-Little Miracles-
Author's Note: I apologize not only for the slight delay (even though it's technically still the weekend), but also for its short length. Not only has this chapter proved to be quite uncooperative, for some reason, but my week has also been a bit hectic and I'm afraid this is all that came to mind. Maybe it's the chapter number. I'm not sure. Also, everyone should thank my beta, Beth. If not for her, this chapter, such as it is, would not even exist right now.
Disclaimer: I own nothing but a couple coffee mugs, a few clothes, cds, movies and stuffed animals. I don't think any of those listed items qualify as the exclusive rights to Pirates of the Caribbean. Especially considering I've never met any of the actors, directors, producers or anyone else in or involved with said movie.
Chapter 13
The men were idle; restless. There was nothing in sight for miles upon miles in all directions save sky and sea. Even extra allotments of rum rations would do nothing to help. There was little more available than what would last for the duration of the patrol anyway.
From his place on the quarterdeck, James Norrington scanned the horizon, taking care to survey the eastern skies. When the morning watch had risen, it had been to a red sunrise; the top watches had sighted a distant storm approaching just after noon. The nearest island had immediately been located and their course changed in that direction. James knew of the island and was fairly certain it would give them sufficient shelter. If his calculations were correct, and he was certain they were, they would reach the island just before nightfall.
He only hoped they could get there before the storm hit. Though it was something he had done before, he did not enjoy finding the right spot to drop anchor in the midst of a storm. From what he could see, they still had several hours before it came upon them.
In the meantime, something needed to be done to relieve the men of their boredom before they decided to do something rash. "Mister Harding, pick three men of your choosing and see if you can't supply the galley with some fresh meat, if you please."
The sailor chose three men James assumed to be friends and made their way to the stern of the ship to try and catch some fish. "I can think of a better way to distract the men," Gillette murmured, stepping up beside him.
James twisted around slightly to glance at him, an eyebrow raised. "I wouldn't doubt it." He noted the mischievous gleam in the lieutenant's eye and pointedly ignored it, turning back to observe the crew. "Just what did you have in mind, exactly?"
Gillette gave him a self-satisfied smile that James felt more than saw. "Are you giving me permission to go ahead with it?" James glanced sideways at him.
The gleam in Nathan's eye intensified.
The lieutenant pulled out his telescope, scanned the horizon and began walking toward a group of marines. "Murtogg!" He stepped down to the lower deck. James watched carefully, still wondering what he was up to. "Find yourself a good vantage spot here on the quarterdeck and tell me what you can see," he told the marine, handing him the telescope.
Murtogg looked quite confused as to why Gillette was asking him to do this, but accepted the glass nonetheless. "Sir?"
"Just take a look around and tell me what you see, hmm?"
"If you say so, Sir," Murtogg replied, still looking rather uncomfortable.
As the marine hesitantly came up onto the officers' deck, he glanced nervously toward James, who gave him a slight nod of reassurance that it was, indeed, all right for him to be there. James saw the nervous marine glance back down at his friend, Mullroy, who scowled. He could only assume that Murtogg had shot him a smug look.
Haltingly, he brought the telescope up and peered through it. "I don't really see anything, Sir," he said.
"Are you certain?" Gillette asked, pacing around the man a little.
"I'm sorry- Wait. I think I see something now." He paused. "It- it looks like a…ship." Curious, James began walking to the railing where the two men stood. Murtogg appeared to be squinting through the lens. "Black- black sails."
James noted the hint of a question in his voice. He drew his own telescope up and looked for what Murtogg must see. It took a few moments, but he finally found it. A tiny speck, beyond sight even with the aid of the telescope. It hardly merited being called a sighting, but James held his tongue. He lowered his telescope and glanced toward Gillette. He found another self-satisfied smirk.
"Black sails?" Mullroy scoffed from below. "Don't tell me. The Black Pearl?"
"Well it could be," Murtogg shot back.
Gillette's mouth quirked into a smile, the gleam in his eye now merry.
Mullroy shot his friend a disbelieving look. " 'Could be'?"
"Well, yes."
"Really?" Mullroy retorted. James glanced around discreetly and found nearly all the crewmen above deck watching and listening to the two. Several were smiling, some, he could see, were shaking with quiet laughter. "And I suppose you expect us to believe that."
"You can believe whatever you want. I know what I saw."
"Just like you claimed to have seen the Black Pearl?"
"I have seen the Black Pearl Nearly everyone on the ship has seen it. Including you."
"I'm not talking about that night with those walking skeletons! D'you think I'm daft?" James felt the corner of his mouth quirk. "I'm talking about when Sparrow first showed up."
James caught himself before he shook his head. The two could go on for hours if left uninterrupted. Instead, he chose to gaze out toward the horizon. Though the storm was nowhere near close enough to be a threat as yet, he could still see the occasional flash of lightning in the upper levels of the clouds. As he watched the storm, the distance allowing him to watch some of its expansion and development, he couldn't help but be enthralled by the graceful power and majesty of Mother Nature.
She had the power to wipe out entire civilizations in mere minutes or days as well as create new life anywhere one looked. One had to respect her.
Watching the lightning, however, conjured thoughts of Lily. Perhaps it was the memory of the bolt that had snapped her from that first nightmare. Inevitably, this then led to her other nightmares. His heart broke with every nightmare she experienced. Spending time with her the following evening, playing with her, reading to her or simply watching her play or sleep would mend it anew.
But then the next nightmare would come and shatter it all over again.
It was a vicious cycle. One he knew had to end, but he had no ideas how to do so. Perhaps time was the only thing that could help her. Time and love, and that he could easily give her.
He glanced sideways, slightly, as Gillette came up beside him. From the laughter in his eye, James new Nathan had thoroughly enjoyed stirring up one of Murtogg and Mullroy's typical arguments. One didn't need to hear the full argument to know how it turned out. They were usually the same. "You're awfully quiet and entirely too solitary over here by yourself," Gillette said. "Is something wrong?"
"No. No, I was just thinking of Lily's nightmares."
"What brought such dreary thoughts about?" he asked, suddenly concerned.
"The lightning, actually. It was lightning that woke her that first night."
"You didn't use water as you did the other night?"
James shook his head. "No. Cecil had forgotten to fill the pitcher. It was because of that first night that brought him to ensure there was always some close at hand at all times." He paused; a flash of lightning, for some reason or other evoked the memory of the way her back had arched in her sleep. "Did I tell you she'd been beaten?"
At Nathan's sharp, startled glance, he found his answer. "No. How do you know?"
"It was what event was behind the nightmare you witnessed. She has scars—stripes, to be exact—all about her shoulders," he said, his voice as distant as his thoughts, immersed in memory as they were. "They're the most gruesome scars I think I've ever seen."
"I can imagine so. A child's back is no place for such marks."
"Indeed." James briefly pulled himself back into the present as a gust of wind shifted his hat slightly. He glanced around, seeing immediately that they were still on course and that all was as it should be. "Do you know what her answer was when I asked her why she had been beaten?"
"Considering I was not present at the that time, I would have to be honest and say I am quite unaware."
"She said she had been 'too loud'." Hearing her answer had immediately brought to mind memory of their visit to the shoe shop. The memory of her immediate distress when he had told her that stomping her feet had not only been loud but rude. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time, but could now understand why she had been so quiet. She had been afraid he would strike her as her father had; a fear that had been apparently laid to rest at her first church service.
"Too loud?" Gillette asked, incredulous. "I find children to be far more pleasant and endearing when enjoying themselves and being noisy."
James smiled. "You would. Unfortunately, not everyone is you." He paused, favoring his friend with a teasing look. "Although if all were like you, no one would find a moment's peace."
"Are you saying I'm disruptive?"
"No. I'm saying the world would never be dull. That the world needs more like you, I think."
"James, I think you just succeeded in increasing the size of my head."
"Just don't allow it to swell too far. I may send you to man the bilges if you do." Nathan shot him a dry look.
They both fell silent, then, each contemplating the approaching storm. It was noticeably closer, but still not so much as to be a threat yet. As he watched, however, he noticed a slight increase in the frequency of lightning flashes. "Do you think the storm will be a very bad one?" Gillette asked.
"It's difficult to tell, as yet. I don't believe it will be as bad as some seen this time of year."
"Looks can be deceiving, though," Gillette said.
Nodding briefly, James braced himself against the rail and continued to examine the storm. "They can, indeed."
Looks can be deceiving, indeed! James thought as he was drenched by yet another wave. He straightened back up, as he had hunched over slightly, and took a quick glance around the deck. The men all had their hands full with lines, trying to keep them secured in the high winds.
They were making very little headway toward the island now, since the storm had forced them to reef what sails they could and take in the others. The only thing they could really do at this point was hold to their course. They could change directions and continue on toward Port Royal, but it was uncertain how long the storm might last or how strong it could get before it started to die down. He wouldn't risk any lives unnecessarily.
The storm had come up on them faster than anyone had thought it would, and it only seemed to be getting stronger. While it wasn't anywhere near the force of some of the hurricanes to hit, it was still fairly strong. They hadn't quite made it to the island yet, either, but one of the lieutenants had sighted it between waves.
He looked around again, trying to keep up-to-date on all that was happening. He noticed immediately that a line was loose and flailing around in the wind, whipping anyone it came close to. As the rest of the men were too busy, James scrambled down to secure it before it could do damage or cause injury. He was lucky enough to catch it quickly, and, looking up through the driving, blinding rain to follow it to its source, finally figured out just which line it was.
He began making his way toward the proper belaying pin; his progress, like that of the ship, was hampered by the pounding waves. He had just made it to the line of pins at the rail, when he was swamped by a particularly strong wave. He managed to hold on, but upon feeling rain hitting his head, he realized his hat and wig had been swept away.
He struggled to keep the rain out of his eyes as he lashed the rope down to the proper pin as tightly as he could, but it was a futile battle. Normally, he loved being out in the rain, but this was just a bit much. Perhaps he still would have loved to walk in this heavy of rain on land, but at sea, combined with the waves and tossing ship, it made for a potentially deadly force.
Another wave swept over the rail, then, penetrating his oilskins and soaking him to the bone even more than he already was. Someone cried out, then, and he looked over to find a young sailor lying on his side on the deck against the rail. Clinging to the rail or rigging, James made his way to the boy slowly to keep his footing.
Upon reaching the lad, he helped him stand and steadied him as best he could. Another wave came over, though, and instead of allowing the boy to be swept back off his feet, James tried to shield him as best he could. Bracing himself, James again steadied the boy, then turned to make his way back up to the quarterdeck.
"..ames!…ook out!"
He whirled around, trying to figure out who had yelled what to whom, only to have the back of his head explode with a staggering white light.
"Ain't I a stinker?"
Author's Responses:
Welcome, Jennie, and WideEyedandPointing! I'm glad you're enjoying this little tale. :)
Keindra, – Thank you for your wonderful comments! As for James and Mary Kate, as ever, I'm afraid I'm going to remain tight-lipped on this. I'm sorry to disappoint.
Moonbeam – Thanks for the review! The interaction is what the characters seem to want, though. I don't really have any control over them. :p
Smalldiver – Evil? Me? Noo!
Eledhwen – I think Mary Kate will be a good influence too… Though that may not completely good, either…
Myself – Thank you for all your very enthusiastic comments! They really provide motivation to keep going, even through the toughest cases of writer's block! And yes, I do have at least a little bit of back-story for nearly every character in this and the other stories, and they will be exposed as I progress through them. ;)
cheska21 - Me? Do something bad to James? Surely you jest! :p And thank you for the lovely comments! You might be happy to know that 2 other stories with these characters are already planning themselves out in my mind. I'm just trying to get through this one so I can begin to focus on them more easily.
Dazzler420 – Will Lily meet Jack? Maybe, maybe not… It's hard to say at this particular stage in the series…
Cestrel – I'm glad you're enjoying Norrington in this. I find it sad that no one can seem to write him with very much depth. It makes for very little reading material for me at times…
BlackJackSilver – A sense of foreboding? Did this chapter help alleviate that? :p I am glad you like Lily, though. I think she might just be one of my better characters out of all I've ever written.
Quiet One – Thank you! As for when I find time to write, it's whenever I can. This week was particularly bad because not only did I not get any ideas at all for this chapter until Thursday at the very earliest (and that was only for the first page or so) and then the rest came just yesterday and this evening, but my parents came home, and I had to help them get some things done, which kept me from writing yesterday and today as well.
I hope I didn't miss anyone. If so, I'm sorry, and again, I apologize for the slight delay in updating, the short length, as well as any lacking quality.
I'll try my very best to return this next weekend with the next chapter.
- Gaeruil