Oh, the Angst ! *sob*
Posting my Norribeth Angstathon story two days before the deadline! Go me! It isn't a long one, just 500 words (four 125 word drabbles) written for my dear yoiebear, who requested James at Elizabeth and Will's wedding. Since the canon wedding was spoiled by the uncouth Beckett and his minions (and Norrington was drowning his sorrows on another island entirely at the time), I've gone A/U and used Elizabeth and Will's wedding from the second chapter of Harry & the Pirate: Swann's Revenge, entitled, Happy Shalt Thou Be. One section features Harry and her modish "friend", but familiarity with the original story isn't required at all.
I used the four drabble format so this would also qualify for the current challenge at rough_magic: "Four Truths and a Lie". You'll have to guess which one is which. ;)
Many, many thanks to hereswith and honorat for the beta help!
Without further ado, here are...
~ Reflections in Stained Glass ~
The pews in St. George’s Cathedral, Port Royal, are every bit as hard as the ones he recalls from his boyhood days when he attended the parish church on rainy English Sabbaths, en famille. Caroline was an exemplary sister-there was never a peep out of her, even during the longest, dreariest homily. Not so he and Robert, however. Fidgeting, whispering, even giggling enlivened those dull mornings, in spite of the knowledge that they would very likely be summoned to the library for the dispensation of paternal retribution in the afternoon.
James shifts slightly upon the unyielding wood and winces, remembering.
Perhaps that’s why he dislikes attending services of any sort. Even weddings.
It couldn’t be merely the sight of his loss becoming irrevocable fact.
*
Elizabeth’s aunt, the vivacious Henrietta, provides a pleasant distraction. Or would, had not that “old friend” arrived just in time to claim the lady’s smiles and attention. James has seen such exquisites before - in London, not Jamaica. Lord, even the excessively modish Swann thinks the man a fribble.
Apricot satin coat and fitted knee breeches. Waistcoat embroidered to within an inch of its life. Snowy linen shirt and cravat, lavish with Mechlin lace. Clocked stockings. Diamond buckled shoes.
The dark head with its wealth of carefully arranged, flowing curls bends to hers and she dimples at some murmured witticism. A sidelong glance from laughing black eyes, and her unvoiced reply is far too fond.
Harry is playing with fire.
And Jack Sparrow should be thrashed.
*
If that wolf in sheep’s clothing is all suave urbanity, his friend William Turner looks stiff as a poker, apparently stunned by good fortune and Elizabeth’s beauty. As well he should be.
Still, the boy’s come a long way from that morning of fog and fire when they had happened upon him, reeling from shock and exposure to the elements.
He was claimed by Elizabeth from the start. Father left him in my charge. He bade me watch over him! She was most insistent, refusing to leave when they wished to question Will in private. Stubborn chit.
And stubborn boy. James can still hear the thunk of that boarding ax, and the single-minded accusation: That’s not good enough!
Too rash.
Unfortunately, Will had been correct.
*
“Do you, Elizabeth Swann, take this man, William Turner…”
James breathes in sharply. He does not move, schooling his expression as she speaks her vows.
Theirs would have been a marriage of convenience, on both sides, of course. He is, and has always been, very much aware that her initial acceptance of his suit was a matter of expedience. It could not but occur that she had nothing else with which to bargain.
For his part, marriage to the governor’s daughter would have been quite a feather in his cap, with advancement and wealth sure to follow.
There have been other women in his life, and there will be again. Other opportunities, ripe for the plucking.
And, after all, he never really loved her.
Elizabeth...
~.~
I used the four drabble format so this would also qualify for the current challenge at rough_magic: "Four Truths and a Lie". You'll have to guess which one is which. ;)
Many, many thanks to hereswith and honorat for the beta help!
Without further ado, here are...
~ Reflections in Stained Glass ~
The pews in St. George’s Cathedral, Port Royal, are every bit as hard as the ones he recalls from his boyhood days when he attended the parish church on rainy English Sabbaths, en famille. Caroline was an exemplary sister-there was never a peep out of her, even during the longest, dreariest homily. Not so he and Robert, however. Fidgeting, whispering, even giggling enlivened those dull mornings, in spite of the knowledge that they would very likely be summoned to the library for the dispensation of paternal retribution in the afternoon.
James shifts slightly upon the unyielding wood and winces, remembering.
Perhaps that’s why he dislikes attending services of any sort. Even weddings.
It couldn’t be merely the sight of his loss becoming irrevocable fact.
*
Elizabeth’s aunt, the vivacious Henrietta, provides a pleasant distraction. Or would, had not that “old friend” arrived just in time to claim the lady’s smiles and attention. James has seen such exquisites before - in London, not Jamaica. Lord, even the excessively modish Swann thinks the man a fribble.
Apricot satin coat and fitted knee breeches. Waistcoat embroidered to within an inch of its life. Snowy linen shirt and cravat, lavish with Mechlin lace. Clocked stockings. Diamond buckled shoes.
The dark head with its wealth of carefully arranged, flowing curls bends to hers and she dimples at some murmured witticism. A sidelong glance from laughing black eyes, and her unvoiced reply is far too fond.
Harry is playing with fire.
And Jack Sparrow should be thrashed.
*
If that wolf in sheep’s clothing is all suave urbanity, his friend William Turner looks stiff as a poker, apparently stunned by good fortune and Elizabeth’s beauty. As well he should be.
Still, the boy’s come a long way from that morning of fog and fire when they had happened upon him, reeling from shock and exposure to the elements.
He was claimed by Elizabeth from the start. Father left him in my charge. He bade me watch over him! She was most insistent, refusing to leave when they wished to question Will in private. Stubborn chit.
And stubborn boy. James can still hear the thunk of that boarding ax, and the single-minded accusation: That’s not good enough!
Too rash.
Unfortunately, Will had been correct.
*
“Do you, Elizabeth Swann, take this man, William Turner…”
James breathes in sharply. He does not move, schooling his expression as she speaks her vows.
Theirs would have been a marriage of convenience, on both sides, of course. He is, and has always been, very much aware that her initial acceptance of his suit was a matter of expedience. It could not but occur that she had nothing else with which to bargain.
For his part, marriage to the governor’s daughter would have been quite a feather in his cap, with advancement and wealth sure to follow.
There have been other women in his life, and there will be again. Other opportunities, ripe for the plucking.
And, after all, he never really loved her.
Elizabeth...
~.~