A Line In The Sand: Deleted Scenes
Scene 6: How James Came To Lose His Sword

Author's Note: This occurs about halfway through Chapter 2 of A Line In The Sand, after James calls Victoria's name and holds her as they are washed overboard, but before he becomes a drunken wreck who tries to kiss her.

Victoria was conscious when they came within sight of a merchant vessel; she too kicked hard at the water to propel them and their small plank of wood towards it. James still had one arm curled tightly around her waist as he squinted up at the men peering over the sides of the ship at them and tightened his hold on her. He didn't let go as they were dragged on board until she slid out of his arms and pushed him away, falling to her knees to splutter and breathe deeply. He stood swaying, feeling the sucking weight of his uniform on him. He was stunned to find his sword still sheathed at his side and he raised a hand to his head to find he still had his wig and hat. He had to tug his hat off, feeling the sucking squelch as it released his wig, before finally crumbling at Victoria's side.

"Are you all right?" he asked.

"Fine," she coughed, wiping her mouth with a trembling hand. "Are you?"

He nodded, wishing she would look away. The Captain of the ship pushed through his men, peering at them closely and James pushed himself upright to face him. Victoria touched her hair nervously, tucking stray wisps under her hat and tried to stand up at James's side. He reached down to put his arm around her waist, because her legs were trembling violently and he found himself so exhausted that leaning on her slightly was helpful.

"I know your face, sir," the Captain said suddenly. "Would I be right in saying you are Commodore Norrington of Port Royal?"

James nodded wearily and it was only when the Captain shot a curious glance at Victoria that James found his voice.

"This is Edward Smith, a cabin boy. We were caught in a hurricane and I ordered my men to abandon ship. Master Smith and I have been adrift for nearly two days."

The Captain muttered to a crewmember who nodded and hurried away. The Captain smiled and extended a hand to James.

"Captain John Trimble. You are welcome aboard the Edinburgh Trader."

"Thank you, Captain," James replied, grasping his hand. "May I ask what your next port of call is?"

The Captain looked a little nervous and didn't answer for a moment. The crewmember he had dispatched returned with a mug of water each and some food which Victoria snatched greedily from his hands.

"I'm afraid our first port of call is Tortuga, Commodore. I have business there," his lip curled slightly in distaste. "We sail for Port Royal after that, we would be more than happy to take you there."

"I understand, Captain. We would be much obliged if you would -"

But the clank of a tin mug interrupted him and James made a grab for Victoria whose legs had given out beneath her. The movement brought him to his knees too, his precious water spilling across the deck.

"Forgive me, Commodore, for keeping you talking. Ogilvy – take the Commodore and Master Smith to rest."

When they docked in Tortuga, James had replaced his shoes with boots and wore new breeches and shirt, as had Victoria, donated by the kind Captain who had so appreciated the work they had done aboard his ship. James's sword, however, that perfect balance and delicate filigree that he had studied until his eyes ached, remained at his side.

"You say your next port of call is Port Royal, Captain Trimble," James said, falling into step beside the Captain as they wound their way through the streets to what Trimble assured them was a quiet tavern.

"Yes, sir. We sail at dawn tomorrow, I'll stay no longer in this place than I have to," Trimble glowered around and tightened his hold on his leather satchel and business papers.

"I know, Captain."

James gave Trimble a polite smile as he held the door of the tavern open for him and Victoria. As they found a table James wondered whether he ought to send Victoria back with Captain Trimble and his men. But he entertained the notion only briefly. Victoria would have to travel without a chaperone and there was always a chance they might discover she was a woman. James preferred to keep her with him until he could ensure her safe and proper return to Port Royal and her brother.

"Captain, I wonder if I may ask a favour of you? I have heard your name spoken with respect in Port Royal and I believe I can trust you to take a letter for me, to be delivered to Governor Swann."

"I thought you would be coming with us?" Trimble replied and Victoria gave James a sharp, searching look.

"No, Captain. I shall stay in Tortuga," his tone indicated this was not a decision for Trimble to pry into. "I would pay you for your trouble, of course," he added, beginning to search his pockets, carefully avoiding Victoria's gaze.

"No, sir, I would not dream of it," Trimble waved his hands vehemently. "You have made it safe for men such as myself to sail without fear of pirates; therefore I think I can do you this turn."

"Thank you, Captain. Could I trouble you for writing materials?"

"Certainly, Commodore."

Trimble searched his satchel and set his writing materials down in front of James and stood up, "I shall give you your privacy, Commodore Norrington."

Trimble frowned a little at Victoria as he walked away, obviously thinking that Master Smith ought to detach himself from the Commodore's side for five minutes at least.

"Thank you, Captain Trimble."

Victoria stared at the writing equipment the man laid before James and James did not trouble himself to explain to her what he was doing. He began writing straight away, the words coming swiftly and easily, as though he had been planning this letter all his life.

"Oh, James!" she gasped. "Resign my position as Commodore in His Majesty's Navy? Surely not? James!"

She put her hand on the paper, forcing him to look up at her. A lock of dirty hair hung down, clinging to her cheek, her shirt was thin and only saved from indecency by the coat she had drawn even tighter around herself. He had brought her to this.

"I was foolhardy, Victoria. I was driven to madness and ordered my men to sail through a hurricane; I do not know how many deaths that caused. Perhaps I shall never know. Tell me that is not my fault, Victoria."

Her mouth opened, but she only made a feeble noise and closed it. For the first time, Victoria Turner had no words of comfort and support for him. For the first time, she was unable to condone and applaud his behaviour.

"But, resigning your commission, James…"

"I have failed in my duty as an officer. The moment I let my own desires overtake my duty I was no longer worthy of my office."

He took advantage of her silence to sign the letter and roll it up. She stared at him, as he placed the letter and his sword before Captain Trimble and thanked him again for his trouble.

He ordered two bottles of rum, sat down opposite Victoria, sipped the rum, and pulled a face. By the time Captain Trimble and his crew left, James had finished his rum and that night, he and Victoria had a sword each.

Neither of them ever realised that no mention of Victoria Turner had been made in James Norrington's letter of resignation.