[Fic] Little Wooden Ship
Title: Little Wooden Ship
Author: Shytan
Rating: G
Characters: Cutler Beckett, James Norrington
Summary: Young James meets a strange little boy with a little wooden ship.
Warnings: -
Notes: This was originally going somewhere else (guess who 'the Sea' is!) but for some reason didn't go anywhere interesting. Sorry :|
Part 1
Royal blue brocade under a dark blue coat, framing dark blue breeches and shiny black boots. Clear blue eyes in a porcelain face framed by soft brown curls. Little white stockings matched an intricately tied cravat that wound its way around a peachy neck, ending with an oversized bow at the back. Chubby little hands extended from the frilly cuffs of a white shirt, the tiny fingers systematically exploring the smooth surfaces of a model ship.
Confronted with the sight before him, James Norrington momentarily forgot that it was rude to stare, until his father gave him a harsh nudge on the shoulder.
"Father?" James asked quietly, looking up at the tall Naval officer.
"Why don't you go and play with Lord Beckett's son," the senior Norrington suggested, frowning down at his only son.
"He's... weird," James pouted, glancing back at the little boy sitting on the rug with his toy ship.
"Go and play with him. Now," Norrington commanded, shoving him towards the Lord's son. "And mind your manners!"
James straightened himself up briefly before approaching the much smaller child. James was the tallest boy in his grade at school, a possibly had a few years on the Beckett boy, but he didn't really know. Fidgeting with his own outfit, thankfully much lighter and more casual, James sat down beside Cutler Beckett.
"Hello," James greeted him cautiously, cocking his head to the side as he took in the boy's features once more.
Cutler ignored him for a moment, then returned the greeting without bothering to shift his gaze from the model in his hands. "Hello."
"I'm James," James was unsure if Cutler remembered their earlier introduction.
"I know," Cutler replied, his voice soft as ever. He looked for all the world like a little ragdoll, dressed up far too much for a boy his size. Or perhaps he was more like the little china figurines that sat behind the glass doors of his father's cabinet, elegant little creatures his mother had received as gifts.
Part 2
"That's a nice ship you have there." Mildly annoyed that Cutler was more or less ignoring him, James tried to generate a conversation that might interest the other boy.
"I know," Cutler repeated, continuing to turn it over in his hands, fingers gently stroking the sails and running down the tiny cylindrical mast.
"Where did you get it?" James made another attempt.
"It's mine," Cutler replied, his answer not aligning with the question terribly well.
"Yes, but who gave it to you?" James asked.
"The sea," Cutler responded.
James wasn't quite sure what to make of Cutler's answers. It was hard to tell if the boy was fooling around with him, as he seemed quite sincere in his answers. He was old enough to not believe in fairytales either, so if somebody had told him the toy was from the sea then surely he understood it was just a fictional tale?
"What's the name of your ship?" James settled for dropping his previous line of questioning, as it had yielded no comprehensible answers, nor had it prompted the boy to look at him.
"Endeavour," Cutler swung the model around as he continued to play with it, and James could just make out the tiny yellow lettering that announced the ship's name.
"It's very well crafted," James commented. Such tiny letters!
"I shall sail it one day," Cutler told him.
Part 3
"That's a nice ship you have there."
Lord Beckett did not turn when the Naval officer walked up behind him, continuing to gaze at the polished wooden surface of the grand flagship before him.
"I know," Cutler replied, his voice stronger in adulthood, and his soft curly hair hidden beneath a military style wig, but the rest of his features were just as James remembered them. Pale round face, clear blue eyes, dark brocade beneath heavy coat, shiny black boots, frilly white cuffs, formal white cravat... a little white china ragdoll, drowning in finery. He had not grown to be a tall man, whereas James had continued upon his path towards standing at an admirable height. James had outgrown his lankiness, and was now a handsome man, while Cutler retained his childish face and plump little fingers. Watching the Lord gaze at the magnificent vessel before them, refusing to look at James sent the Admiral reeling back into his memories. He was a little boy once more, sitting cross-legged on the rug with the strange boy and his model ship.
"Where did you get it?" James heard himself ask, surprised that this memory was still so clear in his mind.
"It's mine," Cutler replied a little more softly. Perhaps he too was remembering.
"Yes, but who gave it to you?" James continued to repeat their conversation from a lifetime ago.
Cutler Beckett turned to look directly at James. "The sea."
A strange sense of the uncanny washed over the Admiral, and he didn't know what to say.
Author: Shytan
Rating: G
Characters: Cutler Beckett, James Norrington
Summary: Young James meets a strange little boy with a little wooden ship.
Warnings: -
Notes: This was originally going somewhere else (guess who 'the Sea' is!) but for some reason didn't go anywhere interesting. Sorry :|
Part 1
Royal blue brocade under a dark blue coat, framing dark blue breeches and shiny black boots. Clear blue eyes in a porcelain face framed by soft brown curls. Little white stockings matched an intricately tied cravat that wound its way around a peachy neck, ending with an oversized bow at the back. Chubby little hands extended from the frilly cuffs of a white shirt, the tiny fingers systematically exploring the smooth surfaces of a model ship.
Confronted with the sight before him, James Norrington momentarily forgot that it was rude to stare, until his father gave him a harsh nudge on the shoulder.
"Father?" James asked quietly, looking up at the tall Naval officer.
"Why don't you go and play with Lord Beckett's son," the senior Norrington suggested, frowning down at his only son.
"He's... weird," James pouted, glancing back at the little boy sitting on the rug with his toy ship.
"Go and play with him. Now," Norrington commanded, shoving him towards the Lord's son. "And mind your manners!"
James straightened himself up briefly before approaching the much smaller child. James was the tallest boy in his grade at school, a possibly had a few years on the Beckett boy, but he didn't really know. Fidgeting with his own outfit, thankfully much lighter and more casual, James sat down beside Cutler Beckett.
"Hello," James greeted him cautiously, cocking his head to the side as he took in the boy's features once more.
Cutler ignored him for a moment, then returned the greeting without bothering to shift his gaze from the model in his hands. "Hello."
"I'm James," James was unsure if Cutler remembered their earlier introduction.
"I know," Cutler replied, his voice soft as ever. He looked for all the world like a little ragdoll, dressed up far too much for a boy his size. Or perhaps he was more like the little china figurines that sat behind the glass doors of his father's cabinet, elegant little creatures his mother had received as gifts.
Part 2
"That's a nice ship you have there." Mildly annoyed that Cutler was more or less ignoring him, James tried to generate a conversation that might interest the other boy.
"I know," Cutler repeated, continuing to turn it over in his hands, fingers gently stroking the sails and running down the tiny cylindrical mast.
"Where did you get it?" James made another attempt.
"It's mine," Cutler replied, his answer not aligning with the question terribly well.
"Yes, but who gave it to you?" James asked.
"The sea," Cutler responded.
James wasn't quite sure what to make of Cutler's answers. It was hard to tell if the boy was fooling around with him, as he seemed quite sincere in his answers. He was old enough to not believe in fairytales either, so if somebody had told him the toy was from the sea then surely he understood it was just a fictional tale?
"What's the name of your ship?" James settled for dropping his previous line of questioning, as it had yielded no comprehensible answers, nor had it prompted the boy to look at him.
"Endeavour," Cutler swung the model around as he continued to play with it, and James could just make out the tiny yellow lettering that announced the ship's name.
"It's very well crafted," James commented. Such tiny letters!
"I shall sail it one day," Cutler told him.
Part 3
"That's a nice ship you have there."
Lord Beckett did not turn when the Naval officer walked up behind him, continuing to gaze at the polished wooden surface of the grand flagship before him.
"I know," Cutler replied, his voice stronger in adulthood, and his soft curly hair hidden beneath a military style wig, but the rest of his features were just as James remembered them. Pale round face, clear blue eyes, dark brocade beneath heavy coat, shiny black boots, frilly white cuffs, formal white cravat... a little white china ragdoll, drowning in finery. He had not grown to be a tall man, whereas James had continued upon his path towards standing at an admirable height. James had outgrown his lankiness, and was now a handsome man, while Cutler retained his childish face and plump little fingers. Watching the Lord gaze at the magnificent vessel before them, refusing to look at James sent the Admiral reeling back into his memories. He was a little boy once more, sitting cross-legged on the rug with the strange boy and his model ship.
"Where did you get it?" James heard himself ask, surprised that this memory was still so clear in his mind.
"It's mine," Cutler replied a little more softly. Perhaps he too was remembering.
"Yes, but who gave it to you?" James continued to repeat their conversation from a lifetime ago.
Cutler Beckett turned to look directly at James. "The sea."
A strange sense of the uncanny washed over the Admiral, and he didn't know what to say.