PotC drabbles: Trajectory [Norrington, general]
Title: Trajectory Author: Zwarte Parel, aka celandineb Fandom: PotC Characters: Norrington Rating: general Summary: A sequence of seven drabbles encompassing James Norrington's life from youth to man. Written pre-DMC.
"You've had all the schooling that you'll need, James. William will enter the Church, and Thomas will inherit the estate. You're to go into the navy next month; I've had word and you'll join the Plover as a midshipman." Charles Norrington stared at his fifteen-year-old son, his mouth set in firm lines.
James knew there was no use in arguing with his father any further. The family lands were entailed and anyway not prosperous enough to support two idle sons. How unlike the tales his nurse told him as a child, where all the success went to the lucky third.
To begin with, he thought he would never get over the seasickness. Three days at sea and he had been unable to keep anything down but a few sips of water. The older lads laughed at him and told him to wait a month, when the bread would be wormy and the water brackish; now it was still fresh and they ate as if they were starving. James tried another bite, cautiously. His stomach lurched a bit, but at last it seemed as if the unruly organ would cooperate. He swallowed hard, keeping the coarse food down by sheer will.
James stamped his feet on the poop deck to try to warm them, and stuck his hands under his armpits.
Three years he had been at sea now, first on the Plover – good old Plover – and now the Telemachus. She was only a fifth-rater, but she would always hold a special place in his heart, for it was on her that he was first addressed as "Lieutenant Norrington." Captain Chalker had told him he would be transferred soon to the Essex; a step upward in ships but as the junior-most lieutenant he would have all the worst assignments, he knew.
It was all very well for his brother William to have married an heiress, and Miss Carteret sounded an excellent match and a fine woman to boot, but James wished that his father would not now encourage him to do likewise. How did Charles Norrington think his youngest son was going to meet a suitable prospect when eleven out of twelve months of the year he was at sea, and half that time in foreign parts with no Englishwomen about at all? James shook his head and stowed the letter below the copy of The Pilgrim's Progress he had lately obtained.
Having a woman on board was bad luck, the men said. Lieutenant James Norrington might not have had as much education as he would have liked, but he knew superstitious nonsense when he heard it. The daughter of the governor-to-be of Jamaica was a nuisance, with all her chatter and questions, but nothing more. He told off seaman Gibbs, the worst offender, several times for dallying and gossiping, finally assigning him to the night watch.
After the night when they rescued young Will Turner from the sea, however, James began to wonder if there was something to superstition after all.
He had not expected it, not so soon. To become a post captain at his age was unusual, and the governor had privately told him that he would be named commodore over the navy's ships at Port Royal within the year. With his salary and the reasonable expectation of prize money, James was in a position he had scarcely dared to think about; he could marry. He had not far to look, either, for the bothersome girl had grown up to be a fine and spirited young woman. As soon as he became commodore, he resolved, he would ask her.
It was perhaps the most difficult thing James had ever done. To let the blacksmith have Elizabeth, when he had loved her himself for years, when their marriage would be the culmination of all his and his family's hopes? And yet – he could not have done otherwise, not when she stood before him, protecting the pirates with her slender body, defying all good sense. He had once wished to choose his own future, and been denied it. Elizabeth should have her chance to fly free, and if like Icarus she flew too high, he would be prepared to save her.