Rusalka's ramblings

Looky here!  It's my first story in a shiny new fandom!

Thanks go to yahtzee63, who made me fix the plot, and to ndancer, who has now beta-read my stories, with infinite patience and skill, in four separate fandoms, only one of which she was actually involved in. 

A Halcyon Sea
A Pirates of the Caribbean fic by Mariner
Pairing: Norrington/OFC
Rating: PG
Summary: When James met Victoria...
AN: Written for mimesere's Mrs. Norrington challenge.  (Yes, I know the deadline was October 31; what's your point?)  So it's entirely her fault that I'm entering the fandom with an OFC romance that doesn't even have Jack Sparrow in it.  Way to build a reputation, Mariner.
Disclaimer: Disney owns everything related to Pirates of the Caribbean, which is worth a potload of money.  I own this story and Victoria Talbot, which is worth precisely zilch.

Anyhow, without further ado:



Chapter 1

"Miss Victoria Talbot to see you, sir."

"Thank you, Jennings."  James Norrington took one last weary look at the report he'd been reading and set it down on top of the pile of similar reports that threatened to engulf his desk.  "Talbot, you say?"  The name didn't sound at all familiar.  "She doesn't have an appointment, does she?"  That would be embarrassing.  Norrington wasn't usually given to forgetting names or appointments, but it had been a long day.

"I'm afraid not, sir."  Jennings looked vaguely apologetic.  "She arrived on the Alexandrina  this morning."

"Then show her in, by all means."  The Alexandrina was the first ship to arrive from England in over three months, and Port Royal was all abuzz over it.  The harbor turned into a fairground as local peddlers set out their wares near the docks to tempt the disembarking sailors, while the townspeople crowded the piers. Norrington had sent out double the usual contingent of Marines to look out for pickpockets and  keep the whores and brawlers in line, but he suspected it wouldn't do much good.  The town was much too full of high spirits.  A ship from England meant long-awaited visitors, letters and packages, goods for the local businesses -- all manner of excitement.

Unless one was the commodore, in which case it meant paperwork.  Norrington had met with Captain Sawyer earlier in the day and received a thick packet of Admiralty documents from London, along with a number of reports and dispatches from the Alexandrina's brief stop in Nassau, as well as from a number of ships she'd encountered during her journey.  He'd then spent the rest of the day sorting through endless -- and highly repetitive -- descriptions of increased Spanish activity in the waters around Jamaica.  He was more than ready for an interruption, as Jennings had no doubt anticipated when he'd decided to announce a visitor without an appointment.

And now he was ushering that visitor into the office, and Norrington had to tear his thoughts away from the joys of twenty-page coded dispatches and rise to his feet.

"Miss Talbot.  Welcome to Port Royal."

Victoria Talbot was clutching a bulky oilcloth-wrapped parcel that was obviously too cumbersome for her.  Jennings, walking behind her, looked deeply affronted at not being allowed to take charge of it.  Norrington moved to take it, and she dumped it into his arms with a relieved sigh.

"Thank you, Commodore.  I had promised not to put this into anyone's hands but your own, which was a little rash, now that I think of it.  But you can bear witness that I've kept my word."

"You certainly have."  Norrington set the parcel on the desk and bent to kiss Miss Talbot's hand.  He didn't have to bend far. She was nearly as tall as he was, and made to look even taller by a wide-brimmed bonnet that would probably be setting a new trend in Port Royal within days.  The face under the bonnet was of the sort that generally got described as "handsome," meaning just a little too long in the nose and too square in the jaw for prettiness. 

"I hope I'm not imposing," she said. "Perhaps I should've waited before coming to bother you, but I admit to being curious to meet you.  Your sister has told me so much about you."

"Oh?"  Norrington did his best not to look suspicious.  "Which sister?"

"Margaret."

That was all right, then.  "You're not imposing at all, Miss Talbot.  Do sit down.  Would you like some tea?  Jennings, some tea and biscuits, please."

He pushed a chair over, and Miss Talbot sank into it with an awkward totter, as if she was expecting it to move at the last moment.  It seemed that her sea legs hadn't quite reverted to land yet.

"You were afraid I was going to say Georgiana," she said, "weren't you?"

"The possibility had occurred to me," he admitted, "though I have trouble imagining any of Georgiana's friends setting one dainty foot on a ship, let alone undertaking an ocean crossing this early in the year."

"Much too crude for them," Miss Talbot agreed solemnly.  "Cramped cabins, terrible food, and absolutely no place to dance, anywhere.  Surely, no decent woman could endure it."

"Indeed."  Norrington recalled his younger sister's reaction to her one shipboard visit, the day before he sailed for the Caribbean.  The Dauntless had been docked at Portsmouth, on a day so fine and calm, the sea had looked like a mirror.  Yet Georgiana had clung to the railing as if she had expected to be pitched off her feet at any moment.  "And how are Margaret and George and the boys?"

"Very well, all of them.  I have letters for you from them, and from Georgiana, and from your parents.  They're all in that parcel, along with a present for you, which you really should unwrap now.  I have been instructed to watch you open it and to send back a detailed report of your reaction."

"Oh?"  Intrigued now, Norrington cut the string off the parcel with his pocketknife and peeled off the oilskin.  Inside was the promised bundle of family letters and a square wooden box with a hinged lid.  He raised the lid, noting as he did so that Miss Talbot was leaning forward with an expression of genuine curiosity on her face.

Inside the box was a foot-high replica of a ship of the line, clearly made by a child. The masts were just a little askew, little dabs of glue were visible at the seams, and the figurehead might have been a lion or a rhinoceros, but the sails and rigging were arranged properly enough, complete with skysails and jibs.  Norrington lifted it gently from the box and turned it around to see "Dauntless" inked in neat schoolboy letters on a strip across the stern.

"Oh my.  Did Henry make that all by himself?"

"I understand he had some help from the gardener.  And little Georgie made that... that clay thing on the front.  But mostly, yes, it was Henry.  It's meant to congratulate you on your promotion.  He was so excited when the news came.  Ran around for days, telling anyone who would listen that his uncle James was in charge of a whole squadron in Jamaica, and that he's going to go and join the Navy as soon as he's twelve.  Margaret says it's all your fault, corrupting the boy with letters full of storms and battles and chases after pirates."

"He's even painted the port-lids red on the inside."  James turned the ship from side to side, amused and touched at this evidence of hero-worship from a nephew he remembered only as an infant.  "It must've taken him days."

"Two weeks.  Oh, and I'm to tell you that if you turn the little wheel at the helm, the rudder will move."

Norrington turned the little wheel at the helm.  The rudder moved.  He did it again.

"I take it," Miss Talbot said, "that I can report the gift as a success?"

Norrington felt his face grow warm as he became aware of the picture he must've been presenting, sitting there grinning like an idiot, playing with a toy ship.

"You may tell Henry I'm very impressed with his workmanship," he said stiffly and carried the ship to the curio cabinet at the far side of the room, where he had to shift a giant nautilus shell and a small bronze Buddha in order to make space for it.  Miss Talbot watched him with amusement.

"Are you certain you want to lock it away so soon?" she asked.  "You might want to play some more."

He was saved from having to respond to that by the arrival of Jennings, who wheeled in a cart loaded not only with tea and biscuits but also sandwiches, scones and a little pot of clotted cream.  Norrington's stomach forcibly reminded him that he hadn't eaten since breakfast.  He waited for Miss Talbot to select a sandwich, then quickly claimed one for himself.

"So," he said, "tell me all the news I won't find in these letters."


* * * * *

Miss Talbot stayed for over an hour, going through two pots of tea as she entertained Norrington with tales of their mutual acquaintances in England.  She had a prodigious memory and a gift for mimicry.  Her impression of Georgiana discovering she'd accidentally snubbed an earl at a dinner party, delivered just as Norrington took a mouthful of tea, had him sputtering helplessly into his napkin.  Somewhere along the way, he changed his opinion of her looks.  She had a very pretty face, really; it only needed a smile to put everything into perfect proportion.

"And what about you?" he asked when she began to wind down.  "You've given me a decade's worth of gossip, and not a thing about yourself.  Surely you didn't come to the Caribbean merely to bring me a package.  Do you have family in Port Royal?"

"No, I'm here acting as secretary for my father, Sir Bartholomew Talbot.  We're going to continue on with Captain Sawyer."

"What, for the rest of his journey?"  Norrington couldn't quite keep his startled reaction out of his voice.  The Alexandrina was on her way to circumnavigating the globe -- a long, arduous and highly dangerous voyage that even experienced navy men didn't undertake lightly.  He couldn't imagine what would possess a father to drag his daughter along on such a trip. 

"I know what you're thinking," Miss Talbot said, "but Father was never the protective type, and really, what's the use of having a spinster daughter who takes shorthand if you can't put her to work?  Besides, I'm used to his ways, I can decipher his handwriting, and I have a decent knowledge of astronomy.  He couldn't possibly hire anyone more suitable for the job." 

Norrington reflected that being well-suited for a secretarial job would not keep one safe from pirates, or scurvy, or from storms in the Magellan Straits, or from savages in the Pacific Islands.  It was, unfortunately, none of his business, and Miss Talbot looked quite prepared to be offended if he pressed the point.  Norrington decided that a change of subject was in order.

"Your father is an astronomer, then?"

"Yes.  He has some ideas about determining longitude from lunar observations, but the star charts at the Royal Academy aren't precise enough for his calculations.  So he decided to go and make his own."

"What sort of method?" Norrington asked curiously.  Miss Talbot smiled and shook her head. 

"I'm afraid even I don't know the full details.  Father's very secretive about it.  There's a great deal of money involved, you know."

"Yes, of course.  The Longitude Prize."  Norrington, like any sailor worth his salt, followed the tales of that particular competition with intense curiosity.  Lunar methods were fashionable at the moment, he knew, though his own experience had proved them cumbersome and much too dependent on the weather.  "I wish you both luck, then."

"We'll need it," Miss Talbot said bluntly.  "We've got competition sailing right along with us.  Capain Sawyer is testing a new kind of clock that's supposed to keep perfect time at sea.  Some man named Harrison has built it in Lincolnshire, I gather."

"Oh?"  Norrington put his cup down.  "And how's that working?"

"Irritatingly well," Miss Talbot said wryly.  "It lost less than a minute on the trip from Portsmouth."

"Impressive."

"Yes.  Father is very put out."

Norrington watched her curiously.  "But you don't seem to be."

"I am, a little.  It would make Father happy to win the prize.  And the money would be great fun, of course.  But it's not as if we'll starve without it.  And in the end, the best man -- or clock -- will win, and I'll have traveled around the world.  How many people can say that?"

"Not many," Norrington admitted.  She looked so thrilled at the prospect that he found it difficult to hold on to his misgivings.  "I hope you find the world to your liking, Miss Talbot."

"Thank you," she said happily, "I know I will."

On to Chapter 2