sir," Cecil said.
James nodded, then turned back to Lily and Miss Birch, both gazes questioning, yet annoyed. "Yes, I am coming." He took Lily's hand and held his arm out for the young woman, who took it. "Where do we start?" he asked, dreading the upcoming experience. He was certain he would run into several mothers and their daughters. He was definitely most certain he would rather be facing a broadside from an equally armed ship on the Dauntless.
"We start here," she said, pointing straight forward. "And the brown suits you, today, Commodore," Miss Birch said. "But something tells me you chose to wear it because it throws one off balance to see you in it. It is not the white one you usually wear, thus one has to take a second look in order to recognize you. Knowing the local 'leeches', as you and Nathan are so fond of calling them—as I have come to know them—something tells me you did that on purpose, especially with Lily here.
"In light of these suspicions, which I am fairly certain I am correct in, I have a bit of a suggestion for you that may help your disguise a little." He raised an eyebrow. "I would very much prefer that you call me by my name. I have been here for three months, now, and it is just too formal for me. Though, if you would be uncomfortable in doing so, I understand, but I should like to consider you a friend. Even more so after all this time."
"I think I should like to be considered a friend of yours, as well, Mis- Mary Kate," he said. "And I would like to consider you a friend of mine, as well."
"Thank you," she said sincerely as they entered the first shop. "Now, as your friend…" James groaned inwardly, wondering what he had gotten himself into. She was exactly like Gillette, which was probably why the two were even closer friends.
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Like it? Hate it? Simply wish to pilfer some of my chocolate and ice cream? :p
Author's Note: I thought I would take a bit of time and reply to a few of your reviews and address a few issues you might be concerned with… I usually don't, since I'm sometimes not really all that great at such things, but some of you have such lovely things to say and issues I thought I might explain…
Emma lOu (sorry if I misspelled that): Thank you for telling me of your concerns. I truly appreciate anyone that is willing to give criticism and stuff. It helps me grow as a writer; while I like knowing that people enjoy what I am writing, I also like to know if there are certain areas that need help or don't sound right. I realize some might see that a military type should be uptight and all, but you were also right in that I see them differently. Please don't take this as an attack on you or anything of that nature. I truly don't mean this that way. I guess it comes from me reading the books I read. All of them have very strong military leaders in them, but they aren't completely rigid in them. They interact with the people they protect, and while they keep a distinct chain of command and respect and distance, they also have very close friends in some of their subordinates and others around them. But I am most certainly pleased to know that you like this story. I only hope you continue to read this and review it. And if you see anything else that might need work or concerns you, don't hesitate to tell me.
Talamh: I am truly glad to know you are enjoying this! I was a bit fearful of posting at first, but then I'm always nervous when posting new stories. I'm glad you like my personification of James… I think I tend to write military leaders better than most other characters, and probably, again, because of my usual choice in books… Just a heads' up, though: Will and Elizabeth are far too early in their marriage to even know if they might be expecting, and to be honest, I wasn't all that fond of those two characters in the first place. I'm trying to be fair when I write them, however—I even have two friends reading this before I post it…one doesn't like Elizabeth and the other is the opposite…I think they make a fine balance—and more will be seen of the Turners if I can ever get the 'parent' story this spun off of (if that's the right term I'm looking for) more towards completed. I've had the idea for months, along with several other Norrington ones that will eventually form a series, and I actually started writing two before this one… They're just far less complete. And also significantly longer. And complex. (Well, one is for sure) :p
Erica Dawn: I'm glad you like this! Regarding your Chapter 1 comments and concerns, James wasn't keeping her secret on purpose, if that makes sense. He certainly wasn't embarrassed of her or his men, but he knew she was frightened, and didn't wish to make it worse. And yes, Weatherby will be making appearances once he returns to town… You also had the same reaction as my mom apparently does when I convince her to read my stuff. When she got to the end of what I had, she said she kept wanting to scroll down, and looked over at me and said "Where's the rest of it?!" Which part did you want to know about the Birches? The parlor scene, or the dinner scene?
InaraSerra: I sympathize with you on the other stories regarding the honorable Commodore… I pull up ff.net all the time, only to find stories that all sound the same. I'm glad I can at least provide a bit of a choice. I also get so tired of seeing James written as a baby-snatching, narrow-minded lunatic. And on the few stories that don't show him in that light, the stories are tainted by things I don't like to read about, or they have him in a bad match or his character is just so poorly written. I could probably count the really, really good Norrington stories I read on one hand, and even then, most were just one-shot things. I'm so glad you like how I write Gillette, though! I think he's another one that's been written very, very poorly in most other stories.
StarCrossedFate: You like my dialogue? You think my writing is beautiful? *blushes* Thank you :) I usually have the most trouble with dialogue, so…
Jaina Kenobi: I know exactly what you mean… Though to me, it's more that all the stories in the PotC category seem to be blending together. Only certain types catch my eye, and those are now few and far between. Of course, all the stories I read in the three categories I keep up with here seem to be going that way. Perhaps it's just the current trend. I'm afraid I haven't seen any Monty Python shows or movies or anything else of his. I live in a rural area, and don't often rent anything, as I'd have to go to the next town over to get anything worth watching. I'll just have to take your word for it about vicious bunnies…
LadyDeb1970: I'm afraid your review didn't show up among the others, but, fortunately, it did arrive in my inbox. I'm glad you could easily hear his voice. I know I can see and hear him as many of these things happen. Actually, all the characters do that for me. Some have even taken over and basically write themselves. James is one of them. Lily, Gillette, and the Birches are others. It's a lot easier and certainly more fun when they do that, though. They're often full of surprises, and this last chapter is one in which the characters didn't allow me to do what I had originally planned. Elizabeth was supposed to show up, but Mary Kate and Cecil didn't want her to…they kept talking. :p
Cheska: Actually, it doesn't matter whether you call me Gaeruil or Seaweed. Both are the same. Gaeruil is just the Sindarin word for Seaweed… ;) :p (Yes, some of my incomplete projects are Lord of the Rings-based ones…)
And last, but certainly not least, Erusuiel: Hehe I must admit, some of your comments have been quite accurate… I can't understand how or why you might know these things…
To anyone else: Thank you so much for your reviews. I hope you keep them coming, as I truly enjoy reading them. No matter how small or large they are.
To quote MacArthur, "I shall return!" But not until next weekend. :p :)
Have fun this week, and take care! Don't get water-logged or blown away by any storms…
~Seaweed