Obligatory disclaimer: The Mouse owns all, save my own original characters.
A/N: Another short chappie, but I hope the turn-around from the last posting makes up for it. Also, this chapter is my "soapbox" chapter. Thanks for understanding and, again, thanks for reading:)
Julia stiffened in anger as they strolled past a gathering of excited individuals waiting to board a ship. With a glare that could topple an invading army, Julia was unable to prevent a snort from escaping past her lips. By the way the group was dressed and the overheard words of "Negroes" and "slaves," Julia felt her stomach churn at the idea of yet another slave auction.
"Black ivory," she muttered under her breath, then rolled her eyes and sighed in frustration, her pace unconsciously slowing in an attempt to see what was happening on the main deck of the ship.
Norrington watched his self-appointed ward with a calculated eye. He felt the same revulsion at the idea of human trade, but was able to keep his emotions from surfacing amongst such a potentially volatile environment. But he was curious… "You look rather disgusted with the whole affair." His tone was neutral, detached, giving no indication of his opinion on the matter.
Julia stopped in her tracks, then spun to face the captain, her eyes on fire. She hugged the basket tightly to her person, as if her sanity depended on it. Her words came out in a ragged whisper; as if mindful of the danger her words could put the two of them in. "Aye, that I am. More than I can put into words, Captain Norrington. It frightens me greatly that some day I might get a little color to my skin myself and end in the same position they are. There is nothing different between myself and that woman sobbing on the auction block. Nothing except for the color of our skin. Next, who is to say that blonde hair is not superior to brown? Or that brown eyes will not preferred to blue. 'Tis a fine line we all walk, but most are too stupid to know so."
Norrington smiled, finding her candor refreshing, if not reflective of his own viewpoints. Mindful that it was only a matter of time before their words were overheard or someone noticed the anger coloring Julia's features, he continued walking, setting a pace that forced Julia to walk quickly beside him. And thus putting as much distance between themselves and the ship. "Unfortunately you are in the minority in that line of thinking." Norrington's words were carefully chosen, but held a vulnerability that belied his indifferent projection.
Julia nodded her head in agreement, but Norrington noticed that there was a far away look in her eyes; physically Julia might be walking away from the auction but mentally she was standing right beside the woman that people were bidding on. After nodding her head absently for several moments, she finally responded. "That I am, Captain, that I am. What I would give to have enough money to buy them all and then set them free… Let them go back to their homes and their families. They look so brave, so stoic. I do not envy them in the least, but their courage is commendable."
"So far from home…" Norrington left the thought unfinished, feeling his voice catch in his throat. Many times he had been offered huge amounts of compensation to transport enslaved humans, but the money would never be enough. Norrington had done enough unconscionable acts in his lifetime, but the thought of adding to the nightmare these people had to endure was enough to make the financial decision for him quite easy.
I think that is the one thing that Jack Sparrow and I are in agreement over. We both ended our careers with the East India Trading Company for the same reason. If that is not ironic, then the definition of the word has changed.
Julia nodded her head solemnly, wishing she knew if the captain shared her opinions or if it was yet another topic on which they would butt heads. And while their time together was quickly dwindling, it was important to Julia that they be of the same mindset. Her voice was rushed, almost reverent. "Very far. They come mainly from West Africa. The Gold Coast preferably. Since the majority of people being bought over will be growing rice, a very difficult crop to learn to grow, the kidnappers tend to find people who already know how the plant is cultivated."
Julia sighed and then said quietly, her words barely above a whisper, "So confused they must be. Kidnapped, stolen, whatever you want to call it, rushed onto ships to endure a torturous passage, and then ending up on Sullivan's Island out there where they are all quarantined for a week and a half before ending up on the auction block like they are."
"Quarantined?"
Julia barely nodded her head in agreement, her eyes flashing in anger as a woman stumbled as she was pushed onto the auction block. "Yes. There is a lazaretto, a pest house, on the lower end of island where the Africans must stay for ten days. Some Europeans also are sequestered, so it is not solely for slaves – although I am sure that they are just as scared and confused. But no auctions take place on the island; rather, they are brought over to the mainland for that honor. The purpose of the detention is to keep epidemics from sweeping through the colony. And while I have not been able to come up with an alternative, I think the practice barbaric for anyone to have to endure, least of all people who are here against their will. And do not even begin to let me tirade about indentured servitude and the enslavement of the native population. I can only pray that trading becomes even more customary so that the idea of slavery is slowly phased out. Although, I shall not hold my breath."
Norrington felt the same outrage that Julia felt for the plight of their fellow man, but he did not want to defend their viewpoints against an angry mob. And while he wanted to continue their conversation at a later time, he wondered if there was a way to change the subject without raising her ire.
In a hushed voice, Norrington said, "Fear not, for I believe just as you do. I, in no way, condone the actions of those vile men who enslave their fellow man. Just… certain words can be inflammatory and while you yourself are not, I am certainly a stranger in a strange land. And am not comfortable fighting a hugely controversial battle – one that I hope is settled within the next few years – on unfamiliar ground."
Julia could not fault her escort for his lack of verbal conviction in such a public place even if his heart felt otherwise. Normally, she could keep her tongue on such matters at all times, even in private drawing rooms with people of the same persuasion. Always listening, Julia locked people's opinions away and formulated ways to help others. But not until she gathered as many details as possible… and not enough details had been gathered yet. "You are right, I spoke out of turn. Although that should not surprise you in the least at this juncture in our relationship. But now you have something else to worry about. And plenty of it…" Julia emphasized her words with a point of her finger.
"Oh?" The deeply condescending tone lowered the timbre of his voice, causing Julia to shiver unexpectedly. Rubbing her arms absently, Julia forced herself to concentrate on the matter at hand rather than the anger that was starting flare in reaction to his arrogant attitude. But, as the absurdity of the situation dawned on her, it took everything in Julia's power to keep from laughing.
However, she was unable to keep the mirth in her voice, which made her sound much younger than her years. "Oh yes. That little pickpocket just lifted your bag off your person. I would best get after him if you want to get it back!" Her pointed finger followed the bobbing and weaving back of the perpetrator as the crowd began to swallow him from view.
Norrington tore his gaze away from his ward and watched the retreating street urchin as he attempted to get lost in the crowd. It would be just a short sprint before Norrington would catch the troublesome child, but that was not the cause of his irritation. Rather, he found Missus Ramage's delight at his situation aggravating. What the Bloody Hell did she find so damned funny? Are we not on better ground after all this time? Why is my being robbed amusing?
"Stay here," Norrington commanded. "Do not move. Under any circumstances!" With that, he set off at a dead run to retrieve his monies.
Julia knew that she deserved his anger and was unable to explain why she found the situation so entertaining, even to herself. Maybe it was the audacity of the pickpocket to lift a purse not only in broad daylight, but in full view of Julia. Maybe it was the fact that she was finally home and things were still not falling back into normality. But regardless, the captain was roundly irritated with her for finding humor in the situation. And rightfully so.
So wait she would. And patiently, too. In his haste to catch the street urchin, the captain had haphazardly dropped her bags, so Julia squatted to collect her belongings and move them out of the path of others, lest she find herself in the same situation as the captain. Julia then closed her eyes and sighed, her wrists resting on her knees, and began to mentally chastise herself.
You stupid, stupid woman. You just had to find the situation amusing. But, after the conversation about slavery, was it not humorous in comparison? Could nothing be more absurd happen after what we witnessed when departing the ship?
"Missus Ramage."
The words slid like ice across her hot skin. There was no hostility in his voice, only curiosity. And Julia could swear that she heard the undertone of sadness.
Julia looked up from her squatting position, embarrassed to be caught in such an unladylike pose. Quickly scrambling to stand, Julia was unable to meet the captain's eyes as she smoothed her skirt in place. Her words were eager, but barely a whisper. "Captain! You… you got your coin back?"
Norrington smirked. The woman still surprised him. Here she was, dressed in mourning garb – something she had not worn until today – looking quite apologetic and penitent. But he was not about to let go of her actions so easily. "Yes, thanks to your quick eye. Although, no one else has ever laughed when someone was robbed in my vicinity before. I find that remarkably fascinating."
Julia swallowed, hard. "I must confess that I not only found the audacity of the child absurd, but the timing – on the heels of such a… volatile conversation topic – is what I found particularly remarkable. I did not mean to offend." She thought for a moment, then whispered, "For my… inappropriate behavior, please, allow me to make you dinner when we arrive at my home. It will not be much, but it is the least I could do for you."
Norrington carefully considered her offer. And when he thought about the timing of the pickpocket, even Norrington had to admit that Julia was not laughing at him, or even what happened to him, but rather at the timing of the circumstances. And the thought of weevil-free food… "While I would like nothing more than a home-cooked meal, I have to comment on the fact that you have not been home for several weeks."
Julia shrugged, not caring that proper women did no such thing. Suddenly, it was very important to Julia that the captain and she not part ways any sooner than she could prevent, much to her own shock. "Well, it shall not be fancy, but I think I can scrounge up something filling and, if I do say so, tasty. As I said, 'tis the least I can do for you."
Norrington was quiet a moment, silently observing his ward, his brow raised in curiosity. The look on her face was naked and open. Not pleading, but certainly hoping. Why was it that a week or so ago he was regretting not drowning her soon after beginning the voyage and now there was an ache in his chest at the thought of parting ways with her?
Drawing a deep breath, then expelling it in a tired sigh, he acquiesced. "I do thank you. I know that after all the time away, you would like nothing more than your privacy, but I shall impose upon your hospitality. I would very much like to dine with you one last time."
Julia was silent as she fell into step beside the captain, censoring her reply that there was nothing she would like more than to extend the fleeting time they had together. For once, no irritation flowed through her as the captain took over the hiring of a wagon to deliver them to her home.
