The Oldest Story in the Book
Chapter 11
Disclaimer: Not mine, thanks ever so much for reminding me. I'm going to go cry now. Except for Emmie and Pearl. And I still maintain that I've turned Norrington into a whole new being I should copyright.
Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long. Please don't lynch me. It you do you'll never find out how this ends. So ha. My muses have been fighting me. Or maybe it's the sleep deprivation. Either this chapter was a disaster and needed major help. Thanks Pendragginink!
~Four years later~
"Come on you slow poke! I'm wearing bloody skirts and I'm beating you!"
Edward Norrington smiled at the sound of his daughter's voice down below. Turning away from his cluttered desk he leaned out the window to see the girl, skirts tugged at by the ocean breeze, bright red braid bouncing over one shoulder, running ahead of his son. The girl was going to be a beauty, just like her mother. There was no doubt about that.
She had inherited his height, something he was glad for as Pearl as well as Jack and Diamond were rather short. She had the same slim, wiry frame. He knew the training Will was giving her in secret with a sword helped that fact. She was well-muscled.
She had his slimmer nose and wide honest eyes, although they would sparkle with a light every bit as wicked as her mother or grandfather when she was up to something. She naturally had a light complection accented by freckles, but her tenancy to run around outside left her more tanned than was strictly proper. It wasn't her fault, he reflected. She was forever fighting the Caribbean winds to keep her hat firmly on her head, but that offered no protection from the light bouncing off of the sea. Her hair, having proven itself nearly unmanageable, was constantly secured in a long braid down her back.
Her brother, although she had no idea that there was a shared relation between them, ran to catch up. He too was a perfect combination of his parents. He was nearly a mirror image of his father with slightly finer features. He carried his mother's eyes, perhaps a few shades darker, and his father's dark brown hair. The Commodore had always found it odd that two children with the same father and mothers who looked so alike could look so completely different. "No fair!" Ethan called in a very pouty voice. "Your legs are longer."
"And I've had two bloody years more experience than you at running," Emmie responded.
"Almost three!" he corrected.
"Two and a half," Norrington leaned out the window and called down. "And I would thank you to watch your mouth around my son, Emily."
"Sorry Uncle Edward," she called up to him. "May we come up? Aunt Maggie and Mother said not to bother you if you were busy."
"It's nothing that can't wait. Please come up," he called.
He grinned as he heard the pounding of footsteps on the stairs, permeated by the door slamming open and Ethan stumbling into his father's office to hop in circles on one foot with his arms raised in victory as he chanted, "I win, I win."
"Yes, yes. You win," Emmie agreed grudgingly, pausing to ruffle his hair as he cried out in indignation before she took a seat before Norrington's desk.
"So what exactly are Elizabeth and Maggie up to that they want you out from underfoot?" Norrington asked.
Emmie shrugged, reclining in the chair in a distinctly unladylike way. For a moment he had a vision of her mother, hooking a leg over the arm of the chair to grin up at him. He shook his head, pushing the memory away. "Sewing, I think."
"You could help with that, I would imagine," he pointed out.
"I helped sew shirts for the poor last week," Emmie answered.
"I'm a bit surprised you aren't at the smithy," he remarked.
Whenever she had a spare moment Emmie seemed to spend it flitting about Will. While she obviously couldn't do any work with the blacksmith it seemed to be enough just for her to watch. And Ethan had taken a keen interest in the process as well, especially when he realized what a fine swordsman Will was. Norrington had worried just a bit that he would end up apprenticing the son out to the man, but his constant interest in the sea reassured him somewhat. He imagined in the end it came down to the flying sparks being far more interesting than the Commodore's rather droll office that occupied the majority of his time.
"Papa's busy," Emmie answered. "He received a large order, and Mother said he could work better without our distracting him."
"I see," he answered. "Could one of you do me a favor?"
His son, who was carefully studying a framed navigational map on the far wall, wrinkled his nose. With a heavy sigh Emmie rolled her eyes and leaned forward to hold her hand out to Norrington. "Take these down to Gillette. I know."
"Thank you," he said, handing her three large scrolls.
She disappeared for only moments before hurrying steps could be heard on the stairs.
Gillette burst through the door, Emmie behind him bouncing lightly with excitement, a light in her eyes. "Sir," Gillette gasped. "The Montage just pulled into port."
Norrington regarded him with steady eyes. "It's about time. We've been expecting them for nearly a week."
"They were held up, Sir. Attacked by pirates."
Norrington stood quickly, grabbing his coat. "Who?"
Gillette's eyes cut toward the girl behind him. Although he had never been expressly told, Gillette was one of the few people that knew exactly who Emmie's mother was. "The Black Pearl."
Emmie gasped. While completely unaware of exactly who her parents were she had come close to worshiping Pearl Sparrow simply because she was a female pirate. It was a sore spot the Turners had never quite known how to handle. They had told her stories of their adventure with Jack and having met Pearl--there was no use hiding it as the entire town had heard the story--but had often downplayed their relationship with the pirate.
Norrington found ice lodged in his gut. He hadn't seen Pearl in four years, only once since she had left her daughter with the Turners. He remembered with a flutter of his heart that it was part of her plan to climatize her daughter to the pirate life at the age of ten. And here was Emmie, one month from her tenth birthday.
"Where are they?" he asked, approaching Gillette.
"The west dock," he answered, following the Commodore.
"May we come, Uncle Edward?" Emmie begged, her eyes--so like his--suddenly large and liquid. "Please?"
He sighed heavily. He could deny this girl nothing. "I don't suppose there's any harm."
His children cheered, following him through the crowded streets.
They reached the Montage fairly quickly. Emmie didn't hesitate for a moment before following Norrington quickly and easily up the gangplank, shifting like an experienced sailor with the rocking of the waves.
Norrington approached the Captain, returning his very proper bow. "I'm very sorry to hear about your misfortune, Captain," he commented.
"Not as sorry as the men looking to collect their debts from me will be," the man answered frankly.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Norrington suggested.
The Captain shrugged. "Pretty much what you'd expect. We spotted the ship, the Black Pearl, sneaking up behind us. We tried to outrun them but we're a bigger ship, and we were loaded down with cargo."
"Did you resist?" Emmie asked eagerly from behind the Commodore. "Where there any casualties or did you surrender? What's Captain Sparrow look like? And his daughter?"
The Captain eyed the girl as Norrington rolled his eyes and heaved a deep sigh. "Emmie, I'm not certain this is an appropriate conversation for a girl of your age and rearing."
"I don't mind," she assured him.
"Yes, but I believe your parents would." Well, he was half right. He certainly did, although Pearl would have no objections. "Why don't you go help the sailors catch up on the local gossip?"
Emmie pouted briefly, then turned to his son. "Surely they can tell us, if your father's going to be stubborn," she pointed out, hurrying down onto the deck with her brother in tow.
Norrington sighed heavily but let them both go. Turning back to the Captain he motioned for the man to continue. He watched his daughter move to chat with one of the sailors, grabbing a rope and pulling along with him. The sailor chuckled, allowing her to tug while keeping the bulk of the weight to himself. As the Captain explained his surrender and described the pirates rifling through his things with all due outrage Norrington caught sight of something completely different that chilled him even more fully to his bones. Will Turner walked along the dock, calling to the sailors he knew. They locked eyes for a moment, Will nodding a greeting. Norrington returned the nod.
Will climbed up onto the deck. The men moved to stop him but a quick wave of the Commodore's hand allowed him onto the ship. "I think you can handle this, Gillette," Norrington remarked, moving to meet the man. "Do I even have to ask how you knew where to find me?" he greeted Will.
"No, Pearl told me where you'd be," Will said.
"So it's time."
"She thinks so." Will turned to watch the girl tug at the heavy rope. "I dare say Emmie would agree."
"Are you going to go sailing with them?" Norrington asked.
Will nodded. "We haven't been on the sea for a while, and it will be good for Emmie to have us around for a little bit."
"You're itching to go, aren't you?"
Will smiled. "It's in my blood. I'm not as bad as Elizabeth though. Although neither of us are overanxious to say goodbye to Emmie."
"It's only fair, I suppose, after having her just down the street for seven years. Still, part of me hopes she won't take to that life."
"Believe me, I know what you mean," Will remarked. "She will, though."
Norrington nodded his agreement. "She all ready has, in many ways."
"Are you going to tell her? Who her father is, I mean? Pearl said she was leaving it up to you."
Norrington blinked. "I don't know. I hadn't thought about it, I suppose."
"Edward, you've had seven years to think about this. It would be a good thing to have your mind made up."
"I know," he sighed. "She's just never taken to me, really, at least not the way she's taken to you. She worships her mother already. What if she was disappointed to find out I was her father?"
Will laughed. "That would never happen. She'll probably just be happy to know who her father is."
Norrington opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a cry of, "Papa!" and a blur of silk and long red hair streaking up to throw herself into Will's arms. "What are you doing here?" she asked after hugging her father tightly.
Will smiled down at her. The two of them were perfect for one another. Will doted on the girl to no end, giving her everything he could, and the girl nearly worshiped him in return. It was the sort of relationship Norrington had always wished to have with her, although he couldn't risk showing that much emotion toward a girl who was supposed to be nothing more than a friend's daughter. And even if he could, being the straight-laced Commodore that he was, even he had to admit that he would still have been a bit cold toward her.
"Your mother sent me to come and get you. Your Aunt Bethany is in town."
"Who?" Emmie asked.
Norrington nearly winced. Thank goodness Pearl herself wasn't there. It was one thing not to be remembered by your daughter, but not having even your more often present alter ego remembered would have hurt. "You remember her. She visited when you were five. She was the one that brought you here to us."
"Oh, right," she said, nodding at last. "But must I go right now? I was having a lovely chat with Marcus."
"She's anxious to see you. Wait, who's Marcus?"
"The sailor," she answered with a wave to the man in question, who waved back.
Will rolled his eyes. "Will you come with us, Edward? I'm certain Bethany would love to say hello."
"Should you ask Aunt Maggie first?" Emmie asked, her eyes glinting mischievously. "She might object, after all the rumors I've heard about the two of you having a torrid affair."
"You shouldn't listen to gossip," he told the girl. She looked down, properly chastised but for the nasty gleam that remained in her eyes.
Norrington considered a moment before nodding. He still wasn't certain he wanted to tell Emmie exactly how they were related, but he couldn't deny being anxious to see Pearl. Even with Maggie well and healthy and Pearl's oath to leave him well alone firmly in place there was part of him that longed at least to look at her. "Ethan," he called over his shoulder. The boy hurried over. "Go home and inform your mother that I will see her for supper. I'm going to escort Mr. Turner and Emmie home." He considered for a moment, then added, "Tell her Bethany Maltrey is in town for a short time."
"Yes Father. Goodbye Mr Turner, Miss Nevern," Ethan said properly.
"Bye Squirt," Emmie told him. He stuck his tongue out at her, and she returned the sentiment as she moved down the street with the two men.
To Norrington the trek to the Turner household seemed to move all too fast, his head spinning the entire way. Emmie chattered as always, skipping along in a way that was very reminiscent of her mother. Will answered her questions or mearly replied to her chatter as he went, as quick to chuckle over the girl as anything else.
He entered the house without knocking, leading them to the parlor as Emmie removed her overcoat and hat and handed it to the servant.
Will entered the foyer first, grinning as he waited for the other two to enter. Norrington hung back, allowing his daughter to go first. Perhaps if she caught the pirate's attention first Pearl would spare him long enough to let him gather his wits.
Emmie froze as soon as they entered, and it wasn't hard to see why. Rather than disguising herself in silk skirts and brown wig to portray Bethany Pearl sat before them in full pirate regalia, looking completely out of place.
She sat on the pink silk love seat, sipping very properly from a white china cup and visiting with Elizabeth. When they entered she carefully set the cup down and stood. A knowing smile flittered across her lips as she allowed her daughter to study her. She wore soft brown breeches tucked into high black boots. A thick black belt with a large silver belt buckle circled her waist, a pistol butt barely visible peaking from beneath her long black coat. A worn baldric lay slung over her shoulder, holding her sword on her back, the wide strap across her chest, pressing down her flimsy white shirt. Her hair was still cut short, deep turquoise and onyx beads swinging against her cheek and a silver dangling devise only slightly reminiscent of her father's hung from a small braid. Her face was tanned, weather-roughened, and a bit more aged than he remembered, but still breathtakingly beautiful.
"By Billy's bones, she's gotten big. What on earth have you been feeding her?" Pearl asked as she stood. One hip inched up to take a cocky stance that was pure backbone as she studied Emmie right back.
"Aunt Bethany?" Emmie asked in obvious confusion.
"Yes," Pearl answered. "And at the same time an overwhelming no." She walked over to link elbows with the girl and lead her back to the sofa. "It's a bit of a long story. Why don't you have a seat? You as well, Edward," she added with a nod.
"You know him?" Emmie asked as Pearl sat her on the couch between herself and Elizabeth. Will perched on the arm of the couch next to his wife, and Norrington claimed a seat in a nearby chair. When Pearl nodded Emmie shrugged. "I suppose that means he won't arrest you."
"Why should he arrest me?" Pearl asked, brushing the hair from her daughter's face.
"Well, you're obviously a pirate," Emmie said, tone of voice suggesting she had just asked something as obvious as what color the sea was. "Who are you exactly?"
Pearl smiled, glancing over at Elizabeth. "She's a quick one."
"You knew that all ready," Elizabeth told her.
"My given name is Pearl. Pearl Sparrow, if you will," she informed the girl.
Emmie's eyes grew large. "You are? The infamous Pearl Sparrow? Scourge of the high seas?"
"I believe that title belongs to my father, but you're close," she said with a chuckle.
"Wow. I don't believe this. I have a billion questions for you. How did you sack Port Kilington? Is it true that you grew up in Tortuga? Is there a Tortuga? What's it like? And what's Captain Sparrow like? Is he really mad?"
Pearl laughed, waving the girl to a pause. "Please, take a breath. I understand you have questions, dear, but you're asking the wrong ones."
Emmie stared at her for a moment, her head tilting. "Why have you come? Your father isn't in trouble, is he? Do you need Mother and Papa's help?"
Pearl laughed. "No. Jack is fine, something I'm more thankful for some days than others. No, what I'm referring to involves you."
"Me?" Emmie repeated. "But I've not had anything to do with you for my whole life."
"As far as you know," Pearl put in.
Emmie studied her for another moment, before turning to the two people she had always called parents. Their smiles were half-hearted at best. Emmie straightened, sensing for the first time that something was more than not right. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."
Pearl heaved a sigh. "This is difficult for me, Emmie, and it will be a bit of a shock." Emmie fidgeted, twisting her hands together as he eyes widened, but she nodded. Pearl took one of her hands, leaning forward to stare into her eyes. "Emmie, darling, I'm your mother."
Author's Note: Wow. I'm evil. I didn't realize I was that evil. All hope of not being lynched is flying out of the window. Well, I don't have time to post the rest of it now, although it's written. So instead I'm going to force you to review. Now! I'll get it up ASAP. Which may not be terribly soon. School is kicking my butt. Like the test I'm supposed to be working on right now. So review and I'll try to get around to it. Hee.
Chapter 11
Disclaimer: Not mine, thanks ever so much for reminding me. I'm going to go cry now. Except for Emmie and Pearl. And I still maintain that I've turned Norrington into a whole new being I should copyright.
Author's Note: Sorry it's been so long. Please don't lynch me. It you do you'll never find out how this ends. So ha. My muses have been fighting me. Or maybe it's the sleep deprivation. Either this chapter was a disaster and needed major help. Thanks Pendragginink!
~Four years later~
"Come on you slow poke! I'm wearing bloody skirts and I'm beating you!"
Edward Norrington smiled at the sound of his daughter's voice down below. Turning away from his cluttered desk he leaned out the window to see the girl, skirts tugged at by the ocean breeze, bright red braid bouncing over one shoulder, running ahead of his son. The girl was going to be a beauty, just like her mother. There was no doubt about that.
She had inherited his height, something he was glad for as Pearl as well as Jack and Diamond were rather short. She had the same slim, wiry frame. He knew the training Will was giving her in secret with a sword helped that fact. She was well-muscled.
She had his slimmer nose and wide honest eyes, although they would sparkle with a light every bit as wicked as her mother or grandfather when she was up to something. She naturally had a light complection accented by freckles, but her tenancy to run around outside left her more tanned than was strictly proper. It wasn't her fault, he reflected. She was forever fighting the Caribbean winds to keep her hat firmly on her head, but that offered no protection from the light bouncing off of the sea. Her hair, having proven itself nearly unmanageable, was constantly secured in a long braid down her back.
Her brother, although she had no idea that there was a shared relation between them, ran to catch up. He too was a perfect combination of his parents. He was nearly a mirror image of his father with slightly finer features. He carried his mother's eyes, perhaps a few shades darker, and his father's dark brown hair. The Commodore had always found it odd that two children with the same father and mothers who looked so alike could look so completely different. "No fair!" Ethan called in a very pouty voice. "Your legs are longer."
"And I've had two bloody years more experience than you at running," Emmie responded.
"Almost three!" he corrected.
"Two and a half," Norrington leaned out the window and called down. "And I would thank you to watch your mouth around my son, Emily."
"Sorry Uncle Edward," she called up to him. "May we come up? Aunt Maggie and Mother said not to bother you if you were busy."
"It's nothing that can't wait. Please come up," he called.
He grinned as he heard the pounding of footsteps on the stairs, permeated by the door slamming open and Ethan stumbling into his father's office to hop in circles on one foot with his arms raised in victory as he chanted, "I win, I win."
"Yes, yes. You win," Emmie agreed grudgingly, pausing to ruffle his hair as he cried out in indignation before she took a seat before Norrington's desk.
"So what exactly are Elizabeth and Maggie up to that they want you out from underfoot?" Norrington asked.
Emmie shrugged, reclining in the chair in a distinctly unladylike way. For a moment he had a vision of her mother, hooking a leg over the arm of the chair to grin up at him. He shook his head, pushing the memory away. "Sewing, I think."
"You could help with that, I would imagine," he pointed out.
"I helped sew shirts for the poor last week," Emmie answered.
"I'm a bit surprised you aren't at the smithy," he remarked.
Whenever she had a spare moment Emmie seemed to spend it flitting about Will. While she obviously couldn't do any work with the blacksmith it seemed to be enough just for her to watch. And Ethan had taken a keen interest in the process as well, especially when he realized what a fine swordsman Will was. Norrington had worried just a bit that he would end up apprenticing the son out to the man, but his constant interest in the sea reassured him somewhat. He imagined in the end it came down to the flying sparks being far more interesting than the Commodore's rather droll office that occupied the majority of his time.
"Papa's busy," Emmie answered. "He received a large order, and Mother said he could work better without our distracting him."
"I see," he answered. "Could one of you do me a favor?"
His son, who was carefully studying a framed navigational map on the far wall, wrinkled his nose. With a heavy sigh Emmie rolled her eyes and leaned forward to hold her hand out to Norrington. "Take these down to Gillette. I know."
"Thank you," he said, handing her three large scrolls.
She disappeared for only moments before hurrying steps could be heard on the stairs.
Gillette burst through the door, Emmie behind him bouncing lightly with excitement, a light in her eyes. "Sir," Gillette gasped. "The Montage just pulled into port."
Norrington regarded him with steady eyes. "It's about time. We've been expecting them for nearly a week."
"They were held up, Sir. Attacked by pirates."
Norrington stood quickly, grabbing his coat. "Who?"
Gillette's eyes cut toward the girl behind him. Although he had never been expressly told, Gillette was one of the few people that knew exactly who Emmie's mother was. "The Black Pearl."
Emmie gasped. While completely unaware of exactly who her parents were she had come close to worshiping Pearl Sparrow simply because she was a female pirate. It was a sore spot the Turners had never quite known how to handle. They had told her stories of their adventure with Jack and having met Pearl--there was no use hiding it as the entire town had heard the story--but had often downplayed their relationship with the pirate.
Norrington found ice lodged in his gut. He hadn't seen Pearl in four years, only once since she had left her daughter with the Turners. He remembered with a flutter of his heart that it was part of her plan to climatize her daughter to the pirate life at the age of ten. And here was Emmie, one month from her tenth birthday.
"Where are they?" he asked, approaching Gillette.
"The west dock," he answered, following the Commodore.
"May we come, Uncle Edward?" Emmie begged, her eyes--so like his--suddenly large and liquid. "Please?"
He sighed heavily. He could deny this girl nothing. "I don't suppose there's any harm."
His children cheered, following him through the crowded streets.
They reached the Montage fairly quickly. Emmie didn't hesitate for a moment before following Norrington quickly and easily up the gangplank, shifting like an experienced sailor with the rocking of the waves.
Norrington approached the Captain, returning his very proper bow. "I'm very sorry to hear about your misfortune, Captain," he commented.
"Not as sorry as the men looking to collect their debts from me will be," the man answered frankly.
"Can you tell me what happened?" Norrington suggested.
The Captain shrugged. "Pretty much what you'd expect. We spotted the ship, the Black Pearl, sneaking up behind us. We tried to outrun them but we're a bigger ship, and we were loaded down with cargo."
"Did you resist?" Emmie asked eagerly from behind the Commodore. "Where there any casualties or did you surrender? What's Captain Sparrow look like? And his daughter?"
The Captain eyed the girl as Norrington rolled his eyes and heaved a deep sigh. "Emmie, I'm not certain this is an appropriate conversation for a girl of your age and rearing."
"I don't mind," she assured him.
"Yes, but I believe your parents would." Well, he was half right. He certainly did, although Pearl would have no objections. "Why don't you go help the sailors catch up on the local gossip?"
Emmie pouted briefly, then turned to his son. "Surely they can tell us, if your father's going to be stubborn," she pointed out, hurrying down onto the deck with her brother in tow.
Norrington sighed heavily but let them both go. Turning back to the Captain he motioned for the man to continue. He watched his daughter move to chat with one of the sailors, grabbing a rope and pulling along with him. The sailor chuckled, allowing her to tug while keeping the bulk of the weight to himself. As the Captain explained his surrender and described the pirates rifling through his things with all due outrage Norrington caught sight of something completely different that chilled him even more fully to his bones. Will Turner walked along the dock, calling to the sailors he knew. They locked eyes for a moment, Will nodding a greeting. Norrington returned the nod.
Will climbed up onto the deck. The men moved to stop him but a quick wave of the Commodore's hand allowed him onto the ship. "I think you can handle this, Gillette," Norrington remarked, moving to meet the man. "Do I even have to ask how you knew where to find me?" he greeted Will.
"No, Pearl told me where you'd be," Will said.
"So it's time."
"She thinks so." Will turned to watch the girl tug at the heavy rope. "I dare say Emmie would agree."
"Are you going to go sailing with them?" Norrington asked.
Will nodded. "We haven't been on the sea for a while, and it will be good for Emmie to have us around for a little bit."
"You're itching to go, aren't you?"
Will smiled. "It's in my blood. I'm not as bad as Elizabeth though. Although neither of us are overanxious to say goodbye to Emmie."
"It's only fair, I suppose, after having her just down the street for seven years. Still, part of me hopes she won't take to that life."
"Believe me, I know what you mean," Will remarked. "She will, though."
Norrington nodded his agreement. "She all ready has, in many ways."
"Are you going to tell her? Who her father is, I mean? Pearl said she was leaving it up to you."
Norrington blinked. "I don't know. I hadn't thought about it, I suppose."
"Edward, you've had seven years to think about this. It would be a good thing to have your mind made up."
"I know," he sighed. "She's just never taken to me, really, at least not the way she's taken to you. She worships her mother already. What if she was disappointed to find out I was her father?"
Will laughed. "That would never happen. She'll probably just be happy to know who her father is."
Norrington opened his mouth to answer, but was cut off by a cry of, "Papa!" and a blur of silk and long red hair streaking up to throw herself into Will's arms. "What are you doing here?" she asked after hugging her father tightly.
Will smiled down at her. The two of them were perfect for one another. Will doted on the girl to no end, giving her everything he could, and the girl nearly worshiped him in return. It was the sort of relationship Norrington had always wished to have with her, although he couldn't risk showing that much emotion toward a girl who was supposed to be nothing more than a friend's daughter. And even if he could, being the straight-laced Commodore that he was, even he had to admit that he would still have been a bit cold toward her.
"Your mother sent me to come and get you. Your Aunt Bethany is in town."
"Who?" Emmie asked.
Norrington nearly winced. Thank goodness Pearl herself wasn't there. It was one thing not to be remembered by your daughter, but not having even your more often present alter ego remembered would have hurt. "You remember her. She visited when you were five. She was the one that brought you here to us."
"Oh, right," she said, nodding at last. "But must I go right now? I was having a lovely chat with Marcus."
"She's anxious to see you. Wait, who's Marcus?"
"The sailor," she answered with a wave to the man in question, who waved back.
Will rolled his eyes. "Will you come with us, Edward? I'm certain Bethany would love to say hello."
"Should you ask Aunt Maggie first?" Emmie asked, her eyes glinting mischievously. "She might object, after all the rumors I've heard about the two of you having a torrid affair."
"You shouldn't listen to gossip," he told the girl. She looked down, properly chastised but for the nasty gleam that remained in her eyes.
Norrington considered a moment before nodding. He still wasn't certain he wanted to tell Emmie exactly how they were related, but he couldn't deny being anxious to see Pearl. Even with Maggie well and healthy and Pearl's oath to leave him well alone firmly in place there was part of him that longed at least to look at her. "Ethan," he called over his shoulder. The boy hurried over. "Go home and inform your mother that I will see her for supper. I'm going to escort Mr. Turner and Emmie home." He considered for a moment, then added, "Tell her Bethany Maltrey is in town for a short time."
"Yes Father. Goodbye Mr Turner, Miss Nevern," Ethan said properly.
"Bye Squirt," Emmie told him. He stuck his tongue out at her, and she returned the sentiment as she moved down the street with the two men.
To Norrington the trek to the Turner household seemed to move all too fast, his head spinning the entire way. Emmie chattered as always, skipping along in a way that was very reminiscent of her mother. Will answered her questions or mearly replied to her chatter as he went, as quick to chuckle over the girl as anything else.
He entered the house without knocking, leading them to the parlor as Emmie removed her overcoat and hat and handed it to the servant.
Will entered the foyer first, grinning as he waited for the other two to enter. Norrington hung back, allowing his daughter to go first. Perhaps if she caught the pirate's attention first Pearl would spare him long enough to let him gather his wits.
Emmie froze as soon as they entered, and it wasn't hard to see why. Rather than disguising herself in silk skirts and brown wig to portray Bethany Pearl sat before them in full pirate regalia, looking completely out of place.
She sat on the pink silk love seat, sipping very properly from a white china cup and visiting with Elizabeth. When they entered she carefully set the cup down and stood. A knowing smile flittered across her lips as she allowed her daughter to study her. She wore soft brown breeches tucked into high black boots. A thick black belt with a large silver belt buckle circled her waist, a pistol butt barely visible peaking from beneath her long black coat. A worn baldric lay slung over her shoulder, holding her sword on her back, the wide strap across her chest, pressing down her flimsy white shirt. Her hair was still cut short, deep turquoise and onyx beads swinging against her cheek and a silver dangling devise only slightly reminiscent of her father's hung from a small braid. Her face was tanned, weather-roughened, and a bit more aged than he remembered, but still breathtakingly beautiful.
"By Billy's bones, she's gotten big. What on earth have you been feeding her?" Pearl asked as she stood. One hip inched up to take a cocky stance that was pure backbone as she studied Emmie right back.
"Aunt Bethany?" Emmie asked in obvious confusion.
"Yes," Pearl answered. "And at the same time an overwhelming no." She walked over to link elbows with the girl and lead her back to the sofa. "It's a bit of a long story. Why don't you have a seat? You as well, Edward," she added with a nod.
"You know him?" Emmie asked as Pearl sat her on the couch between herself and Elizabeth. Will perched on the arm of the couch next to his wife, and Norrington claimed a seat in a nearby chair. When Pearl nodded Emmie shrugged. "I suppose that means he won't arrest you."
"Why should he arrest me?" Pearl asked, brushing the hair from her daughter's face.
"Well, you're obviously a pirate," Emmie said, tone of voice suggesting she had just asked something as obvious as what color the sea was. "Who are you exactly?"
Pearl smiled, glancing over at Elizabeth. "She's a quick one."
"You knew that all ready," Elizabeth told her.
"My given name is Pearl. Pearl Sparrow, if you will," she informed the girl.
Emmie's eyes grew large. "You are? The infamous Pearl Sparrow? Scourge of the high seas?"
"I believe that title belongs to my father, but you're close," she said with a chuckle.
"Wow. I don't believe this. I have a billion questions for you. How did you sack Port Kilington? Is it true that you grew up in Tortuga? Is there a Tortuga? What's it like? And what's Captain Sparrow like? Is he really mad?"
Pearl laughed, waving the girl to a pause. "Please, take a breath. I understand you have questions, dear, but you're asking the wrong ones."
Emmie stared at her for a moment, her head tilting. "Why have you come? Your father isn't in trouble, is he? Do you need Mother and Papa's help?"
Pearl laughed. "No. Jack is fine, something I'm more thankful for some days than others. No, what I'm referring to involves you."
"Me?" Emmie repeated. "But I've not had anything to do with you for my whole life."
"As far as you know," Pearl put in.
Emmie studied her for another moment, before turning to the two people she had always called parents. Their smiles were half-hearted at best. Emmie straightened, sensing for the first time that something was more than not right. "I'm sorry. I don't understand."
Pearl heaved a sigh. "This is difficult for me, Emmie, and it will be a bit of a shock." Emmie fidgeted, twisting her hands together as he eyes widened, but she nodded. Pearl took one of her hands, leaning forward to stare into her eyes. "Emmie, darling, I'm your mother."
Author's Note: Wow. I'm evil. I didn't realize I was that evil. All hope of not being lynched is flying out of the window. Well, I don't have time to post the rest of it now, although it's written. So instead I'm going to force you to review. Now! I'll get it up ASAP. Which may not be terribly soon. School is kicking my butt. Like the test I'm supposed to be working on right now. So review and I'll try to get around to it. Hee.