by Kenovay
"Yes?" His voice was not sharp, but clearly conveyed the fact that he was an important man who had no time to waste with people.
"Miss Swann to see you, sir." The marine was thin and sardonic. Norrington disliked him intensely.
"Thank you. You can go."
The marine hesitated. Norrington raised his eyebrows. "She's - ah, rather upset, sir. Shall I find some brandy?"
"Upset? Brandy? How upset, marine?"
"Distraught, I would say, sir."
"Send her up immediately." The marine nodded, and turned to go. "Wait." Norrington looked hopefully at the man. The idea of a distraught Elizabeth was unnerving him. "You think brandy would be� appropriate?"
"I'll bring some up, sir." The marine gave a sharp salute and left. Norrington sunk into his chair.
He didn't have long to wait. Elizabeth pushed the door open sharply and rushed in, her eyes bright. "He� James! Oh God, James! He� he�"
Norrington clenched his fists behind his back. "Turner?"
"Yes, Will." Elizabeth sunk into a chair. "He's gone."
"Gone?" Norrington felt slow and stupid, simply repeating her.
"Gone. He left a note, of course. Honourable little git." She laughed mirthlessly. Norrington tried not to be shocked at her language. Obviously, there were parts of Elizabeth that he didn't know about.
"A note? What did he say?"
"I'm too good for him, he thinks I deserve better, he's afraid he'll turn into his father." Elizabeth sprung to her feet again, her face flushed and bright. "All things we've talked about before, nothing new, and I thought I'd put his fears to rest." She pinned Norrington with a glare. "I think I might enter a convent. I hate men." She swung round to stare unseeingly out of the window.
"Elizabeth�" Norrington half-rose to his feet helplessly, and breathed a sigh when the door opened to allow the marine to enter backwards, manoeuvring the silver tray carefully. "Thank you, marine," he said, as civilly as possibly, sinking back into his chair.
The marine nodded in acknowledgement and set the tray down carefully on the table. "Brandy, Miss Swann?" Norrington, about to make the same offer, closed his mouth.
Elizabeth nodded tautly, remaining at the window, her back a straight, slender line. The marine did his job quietly and unobtrusively, almost prying Elizabeth's fist open to insert the brandy snifter. Norrington remained silent until the marine had closed the door behind himself, leaving the tray on the table.
"What excellent foresight, Commodore." Elizabeth already sounded calmer, Norrington noted with relief. Now they could sit down and rationally discuss what to do- His pleasant thoughts were interrupted by a crash as the snifter was hurled with some force to the floor. He jumped to his feet.
"Elizabeth! Elizabeth?"
She had not moved otherwise, but now her stillness disturbed Norrington. It was the coiled violence of a snake, of a pirate. For the first time he remembered that really, the more piratical of the two lovers had always been Elizabeth. "I'm tired of being coddled," Elizabeth said, her voice flat. "The marine said I was upset, yes? And then you ordered up brandy?"
"I - yes - something like that," Norrington said warily.
"Without even waiting to hear what had happened, Commodore. Perhaps I had become an alcoholic? Would the brandy have been a good idea then?" She turned around. "I do not want my decisions made for me, Commodore. If I had wanted brandy, I would have asked for it."
"I was just -" Norrington couldn't think of the words to say, and subsided. "Yes," he agreed, almost meekly.
"You're all the same." She was moving again, pacing. Norrington lifted a hand towards her, but let it drop fruitlessly. "You all think you can make my decisions for me. Will thinks I'm not enough of an adult to decide who I marry, my father think - oh!" With a sharp little scream she tumbled to the floor, her wide skirts having caught and almost torn on Norrington's ornate chest. Norrington started and hurried the few steps to her side. He hovered, afraid of the impropriety of touching her. But she wasn't moving.
"Elizabeth?" He squatted down and reached out a tentative hand to the thick mass of hair. "Elizabeth?" Her face was buried in her arms and her body was shaking. Crying?
With a sudden, decisive movement, Norrington placed his hand on her shoulder. She scrambled up and around, flinging herself into his arms. Norrington rocked back, lost his balance, and they landed in an undignified sprawl, Elizabeth still crying in Norrington's arms. "Miss Swann, I -" Norrington began to extricate himself. Elizabeth clutched more tightly. "Miss Swann, this is not proper!" Norrington hoped his tone was sufficiently scandalised. Because really, she was so warm, and so beautiful�
He stiffened, trying to make himself as uncomforting as possible. Elizabeth reacted, but not at all in the manner that Norrington was hoping for. She pulled her face away from his chest and tilted it upwards, at the same time grasping his head almost punishingly hard and dragging it downwards. At the first dry touch of lips, Norrington jerked back as though he'd been stung and clambered to his feet, unceremoniously shaking her off. She landed in a heap and looked up at him piteously, her eyes wide.
"Miss Swann, you are not in your right mind at present."
Her eyes narrowed, and she stood up gracefully. "I can make my own decisions, Commodore. Will is gone. Perhaps I am accepting your offer." She took a smooth step forwards. Norrington took a jerky one back.
Really, it wasn't fair. God was offering him everything he wanted on a platter, and he had to refuse it out of duty? Just once, couldn't he forget duty? But the small still voice inside him shook its head. You won't forgive yourself, it told him. Norrington breathed in, and tried to control the tremor in his voice. He felt torn in two. "Miss Swann - Elizabeth. You will regret this."
"Isn't that for me to decide?" Elizabeth took another step forward, but Norrington did not step back.
"No, Elizabeth. I cannot in conscience allow this." He stepped forwards and put his hands on her shoulders. "Go home. Wait for Turner to come back, which he will. If he doesn't I'll have him hanged." She gave a miserable little laugh at his weak joke. "Forget this� revenge."
Elizabeth looked into his face for a few moments, then patted his cheek gently. "James� one day, allow yourself to be selfish? Or you will never be happy."
"Today is not the day," Norrington said sadly.
"No. I'm glad." Elizabeth walked to the door. "I will see myself out, James."
The door closed behind her with a click that sounded, to Norrington, like the lock in the cells down below. He walked to the window and poked at the shattered glass with a booted toe. It would need to be cleared up, he thought absently, before bending down and beginning to pick it up himself, ignoring the pain. In the red of the sunset, it was difficult to know where the glass ended and the blood on his hands began.
