Author's Note: Hello and welcome to chapter two. I had some extra time this week so I was able to get this chapter done. I'd like to thank those that have reviewed, Mystress Daedra, Charlotte Norrington and Madam Librarian. I'd also like to thank my new beta Mystress Daedra for her help with this chapter. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean or its characters.
Chapter Two A Gale
Dinner was a quiet affair. The children sat easily across from their parents and kept to their manners. Little James, however, never failed to mention Maeve's escapade earlier that day. It clearly had impressed him greatly. Norrington began to wonder if he didn't have a little of his mother in him after all.
Nelly sat silent with a wistful smile lying on her pink lips. She swung her legs about and gazed out the window at the gathering twilight. The air cooled a bit as the sun finally disappeared below the western horizon. The servants hurried in to light the candles. Emer, as usual, was silent. Her face looked serene and almost without a care. She held her fork daintily between her long, bony fingers and listened intently to Norrington's talk of the day. Rarely, did she add a word to it herself.
"Lieutenant Groves received a letter from his brother in England," Norrington said lightly. Sometimes he got tired of hearing only his voice at the table. "The lad is interested in a career with the Navy." He paused, but Emer said nothing. She continued to watch him, the slight flicker behind her eyes showing what she thought of the matter.
Norrington cleared his throat and shifted. He would soon run out of things to talk about and like every dinner they had shared with each other since their wedding day, it would likely be finished in silence.
"What's hunting?" Little James asked solemnly. The subject had lodged itself in his mind since he heard his mother mention it earlier.
"Well…" Norrington began, but Emer's firm voice rode over his.
"When horses and hounds chase after a fox or hare or some other type of game."
Nelly, now interested by the conversation, tore her eyes away from the beautiful twilight that shimmered just out the window. The candles in the dining room seemed to glow brighter as the sky darkened to ebony.
"What do they do if the horses and hounds catch the fox?" Nelly asked. Norrington cringed. This was the one part of fatherhood he detested, answering all the difficult questions his children tended to pose.
"They will kill the animal," Emer said. Norrington suppressed a groan and glanced at his wife who sat comfortably beside him. Nelly paled, and Little James stared at his mother, astonished. Another moment of uneasiness passed. Norrington let his fork roll over the cooked carrots on his plate. Why did she have to…?
Emer had a strange way about the children. She remained fiercely honest with them at all times. He knew she was unique in this way. Norrington had seen the way Elizabeth Turner nurtured her own young son, quite different from his wife's ways.
Little James started to cry. Nelly said nothing but kept her bright eyes fixed on the linen tablecloth. Without a word Emer rose, walked around the table and reached for Little James. For a moment she cradled the child and then left the room to carry him up to bed. Nelly looked at her father tensely.
"Papa, may I?"
"Yes, you may Nelly." Now the girl seemed happy that she wouldn't have to finish her dinner and skipped out of the room and up the stairs. She truly was her mother's child.
Norrington found that he too had little appetite and decided to retire to the parlor. A fire glowed dimly in the hearth, used more for light than heat. He threw open the windows facing the bay and let the mild ocean breeze stroke his cheeks. It bothered him greatly that he thought about Elizabeth more than a married man should think about a married woman. Perhaps if his own marriage had not been, as Lieutenant Gillette had put it on his wedding day, the product of a broken heart, things would be better. Of course, that was not the only reason he married his wife, though still Gillette's words haunted him.
He remembered that day in Port Royal seven years ago. The wind blew fiercely through the bay and the ships bounced along the waves. Never before had the sky been a more pleasant blue. The ship carrying her and her father came in just before noon. The old man had been affected by the chilly breezes of his homeland in Ireland. A doctor suggested that his family retreat to the Caribbean for some time. As was proper, Norrington soon made the acquaintance of the wealthy gentleman and his quiet daughter. He couldn't recall how a courtship was established, but it seemed a matter of days after their meeting before all of Port Royal knew about it. And when Emer's mother joined her family three months later in the Caribbean, Norrington proposed marriage.
Emer had not been a beauty of a woman, her face too bony and skin too pale. But Norrington cared for her quiet mannerisms and firm resolve. Just a short month after Elizabeth Swann's wedding, the couple had their own.
"The children of Lir had been turned into swans by their jealous stepmother," He was brought out of his thoughts as Emer's voice trickled down from upstairs, her words weaving a familiar bedtime story. "So aggrieved was their father that he turned his wife into a demon." Norrington remembered when her parents returned to Ireland. He had thought it would have bothered her more, but to this day she never mentioned it.
The sound of Emer's voice died. Footsteps echoed in the corridor. The Commodore turned away from the window just as his wife walked into the parlor. The chalky blue paint on the walls seemed to make her skin not look so dreadfully white.
"Bit fussy tonight," she remarked and moved towards her favorite sitting chair. Needlework lay abandoned on its left arm. "All the excitement with Maeve put James in a bad way."
"I think it was more the discussion at dinner that upset him," Norrington said, then immediately regretted his words. Emer cast him one of her stern glances. "Perhaps you could have been a bit less blunt, darling," he said softly and moved to sit opposite her in a winged chair.
"Life is too short not to be blunt with them," she replied and her fingers began to skip nimbly over her embroidery.
"They are young yet though."
"Ha! I rode the hunt when I was Nelly's age." For a brief instant she reminded him of Elizabeth with her bold words. But quickly, she returned to that demure serenity. Her eyes rested languidly beneath her brows.
Moments of silence hung in the warm air. Norrington watched the fire hissing in the hearth. It ate greedily at the log, snapping it in half after a good while. The noise startled him but Emer kept still. A gale blew up from the south and tickled the coast. Finally, a long streak of lightening touched the ocean. The black sea churned nastily and rain splattered the wind. All at once the sweet twilight disappeared and thunderous clouds racked the heavens.
"Sea's rough," she said gently. The kind smile had washed over her stern face once more. Emer never stayed mad for long.
"Yes," said Norrington a bit relieved.
"Maeve will have herself another run tomorrow. The storm excites her."
"Dear God." He rose to shut the windows as rain streamed in over the floor and then sat himself back down. "Can't you keep that mare locked up?"
Her smile widened and her fingers paused for a moment on her needlework. "Now James, I can't very well do that." Her brogue was out again, she sounded amused by the topic.
"Why not?"
"The lassie needs the use of legs. She can barely turn about in her stall and I haven't the time to ride her like I used to."
"But surely the grooms wouldn't mind giving Maeve a little exercise," Norrington said slowly. He would, however, have to double the pay he gave his grooms if he ordered them to do that.
"No, no, no," she mumbled, clucking her tongue slightly. "The horse won't listen to them. There would be more danger and injuries if I let one of them ride her."
"But she is calm about the children," he noted.
"That is because they are mine," she answered with an understanding smile. A sigh brought around her next words. "James, if you only did what you were supposed to do then we wouldn't have any difficulties."
"Difficulties?" Norrington laughed to hide his discomfort.
"Men ought to do what their wives wish," Emer said quietly and bent her eyes to the needlework once more. "If you let Maeve run about a bit then she will be tranquil."
"I fear she will trample someone in the streets," he put in. His wife suddenly laughed.
"Still upset about your arm?"
Norrington raised his head proudly; as he had the day he first caught Captain Jack Sparrow. "There was no reason for that beast to bite me."
"You were in her stall," she continued, laughing softly. Her eyes were awash with mirth.
"A well tamed horse is not so snappish."
"You were in her stall," she repeated. "Never enter a woman's domain." The clock struck ten from its place above the mantelpiece. Fire glinted in its indifferent face. Norrington stood once more and pulled the shutters carefully over the windows. The rest would be attended to by the servants.
"I daresay it's time we retire," he said, already halfway to the door. But his wife, as usual, had other plans.
"I'll join you in a minute." Her blue eyes locked on the needlework where fine flower petals were beginning to take shape. The Commodore paused uncomfortably by the door for a moment and watched her. He had been a good and faithful husband, but still he felt as though he had wronged her. Without a word he left and plodded up the stairs.
As soon as her husband was out of earshot Emer let out a shrill laugh. She admired her dear James greatly but he, like all men, happened to be a fool. Her father had always said she had the gift of perception, her mind being keen enough to pick up on all the words people didn't say. So she knew for quite some time that her husband fancied Mistress Turner. And from the word about Portal Royal, he had reason too. Her James had gone out on a limb for that girl, losing one of his most valuable ships and the lives of many of his men just to save her life. Of course he would still care for her.
The firelight had dimmed and Emer finally put aside her embroidery. Her fingers ached already from the careful work. Thunder echoed from the heavens. She rose and drew back the shutters that hid the storm from her view. Rain fell in torrents, lashing the windows. Every now and then she saw the silhouette of a palm tree being whipped about by the wind. The ocean no longer purred but roared.
Most women would fret and pine over such a problem in their marriage. Emer, though, saw it as a mere trifle to overcome. The matter was simple. Her James loved her but had never fallen in love with her. That could be remedied. The love they shared lay dormant, waiting to be revived. But how?
Lightening struck the ocean and outlined the shapes of ships struggling against the waves. Emer pressed herself against the damp window panes as inspiration flooded her. For a time her breath fogged the glass and she smiled. There was a way and it appeared as clear as the Caribbean waters on a sunny day. She just had to wait for the opportune moment….
Content in her thoughts she closed the shutters softly and hurried up the stairs. Somewhere in the back by the stables, Maeve kicked furiously at her stall.
Author's Note: Slow chapter, I know. But bear with me, Jack Sparrow makes his entrance in the next chapter and he will shake things up as always. Thanks for reading and please be sure to review. Happy Holidays!
