PRINCIPLES OF COMPROMISE
Oh, I am halfway through my college career right now. How exciting is that? I know it may sem an impossibility, but I am going to try to finish this entire story before I leave for my summer job at my old church camp as a counselor here on May 29th. I'm determined to meet this challenge. I've kept you all waiting far to long! Thanks to all the previous reviewers, and thanks so much for your patience. It's what keeps me humble and writing. - Dis/Claimer – . Chapter Sixteen . Elizabeth was granted a few hours rest from her emotional exhaustion, her frail body having a chance to recover from her overexertion. Her words were spoken through mumbles and wordless glances for the duration of the next day. Governor Swann was concerned and cautious, skirting around her solemn behavior as painlessly as possible, believing its source to be William’s absence. Norrington noticed as well when he joined them for tea amidst the ceremony’s preparations in the afternoon. She did not even spare him a glance until he already felt at fault for her current unhappiness. When Governor Swann excused himself, James sat his tea down, repositioning himself in the chair towards her more. “Am I the cause of your upset?” he asked directly, unable to go on much longer not knowing. It was obvious she had spent a night in hell, and it hurt him to see her hiding within the delicate framework of her body and the mint-colored gown that dressed it. Elizabeth looked over at him finally, watching as he examined the slight puff of her eyes. She swallowed, averting her hers to the ground. “No,” she said, and he thought the word lovely. Elizabeth spoke softly, “It is another matter… that unfairly encompasses our existences.” James looked up, meeting her restricted face in question. She was trying to tell him something. Something that could not be said now in any other way but riddles. Compelled to get as much information as possible from her, he somberly asked, “Does it endanger them as well?” “Danger?” Governor Swann’s boisterous laugh returned to their company. “A topic no less curious to discuss! Something more good-humored, perhaps.” Elizabeth cast James a sideways glance, if not giving him the answer to his question then promising she would. x x x “We’re pirates.” Barbossa, Gibbs, Marty, and Mr. Cotton stared back at Jack befuddled while Margaret simply took a large step aside from them, intently stitching a patch on a pant leg. “They’re pirates,” she corrected without looking up from her work. Jack made a face at her dissociation as superior in right, looking back over at those who did not seem demeaned by their categorization, but rather, put off. “So?” Gibbs half-laughed. “Ain’t that always the case?” “Apparently,” Barbossa muttered. “Will got skewered for it, Beckett thought I was the last he had to tend to, and suddenly he’s off about Miss Swann and the bloody Commodore having potentially traitorous ambitions in ‘em. Which, I completely see where he’s coming from since I can never see where they’re coming from.” “Blood thirsty bastard’s all he is,” Barbossa said, walking over to the window to examine the late afternoon activity on the docks. “We got to get out of here as soon as possible, Jack. We can’t wait around for a trial. Pirates don’t have trials,” he tried to explain for the umpteenth time. “It’s a trap.” “Well I’d say he’s mighty upset with his own trap not catching anything,” Jack replied, joining Barbossa at the window. “He didn’t intend on this. Not one of us did. And if you leave, you leave my ship with me. Though it’d be right rotten to leave me to defend myself in trial, Stan.” He looked to Gibbs. “Brutus.” Gibbs exchanged a wry face with Marty, Margaret now between them still stitching. “I’m gonna have to agree with Hector, as much as I’d like not to,” Gibbs said. “No offense.” Barbossa smiled curtly. “We have to go soon,” Marty stressed. Jack threw his arms out to the side. “What’s the big hurry? No one’s allowed to hurt you here. Judge’s orders. Beckett wouldn’t risk it with a promotion at hand.” The shoulders of his first mate deflated, and Barbossa kept a stony face. Jack continued, “Three more days, gentlemen. That’s all I need.” “And this,” Margaret said, walking up to him and extending his repaired coat to him. “About time,” he remarked, slipping on the coat immediately. Margaret’s eyes grew dark as a fist attached itself to her hip, and Jack softened his face after a quick wrinkle of his nose. “Thank you, Miss Black.” To his surprise, she went back over to the table to start another altercation instead of giving him a sound smack. “You’re welcome, Captain.” x x x The foyer was a soft-glowing piece of an enchanted heaven, ivories and golds lavished in beautiful white candlelight. Elizabeth had never seen her own home transformed into such unrecognizable splendor, and she had never acknowledged just how handsome James looked outside of the naval attire; his uniform for the evening was a sharp, heightening crimson with suspiciously identical ivory and gold accents found on Elizabeth’s gown. Before their entrance at the top of the stairway, it prompted a lopsided grin and a quip about their maids conspiring for this. “You should wear it more often,” Mrs. Duvall, one of their many guests commented. Elizabeth smirked at Norrington’s tight shoulders as she went on. “It’s a flattering color. The blue is strapping, but it’s uniform.” “With all due respect, madam, I am quite partial to the uniform.” “Oh, we know,” she laughed, patting his arm. “Commitment to duty – it’s gotten you where you are today. The only man I’ve never seen so much as slouch!” Elizabeth had to look away. He grin was far too wide. “Thank you, Mrs. Duvall. It was a pleasure speaking with you, but I believe just before you came over, Elizabeth had something pressing to discuss with me.” The large woman smiled so much that he eyes pinched shut. “Oh, no matter. I’ll let you get back to that then. My congratulations to the both of you. Good evening.” “Good evening,” Norrington deadpanned, watching her go cautiously. From beside him, Elizabeth brought her hand to her mouth, her smile growing beneath it when he looked at her. “The only man I’ve never seen so much as slouch!” He stifled his laughter with a wide grin. “I don’t slouch. It’s absolutely unacceptable.” “Absolutely.” Elizabeth straightened her back, measuring up to him. He smiled again before allowing it to fade out, turning to her. “Putting that matter aside, what was it you were telling me about Lord Beckett before Mrs. Duvall came over?” The jovial light in her eyes dimmed. She touched his elbow, drawing closer in a hushed tone. “He is not just after Jack.” “What do you mean?” “This is going to sound absurd, but I heard him say it myself yesterday night,” she murmured, saying yet another silent prayer that he wouldn’t just cast her words aside as paranoia. Her eyes played into his with desperation, a plea. “He’s… He wants you and I persecuted as well.” Norrington’s eyes drifted to the floor beside her, something she had feared. “Think about it,” she pressed, “we were pirates. He’s afraid we will help Jack if we’re not already.” Norrington felt a tightness grip his chest. Anxiety befell his face. “Elizabeth, please assure me; I know you have defended him-“ “James-“ “Beckett is a dangerous man. I do not want him to harm you,” he said, the desperation in his voice something Elizabeth believed she would never grow used to. He captured her eyes, and she saw in them, unmistakably, fear. “If you are at still in communication with Sparrow, I bid you stop at once for your own safety.” She nodded slowly, unable to stay locked in his gaze. He examined her softly, taking her weathered hand in his own in her silence. “You look so beautiful, Elizabeth.” “Indeed you do, Miss Swann.” Elizabeth felt her spine tingle as she and James turned, Lord Beckett bending slightly before them with a modest grin. He held up his wine glass, suddenly tapping it with a fork. James felt Elizabeth’s arm constrict around his own as the room fell silent, beaming at them as they held up their glasses. “Although there has already been a marvelous blessing by our Lord Governor, I could not go through this impeccable event without saying a few words of my own,” he announced brightly, Governor Swann returning his nod as some of the servants handed out drinks to those who were without. Estrella approached Lord Beckett with a platter that held two empty glasses and a long-necked bottle, and Elizabeth watched as he poured and continued his speech. “There are many duties one is responsible for when he is in charge of a fine establishment such as Port Royal. The Governor and I must tend to clerical issues, dock management, shipping imports, the dispensing of justice to ensure the safety of our wives and our children,” he said, smiling between Governor Swann and Elizabeth. Elizabeth blinked at the crown with a ghost of a smile. And her stomach dropped. There, shuffling in from the shadowed corner near the entrance to the kitchens, was Barbossa, a young woman, Gibbs, and Jack. “We grieve immensely when we see our children hurt. When their hearts are ravaged by upset and their hopes are dashed by cruel injustice.” Elizabeth glanced up at Norrington, but he had not noticed them, much to her relief. “The tragedy of the blacksmith William Turner’s death has shaken this port, and it has been my most horrific responsibility to bear in overseeing the incident.” What are you doing? her thoughts practically screamed at Jack. He’s going to kill you when he sees you! “However, never more have I enjoyed the instances such as this, where a happy occasion is celebrated after reborn from such a harrowing event.” Beckett took the wine glasses from the platter in Estrella’s hands, handing them to Norrington and Elizabeth. She took it, trying her hardest not to look over at her unexpected intruders. The moment Beckett returned to his speech and she looked however, Jack was missing. Good Lord. “And so, we celebrate today that rebirth – the splendid engagement of our very own Commodore James Norrington and Miss Elizabeth Swann.” A small round of applause played background music to Elizabeth’s frantic thoughts of Jack’s whereabouts. James cast her a sideways look, stiffening his arm to regain her attention. Beckett raised his glass, and the rest of the room followed suit. “And of course, a happy birthday to you, Miss Swann.” Oh, where was he! “Happy Birthday,” the room chorused, together sipping from their glasses. Norrington brought the rim of the glass to his lips, but he lowered it upon seeing Elizabeth take a very generous gulp. As the room dispersed and the chatter rose again, Beckett smiled at the couple of the hour. “Commodore, I believe the Admiral wanted a brief word.” He looked to Elizabeth. “He shouldn’t be but a moment.” “Can it wait, sir?” James asked, his concern for Elizabeth quite plainly written on his face. “Elizabeth, perhaps you should sit. You look flush.” “I’m afraid it cannot,” Beckett said. “If you’d like, I can see her to the sitting room.” “I’m fine,” she lied, her nerves quite alive. Norrington nodded reluctantly. “Right. I won’t be long.” So long as this man was as far away from Elizabeth as possible, he was fine. “Lord Beckett, could you show me to the Admiral?” “Of course,” he said, leading Norrington away. “It is a thick crowd.” Elizabeth felt vulnerability soar; she even thought she should have went with Norrington to be certain Lord Beckett wasn’t steering him out of view of the guests to do something dreadful to him. However, there was a matter to tend to. x x x “Congratulations again, Commodore.” “Thank you, Admiral. Good evening.” Beckett inclined his head to the Admiral as well, repeating Norrington’s regards before following him back towards Elizabeth on the other side of the house. Norrington wished to get back to her as soon as possible. No telling where that clerk of his might be, he though as Beckett swallowed the bottom of the glass. “Hmm, I need a fresh drink. Would you care for-? Oh. It looks as if you haven’t even touched the one in you your hand,” Beckett observed, pausing. Norrington looked down at the stagnant pool of burgundy, just now remembering its presence. “Yes. Hardly.” “Well get to it, man,” Beckett smiled. “You’re engaged after all.” “Yes, and I will be returning to my fiancé.” “Very well.” Norrington took no time in leaving Lord Beckett with another fine glass of imported wine, meandering through the guests as their volume of speech and laughter began to rise. He looked into the glass again, his rippling silhouette reflected in the untouched liquid. Then, just as he was going to raise the glass to take his first sip, his glass collided with the soft blue body of a gown, upsetting the entire contents of it. Horrified as the woman shrieked, he caught the glass before it could shatter to the floor, pressing it against his wine-stained abdomen with a relived sigh. However, his face fell at the sight of the young woman’s dress. The lovely blue bodice and skirt had incurred the majority of the spill with wine streaks flowing freely to the hem of the dress and dripping on the floor. Her slender hands touched the largest spot on her bodice as if it were a wound. “Oh. Oh, dear.” “Heavens, forgive me,” Norrington said immediately, wishing he has a kerchief to hand her. He blinked, floundering so that he didn’t know what to say. “Madam, I am exceedingly sorry.” To his surprise, the woman smiled, procuring her own kerchief and dabbing the top of her skirts. “All is forgiven,” she laughed. “And it’s ‘Miss.’” Norrington swallowed. “Miss-?” “Black. Margaret. And you are Commodore Norrington, correct?” “Yes, I… Oh please,” he said, guiding her out of the way of a passing group against the wall. “May I get you some water for that? Perhaps it will help.” “No,” she insisted, “I believe it has met its end. It had a good run, though.” Norrington could tell from the other dresses around them that it was not the most lavished, yet more than likely the best that she owned. He wet his lips. “Miss Black, I would like to repay you for the dress.” At her silence, he continued quickly, “I am on all accounts responsible for its ruin. Please.” “There is no need,” she smiled. “I can make another.” “The time and effort is too much.” “Sir, I am a seamstress. I would have to make it anyway.” “Oh. Then, let me reimburse you for the supplies. And your kerchief.” Margaret’s amusement grew with her smile. “I have another kerchief,” she assured him. “Just promise not to stare at your wine when you walk anymore so that others might be spared this terrible fate. That way I don’t have sew as many new garments due to irreversible damage from wine stains.” He nodded, trying not to laugh and appear ignorant of his misconduct. “Are you sure there is nothing I can do?” “Yes, Commodore,” she said, turning to go. “Thank you for your gallantry. And the interesting memoir of the evening.” Norrington opened his mouth to apologize again, but decided against it in a bout of guilt. He looked down at the empty glass, a much smaller single stain on his white shirt. With a sigh, he sought out the washroom. x x x Elizabeth eventually found them; she caught the eye of Gibbs and Barbossa across the room, lifted her skirt from the floor, and calmly marched toward them. Barbossa pursed his lips, imploring her not to make a scene or even acknowledge them, oh, but she was- She stopped in her tracks, none other than Jack stepping right in front of her. “Ah, Miss Swann.” Her mouth fell open as he smoothly took her in hand and guided her waist to him, right into a gentle sway on the outskirts of the dancing couples. She turned her head to the side, uncomfortable with the closeness of his rum-scented face. He grinned. “Sorry for the close proximity, darling, but you invite far too many guests to these fêtes of yours.” “What are you doing here? What if Beckett had seen you? You’re going to get killed right here.” “Why? I’m rather enjoying this invincibility policy set by the judge.” “You’re not allowed on the premises of the Governor’s household without permission from my father or Lord Beckett,” she whispered urgently. “And seeing as the circumstances are not these, you need to leave. Norrington will be back any moment now.” Jack smirked through his feigned pout. “Ah, to hell with the Commodore. I had a very nice seamstress mend my coat so I could look my best for when I came to extend my most happy congratulations to you, and you only care about being smitten with the Commodore.” “He knows,” she informed him abruptly. Jack rolled his eyes as she said, “I told him about Beckett seeking us out, and he’s suspicious.” “Us as in you and I?” “No, as in he and I. He thinks I need to stop talking with you if I am, that Beckett will do as he says if I put myself in that danger.” “And let me take the educated guess that you agree whole-heartedly.” Her shoulders fell somewhat. “Jack, it’s three days to the trial. You’ll be fine.” “But will you?” he countered darkly, feeling her shift away from him discreetly. “You didn’t seem all that well last night.” “The distance will protect us all,” she said, trying to ignore the pang of hurt she was again experiencing from the night before at the church. She still held unexplainable hate towards him for it; perhaps if they had never met, none of this would have happened. She’d be engaged to marry the Commodore, yes, but Will would be alive. She looked up at him with a stony face, though Jack would define it more as marble. “Name your terms, Miss Swann.” “You leave. You stay on your ship, and I’ll stay in my room. The night before the trial I’ll find a way to you, but I can’t promise more.” “Can you even promise that?” “I can.” “Right,” he said, surprised at her confidence. “We have an ac-“ “YOU!” Elizabeth had leapt from Jack’s arms before she even looked up. Beckett’s fury was visible even from the opposite side of the foyer. The stunned guests began screaming as they realized the pirate in their presence. “GET HIM!” Elizabeth stared at Jack, a gleam in his eye formulating that she read clearly enough; he was about to grab her to make his escape when three soldiers suddenly pinned him to the floor, causing her to scream. “Elizabeth!” Norrington suddenly pulled her against his body as one of the men punched Jack repeatedly, his face ultimately lying still on the cold floor. “Stop it!” she yelled, fighting from Norrington’s grasp in futility. “Stop!” Before she could think straight, Beckett and her father were there as he was put in chains by more guards and ripped from the floor. A steady stream of blood rolled from his bloodied jaw to the floor, and she looked over at Lord Beckett near tears. He turned from her pitiful face, staring down his opposition menacingly. “Take him away!” Elizabeth lost her breath at the order and watched helplessly as they dragged Jack out of the main entrance of the house roughly, the fragmented line of blood marking their trail. She clung to Norrington, knowing he was all that was keeping her on her feet. Beckett finally looked back at her with a casual remark. “Oh now you didn’t tell him to come here, did you?” “No!” He harrumphed, passing Governor Swann and the astonished faces of the guests as he followed after them, walking directly along the line of blood. “Being clever and cunning is obviously not the same as intelligent. Guests, you are dismissed. Good evening to you all.” . Please Review .
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