FicWad

"Morning," Mariah said as she let herself through the Turner's gate into their small yard. "Did you know a new ship's come into harbor?"

Elizabeth looked up from the laundry she was scrubbing. Her hair had fallen from her pins and stuck to her flushed face; obviously, she'd been working for quite some time. "No, I hadn't heard." She frowned. "Don't remember Father mentioning anything being expected today. Maybe an independent ship?"

"Not by the look of it." She pulled the blanket she and Elizabeth used for Gavin and laid it on the ground before depositing the sleeping baby in his basket. "I passed, just on the chance James was back. Looked like the East India Trading Company."

Elizabeth blinked. Frowned. "Oh. Strange, I don't remember anyone talking of them coming this week. I guess I'm more separated from society than I thought." She dropped what she was holding and stood, pushing damp hands through her hair. "Would you mind? My back is killing me."

"No, of course not." Mariah took Elizabeth's place at the washtub.

As she took up the scrubbing, Elizabeth picked up a basket of mending and sat on the blanket next to Gavin. "So. Is Jack gone?"

"Left last night. Said he was going to see a sea witch about a charm for Gavin."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. "A charm? Well. Suppose it's better than the tattoo I know he'll leave on Gavin one day while James is off. I swear, that man."

"He's not going to tattoo Gavin."

"He drew it for us just last week."

"And I told him quite clearly what would happen to him and any part of his body he was particularly fond of should he ever try."

That drew a laugh from Elizabeth. "And I do believe you'd do it."

"As does he."

"Very well. What's this charm, then?"

"Something to protect him. So if Gavin is in trouble while Jack is away, he'll somehow be able to call for his papa. It's nothing. Innocent. Let the man have his fancy."

"And when James sees it? Will it be so innocent? I mean, what would you say? To explain how Gavin got it." She frowned. "I just don't like lying James, not about his son."

Mariah sighed. Scrubbed down the washboard with a pensive look on her face. "Well," she said slowly after a moment. "Perhaps James wouldn't mind. Another set of eyes watching out for his son when he's gone. Another heart loving him."

"James hates Jack."

"And how do you know that?"

"Well." Elizabeth's needle paused and a winkle appeared at the bridge of her nose. "He's a pirate. James tried to hang him."

"But he let Jack go."

She opened her mouth. Closed it. Wrinkled her nose. "Not exactly. Just gave him a day's start, that's all."

"A day's start that stretched for weeks."

"But that's not... there was work to do."

"There was a notorious pirate to catch. One, upon being caught, who would have bumped James up from young Commodore to young Admiral, I'd wager. And yet, he chose not to pursue."

"That doesn't mean he likes Jack."

"No, it doesn't. How much time did they spend together on the ship? Before you returned to Isle de los Muerta?"

Elizabeth frowned and studied Mariah closely, trying to work out her train of thought. "A few hours. Quite a few. Not together, though. I... well, I was in a cabin. I don't know where they were. Not together?"

"Are you sure?" Mariah asked. Then she pulled her hands from the soapy water and straightened. "What's that?"

"It sounds like soldiers." She put her mending down. Rose and walked to the fence. "It is. I wonder where they're going."

Wiping her hands on her skirt, Mariah joined her. "With Marines, it could be anything. Criminal, skirt, ale. They're always..."

"Coming here," Elizabeth said. She barely had time to pull Mariah away from the gate before the men burst through it with no care as to who was on the other side.

The Marines poured through, forcing the two women back, weapons drawn. Elizabeth pushed Mariah behind her with one hand and scooped up the baby from his basket with the other. "Will!" she shouted, cursing her lack of foresight. Had she known her home was to be invaded, she'd have brought out her sword.

Mariah took Gavin from Elizabeth and exerted a gentle pressure, getting her to stop. Still, Elizabeth made sure Mariah was safely behind her before stepping forward, head lifted regally.

"What, exactly, is the meaning of this?" she asked in an icy voice.

"Orders."

"For what?"

"To arrest you, Mrs. Turner," an unfamiliar voice replied.

The Marines parted to reveal a man, well dressed, white wig, hat firmly on his head. A small smile graced his face, one that turned Elizabeth's blood cold. He walked until he was quite too close and looked down the short distance straight into her eyes.

She forced herself not to step back, not to give any ground. "Who are you?"

"Dear me, I've been remiss," he mocked. "I am Lord Cutler Beckett. I know your father, as it happens. Don't worry. I'll see that is informed of your unfortunate circumstances."

"But why..."

"What is going on?"

"Will." She turned and reached for her husband.

He had sword in hand, but passed her none. And he just let his rest against his thigh, at the alert, but not good enough. Not fighting these ridiculous men away.

Beckett smiled. "Mister Mercer. The warrants, please."

A craggy, dour man passed three sheaves of paper to Beckett.

"Thank you. Ah, here we are. Arrest warrants for one Mister William Turner, Mrs. Elizabeth Turner, nee Swan, and a former Commodore James Norrington."

"James has not been demoted," Mariah protested.

"Has he not?" Beckett countered. "I believe you'll find his status changed."

"What are we charged with?" asked Will.

"The charge is conspiring to set free a man convicted of crimes against the crown and empire, and condemned to death, for which the punishment is also death." He cocked his head. "Perhaps you remember a man by the name of Jack Sparrow?"

"Captain Jack Sparrow?" repeated Will. "He escaped."

"With your help. Don't insult my intelligence. You and your wife freed that man, and Commodore Norrington failed to do his duty in recapturing him."

Elizabeth couldn't help the guilty look she shot Mariah. The warrants, the demotion, obviously this had been planned long before her conversation with Mariah. But still.

"I don't hear any protests. Good." His smile turned even more smug as he stepped back. "Gentlemen?"

"Wait, stop!" Elizabeth protested, fighting.

"Do as they say, Elizabeth," said Will, allowing himself to be manacled. "Your father will set this right."

"Don't so certain, Mister Turner. My authority exceeds his."

"/Elizabeth/."

She let out a sharp breath, but ceased her struggles. A moment later, cold metal engulfed her wrists and she stood next to her husband. "Where to now?" she asked, refusing to show any emotion but pride.

"Now, you, the whore, and the bastard shall take residence as the prison. Your husband shall come with me. We have much to discuss."

It took a moment for the words to make sense.

"You can't put a child in prison!" Will said, as Elizabeth was still working through it. "Gavin is just a baby."

"He is the son of James Norrington, and, as such, will stand proxy in his stead."

"He's an infant." It was Mariah this time who spoke. "He's just a baby. Please, sir. Lord. I'll go, but give Gavin to a wet nurse until the commodore returns."

"Do not presume to bargain with me, whore. I am allowing you to be with the babe precisely to provide him sustenance. You are nothing as a proxy. His housekeeper. His wet nurse. Perhaps his mistress, but one cannot be sure. He has not married you, thus you have no importance to him. It must be his son."

"But..."

"I am through discussing. Take them to the fort." With that, Beckett executed a sharp turn on his heel and marched away.

The Marines pushed Will and Elizabeth forward. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw them be a tad more gentle with Mariah, for which she was glad. That meant not everyone agreed with this insanity of Beckett's. Still. That didn't help them now.

"So," Elizabeth said, sotto voce to Mariah. "Any chance of charm magically working before Jack gets it?"

Gavin shrieked suddenly, squirming in Mariah's arms.

The other woman smiled grimly. "With any other man, I'd laugh. But..." She sighed. Rubbed Gavin's back and tried to sooth him. "James should be back any day."

"Only to be arrested."

"Perhaps," Will said. He reached his manacled hand for Elizabeth's and squeezed it. "Except Beckett seems more interested in holding the two... three of you. Me, he's talking to."

"So?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrow.

"So. What does he want from me? He obviously thinks he won't get it without ransom. And that's what Gavin and Mariah are, too. Not prisoners. Not proxy. You're leverage."

Mariah gave a small laugh. "You're entirely too much like Jack, you know."

Will smiled and shook his head. "No. Not I. I simply... interpret the motives of others. I don't come up with the twisted plans. I just understand them." He looked at Elizabeth. "Her on the other hand."

"What does he want, then, oh brilliant husband of mine?"

His face darkened and he shook his head. "That, lovely wife, we will have to wait and see."

*

James stood on the deck of the Dauntless, his hands properly clasped behind his back, posture straight, face perfectly composed. He was the model of a proper Commodore.

Inside he, though, he was somewhat decidedly less than composed. Inside, he was a hurricane, a monsoon, a maelstrom.

Nearly two months since he'd last seen his son. Two long, empty, aching months without Gavin's eyes and his coos and his tiny body in James's arms.

It been exactly the torture James had imagined. Only far worse.

He'd never missed anyone like that before, not since he was a child. Even when he'd been falling in love with Elizabeth, once he was at sea, she was out of his mind. Everything was business, the matter at had. No distractions. His life had been neatly divided neatly in two: land and sea.

Now, his life had been turned on end, and he couldn't say he minded.

Gavin's birth might have been tragic. His conception... questionable. But his gift to James's life was precious.

"Sir," Lieutenant Groves said, coming beside him.

James blinked, becoming aware he'd drifted inward. When his vision cleared, he saw a jolly boat approaching the /Dauntless/.

"I believe that's William Turner," Groves said, a note of wonder in his voice. "Surrounded by Marines."

"What has he done now?" A heavy feeling entered his stomach. Will was the most reliable and steady man he knew. Yes, he had been known to act impulsively on occasion, but not without warrant. He had a level head on him and, now that he had Elizabeth for his wife, was even more inclined to think his actions through before he acted.

Elizabeth on the other hand...

"Commodore!" Will called when the jolly boat was almost on them. "May I come aboard?"

"Of course." He nodded to his men. They dropped a ladder over, which Will swiftly climbed.

The Marines followed.

James met Will as the other man appeared over the gunwale. Will stumbled a bit as he climbed aboard, legs too used to land. James reached out to steady him, grasping him by the forearm and Will's hand reached back and gripped the railing.

"What's going on, Will? Has something happened to..." His voice died, suddenly imagining the worst. His son, lying in his crib, not breathing, lips and face blue. Tiny heart...

"Gavin is fine," Will said, a man born to be a father and able to read the mind of one of his own. "He's with Mariah and Elizabeth." He sounded a trifle breathless and he was rubbing raw, reddened skin on his left wrist.

James glanced at the Marines. They were standing behind Will in a holding pattern, muskets at the ready, faces stern. They were strangers, James realized with a start. He was the commanding officer, he knew every face at his station. These men, he didn't know.

"What happened?" he asked flatly. He pointedly looked at the red marks, then met his eyes.

Will grimaced. Nodded. "I must speak with you. Urgently." He glanced back at the Marines. "These men need to... escort us back to the fort. To speak to... for orders. The Dauntless is to remain here." He met James's eyes. "I would order them to restock the stores."

He opened his mouth to ask again what was happening, but snapped it shut once more. There was some reason Will was hesitating. Whatever reason it was, James would respect it.

"Very well. Let me inform my men." He stepped away from Will and went back to the quarterdeck. Gillette had joined Groves and were looking down on James with twin expressions of concern.

"What's going on?" Gillette asked when James had joined them. "Did Turner do something? Did he bring that pirate back? Did he..."

"Mr. Turner has done nothing," James interrupted, shooting a look at Groves. Generally, steady-tempered Groves was able to keep the more excitable Gillette in check.

Groves only shrugged, expressing his concern in his own quiet way.

"I'm returning to the fort with Mr. Turner. Gillette, you will follow with a small contingent of men. Restock the ship in case we are ordered out again immediately."

"Do you think that likely, Commodore?" asked Groves.

"I do."

"What?" Gillette exclaimed as James turned to leave. "And that whelp, that... that pirate is the one who has brought the news? What is going on?"

He took a deep breath, then turned sharply on his heel. Fixing his gaze on Gillette, James said, "What is going on is you've been given an order, Lieutenant Gillette." He raised an eyebrow.

The other man swallowed and shrank back. "Yes, sir. Commodore."

James gave Groves a look, then turned and left.

The Marines directed him and Will to climb back down to the jolly boat. There, they rowed a safe distance away before one of them pulled out two pairs of manacles.

"I take it I'm under arrest, then?" James said dryly, shooting a look at Will.

The Marine holding the manacles nodded. "By order of Lord Cutler Beckett, you are under arrest for aiding and abetting the escape of a notorious pirate."

James looked at Will, who was being manacled by the other Marine.

"I convinced his Lordship that it would not do to disgrace you in front of your crew," Will said. "I tried to tell him he should not manacle you at all, in fact. He only conceded the ship, so that you might maintain your dignity and your control, should you accept his mission."

James grimaced at the cold feel of iron around his wrists. "His lordship is?"

"Lord Cutler Beckett of the East Indian Trading Company. He sailed into port two days ago and placed us all under arrest. Myself, Elizabeth, and... and Gavin in your stead."

"What?" Only a hand on his shoulder prevented James from shooting to his feet. His heart pounded, throbbed in his ears as he tried to comprehend the ludicrous words just spoken.

"He's fine," Will said. "Mariah is with him."

"With him where?"

He swallowed and looked down. "In the fort prison."

"He's a baby!"

"I know. Believe me, we've all tried to talk sense to this man, but he won't listen. He's convinced the only way to make you do it is to put Gavin in prison. I told him, the governor told him, everyone told him that you were a man of honor and would go.... But he's insane."

"What does he want me to do? What..." If he could, James would leap from the boat and swim to shore. Rush into the fort's prison, break down the bars, and take his baby to safety.

Will ducked his head. Sighed, then looked back up. "He wants you to go after Jack Sparrow and bring him back to Port Royal."

Jack. It always, always came back to Jack bloody Sparrow. God damnit.

"Why?" he asked, weary. He endeavored not to slump, not to hang his head. His soul was already guilty enough as it was for his relations with the pirate; he would not cement his guilt in the eyes of the law without proof that he was being prosecuted for the same.

"I don't know. He has some reason, something he wants."

"Jack."

But Will shook his head. "That's what I thought at first, but now I'm not sure. He wants Jack alive. He..." Will hesitated. Wet his lips with his tongue. Forged on. "He knows Jack."

"He does?"

Will nodded. "He won't say where or how."

"I wonder if he was there when Jack was branded." He tilted his head. "Or did the branding."

They were almost to the docks. Not fast enough, not soon enough. He still had to restrain himself from leaping from jolly boat and charging the fort. He had his sword at his side. Even hands bound, he could use it. He could fight.

"James," Will said, voice soft. He met James's eyes, drawing them from the fort. "Tis better to exercise patience."

He couldn't help snorting. But he nodded his agreement.

Time dragged but finally, /finally/, they were in... his office. Strange Marines stood on either side of the door. A man stood behind his desk, facing away.

"Mister Norrington, so kind of you to finally join us. I was beginning to despair that you would ever return to Port Royal."

He bit back the automatic correction of his rank. Useless, of course; whoever this man thought he was, he obviously knew James and his rank. He also swallowed his retort that he was decidedly ahead of the projected schedule by at least two weeks.

Instead, he skipped straight to the point. "My son."

Lord Cutler Beckett turned in one sharp, neat movement. James fought back a flinch brought on by the cold, dead eyes that met his own. He'd faced bloodthirsty pirates, a French brig, and a damned crew. Nothing disturbed him quite like this man.

Thin lips curled at the corners. "Your son is fine."

"From what I understand, my son is currently being held in the fort's prison. The one intended for criminals and those about to be hung." He took two steps forward. "Are you planning on hanging an sixth month old baby?"

"I will do what is necessary to secure your cooperation, Mister Norrington."

A chill ran down his side, but he refused to let it show. "And what exactly do you need my cooperation for?"

"You are familiar with one Jack Sparrow?"

"You know that I am. As are you, I take it?"

The smile was wider now, though only a hint of warmth pervaded it. "Twas I who placed the brand on his arm to let the world know of his profession."

He swallowed. "And the world thanks you for it." The words were dust on his tongue. "What do you want of Ja... Sparrow?"

"I want you to bring him here. Is there a problem with that?" Beckett's look changed from one of bored command to... interest. His eyes narrowed and a fire sparked in those dead eyes.

"Of course not. It is my job, of course, to bring those who break the law to justice." He took another step forward. "What I don't understand is why, when I'm out doing that job, was my child put in prison?"

Beckett didn't flinch at the volume with which the words were thrown into his face. He merely replied, "To make sure you understood how serious I am. You will leave, now, and bring Jack Sparrow to Port Royal. Barring that, should you be forced to kill said pirate, you will bring me his compass."

He started, surprised. "His... compass. The one that doesn't work?"

"Oh, it works, Commodore. It works exactly as it should. And you will bring it to me. When you do, your son shall go free."

"I won't do anything until my son is safe. I want him back in my home under the care of Miss Mariah Plover. I would also like Mrs. Turner to accompany them. Give them house arrest, but give them the courtesy of my home."

Beckett considered it for a moment before giving a succinct, "No."

Norrington endeavored not to punch the man. "I will do my duty. I will do what you ask and bring Jack Sparrow's compass, with or without the man, to you. Why cannot you give me the courtesy of my son's safety?"

"Because I know Jack Sparrow only too well." He gave James a penetrating look, from the top of his head to his toes. The look seemed to strip James bare, reveal his secrets, lay his soul for perusal.

James clamped his teeth around his tongue. Kept his face carefully composed. He would give away nothing.

And, yet.... Beckett smirked. Met James's eyes. "I know Jack Sparrow only too well," he repeated, voice deceptively soft.

A flare of emotions he did not want to examine rushed through James. His head spun. His face grew warm. Again, he had to fight his impulse to pound Beckett's cold, cold face into a pulp, now for quite different reasons.

With great effort, James forced the insanity away. Focused his thoughts on his son. "I need to know my son is safe. He will die if left in that cell. It's dirty. The night air will chill him. The food.... He must be safe."

"If you don't do this, he will die. Why do you seek to bargain the life you proclaim to love so much?"

And, he'd had enough.

In a swift movement, James had his sword out of its sheathe and at Beckett's throat.

And the man, that... inhuman, cold bastard of a man, had the gall to look... to look...

He didn't even blink! Didn't flinch, and didn't look surprised. Who was this man?

"Perhaps, in the future when arresting a man who's child you've placed in jail without warrant, you might want to tell your men to disarm him."

There was the sound of another sword being drawn. James tensed, but then Will came into his peripheral view, a sword in his hand, too.

In a slight display of humanity, Beckett swallowed. Glanced at the sword point pressed against his throat. "I suppose I could move the three to a room of my choosing. More comfortable."

"They need to be fed decent food. Have beds. Entertainment. Or, at the very least, something to do."

"I will make sure all their needs are provided for," Beckett said, voice tinged with sarcasm.

"If any of them are in any way harmed..." He twisted the sword, digging it into Beckett's skin.

"I understand."

James narrowed his eyes. Nodded and stepped back. "I want to see my son before I leave."

"You need to leave as soon as possible."

"I will leave directly after I see my son."

Beckett nodded. "Very well."

"And as I want to hold my son, I'll need these removed." He held out his wrists.

A look at the Marines brought them over and undoing both James's and Will's manacles. After Will returned the sword he'd stolen and James sheathed his, they were led out of Beckett's office.

"Mister Norrington," Beckett said just when they reached the door.

James turned back. Raised an eyebrow.

"I've heard you are the best pirate hunter in these waters. I expect you to live up to that. I want that compass, Mister Norrington. If I don't get it, I will be... disappointed and incline to honor the letter of your arrest warrant."

He refused to be cowed. He just raised an eyebrow and said, "Am I allowed to continue to refer to myself as Commodore, or have I officially been stripped of my rank?"

Beckett smiled. "Commodore." He inclined his head in obvious dismissal.

James followed the Marines through the fort. His heart sank as he was led to the prison. Even with Will and Beckett both assuring him that, indeed, they spoke the truth, he'd had a hard time convincing him of the fact. Gavin was a baby. Barely more than a newborn and so, so tiny. How could anyone put him in this dank and dirty place meant for villains and miscreants?

"Will! James!" Elizabeth threw herself at the bars when she saw him, hands wrapped tightly around. "Please tell me you've talked sense to that vile man." Her hair was lank and face dirty. Dark circles were under her eyes and James knew she hadn't slept since she'd been brought here. Her hands clutched at the bars as if she would pull them from place were she strong enough.

"Back up," the Marine ordered.

Elizabeth scowled at him, but did as he said when Will nodded at her.

The cell was opened and then James was inside. He pushed past Elizabeth to the back corner, where Mariah sat, looking weary but calm, Gavin in her lap.

He fell to his knees before her. "Are you all right?" he asked, hand on her cheek. His other sought his son, who was wiggling his fingers and looking amused, clapping and laughing every few seconds.

"I'm fine, James," she assured him wearily. "As is Gavin."

He took his child in his arms. Bright green eyes blinked up at him with an awareness that hadn't been there when James had left. A big gummy smile greeted him and a tiny hand grabbed his coat.

He couldn't speak. Couldn't say anything. James just held Gavin close and rained kisses over soft round cheeks and the so soft hair.

"James," Elizabeth said, kneeling beside him. Her voice was a mere whisper, and she fussed with a blanket that had fallen from Gavin as a distraction. "We can take them. The guards. You, me, and Will."

"And go where? How? How will we care for Gavin if we flee without a plan?"

"But..."

"I can't." He looked up at Mariah. "I've secured Beckett's promise to move you to actual lodgings. To care for you--all of you--while I go after J... Sparrow."

"He's gone to the Pelegosto. He left not three days ago. Beckett arrived the day after he left."

James closed his eyes and gave a silent prayer of thanks that Beckett and Jack had not crossed paths. Then, upon opening them again, he leaned forward and kissed Mariah softly on the cheek. "I will make this right."

"I know." Her fingertips grazed his neck and she smiled. "I have faith in you."

"James," Elizabeth protested.

He turned to her and pulled her against him in a tight hug. Placing his face so it was hidden by Elizabeth's, he whispered, "I trust you with their lives." Then he pulled away. Looked into her eyes.

They widened. "I'll take care of them," was all she said, but he knew she understood.

He smiled. Kissed her on the cheek. Rose.

"You need to leave the babe here," the Marine said when James reached the cell door.

"Think about what you are doing. He's a child. He's not even a year old. You cannot leave him here. Please."

He shrugged. "They're my orders. He stays."

James sighed. "There is a place in hell for men who do not stand up in the face of injustice."

All he received was another shrug.

He kissed Gavin again and again. Rubbed his cheek against Gavin's, pressed his face into the soft, round belly for fear when he returned, it would be wasted thin from hunger. One dozen more kisses, and Mariah was taking Gavin from him.

"Go," she whispered. "Before it is to hard."

"Too late." But he forced himself to relinquish his grasp. Straightening his shoulders, he nodded to the Marine, who opened the cell door. James walked through, feeling his heart shatter as he left it behind once again.