Wish I had an Angel
Title: Wish I had an Angel
Author: Divia
Chapter: 5
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I'm poor, don’t sue me, not mine etc. etc.
Pairings: James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann/Will Turner
Summary: Elizabeth is having doubts about her upcoming marriage to Will Turner. Can Miss Swann live as a blacksmith's wife?
Status: incomplete
James had a throbbing headache that would not go away. Recent events were causing him so much stress that he had been sick for nearly a week. He ate little, slept even less, and was ill-tempered. The men stayed far away from their commanding officer, and grew nervous whenever he appeared.
For once in his life, Elizabeth was not the source of his pain. Instead, a familiar enemy was causing havoc around Port Royal. James wasn’t sure if it was Jack Sparrow, but some pirate was making his life miserable. Supplies from England were arriving slowly, and two merchant ships had been attacked only a few miles from port. James was beyond annoyed, and Governor Swann was fearful that pirates would attack Port Royal. Weatherby remembered what happened the last time, and he did not want events to repeat themselves.
The moon hung low in the sky casting silver shadows against the gravel road. It was a hot and humid night, and James pulled at his collar. His heavy coat was neatly folded over his arm. When he arrived at the governor’s home he would don it, but he was too uncomfortable to wear it now. His white shirt clung to his back, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Even his trademark wig had been cast aside, and was resting on his nightstand. He did not look very dignified; but at three in the morning, James did not anticipate seeing anyone of significance on the road.
Duty had dragged him out of bed at such an obscene hour. Another pirate attack occurred, and James needed to tell the Governor. It would not be a pleasant meeting. Weatherby’s nerves were already a mess. James’ latest news would not improve the older man’s condition.
A few yards ahead, James saw a figure emerge from the side of the road. An errie glow appeared on the figure, which looked over its shoulder quickly, and then ran up the road. James stood stunned for a moment. Had he seen a ghost? The creature certainly moved like a ghost with its flowing robes and quick movement. He shook his head and pushed the thought from his mind. James lived in a scientifc age, and there was no room for foolish through.
The night’s silence was broken by a scream, and then a loud “No!”
Of all the stories James had heard, he never remebered one where a ghost screamed. He threw his coat to the grown, and ran down the road with his sword in hand.
A man stood behind his victim holding her tightly around the waist as she kicked and pulled his greasy black hair. He was slowly backing away from the road to bring her into the bushes.
“Stop!” James demanded in a loud clear voice. “Unhand the woman at once.” He pointed his sword at them both.
The crimal threw the woman to the ground, and staggered a bit. It was obvious he was drunk, and by the looks of him a dullard. He picked up a handful of gravel, threw it at James then made a shreak. With his sword still drawn James took a step forward, and the man ran into the thicket.
“Are you hurt, miss?” James tried to assist the woman, but she pushed his hands away. “Shall I call the constable? Is there anything that I may do to assit you?” When her hood fell down he could not believe his eyes.
“Elizabeth?” James was stunned. What was she doing outside her home at such an ungodly hour? Her father would never approve. What was she thinking?
“Please don’t tell father.” Standing she brushed off her skirt then pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
He looked at her torn dress, and disheveled hair. Her face was smudged with dirt, and her arm was scraped and bleeding from the stones. “You’re hurt.” James took her wrist, and examined her cut.
“It’s nothing.”
He scoffed, then reached into his pocket and removed his handkerchief. Carefully he tied it around her arm. “It will need to be cleaned. Please do so as soon as you get home.” They stood silently for a while, but it was broken by his question.
“What are you doing out here?”
She bowed her head, and did not look up into his judgmental eyes. “I was going for a walk,” she offered.
“Indeed.” James couldn’t think of it now. He would pretend as if this night never occurred, and Elizabeth was still the innocent, angelic woman he had known. “Come.” He extended his hand. “It is late and I will accompany you home. It is unthinkable that you would be forced to travel alone at this time.” If James ever saw Will he would knock some sense into him. First, he was destroying Elizabeth’s reputation, and then he didn’t have the common courtesy to walk her home. It was unthinkable.
“I’m sorry, James. Please don’t think ill of me. Please.” She grabbed onto his arm. “It was a foolish mistake and…”
“I love looking at the moon when it’s full. It is so becoming.” James’ eyes were focused on the road before him. It was too painful to look at Elizabeth.
“Please don’t tell my father.”
“The matter is not mine to discuss. I would hope by now you know me to be a man of honor. It would be unbecoming of me to run, and tell your father about this matter.”
“Thank you.” It was the only thing she could say. Elizabeth wanted to say more, to plea her case, but she knew it was pointless. What could she say? It was her sincerest wish that James had not lost respect for her. Elizabeth could not bear it if he had.
“I pray the rest of Port Royal does not catch wind of this. It will destroy your reputation, and no doubt kill your father.”
“Don’t say such things!”
He looked directly into her eyes. “Maybe you should have thought about the consequences of your actions before you acted so hastily.” James stopped at the iron fence. “I assume that you know how to get back inside. I think it would be in poor taste if I brought you inside your father’s home looking the way you do. He would think ill of me. Good-night.”
“Please don’t hate me, James.” She reached out to touch his arm, but he turned away.
“Good-night,” he repeated.
Elizabeth watched through the gate as James walked up the path, and then ascended the stone steps. Her fingers ran over his handkerchief as tears fell. His image of her was tarnished, and nothing she could say or do would ever bring it back.
Author: Divia
Chapter: 5
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I'm poor, don’t sue me, not mine etc. etc.
Pairings: James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann/Will Turner
Summary: Elizabeth is having doubts about her upcoming marriage to Will Turner. Can Miss Swann live as a blacksmith's wife?
Status: incomplete
James had a throbbing headache that would not go away. Recent events were causing him so much stress that he had been sick for nearly a week. He ate little, slept even less, and was ill-tempered. The men stayed far away from their commanding officer, and grew nervous whenever he appeared.
For once in his life, Elizabeth was not the source of his pain. Instead, a familiar enemy was causing havoc around Port Royal. James wasn’t sure if it was Jack Sparrow, but some pirate was making his life miserable. Supplies from England were arriving slowly, and two merchant ships had been attacked only a few miles from port. James was beyond annoyed, and Governor Swann was fearful that pirates would attack Port Royal. Weatherby remembered what happened the last time, and he did not want events to repeat themselves.
The moon hung low in the sky casting silver shadows against the gravel road. It was a hot and humid night, and James pulled at his collar. His heavy coat was neatly folded over his arm. When he arrived at the governor’s home he would don it, but he was too uncomfortable to wear it now. His white shirt clung to his back, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. Even his trademark wig had been cast aside, and was resting on his nightstand. He did not look very dignified; but at three in the morning, James did not anticipate seeing anyone of significance on the road.
Duty had dragged him out of bed at such an obscene hour. Another pirate attack occurred, and James needed to tell the Governor. It would not be a pleasant meeting. Weatherby’s nerves were already a mess. James’ latest news would not improve the older man’s condition.
A few yards ahead, James saw a figure emerge from the side of the road. An errie glow appeared on the figure, which looked over its shoulder quickly, and then ran up the road. James stood stunned for a moment. Had he seen a ghost? The creature certainly moved like a ghost with its flowing robes and quick movement. He shook his head and pushed the thought from his mind. James lived in a scientifc age, and there was no room for foolish through.
The night’s silence was broken by a scream, and then a loud “No!”
Of all the stories James had heard, he never remebered one where a ghost screamed. He threw his coat to the grown, and ran down the road with his sword in hand.
A man stood behind his victim holding her tightly around the waist as she kicked and pulled his greasy black hair. He was slowly backing away from the road to bring her into the bushes.
“Stop!” James demanded in a loud clear voice. “Unhand the woman at once.” He pointed his sword at them both.
The crimal threw the woman to the ground, and staggered a bit. It was obvious he was drunk, and by the looks of him a dullard. He picked up a handful of gravel, threw it at James then made a shreak. With his sword still drawn James took a step forward, and the man ran into the thicket.
“Are you hurt, miss?” James tried to assist the woman, but she pushed his hands away. “Shall I call the constable? Is there anything that I may do to assit you?” When her hood fell down he could not believe his eyes.
“Elizabeth?” James was stunned. What was she doing outside her home at such an ungodly hour? Her father would never approve. What was she thinking?
“Please don’t tell father.” Standing she brushed off her skirt then pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
He looked at her torn dress, and disheveled hair. Her face was smudged with dirt, and her arm was scraped and bleeding from the stones. “You’re hurt.” James took her wrist, and examined her cut.
“It’s nothing.”
He scoffed, then reached into his pocket and removed his handkerchief. Carefully he tied it around her arm. “It will need to be cleaned. Please do so as soon as you get home.” They stood silently for a while, but it was broken by his question.
“What are you doing out here?”
She bowed her head, and did not look up into his judgmental eyes. “I was going for a walk,” she offered.
“Indeed.” James couldn’t think of it now. He would pretend as if this night never occurred, and Elizabeth was still the innocent, angelic woman he had known. “Come.” He extended his hand. “It is late and I will accompany you home. It is unthinkable that you would be forced to travel alone at this time.” If James ever saw Will he would knock some sense into him. First, he was destroying Elizabeth’s reputation, and then he didn’t have the common courtesy to walk her home. It was unthinkable.
“I’m sorry, James. Please don’t think ill of me. Please.” She grabbed onto his arm. “It was a foolish mistake and…”
“I love looking at the moon when it’s full. It is so becoming.” James’ eyes were focused on the road before him. It was too painful to look at Elizabeth.
“Please don’t tell my father.”
“The matter is not mine to discuss. I would hope by now you know me to be a man of honor. It would be unbecoming of me to run, and tell your father about this matter.”
“Thank you.” It was the only thing she could say. Elizabeth wanted to say more, to plea her case, but she knew it was pointless. What could she say? It was her sincerest wish that James had not lost respect for her. Elizabeth could not bear it if he had.
“I pray the rest of Port Royal does not catch wind of this. It will destroy your reputation, and no doubt kill your father.”
“Don’t say such things!”
He looked directly into her eyes. “Maybe you should have thought about the consequences of your actions before you acted so hastily.” James stopped at the iron fence. “I assume that you know how to get back inside. I think it would be in poor taste if I brought you inside your father’s home looking the way you do. He would think ill of me. Good-night.”
“Please don’t hate me, James.” She reached out to touch his arm, but he turned away.
“Good-night,” he repeated.
Elizabeth watched through the gate as James walked up the path, and then ascended the stone steps. Her fingers ran over his handkerchief as tears fell. His image of her was tarnished, and nothing she could say or do would ever bring it back.