Port Royal was gorgeous. It was something Theo had passively acknowledged when she'd watched the movies, but she'd never really stopped to properly notice it. There was always something else going on - like Jack's arrival…or Jack being shot at…or Jack stealing a ship. He had a knack for stealing the show just as happily as he did ships, she'd give him that. But he was nowhere to be seen now, and she was left basking in the beauty of the world she'd been catapulted into without warning.
Very aware of how easy it would be to get turned around if she ventured beyond the main thoroughfares - and with no wish to get lost (because, duty or no, the only way Norrington could currently hate her more would be if he had to have his men launch a search party for her) - she stuck to the main road. Following it lazily down the hill on which the Governor's mansion was situated upon, she passed a number of large stately houses, or smoothed dirt paths leading to them, likely belonging to the senior-most of the men and good ladies residing here. Those houses and paths dotted around eventually gave way to little other than foliage.
For that stretch of the walk, she was alone with her thoughts - save for the odd passing carriage, from which the passengers inside all but hung out of the window to try and catch a glimpse of her. Word of her presence here had undoubtedly spread, and the town was so small that everybody knew everybody. Plus, she was a tall redhead swanning about - for lack of less apt phrasing - in Elizabeth's clothing. It left little doubt as to who she was.
She smelled the town before she saw it, and while it was one thing to hear that towns would not have smelled great as a passing comment in historical documentaries, it was another thing entirely to experience it. Not only was it a glaring reminder of the sort of hygiene standards (or lack thereof) held by the time, along with the lack of modern plumbing, but with the addition of the smells drifting from the butcher, the fishmonger, and even the blacksmith, it did threaten to overwhelm her. It really harmed her hard-won self-perception of not being some sort of swooning delicate flower, but she tried to chalk it up to her ordeal.
Despite her hearty protests to Elizabeth that she would be fine on this little solo expedition - which were born not only out of a desire for solitude, but out of a determination not to be the sort of guest who was permanently under foot - she had to admit, once the smells hit and the heat grew worse as midday beckoned, that she might've bitten off more than she could chew. Sweat had begun to bead steadily down her neck, and there wasn't much of a breeze so that it might cool her, and she was very aware of her pulse pounding in her skull. Without the heart to turn right away and begin walking back up the hill to make the trek back to the mansion, she turned instead for the docks and sought the refreshing air she might find there.
That was all she needed – a sit down, and some peace to think things through. She'd be right as rain after that.
James Norrington was caught in the midst of an annoying week. Not a bad one - after all, none of his men had died over the last few days, and nobody was aiming cannons at his head, so as far as his frame of reference was concerned, all was reasonably well. No, it was just irksome. And it did not appear to be lessening when the primary source of his vexation drifted into his peripheral vision.
At first, for a slight moment, he'd mistaken her for Elizabeth Swann. She was certainly dressed like the Governor's daughter, in a white gown that he'd once noted was very becoming on its rightful owner, her hair bundled atop her head in much the same manner Elizabeth's often was, and what must have been one of Elizabeth's hats propped atop her head. But there was no mistaking the crimson hair…nor the foolishness of her actions.
James sighed, turning his gaze back down to the papers in his hand…although he did not read them.
"Lieutenant Groves."
"Yes, sir?"
"Go and inform Miss Byrne that unless she wishes to fall into the sea a second time, she must vacate that section of the docks as swiftly as possible."
"...Miss Byrne, sir? Governor Swann's guest?"
"The very one," James nodded in her direction, and Groves quickly followed his line of sight before nodding and stepping away.
Only once he'd given him long enough to vacate the ship they'd been getting back up to scratch did James look up from the papers he'd been pretending to busy himself with. He did so reluctantly - half expecting Miss Byrne to be looking right back at him, some scheme ticking behind her eyes. But she was not. In fact, she looked rather pale even despite the tan her burns had faded into, her face drained of most of its colour as one hand clung to the post beside her, her eyes shut and her chest rising and falling in quick succession as she tried to regain her composure.
Even the most talented actress could not blanch at will. They could, however, use pre-existing ailments to their advantage. But to what end? He was fairly certain she did not know he was observing her. Something too closely related to guilt flitted through his chest as he considered the matter - the dilemma - of Theodora Byrne for the thousandth time since meeting her. Their first meeting had not gone particularly well, and although Governor Swann had met him that night to plead her case (and assure him that she had been horrified when their cultural miscommunication, as Weatherby called it, was explained to her), and James was inclined to believe that. She'd have nothing to gain from purposely offending them.
Unfortunately, that was more or less the only part of anything to do with her that he was inclined to believe.
Watching with more interest than he'd own to, he saw as Groves approached the weakened section of the dock with great care, testing the boards beneath his shoes before he stepped forth. It appeared to take a few calls before Miss Byrne came to her senses and noticed him at all. Turning, she blinked at Groves as he remained a few feet safely back, gesturing towards himself as he seemed to explain that she needed to move away. No doubt a touch more gently than James would have done so himself. That might've had something to do with why James had sent him in his stead. But it also gave him much more ample opportunity to observe than he would have if he was involved. From here, he didn't have to concern himself with whether his own façade would coax hers into locking up all while he tried to monitor her and work out what exactly it was she was up to.
She certainly seemed earnest enough as she apologised profusely to Groves – who smiled and joked away her embarrassment with artful ease…and mixed results. For though she offered a smile in return, her discomfort was betrayed in how she twisted her hands in her skirts and ducked her head as Groves continued to speak. None of it rang false to James' eye, even if he tried to make it so - which, truly, he wasn't in the habit of doing. While he saw no profit in deluding himself with heedless optimism, he also saw little benefit in finding foes where none existed. Treating a misfortunate woman who needed his help like she was a criminal, all while she dwelled in the very midst of her woes, would be just as unforgiveable as failing to see ill intent if it was there.
And yet none of that helped him unpuzzle why something about…about her simply rang false to his instincts. Yes, there was the possibility that it was nothing sinister – she'd hardly be the first woman to come to Port Royal with a secret or two – but she would be the first to do so and find herself living with the Swanns. That made all of the difference. They were good people, the very best. He had no desire to see them being taken advantage of due to that fact.
So deep in thought had he been that he found himself staring back like an idiot when Miss Byrne finally sensed his gaze on her, turning her head and pinning him beneath the weight of her sharp blue-grey eyes. His comfort at being caught unguarded was that she seemed as startled to find herself on the other end of his gaze as he did hers, her eyes widening as she faltered, and then haltingly lifted a hand in a reluctant imitation of a wave.
There was little chance of him returning it. But seeing that he'd been caught observing – and that, annoyingly, Groves seemed to be in little hurry to leave their new arrival, James sighed and turned away from the rail of the ship.
Theo watched with disappointment, but not a great deal of surprise, when Norrington responded to her wave by not responding to her wave at all. Not even a nod was given in response, and she watch as he sighed and turned away, walking out of sight.
"I wasn't…I was…"
God, getting used to speaking in a time-appropriate manner was doing nothing to help her not sound like a bumbling idiot. Of course, what also did not help was the fact that every time Groves spoke to her, he did so with the voice of one of her favourite video game characters – one her Inquisitor had married an unspeakable number of times in Dragon Age: Inquisition – which just added a fresh, new layer to the surreal nature of being surrounded by people who should not actually exist. No offence to them. Although she supposed around here, she was the one who shouldn't actually exist, so it was all just a matter of perspective, really. Norrington seemed to be firmly settling into that opinion, at least.
After a shocking number of false starts, and a great deal of patience from Groves, she finally collected herself and achieved the glowing feat of a full sentence.
"I was feeling out of sorts, and I thought I'd sit down and…look at the ships…"
Maybe ship-spotting had caught on in the days before trainspotting was a possibility.
"Look at the ships?" he echoed with a bemused smile "Have you family in the Navy?"
"No, no – it's just an, erm, academic interest. Although not that academic considering I don't know that much."
The smile remained on Groves' face, and she was growing increasingly relieved to find that Elizabeth wasn't the only person in Port Royal to find her weirdness endearing. Not least because she still wasn't feeling entirely right, and she might need him to catch her if she passed out.
"Well, if you've any questions I'll be happy to answer them. I wouldn't go as far as to say that I'm an expert, but I do know a thing or two about ships."
"An occupational hazard, I'd guess," she said – and he chuckled and agreed. "Don't you have to get back to your captain?"
"I was sent to remove you from the dock, and to ascertain that you were well. Forgive me, but you're still worryingly pale, so I believe my job is not yet done."
He was hardly wrong. While she was feeling better than she had, she still didn't fancy her chances at successfully completing the walk back to the Governor's mansion just yet.
"What makes the Interceptor so fast? One of the fastest in the Caribbean, right?"
"The fastest," Groves corrected proudly.
Well, he could debate Jack on that matter later. Disagreeing would only make her sound like a pirate – and Groves continued before she could do so, anyway.
"She's a brig, so she's smaller and more manoeuvrable, along with having less weight to be hauled by the sails."
"I suppose you don't need the sort of guns a man-of-war packs when you're on them before they can sneeze. Or when Captain Norrington's at the helm."
Groves chuckled, "The Captain has earned his reputation, to be sure."
"I did have another question, but I think it's going to sound daft," as daft as sitting on a structurally questionable dock in front of a whole shipload of men, she supposed. "The…the bottom bit of the ship. The panels…"
"The keel?" he guessed with that same amused smile.
"Probably," she shrugged, "It looks a bit different to the others – it's inspired by Viking longships, isn't it? Is that how it gets the speed?"
His eyebrows shot up towards his wig.
"Yes, I believe so. Very good! They did revolutionise shipbuilding, and so you'd be hard-pressed to find a ship today that doesn't benefit from their methods in some way or another, but the Interceptor…she leans a bit more into that than, say, the Dauntless."
"Heathens they might have been, but there were not entirely useless."
The unmistakeable voice of Captain James Norrington joined the fray, and the nice moment she'd been enjoying of feeling like a normal person having a normal chat was shattered in an instant. Theo felt the smile on her face become a touch more strained as she turned to greet him.
"Well, even a broken clock's right twice a day, right? Hello, Captain Norrington."
"Miss Byrne. You appear much improved."
"Give me another week and I'll be able to work out for myself why this was the one completely empty dock in the port," her smile gained a sheepish quality "I'm sorry."
"It's no matter."
"Yeah- yes, well, while I'm apologising – I misspoke last time we met."
Norrington cleared his throat, "Governor Swann offered your explanation and apology both last we spoke. Do not trouble yourself with it, madam."
"I know, but it's my apology to give and so I should be the one to give it. I didn't realise what I was implying at the time, and that wasn't what I meant by it. I'm sorry. Genuinely."
"It's no matter," he repeated, "Put it from your mind, Miss Byrne."
Well. It wasn't exactly the warm and rosy acceptance she'd been hoping for. Although warm and rosy were not things she'd come to expect from Norrington in their short acquaintance, either, so she didn't feel much of a sense of loss.
"How is it that you come to know so much about ships?"
Every the straightforward one, he asked her the question bluntly before an awkward silence could even think to settle over them. Groves, at least, appeared relieved for it – it was obvious he hadn't known quite what to do with himself as she'd made her apologies to his captain.
"From a book."
Or a TV series on Amazon Prime. Same thing, really. Kind of. In a metaphorical way.
"A book? A book that you read?"
"Only when smacking it against my forehead didn't get me anywhere."
Groves covered up a laugh with a cough, but Norrington seemed far too concerned with her scandalous book-reading to send so much as a withering glare in the direction of his lieutenant. It was almost enough to stop her from noticing the way one corner of his lips just slightly twitched upwards. One of these days she'd manage to get a smile out of him. She'd settle for a smirk.
"What was the name of this book?" he levelled the question her way like it was a challenge.
Oh god, did he think she was lying about what she read now? Sure, technically she was, but this was getting a touch ridiculous.
"It…was a series of tales and legends about Ragnar Lothbrok. I forget the author. The account of how he first found the Lindisfarne monastery is fascinating, though."
Hopefully he'd realise that if this was part of her dastardly plan to earn herself a false reputation as a Viking historian in Port Royal, she'd have made up the name of an author…but she'd thrown in an errant detail just for good measure.
"I shall have to read it," he said flatly.
God, if he ever did catch her out in some sort of scheme, he'd be bloody thrilled – because so far, he'd been blatantly pissed off every time he realised she wasn't up to something.
"Right. Well. It was nice to meet you, Lieutenant Groves," she said, smoothing her skirts and preparing to make an exit.
It was becoming clear that Norrington was reluctant to leave her here – lest she go plummeting through the dock through sheer force of stupidity.
"And you, Miss Byrne," Groves, at least, offered her a smile.
"And I'm glad I got a chance to offer you my apologies in person, Captain Norrington. Thank you for hearing me out."
His brow furrowed a little at that – she'd spoken with her eyes meeting his, hoping to show him just how sincere she was. Judging by how he faltered, he saw it. The furrow in his brow lessened, and then he finally offered her a nod and a 'have a pleasant day, Miss Byrne' that didn't even sound like a thinly veiled 'piss off'.
They remained on the dock behind her when she took her leave, and Norrington must've underestimated the scope of her hearing, for once he thought she was out of earshot, he asked Groves quietly.
"Tell me, Lieutenant, what do you make of Miss Byrne?"
"Miss Byrne, sir?"
"Yes."
"I…I suppose I found her rather charming."
The silence that evoked wad nothing short of deafening.
A/N: The ship trivia here is 90% invention based tenuous fact. If it's accurate, that's a stroke of pure luck, but it's probably not. Just a mild disclaimer. Leaning into the 'fantasy' aspect of historical fantasy here lolol.
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