the Dalaverse

I think I broke my writers block. But shhh, I don't want to scare the muses away.

Some Elizabeth/Norrington in this portion. Also lines lifted wholesale from "Buffy" (couldn't resist, mate).



Nothing New Under the Sun (IX)



“Oh for God’s sake, Will, quit pouting. You know as well as I that this’s the best thing we can do.”

Standing beside Jack in front of Commodore Norrington’s home, Will shuffled his feet and shot the captain a glare. “Perhaps, but I don’t have to enjoy being shunted aside like so much rotted fruit.”

“Rotted –” Jack sighed and knocked again. No use arguing with the boy when he was sulking. Shame – he’d been in such a good mood lately, cheerful and friendly. But the moment Jack had brought up the idea of seeking shelter in Port Royal strictly on a temporary basis, thunderheads had gathered in Will’s brown eyes. He’d been short with Jack ever since, though he’d reluctantly agreed. Not even the prospect of seeing Elizabeth again seemed to comfort him.

“It won’t be so bad,” Jack said encouragingly. “You’ll have the little mistress with you.” On the other side of Will, Idris glanced up at him, fiddling with the twin braids they’d fixed her hair in for the occasion. She patted Will’s clenched hand.

Will refused to be placated. “That’s if Norrington doesn’t shoot us on sight.” He suddenly straightened as a maid opened the door. Her eyes widened in alarm and Jack quickly began to speak before she could get a word out or possibly scream.

“Good afternoon, madam,” he said with a gallant tip of his hat, ignoring Will’s petulant snort. “We are looking for the lady of the house – a very old and dear friend of ours – if she be in and you’d be so kind as to fetch her.”

“HellomynameisIdrisandIamverypleasedtomeetyou,” the little girl added with a rapid-fire delivery.

“I’m going to tell Elizabeth that you called her old,” Will muttered to Jack.

Looking more overwhelmed than frightened now, clearly not expecting formal diction from a man of Jack’s appearance, the maid nodded and said in a quaking voice, “Won’t you just...wait here...” And she slammed the door.

With a groan, Will let his forehead thunk against the white-painted wood. “I’ll bet she’s gone off to ‘fetch’ the commodore. Brilliant plan, Jack. We’ll just waltz on up to the front door as if we belong here, despite the fact that there’s a price on both our heads.”

“There’s no need to be conceited,” Jack replied. “You haven’t been in the business near long enough to –”

Will pointedly turned his back. “That was very good,” he said to Idris, who dimpled at him. “But you might want to try it slower – My name is...”

The girl nodded and began to speak like the flow of molasses rather than quicksilver, drawing out each letter on her tongue. “My... Name... Is...”

Before she could finish, the door swung open again. This time it was Elizabeth and her face was lit up by a smile.

“Will! Jack!” She flung herself forward, attempting to land in both pairs of arms at once. Jack chuckled and let Will embrace her first, trying to quash feelings of jealousy at the delight with which Will swept her up, lifting her from the ground. Not entirely fair that he shouldn’t be shown the same manner of enthusiasm, considering whose bed the boy now shared and especially considering the condition they would soon have to explain to the young Mrs. Norrington.

Slight bitterness faded with the sweetness of Elizabeth’s laugh as she hugged him too. “What on earth are you two doing here? Please tell me no one saw you on your way in, James will be most upset – and who’s this?” Releasing Jack, she peered down at Idris, who took a deep, steadying breath and repeated the mantra Will had taught her at the same breakneck speed as before.

“She’s something of a –” Will paused, exchanging a glance with Jack.

“A hanger-on,” he supplied. At Elizabeth’s curious frown, he moved to change the subject. There’d be time enough to explain why Idris was with them. “Sun’s murder today, love, would y’mind if we came inside?”

“I would mind,” said a quiet voice from the shadows beyond the doorway. Elizabeth sighed patiently and drew aside to allow her husband to come forth. Jack recognized the frown affixed to Norrington’s face as the one he himself tended to put into commission.

“Good day, Commodore,” he said brightly. “Not hard at work keeping the seas safe from the likes of us, I see?”

The other man flushed slightly. “I have the liberty of taking an occasional afternoon off, Sparrow.”

Taking in Elizabeth’s bare feet, the buttons fastened askew on Norrington’s rumpled shirt, and the clearly post-coital colors to both their cheeks, Jack merely raised an eyebrow. Afternoon off, indeed. Good on Elizabeth for apparently being able to remove the stick from the commodore’s navy-blue arse.

As Idris’ mouth opened for another recitation, Elizabeth carefully steered Norrington away by his elbow. “It would be prudent to move this discussion to the parlor, don’t you think?” She turned her head and twitched it at Jack and Will, who stepped into the cool, dark foyer and shut the door behind them.

Jack felt Will draw unconsciously nearer to him and pull Idris against his side as they followed the Norringtons down the hall. The two of them were speaking with their heads close together, in low voices that he couldn’t make out no matter how he strained his ears. Fortunately some accord seemed to have been reached by the time they were all settled in the parlor and Elizabeth had called for tea.

Seated next to a cowed Norrington, Elizabeth gazed across the coffee table at her guests. “So what is it that brings you to Port Royal again? Surely there are safer waters.”

Jack attempted to get Will to do the talking, but an elbow gently prodding his ribs only resulted in Will stiffening and shaking his head. Bollocks. Was every damn thing Jack’s fault and responsibility now?

Seeking to stall and let the fire in Norrington’s stare cool a bit, he waved off her question. “Oh, we’ve been here an’ there, but you don’t want to hear about all that. How’ve you been, Lizzie darlin’?”

Elizabeth glanced to her husband with a small, mysterious smile. “Very well, thank you. In fact, we have some good news.”

At her words, Norrington’s hangdog expression softened somewhat. He left off glowering at the two pirates to fix contented green eyes on his wife.

“We’re going to have a child,” Elizabeth burst out, clasping her hands in her lap.

Jack grinned at life’s little coincidences. “My most sincere congratulations,” he said, with a stiff-faced nod to the commodore, who was still gazing adoringly at Elizabeth and didn’t notice. Man worshiped her still; she was a sensible lass to have finally given him a chance.

Beside him, Will was suddenly all puppy energy again. “That’s wonderful, Elizabeth!” To Jack’s surprise, the boy took his hand and gave him a shy smile. “Actually – and this is going to come as something more of a shock – we’re expecting as well.”

Well, it had been the perfect lead-in. Jack laid an arm across Will’s shoulders and turned to Elizabeth, anticipating a purple-faced fit until they could sufficiently explain themselves.

Her expression was politely puzzled, her smile almost blank. “Expecting what?”

Norrington looked up at them just in time to catch Jack’s mouth opening, then freezing as he found himself at a rare loss for words. Will bit his lip and whatever look he exchanged with Elizabeth caused her to understand.

Her jaw dropped. “Oh,” she said faintly. Then, her face reddening: “Oh.”

Glancing at each of them, Norrington gathered what he need to know from the uncomfortable silence and Will’s fidgeting. His face contorted like he’d just been hit in the gut. “How? What? How?” His voice rose into a near squeak on the last syllable.

“Three excellent questions,” said Jack, clearing his throat.

“I think the most important one,” said Elizabeth, shaking her head in disbelief, “is ‘how’? More precisely, how in bloody hell did you...” Norrington winced the wince of a long-suffering companion – an affectation Jack knew something about – at her swearing.

“It’s something of a long story,” Jack told her.

“Got mixed up in a fertility ritual,” said Will with a shrug.

“Apparently not that long.” Jack made a face, resentful of being deprived of the opportunity to spin the tale the way it deserved, with lots of embellishment and salacious details.

Elizabeth was still visibly reeling. She lifted a hand into the air and paused, not knowing what to do with it. “Are – are you quite sure?” she finally asked.

In answer, Will pulled the hem of his shirt out from his breeches, both items borrowed from a meaty crewman since his own had begun to cling. He bunched the fabric in his fist above the telltale bump. It might have been easy to mistake as just a pudgy middle when concealed, but the way the weight was distributed, and the fact that Will was still as lean as ever elsewhere, left no doubt.

“I thought you’d just gotten a bit hefty,” Elizabeth murmured, staring at the rounded flesh under Will’s fingers. Jack wanted to lace them through with his own, but Norrington was already green-faced enough, and he had no intention of overstaying their welcome.

“No, it’s true,” said Will. Jack was tickled to see a pleased, if a bit embarrassed, flush spread over his face. When Elizabeth glanced back up, there was something much softer than shock in her eyes.

“Well, cheers,” she said, smiling heartily at them both. “Isn’t it remarkable, James?”

“Remarkable,” Norrington mumbled, taking a deep breath. “Yes, I suppose it is, at that.” He patted her knee absently and rose. “I believe I need a drink.”

“In the middle of the day?” Jack said, gleeful at having this whole new opportunity to disarm the man. Norrington fixed bleary green eyes on him before turning on his heel and retreating to a far corner of the room.

Chuckling, Jack turned back to Will and discovered that Elizabeth had planted herself on his other side, clutching at his arm. Her face was now bright with excitement.

“How far along?”

“About three months,” Will replied. He flicked Jack’s hand away when Jack attempted to stroke the web of skin between his thumb and forefinger, a favorite spot for them both. Insulted, Jack flung his shoulders back against the sofa and concentrated on pouting as best he knew how, which was very well indeed. But Will continued to ignore him, every speck of his attention focused on Elizabeth, her hands caught within his own. As it used to be, she was the only person in the room to him. Jack had forgotten what that felt like, how lonely it could be, so he glanced at Norrington in search of sympathy. The commodore was sipping slowly but with intense focus from a glass of liquor the color of watered honey.

“You must tell me everything,” Elizabeth was demanding of Will. Idris hovered nearby, watching them avidly and drinking in each word, though she couldn’t possibly have understood most of them. Jack heaved a sigh, accepting the fact that he was in the minority so long as Will’s condition overshadowed his general state of maleness.

With a quick peck to Will’s shoulder that went thoroughly unnoticed, he got to his feet and approached Norrington. “Looks like good stuff, there, mate,” he said, indicating what his nose now confirmed as brandy.

Norrington looked sideways at him, as if afraid to entice him to move closer. His hand hovered over the neck of the crystal decanter.

“Would – would you like –” he began, his face contorting briefly as if the very thought of a friendly gesture pained him.

Jack dug in his jacket pocket, producing a small flask. “Never without me own.” Norrington wrinkled his nose distastefully as Jack took a swallow of rum, but said nothing.

The familiar taste lent him courage. He was not afraid of the commodore, oh no – certainly not with his wife in residence – but what he was about to ask, and the lengths to which Norrington would probably ask him to go, made his toes curl inside his boots. This was for Will, he reminded himself fiercely, and for the child as well.

“You must be wonderin’ why I’d dare to step foot in the place that’s near been the death of me so recently,” he said, tapping on the side of his flask with a nervous fingertip.

“The thought had crossed my mind,” said Norrington dryly.

“It’s like this, see,” said Jack, his voice dropping to a murmur as he leaned in close, ignoring Norrington’s frown. “There’s nothing in this world I wouldn’t give to keep that boy safe, an’ I’m afraid I can’t do it while conducting a proper business.”

“While robbing innocent merchants blind, you mean.”

Jack grinned. “‘Zactly, my good sir. What I’m proposing is a temporary truce of sorts, between th’ two of us, so that I might leave Will here for a bit, out of harm’s way, and be on about my affairs.”

Norrington’s eyebrows raised with a mild expression that might have been amusement. “And what would I be getting out of this arrangement, Mr. Sparrow?”

Captain, Jack thought vehemently with a wince, but he let it go this time. “Why, a fond companion for your wife, of course. The satisfaction of helping out a fellow expectant father. And money for food and board,” he said grudgingly, “if you’d like it.”

“I do believe that could be construed as an attempted bribe,” said Norrington. “I’ll be sure to add it to the already considerable tally of your offenses once I’ve arrested you.”

He looked like he meant it, and Jack’s spirits sank a little. He clasped his hands in front of his chest, gaze boring into Norrington’s. “There’s no possible way I could get you to do us this one teensy, tinesy favor, eh?” He offered a hesitant half-grin. “You’re a reasonable man, after all.”

Norrington snorted. “Yes, that’s precisely what I have been accused of being in my previous dealings with you, Sparrow.” His lips tightened in what Jack hoped was sincere reconsideration as he glanced over at the sofa, where Will and Elizabeth were still perched, talking animatedly to one another. Jack caught a few words about morning sickness and swollen ankles. He and the commodore shuddered at the same time; both noticing it, they traded wary, measuring looks.

“Nothing you wouldn’t do, is that right?” Norrington asked slowly.

“Yes,” said Jack immediately, though he paled at the thought of what Norrington might want. If he asked for the Pearl, Jack was just going to have to clock him a good one, grab Will and the little bit, and make a run for it.

But at the triumphant gleam in Norrington’s eye, the way his back straightened, Jack suddenly knew what he had in mind, and it filled him with sick dread.

“You wouldn’t,” he said with palpable despair.

“I’ve the papers in my office,” Norrington replied. “Drew them up months ago, at Elizabeth’s request, though she warned me at the time that she doubted you’d ever agree.” A smirk at the back of Will’s head. “Of course, neither of us could have anticipated these circumstances.”

“Nor could I,” Jack muttered. “This’s really the only way you’ll agree, then?”

“It is,” said Norrington, inclining his head. “We can always use another privateer in these waters - God knows the Spanish and the French have enough of their own.”

Jack sighed, setting the flask on the sideboard and holding a hand to his temple. If he’d been asked before this about the chances of his turning even mildly legitimate, especially for Norrington, he would have said something about hell and the winter's cold and kingdom come before the Black Pearl would ever sail under any colors but his own.

Will laughed at something Elizabeth had said, catching Jack’s eye over her head. Jack returned his smile with only a touch of bitterness. There were things more important than pride.

He clamped down a heavy sigh and stuck his hand out. “Accord struck.”

The commodore shook it after a faint hesitation, looking uncomfortable but bearing something like respect in his eyes. “In just a few strokes of the pen, you’ll be a British citizen once more, Captain Sparrow.”

Now he deigns to use it, Jack thought in irritation. “Fantastic,” he said dully. His fingers tightened around Norrington’s. “And you’ll keep Will safe until I’ve returned?”

“Mr. Turner will be well cared for,” Norrington assured him, wrenching his hand free. “What about the little girl?”

“Oh, Idris stays with Will, though you’re certainly welcome to try an' get her to leave his side.”

Norrington closed his eyes. “Just tell me the child is not escaped from a plantation or a ship fresh from Africa.”

“She isn’t,” said Jack.

Norrington looked at him again, puzzling over the sharp tone of his voice. Taking note of the dark expression in Jack’s face – slavery was one of the very many things he was less than keen on about the nation he was about to reclaim – the other man said in a low voice, “I’ve little patience in dealing with slavers. I’d prefer not to attract their attention.”

Well, he was just being bowled over with surprises today. “Understood,” he said, circling the arm of the sofa to drop down beside Will.

Elizabeth’s brows were knit seriously together. “Now, about sex –” Jack stifled a snicker as her eyes darted up to Norrington and Will squirmed. “–sections of the island you stayed on. I imagine the natural foliage was simply stunning.” She beamed at her husband, who sighed in apparent exhaustion and flopped his head back against his chair, draping an arm over his eyes.