Julia shuddered as fingers of lightening skittered across the night sky, illuminating the wood of the deck as if it were liquid gold. The wind had picked up considerably, pulling her hair loose from its knot, whipping the skin of her cheeks. Drops of water pelted her face, stinging with each impact, as the wind caused whitecaps to appear on the waves. Wrapping her shawl more tightly around her shoulders, Julia hugged her arms across her chest and watched, helpless, as the men ran across the deck, fastening rigging and doing their best to keep the ship properly balanced. It was promising to be a brutal storm. Julia was terrified to stay and watch, lest she get in the way, but even more afraid to move below deck, where she would be even closer to the watery depths that threatened to drag them to their watery graves.
Despite hearing the tales that Davy Jones was no longer a threat to passengers of the sea, Julia really did not want to find out firsthand.
I just want to get home. Is that so difficult?
"Missus Ramage, the storm is about to unleash all its fury down on us. This is no place for you… no place for anyone. I highly suggest that you take shelter in your cabin. Immediately."
The hushed voice of Captain Norrington ghosted across her skin, like a whisper in the night. Julia turned, about to say that it was the first time they were ever in agreement, but the man before her was a stranger. His eyes were empty of all emotion, constantly moving as he scanned the darkening sky, with its ominous clouds, and the crew that was restrained terror in motion. But, for once, Julia was glad of his remoteness, his single-handed focus of the disaster at hand. Captain Norrington was fixated on getting through the potential calamity and be damned anything that got in the way of saving the ship. If he showed any signs of fear, Julia knew she would be in the throws of panic.
Knowing that his request was more of a command, and one best carried out, Julia silently nodded her head and was about to turn so that she could head below deck when Norrington said, softly, "I know how difficult it can be to ride out a storm below deck. I do not envy the animals in their cages and pens. Would you feel safer taking refuge in my quarters? I will not be there and you will not be so far into the bowels of her hull that you feel trapped. But you have to decide quickly…"
A cross between a sigh and gasp passed through Julia's lips. She blinked several times as she considered his suggestion. His offer was certainly generous and charitable. And quite surprising. But, by the look in his eyes, heartfelt also. It did not take her long to acquiesce.
"Thank you," she said softly, barely audible above the barrage of the storm, knowing that the words were unable to convey how beholden she felt to Captain Norrington for his generosity.
But her words managed to make their way through the din and reached the captain's ears. He smiled tightly, but there was a kindness in the depths of his emerald orbs that glinted in the darkness. The terror that was building deep in her abdomen was subsiding slightly. She had to trust the men to do their jobs. But trust was an emotion that was as foreign to her as the tongue spoken by the native people of the Caribbean; Julia just did not understand how. And after being held at arm's length for so long, it was difficult to immediately follow the orders of the captain.
Taking a moment to collect her thoughts, time she knew she did not truly have, Julia turned her face to the heavens and spoke reverently, almost like a prayer to God.
"'Since
I was man,
Such sheets of fire, such bursts of torrid thunder
Such
groans of roaring wind and rain, I never
Remember to have heard.'"
Norrington watched the emotions wash over Missus Ramage's face. In the darkness, her skin glowed with a luminescence that appeared otherworldly. But when the lightening danced across the sky, causing the night to be lit as if day, he saw the fear bruising shadows beneath her eyes and the deep furrow of concern between her eyes. But he had no time to coddle a simpering female, not when his men's lives were at stake. "King Lear, Missus Ramage. Now, I have matters to attend to. I will find you when the danger has passed. And I assure you, no matter what, I shall retrieve you. Now, please, seek shelter from the storm."
Julia nodded her head in comprehension, but the captain was already halfway to the helm of the ship; his stride confident and precise, despite the water rolling across the deck. "Thank you, Captain Norrington!" she shouted at his retreating back, hoping he could hear her above the wind.
A raised hand in acknowledgement showed that her words were carried to his ears. Wrapping her arms even tighter around herself, despite being completely drenched and thoroughly chilled, Julia turned and scrambled across the slick boards to his cabin door. With a deep breath, she turned the doorknob and entered the captain's private quarters, her ever-present feline shadow at her heels.
o.o.o.o.o
The cabin door flung open, crashing against the wall, startling Julia from her prayers. A gasp escaped past her lips as she turned her face away from the corner of the room she had been huddled in, towards the sound of the commotion. Filling the doorway looked to be a shadow of the captain, but the actual man standing before her was a wreck. Julia had been kneeling in the corner, terrified that she would meet her end in the watery depths, a thrice-prayed rosary in her hands. After a moment's hesitation, Julia quickly rose to her feet, smoothing the front of her skirt as she stood. Daring to cast a glance out the window out of the corner of her eye, she was relieved that the skies looked calm and peaceful as the moon caused the water to glow luminescent, rippling waves of silver. She was just unsure if another storm was about to brew in the cabin.
Norrington looked as if he had been to the bottom on the sea and back, as if he had laughed in the face of Davy Jones – and won. His clothes, soaked through and plastered to his body, were a second skin. Exhaustion pinched his features. His hair curtained his eyes, torn loose from his queue, but he was either too exhausted to notice or too exhausted to care. His left hand randomly reached out, looking for something to brace his weight against. As his body followed his hand, Captain Norrington wobbled as his steps faltered. It was as if the act of standing was now too much for him to bear.
"Captain! Are you alright?" Julia wavered between rushing forward to support the captain, who looked as if he would collapse under the pressure of his own weight, or if she should stay rooted in the corner. She wet her lips, unsure of what to say or do. Wringing the fabric of her skirt in her balled-up fists, Julia opted to wait and see how the conversation progressed.
The question paused his swaying and brought Norrington out of his trance-like state. Her words, low and husky, were like a soft caress against his cheek. He lurched forward into the room, oblivious to the door gaping open behind him. Norrington laughed, the sound devoid of all humor. Realizing that she expected an answer, he slowly nodded his head. "Yes." His voice was soft, barely audible. He sounded worn down. "Thank you."
His words were hardly convincing, but Julia chose to ignore the tone of his voice for the moment. She ventured a step forward, her step hesitant. As tense as a rabbit in the path of a hungry eagle, Julia was ready to dart around the captain and make her way to her cabin if need be. "And the men?"
A corner of his mouth quirked up in the pathetic attempt of a smile, but the effort was more than he was able to exert. His smile came out more of a grimace, which Norrington tried to wipe from his lips as he drug his hand across his face, forcing back the exhaustion. So cold. I feel as if I shall never get warm again. His feet barely left the floor as Norrington staggered over to a chair, collapsing into the wooden cathedra, grateful it supported his weight.
"Your concern is… much appreciated. It was they who saved your life. If not for them…" His face was buried in his hands, as if the act of holding his head upright was too much exertion. His words were muffled, but heartfelt. "Thank you for asking. The men are all fine. No one was lost and no one was hurt badly."
Julia nodded her head, unsure if she should retreat out of the room or continue her inquiry. The captain needed to get out of his wet clothes – lest he fall ill – but it was a suggestion Julia was unwilling to propose. However, the more time passed, the less likely Captain Norrington would want to vacate his seat. Julia knew she really should say something, but such conversation was highly inappropriate. Despite Captain Norrington's judgment of her.
The silence became deafening, but Julia was unwilling to leave the captain until he was out of his chair, heading towards his chambers. Rubbing her fingers along the beads of her rosary, Julia whispered, almost to herself, "Cowards die many times before their deaths; The valiant never taste of death but once."
Norrington chuckled quietly, almost to himself, finding Missus Ramage's incessant quoting of Shakespeare mildly amusing. Especially after such an eventful evening. But her quote from Julius Caesar, while trite, was never more accurate then of the men under his command. Knowing he was truly blessed to have such a fearless crew, Norrington would have mourned the loss of any of his men with every fiber of his being but would have been proud of the fight they had put up.
The sea had boiled, heaving upward towards the sky, then plummeting downward as if being sucked into the very depths of Hell. Wave after wave, each more powerful than the last, rose thirty, forty feet into the air, then came crashing down on the Amphitrite's deck. Long, white, clawing fingers of foam sought victims to grasp and pull into the churning black water. Although there were several close calls, the ocean claimed no crewmen, although the howling wind did tear loose a handful of the sails, which several members of the crew were frantically trying to lower, causing several moments of near panic. But not one man gave in to his fear and abandoned their task, thus everyone would be setting foot on dry land when they docked in Charles Towne.
Norrington chuckled again, this time much louder, the sound startling Julia – which tickled him even more. "I should let you get to bed, Missus Ramage."
Her cheeks colored at the mention of her berth and she held her breath. It took her a moment to realize that he was not speaking inappropriately with her, but was dismissing her so he could retire for some much deserved sleep. Julia silently nodded her head and made to move past his chair, but stopped in the doorway.
"What about the ship?" Her words were quiet, soft against his ear.
Ah, her true concern finally voiced! A short laugh barked past his lips. She cared not for any of the crew, only whether the vessel was still seaworthy. In his anger, he quickly stood; gladdened that Missus Ramage recoiled at the sudden movement.
But in rising so quickly, a wooziness suddenly descended upon him and Captain Norrington unceremoniously found himself back in his chair again, his tailbone smarting from the impact. Quicker than he could blink, Missus Ramage was kneeling at his side. Concern marred her features and her hands were coiled into fists, itching to help in some way but tempered by possible retribution.
"Captain?"
The single word she uttered, his title, carried as much concern and distress as he had ever heard in his life. Certainly Elizabeth Swann would never emote such emotion towards anything regarding you or yours. Realizing that he was mistaken in thinking her questions were self-serving, Captain Norrington ignored Missus Ramage's last question and answered her one prior.
"Save for a bit of water taken on board, she is fine. Some of the men are manning pumps, which will take care of that, and by dawn's light, the ol' girl will be better than ever. It was a tough battle, but my men were victorious. They were not about to let this ol' girl down. Thirty foot waves be damned." He allowed himself to scan her face; her features awash in kindness were suddenly tattooed in his memory. He felt utter shame in his mental accusations just moments earlier. He felt utter shame in all the accusations, mental and verbal, he had previously charged her with.
Then he noticed the crimson tint in the whites of her eyes. "Your eyes. You were crying." His words, softly spoken, caused new tears to well up, glistening along her eyelashes unshed.
She ducked her head away and pushed herself upright. This would never do. Never mind the fact that the captain is reaching out to you. He is exhausted and about to fall ill. And in dire need of someone to comfort him. But do not let it be you. "No, 'tis the seawater that caused them to redden."
The tone of her voice made Captain Norrington realize that he was correct in his statement, but that it was not a topic of conversation she wished to continue. Missus Ramage stood beside him, looking ready to bolt, but yet she tarried. He was curious as to her reasons for lingering, especially after the malice he had shown her the night before, but was grateful for the company. No matter how strained the conversation. If she stood, then he must also. He struggled to push himself upright, waving off Missus Ramage's attempts to assist.
Noticing how his teeth were beginning to chatter and how his wet clothes draped from his frame, Julia stood and made to move past him. As she gathered her skirts, Norrington reached out and grabbed Julia's elbow, stilling her. "If I might request…" His voice faltered. Norrington swallowed hard, hating the vulnerability he felt. But he pressed on. "Might I request your company for a drink to warm us both before you go back to your cabin?"
He was close. Too close. His breath was warm across her cheek, her neck. Despite the cold of the water causing him to shiver, Julia could feel the heat radiating from his person, rolling off his skin, grazing her arm. Julia fought the impulse to wrench her elbow free and flee back to her cabin. She fought the impulse to turn and find out what his lips felt like against hers, not caring that to do so would solidify her status as wanton. Suddenly she did not trust her instincts – and had no idea as to Captain Norrington's intentions.
"I… I should let you get some sleep. Nothing like a warm blanket to cure what ails you. And a good night's sleep." Julia blushed at the indirect reference she made at his wet clothes. "Thank you again for use of your quarters. I will see you in–."
"Please." The word rushed past his lips in a harsh punctuation. The anguish in his voice pulled at Julia's heartstrings. When Julia looked down at the hand still clasped around her arm, Norrington followed her gaze, then let go and dropped his arm to his side. He tried another tactic. "I am exhausted, but sleep will not come anytime soon. And… I would love the company. Besides, I would like to try to make amends. I have been anything but kind to you of late."
Suddenly, Julia found it difficult to breathe. The good captain was extending the figurative olive branch, so she would be remiss to deny the offer. But was he thinking of a more horizontal conversation? To say no may be the ruin of an attempted friendship and to say yes may be the ruin of my already tattered reputation. Pursing her lips, she contemplated the situation and after a deafening silence, Julia silently nodded her acquiesce, slowly expelling the breath she did not know that she had been holding in. She felt so fragile that drawing a full breath might shatter her into a million pieces.
He nodded his head, a grin slowly forming on his lips. "Then give me but a moment to change. These wet clothes wear me more than I wear them. I shall be right back. Please, have a seat. Make yourself as comfortable in these uncomfortable surroundings as you can." Pivoting on his heel, Captain Norrington went and closed the door leading to the deck, then retreated out of the room and closed the door to his private chamber behind him.
Not really sure of the protocol of sharing a drink in the quarters of a ship's captain, Julia sank into the seat the captain had recently abandoned. Propping her elbows in the table, she looked at the rosary still clasped in her hand. Rotating the crucifix between her fingers, her fingers sliding along the metal cross, Julia contemplated the course of events over the past several days.
I am in the private quarters of an unmarried man. A very handsome, unmarried man. An unmarried man whom is undressing in the other room. The same man who despised me on sight is now asking me to share a libation with him. I have no idea how I ended up here. None whatsoever. Why… why am I unable to grasp these changes in events? What happened that caused his hatred to turn to… should I even call it friendship? My head hurts. I should never have gone to the Caribbean in the first place. But…
The rosary bounced against the wooden tabletop when Julia was startled out of her reverie. Captain Norrington cleared his throat as he reentered the room. Julia swiveled in her seat. His lanky frame draped against the doorframe of his private quarters. Julia clasped a hand over her mouth to stifle a gasp and turned her head in embarrassment, her cheeks burning.
