Norrington stepped out of the cabin, his cabin which he was so generously lending to sea-scum, and onto deck. The air around was still cool, but it wouldn't stay that way for long...there was never such luck on the Caribbean with that. Already rays from the helios high in the heavens were starting to beat down upon the powerful force of the ocean, the land and man alike. He took in a deep inhale of the crisp air that had no exposure to the filth of tamed, colonized lands. Though it did not hold any of those evils in its composition the air was thick with a bittersweet sort of mixture of the crimes of the sea and the innocence of itself. It was a child, a child that he sought to discipline and make safe.
He could linger no longer; the men were already at work and shuffling about their duties as tired hands would do. A sudden anxiety seeped into him and his heart clenched tightly in his chest. It was now he realized the seriousness of what he was doing, what the consequences were if the crew discovered. They certainly weren't England's brightest, anywhere's brightest for that manner, but certain people were sharp as a tack and persuasive. Those were two deadly factors Norrington had no intention of dealing with. He rolled his shoulders briefly, it was off to have them out of a rigid position for once, and started forward, head lowered slightly. As soon as it was raised he met the mousy features of Lieutenant Gillette. His eyes widened a moment and he took half a step back. Turning his head off to the side slightly he took a deep inhale of oxygen in order to hold in an explicit comment on Gillette's surprise.
"Apologies, Sir. I thought you might have seen me."
"What is the manner of your addressing me?" asked Norrington rather impatiently.
"The men haven't exactly," he paused in thought, "settled, Sir. They stay awake after the respective sleeping time and chatter on about nonsense like pirates that haunt this fine vessel of the Royal Crown and noises from above deck."
Norrington continued to gaze at him expectantly for a moment. There was a brief silence after the lieutenant brought his concern to attention...Norrington had expected him to say a bit more. Once he was certain he would get nothing more out of the lower-ranking officer he cleared his throat in attempt to mask his expectancy and make it seem as though he had lost himself in thought.
"They're fresh, young blood, Gillette. They're bound to suspect something under every floorboard and all that nonsense." He offered a ghost of a smile, "They'll settle in time when they find the job to be more work than play."
Gillette raised his head ready to interject but submitted to the Commodore with a sigh. "Yes, but understand, Sir, that their concern lies with the noises they hear on deck. It is also quite unsettling that you should choose to bunk below with us rather than to remain on deck with the charts. On the topic of the charts you have not allowed us access to these charts of our destination yet. We have no idea what we are sailing in to, that even has me unsettled, Commodore."
Norrington had found Gillette's concerns a bit too much. His gut wretched and his chest felt as if it started to cave in, lungs lacking air and beginning to close in on themselves. His lips parted slightly to keep his vital process of breathing going as the rest of his senses were going crazy. Mentally he cursed himself and tried to get a hold of his spasmodic nature and suppress it to the cool one he always had.
"Lieutenant, I really am at a loss for words. It is enough that the crew doesn't trust my judgment, but a senior officer is a greater blow. Certainly you know I have never steered us in the wrong direction and I always put others before myself. Is that so farfetched?"
Gillette fell silent again and averted his gaze from the Commodore to the deck for a moment. "I really don't know what to believe after that rash behavior at Miss Swann, or Mrs. Turner's wedding rather," he said softly before managing to look at Norrington again. His gaze was firm now, not hesitating in the least. Norrington's eyes narrowed slightly in disapproval, but he was more shocked than anything else. The action was masked over by his eyes that widened in shock after their brief narrowing. He couldn't think of anything to say, lips parted and parched for some sort of retort. Gillette, seemingly pained by his expression, spoke before Norrington could look dumbfounded any longer.
"Perhaps you could just show the men inside your quarters? Assure them that nothing is indeed wrong?"
"No," Norrington answered rather surprisingly and quickly.
"Surely you don't expect us to last an entire voyage with no chart and rumors spreading like wildfire!"
"You're out of order, Gillette."
"Those are the exact circumstances to find yourself in a mutiny! A mutiny of fine, English lads! How odd it sounds, but it's entirely possible! The sea does many things to-"
"I pray you're affected by the sea and truly not defying me willingly. It would be a pity to see you court-martialed."
Gillette froze for an instant before taking a step closer to Norrington. He had to look up to make direct eye contact with the man, but he established it quite well. He started at the Commodore in disbelief, "Commodore! Keeping word from the men will do no good on anyone's part...only raise suspicion and the evils that linger in all men."
"No, and no it shall remain."
"Allow them a peek into the cabin?"
"No."
Gillette's cheeks flushed bright pink, his watery, squinted eyes narrowed even more. He strode past the commodore in a huff and stalked towards the captain's cabin. "I have been within those very walls just a few days ago when we first set sail in the morning! Why shall I not have privileges now?"
"Lieutenant stand down!"
"I will once I have settled this and saved all our hides!"
The men had drawn attention to themselves, much more than was needed. All the hands on deck now turned towards the cabin and watched both men rush towards it to make it first. It much resembled an old schoolyard fight back in England, a brief fond memory that excited the young men tending to the ship. Most, those who could, crept away from their positions and followed the squabbling pair towards the cabin. They had come within a yard's distance when Gillette's hand landed upon the handle and Norrington swiped at it in attempt to get it off.
All the men stared in awe as the door swung open and they found...
