-Little Miracles-
Author's Note: Apologizing seems to be the only thing I do, these last few weeks. :( And here I offer yet another one. The delay for this one is can be found in the post itself. It took me most of the last two weeks just to write one particularly complex scene. I was only able to write it at a rate of five sentences at a time because I couldn't seem to be happy with it. Then, the rest took a couple days or so in my few minutes of free time. Again, I apologize, and hope this chapter is worth the wait.
Disclaimer: I own no rights to any movies… [sniffle] I wish I did, though.
Chapter 16
He was here. Now. In this port—sitting in one of the cells this very moment, in fact.
He was a man who'd beaten his own wife to death. Who had beaten and scarred his own three-year-old daughter, simply because she'd been too loud. A man who was now very accessible.
Glancing down, James tried to read the report before him, but his swirling thoughts and emotions simply wouldn't allow it. He couldn't even read beyond the first two or three words. All he could see was Lily's solemn expression when she'd first arrived, her terrified expression when she woke up from her first nightmare and when he tried to coax her out of the corner. He saw her fear that he'd strike her at church. Her nightmares that had visited her nearly every night. Her tears.
But most predominant were her scars—harsh, pink stripes criss-crossing the width of her upper back around her shoulders.
Frustrated with his own lack of focus, James put the report down, stood and walked to the table that held some of his charts. He glanced down, his eyes automatically pinpointing the location Harland had said the pirates had been captured at. He scowled and walked back to his desk
"It's Papa," Lily had said. Two tiny, little words, and they had destroyed more of his control quicker than anything else ever had before. Including the last verbal encounter he'd had with his father.
Disgusted, he walked swiftly to the small cabinet by his desk and poured himself a bit of brandy. He downed it quickly, then poured another small amount before putting the decanter away again.
"Not here. Not now," Arthur had said as he'd swiftly prevented James' initial attempt on the man's health before he had even begun to move "Let us go and have something to eat. You can speak with him tomorrow after your temper has cooled considerably." The solid grip on his arm had tightened, his voice low—the discussion remaining between them. It had taken all of his reserves of restraint and much of Arthur's to stand rooted in place on the weathered planks.
"If for no other reason, leave him be for Lily's sake. I suspect she's seen enough violence in her short life, and most certainly doesn't need to see it from you, as well." It had been these words from Arthur that had been his key to temporarily regaining his head. That, and Lily's small hand clutching his own, providing an anchor with her frightened grasp. Scowling again, James forced himself to sip his brandy to try and calm down.
Luckily, Lieutenant Stone had returned with a squadron of marines and they had gotten Cooper out of his sight rather quickly—before his hard-won control was lost again. He had then finished speaking with the two captains as quickly and politely as possible before Arthur firmly ensured that James and Lily went straight to his home for supper.
They found Cecil and Jacob already there, supper ready, and the table set. By a silent agreement of sorts, neither James nor Arthur had spoken of the events at the docks until after they'd eaten. Lily had apparently still been too shaken to make much of a sound or even eat. Once they had, however, Cecil became understandably angered and sympathetic for Lily, but Jacob became downright furious. By that time, Lily had grown a little more hysteric before she fell asleep; crying and begging them all not to let her father take her.
She had remained at his side or attached to him in some manner the entire evening, and most of this morning as well.
Lily's behavior and everything she'd been through stuck with him, and only reminded him constantly of just how horrible her father truly was. Contrary to Arthur's intentions, however, waiting until this morning to see the man had only allowed his anger to stew. If he'd been angry the evening before, he was positively livid now, and, being bound by the law as he was, he was somewhat obligated to ensure Cooper was able to stand trial.
As the morning progressed, he found this duty to be more and more difficult to hold to.
Gulping down the rest of his brandy, James placed the glass on the cabinet and walked back to his desk. His eyes landed on the report once more, but he glared at it and walked to his small window. It was a beautiful day outside, but he knew he wouldn't enjoy it. He had a feeling that if he set foot outside his office walls, his feet would immediately take him down to the jail where he would, most likely, do something he would regret later.
Restless, he moved away from the window again. There was no point in gazing, since it would only make him want to go outside. He needed to finish those reports, but his feet took him everywhere in his office except the desk.
That was how he was found nearly an hour later; pacing his office like a caged lion. He hadn't ever noticed when, exactly, Lieutenants Evans and Gillette and Arthur Birch arrived, but the moment he did, he immediately saw the expression on Birch's face: grim, but understanding determination.
Gillette and Evans stepped back out into the corridor. Birch stepped forward, raising his chin slightly so that he seemed taller than the hand-width he was. "Am I to assume your anger has not yet abated?" he asked, his voice rich and clear.
Feeling more like a midshipman than a captain under such scrutiny, James glanced to the side. "No, actually," he answered quietly, returning his gaze. "If anything, it seems to have grown and everything I've tried does nothing to lessen it."
Nodding, Birch stepped forward again. "I thought as much," he said, extending an arm as if to guide James from behind. "Come."
Curious now, more than anything, James allowed himself to be led outside. Behind him, Birch grabbed something on his way out. "If I may ask, where are we going?"
"Outside." Birch gave him a rather wicked smile. "To take the air." He spoke no word after that; only led the way out and into the fort courtyard. He stopped in the center, well away from anything, and pushed a sword into his hand.
James glanced down to see that it was his own sword. He looked back at Arthur to see he'd removed his jacket and passed it to Thomas. James raised an eyebrow. "A friendly match, I hope?"
Arthur smiled slightly. "I thought to allow you a way to work off some of that unwanted energy I know you possess. I also know you've yet to see Cooper, and guessed you didn't quite trust yourself around him. I see I guessed correctly." His face went carefully blank. "I suggest you remove your own coat. I have no intention of making this easy for you," He said, drawing his sword.
James did so, passing his coat and sheath to Nathan. As he stepped closer to his opponent, the two lieutenants quickly moved well out of the way. He took a more relaxed stance and raised the tip of his sword. Despite the intensity of his anger toward Lily's father, he was rather apprehensive about this little match.
Without warning, Arthur made the first move. James reacted quickly, bringing his blade up to parry the strike just in time. He returned it with a slash at Arthur's stomach, which was quickly blocked. He parried the next attempt to his shoulder with ease. He thrust his sword, aiming for Birch's ribs, then began circling to his left.The two circled for several moments, each looking for an opening. Lunging suddenly, James feinted toward Arthur's shoulder, then took a swipe at his chest. Advancing slowly, James began pushing him back toward the soldiers working to erect the gallows.
Halfway there, Arthur stepped sharply to the right and struck toward James' shoulder again, forcing him to deflect the move at an awkward angle. Then Arthur pushed back and, with several strikes made in rapid succession, forced James on the defensive. He back-stepped as quickly as he could under the assault, keeping track of where he was in relation to his surroundings to prevent tripping.
The distinct ring of metal striking metal bounced off the stone walls, echoing around the fort. Though neither noticed, their small match attracted an audience amongst off-duty soldiers. Some of those still on-duty came as they were able, or, if they were one of those on guard, were thankful their commanders were distracted or away. Most didn't stay long anyway, either knowing their duties or having seen such duels before.
As Birch continued to press forward, James merely deflected the other blade, patiently waiting for the opening he knew would have to reveal itself soon. He ducked, Arthur's blade passing well above him, then thrust his own sword out from the lower angle. This forced Birch to jump back some, to prevent being stabbed, but also threw him slightly off balance.
James took advantage and began a new press of attack. Moving as quickly as possible, he flicked his blade into any small opening he found. Arthur kept pace, deflecting every attempt before it could get too close. As he did this, James advanced again, pushing his opponent back toward the steps.
As he pushed, Arthur threw several strikes toward him, but as James relaxed and became more accustomed to his fighting style, his anger resurfaced. He parried Arthur's strokes and replied with counterstrikes more powerful that was really necessary for such a fight. He tried his best to keep mindful of the fact that it was Arthur he was fighting and not Lily's father.
Then Birch suddenly stepped to the side, well beyond the reach of James' sword and straightened, dropping his sword tip to point toward the ground. James would have thought he was ending the match if not for the fact that he kept circling.
Though he kept alert, James wondered just what, exactly, Arthur had planned. They continued to circle for several moments, the growing heat working its way into his awareness. Sweat trickled down his face, but he ignored it and did his best to ignore and blink away the little that felt like it would get in his eyes.
Arthur leapt forward suddenly, and let loose a flurry of sword strokes. James backed quickly, flicking the man's blade aside as best he could. He watched again for an opening, then feinted, choosing to pass by the man instead to get away from the stairs leading up onto the battlements. Arthur turned immediately and lunged. James barely got his hand out of the way in time to keep from getting cut.
For several long moments, all either man knew was strike and counterstrike, thrust and parry. The rhythm of metal against metal rose and fell much like that of the waves crashing along the beaches. Back and forth and side to side they went around the courtyard, though they took care to stay away from the gallows.
Nearly an hour later, his shirt soaked with sweat and clinging to him as barnacles on the hull of a ship, he felt more in control of himself. He certainly wasn't as sloppy now as he had been earlier, and he could see by the look on Birch's face that it had been noticed. Throughout much of the match, the other man had had the upper hand, and James knew it was because he hadn't kept his head as he should.
They took to circling each other again, now more relaxed, since the heat and duration of the fight had sapped much of their strength. This time, James was far more cautious. Arthur apparently noticed this as well, for he gave a small, pleasant smile, then stepped back and lowered his sword.
James straightened, curious, confused, and hesitantly lowered his own blade when Birch made no further move. "I trust your mind is now better suited for a discussion with Mister Cooper?" Arthur asked.
James relaxed further, knowing with certainty that the fight was at its end. Now idle, the stickiness of his clothing became much more pronounced. The corners of his mouth tugged upward into a wry smile. "It is, though my appearance at the moment has much to be desired, I think."
"Indeed. I anticipated this, however, and took the liberty of procuring a change of uniform for you. Mister Craig and Mister Porter were most accommodating." He paused, taking a step forward and re-sheathed his sword. "I hope you don't mind."
James glanced briefly over his shoulder and caught Gillette's eye, then turned back to his opponent. "I don't. In fact, I appreciate your foresight very much, just as I appreciate that duel. I think that did much more to help than anything I'd tried." Nathan came up behind him, then, and returned his sheath to him. "My thanks, Lieutenant." He slid his sword in, then pulled the belt around his waist and hooked it. He gathered his coat and began walking back into the buildings. "Where might I find this spare uniform?"
"Your quarters. If you will excuse me, I believe I shall return home and find a change of clothing myself."
With a quick nod, James turned and made his way to his former quarters. Walking down familiar corridors, he couldn't help but think of his preference for living in such a manner; within the fort, if he should be needed; close to the men and a little more aware of what occurred. There were several times in recent months that he thought seriously about moving back into the fort. It wasn't really an option, now, though. Not with Lily in his care—she needed a proper home.
That was, of course, assuming she would remain in his care.
Entering the small, familiar set of rooms, he was hit even more by a kind of homesickness. It was moments like this that made him wish he were still here. It wasn't a bad place, but smaller than the house he currently occupied. Still, possibilities sprang to mind as he glanced around. Behind and to his left, a throat was cleared. James spun, his gaze landing on Cecil. "I see you have, indeed, been most accommodating for Mister Birch."
"When he asked for a spare uniform and told us what he planned, I thought you might like a bit of help and a chance to wash up a little," the man said, offering the clothes. James smiled, gave a short nod, and walked to the other side of the room to his former bedroom.
Brief moments later, James emerged from the set of rooms dressed in dry clothes and feeling very much refreshed. He also felt more like himself in both mind and body. He was more confident, now, about remaining in control and knew it was high time he paid a visit to Silas Cooper.
As he made his way toward the jail, he began thinking about what he would say and do to the man once he stood face to face with him. On a whim, he caught the first four marines he saw and asked them to accompany him. Thoughts of what Lily had been through again taunted him, but this time, he refused to allow them to provoke his temper, determined to keep his head.
Nearing the door leading down to the cells, he could hear the prisoners yelling back and forth, insulting each other and laying the blame for being captured on what sounded to be the same individuals. He nodded to the guards on either side, who saluted, then opened the door for him. Walking down the steps, he straightened, pulling an air of command tightly around himself.
Stepping away from the last step, he clasped his hands behind his back and halted a short distance from the cells. All chatter stopped. He swept his gaze around, letting it linger briefly on each man as he sought the source of Lily's torment. He finally found him at the back, lying on a bit of straw. Once he settled his gaze on the man, those standing between moved back and cleared a path.
"Wot did you do, Cooper?"
" 'e's givin' ye th' look o' th' devil 'imself, 'e is."
"Wot th' devil did you do to 'im, Coop?"
It was then, with all the various whispers and mutterings that James knew no conversation could be had with the man before this rabble. "Gentlemen, escort Silas Cooper to my office, if you please," James said to the soldiers as he unlocked the cell. He then stepped aside to wait for them to take the man away and made sure the cell door was again secure. He followed closely behind the escort so that he could keep an eye on the prisoner, as well. He didn't usually interact with the prisoners after they'd been locked away, but the matter of why this particular man had done what he did plagued him incessantly, and as sure as the sun was shining, he would have answers.
Upon reaching his office, James gestured for two of the marines to stand guard outside the door. The other two stood just inside the door and, judging by the expression on either face, he guessed that they were two that had been around Lily when she explored the fort under Nathan's watchful eye. He knew they wouldn't hesitate to shoot, should he try to escape.
Turning his attention to Cooper, James stood rigid and fixed him with an unrelenting gaze. There were subtle features he saw that Lily had gained from him, but only enough to prove that this was, indeed, her father. It was in the set of his eyes, the curl of his hair, and the shape of his nose.
"I 'eard you was keen on 'angin' pirates, but I didn't think you'd be th' type to single out a scallywag such as meself. What d'you want wif a lubber like me? I ain't been at it long enough to warrant this kind o' treatment."
James allowed a blink of a smile. "Yes, I suppose that does seem to be the reason I brought you here, doesn't it." He paused, then stepped around the man to stand in front of his desk. "I don't suppose you recall entering into an agreement of indentured servitude, do you?" James asked carefully, raising an eyebrow.
"An' if I did?"
James dropped any pretense of amusement and pleasantries. "I think you might benefit to know that there is nothing I detest more than an individual who goes back on their word or contract."
"So I boarded the wrong boat," Cooper shrugged.
"That is not what Captain Henderson told me when he delivered your young daughter to me."
"Is that 'oo that poppet was, then?" James expression hardened, but before he could say or do anything, Cooper's own expression changed abruptly. He now seemed stunned; haunted. His entire demeanor changed. "The image of 'er mother, she is. I thought I'd seen 'er before." He focused on James suddenly, pulling himself out of memory. "Why'd she 'ide from me? Why was she scared o' me if she's me own daughter?" he demanded.
James remained as he was. "I should think it has to do with seeing her mother killed, as well as the scars on her back and the other beatings you gave her," he answered steadily, though perhaps a little overly harsh.
Cooper flinched visibly. "I s'pose it does."
"Why?" James asked. The other man gave him a confused look. "Why—How could you bring yourself to beat so small a child? So bad so, that she now has horrible scars all down her back?" It was simply beyond his comprehension and had been the reason for so many sleepless nights in the past month. He needed answers, and wouldn't rest until he had them.
Cooper shrugged slightly, seeming quite melancholy now. "I don't know, meself. I was prolly drunk out o' me mind. Don't really 'member much about it. All I knew was that wench next door—Emily was 'er name, I think—kep' 'er fer three weeks an' wouldn't lemme get near 'er to take 'er 'ome afore then."
That explained much. "I can imagine why. Especially when one considers the nightmares she's had that are so bad that one has trouble waking her from them; nightmares that center around you and how you treated her and her mother."
Cooper flinched again, nodding. Silence stretched, giving James the impression that the man was truly repentant. "I saw 'ow the two o' you were, though. Down at the docks. 'ow you were together an' I been thinkin'. I know it don't 'elp me position none, but I am sorry 'bout what I did to 'er an' Ellen."
"I am glad to know that, however I am not the one who should hear this sentiment."
He nodded, then. "Can—can you send fer 'er then?"
"I can," James answered with a short nod. He quickly walked to the door and asked one of the outside guards to do just that. Before James could do or say anything else, Lily's father spoke again.
"I was also thinkin' that if you was willin', I want you to 'ave 'er. Legal I mean—wif your name an' all—she don't need my name foulin' 'er up later. I know me own parents can't give 'er what you can. Neither can Ellen's. 's one o' the reasons I sent 'er 'ere to you." He paused, his expression somewhat sheepish. "Well, that an' she was in me way all the time." He quickly turned serious again, though. "Will you take 'er?"
"I will," James answered solemnly. "I would be honored to call such a girl my own daughter." Cooper gave a curt nod, then sagged in relief.
"I want Papa James!" came a wail from the hallway. James glanced at the door, but couldn't help noticing the sad, accepting look on the other man's face.
"Already seems t' think that way anyway," Silas muttered.
The door opened shortly to admit a tear-streaked child, who ran straight to James, followed by Arthur Birch. James knelt to catch Lily, but remained where he was. "I was returning to see if you needed any further assistance and was intercepted by Mister Craig and Lily. He asked me to bring her the rest of the way. I hope you don't mind."
"Of course not. As a matter of fact, I just sent for her," James answered, then turned to the child clinging to his arm. "Lily, your father has something he would like to tell you." Lily kept her hold on him, but focused on her father.
"R—Lily, I—I'm sorry fer 'ow I treated you. The beatin's and all. Norrington 'ere'll be your new papa, a'right?"
She nodded, though she stepped no closer to him. She opened her mouth, but was interrupted by a knock on the door. Gabriel Stone poked his head in. "Pardon the intrusion, Sir, but Governor Swann is here and asks to speak with you at your earliest convenience."
"Please send him in now, Lieutenant. There is a matter he might help us with."
"Aye, Sir." The young lieutenant disappeared again, but appeared shortly after, opening the door for the governor.
"Commodore Norrington, the lieutenant, here, said I might be able to help with something?" Weatherby asked as he stepped into the office.
"There is, indeed," he answered.
"I'd like 'im to 'ave me daughter. Legal wise," Cooper said, gesturing toward James.
"Yes. We would like your assistance in drawing up the necessary papers, if you've time." He turned to his aide. "Lieutenant, will you please escort Lily into Lieutenant Gillette's care?"
"Aye, Sir."
James gently pushed her toward the younger man. "Run along, Lily. I shall collect you in a bit."
Lily nodded, but paused and looked up at her father long and hard as she passed him. James couldn't help but wonder what thoughts might be chasing through her mind. "Goo'bye, Papa."
Author's Responses:
oi-oi-oi: [blushes] Thank you. I'm flattered to see how highly you think of my story, and happy to know that I seem to be keeping things fairly true to history. I agree about Jack, though, I may try bringing him into a story eventually. Not for another few stories, however. I still have two that would need to be finished before I do that particular story.
Ginny 3000: Welcome! And thank you! I do try to make most of my characters enjoyable…
Lady Tanarion: Welcome and thank you, to you too! One thing about me, is I have this nasty affection for cliffhangers. If I can ever get my other stories done and ready enough to post here, that will most likely become obvious. I do try to be nice about most of them, though. As much as I can, anyway. Some just beg to stay nasty, though… Blame them. I'm glad you like 'my' Norrington. When I see how most others write him, I just have to shake my head. I don't read all that much in the Pirates of the Caribbean category much anymore, because a lot of people don't stay true to character very well. And Lily can be difficult to write, but I just do my best, and try to remember how the children I've been around in the past phrase their sentences.
Lady Tolwen: No, I don't hate you. I have a hard time bringing myself to hate someone, and your concerns were legitimate. Two days, eh? I hope you felt your time well-spent! :p I not only dislike Will and Elizabeth, but I barely tolerate them at all. I skip through most scenes with them anymore. You might have to give me a clearer example, though. I've never read Silas Marner or anything like that, so I'm afraid I don't really know what you mean. I'd love to know, though, if you're willing to share. I haven't been able to think of many very good ways for Lily to get in trouble with James. Thank you for your wonderful review!
tinkerbell: I hope you were able to get some sleep, last week… I didn't mean for it to be that suspenseful. :p Thank you, and you're right: I'll be keeping my secrets for now… sorry. :p
Lirenel: Welcome! Thank you! I'm glad you liked this little tidbit of a story and how I've portrayed Norrington.
Moonbeam: Lily thanks you for the hug, and her father was a prisoner—of the pirate variety to be exact, so…
RareReality: You're quite welcome, both in response to your thank you, and as a first time reviewer here. I'm just glad you like my writing… :p I plan to continue writing Norrington stories. I have three others already planned, two already begun, one I hope to start posting after I finish this one. It may be a bit, as I like to get a few chapters ahead at first, though, but then again, I may start the week following this one's last chapter. You never know with me. This particular story, however, is nearly finished. It will be expanded on in one of the two I already have started. ;)
Jaina Kenobi: Thank you! I'm pleased to have kept you guessing. :p That gives me an idea of how I give things away and such, and I like to keep people guessing as long as possible, I guess. :p
Carmen Riviera: Yes, more cliffhangers. I just can't help myself. Thanks! :D
Keindra: Don't worry. She's fine. Her father never lays a hand on her. And about the shortness…well, I had to cut it off somewhere, so it got it there. Thank you! :)
Myself: No need to apologize. My lack of posting over a week no doubt throws people. If anyone would need to apologize, it would be me, I think. And yes, the new captain has met Mary Kate before. As for competition for Norrington, I'm keeping my lips zipped for now. There will be more of Mary Kate and Lily in one of the other two stories anyway. Plus, I feel like being slightly mean at the moment, I guess. And if I'd left Cooper hanging in the last chapter, I couldn't have what happened in this chapter happen, now could I? :p ;) It's in knots now? I hadn't thought it to be that twisted around, but I'll take your word for it. I'm not so good a judge in things like that sometimes. Particularly when it comes to my own stories. Poke all you want. Little reminders like that simply tell me how much you enjoy what I write, and don't ever worry about the length of your reviews. If need be, there's always email if you want to.
Kramedart Trademark: Welcome and thank you! I'm glad you like that little nickname, and yes, it had to be a cliffhanger. I love using them too much, though it hadn't really sunken in that it was one until I got some of my first reviews, I think…
Eledhwen: Thanks! I thought so too, and he's definitely a bad 'un, though maybe not completely bad…
Wellduh…: Welcome, and thank you to you as well. The neighbor next door has a son that recently turned four. Some of Lily has been based on him, along with a few other very young children I've been around at one point or another, some of which weren't quite three yet. I've tried to keep her based on that age as much as possible, and my neighbor's son is pretty good with words and putting together sentences, if that's what you mean. :p Lily's almost four, too, though, so… And yes, "gaeruil" means "seaweed" in Sindarin elvish. I'll go by either one or both. :p
cheska: Eep! Is that a hint? :p Thank you, though, and don't worry. My time doesn't really get wasted, unless it's when I'm being forced to take classes I feel are unnecessary…like public speaking or something. And competition for Norrington is a possibility…
BlackJackSilver: No need to apologize for late reviews. As I see it, it's better late than no review at all. Me? A monster? :p Actually, the only kind of boat I've ever been on is a flat-bottom john boat, or a bass boat or a pontoon or ski boat on the local lakes. I've never even laid eyes on the ocean. I've been able to read a couple Horatio Hornblower books, though, and have watched Master and Commander a few times. Other than that, I research a lot about ships and what times were like back then. I even bought a book called Seamanship in the Age of Sail. I haven't gotten a chance to read it all yet, though—I've only made it to the fourth or fifth chapter and it's very heavy reading. As for reading Dickens, I think the only thing I've read of his is Great Expectations and even then, it was around seven or eight years ago. I'm glad you liked chapter 14 as you did, though. :D And I hope this last chapter dealt with her father in a satisfactory manner.
Rusty Button: Welcome! And thank you for your review! Does the ending of this chapter answer your question? :p
I made a slight edit to chapter 12. My mother pointed out a historical inaccuracy in that chapter that also happened to be one of her pet peeves when it comes to movies and stories, [blushes] so it's fixed now. It was just a technicality concerning women, horses and that time period anyway.
On another note, I have one full page already written out on the next and last chapter of this little story. As I stated above, though, it is, by no means, the end of this little tale. The other stories will only expand with these characters. This one was only a small, detailed extension of one of them anyway. I'll do my best to have it done and posted on time next weekend, but we'll just have to wait and see.
- Gaeruil Seaweed :p