If you really can't remember, go back and have a look at the disclaimer in chapter one. I shan't remind you twice.

Author's Note:

Oh! I forgot to mention in chapter one, for those of you reading who aren't from the NDL and don't already know a good portion of what this story is about -- it's going to be slash. Rochefort and Norrington slash. Nothing graphic, dears, but if that sort of thing offends your delicate sensibilities, I believe the 'back' button is in that direction. Have a nice day.

Oh, and there's a line Rochefort says that you may find familiar. That's deliberate.

The chapter title is a line Michael Wincott says in "The Count Of Monte Cristo", as Dorleac.

(All shall worship Michael Wincott, the ev0l sex on two legs)

…also, this is not as funny as the first chapter. It gets all serious. Just so you know.

***

An Exercise In International Relations

Chapter Two: "God, I'm so bored."

In which Rochefort pisses people off.

***

Gautier Rochefort was bored.

He had explored the house thoroughly. He had read a few of the more interesting books backwards. He had actually sat down with a ball of yarn he'd pilfered from one of the maids and played with the cat. (Which, quite honestly, would do nothing for his reputation if it ever got out)

However…

He had heard the most interesting of rumors about young Mr Turner, regarding his skill with a blade -- making or wielding. He also heard that the blacksmith had 'stolen away' the good Commodore's bride-to-be, Miss Elizabeth Swann, now Mrs Turner. That part didn't really concern him, though he did file it away in case the knowledge came in handy.

Turner, it appeared, was quite the opponent. He had focus, and all the skill he was famed for. The boy had a talent he hadn't struck in years. He was actually a challenge, Rochefort was somewhat surprised to discover.

He was also aware they'd gained an audience, but he couldn't say he cared. This was highly enjoyable, and at the very least relieved the boredom.

*

"Sir?" Gillette cleared his throat.

Norrington didn't look up from the report. "Yes, Gillette?"

"I think you may want to see this, sir."

*

He's not fighting; he's dancing, Norrington observed as he watched. That was the difference between Rochefort and Turner -- the former was treating it as a game, whereas the latter took everything entirely too seriously, including this. Rochefort looked like he was having a brilliant time of it, and played to the crowd, pausing theatrically every so often to wave at a variety of pretty young ladies.

"Hmmm…non." It was uncertain as to what Rochefort was talking about…right up until he calmly tripped Turner and touched the point of his sword oh-so-lightly to his throat. "I win."

"That wasn't fair!"

"What world are you living in, boy? There is no such thing as fair. Merely what you can or cannot do, and what you will or will not do." Rochefort offered him a hand up -- he took it, clearly with reluctance.

"And what will you do, Mr Rochefort?" Turner asked, suspiciously.

"What won't I do, Monsieur Turner, is a much better question." Rochefort's smile didn't reach his eyes, and Turner's eyes were drawn to where he still toyed with his sword.

Norrington agreed, silently. And wondered.

***

"Was that display truly necessary?"

Rochefort glanced up from the book he was reading, vague amusement lighting his eyes. "I merely did what the entire town thinks you are too good of a man to want done." He tilted his head, examining Norrington. "Or perhaps you truly are that good of a man. An intriguing thought." He considered it a moment, then shrugged. "In any case, I was bored. The boy learned a valuable lesson."

"What? That Frenchmen cheat?" Norrington spat.

Rochefort laughed -- it was rather infuriating. "That was unworthy of you, mon ami."

"I am no friend of yours."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. He learned not to tangle with the unknown…not to allow overconfidence to best him…not to trust that all men will follow the rules as you and he do."

Norrington thought of Sparrow, and shook his head. "Oh, I think he learned that already."

"Then I reminded him, and it was a timely reminder. I could have killed that child out there, and he never would have even understood how it happened."

"You underestimate him."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." Rochefort shut the book with a decisive snap. "Step with care, Norrington. None see so clear as the outsider."

In her corner, Liza watched her pets bicker. Her new pet was very different to her old pet, and spent much more time with her. She liked him. Her old pet, though, she loved him, too.

She hoped her boys wouldn't bicker too long. They had lots of sharp things, and blood got everywhere.

Besides. Her new pet was already broken, he could only see half the world, she didn't need two broken pets.

Liza thought humans were very silly sometimes.