A Sparrow's Daughter
By Anlei
Chapter Nine
Annabelle could hardly contain her excitement as she walked home. She was finally going to find him, after twenty years of wanting to know him she finally had the chance.
She began wondering what kind of man her father was like. Sure, she knew bits and pieces from Will's story but she wondered what he was really like. Will had only known her father for a short time. She wanted to know what a lifetime had shaped him into. More and more she began to question why her mother had left him. There must have been something that her mother didn't like to make her leave. Did she love him? Did he love her?
As far as she knew her mother had never been with another man. At least if she did, she kept it well hidden from Annabelle. Her mother spent nearly all of her time with her when she wasn't working.
Why had her mother given her the name Sparrow if she seemingly wanted to forget him? At least now she knew where it came from. But it gave her little else.
She wasn't sure how she felt about the story Will Turner had told her. Cursed gold? Pirates that couldn't be killed? It all sounded silly when she thought back on it. Though Will had said that whether or not the tale of the curse was believable wasn't the issue. It was the fact that her father was indeed a good man...despite the fact that he enjoyed acts of piracy and wasn't afraid to kill a man if necessary.
It was exhausting to have lived knowing two different worlds. She was born into her mother's, a world of social exile from the upper levels society and acceptance from its underbelly. A life where the only law she was taught was to live for herself. Then there was Norrington's world, a place where a woman must always know her place and that certain rules must be followed in polite society. If she were to willingly enter her father's world, the world her mother lived in, could she do it? Could she cast away seven years of propriety?
She had the chance to live just as a respectable woman should live, polite, demure, and domesticated. But she also had the chance to turn away from all that and understand what it was truly like to live without rules and disregard the laws of the land. Once she stepped into that world she knew there was little chance of returning to the one she now knows.
The desire to find her father overwhelmed any other wish she had. She would gladly give away polite society to sit down and talk with him. She smiled to herself. She could hardly believe she even had the opportunity. It was only hours ago that she had truly lost all hope of knowing her father.
She arrived at her house, hardly noticing how far she had walked. Her musings had occupied her mind. Cringing inwardly she knew that Clara would have her head the minute she stepped inside the door. She had been gone for far too long. She'd be lucky if Clara didn't skin her alive. Steeling herself, she opened the back door and quietly walked inside.
Annabelle was greeted with the sight of Norrington and Clara standing in the kitchen. Norrington looked livid while Clara shot her a most disapproving glare. She could feel her stomach tie itself into knots knowing she had no hope of escaping the verbal assault she was sure to suffer.
"I see you've finally decided to grace us with your presence." Norrington spat, clenching his hands behind his back. Annabelle flinched at the harshness of his tone.
"My apologies, sir, I had no intention of being away for so long." She replied meekly, looking down at her feet.
"Just where exactly did you disappear to, Annabelle?" He demanded, moving to stand directly in front of her. She fought not to cower under his angry stare.
"I-I went for a walk." She replied, trying not to sound a weak as she did. She could hear the disbelieving noise he released from his throat.
"You went for a walk? Do you normally take walks for two hours and without completing your daily work? Or have you decided to spite me because of our talk last night?" He demanded hotly.
Annabelle jerked up to look him in the eye. "No! I would never-!" She stopped as he raised his hand to interrupt her.
She could see him fighting to control his temper. He was not so much angry at her for shirking her duties as he was worried about her wellbeing. When he last saw her she was in a terrible state and certainly in no way fit to go off on her own. He didn't want her to do anything that would cause her injury inadvertently.
"I know that you are still upset, Annabelle, but this is no way to behave! I would have expected more from you. I return from the docks so that I may speak with you only to find that you have run off without so much as a warning! You will do well to remember others in your actions!" His reprimand was sharp and Annabelle felt stung. She lowered her face to the ground.
"Yes, sir."
He sighed. He never liked to discipline her but it had to be done. He wanted to quash any sort of rebelliousness she may have felt as a result of the previous night.
"Because of this I'm afraid that you will not be allowed to leave unless I have granted you permission to do so until you have gotten control of yourself. You are only allowed into the market if you are accompanied by Clara and only for household necessities. Is this clear, Annabelle?"
"Yes, sir." Annabelle replied, her voice wavering. Norrington winced inwardly as she shied away from him. He felt that he was pushing her away but if he ignored this excursion then she would no doubt try it again.
"Very well then. I'm sure Clara has work for you to do." He spun on his heel and walked out of the kitchen without another word.
Annabelle was shaking, partially from anger and partially from feeling hurt. She didn't want to be at odds with Norrington but she had no choice. She only hoped that what she was preparing to do would not damage their relationship more than necessary. She turned and looked at Clara who scowled back at her.
"You'll find no pity from me, young miss! You're lucky that I kept my mouth shut when he asked if I knew where you were." Clara hissed.
Annabelle frowned. She was sure she had been careful when she left.
"Don't look so surprised! I saw you speaking to that blacksmith earlier today! I had half a mind to drag you straight home myself and let you know exactly what I thought of this little infatuation you have!" Clara's face was simply furious.
Annabelle looked at her quizzically. Infatuation? She thinks that I have an infatuation with Will? If Annabelle weren't so upset she would have laughed at the thought. Sure, Will Turner was handsome for his age. But to think there was room for anyone in his heart other his wife was ludicrous. She respected him too much to ever think of such a notion.
Annabelle opened her mouth to refute Clara's words before she stopped herself. It couldn't hurt to let Clara believe that she did have feelings for Will. It was far better in any case than telling her the true reason she visited the smithy. Or denying having anything to do with him since she had been seen.
"I was foolish. I apologize Clara." She whispered, wishing she didn't have to lie to the woman who cared for her so much.
Clara's aged face softened slightly. She threw her hands up in exasperation.
"I would have never expected such trouble from you of all people but I suppose it had to happen sooner or later. I had only hoped it would be someone of eligibility! Well, it's of no concern. You will forget about him, do you hear me? I will now allow you to sully your reputation by running after a married man!"
Annabelle nodded. Clara shook her head.
"Good. Now come on, you have many chores to make up for. You skipping out on your chores don't mean they go away by the time you return."
Annabelle nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. Clara took her silence to mean she longed for Will Turner. Walking over to her, she drew the younger girl's hands into her own.
"There are plenty others, my dear, that would be happy to have you. You must forget about him." Clara chided gently.
Annabelle fought the urge to laugh. She schooled her features as best she could before nodding gravely. If there was something she knew she'd miss by leaving, it would be Clara.
"You picked the wrong time to leave, miss. The mistress has us all running around like mad trying to prepare for her eldest. He's returning home soon to celebrate his birthday and we have much work to do." Clara said as she ushered Annabelle about.
"Master James is returning to Port Royle?" Annabelle asked.
"In two days time, I believe." Clara replied.
Annabelle liked Norrington's eldest child, James Norrington II. He was always kind to her when she arrived at the house. He was kind to everyone under his father's employment. Though his mother disapproved of him socializing with any of the serving staff and made sure he refrained from doing it.
He was his father's pride. He'd taken to joining the royal navy and had even become a captain, spending most of his time with his own ship patrolling the eastern shores. This was not to say that Norrington didn't love his youngest son just as much but Eric preferred literature and writing to battling pirates.
Annabelle hoped that the return of his son would brighten Norrington's black mood, even though she was still angry with him. His eldest son brought a smile to his face every time he returned home. He was a bit of a jokester though only in a tasteful manner. They would usually spend time after dinner, just the two of them, in his study playing chess while his youngest son and his wife went off to the library. Reading was their shared passion.
She only hoped that her disappearance wouldn't hinder his good mood. Inside she knew it would. Pushing those thoughts away, she went about her work.
The hours seemed to pass slower than Annabelle would have liked. But it gave her time to formulate a plan of escape. She already knew she would have to sneak out of the house but how to do it without alerting anyone else was the problem.
The easiest way would be to slip out her window because going out the back door meant she'd have to pass the other rooms along the way and the risk of waking someone was greater. She just hoped she could hop out of a window without snagging her dress along the way.
When she finally finished her work, she ate her dinner quickly then was dismissed to her chambers. She removed her shoes and flopped, face down on her bed. She had worked harder than normal and wanted nothing more than to sleep. Despite her body's weariness her mind was alert, reminding her that she had something to do before she could even think of resting. She had to meet Will Turner once the clock struck midnight which she was sure would be soon.
Rolling onto her back she stared up at the ceiling, thinking of her mother. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what happened after they left Spain. It was hard knowing that her mother was dead but never truly knowing the truth of it. She wasn't sure she even wanted to know. She didn't know if she was strong enough to handle it. Her mother was a pirate after all...that could very well mean that Norrington sent her to the gallows with every other pirate he came in contact with. But that thought made her physically sick. She didn't want to think that the man she had come to love and respect almost like a father sent her mother to her grave.
Yet, even though she pushed that thought away it still plagued her from the back of her mind.
Pushing herself off her bed she began to pack her things. There wasn't much that she packed; just a few necessities. The only thing of real value to her was a small shell necklace she'd had since she came to Port Royale. Her mother had given it too her. She picked it up from her dresser, fingering the smooth shell. She slipped it around her neck before taking one last look about the room.
She felt something tug at her heart as she looked around. She may very well never see this place again. That thought made her sad. Somewhere in the house the clock chimed as midnight struck. It was safe for her to leave. She blew out the candle and picked up her shoes with her free hand. She began to quietly make her way to the window.
She prayed silently that Clara would not pick this night to check on her. However, she knew that when Annabelle was very upset that Clara would sometimes look in on her. Placing her things on the bench she walked over to the bed and used some pillows to make it appear as if she were sleeping, just in case. Then, satisfied with her work she turned and slipped out of the window.
Slipping her shoes on, she quickly made way to the smithy. The dregs of society were now roaming the streets. She was careful to avoid walking in dark shadows or running into any marines that patrolled the streets. She arrived at the smithy and knocked lightly on the door.
Will greeted with a smile her then ushered her inside.
"I'm glad to see you made it safely. In hindsight I realized how unsafe it is for a woman to walk the streets at night." He said looking her over.
"I had no trouble." He nodded before leading her to a back room that held a small cot and a table. He had laid out some of his eldest sons clothes for her.
"These are my son, Billy's clothes. He's a bit larger than you but they should fit you fine and hide your figure." He explained. "I'll be outside when you finish."
Annabelle nodded and he stepped outside. She took a moment to look at the clothes. It was a simple pair of breeches with stockings, a peasant blouse, a worn leather belt, and a slightly tattered coat. A small hat lay above it all and a pair of shoes lay at the foot of the small cot. She quickly shed her clothes and changed into the new ones. It felt strangely good to stand in a pair of breeches and not feel the weight of a dress on her body. The shoes were large on her feet but aside from that the clothes fit her fairly well. She felt strangely nude without so many layers.
She took down her hair from the bonnet she wore. A boy would certainly not have hair as long as she did. Grabbing the hat she did her best to tuck it all underneath. When she was finished she went back outside to meet Will.
He chuckled at the sight of her. "You look like a smaller version of your mother dressed like that."
Annabelle smiled, happy in any way to resemble her mother.
"Just remember not to look anyone too hard in the eye. You still have the face of a young woman. I have to warn you, this man's tavern is a haven for many of the folk Norrington would rather not have you associate with. These are men spend their nights drinking rum and causing brawls in the streets. You'll have to be careful and stick close to me." He explained patiently.
"I understand. I won't cause you any trouble, Will." Annabelle assured him.
"Are you ready then?" He asked. She nodded, clutching her bag in her hand. He walked over to the table and picked up with looked like a sword wrapped up in paper. He handed it to her.
"It's Jack's sword. You can give it to him when you run across him." He spoke, watching her slowly take the sword from his hands.
She smiled, grateful for his words. She knew he said "when" to keep her spirits high. She also knew that there was very little chance of finding her father on the vast sea. But she still had hope.
The two of them stepped out of the smithy and made way for the tavern.
By Anlei
Chapter Nine
Annabelle could hardly contain her excitement as she walked home. She was finally going to find him, after twenty years of wanting to know him she finally had the chance.
She began wondering what kind of man her father was like. Sure, she knew bits and pieces from Will's story but she wondered what he was really like. Will had only known her father for a short time. She wanted to know what a lifetime had shaped him into. More and more she began to question why her mother had left him. There must have been something that her mother didn't like to make her leave. Did she love him? Did he love her?
As far as she knew her mother had never been with another man. At least if she did, she kept it well hidden from Annabelle. Her mother spent nearly all of her time with her when she wasn't working.
Why had her mother given her the name Sparrow if she seemingly wanted to forget him? At least now she knew where it came from. But it gave her little else.
She wasn't sure how she felt about the story Will Turner had told her. Cursed gold? Pirates that couldn't be killed? It all sounded silly when she thought back on it. Though Will had said that whether or not the tale of the curse was believable wasn't the issue. It was the fact that her father was indeed a good man...despite the fact that he enjoyed acts of piracy and wasn't afraid to kill a man if necessary.
It was exhausting to have lived knowing two different worlds. She was born into her mother's, a world of social exile from the upper levels society and acceptance from its underbelly. A life where the only law she was taught was to live for herself. Then there was Norrington's world, a place where a woman must always know her place and that certain rules must be followed in polite society. If she were to willingly enter her father's world, the world her mother lived in, could she do it? Could she cast away seven years of propriety?
She had the chance to live just as a respectable woman should live, polite, demure, and domesticated. But she also had the chance to turn away from all that and understand what it was truly like to live without rules and disregard the laws of the land. Once she stepped into that world she knew there was little chance of returning to the one she now knows.
The desire to find her father overwhelmed any other wish she had. She would gladly give away polite society to sit down and talk with him. She smiled to herself. She could hardly believe she even had the opportunity. It was only hours ago that she had truly lost all hope of knowing her father.
She arrived at her house, hardly noticing how far she had walked. Her musings had occupied her mind. Cringing inwardly she knew that Clara would have her head the minute she stepped inside the door. She had been gone for far too long. She'd be lucky if Clara didn't skin her alive. Steeling herself, she opened the back door and quietly walked inside.
Annabelle was greeted with the sight of Norrington and Clara standing in the kitchen. Norrington looked livid while Clara shot her a most disapproving glare. She could feel her stomach tie itself into knots knowing she had no hope of escaping the verbal assault she was sure to suffer.
"I see you've finally decided to grace us with your presence." Norrington spat, clenching his hands behind his back. Annabelle flinched at the harshness of his tone.
"My apologies, sir, I had no intention of being away for so long." She replied meekly, looking down at her feet.
"Just where exactly did you disappear to, Annabelle?" He demanded, moving to stand directly in front of her. She fought not to cower under his angry stare.
"I-I went for a walk." She replied, trying not to sound a weak as she did. She could hear the disbelieving noise he released from his throat.
"You went for a walk? Do you normally take walks for two hours and without completing your daily work? Or have you decided to spite me because of our talk last night?" He demanded hotly.
Annabelle jerked up to look him in the eye. "No! I would never-!" She stopped as he raised his hand to interrupt her.
She could see him fighting to control his temper. He was not so much angry at her for shirking her duties as he was worried about her wellbeing. When he last saw her she was in a terrible state and certainly in no way fit to go off on her own. He didn't want her to do anything that would cause her injury inadvertently.
"I know that you are still upset, Annabelle, but this is no way to behave! I would have expected more from you. I return from the docks so that I may speak with you only to find that you have run off without so much as a warning! You will do well to remember others in your actions!" His reprimand was sharp and Annabelle felt stung. She lowered her face to the ground.
"Yes, sir."
He sighed. He never liked to discipline her but it had to be done. He wanted to quash any sort of rebelliousness she may have felt as a result of the previous night.
"Because of this I'm afraid that you will not be allowed to leave unless I have granted you permission to do so until you have gotten control of yourself. You are only allowed into the market if you are accompanied by Clara and only for household necessities. Is this clear, Annabelle?"
"Yes, sir." Annabelle replied, her voice wavering. Norrington winced inwardly as she shied away from him. He felt that he was pushing her away but if he ignored this excursion then she would no doubt try it again.
"Very well then. I'm sure Clara has work for you to do." He spun on his heel and walked out of the kitchen without another word.
Annabelle was shaking, partially from anger and partially from feeling hurt. She didn't want to be at odds with Norrington but she had no choice. She only hoped that what she was preparing to do would not damage their relationship more than necessary. She turned and looked at Clara who scowled back at her.
"You'll find no pity from me, young miss! You're lucky that I kept my mouth shut when he asked if I knew where you were." Clara hissed.
Annabelle frowned. She was sure she had been careful when she left.
"Don't look so surprised! I saw you speaking to that blacksmith earlier today! I had half a mind to drag you straight home myself and let you know exactly what I thought of this little infatuation you have!" Clara's face was simply furious.
Annabelle looked at her quizzically. Infatuation? She thinks that I have an infatuation with Will? If Annabelle weren't so upset she would have laughed at the thought. Sure, Will Turner was handsome for his age. But to think there was room for anyone in his heart other his wife was ludicrous. She respected him too much to ever think of such a notion.
Annabelle opened her mouth to refute Clara's words before she stopped herself. It couldn't hurt to let Clara believe that she did have feelings for Will. It was far better in any case than telling her the true reason she visited the smithy. Or denying having anything to do with him since she had been seen.
"I was foolish. I apologize Clara." She whispered, wishing she didn't have to lie to the woman who cared for her so much.
Clara's aged face softened slightly. She threw her hands up in exasperation.
"I would have never expected such trouble from you of all people but I suppose it had to happen sooner or later. I had only hoped it would be someone of eligibility! Well, it's of no concern. You will forget about him, do you hear me? I will now allow you to sully your reputation by running after a married man!"
Annabelle nodded. Clara shook her head.
"Good. Now come on, you have many chores to make up for. You skipping out on your chores don't mean they go away by the time you return."
Annabelle nodded, not quite trusting herself to speak. Clara took her silence to mean she longed for Will Turner. Walking over to her, she drew the younger girl's hands into her own.
"There are plenty others, my dear, that would be happy to have you. You must forget about him." Clara chided gently.
Annabelle fought the urge to laugh. She schooled her features as best she could before nodding gravely. If there was something she knew she'd miss by leaving, it would be Clara.
"You picked the wrong time to leave, miss. The mistress has us all running around like mad trying to prepare for her eldest. He's returning home soon to celebrate his birthday and we have much work to do." Clara said as she ushered Annabelle about.
"Master James is returning to Port Royle?" Annabelle asked.
"In two days time, I believe." Clara replied.
Annabelle liked Norrington's eldest child, James Norrington II. He was always kind to her when she arrived at the house. He was kind to everyone under his father's employment. Though his mother disapproved of him socializing with any of the serving staff and made sure he refrained from doing it.
He was his father's pride. He'd taken to joining the royal navy and had even become a captain, spending most of his time with his own ship patrolling the eastern shores. This was not to say that Norrington didn't love his youngest son just as much but Eric preferred literature and writing to battling pirates.
Annabelle hoped that the return of his son would brighten Norrington's black mood, even though she was still angry with him. His eldest son brought a smile to his face every time he returned home. He was a bit of a jokester though only in a tasteful manner. They would usually spend time after dinner, just the two of them, in his study playing chess while his youngest son and his wife went off to the library. Reading was their shared passion.
She only hoped that her disappearance wouldn't hinder his good mood. Inside she knew it would. Pushing those thoughts away, she went about her work.
The hours seemed to pass slower than Annabelle would have liked. But it gave her time to formulate a plan of escape. She already knew she would have to sneak out of the house but how to do it without alerting anyone else was the problem.
The easiest way would be to slip out her window because going out the back door meant she'd have to pass the other rooms along the way and the risk of waking someone was greater. She just hoped she could hop out of a window without snagging her dress along the way.
When she finally finished her work, she ate her dinner quickly then was dismissed to her chambers. She removed her shoes and flopped, face down on her bed. She had worked harder than normal and wanted nothing more than to sleep. Despite her body's weariness her mind was alert, reminding her that she had something to do before she could even think of resting. She had to meet Will Turner once the clock struck midnight which she was sure would be soon.
Rolling onto her back she stared up at the ceiling, thinking of her mother. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what happened after they left Spain. It was hard knowing that her mother was dead but never truly knowing the truth of it. She wasn't sure she even wanted to know. She didn't know if she was strong enough to handle it. Her mother was a pirate after all...that could very well mean that Norrington sent her to the gallows with every other pirate he came in contact with. But that thought made her physically sick. She didn't want to think that the man she had come to love and respect almost like a father sent her mother to her grave.
Yet, even though she pushed that thought away it still plagued her from the back of her mind.
Pushing herself off her bed she began to pack her things. There wasn't much that she packed; just a few necessities. The only thing of real value to her was a small shell necklace she'd had since she came to Port Royale. Her mother had given it too her. She picked it up from her dresser, fingering the smooth shell. She slipped it around her neck before taking one last look about the room.
She felt something tug at her heart as she looked around. She may very well never see this place again. That thought made her sad. Somewhere in the house the clock chimed as midnight struck. It was safe for her to leave. She blew out the candle and picked up her shoes with her free hand. She began to quietly make her way to the window.
She prayed silently that Clara would not pick this night to check on her. However, she knew that when Annabelle was very upset that Clara would sometimes look in on her. Placing her things on the bench she walked over to the bed and used some pillows to make it appear as if she were sleeping, just in case. Then, satisfied with her work she turned and slipped out of the window.
Slipping her shoes on, she quickly made way to the smithy. The dregs of society were now roaming the streets. She was careful to avoid walking in dark shadows or running into any marines that patrolled the streets. She arrived at the smithy and knocked lightly on the door.
Will greeted with a smile her then ushered her inside.
"I'm glad to see you made it safely. In hindsight I realized how unsafe it is for a woman to walk the streets at night." He said looking her over.
"I had no trouble." He nodded before leading her to a back room that held a small cot and a table. He had laid out some of his eldest sons clothes for her.
"These are my son, Billy's clothes. He's a bit larger than you but they should fit you fine and hide your figure." He explained. "I'll be outside when you finish."
Annabelle nodded and he stepped outside. She took a moment to look at the clothes. It was a simple pair of breeches with stockings, a peasant blouse, a worn leather belt, and a slightly tattered coat. A small hat lay above it all and a pair of shoes lay at the foot of the small cot. She quickly shed her clothes and changed into the new ones. It felt strangely good to stand in a pair of breeches and not feel the weight of a dress on her body. The shoes were large on her feet but aside from that the clothes fit her fairly well. She felt strangely nude without so many layers.
She took down her hair from the bonnet she wore. A boy would certainly not have hair as long as she did. Grabbing the hat she did her best to tuck it all underneath. When she was finished she went back outside to meet Will.
He chuckled at the sight of her. "You look like a smaller version of your mother dressed like that."
Annabelle smiled, happy in any way to resemble her mother.
"Just remember not to look anyone too hard in the eye. You still have the face of a young woman. I have to warn you, this man's tavern is a haven for many of the folk Norrington would rather not have you associate with. These are men spend their nights drinking rum and causing brawls in the streets. You'll have to be careful and stick close to me." He explained patiently.
"I understand. I won't cause you any trouble, Will." Annabelle assured him.
"Are you ready then?" He asked. She nodded, clutching her bag in her hand. He walked over to the table and picked up with looked like a sword wrapped up in paper. He handed it to her.
"It's Jack's sword. You can give it to him when you run across him." He spoke, watching her slowly take the sword from his hands.
She smiled, grateful for his words. She knew he said "when" to keep her spirits high. She also knew that there was very little chance of finding her father on the vast sea. But she still had hope.
The two of them stepped out of the smithy and made way for the tavern.