Lost

The Governor's carriage rolled into the Fort, led by the thundering hooves of the two draft horses pulling it.  It came slowly to a stop and Governor Swann stepped down and offered Elizabeth a hand.  They had come to check on Katherine's condition while Will was off working on the latest order Commodore Norrington had placed for the new Midshipmen joining the Port Royale fleet. 

The distinguished pair made their way through the courtyard and entered the hospital wing, walking silently through the corridors.  Weatherby felt compelled to visit and offer his assistance; Elizabeth joined him because she could not fathom staying away at a time like this.  Despite the embarrassing encounter with Katherine the day before, Elizabeth felt genuinely concerned for both her and the Commodore.  She had spent several hours out of guilt pouring over Katherine's words and the events involving the Black Pearl.  Had she really hurt the Commodore that much?  Elizabeth had given it little thought, and reassured herself that Norrington was a strong, charming gentleman and could do quite well without her.  He seemed to accept it so well that day on the battlements – he simply stepped aside with dignity and did not appear to look back.

Or did he?

For some reason this question was bothering Elizabeth to no end.  It racked her brain even as she approached the eastern wing of the ward where Katherine was located.  A small knot began to form in Elizabeth's stomach as they drew near in anticipation of seeing Norrington.  The situation had become that much more awkward for Elizabeth now that she was taking note of her past actions.  She drew a breath and tightened her grasp on her father's arm as the two rounded the corner and found Lievtenant Gillette sitting with his head in his hands, his uniform hat hanging between two indifferent fingers.   Beyond him surgeon Aiden Quinlan was comforting Melissa, who was openly weeping.

Elizabeth paused.  Quinlan stood and approached, looking worn well beyond his years.  His grizzled hair was disheveled and his face seemed to fall with each step.  She did not know the surgeon well, but she could always count on the Irishman to be lively.  He stopped just in front of the Governor and Elizabeth.    It didn't happen…she assured herself.  But the circumstances convinced her otherwise.

Quinlan waited a long while before drawing a breath to speak.  "Governor Swann, Miss Elizabeth…I regret to say that Miss Katherine passed not too long ago," he said wearily.  He looked down to the floor as Weatherby stiffened. 

"Good God…" the Governor whispered.

Elizabeth looked over to the surgeon.  "Is the Commodore with her now?" she inquired suddenly.

Quinlan paused, unsure of what to say.  Finally, he said quietly, "The Commodore went home for a moment and is about to return…I'm afraid he does not yet know, Miss Elizabeth." 

Elizabeth's stomach suddenly felt like stone.  He does not know?  How would he receive the news?  She drew a breath before quickly moving from her father's side over to Melissa and sitting next to her, the concern evident in her expression.  "I am so sorry," Elizabeth consoled.  She gently took Melissa's shaking hand and helped to comfort her best she could.  Elizabeth remained by Melissa and watched as Weatherby discussed the situation with Quinlan.  They were deep in conversation when footsteps were heard down the hall.  Everyone paused in nervous anticipation, and their worst fears came true when the figure rounded the corner.  It was Commodore Norrington.

James had returned home for a fresh uniform, to alert the house staff to Katherine's condition, and a bite to eat.  He spent about 20 minutes sprawled out on the couch, then made his way back to the Fort, completely unaware of what had occurred.  He strode down the corridor with purpose, hoping to make it back to see Katherine before the Governor arrived and the pleasantries began.  As James approached, he could see that he had failed on that account.  He slowed his step and greeted Swann and Quinlan.  Norrington became uneasy at their solemn expressions and sheer lack of conversation.  He glanced over his left shoulder and saw Gillette cradling his head in his hands, and Elizabeth in the corner with Melissa.  Elizabeth glanced over to the Commodore almost with pity; she was worried how he would take the news of his sister's death.

"What in God's name has happened?" demanded the Commodore as he looked to Quinlan.  He stood stiffly as his left hand gripped the hilt of his sword uneasily.

Aiden stepped forward and looked up at Norrington.  "James…Katherine's injuries were terrible.  There was a lot of bleedin' in her belly and it just got to be too much.  She died, James.  I'm so sorry, lad…"

Quinlan's words sent James's head spinning.  He suddenly found it difficult to breathe.  He stumbled back a step and leaned against the wall for support as he tried to comprehend what had happened.  His gaze moved from Quinlan to the door behind him.  The surgeon continued with his explanation, but though he tried, Norrington could not listen.  He could only rest his head back against the wall and draw suffocated breaths.  Aiden took the Commodore's arm to steady him, but was shaken off as Norrington suddenly straightened himself and made his way past Quinlan to the door.

James entered the silent room and his attention immediately turned to the still figure on the bed.  He approached deftly, as if he were afraid to disturb her, and stopped at the side of the bed and studied Katherine's face.  The pain he had last seen on her features was erased, and she seemed to be so peaceful lying there.  He gazed at her a long while before spying dried blood on the other side of her pillow.  James let his eyes fall to the floor.  He noticed a small object under the bed, retrieved it, and held it up to the light.  It was Katherine's gold necklace with the angel figurine.  Overwhelming guilt and sorrow suddenly swept through him, and he sank to his knees and buried his face in the sheets.  James took Katherine's hand in his as the emotion finally rose to the surface and he wept.  He wept for her pain, for her loss, for the feeling of complete helplessness that had hit him so suddenly.  The choking sobs eventually ceased as he sank further to the floor and slumped against the bed.  This is not happening, he thought as he shut his eyes against cold reality.  He remained there for several minutes against the bed, like a lost dog mourning the loss of his master.  He fingered the necklace and thought about what was, and what could have been.  The devastation had eventually become too much for him to bear, and he slowly drew himself to his feet. 

Elizabeth had been sitting with Melissa when she heard the door open.  Quinlan and Weatherby instinctively stood as the Commodore rounded the corner.  Elizabeth sucked in a breath when she looked at Norrington – his shoulders hung, defeated, and his confident gaze drifted to the floor before making its way around the room.   Melissa finally looked up at him and shook her head in confused grief.

"James…" she murmured, tears once more welling behind her eyes.  He only turned his eyes to the ceiling and drew a number of hurried breaths to keep his own tears at bay.  James looked back down to Matthieu, searching for some reassurance from his trusted second, but he only found a reflection of his own devastation.  Norrington gripped the edge of his uniform hat as he pondered what to do next, then quickly placed it atop his head and started down the corridor.  Melissa moved to follow him, but could not bring herself to take a step.  She sat back once more in the chair.  "He blames himself," she declared, as she absently brushed her blonde hair away from her face.

"Someone needs to talk to him before he does something he'll regret," Elizabeth said.  She looked to Melissa and Matthieu, but both were equally distraught.  Elizabeth made up her mind and started after the Commodore.

James trudged out to the stables, numb and indifferent to the Fort activity around him.  A groom led Darby out, and suddenly the sight of the big grey reminded him of that day on the dock when Katherine arrived to Port Royale.  James smiled slightly as he stroked the horse's velvet nose and looked up at the horse's large brown eyes, which showed the same inherent good nature that Katherine's did.  Darby nudged Norrington as he lowered his head and allowed James to rest his head on his.  They spent a fleeting moment like that before James decided it best to be in private.  He swung up into the saddle and cantered off just as Elizabeth entered the courtyard.  She sighed in frustration before turning back to find her carriage driver.

***

Governor Swann had wanted a word with Lievtenant Gillette shortly after Commodore Norrington had left.  They made their way toward Gillette's office in the western wing of the Fort.  Melissa opted to stay back and wait for James should he return, and Quinlan returned to Katherine's bedside to finish cleaning her up.  Melissa's mind was cloudy with grief.  She felt she could not quite grasp control of the fact that one of her closest acquaintances had just passed.  It was so sudden – Katherine was so full of life when this tragedy occurred.  She had plans for herself and Matthieu.  However, the future was no more, and all Melissa had now was the past, much like James.  Her heart sank at the thought of his reaction and what he must be feeling now.  She desperately wanted to be with him, but she could not bring herself to do it.  He looked like he needed some strong advice, and strength was something Melissa did not believe she had at the moment.  She then thought about Matthieu – he had less than either Melissa or James.  They had years of memories, while he had only months.  He, too, had plans for his future with Katherine.  Why must things happen like this?  Melissa had lost both of her parents, and though she was devastated at their loss, she took comfort in the fact that they were now together with God and had accomplished great things in their lives.  Katherine was only 22, and had only begun to live.  Melissa was so deep in thought that she hardly took notice of the approaching uniform. 

"Good day, Miss Reynolds.  I did not expect to find you here," Captain Thomas Martin declared as he folded his rough hands behind his back.

Melissa looked up and then stood, reminding herself to be civil.  James and Matthieu and departed enough tales of Martin's attitude to shy her away from him whenever possible.  But this time she found herself cornered, and only hoped that he should go away soon enough.  "Captain," she greeted.  She was too emotionally drained to add pleasantries.

"Might I inquire as to why a fine lady such as yourself is sitting alone?" he asked, taking a step toward her.

Melissa shifted slightly as she thought of what to say.  "I am waiting on Commodore Norrington," she said flatly.

"Hardly the conduct of a gentleman to leave his lady by herself in such a dreary atmosphere," Martin declared as his lifted his chin confidently and took another step.  He had been watching her since she had arrived, and was attracted to her beauty.  What could she possibly see in that twit, he always thought when he saw her with Norrington. 

"I beg your pardon, Captain Martin.  I am afraid the Commodore had a loss in the family.  Someone very dear to both him and myself," Melissa asserted.  She could not believe the comments coming out of Martin's mouth, though she admitted to herself that it was not completely surprising.

The Captain paused and allowed his hands to fall to his sides.  His mouth twisted into what Melissa believed was a frown, though it was difficult to say with his usual displeased features.  "I suppose that would be Miss Norrington.  Fell off the battlement yesterday afternoon.  Tragic, very tragic…" Martin declared as his eyes trailed up from the floor to Melissa's face.  "Especially considering she was under the Commodore's care at the time.  She should have been supervised."

"He was out on patrol, Captain Martin," Melissa affirmed as she straightened herself up.  The anger was beginning to take over for her overwhelming sadness as she defended James.  "Do not go blaming this on the Commodore, sir.  He surely does not deserve your slander."

Martin scoffed.  "Much like I do not deserve to be serving under a bloody cabin boy who cannot keep his half wit sister under control?" he asked brusquely.  He stepped toward Melissa once more as she backed away.  He lowered his voice into a harsh whisper as he inched closer.  "Much like you do not deserve a man who obviously does not properly care for the women in his life." 

Melissa stopped retreating and stood fast in front of Martin.  His words were sharp as the blade at his side, and intended to hurt.  Anger crossed her pale expression as she quickly stepped forward and brought her hand across Martin's cheek with a resounding slap.  He recoiled momentarily before gathering himself back up and grasping Melissa's arm roughly.

"You will regret that," he hissed as he drew her closer to him.  Melissa cringed as hot breath fell upon her neck.  She pulled away, but his grasp was firm as he continued to stare at her.  "No one seems to understand the concept of respect in this damn town."

"Unhand her, Captain Martin!"

Melissa looked over Martin's left shoulder as he released her, and saw Governor Swann standing officially in the corridor, flanked by Quinlan and Gillette, who was ready to draw his sword.  "It seems as if you do not understand the concept of 'respect' either, Mister Martin.  A gentleman never places his hands on a lady in such a fashion."

"Governor Swann," Martin greeted hastily.

"You will be sure to enjoy your command from the brig, Captain, or perhaps not at all," Swann retorted.  "Leave at once."  Martin glared back over his shoulder to Melissa before smoothing the lapels of his uniform coat and stepping hurriedly past the group and continuing down the corridor.   Once he was gone, Weatherby quickly moved to Melissa's side as she stretched out her arms for support.  He caught her and gently sat her down as her angered façade begin to fade and the tears came once more. 

Quinlan kneeled in front of her and gave a reassuring smile.  "Aye lass, 'tis a good thing ye did that, because if ye didn't, I sure as hell would've.  And I would not have been nice about it, either!"

***

Commodore Norrington rode for what seemed like an eternity.  He had no direction – he simply allowed Darby to carry him wherever the grey's legs would travel.  Once well away from the Fort, James turned the horse away from the public road and started toward the bluff where he had found Matthieu and Katherine that one day.  It was the one place he thought he could be alone.

Elizabeth had urged the driver to follow Norrington best he could, but they soon lost track of the pair ahead of them.  They carried on after inquiring some passing townspeople if the Commodore had passed by, and eventually came to the softer road where the large hoof prints of Norrington's grey gelding were easily visible.  Elizabeth reassured the driver and carefully the horses moved forward along the overgrown road.  Moments later the carriage came to a halt.

"There's a horse up ahead, Miss," the driver called from his seat.  Elizabeth stuck her head out the window and saw Darby grazing contently on his own.  Her brow furrowed.  Where is the Commodore?  She quickly climbed out of the carriage and instructed the driver to wait for her there, at a distance.  Elizabeth gazed down the road and spotted a figure by the lone tree overlooking the scenic bluff.  She drew a breath before starting slowly toward it.  What was she going to say to him?  His expression haunted her, and Katherine's words began to play over and over in her head.  Elizabeth hesitated and she slowed her approach, hoping that perhaps Norrington would see her and invite her over.

But no such thing happened.  Elizabeth came to a complete stop as she gazed over to the tree.  There was the Commodore, apparently oblivious to her presence, with an arm up against the trunk of the tree, and his head hanging.  She watched as he suddenly lashed out with his right fist and struck the rough bark with the welling frustration inside him.  He then threw himself at the tree and sank to the ground.  Elizabeth ran to his side.

"Commodore," she called as she approached.  She slowed to a walk as she drew near his slumped figure.  She had never seen him like this before in their eight years of acquaintance, and it troubled her.  Elizabeth stopped and came to face him.  He did not move, even to address her presence.  "James…I'm so sorry," she managed as she stared down at him.  He narrowed his eyes and drew several deliberate breaths to calm himself, but still did not look up to address her.  Elizabeth finally grew impatient and took action, kneeling beside him.  She smoothed out her skirts, but as she looked up at the Commodore, something struck her.  Was he crying?  No.  But he wanted to…

James took little notice of Elizabeth for the first time since they had met.  He could only sit there, completely deadened to anything around him.  His gaze fell upon the ocean, but he did not see.  Elizabeth was speaking, but he did not hear.  His thoughts were fixed on his sister.  Katherine was his dreadnought, the driving force in his life, which had just foundered beneath him from a broadside assault, leaving him with nothing to hold onto.  James felt as if he was lost in a deadly storm as the vast sea of despair moved to swallow him whole.  His emotions were no longer a mystery – the loss and devastation was written on his face for all to see.  He suddenly was so vulnerable.

Elizabeth sat with him a moment before noticing his right hand.  The gash across the top of his knuckles was bleeding quite freely over his uniform, but he paid it no attention.  "You're bleeding," she said suddenly, but evoked no response from Norrington.  She drew a slow breath before pleading with him.  "James please, let me help."

He simply shook his head slightly and continued to gaze out to sea.  Elizabeth could sense the wall forming around him.  "What happened was awful, but you cannot go blaming yourself for this.  It was an accident, James," she assured him.  Elizabeth's words seemed to break the barrier between them as the tears began to well in James's eyes.  He clenched his left hand into a fist and closed his eyes as he fought back his emotions in vain.  He wanted to let go; he wanted desperately to confide in someone.  A whirlwind of feelings was sweeping through him and he could not decipher any of them.  His world was falling apart and he felt helpless to stop it.

Elizabeth saw him fighting back the tears and suddenly pitied him for his struggle.  Propriety be damned...She quickly took his fist in her hands, which had the desired effect.  James reluctantly surrendered to his emotions and began to cry openly as he collapsed forward.  Elizabeth caught him and brought his head to rest on her shoulder as her left cheek brushed up against his dark hair.  She closed her eyes and drew a slow breath as she cradled him and let him do the one thing he could do nowhere else.  They remained braced up against each other for some time before Elizabeth gathered her composure to speak.

"I am so sorry," she whispered.  Elizabeth wanted to confess her wrong doing all at once, but she had no idea how to express herself now.  She fought back her own tears as she continued.  "Katherine loved you, James.  I…never saw through it, what I did to you.  Perhaps I thought about it out of guilt, I don't know, but I should never have used you like that.  I cannot even begin to ask for forgiveness." 


Author's Note:

I appreciate everyone being patient with the progress of Broadsides.  I realize I have not updated recently, but I assure you, this story WILL be completed.

And please take note of some subtle changes in this chapter.