Chance Encounter
Title: Chance Encounter
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Disney's. I don't own it. No infringement is intended and no profit is made.
Summary: Anamaria and Norrington meet by chance in Tortuga. Set before Norrington's first appearance in DMC.
Author's note: This one is for berne, and the prompt was "hats". With thanks to geekmama for beta reading.
Chance Encounter
by Hereswith
It was in Tortuga she saw him, on a side street near the docks. Some scraggy urchin had got hold of his hat, skipped and waved it about to taunt him, and he stumbled, trying to retrieve it, grasping on air, his dirty wig slipping. There were men aplenty like him, soused to the ears and reeking of filth and the gutter, and she spared them no glances, but something about him caught her attention, and without thinking, she snatched the hat from the lad, her scowl and snap of temper sending him scampering.
She eyed the man, once alone with him. He’d clean up nice, she was startled to realise, he had a pretty face ‘neath the grime and the beard, pretty eyes, to boot, and it set her teeth on edge, making her wary. When she handed him the hat, he put it on with care, and then he spoke.
“I appreciate your help, miss.”
Her hackles rose. No common sailor, this-the tone, and his bearing, though liquor blurred it and he swayed slightly where he stood, suggested different, he was used to rank and command, she’d wager, as little sense as it made, what with his sorry state. She shrugged. “There was nothing to it.”
She meant to leave, that said, but he touched her arm. “Wait.”
She stiffened, half a breath from pulling her knife on him, and he must have noted it, for he let go, his fingers curling in on themselves.
“You aren’t from these parts, are you?” The words escaped, curiosity tripping her, and she bit her tongue, too late.
He shook his head. “No.”
Then he blanched and twisted around, vomiting noisily against the wall, and she wrinkled her nose at the sight and the sound, wondering at him. He recovered as quickly as he had been struck and straightened himself, turning to her with an apology at the ready, she could tell, and she interrupted him with the first thing that leapt to mind. “What brought you to Tortuga, then?”
He blinked, surprised. “Circumstance,” he replied, his lips curving, and it was a rare fine smile, for all it was wry. “Folly.”
She gave a short laugh, believing that last. “Whatever you’re searching for, you won’t find it here.”
“Perhaps not,” he agreed. “Then again, it’s the one place I still might.”
She was intrigued, she could scarce deny it, drawn to linger and learn more, but no good would come of that, she was certain, so she squared her shoulders, fighting the urge. “I should go.” An emotion she couldn’t interpret crossed his features and oh, she was daft, she was, but she added, “What’s your name?”
He hesitated, with a sudden, pensive expression, then said, “James.”
“James,” she repeated, rolling it in her mouth, liking the taste of it too much for comfort. “I wish you luck, James.”
Before he could reply, before he could ask for her name in return, she tugged her own hat down over her eyes and walked away. She could feel his gaze on her, each step until she rounded the corner, but she didn’t look back.
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Disney's. I don't own it. No infringement is intended and no profit is made.
Summary: Anamaria and Norrington meet by chance in Tortuga. Set before Norrington's first appearance in DMC.
Author's note: This one is for berne, and the prompt was "hats". With thanks to geekmama for beta reading.
Chance Encounter
by Hereswith
It was in Tortuga she saw him, on a side street near the docks. Some scraggy urchin had got hold of his hat, skipped and waved it about to taunt him, and he stumbled, trying to retrieve it, grasping on air, his dirty wig slipping. There were men aplenty like him, soused to the ears and reeking of filth and the gutter, and she spared them no glances, but something about him caught her attention, and without thinking, she snatched the hat from the lad, her scowl and snap of temper sending him scampering.
She eyed the man, once alone with him. He’d clean up nice, she was startled to realise, he had a pretty face ‘neath the grime and the beard, pretty eyes, to boot, and it set her teeth on edge, making her wary. When she handed him the hat, he put it on with care, and then he spoke.
“I appreciate your help, miss.”
Her hackles rose. No common sailor, this-the tone, and his bearing, though liquor blurred it and he swayed slightly where he stood, suggested different, he was used to rank and command, she’d wager, as little sense as it made, what with his sorry state. She shrugged. “There was nothing to it.”
She meant to leave, that said, but he touched her arm. “Wait.”
She stiffened, half a breath from pulling her knife on him, and he must have noted it, for he let go, his fingers curling in on themselves.
“You aren’t from these parts, are you?” The words escaped, curiosity tripping her, and she bit her tongue, too late.
He shook his head. “No.”
Then he blanched and twisted around, vomiting noisily against the wall, and she wrinkled her nose at the sight and the sound, wondering at him. He recovered as quickly as he had been struck and straightened himself, turning to her with an apology at the ready, she could tell, and she interrupted him with the first thing that leapt to mind. “What brought you to Tortuga, then?”
He blinked, surprised. “Circumstance,” he replied, his lips curving, and it was a rare fine smile, for all it was wry. “Folly.”
She gave a short laugh, believing that last. “Whatever you’re searching for, you won’t find it here.”
“Perhaps not,” he agreed. “Then again, it’s the one place I still might.”
She was intrigued, she could scarce deny it, drawn to linger and learn more, but no good would come of that, she was certain, so she squared her shoulders, fighting the urge. “I should go.” An emotion she couldn’t interpret crossed his features and oh, she was daft, she was, but she added, “What’s your name?”
He hesitated, with a sudden, pensive expression, then said, “James.”
“James,” she repeated, rolling it in her mouth, liking the taste of it too much for comfort. “I wish you luck, James.”
Before he could reply, before he could ask for her name in return, she tugged her own hat down over her eyes and walked away. She could feel his gaze on her, each step until she rounded the corner, but she didn’t look back.