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Mar. 2nd, 2004 11:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
marnanightingaleSparrington Part One: Title TBA
Explicit enough, methinks.
Thanks for Beta/Feedback:
webcrowmancer,
fairestcat
Especiallyq_skud_, for saving Theodore from open disgrace and me from anachronistic num-nums.
Additional Feedback: Yes, PLEASE! In detail.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Commandeered them, will give them a bath and return them after. If any of these fine sailing men objects to my characterizations, well, I of course speak under correction and I shall report myself to accept it bravely. :-)
Archive: Yes, sure, but do let me know, please.
Most people get love letters, he thought, absently pinching the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. Love letters, and flowers, and sometimes candy. I get gleanings from dispatches, and dockside gossip picked up on the street or filtered through my subordinates, and extravagant luxuries -- three cases of a port so old and fine that even an admiral's salary wouldn't rise to more than the odd bottle once or twice a year, last time -- acquired under circumstances I'm probably better off not knowing too much about. And shredded nerves. And, apparently, now that he has finally condescended to accept a full pardon and a letter of marque, I may occasionally expect to be offered bouquets of major strategic advantages. Splendid. Did I mention the shredded nerves?
He shook his head, put aside the last sheet, and applied himself grimly to a neglected pile of correspondence. When James thought he had recovered his usual noncommittal expression, he looked up to meet the eyes of his friend and second-in-command, who had been devoting himself with suspicious intensity to a pile of requisitions for some while now.
Gillette twisted his mouth into a sympathetic smirk and quirked a rueful eyebrow at his superior -- not entirely non-committal, then, for Andrew to allow himself to be so much the friend instead of the Lieutenant while on duty -- and said, “Did that ... particular dispatch happen to mention ... the news from New Orleans?”
“Oddly enough, Andrew, it did. In admittedly a good deal less detail than it apparently might have done.”
“I'll wager there's more detail in there than there is in Theo's last letter,” Gillette replied, folding the already slightly worn-looking piece of paper which had crept between his pocket and his desk several times since its arrival that morning and tucking it away again. “One page. And he found the space to rave about the food and to complain of the bugs. The name Lafitte comes up precisely once, in the course of an improbable-sounding story about several bottles of rum, the mistresses of three of the most powerful men in New Orleans, and a blacksmith's anvil.”
“No mention of sailing into the very middle of a boarding battle that should have been no concern of his, eh?” asked Norrington.
“Not the high point of his week, one gathers,” Andrew said, evenly. “Do those dispatches happen to say anything about why the captain of the Black Pearl might have been attacking Jean Lafitte in the man's own backyard?”
James exhaled forcefully through his nose. “Reading between the lines, I'd say the most popular theory is he's --”
“Captain Jack Sparrow?”
James tried and failed to conceal his grin. “I was going to say, barking mad.”
“And the difference is?”
James returned to the attack. “So, my friend, did that paragon of sanity Captain Groves happen to let drop any hint as to why, after sailing blithely into the middle of a battle which he ought not to have been anywhere near, blowing a hole in the side of Lafitte's ship, boarding her -- while she was afire and sinking -- in the company of said pirate and illustrious madman, and personally taking Lafitte captive, he and said Sparrow would then risk their lives and their crew's lives to rescue Lafitte's crew and, then rather than taking them to be tried and hanged, be so thoughtful as to “maroon” them on Galveston Island?
“He did not. Unless the anvil incident was related somehow. Which development I would not, frankly, put past either of them. I suppose we can't expect Jack to have any great enthusiasm for hangings, really.”
“And we know better by now than to expect Theo to restrain his, hmm, enthusiasm for legendary pirates,” added James, ruefully. “If I recall correctly, we dispatched Captain Groves to New Orleans, three months ago, with orders to part from his ship, leaving his lieutenant in command, make his way to the city, retrieve our man who has been representing himself as a disgraced sailor with a grudge looking for a berth on a ship hostile to the English, and who had gotten himself into a tight spot, gather as much information as possible about the locations and activities of French privateer vessels in the Gulf and the Caribbean, rejoin his ship, make his way back here and report, all without drawing attention to himself?”
“Well. You did tell him that in the event he were to feel he was in danger of exposure or was otherwise diverted from the original plan he was to use his initiative. Sir.”
"So I did. I note that Captain Lafitte, who we regarded as a very serious potential difficulty in the event of increased hostilities with the French, and who we understood to be in urgent negotiations with Louis' Governor, suddenly appears to have decided that he will not be sailing under a French flag, at least not this season. Nor, apparently, will any of the other ships whose captains' loyalty he is able to command.”
“Well. Next time, we should perhaps be less ready to underestimate the quantity of useful chaos our Theodore is capable of unleashing in the course of using his initiative.”
“Just so,” Norrington agreed. “It never would have occurred to me, for example, that he would persuade Jack, who, I note in passing, has half the freebooters and all of the French Navy stationed in and around New Orleans out for his blood, to say nothing of other parts of him, and who said he was taking the Pearl out on an 'easy little cruise' to locate a few new crew members and see about some repairs and refitting, to change his course and instead sail right into the middle of this insanity.”
Andrew affected a deeply outraged expression that dissolved into a wicked grin. “Commodore, are you accusing my naval officer of corrupting your pirate?”
He was rewarded by a snicker.
“So it would appear, Lieutenant.”
James's smile faded, and Andrew watched laughing green eyes grow suddenly bleak and cold, as the Commodore turned grimly back to the papers before him. Stifling a sigh, he did the same.
It was late in the day before James spoke again, and when he did, the ragged edge of his voice made Andrew flinch in sympathy.
“Dear God, Andrew. They did brilliantly. Theodore deserves a commendation, and Jack deserves ... whatever privateers get. And faced with this overabundant brilliance, handed a result beyond my wildest dreams, one that will save our ships and men untold risk, all I, whose clear duty it is to send the men under my command, not a single one of whom is any less, any less valuable to, to somebody, into hazards such as these every day of my life ... all I can think about is what might have gone wrong.”
He looked Gillette in the eye, took a deep breath, and blurted “God help me, Andrew, was I right all along? Is this what," he searched for a word that might not betray him utterly, cautious even now, "is this what caring for someone does to a man?”
Gillette said carefully, “It is, well, it is one of the things it can do. I think," he corrected himself, "I used to think that it would be -- somewhat easier if I had been the sort of man who might marry.”
“Ah, yes. A proper Naval wife. Someone to whom I could give my heart and an appropriate portion of my attention. Someone who it would be my right and my duty to protect. To cherish, and to shelter from the harsher realities of life. Someone who I could, in the utmost case, lock up.”
Gillette allowed himself a quick grin at the vehement sincerity of that last, then said “Ah. Like the former Miss Swann, then.”
“Mrs Turner is ... still quite young. And has been much-indulged, first by her father and now, by her devoted husband. Naturally, she is high-spirited,” James said stiffly. “No doubt time and trouble will tame her considerably.”
Gillette laughed in his face. “For her sake, and for the sake of all those who care for her, James, I most devoutly hope not.” At James's startled look, he went on, more soberly, “She didn't run away to sea, James, though I admit she took to it as if she had been waiting all of her young life for such a chance. She was taken, as women have been taken before and will be taken again. I try not to think of what would have happened to her had she been a quiet, biddable sort of maid, or if she had lost her head. Just as I try not to dwell on the fates of some of the other women of Port Royal, that night. And there is always childbirth, disease, accident. There is precious little safety in this life, James.”
James averted his eyes, and rose to pace over to the window. Hands clasped behind his back and gaze fixed firmly on the horizon, he was silent for a long time. Finally, still staring out the window, he said abruptly,
“All my life, I've seen the sailors' women come down to the docks. They're there when we sail, and they're there when we return, to collect their men. In whatever condition the sea chooses to send them back ... when it sends them back at all. I used to take the smiles, and the laughter and the pretty clothes and carefree airs for granted...“
Andrew waited, silent.
Finally James, still gazing sightlessly at the horizon, said, “Andrew? How do y-- how do they... how does a person...?”
Andrew said quietly, “You want to know how Theodore and I have managed all these years.”
James took a deep breath and turned around, solemn eyes meeting Andrew's, immeasurably relieved to see no pity, there, but only a depth of understanding that allowed him to finally say, “ Well. Yes, please. If you...”
“Not always very well, in truth. Though" he mused,"we always had to hide. Everything, not just our fears. In a strange way, it helped. It helped ... almost too much. We got very good at hiding our emotions, at hiding our true selves. We hid from you, my friend, for too many years. And we hid from one another, you know? Did we seem brave to you?
“We were cowards, James. All that time, we played our parts so well that I think each of us truly believed that if we were to be killed, it would mean no more to the other than the inconvenience of finding a new ... playmate. I cannot tell you how I regret that I allowed Theo to believe this for so long, nor how grateful I am that he finally had the courage to bring an end to our little comedy.”
Andrew paused, remembering, and then continued: “But it is not about how to hide your fears and feelings from the rest of the world that you need to ask me, eh, my friend? Not Commodore James Norrington, the so-cold pirate hunter. It is about facing them, and not allowing them to destroy you, or him, or what you have found together, yes?”
James flushed crimson, but held Andrew's gaze steadily. “I thought I had already accepted it. Had learned to let go. I know that it would be fatal to try to cage him; he came into my life of his own accord, and he must be free to come and go as he pleases. I thought at first that he would quickly tire of me, that this was only a light, little amusement. I never, for a moment, thought that he would be ... physically faithful. It never seemed important, in truth.
"You were wise in that", said Andrew softly. "We were a long time to come to that."
"I know sailors," James said dryly. "And I know Jack."
"And when one must be discreet, as we must..." Andrew's eyes were thoughtful. "You've seen men broken for this, James, we both have, and counted them fortunate to escape so lightly. The Navy may not care to go out of its way to see us swing, but we won't last long if we make ourselves a public spectacle, or if our private affections affect the performance of our duty. And to be jealous, to be possessive... it is the surest way to discovery and to that sordid ending, is it not? But there is more to it than that."
"I know" said James. "It's not a marriage, what we have. It never can be, and it will never answer to try to force it to that shape. If I have been continent enough in his absences, it is long habit and a disinclination to spur gossip, nothing else.
"All of that, which I once thought would be impossible, intolerable ... all that, I accept. But to live each day wondering, knowing how casually he could be taken from me ... Andrew, how do you let him do it?”
“Let Theo run the same risks that you and I do?” asked Andrew dryly, though his eyes were still kind. “James, how do you suggest I stop him? He is a man, a Captain in the Royal Navy, and he takes a man's chance, for duty and for glory, as he must. As we all must. And if I could stop him, well. He is a man under your command, and I think I am not too partial when I say he is a credit to us. Would you be pleased to have to spare him?”
“No” James answered lowly, turning again to the window. “I would not. Any more than I could spare you for his sake, or Harris for the sake of his young daughter, or ... I know I am foolish, Andrew.”
“Not foolish,” Andrew said gently. He paused, then continued, “But you fell in love -- do not start so, it is as plain as plain -- with a man, James, a hard man and a sailor. As did I.
“All we can do is trust them to make their choices, and to look after themselves. And we can at least thank le bon Dieu that we both had the good luck and sense to be chosen by men who know their business well. You have tamed your sparrow, my friend, but he would be no safer were you to clip his wings and leave him defenseless, even would he let you. Kinder to have hanged him at the first than to try to geld him."
Andrew moved to the window, and took his friend by the shoulder, tugging until James turned to face him. He used a single finger to urge James's gaze upwards until he could see his eyes, and said softly, “So the only choice you must make, my friend, is this: is he worth the price, James? Or would you rather lose him now, to be perhaps spared a greater pain later?”
And was answered by a fleeting smile of heart-wrenching sweetness. “Oh, yes, Andrew. He is. He is. Worth anything.”
"So, then."
James sighed, still troubled. “But how can you bear it so lightly?”
“Lightly? Never that,” Andrew replied. “I hope I have learnt to bear it with some grace, yes. At least as much courage as the youngest and flightiest wife on the docks learned at her mother's knee, I can make myself have. Or at worst, I can pretend. I am more fortunate than they; much of the time, until Theo got his own command, we could contrive to face whatever came together. At least, going into battle with one's lover, one knows, and is too busy to fret. Even now, we are not separated like this so very often. But it does happen. We accept it as part of the price we pay. And it does become easier, somewhat. One learns, above all, that life cannot stop merely because one's reason for living is away and in peril. I have work of my own, friends, amusements. Sometimes, other lovers. He as well. But never, never has it become easy. It has merely continued, sometimes to my astonishment, to be possible.
“And I tell you true, James, when he gets home after this episode, well...”
James surprised them both with a bark of laughter. “Don't worry, my friend. I won't expect to see either of you for at least a day after Theo turns in his report. And,” he grinned wickedly, “I shan't again make the mistake of offering Theo a chair as soon as I do see him, either.”
Andrew flushed, but there was amused memory in his eyes as he said, between chuckles, “Ah, yes. He was hard-put to find a reason to refuse such a signal honour, even if he had had his noonday meal from the mantel.”
For a time both men sat, lost in memory and anticipation, until Andrew broke the silence. “Well, at least we're done with these blasted papers for the day, I think.” At James's nod, he continued “So, tell me, James, how were you planning to spend this lovely evening?”
James cleared his throat. “Well. Reprehensibly, I'm afraid. I'm planning to make my way over to the house of a good friend who's been altogether too much on his own of late, with a couple of bottles of some rather fine port which, erm, fell into my hands recently, and persuade him to get dreadfully drunk with me."
Andrew's eyes sharpened. “I recall that port, James, and it's the finest I've ever tasted. I fail to see what is so reprehensible about this plan, barring the fact that you and your friend are likely to be still sleeping it off when the bells ring for church in the morning. What am I missing?”
James flushed, but his eyes met Andrew's steadily as he said baldly, “The fact that I have every intention of taking advantage of his loneliness and the understandable tension he has been under of late, as well as the drunken condition that I shall have led him into, of repaying his endless, patient willingness to listen to me rant and rave -- I have every intention of shamelessly using whatever means occur to me to persuade him upstairs,” James's eyes glittered as he went on, “strip him of his clothes, bend him over his own desk, and use, among other persuasions so base and debauched I should blush to detail them, the flat of my hand on his arse until he is reduced to such a state that he is prepared to shriek and beg me to loosen my breeches, slide my prick into him, and release my... various frustrations .. in the most satisfying manner imaginable by pounding him insensible.”
Andrew's face remained impassive during this recital, but there was as much heat as humour in his eyes as he said, “Well, James, I can hardly deny that that does sound a thoroughly roguish scheme. Extensive exposure to the ways of pirates does seem to have, ah, coarsened your gentlemanly impulses. I suppose as your friend, I ought to remonstrate with you for the sake of your soul, but," he drew a deep breath, "I seem to find myself quite lacking in moral authority. ”
At James's startled expression, Andrew quirked his mouth and continued in a deeper, more melting tone, “You see, except for the fact that I had thought to use brandy, and the difficulty that you are altogether too long in the leg to go over a desk at all comfortably for anyone, my thoughts of what might prove a pleasant evening were ... remarkably similar to yours.”
Andrew let a cold note of authority that he had ever before been most discreet about using around the Commodore creep into his voice as he pushed himself out of his chair and stalked panther-like to stand over James, trapping him by resting his hands on the chair arms. He brought his lips to within a whisper of James's and whispered “And, Commodore? I. Don't. Beg.”
James took a deep, slightly shaky breath, feeling something deep inside of him begin to uncoil and melt, but as his eyes widened the scent of Andrew's aroused body washed over him and he felt his nostrils flare and heard the other man's sharp intake of breath as he met that blue-eyed predatory gaze with a fierce green one of his own.
“Fight faithfully and not cry for quarter? No need to think of mercy, then,” he said, and saw the flush that mantled Andrew's cheeks as that struck home.
Andrew recovered slightly and took a courteous few steps back, fetching up leaning negligently against the edge of the desk, to allow James to rise. His eyes flickered in surprise as James came up out of the chair in one smooth, powerful movement, only to glide back to within kissing distance and add in a low growl that seemed to Andrew to slide straight down his spine,
“I don't beg either.”
Kissing distance and closer than kissing distance, Andrew realised -- where did he learn how to play this game? -- as he realized that James, with his advantage of height, was now looking down into his eyes with an expression of cold hunger that made him shudder slightly, realizing only as he did so that James's straddling legs had brought their groins so close together that their now-straining members were as barely separated as their hips; he swore he could feel the pulse of James's shaft answer his own just as keenly as he could feel the heat of that enticing, dangerous mouth in the breath which washed over his lips. Any sound or movement on the part of either of them, beyond the lightest breath, would register instantly on the other, would be the beginnings of surrender, would be instantly and mercilessly exploited.
They hung there, teeth bared, eyes clashing like bright swords at sunset, two hunters evenly matched, swinging on the edge between the pleasure of power and the power of pleasure, until snarls became grins, and grins became rueful chuckles and surprisingly sweet kisses.
Eventually, they tossed a shilling in the air.
Explicit enough, methinks.
Thanks for Beta/Feedback:
webcrowmancer,fairestcatEspecially
q_skud_, for saving Theodore from open disgrace and me from anachronistic num-nums.Additional Feedback: Yes, PLEASE! In detail.
Disclaimer: They're not mine. Commandeered them, will give them a bath and return them after. If any of these fine sailing men objects to my characterizations, well, I of course speak under correction and I shall report myself to accept it bravely. :-)
Archive: Yes, sure, but do let me know, please.
Most people get love letters, he thought, absently pinching the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb. Love letters, and flowers, and sometimes candy. I get gleanings from dispatches, and dockside gossip picked up on the street or filtered through my subordinates, and extravagant luxuries -- three cases of a port so old and fine that even an admiral's salary wouldn't rise to more than the odd bottle once or twice a year, last time -- acquired under circumstances I'm probably better off not knowing too much about. And shredded nerves. And, apparently, now that he has finally condescended to accept a full pardon and a letter of marque, I may occasionally expect to be offered bouquets of major strategic advantages. Splendid. Did I mention the shredded nerves?
He shook his head, put aside the last sheet, and applied himself grimly to a neglected pile of correspondence. When James thought he had recovered his usual noncommittal expression, he looked up to meet the eyes of his friend and second-in-command, who had been devoting himself with suspicious intensity to a pile of requisitions for some while now.
Gillette twisted his mouth into a sympathetic smirk and quirked a rueful eyebrow at his superior -- not entirely non-committal, then, for Andrew to allow himself to be so much the friend instead of the Lieutenant while on duty -- and said, “Did that ... particular dispatch happen to mention ... the news from New Orleans?”
“Oddly enough, Andrew, it did. In admittedly a good deal less detail than it apparently might have done.”
“I'll wager there's more detail in there than there is in Theo's last letter,” Gillette replied, folding the already slightly worn-looking piece of paper which had crept between his pocket and his desk several times since its arrival that morning and tucking it away again. “One page. And he found the space to rave about the food and to complain of the bugs. The name Lafitte comes up precisely once, in the course of an improbable-sounding story about several bottles of rum, the mistresses of three of the most powerful men in New Orleans, and a blacksmith's anvil.”
“No mention of sailing into the very middle of a boarding battle that should have been no concern of his, eh?” asked Norrington.
“Not the high point of his week, one gathers,” Andrew said, evenly. “Do those dispatches happen to say anything about why the captain of the Black Pearl might have been attacking Jean Lafitte in the man's own backyard?”
James exhaled forcefully through his nose. “Reading between the lines, I'd say the most popular theory is he's --”
“Captain Jack Sparrow?”
James tried and failed to conceal his grin. “I was going to say, barking mad.”
“And the difference is?”
James returned to the attack. “So, my friend, did that paragon of sanity Captain Groves happen to let drop any hint as to why, after sailing blithely into the middle of a battle which he ought not to have been anywhere near, blowing a hole in the side of Lafitte's ship, boarding her -- while she was afire and sinking -- in the company of said pirate and illustrious madman, and personally taking Lafitte captive, he and said Sparrow would then risk their lives and their crew's lives to rescue Lafitte's crew and, then rather than taking them to be tried and hanged, be so thoughtful as to “maroon” them on Galveston Island?
“He did not. Unless the anvil incident was related somehow. Which development I would not, frankly, put past either of them. I suppose we can't expect Jack to have any great enthusiasm for hangings, really.”
“And we know better by now than to expect Theo to restrain his, hmm, enthusiasm for legendary pirates,” added James, ruefully. “If I recall correctly, we dispatched Captain Groves to New Orleans, three months ago, with orders to part from his ship, leaving his lieutenant in command, make his way to the city, retrieve our man who has been representing himself as a disgraced sailor with a grudge looking for a berth on a ship hostile to the English, and who had gotten himself into a tight spot, gather as much information as possible about the locations and activities of French privateer vessels in the Gulf and the Caribbean, rejoin his ship, make his way back here and report, all without drawing attention to himself?”
“Well. You did tell him that in the event he were to feel he was in danger of exposure or was otherwise diverted from the original plan he was to use his initiative. Sir.”
"So I did. I note that Captain Lafitte, who we regarded as a very serious potential difficulty in the event of increased hostilities with the French, and who we understood to be in urgent negotiations with Louis' Governor, suddenly appears to have decided that he will not be sailing under a French flag, at least not this season. Nor, apparently, will any of the other ships whose captains' loyalty he is able to command.”
“Well. Next time, we should perhaps be less ready to underestimate the quantity of useful chaos our Theodore is capable of unleashing in the course of using his initiative.”
“Just so,” Norrington agreed. “It never would have occurred to me, for example, that he would persuade Jack, who, I note in passing, has half the freebooters and all of the French Navy stationed in and around New Orleans out for his blood, to say nothing of other parts of him, and who said he was taking the Pearl out on an 'easy little cruise' to locate a few new crew members and see about some repairs and refitting, to change his course and instead sail right into the middle of this insanity.”
Andrew affected a deeply outraged expression that dissolved into a wicked grin. “Commodore, are you accusing my naval officer of corrupting your pirate?”
He was rewarded by a snicker.
“So it would appear, Lieutenant.”
James's smile faded, and Andrew watched laughing green eyes grow suddenly bleak and cold, as the Commodore turned grimly back to the papers before him. Stifling a sigh, he did the same.
It was late in the day before James spoke again, and when he did, the ragged edge of his voice made Andrew flinch in sympathy.
“Dear God, Andrew. They did brilliantly. Theodore deserves a commendation, and Jack deserves ... whatever privateers get. And faced with this overabundant brilliance, handed a result beyond my wildest dreams, one that will save our ships and men untold risk, all I, whose clear duty it is to send the men under my command, not a single one of whom is any less, any less valuable to, to somebody, into hazards such as these every day of my life ... all I can think about is what might have gone wrong.”
He looked Gillette in the eye, took a deep breath, and blurted “God help me, Andrew, was I right all along? Is this what," he searched for a word that might not betray him utterly, cautious even now, "is this what caring for someone does to a man?”
Gillette said carefully, “It is, well, it is one of the things it can do. I think," he corrected himself, "I used to think that it would be -- somewhat easier if I had been the sort of man who might marry.”
“Ah, yes. A proper Naval wife. Someone to whom I could give my heart and an appropriate portion of my attention. Someone who it would be my right and my duty to protect. To cherish, and to shelter from the harsher realities of life. Someone who I could, in the utmost case, lock up.”
Gillette allowed himself a quick grin at the vehement sincerity of that last, then said “Ah. Like the former Miss Swann, then.”
“Mrs Turner is ... still quite young. And has been much-indulged, first by her father and now, by her devoted husband. Naturally, she is high-spirited,” James said stiffly. “No doubt time and trouble will tame her considerably.”
Gillette laughed in his face. “For her sake, and for the sake of all those who care for her, James, I most devoutly hope not.” At James's startled look, he went on, more soberly, “She didn't run away to sea, James, though I admit she took to it as if she had been waiting all of her young life for such a chance. She was taken, as women have been taken before and will be taken again. I try not to think of what would have happened to her had she been a quiet, biddable sort of maid, or if she had lost her head. Just as I try not to dwell on the fates of some of the other women of Port Royal, that night. And there is always childbirth, disease, accident. There is precious little safety in this life, James.”
James averted his eyes, and rose to pace over to the window. Hands clasped behind his back and gaze fixed firmly on the horizon, he was silent for a long time. Finally, still staring out the window, he said abruptly,
“All my life, I've seen the sailors' women come down to the docks. They're there when we sail, and they're there when we return, to collect their men. In whatever condition the sea chooses to send them back ... when it sends them back at all. I used to take the smiles, and the laughter and the pretty clothes and carefree airs for granted...“
Andrew waited, silent.
Finally James, still gazing sightlessly at the horizon, said, “Andrew? How do y-- how do they... how does a person...?”
Andrew said quietly, “You want to know how Theodore and I have managed all these years.”
James took a deep breath and turned around, solemn eyes meeting Andrew's, immeasurably relieved to see no pity, there, but only a depth of understanding that allowed him to finally say, “ Well. Yes, please. If you...”
“Not always very well, in truth. Though" he mused,"we always had to hide. Everything, not just our fears. In a strange way, it helped. It helped ... almost too much. We got very good at hiding our emotions, at hiding our true selves. We hid from you, my friend, for too many years. And we hid from one another, you know? Did we seem brave to you?
“We were cowards, James. All that time, we played our parts so well that I think each of us truly believed that if we were to be killed, it would mean no more to the other than the inconvenience of finding a new ... playmate. I cannot tell you how I regret that I allowed Theo to believe this for so long, nor how grateful I am that he finally had the courage to bring an end to our little comedy.”
Andrew paused, remembering, and then continued: “But it is not about how to hide your fears and feelings from the rest of the world that you need to ask me, eh, my friend? Not Commodore James Norrington, the so-cold pirate hunter. It is about facing them, and not allowing them to destroy you, or him, or what you have found together, yes?”
James flushed crimson, but held Andrew's gaze steadily. “I thought I had already accepted it. Had learned to let go. I know that it would be fatal to try to cage him; he came into my life of his own accord, and he must be free to come and go as he pleases. I thought at first that he would quickly tire of me, that this was only a light, little amusement. I never, for a moment, thought that he would be ... physically faithful. It never seemed important, in truth.
"You were wise in that", said Andrew softly. "We were a long time to come to that."
"I know sailors," James said dryly. "And I know Jack."
"And when one must be discreet, as we must..." Andrew's eyes were thoughtful. "You've seen men broken for this, James, we both have, and counted them fortunate to escape so lightly. The Navy may not care to go out of its way to see us swing, but we won't last long if we make ourselves a public spectacle, or if our private affections affect the performance of our duty. And to be jealous, to be possessive... it is the surest way to discovery and to that sordid ending, is it not? But there is more to it than that."
"I know" said James. "It's not a marriage, what we have. It never can be, and it will never answer to try to force it to that shape. If I have been continent enough in his absences, it is long habit and a disinclination to spur gossip, nothing else.
"All of that, which I once thought would be impossible, intolerable ... all that, I accept. But to live each day wondering, knowing how casually he could be taken from me ... Andrew, how do you let him do it?”
“Let Theo run the same risks that you and I do?” asked Andrew dryly, though his eyes were still kind. “James, how do you suggest I stop him? He is a man, a Captain in the Royal Navy, and he takes a man's chance, for duty and for glory, as he must. As we all must. And if I could stop him, well. He is a man under your command, and I think I am not too partial when I say he is a credit to us. Would you be pleased to have to spare him?”
“No” James answered lowly, turning again to the window. “I would not. Any more than I could spare you for his sake, or Harris for the sake of his young daughter, or ... I know I am foolish, Andrew.”
“Not foolish,” Andrew said gently. He paused, then continued, “But you fell in love -- do not start so, it is as plain as plain -- with a man, James, a hard man and a sailor. As did I.
“All we can do is trust them to make their choices, and to look after themselves. And we can at least thank le bon Dieu that we both had the good luck and sense to be chosen by men who know their business well. You have tamed your sparrow, my friend, but he would be no safer were you to clip his wings and leave him defenseless, even would he let you. Kinder to have hanged him at the first than to try to geld him."
Andrew moved to the window, and took his friend by the shoulder, tugging until James turned to face him. He used a single finger to urge James's gaze upwards until he could see his eyes, and said softly, “So the only choice you must make, my friend, is this: is he worth the price, James? Or would you rather lose him now, to be perhaps spared a greater pain later?”
And was answered by a fleeting smile of heart-wrenching sweetness. “Oh, yes, Andrew. He is. He is. Worth anything.”
"So, then."
James sighed, still troubled. “But how can you bear it so lightly?”
“Lightly? Never that,” Andrew replied. “I hope I have learnt to bear it with some grace, yes. At least as much courage as the youngest and flightiest wife on the docks learned at her mother's knee, I can make myself have. Or at worst, I can pretend. I am more fortunate than they; much of the time, until Theo got his own command, we could contrive to face whatever came together. At least, going into battle with one's lover, one knows, and is too busy to fret. Even now, we are not separated like this so very often. But it does happen. We accept it as part of the price we pay. And it does become easier, somewhat. One learns, above all, that life cannot stop merely because one's reason for living is away and in peril. I have work of my own, friends, amusements. Sometimes, other lovers. He as well. But never, never has it become easy. It has merely continued, sometimes to my astonishment, to be possible.
“And I tell you true, James, when he gets home after this episode, well...”
James surprised them both with a bark of laughter. “Don't worry, my friend. I won't expect to see either of you for at least a day after Theo turns in his report. And,” he grinned wickedly, “I shan't again make the mistake of offering Theo a chair as soon as I do see him, either.”
Andrew flushed, but there was amused memory in his eyes as he said, between chuckles, “Ah, yes. He was hard-put to find a reason to refuse such a signal honour, even if he had had his noonday meal from the mantel.”
For a time both men sat, lost in memory and anticipation, until Andrew broke the silence. “Well, at least we're done with these blasted papers for the day, I think.” At James's nod, he continued “So, tell me, James, how were you planning to spend this lovely evening?”
James cleared his throat. “Well. Reprehensibly, I'm afraid. I'm planning to make my way over to the house of a good friend who's been altogether too much on his own of late, with a couple of bottles of some rather fine port which, erm, fell into my hands recently, and persuade him to get dreadfully drunk with me."
Andrew's eyes sharpened. “I recall that port, James, and it's the finest I've ever tasted. I fail to see what is so reprehensible about this plan, barring the fact that you and your friend are likely to be still sleeping it off when the bells ring for church in the morning. What am I missing?”
James flushed, but his eyes met Andrew's steadily as he said baldly, “The fact that I have every intention of taking advantage of his loneliness and the understandable tension he has been under of late, as well as the drunken condition that I shall have led him into, of repaying his endless, patient willingness to listen to me rant and rave -- I have every intention of shamelessly using whatever means occur to me to persuade him upstairs,” James's eyes glittered as he went on, “strip him of his clothes, bend him over his own desk, and use, among other persuasions so base and debauched I should blush to detail them, the flat of my hand on his arse until he is reduced to such a state that he is prepared to shriek and beg me to loosen my breeches, slide my prick into him, and release my... various frustrations .. in the most satisfying manner imaginable by pounding him insensible.”
Andrew's face remained impassive during this recital, but there was as much heat as humour in his eyes as he said, “Well, James, I can hardly deny that that does sound a thoroughly roguish scheme. Extensive exposure to the ways of pirates does seem to have, ah, coarsened your gentlemanly impulses. I suppose as your friend, I ought to remonstrate with you for the sake of your soul, but," he drew a deep breath, "I seem to find myself quite lacking in moral authority. ”
At James's startled expression, Andrew quirked his mouth and continued in a deeper, more melting tone, “You see, except for the fact that I had thought to use brandy, and the difficulty that you are altogether too long in the leg to go over a desk at all comfortably for anyone, my thoughts of what might prove a pleasant evening were ... remarkably similar to yours.”
Andrew let a cold note of authority that he had ever before been most discreet about using around the Commodore creep into his voice as he pushed himself out of his chair and stalked panther-like to stand over James, trapping him by resting his hands on the chair arms. He brought his lips to within a whisper of James's and whispered “And, Commodore? I. Don't. Beg.”
James took a deep, slightly shaky breath, feeling something deep inside of him begin to uncoil and melt, but as his eyes widened the scent of Andrew's aroused body washed over him and he felt his nostrils flare and heard the other man's sharp intake of breath as he met that blue-eyed predatory gaze with a fierce green one of his own.
“Fight faithfully and not cry for quarter? No need to think of mercy, then,” he said, and saw the flush that mantled Andrew's cheeks as that struck home.
Andrew recovered slightly and took a courteous few steps back, fetching up leaning negligently against the edge of the desk, to allow James to rise. His eyes flickered in surprise as James came up out of the chair in one smooth, powerful movement, only to glide back to within kissing distance and add in a low growl that seemed to Andrew to slide straight down his spine,
“I don't beg either.”
Kissing distance and closer than kissing distance, Andrew realised -- where did he learn how to play this game? -- as he realized that James, with his advantage of height, was now looking down into his eyes with an expression of cold hunger that made him shudder slightly, realizing only as he did so that James's straddling legs had brought their groins so close together that their now-straining members were as barely separated as their hips; he swore he could feel the pulse of James's shaft answer his own just as keenly as he could feel the heat of that enticing, dangerous mouth in the breath which washed over his lips. Any sound or movement on the part of either of them, beyond the lightest breath, would register instantly on the other, would be the beginnings of surrender, would be instantly and mercilessly exploited.
They hung there, teeth bared, eyes clashing like bright swords at sunset, two hunters evenly matched, swinging on the edge between the pleasure of power and the power of pleasure, until snarls became grins, and grins became rueful chuckles and surprisingly sweet kisses.
Eventually, they tossed a shilling in the air.
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no subject
Date: 2004-03-03 03:26 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2004-03-03 07:21 pm (UTC)Glad you liked. The next one I think will qualify me for some serious blacklistin'.
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Date: 2004-08-12 07:29 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-20 03:39 pm (UTC)