| Overall rating: R Genre: slash, hint of het Pairings: Norrington/Gillette, Norrington/Elizabeth Other characters: Norrington, Gillette (heh!) Warnings: a wee bit of angst, sap Feedback: very welcome. Good or bad. Author's notes: there was really a Mr. Gillett serving on HMS Victory during the Battle of Trafalgar. A comment regarding this fact by Dauntless gave me the idea for this story. Cheers! Summary: "He could not see which way to go, if you did not twinkle so." It was cold and rainy outside, and Thomas could see the passers-by through the window of Captain Norrington's library. The ladies were anxious to keep the hems of their dresses out of the puddles, and the gentlemen enjoyed the sight of exposed ankles and, thanks to gusts of wind, nicely shaped calves in silk stockings. Thomas sat in a large leather armchair opposite Jamie's. The son of Captain James Norrington tapped his fingers impatiently on the armrest. It was a good thing Thomas could concentrate on more than one task; this allowed him to look out of the window, read a book and hold a conversation with his new friend at the same time. "What are you reading?" Jamie asked, shifting on his seat. "It's called 'Modern Chivalry: Containing the Adventures of Captain John Farrago and Teague O'Regan, His servant' by Hugh Henry Brackenridge." "Oh, I know that one. Boring. Father buys the oddest things. American he is, that Brackenridge chap. They know no bounds over there, not even when it comes to the titles of their books." Thomas shrugged. "It's very funny. Here we have an American with humour, so I'm hopeful that there are more." Jamie, whose ideas about the former colonies were rather conservative, decided to change the subject. He shifted again and groaned. "Damnation, I still can't sit on my arse. This house has turned into a bloody hospital! Your foot, father's knee and my arm. Three-legged cats, all of us." Thomas looked up from his book. "But at least you are here and can complain. Others were less fortunate." "You sound like my father. Are you sure they didn't mix us up when we were babies?" "Considering that you are four years older than I, it's not very likely." "True, that. And you look like the spitting image of your father. I suppose that helped mine greatly to identify you." "There weren't that many Gillettes at the hospital." They were treading on dangerous ground now. Jamie knew that he would have to talk about the battle and the way he had been injured if he asked Thomas for his time at the hospital. He wasn't ready to talk about this yet, neither about his fear nor his horror upon seeing Lt. Collins, who had been only one year his senior and a friend, being blown to pieces. "To think that my father rescued you, and yours rescued me! What might the odds of such a coincidence be, I wonder? It's almost unbelievable." Thomas closed his book and put it aside. "When we arrived, your doctor talked about a miracle. And I suppose that's what it is." "A miracle, yes. That's true." For a while the two young men sat in silence, though Thomas could tell by the frown on Jamie's face that he was raking his brain over something important. "Tom, have you ever enquired for the reason why your father fell out with mine?" he finally asked. "They must have been good friends, from all I know. What happened?" "I did ask once, but he didn't reply. It was obvious he didn't wish to discuss it, so I never approached him about it again. How about you? Did you ask?" "Talking to my father is like holding a conversation with a tongue-tied clam, and about as informative. He only said they had a disagreement, and that was it." "What is your opinion?" "I don't know. My father can be a very difficult man to get along with, I guess your father didn't feel comfortable serving under him anymore. What do you think?" Thomas blinked. "I think it was a matter of the heart." "A matter of the heart? Good grief, Tom! We're talking about our fathers here, the mere thought is disgusting! They are old!" He shuddered, and Thomas had to laugh. "They were young once as well. I think - I think they fell in love with the same lady. Maybe your mother? She's very beautiful and kind. They both courted her and then she chose your father, and mine couldn't stand it and left…" Thomas drifted off, lost in his fantasy of a tragic love affair. James laughed. "My mother said that your father used to hate her. He once told my grandfather that she needed a good spanking. Imagine!" "That sounds very much like my father. Well, then maybe it was another lady." "Maybe your mother?" Thomas quickly looked away. "No," was his brusque reply. "Your father would have never… it must have been somebody else." "Heh, probably. See, that's why I'd choose a good ship over a woman any time. You know what you get, you can't get cheated, and you'd very likely never fall out with your best friend." "I'm awestruck by your conclusions, Mr. Norrington, without a doubt based on many years of experience." Jamie threw a cushion after Thomas, who ducked and laughed. "Sarcastic git," Jamie said, and he would have poked his tongue out at Thomas if he hadn't felt too old for such behaviour. It was a good thing Thomas was here; he liked the midshipman, though he seemed to be far too serious for his age. He was good company, yet Jamie still felt terribly bored and useless. As much as he loved his parents and enjoyed everybody's attention, he was eager to return to his duties. "It's driving me insane to sit here all day, waiting for my bones to heal. Don't you long for the sea as well, Tom?" "Of course I do. The faster I can return to my duties, the quicker I can take my lieutenant's exam. Only one and a half years to go, but it seems to me like an eternity." Jamie snickered. "That's nothing compared to the exam itself, Tom. They will rake you over coals. That sure felt like an eternity to me, replying to all those questions and seeing them frown." "Thank you so much for your encouragement, Lt. Norrington." "You're very welcome, Midshipman Gillette. If they ask you to make and shorten sail, you can tell the captains of the examination board that you have no idea how it is done, but that you could recite a love poem." "Just you mock me, Jamie. I still think an unhappy love was the reason for their disagreement." Jamie steepled his fingers. "If that's the case I will find out. I'm like a truffle pig when it comes to disclosing secrets." "Just make sure you won't end up with an apple in your snout," Thomas replied, and reached for the book to continue his reading. * * * Elizabeth stood at the end of the dining-room table and eyed the decoration critically. The maid chewed her lip, worried that she might have forgotten something and would be reprimanded. Elizabeth was usually neither stern nor pedantic, but today was her 22nd wedding anniversary, and she wanted things to be perfect. She walked around the table and rearranged some flowers, refolded a napkin and was finally satisfied with the result. "Thank you, Alice. I'll call if you should be needed." Alice curtsied and returned to the kitchen, relief obvious on her face. "It looks perfect, dear. Just like you," Norrington commented. He was standing next to the fireplace, hands clasped behind his back, watching his wife's efforts with an amused smile. "You've never been a convincing liar," she replied, and winked at her husband. "We should have married in summer, then we could have a picnic. Just you and I, without those blatherskites and swanks. And I could definitely do without their wives, bunch of viperish, empty-headed old cats that they are." He laughed. "If you should feel tempted to chase the lot out of the house, be my guest. I'll gladly lend you my sword for that noble deed." "Don't tempt me, James. It would be a much-welcome diversion." Norrington looked at the portrait above the fireplace, which showed him and Elizabeth on their first wedding anniversary. A beautiful young woman with a whimsical smile, holding an infant. Behind her a not-so young and rather uptight-looking commodore. Elizabeth, who saw him looking at the painting, came to stand next to him and put her hand on his arm. "Jamie looks like a cherub on that painting, don't you agree?" "Yes, it's amazing. In truth he resembled a dried prune." "James!" "He's turned out fine, mind you. And I'm very glad that he has your spirit rather than mine. I'm afraid he'd bore all the lovely young ladies craving his attention out of his head otherwise." Elizabeth leaned her head on his shoulder. "You're not boring, James. You've never been. Just a bit - reserved." Norrington looked at her, his face suddenly quite serious. "Have you ever regretted it, Elizabeth? I mean, marrying me? She frowned. "That's a very odd question, James. Especially on this day." "This day or any other; I sometimes wonder. I wouldn't hold it against you, my dear. I'm just curious." Elizabeth tapped her index finger on her lips. "Regretted? No. No, I can honestly say that I haven't regretted my decision for a moment. But I admit that there have been times when I contemplated how my life would have been if I'd turned you down." "And you realised that being the wife of a blacksmith with twelve children would not have been your idea of an ideal life." "James, he only has ten children, and his wife looks happy enough." "My apologies, my dear." Elizabeth shook her head. "It seems to be your intention to celebrate this anniversary with an interrogation, James. I can't say I'm surprised, I've expected something in this direction." Norrington arched his eyebrows. "You did? Actually, no, it's not my intention to interrogate you, Elizabeth. Not at all. I was just thinking." "Of Thomas Gillette?" "Elizabeth!" She sat down in one of the armchairs next to the fireplace and stared into the flames. "James, we're married for twenty-two years today. Do you really think me to be so blind?" "I have no idea what you're talking about." "I'm talking about choices, James. You asked me if I ever regretted that I accepted your proposal. How about you? Any regrets?" "I really can't see what..." he began, but Elizabeth cut him off. "I wouldn't hold it against you either, James. But I'm curious. Did you regret it?" "No," Norrington said firmly. "Never." "But you did wonder at times what it would have been like if..." "Elizabeth, please. We really shouldn't hold such a conversation on this day. This or any other, as for that." "Ah, the return of the commodore. You've been like that back then, James. Always reserved, never revealing your feelings. You hinted, I had to guess. We could have both spared ourselves a lot of grief if you'd only once told me that you loved me." "A blind could have seen that I loved you!" "I'd have preferred it if you'd told me." "Elizabeth, I'm sorry. I know I haven't been the man you were dreaming off, and I'm well aware that it hasn't been easy for you to live with me. But I hope you never doubted my feelings, for they were and still are sincere." "I know they are. As sincere as the ones you hold for dear Mr. Gillette." His hand grasped to the mantle of the fireplace for support. "Elizabeth..." She looked up to him. "We are so much alike, James. Has this never occurred to you? We both had to make a decision, and we both chose the option that allowed us to love and be loved without ending on the gallows. Can we be blamed for this? I don't think so." Norrington limped to the armchair next to her and sat down. He took her hand, and she smiled at him, caressing his knuckles with her thumb. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. "Elizabeth, dearest Elizabeth; what can I say? What do you want me to do?" "My father wrote that he would come to visit us. He wishes to spend some time with Jamie while he's still here and recovering. He will keep me company, so you could spend some days at our cottage and recover from your injuries. I suggest you'll take a friend along - you could talk about old times." He stared at her in complete bewilderment. "Elizabeth! Are you aware what you are suggesting here? He looked in her face for a sign of sarcasm or wickedness, but all he could find was understanding and a loving smile. The cheerful, pretty girl he had married had grow into a beautiful, mature woman, and he felt privileged that he had been allowed to accompany her on her way. Norrington cleared his throat. "I - well. This is - twenty-two years, and you still manage to surprise me, Elizabeth." "That's what keeps a marriage happy," she said, and kissed him. * * * back next chapter |
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| LOST AND FOUND 2/3 by Molly Joyful |