(third person omniscient)
And I wanna believe you,
When you tell me that it'll be ok,
Ya I try to believe you, Not today, today, today, today
Tomorrow it may change....
Norrington didn't know what to think. He sank slowly into the chair where Fiona had been sitting moments before. For lack of anything else, he took of his tri-cornered hat and began to knead it in his hands. Swallowing, he placed it on the table, putting a hand over his eyes to try and calm himself. When this yielded no calming of his agitated nerves and reeling mind, he began to rub his temples. He couldn't breathe, and loosened his collar, a small part of his brain praying no officer, soldier, or seaman would walk in.
Captain Lawrence Norrington had just experienced his first real kiss, unbeknownst to any one but himself. Granted, he had been kissed as a child by his mother, but had been brought up a gentleman by his father in a society where to kiss the back of a lady's hand was enough and where any show of emotion between a man and woman in public was frowned deeply upon. He had, thusly, blocked off any emotion from his heart except the hatred and anger towards pirates and, more recently, that fingerling of love he thought he felt for Elizabeth Swann. But now his heart, which he had iced over for so many years in exchange for advancing his naval career to great heights, was having a change of pace that he was having trouble dealing with.
The distraught captain put his forehead into the palms of his hands. The table still showed handprints where he had been gripping it. He was unaccustomed to this type of boldness in a woman, and yet he found himself thinking it over, playing over the events of the past month in his head, beginning with Fiona's mysterious arrival. The logical portion of his mind kicked in, and he regained some sort of impassivity. But his logical, reasoning mind was now at war with his heart, something he had never dealt with before, since his heart and mind agreed on most matters.
Perhaps Fiona was right. Maybe he did need to learn to feel a bit more and be less strict and impassive. But that is who and what I am, he told himself. It is my nature to be indifferent. I cannot allow emotion to overtake my mind and heart or else my career will be ruined. What about Elizabeth? What about her? You do love her, don't you, Lawrence? You want to ask the Governor for permission to request her hand in marriage.
Norrington's heart tripped up, reining in. What about Elizabeth? he thought.
Think, Lawrence, think very hard. Aren't you contradicting yourself just a little bit? Admit it – Fiona is a much better woman that Elizabeth could ever be.
Is she?
Fine, let's be logical and weigh the pros and cons. Elizabeth: wild, prone to be favorable towards pirates in nature and words, is pretty, is a woman, of marrying age, and doesn't bloody well love you! And let's keep in mind that she might pass on her love of pirates to her children!
How do you know she doesn't love me?
Lawrence, for pity's sake, don't you remember Will Turner? And she hasn't exactly been warm to you, has she? Now let me finish. From the little time you've known Fiona, you've learned that she is: pretty, smart, prone to a temper but with good reason and is able to apologize afterwards, of marrying age, of a sweet disposition, and she can sing. Please tell me you've noticed that she's slightly more cultured than your dear Miss Swann.
Not good enough. I've known Miss Swann longer, I need more time to develop an opinion of Miss Fitzgerald.
Norrington was exasperated, mostly with himself. He had let this go too far. Grinding his teeth with a fierce determination to put this incident behind him, he jammed his hat on his head and marched out with his normal, impassive mask and made a valiant attempt to resume what he considered to be his normal life.
Disclaimer: lyrics by Avril Lavigne, "Tomorrow"
And I wanna believe you,
When you tell me that it'll be ok,
Ya I try to believe you, Not today, today, today, today
Tomorrow it may change....
Norrington didn't know what to think. He sank slowly into the chair where Fiona had been sitting moments before. For lack of anything else, he took of his tri-cornered hat and began to knead it in his hands. Swallowing, he placed it on the table, putting a hand over his eyes to try and calm himself. When this yielded no calming of his agitated nerves and reeling mind, he began to rub his temples. He couldn't breathe, and loosened his collar, a small part of his brain praying no officer, soldier, or seaman would walk in.
Captain Lawrence Norrington had just experienced his first real kiss, unbeknownst to any one but himself. Granted, he had been kissed as a child by his mother, but had been brought up a gentleman by his father in a society where to kiss the back of a lady's hand was enough and where any show of emotion between a man and woman in public was frowned deeply upon. He had, thusly, blocked off any emotion from his heart except the hatred and anger towards pirates and, more recently, that fingerling of love he thought he felt for Elizabeth Swann. But now his heart, which he had iced over for so many years in exchange for advancing his naval career to great heights, was having a change of pace that he was having trouble dealing with.
The distraught captain put his forehead into the palms of his hands. The table still showed handprints where he had been gripping it. He was unaccustomed to this type of boldness in a woman, and yet he found himself thinking it over, playing over the events of the past month in his head, beginning with Fiona's mysterious arrival. The logical portion of his mind kicked in, and he regained some sort of impassivity. But his logical, reasoning mind was now at war with his heart, something he had never dealt with before, since his heart and mind agreed on most matters.
Perhaps Fiona was right. Maybe he did need to learn to feel a bit more and be less strict and impassive. But that is who and what I am, he told himself. It is my nature to be indifferent. I cannot allow emotion to overtake my mind and heart or else my career will be ruined. What about Elizabeth? What about her? You do love her, don't you, Lawrence? You want to ask the Governor for permission to request her hand in marriage.
Norrington's heart tripped up, reining in. What about Elizabeth? he thought.
Think, Lawrence, think very hard. Aren't you contradicting yourself just a little bit? Admit it – Fiona is a much better woman that Elizabeth could ever be.
Is she?
Fine, let's be logical and weigh the pros and cons. Elizabeth: wild, prone to be favorable towards pirates in nature and words, is pretty, is a woman, of marrying age, and doesn't bloody well love you! And let's keep in mind that she might pass on her love of pirates to her children!
How do you know she doesn't love me?
Lawrence, for pity's sake, don't you remember Will Turner? And she hasn't exactly been warm to you, has she? Now let me finish. From the little time you've known Fiona, you've learned that she is: pretty, smart, prone to a temper but with good reason and is able to apologize afterwards, of marrying age, of a sweet disposition, and she can sing. Please tell me you've noticed that she's slightly more cultured than your dear Miss Swann.
Not good enough. I've known Miss Swann longer, I need more time to develop an opinion of Miss Fitzgerald.
Norrington was exasperated, mostly with himself. He had let this go too far. Grinding his teeth with a fierce determination to put this incident behind him, he jammed his hat on his head and marched out with his normal, impassive mask and made a valiant attempt to resume what he considered to be his normal life.
Disclaimer: lyrics by Avril Lavigne, "Tomorrow"