Chapter Text
It had been a lively day in Port Royal. People curiously gathered at the harbour while men clad in red uniforms of the Royal Navy were running back and forth. The preparations mostly went as planned, though several curious civilians had managed to sneak their way into the harbour despite numerous warnings. The marines eventually turned a blind eye, for the celebration was too grand to care for trifles.
Elsewhere, Commodore James Norrington looked down at his uniform, then swept off a speck of dust from the sleeve. Today’s celebration was more than familiar for him, one that he had led many times before; yet, no matter how many times he participated, excited trembles of his chest would never die down. He enjoyed the feeling. After all, it was his passion that had led him to join the Royal Navy in the first place.
“Is everything ready?” He asked one of the servants.
“Yes, sir. The carriage is waiting outside.” The servant bowed his head in approval.
“Very well.”
After making sure he looked flawless, James stepped out of the residence – a rather smart, nicely located building, large enough for five people to live in. He entered the carriage and it rode down the streets, towards the harbour, drawing in curious gazes of the civilians. For some reason, he preferred not to meet those gazes. The misery and pain were so common in this world, and despite his best intentions he couldn’t allow them to interfere with his duty.
Successful, high in rank, surrounded by faithful subordinates and numerous servants at his every command. With everything – well, almost everything – he could possibly wish for, James Norrington considered himself a happy man, most of the time.
“I, hereby, name you the Sunset, for you to light our way to serve the King. May this ship bring glory to the Crown and make us proud of boarding it. May it sail on the seven seas to our honour long after we draw our last breath.”
Loud applause; ropes were loosened and the craft landed in the water with a graceful splash. Women gasped in awe and men whistled in admiration, but it was only after looking at the ship when one realised their reaction was fully justified. It looked absolutely breathtaking, its sails preening in the sunlight like feathers of a swan. James allowed a shadow of a smile to dance on his lips. He felt an irrational rush of pride, as though the Sunset was his own creation. In some way, it was now. It was under his command and he was going to make it part of his cause.
A few assigned men boarded the ship to let it boast around the waters for a while longer. People dispersed, be it for loss of interest or to see the ship from another part of the town.
“Sir,” a marine approached James once the commotion had quietened down. “Shall we move to Fort Charles now?”
“Yes, let us march there. Join the others,” he dismissed the man.
Before leaving to lead the forces, James cast one last glance at the harbour.
“Bring me joy, Sunset.”
The march in itself was somewhat of a demonstration, as usual, to show off to the civilians, to make them realise the power of the British army. As James guided the men through the main street, people would timidly step aside; not a hush was heard, not a cough. Everyone’s eyes were on them, taking in the glory and the duty that accompanied.
Then a party at the fort followed, marines and civilians alike, to celebrate the newest addition to the Royal Navy. Several people presented a speech, adding to the formality, and finally, James thanked the shipwright, before also receiving congratulations of his own.
“Let us enjoy this great day. Thank you.”
The last round of applause became a start of the social side of the celebration. Drinks and snacks were distributed; the royalty engaged with each other, avoiding the ones who did not exactly fit in and mostly came for the food, but were allowed nonetheless. Gossip, small talk – that was the reality of those of high status. Their everyday life.
Sipping alcohol from his glass, James strayed from the crowd to look at the Sunset once more. Approaching the wall of the fort, where the sea could be seen, he took a deep breath, letting the refreshing scent of the air fill his lungs.
And then he noticed someone else there.
It could have easily been a dainty man, but upon closer look, he noticed that it was, in fact, a woman in men’s clothing. She sat on the edge of the wall, hair almost completely hidden in a hat, white collar of a shirt peeking from beneath a dark vest, and baggy trousers stuck into black high boots. What an unusual encounter. Curiously, he stepped closer.
No reaction; it appeared as though she hadn’t noticed him at all. But then the woman spoke up, nonchalantly as if to no one in particular, with him being the only one who could hear her words.
“Such a beautiful ship.”
Melodic, pleasant voice. Though he couldn’t see her face, he imagined an owner of such a voice must have been of young age. The idea seemingly collided with her attire – surely, a girl like her could not be leading a life of stalwart men?
Discarding those presumptions, James cleared his throat. “Yes, indeed it is.”
“Do you enjoy sailing, Commodore?”
The question took him aback, though not in an unwanted way. He was reminded of all the crafts he’d boarded, of all the hardships he’d gone through to reach where he was now. Good old times, and good old today.
“I do.” He smiled, though she was not looking at him. “What about you, miss? You’re a sailor, aren’t you?”
This was when the woman finally turned to look at him. Despite the hat, her hair was messed up by the wind, and her eyes twinkled in the shadow cast by the brim. He had been correct; she couldn’t have been older than twenty. Her face was rather beautiful, even elegant, regardless of the rough outfit she was wearing. He’d never seen anyone like her, she seemed so different to the aristocrat society with all of its ups and downs.
She extended her hand to him – to shake it, much like a man would.
“Y/N L/N. I just arrived to Port Royal today. I’m a traveller.”
Despite himself, James took her hand and shook it. He should have kissed it, probably, but it hadn’t occurred to him at the time. She didn’t seem to mind.
“Commodore James Norrington, at your service.”
“It is rather new to me, all of this.” Y/N adjusted her posture, looking far in the distance. “The formality, the ceremony. I’ve been to thousands of places, but it’s the first time that I’ve witnessed such a spectacle.”
“Did you enjoy it?” Asked James, cautiously, almost as if the foreignness would scare the woman off. “Or rather, are you?” She only laughed – an honest, carefree laugh gone with the wind as soon as it appeared.
“I most definitely am, even if I can’t understand it. That’s the exciting thing in life, isn’t it, Commodore? You never know what’s going to happen.”
He wasn’t sure what to say to that, so a nod was his only response. At first, Y/N looked rather rough around the edges, only a few levels above nasty sailors who could drink all day and spoke foul words every other sentence. But the more she talked, the more that seemed like a mask, a disguise worn to be taken seriously by the people who wouldn’t ever listen to a fair lady in a pretty dress. Who was she really? What had brought her to Port Royal?
He didn’t ask.
“I rather like it here,” Y/N spoke up again, this time turning her gaze at him. “Perhaps I should stay for a while. The town is beautiful, the ships are magnificent and the people are nice.” The corner of her lips trembled playfully.
“Where are you going to stay?” An image of filthy inns full of despicable men flickered in James’s mind. For some reason he was sure that Y/N was all too used to those, and yet he couldn’t help but feel dread at the mere thought.
Before she could open her mouth, he added:
“Forgive my boldness, but I have plenty of room in my residence.”
Y/N chuckled, eyes widening slightly. “Oh, but Commodore. You don’t know me. Or do you always invite strangers from across the sea as soon as they set foot in your town?”
Though there was a sign of mockery in her voice, James wasn’t dismayed. “We are hospitable men, Miss L/N. It must be hard, to be alone in a place far away from home, with no one to turn to. Please consider my suggestion.”
She smiled, a somewhat shy smile as her eyes flickered towards the sea, towards the magnificent Sunset in its full glory. Then, she jumped to her feet, revealing that she was at least a head shorter than he was.
“Thank you, Commodore, I really appreciate your invitation.” She looked up at him. “But I am a free spirit, a wanderer. Luxuries and mansions are not for me. I shall stay in Port Royal – on my own terms.”
With that, she spun around and flashed him a smile, before leaving the fort and disappearing from his sight.
James stared there for a while, almost as if trying to burn her image into his mind. Then he finished his drink.
“Sir, who was she?” A marine approached him, looking rather curious about his superior’s acquaintances.
He couldn’t help looking once again in the direction where she’d left.
“A free spirit.”