WHO: James Norrington & Elizabeth Swann WHAT: A serious talk WHEN: Sunday WARNINGS: None STATUS: Closed | Complete
James had finished modifying the boat that had been left behind. He had been pleased to find that it was rather well-done, so it hadn't needed much changed. He also found nets and a few fish hooks, both of which would help him catch fish to contribute to the community. James wanted to be helpful, after all.
The boat had been made big enough that it was a comfortable living space, with an outer deck and an inner cabin where he had set up a makeshift bed. James planned on making it his home. He would feel much more comfortable out on a boat than on dry land.
The boat was about 20 yards out from the shore, a long rope trying it to a tree trunk until he could find something to use as a suitable anchor. James was arranging the fishing nets when he spied Elizabeth on the shore and waved to her.
The two of them hadn't exactly been keeping their distance, but they hadn't spoken much either. For his part, James was keeping it light between them. She didn't know all that went on from her point until his death. It was still hard for him to process that she had even decided to come here.
He paused to watch her on the beach, not offering a direct invitation, but not having a problem if she wanted to come aboard.
Elizabeth hadn't precisely been looking for James, but she also wasn't opposed to finding him. She knew he had chosen to live on a boat; she didn't blame him at all. She thought she might be more comfortable on a boat herself. And she knew if she were to take a walk in that direction on the beach, she would probably run into him and his boat eventually. Which is exactly what she did.
It didn't take long before she spotted the boat, about 20 yards out from shore. Then she spotted him and she couldn't help but smile. Perhaps it was long past due for the two of them to talk. She waved back at him and then called out. "Mind if I come aboard?" she asked, her barefeet not quite at the water's edge yet. She wore trousers and a billowy shirt, clothes that she felt comfortable in and also didn't mind getting wet.
“Not at all,” James called back. “I can come in and get you.”
Without even waiting for a response, James stuck one of his oars into the water and began to push the boat closer to shore. He wanted to make sure she wouldn't have to swim out to him.
Elizabeth waved him off. "I haven't been in the sea in days," she called out. "I don't mind a swim." She smiled and started to wade out into the water. It felt so nice, so familiar. The water wasn't all that deep, even all the way out to the boat, though she made it to the boat in a few solid, smooth strokes.
She surfaced beside the boat and hauled herself on board. "The sun will dry me out," she said as her hair dripped and her clothes clung a little to her body. All right, a lot to her body. "You seem to have made yourself right at home here," she said. She raised her gaze up and smiled at him. "Hello, James."
James had just about stopped the boat by the time that Elizabeth was next to it. He reached out a hand to help her aboard, but again, she had accomplished her goal before he could even get to her. As usual, Elizabeth needed no help from him. James sighed softly.
He tried to keep his eyes on her face and not on her body, due to the fact that her wet clothing clung to her in an almost obscene way. It was incredibly impolite to stare, and doing so at her would just make him yearn for her in a way that he could not have her. “Hello,” he responded, a bit awkwardly. James turned away to clear some nets from a bench so that she might have a place to sit. “Have you been settling in well?”
With the back of her hand, she pushed her wet hair out of her eyes and then secured it down her back with a tie. "It's certainly different here," she said. "But I've gotten used to it, I suppose. How about you? This is a nice boat you've found here." Elizabeth slid a hand along the wood and sighed then took the offered bench and sat down. "Have you taking it out past the reef yet?" She glanced out over her shoulder off to the sea. This might not be the sea the two of them knew well, but it was still the sea. Still comfortable. Still home.
James nodded in agreement about it being different here. Very different. But much preferable to dying, or to living the life that he had been leading. At least here he didn’t have to worry about the Company or pirates or trying to redeem his sullied name.
He sat down next to her. “Thanks. I admit that most of the framework was done by a man named Finnick who is no longer here. I modified it, made it a bit larger.” James looked around the boat, then back towards the covered cabin at the stern. “I plan to live here,” he continued, “though I have not taken her out yet, not very far at least.” Part of him worried that he had messed up construction somehow and would drown if he went out too far.
"I'm sure it'll be more comfortable here than back on land," she said. She turned to face him, set a hand on his knee. "I haven't said it yet, James, but I'm glad you're here." Elizabeth was glad for it, even if she hadn't expected to know anyone. There was a part of her even that wondered if anything could come of them here, together. Her heart pounded at the thought, and she stemmed it down. Where had it even come from?
James froze, his eyes on her hand on his knee. She wasn’t usually so affectionate with him. He was beginning to hope that maybe there would be something for them here, even if it was only sex. He was a man and he could not deny that he wanted her in that way. It was probably completely foolish to think that way though and he tried to push his thoughts aside.
“Are you though?” He asked, ever the skeptic. “Or would you rather have not known a soul?” James imagined that would have been immensely easier for both of them.
She considered his question for a moment. "I didn't expect to know anyone here," she said. "That's true. But that doesn't mean I'm not pleased that you are." She looked at him, at the expression on his face, and pulled her hand back into her lap. "I hope you're not disappointed that I'm here."
“I'm not,” he said. “Simply surprised, because… I thought that you and Mr. Turner were quite in love.”
Perhaps he shouldn't bring up Will again, but James had no idea they had gone through a rough patch, apparently one so rough that a sex island seemed preferable.
Elizabeth frowned. "It might have been different if we'd married when we had planned to, instead of being forced to run away from the hangman's noose," she said honestly. A lot had happened since the day she and Will were supposed to get married. It wasn't that She loved him less; it was that she didn't know what that love meant for them.
It was unfortunate, maybe, that Will was a pirate, but Elizabeth was too and that was the life she had chosen. Granted, for a while, he had chosen it as well, if only so that he could get access to Davy Jones’s heart. “But coming here seems extreme. I mean, have you even…?” James stopped himself mid-sentence. Even on sex island it was probably rude to ask her if she was a virgin.
"Haven't I always tended toward the extreme?" she asked, tipping her head to the side. A smile made her mouth twitch, especially because she knew what he was going to ask her. She wasn't sure how to respond and then settled on the truth. "You know as well as I do, James, that what's proper and what isn't for unmarried ladies. And I'm still unmarried." Elizabeth shrugged. "The rules and etiquette are different here, so I don't imagine I'll remain a virgin -" There, she could say it even if he couldn't. "- for long."
James’s cheeks turned a bit red and he found himself looking at the floor of the boat. “Well. I hadn't known if you and Turner had…” he cleared his throat. “Anyway… that is.. what you want?”
There was a tiny piece inside of him that hoped it would be him, that she would at least want someone comfortable for her first time. He knew that was silly though, and possibly also unwise. James had feelings for her, more than simply wanting to sleep with her.
She wasn't sure she'd ever seen James Norrington embarrassed or at a loss like this, except perhaps when he proposed. "Would I be here, where it's encouraged, if I didn't want it?" she asked, turning the question right back at him.
A moment, and then - "James, a lot has happened in my life. In yours, over the last few years. I just want to relax here, now. Don't you? Isn't that what you want too?"
“It is,” he confirmed. Truthfully if he had been asked, even if he hadn't been dying, he most likely would have said yes. He'd have to have been crazy not to. “Everything seems much less complicated here.” It was much easier here to simply live and not have to worry about the responsibilities and expectations that were placed on his shoulders.
Elizabeth nodded. She definitely agreed with that. It was possible that some people might have looked at the life she chose - the life of a pirate - and assumed that it was uncomplicated and lacking responsibility, but that simply wasn't true. It was only a different sort of complication and responsibility. "Even with me here?" She asked quietly.
He was quiet for a long moment, debating how to answer that. “You know how I feel about you, Elizabeth,” he said. “But I am not… expecting anything.” Wanting it, perhaps, but not expecting it. He still felt that their destinies weren't intertwined. And yet, they were here together. What could that be other than divine intervention?
"But you want something?" she asked a moment later, her lips pursed together. Elizabeth leaned in a little bit, just a little, toward him. "Even if you aren't expecting it, you're at least hopeful, yes?" Why was she pushing it? She didn't know. She had this pull toward him. She had always cared for him. She knew that. But there was Will, and her pull to the sea, and - Elizabeth sat back.
James glared at her. “I would never be so crass,” he scoffed. Mostly he was annoyed that she had seen right through him, but then men could be rather transparent creatures. He gave a soft sigh. “Why are you asking this, Elizabeth? Are you trying to humiliate me?”
She was slightly taken aback at that. "Humiliate you? No, James why would you even think such a thing?" Elizabeth frowned. She rubbed the side of her neck. She shook her head. "James, I'm only trying to be up front about this. The people I've spoken to since arriving have all suggested that these conversations are good to have, so there's no miscommunication or misunderstanding."
“You don't think your rejection was a humiliation?” Because it absolutely was, even if she had been polite about it and he had conceded gracefully. That was why he had left Port Royal in the first place. He couldn't bear the whispering any longer.
James ran a hand over his face. Fine. “If it was what you wanted, then yes.” Only an idiot wouldn't sleep with a beautiful, willing woman. He simply prayed that if he did he would be able to separate his feelings from the pleasure of the act itself.
That silenced her for a moment. "I apologize, James," Elizabeth said. "If I'm going to make you uncomfortable, we can decide to keep our distance," she continued, not wanting to make this any worse for him.
She stood up and rubbed her hands on her thighs. "But if it does make any difference, with you here, there's no one else I trust more in this situation."
James glanced up at her. “I wouldn't want you to keep your distance,” he said truthfully. He liked her, always would, even simply as a person, as a friend. “Do you mean… this situation as in simply being here?”
Or the situation of whom she would sleep with first? He had to admit that he would be so happy to be her first, to be with her in that way.
She smiled in relief. "That's good," she said. "I wouldn't want to keep my distance honestly. I'm glad that you're here." Her cheeks flushed a little bit.
"To be frank, James, I mean sex." How odd it was to be so crass about it like that, to just say the word out loud.
Dear God. He couldn’t even look at her. He was sure that his cheeks were a bright red. “So. To be clear. You mean to say that you would trust me with your first sexual experience here?” James wanted to be sure that they were absolutely on the same page. If he’d misunderstood and just spoken out of turn, he would be completely mortified.
She chewed on the corner of her mouth, drawing her lip in between her teeth. A moment later, she nodded. "Yes," Elizabeth said. "That's what I'm saying, James." Would she be upset if he didn't want to do that? Probably, a little bit. But she would understand. She rejected him, humiliated him. It would be perfectly acceptable if he wasn't interested in that kind of moment with her.
He had so many questions. Chief among them was why, though he supposed that asking wouldn’t put him in a very good light. When did she want to do this? Did she mean now? Was he just supposed to start?
“Well. I.. um.. Would not be opposed to that. You are a beautiful woman, Elizabeth.” And he was a red-blooded male who was very attracted to her. James finally felt brave enough to look over at her. “I suppose we should.. I mean.. Perhaps we ought to let it happen naturally.”
She flushed, though she hoped it would be masked by the brightness of the sunlight. "Of course," she said firmly. "We're friends already, so we'll just continue as such and see where it might go." But she wet her lips a bit and took a deep breath. "I - should go though, now," Elizabeth said. "I don't want to overstay my welcome.
“Right.” He said shortly. “Well. Ah. I’m glad you stopped by. You’re always welcome to stop by.” James would have to get it together. He wanted to be smooth when they finally were ready to be intimate, not sound like a bumbling fool. There were a lot of beautiful women on the island, but Elizabeth was the only one who made him trip over his words.
Elizabeth nodded and took a moment to glance around the boat. "I will definitely stop by," she said. "I'm going to miss living on a boat too much to turn down that offer." Elizabeth smiled and then turned to go. A moment later, she turned back to him. "Thank you, James," she said softly. She squeezed his arm and leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“Maybe you can live-” He cut himself off just in time. “-On your own boat. I can perhaps help you put one together.” Barely a save there. Honestly, he would be less nervous about having her share the boat than sleeping with her. James closed his eyes when she kissed his cheek, savoring it for a moment. He reached for her hand and squeezed it before she left.
She let her hand stay in his for longer than she probably needed to. "If I decide to go the boat route," Elizabeth said, "I'll be sure to seek out your help. I don't know if I'd be any use at all building one from the ground up. I just know how to sail them." Her eyes danced a bit while talking about sailing, in much the same way she figured his did.
He saw the look in her eye and smiled. At least they both had a love for the sea. “I've been on them so much and done so many repairs that I can cobble something together at least. Have a good day, Elizabeth.” James would offer to bring the boat closer to shore for her, but he presumed that was futile.
"You as well, James," she said. Elizabeth stepped back over to the edge of the boat and climbed over the edge so that she sat there for a moment. She turned and smiled at him over her shoulder before dropping easily into the water. After surfacing a few feet away from the boat, she swam back to shore.