Pre-CotBP Goodness!
Title: Our Wandering Kind (year one): The True British Climate
Author: artemismuse
Pairing: Norribeth, but not quite yet, except in Liz's head (she's only 12)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, except to apologize if I've got any naval terminology wrong or am historically inaccurate. I could probably do with a beta. Right now, I'm just building up their friendship and laying the foundations for true love. ;)
Status: WIP, Part One of... several.
Summary: James and Elizabeth meet aboard the Dauntless... neither is what the other expected.
James has heard the stories, of course. One of the first things the crew does when a new naval officer joins the HMS Dauntless at Port Royal is to tell him the stories about Elizabeth Swann, Governor's daughter and general terror. He has heard the one about the canon that suddenly shot confetti instead of cannonballs; the one about the Commander's flaming wig; the one about the false pirate sighting and panic she'd instigated when she was bored one afternoon; the one where she somehow clambered up the rigging and it took half an hour to get her down; he's even heard the one where the Dauntless acquired a new flag in the form of the Captain's underpants. He smirks at the child's audacity, and then sobers, remembering. As the youngest and newest addition to Her Majesty's Royal Navy, it will be James's responsibility to watch her and entertain her whenever the Governor is aboard the ship-Frightful Fridays, the crew calls them. The man passing on the duty to James has made it eminently clear how thrilled he is to be rid of her and her willfulness. Well, James thinks, trying to be positive, at least he doesn't wear a wig, so that's one disaster out of the question.
To say James is anxious about meeting the Governor and his child would be a gross understatement. He is the youngest man to be made Lieutenant he has ever heard about; at merely 17, this second son does his family proud. He has earned the title, too, in combat and through flawless execution of command and dedication to the Navy. He has met the Governor only once before, at his ceremony of rank when he was elevated to Lieutenant, and the Governor was so impressed with him then that he requested James be transferred to the Dauntless after his tour of duty was over.
Now he stands rigid at attention while the Governor and his daughter approach the ship. The daughter in question is a small child of about twelve with curly, blondish hair and a parasol which she carries, it appears, for the sole purpose of whacking the junior officers on the shins with it when they are not looking.
"Best of luck with her, mate," a midshipman whispers to him in passing. James tries to smile. Can't be seen looking terrified in front of the men. Sets a bad example. He manages an eyebrow twitch.
"At ease," the Governor says, turning his attention to James.
"Lieutenant Norrington, welcome. Adjusting to your new position, I trust?"
"Yes, sir," James says, "I'm settling in very well, thank you."
"Good, good. Port Royale is a most excellent port of call. I expect the climate in your last posting left much to be desired."
"Ah, indeed, the Caribbean is much more agreeable than the North." Where his family still resides, he thinks, missing them with an almost tangible ache. But no, longing is hardly an appropriate emotion for a soldier, which is what he has become.
"I'm glad. Here, we like to say that we have the true British climate- as it ought to be." He smiles down benevolently at Elizabeth. "Lieutenant, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Elizabeth."
"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Elizabeth," he says, bending from the waist to bow to her. She bows back soberly with perfect execution.
"Elizabeth," Governor Swann hisses, "we curtsy! We do not bow." Elizabeth rolls her eyes at her father and beckons James closer. He obliges, placing his ear level with her mouth.
"Don't mind him, he's a bit stuffy and old," she whispers. "Most people around here are. I'm so glad you're not old."
"I'm rather pleased about it, as well," James whispers back.
"You have nice eyes," she tells him. "Green's my favorite color."
"Thank you. It's one of my favorites as well," he confides before he straightens up again. The girl smiles up at James, raising her voice for the benefit of her father.
"We're going to be good friends, I can tell. You can teach me about the sea and ships and I'll introduce you to Port Royal." James raises his eyebrows at the girl's outspokenness, then smiles back. He notes the determined gleam in her eye, as if daring him to challenge her or say she is too young and he is too busy to be interested in what she might know.
"I would enjoy nothing more," he says, hoping he has made a good impression. The Governor looks relieved.
"You'll have many things to talk about, I expect. Excellent. Well, come along, Elizabeth." And just like that, they are gone again in a whirl of brocade, lace and bruised shins.
James does not find her trying, he reflects after their first meeting. She seems to him to be a quick-witted little thing, and equipped with a good deal more spunk than usually allotted the fairer sex. Her honest opinions are a refreshing change from the typical Navy boot-licking. He had not anticipated that part of his Naval duties would be playing governess, but he supposes it could be worse, and he is sure he will never be bored on her weekly visits. He likes her, he decides cautiously. Her boldness reminds him of his sister Amelia. Thinking of family reminds him that he ought to write a letter home, so he pulls the pen and ink closer and sucks on the nib for a while, thinking of where to begin.
My dearest family, he writes, you will be pleased to hear that your James has been made a Lieutenant already. Before you ask, mother, I hardly ever get seasick now. Send my love to Amelia, and tell her that I promise her a letter of her own detailing my adventures with the Governor's daughter, who is as spirited a heroine as she would wish to read about…
Later, the other officers marvel at Elizabeth's affinity for James over glasses of gin.
"Bloody hell, James, you're the first one she's liked! How d'you tame the little beast?" James shrugs modestly.
"I have a sister who would be around her age now." He smiles, thinking about some small private happiness that suffuses him with warmth.
"Better you than me, mate. Cheers."
"A toast. To James, and smooth sailing with the Swanns." They all raise their glasses.
"To James!"
In the weeks and months that follow, James makes good on his promise and teaches Elizabeth about the sea. He will have to check with the Governor to find out what parts of sailing lore and a sailor's skill-set are appropriate for a young lady to learn. In the meantime, he distracts her from her usual reign of terror with explanations of how to navigate by the stars at night and how the wind can be a seaman's best friend or worst enemy, depending on where he wants to go. He takes her on a tour of the Dauntless and includes the guts of the ship, places she has never seen before. She is in no danger of getting dirty in her play clothes, castoffs from Amelia he has had sent from home for this purpose. He refuses to treat her as a delicate flower, except when the Governor is looking, because he remembers what it was like to be her age and how tedious adults could be when they wanted you to behave. He also refuses to talk down to her or make the mistake of thinking she is ignorant because she is young.
She, in turn, makes good on her end of their bargain and, with her father's permission, takes him on tours of Port Royal. She tells him what the best fresh markets are, where to find live music and beautiful dyed wool blankets, what sections of town to avoid. James wonders how she knows all this, since he was under the impression that she led a sheltered life, but the girl must give the slip to her guardians on a regular basis and go exploring. James imagines she is grateful for the company, particularly that of someone closer to her own age.
They are striking up a queer friendship, he thinks, not unlike his relationship with Amelia. He misses home less now that he has Elizabeth to keep an eye on, and in some ways he looks forward to her weekly visits, though he knows the other officers mock him behind his back. On the other six days a week, therefore, he maintains the strictest dignity and discipline possible, feeling a need to prove himself to his fellow officers as a good sailor, not just a nursemaid.
"Papa," Elizabeth tells her father at home one evening shortly after their introduction, "that's the man I'm going to marry."
"Of course you will, darling," the Governor says, a bit distracted. It doesn't hurt to indulge her fancies; she'll probably forget all about it by tomorrow, anyway. She's only twelve, after all. She sets her lip stubbornly and stamps her foot.
"I'm serious, Papa." He kisses her forehead.
"I know, dear, I know. Now run along to bed, that's a good girl. There'll be plenty of time to think of marriage when you're older."
In her room, surveying the landscape of Port Royal from her window, Elizabeth knows better. She can feel that he was meant for her, even if he can't yet. And in her dreams, she and James make a raft out of the scraps of her skirts and sail till dawn.
Author: artemismuse
Pairing: Norribeth, but not quite yet, except in Liz's head (she's only 12)
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, except to apologize if I've got any naval terminology wrong or am historically inaccurate. I could probably do with a beta. Right now, I'm just building up their friendship and laying the foundations for true love. ;)
Status: WIP, Part One of... several.
Summary: James and Elizabeth meet aboard the Dauntless... neither is what the other expected.
James has heard the stories, of course. One of the first things the crew does when a new naval officer joins the HMS Dauntless at Port Royal is to tell him the stories about Elizabeth Swann, Governor's daughter and general terror. He has heard the one about the canon that suddenly shot confetti instead of cannonballs; the one about the Commander's flaming wig; the one about the false pirate sighting and panic she'd instigated when she was bored one afternoon; the one where she somehow clambered up the rigging and it took half an hour to get her down; he's even heard the one where the Dauntless acquired a new flag in the form of the Captain's underpants. He smirks at the child's audacity, and then sobers, remembering. As the youngest and newest addition to Her Majesty's Royal Navy, it will be James's responsibility to watch her and entertain her whenever the Governor is aboard the ship-Frightful Fridays, the crew calls them. The man passing on the duty to James has made it eminently clear how thrilled he is to be rid of her and her willfulness. Well, James thinks, trying to be positive, at least he doesn't wear a wig, so that's one disaster out of the question.
To say James is anxious about meeting the Governor and his child would be a gross understatement. He is the youngest man to be made Lieutenant he has ever heard about; at merely 17, this second son does his family proud. He has earned the title, too, in combat and through flawless execution of command and dedication to the Navy. He has met the Governor only once before, at his ceremony of rank when he was elevated to Lieutenant, and the Governor was so impressed with him then that he requested James be transferred to the Dauntless after his tour of duty was over.
Now he stands rigid at attention while the Governor and his daughter approach the ship. The daughter in question is a small child of about twelve with curly, blondish hair and a parasol which she carries, it appears, for the sole purpose of whacking the junior officers on the shins with it when they are not looking.
"Best of luck with her, mate," a midshipman whispers to him in passing. James tries to smile. Can't be seen looking terrified in front of the men. Sets a bad example. He manages an eyebrow twitch.
"At ease," the Governor says, turning his attention to James.
"Lieutenant Norrington, welcome. Adjusting to your new position, I trust?"
"Yes, sir," James says, "I'm settling in very well, thank you."
"Good, good. Port Royale is a most excellent port of call. I expect the climate in your last posting left much to be desired."
"Ah, indeed, the Caribbean is much more agreeable than the North." Where his family still resides, he thinks, missing them with an almost tangible ache. But no, longing is hardly an appropriate emotion for a soldier, which is what he has become.
"I'm glad. Here, we like to say that we have the true British climate- as it ought to be." He smiles down benevolently at Elizabeth. "Lieutenant, I'd like you to meet my daughter, Elizabeth."
"I'm very pleased to make your acquaintance, Elizabeth," he says, bending from the waist to bow to her. She bows back soberly with perfect execution.
"Elizabeth," Governor Swann hisses, "we curtsy! We do not bow." Elizabeth rolls her eyes at her father and beckons James closer. He obliges, placing his ear level with her mouth.
"Don't mind him, he's a bit stuffy and old," she whispers. "Most people around here are. I'm so glad you're not old."
"I'm rather pleased about it, as well," James whispers back.
"You have nice eyes," she tells him. "Green's my favorite color."
"Thank you. It's one of my favorites as well," he confides before he straightens up again. The girl smiles up at James, raising her voice for the benefit of her father.
"We're going to be good friends, I can tell. You can teach me about the sea and ships and I'll introduce you to Port Royal." James raises his eyebrows at the girl's outspokenness, then smiles back. He notes the determined gleam in her eye, as if daring him to challenge her or say she is too young and he is too busy to be interested in what she might know.
"I would enjoy nothing more," he says, hoping he has made a good impression. The Governor looks relieved.
"You'll have many things to talk about, I expect. Excellent. Well, come along, Elizabeth." And just like that, they are gone again in a whirl of brocade, lace and bruised shins.
James does not find her trying, he reflects after their first meeting. She seems to him to be a quick-witted little thing, and equipped with a good deal more spunk than usually allotted the fairer sex. Her honest opinions are a refreshing change from the typical Navy boot-licking. He had not anticipated that part of his Naval duties would be playing governess, but he supposes it could be worse, and he is sure he will never be bored on her weekly visits. He likes her, he decides cautiously. Her boldness reminds him of his sister Amelia. Thinking of family reminds him that he ought to write a letter home, so he pulls the pen and ink closer and sucks on the nib for a while, thinking of where to begin.
My dearest family, he writes, you will be pleased to hear that your James has been made a Lieutenant already. Before you ask, mother, I hardly ever get seasick now. Send my love to Amelia, and tell her that I promise her a letter of her own detailing my adventures with the Governor's daughter, who is as spirited a heroine as she would wish to read about…
Later, the other officers marvel at Elizabeth's affinity for James over glasses of gin.
"Bloody hell, James, you're the first one she's liked! How d'you tame the little beast?" James shrugs modestly.
"I have a sister who would be around her age now." He smiles, thinking about some small private happiness that suffuses him with warmth.
"Better you than me, mate. Cheers."
"A toast. To James, and smooth sailing with the Swanns." They all raise their glasses.
"To James!"
In the weeks and months that follow, James makes good on his promise and teaches Elizabeth about the sea. He will have to check with the Governor to find out what parts of sailing lore and a sailor's skill-set are appropriate for a young lady to learn. In the meantime, he distracts her from her usual reign of terror with explanations of how to navigate by the stars at night and how the wind can be a seaman's best friend or worst enemy, depending on where he wants to go. He takes her on a tour of the Dauntless and includes the guts of the ship, places she has never seen before. She is in no danger of getting dirty in her play clothes, castoffs from Amelia he has had sent from home for this purpose. He refuses to treat her as a delicate flower, except when the Governor is looking, because he remembers what it was like to be her age and how tedious adults could be when they wanted you to behave. He also refuses to talk down to her or make the mistake of thinking she is ignorant because she is young.
She, in turn, makes good on her end of their bargain and, with her father's permission, takes him on tours of Port Royal. She tells him what the best fresh markets are, where to find live music and beautiful dyed wool blankets, what sections of town to avoid. James wonders how she knows all this, since he was under the impression that she led a sheltered life, but the girl must give the slip to her guardians on a regular basis and go exploring. James imagines she is grateful for the company, particularly that of someone closer to her own age.
They are striking up a queer friendship, he thinks, not unlike his relationship with Amelia. He misses home less now that he has Elizabeth to keep an eye on, and in some ways he looks forward to her weekly visits, though he knows the other officers mock him behind his back. On the other six days a week, therefore, he maintains the strictest dignity and discipline possible, feeling a need to prove himself to his fellow officers as a good sailor, not just a nursemaid.
"Papa," Elizabeth tells her father at home one evening shortly after their introduction, "that's the man I'm going to marry."
"Of course you will, darling," the Governor says, a bit distracted. It doesn't hurt to indulge her fancies; she'll probably forget all about it by tomorrow, anyway. She's only twelve, after all. She sets her lip stubbornly and stamps her foot.
"I'm serious, Papa." He kisses her forehead.
"I know, dear, I know. Now run along to bed, that's a good girl. There'll be plenty of time to think of marriage when you're older."
In her room, surveying the landscape of Port Royal from her window, Elizabeth knows better. She can feel that he was meant for her, even if he can't yet. And in her dreams, she and James make a raft out of the scraps of her skirts and sail till dawn.