Old Loves Die Hard
Title: Old Loves Die hard
Author: Divia
Rating: G, eh PG?
Disclaimer: I'm poor, dont sue me, not mine etc. etc.
Pairings: James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann
Summary: James Norrington must come to terms with a decision he made ten years ago. Will it destory his marriage?
Status: Complete
Warnings: Based on the 100 script ending, and what some posters over at Keep to the Code MB have been pondering lately. Could have spoilers.
It was a grand party, and one not to be forgotten. Elizabeth looked lovely as always in a very expensive silk dress with yards of Italian lace. The longing I saw in her eyes when she first took notice of the dress meant I could say nothing else but yes. It cost a small fortune, but it was worth it to see her happiness when I gave her the gown. I may also add that all other ladies paled in comparison to her beauty.
She was the prefect hostess, making her way around the room, speaking, laughing and joking with everyone regardless of their rank. Elizabeth had a natural gift to make people feel at ease. Her past sins had been forgotten, and no one spoke of them. She was a gentlewoman, and played the part very well.
We danced and ate, and everyone believed we were the perfect couple. But they did not know the truth about our marriage.
Elizabeth hitched up her skirt as she ascended the stairs. I had seen her go up and down those same stairs when she was a child. It was strange to see her as a mother now, and the wife of a governor.
I knew where she was going; there was no doubt in my mind. I tired to stop her, but her motherly instincts were too strong. Quietly, she opened the door to the nursery and crept in to check on the children. Thankfully, they did not wake, and as I assumed they were both still breathing. The death of our infant son had caused Elizabeth great distress. He had died in his crib, and Elizabeth was now fearful that the others would follow. I tried my best to reassure her that it would not happen again, but she refused to listen. She told me that I would never understand the bond between a mother and a child. I believe she is right.
Slowly she closed the door to the nursery, and I could tell by her expression that the children were safe. “Are you satisfied now?”
She hit me in the chest with her fan. “Hush. Why do you vex me, James? I’m worried and I cannot stop. Every night I am fearful something will happen to them.”
I pull her into my arm, and kiss her gently on the forehead. “I know my dear. I’m sorry.” She will never know how much I ached when we lost our son. He was mine, and I had grand dreams for him, but those were never meant to be. Elizabeth cried for days, and I did my best to comfort her, and prepare for the funeral. There was little time for me to mourn. Sometimes I go to his grave, and wonder what could have been.
Our daughter, Katherine was showing early signs of her mother’s strong will, which frightened me. I wondered if I too would have to fight with my daughter on whom she should marry. The thought was a dreadful one. For now, she was my little girl, and I cherished her. Elizabeth scolded me for spoiling Katherine more than I should. She said it would ruin her, but I did not believe my wife. A little girl deserves pretty things.
Our eldest, Will, was like his father. Impulsive. Rash. Daring. He was always seeking adventure, was a poor student, and had managed to break his arm, leg and wrist. To make matters worse the boy was only ten. I feared what he would break next, and prayed it would not be something grave like his neck. Will was an excellent swordsmen, and enjoyed pirate stories a little too much for my liking. I remained quiet on the subject. I hoped it was a childhood phase that would pass with the years. It would destroy me if he followed in the footsteps of his father.
“Did you enjoy the evening?” I ask, as Elizabeth brushes her hair. There are a few grey hairs forming around her crown, but I dare not tell her. She asked me if I saw some one night, and of course I told her no.
“Yes.” Elizabeth stops brushing her hair for a moment and gazes at her reflection in the looking glass. “Do you think that Mrs. Bradshaw is getting fat? She seemed it to me.”
“I did not notice.”
“James?”
“Hmm?” I look up from my book, knowing that tone in her voice. Something is bothering her.
“Do you think I am getting fat?”
“Absolutely not.” There is no hesitation. I learned that hesitating could mean I would be sleeping alone. “You are as beautiful as the day I married you. I daresay you were the most becoming woman tonight. I was proud and honored to have you on my arm.” It was my sincerest hope that my words would destroy her self doubt, but somehow I knew they would not.
Elizabeth presses her nightgown down over her stomach and frowns. “I think you are wrong.” Leaning closer to the mirror she looks at the edges of her eyes for wrinkles. She sighs. “I’m not pretty anymore.”
Her appearance had been bothering her for the past week. Nothing I could say would ease her mind. It worried me that she was so concerned what he would think.
I tried to block the upcoming date from my mind, but as it came closer I could not. Elizabeth was my wife. She had been my wife for ten wonderful years. When she first agreed to the marriage I knew she had done so out of desperation. There were little prospects for a penniless and pregnant woman. Her father was dead, and Will was cursed to sail the high seas. Elizabeth also had a soiled reputation.
When I asked her to marry me I fully expected her to say no. So much had happened I could hardly believe I survived. It had changed us all. Elizabeth knew her fate was bleak without a man, and she accepted my proposal.
I was not delusional. The marriage had been done out of necessity, not for love. My feelings for her had never wavered, but she was in love with Will Turner, and that would not change.
However, to my amazement, Elizabeth slowly began to thrive in our marriage. We had a connection that was unmistakable, and I often wondered if our ordeal had made us so unique that we could only turn to one another for comfort. I did not fool myself in thinking she loved me, because I knew she did not. We had a deep friendship.
Elizabeth busied herself with charitable activities until she could no longer perform her duties due to pregnancy. Will’s birth marked a changing point in the relationship. At first I had reservations about the child, and how I would feel upon his arrival. He was not mine. He was Will Turner’s child. Would I always think of Turner when I saw him? Would I be bitter?
To my amazement, my fears washed away when I held the small child in my arms for the first time. I was overcome with emotion. He was Will Turner’s child, but I would always see to his care. I would watch him grow, and I would teach him how to be a gentlemen. I would be his father. It was my sincerest hope that I would make Will Turner proud.
As the years passed Elizabeth, I believe, grew to love me more deeply. I know her heart would always belong to Will, but we shared something special. We were happy.
Elizabeth slips beneath the covers, and kisses me on the cheek. It is not our typical good-night kiss, but I know her mind is on Will Turner. It is hard to imagine that tomorrow she will run into his arms, and he will kiss her lips. He will run his hands over the body of my wife, and they will consummate their meeting. The thought is almost unbearable, and I want to order her to stay at home, but I cannot. I knew full well what I was entering upon when I married Elizabeth Swann. We have a wonderful marriage; surely I can give her one day to be with her old lover? But I do not want to. I do not want Will to touch the woman I have intimately loved for nine years.
Jealousy rises within me. What happens if after this meeting she no longer wants to come to my bed, and we take on the formal relationship we had within the first year of our marriage? I would go mad if that were to happen. There is no doubt in my mind that I have fallen more deeply in love with my wife than I ever thought possible. To lose Elizabeth now would be more than I could endure. I needed her.
The night was sleepless, and in the morning she dressed in a simple tan walking dress. Elizabeth instructed the maid to do her hair as usual. We spoke little. Neither of us knew what to say to each other. Both knew what would happen. What could a husband say to his wife when he knew she would go into another man’s arms?
Sitting on the bed I watched as she placed her favorite hat on her head, and tied the ribbon under her chin. My hands were clasped together, and there was no masking my misery. My mind screamed in protested. I wanted to tell her not to go, but that would not be fair. I would have to suffer in silence.
“I will be home in the morning.” She went to the door. “Please do not wait up for me.”
“Yes, of course.”
Elizabeth opened the door, and then paused. “I love you, James.”
“I have always loved you, and always will, my dear Elizabeth.” How I spoke those words I did not know, for my sadness almost overtook me. When she disappeared through the door I wanted to run after her. I wanted to tell her so much, but instead I fell onto the bed, and I cried like a fool. She said she loved me, but I wonder if she would continue after today.
Time dragged, and was my enemy. I continuously looked at the mantel clock. I was too busy fretting about my situation to complete my work. Horrible images ran through my mind. Unable to brighten my mood I went to the nursery, hoping my children would bring a smile to my face. They were cheerful as always and in good sprits, but they could not lift my melancholy. I felt horrible. After leaving them, I went to my office, locked the door, and found a bottle of rum. Perhaps I could drink the pain away.
***
“James! Quick, I need help. James, what have you done?”
I feel someone tugging at my arm. When I open my eyes the light is too much. I groan. My head is throbbing, and I am in pain. How much did I drink? I could not remember. But I do recall finishing off the bottle of rum, and then going for the brandy. I am rolled onto my back, and when my eyes become adjusted to the light I see Elizabeth bent over me. She has returned.
“Oh honestly James, how could you?” There is annoyance in her voice. I can hear it, and I know that I shall get a stern talking to when I recover. She will tell me she is disappointed in my behavior, and that the children could have seen me in such a sad state. I know what she will say because I thought about this before. But I do not care.
“Did you see him?”
She pushes my hair back. “Shhh, don’t talk now. We need to get you to bed.”
I want to tell her so much, but the room is spinning, and then everything goes black.
**
When I am well again, I join my wife for breakfast. We say little. I know she is upset with me for my excessive drinking. There are so many questions I wish to ask her, but I do not. The truth would be too painful to hear. It is done. I will do my best to forget about the incident.
I married Elizabeth Swann knowing that once every ten years she would go into the arms of her lover. I will have to accept it.
Author: Divia
Rating: G, eh PG?
Disclaimer: I'm poor, dont sue me, not mine etc. etc.
Pairings: James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann
Summary: James Norrington must come to terms with a decision he made ten years ago. Will it destory his marriage?
Status: Complete
Warnings: Based on the 100 script ending, and what some posters over at Keep to the Code MB have been pondering lately. Could have spoilers.
It was a grand party, and one not to be forgotten. Elizabeth looked lovely as always in a very expensive silk dress with yards of Italian lace. The longing I saw in her eyes when she first took notice of the dress meant I could say nothing else but yes. It cost a small fortune, but it was worth it to see her happiness when I gave her the gown. I may also add that all other ladies paled in comparison to her beauty.
She was the prefect hostess, making her way around the room, speaking, laughing and joking with everyone regardless of their rank. Elizabeth had a natural gift to make people feel at ease. Her past sins had been forgotten, and no one spoke of them. She was a gentlewoman, and played the part very well.
We danced and ate, and everyone believed we were the perfect couple. But they did not know the truth about our marriage.
Elizabeth hitched up her skirt as she ascended the stairs. I had seen her go up and down those same stairs when she was a child. It was strange to see her as a mother now, and the wife of a governor.
I knew where she was going; there was no doubt in my mind. I tired to stop her, but her motherly instincts were too strong. Quietly, she opened the door to the nursery and crept in to check on the children. Thankfully, they did not wake, and as I assumed they were both still breathing. The death of our infant son had caused Elizabeth great distress. He had died in his crib, and Elizabeth was now fearful that the others would follow. I tried my best to reassure her that it would not happen again, but she refused to listen. She told me that I would never understand the bond between a mother and a child. I believe she is right.
Slowly she closed the door to the nursery, and I could tell by her expression that the children were safe. “Are you satisfied now?”
She hit me in the chest with her fan. “Hush. Why do you vex me, James? I’m worried and I cannot stop. Every night I am fearful something will happen to them.”
I pull her into my arm, and kiss her gently on the forehead. “I know my dear. I’m sorry.” She will never know how much I ached when we lost our son. He was mine, and I had grand dreams for him, but those were never meant to be. Elizabeth cried for days, and I did my best to comfort her, and prepare for the funeral. There was little time for me to mourn. Sometimes I go to his grave, and wonder what could have been.
Our daughter, Katherine was showing early signs of her mother’s strong will, which frightened me. I wondered if I too would have to fight with my daughter on whom she should marry. The thought was a dreadful one. For now, she was my little girl, and I cherished her. Elizabeth scolded me for spoiling Katherine more than I should. She said it would ruin her, but I did not believe my wife. A little girl deserves pretty things.
Our eldest, Will, was like his father. Impulsive. Rash. Daring. He was always seeking adventure, was a poor student, and had managed to break his arm, leg and wrist. To make matters worse the boy was only ten. I feared what he would break next, and prayed it would not be something grave like his neck. Will was an excellent swordsmen, and enjoyed pirate stories a little too much for my liking. I remained quiet on the subject. I hoped it was a childhood phase that would pass with the years. It would destroy me if he followed in the footsteps of his father.
“Did you enjoy the evening?” I ask, as Elizabeth brushes her hair. There are a few grey hairs forming around her crown, but I dare not tell her. She asked me if I saw some one night, and of course I told her no.
“Yes.” Elizabeth stops brushing her hair for a moment and gazes at her reflection in the looking glass. “Do you think that Mrs. Bradshaw is getting fat? She seemed it to me.”
“I did not notice.”
“James?”
“Hmm?” I look up from my book, knowing that tone in her voice. Something is bothering her.
“Do you think I am getting fat?”
“Absolutely not.” There is no hesitation. I learned that hesitating could mean I would be sleeping alone. “You are as beautiful as the day I married you. I daresay you were the most becoming woman tonight. I was proud and honored to have you on my arm.” It was my sincerest hope that my words would destroy her self doubt, but somehow I knew they would not.
Elizabeth presses her nightgown down over her stomach and frowns. “I think you are wrong.” Leaning closer to the mirror she looks at the edges of her eyes for wrinkles. She sighs. “I’m not pretty anymore.”
Her appearance had been bothering her for the past week. Nothing I could say would ease her mind. It worried me that she was so concerned what he would think.
I tried to block the upcoming date from my mind, but as it came closer I could not. Elizabeth was my wife. She had been my wife for ten wonderful years. When she first agreed to the marriage I knew she had done so out of desperation. There were little prospects for a penniless and pregnant woman. Her father was dead, and Will was cursed to sail the high seas. Elizabeth also had a soiled reputation.
When I asked her to marry me I fully expected her to say no. So much had happened I could hardly believe I survived. It had changed us all. Elizabeth knew her fate was bleak without a man, and she accepted my proposal.
I was not delusional. The marriage had been done out of necessity, not for love. My feelings for her had never wavered, but she was in love with Will Turner, and that would not change.
However, to my amazement, Elizabeth slowly began to thrive in our marriage. We had a connection that was unmistakable, and I often wondered if our ordeal had made us so unique that we could only turn to one another for comfort. I did not fool myself in thinking she loved me, because I knew she did not. We had a deep friendship.
Elizabeth busied herself with charitable activities until she could no longer perform her duties due to pregnancy. Will’s birth marked a changing point in the relationship. At first I had reservations about the child, and how I would feel upon his arrival. He was not mine. He was Will Turner’s child. Would I always think of Turner when I saw him? Would I be bitter?
To my amazement, my fears washed away when I held the small child in my arms for the first time. I was overcome with emotion. He was Will Turner’s child, but I would always see to his care. I would watch him grow, and I would teach him how to be a gentlemen. I would be his father. It was my sincerest hope that I would make Will Turner proud.
As the years passed Elizabeth, I believe, grew to love me more deeply. I know her heart would always belong to Will, but we shared something special. We were happy.
Elizabeth slips beneath the covers, and kisses me on the cheek. It is not our typical good-night kiss, but I know her mind is on Will Turner. It is hard to imagine that tomorrow she will run into his arms, and he will kiss her lips. He will run his hands over the body of my wife, and they will consummate their meeting. The thought is almost unbearable, and I want to order her to stay at home, but I cannot. I knew full well what I was entering upon when I married Elizabeth Swann. We have a wonderful marriage; surely I can give her one day to be with her old lover? But I do not want to. I do not want Will to touch the woman I have intimately loved for nine years.
Jealousy rises within me. What happens if after this meeting she no longer wants to come to my bed, and we take on the formal relationship we had within the first year of our marriage? I would go mad if that were to happen. There is no doubt in my mind that I have fallen more deeply in love with my wife than I ever thought possible. To lose Elizabeth now would be more than I could endure. I needed her.
The night was sleepless, and in the morning she dressed in a simple tan walking dress. Elizabeth instructed the maid to do her hair as usual. We spoke little. Neither of us knew what to say to each other. Both knew what would happen. What could a husband say to his wife when he knew she would go into another man’s arms?
Sitting on the bed I watched as she placed her favorite hat on her head, and tied the ribbon under her chin. My hands were clasped together, and there was no masking my misery. My mind screamed in protested. I wanted to tell her not to go, but that would not be fair. I would have to suffer in silence.
“I will be home in the morning.” She went to the door. “Please do not wait up for me.”
“Yes, of course.”
Elizabeth opened the door, and then paused. “I love you, James.”
“I have always loved you, and always will, my dear Elizabeth.” How I spoke those words I did not know, for my sadness almost overtook me. When she disappeared through the door I wanted to run after her. I wanted to tell her so much, but instead I fell onto the bed, and I cried like a fool. She said she loved me, but I wonder if she would continue after today.
Time dragged, and was my enemy. I continuously looked at the mantel clock. I was too busy fretting about my situation to complete my work. Horrible images ran through my mind. Unable to brighten my mood I went to the nursery, hoping my children would bring a smile to my face. They were cheerful as always and in good sprits, but they could not lift my melancholy. I felt horrible. After leaving them, I went to my office, locked the door, and found a bottle of rum. Perhaps I could drink the pain away.
***
“James! Quick, I need help. James, what have you done?”
I feel someone tugging at my arm. When I open my eyes the light is too much. I groan. My head is throbbing, and I am in pain. How much did I drink? I could not remember. But I do recall finishing off the bottle of rum, and then going for the brandy. I am rolled onto my back, and when my eyes become adjusted to the light I see Elizabeth bent over me. She has returned.
“Oh honestly James, how could you?” There is annoyance in her voice. I can hear it, and I know that I shall get a stern talking to when I recover. She will tell me she is disappointed in my behavior, and that the children could have seen me in such a sad state. I know what she will say because I thought about this before. But I do not care.
“Did you see him?”
She pushes my hair back. “Shhh, don’t talk now. We need to get you to bed.”
I want to tell her so much, but the room is spinning, and then everything goes black.
**
When I am well again, I join my wife for breakfast. We say little. I know she is upset with me for my excessive drinking. There are so many questions I wish to ask her, but I do not. The truth would be too painful to hear. It is done. I will do my best to forget about the incident.
I married Elizabeth Swann knowing that once every ten years she would go into the arms of her lover. I will have to accept it.