First Impressions (James Norrington Series) (Book 1)

James was quiet while he stood at the back of the Dauntless and watched as his homeland became more distant.

He half expected his thoughts to be consumed with the memory of his visit. His mind certainly had wanted to dwell on what had taken place while they were preparing the ship. It was rare for him to see his family, and it had brought forth as much happiness as it did hard feelings and disappointment. Howbeit, he found himself mulling over the unusual conversation between him and Miss Lovelace before leaving port.

"That's barbaric! Not all pirates are horrible people! What if the person being accused of piracy has done nothing wrong?! Would you still kill them then?!"

When she initially uttered those words, he'd believed she was being naïve like most children. He hadn't taken her seriously, nor did he give notice to the passion and anger that had swiftly burst forth from her.

Inculpable and innocent were never words he, or anyone else who understood what they were capable of, would use to describe a pirate. They were vile men and women who never hesitated to harm the innocent when it suited their needs and, as such, had rightfully earned their reputation. Each individual deserved nothing short of the hangman's noose. Those were undeniable truths that would always propel him forward in his pursuit to fight against piracy.

"And you think a proper English gentleman is always good? What if the man in question twists the law to suit his own needs in an attempt to punish someone for doing the right thing? Would he still be considered a good person just because he followed the law?"

He wasn't one to be taken off guard ordinarily, but her questions had caused him to pause and reevaluate the girl who had been standing before him. She looked like she was only around nine years of age. Thoughts such as those shouldn't be going through her mind.

It was disconcerting, especially with the expression she had on her face as she interrogated him. He would never forget it or their encounter. Without a doubt, she knew more about the evils of this world than someone her age should. Even he, a man of the age of twenty who had served in the Royal Navy for two years, hadn't encountered what she described, although he acknowledged it was possible.

"Would you still condemn a man who has no other choice but to perform an act of piracy to stay true to himself or regret his actions for the rest of his life?"

He couldn't answer her, and he still didn't have a reply even now. The question had astounded and baffled him even more than her previous ones. What kind of horrifying situation would cause a man to resort to piracy just to keep his conscience clear? Was it truly possible to have circumstances such as that? Miss Lovelace seemed to believe so. She had spoken from her heart with startling confidence as if she witnessed it, and mayhap she had. How could a man with any moral center keep his integrity intact by following through with such an act?

James sighed in vexation as he rested his hands on the railing.

She was the first and only person to make him waver in his convictions. His duty and mind dictated that the end does not justify the means. A man who performs any heinous act of piracy, no matter the reason, was as evil as the rest. There weren't to be any exceptions. If one good deed was not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness, wasn't one evil deed enough to condemn a man by principle?

His heart pulled him in another direction. If there was such a moment where a man could do nothing else, then shouldn't he hear his reason? Was it just to convict and execute a man merely by the act alone? What terrible deed did the man Miss Lovelace know, do? Had the end justified the means?

"Rest assured, sir, there are men just as evil as you believe pirates are among the proper English gentlemen. They may be even more so since they can hide behind the guise of justice and their power."

He wasn't so gullible to not realize some men abused their power, but the way she'd declared it made his blood run cold. The raw conviction in her voice. The certainty on her face and in her gaze. It was enough to haunt him. What horrors had she already seen and been through during her short life? Who exactly was she? Who had wronged her?

"I had a feeling I might find you here," Theodore stated, breaking James' train of thought as he walked up to him from behind and stood to his right. His amber-colored eyes landed on James' face before he gave him a knowing look as he took in the frown plastered on his features. "I take it the visit didn't go well?"

Theodore Groves was a tall man a few years older than him with short brown hair hidden underneath a white powdered wig that was styled like James'. Theodore's clothes were identical to his own, except for what appeared to be a small tear on his left sleeve caused by what James could only assume was the Groves' poodle. It was comeuppance for all the times he'd teased the poor animal when he was younger with his shirts. He was a lieutenant just like James and had served the British Royal Navy three years longer than he had.

The two men had grown up with each other. Their fathers were both navy men and met one another while they were stationed in the same place. As a result, James and Theodore became close friends at a young age. Most would say that they were as close as brothers, which wasn't far from the truth. Theodore spent more than his fair share of time with James' family and was one of the few who knew about his personal life since James refrained from talking about it. They had been lucky enough to end up indefinitely assigned to Port Royal when James finally left home.

"It went as expected," James replied stiffly, being reminded of his visit to his childhood home once more.

He hadn't returned home since he left England two years ago to serve in the Royal British Navy. His sense of duty and dedication to the crown, his job, and protecting the innocent from pirates kept him occupied. The only contact he'd made with his family was the frequent exchange of letters with his mother and older sister Ann who was like a second mother-figure to him. Both worried about him a little too incessantly, and it was the only way for him to ease their minds now that he was on his own.

After such a long absence, he'd felt conflicted about his visit when he first discovered he was headed to his homeland and, in fact, still did. A part of him had been pleased to see his mother and siblings once more. He'd missed them more than he'd realized. The correspondence, while welcome, wasn't nearly the same as having them around, although he'd gradually convinced himself it was. On the other hand, he preferred to be anywhere else than underneath his father's watchful judging eye. There was no love lost between them. If it hadn't been his duty to accompany the newly appointed governor and his daughter across the Atlantic, he would have gladly stayed in Port Royal.

"That horribly?" Theodore asked with a small frown.

"The more things change, the more they stay the same," was all James said with a stoic expression as he looked back out toward the horizon.

Theodore's gaze moved to the harbor in the distance as he leaned his arms against the railing in front of them.

"I ran into Philip Gillette a few days ago," he said, deciding to shift the subject to something a little more pleasant. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he spoke with a hint of undeniable amusement. "Did you have a chance to see him during your visit as well?"

Philip Gillette was a sixteen-year-old boy the two men had grown up with when they were younger. His father was another naval officer that James and Theodore's fathers had known until his untimely death while in the line of duty when Philip was eight. The situation left his family in dire straits; there were several occasions he and his younger siblings had to stay at the Norrington or Groves' manors. It led to James, Theodore, and him becoming close, nearly inseparable.

James peered at Theodore, feeling slightly suspicious. "I did."

"Is he still pining after your sister Isabel?"

The question made everything click inside of James' mind. There had been an incident between Philip and his younger sixteen-year-old sister Isabel that only served to get the boy slapped in the face and a book cast at his head. He didn't do anything egregious, but his actions had infuriated James' usually composed sister so much she decided to cause him bodily harm. Philip gave her a book, The Taming of The Shrew by William Shakespeare, and compared them to Petruchio and Katherina. He'd been under the false belief it would leave a good impression since everyone acquainted with her knows how much she loves to read. Needless to say, it had the opposite effect.

"He is," James answered with a nod. "Don't tell me that you're responsible for the fiasco that happened the other day."

"And what fiasco is that?" Theodore asked, clearly feigning ignorance.

He couldn't stop himself as he scoffed knowingly. "I think you know precisely what I'm referring to."

"I didn't think he'd be crazy enough to do it," he said in his defense. "He should have realized I was joking when I told him it would be a good idea to give Isabel that book."

"And what gave you that impression?" James retorted dryly. "He's the same as he was the day we left for Jamaica, if not worse. And now, thanks to you, I fear Lydia has taken a sudden interest in him. She has the same look on her face that Ann gets when someone catches her attention."

"Lydia?" Theodore asked in surprise. "Little sweet innocent Lydia?"

"She may only be twelve, but it appears she's picked up some of Ann and my mothers' traits while we were away."

A mirthful laugh escaped Theodore's lips in response, much to James' aggravation. He found the situation less than amusing, given the circumstances.

"Heaven help the world!" Theodore said light-heartedly, ignoring his pointed stare. "What is she doing to poor Philip? I know what it's like when someone catches Ann's eye. She still has a bad habit of trying to embarrass me every chance she gets or finding ways to try to wrap me around her finger."

"She hasn't done anything," James grumbled unenthusiastically.

Theodore silently looked at him in confusion, trying to figure out what the problem was if that was the case.

James continued to explain, "Thanks to your little prank, Lydia seems to have taken a fancy to him. She found his actions the other day worthy of her admiration. And, from what I was able to ascertain, Isabel's become a little too eager to help her catch his attention to get him to stop pining after her."

Theodore fought to keep a straight face as he spoke, "Then I fear for him even more. She's already decided to show off the old Norrington family charm, has she?"

An exasperated sigh escaped James' lips before he bowed his head.

Theodore good-naturedly clapped him on the back. "Be grateful she's only twelve. She's far too young to get married just yet. Although, if she keeps refining her charm, I'm certain she'll be easily married off by the time her first season arrives."

James couldn't stop himself from glowering at him. The furthest thing from his mind was having his youngest sister wed. She was far too young and equally too impressionable at times. The latter left him feeling overprotective of her, just as it did with his mother and Ann. When it was time for her to marry, he'd personally see for himself if the man was worthy of her hand.

"Speaking of little girls," Theodore began, unable to stop the little twitch of the corner of his lips as he attempted to conceal his amusement once again. "I heard from various members of the crew that you had some trouble with the governor's daughter and a friend of hers before we set sail. They've never seen you so flustered."

A frown appeared on James' lips, his gaze shifting back to the harbor in the distance as his mind replayed the incident.

"And, apparently," Theodore continued, "her friend was quite bold and incensed after something you said. What on earth did you tell her that caused her to harass you and accuse you of secretly being a pirate? Did you somehow insult her honor? Philip's the one who always causes a woman's scorn, not you."

James let out an exasperated sigh. "I merely told her that all pirates deserve to be hung, and she became infuriated at me."

"Ah, the naivety of youth," he sighed wistfully.

"No," James disagreed, a pensive expression lining his face. "She is anything but naïve. There's far more to her than meets the eye."

He should have realized there was something different about her the moment he gazed into her striking ocean-like eyes. He couldn't look away. They had captivated him in such a way that he'd never felt before, not even with a beautiful woman. It was as though he was inexplicably being pulled towards her. A part of him couldn't shake the feeling that his life had somehow been altered by their meeting, from that first glance.

"Who was she?" Theodore asked, intrigued by the way he was acting.

"Miss Aeliana Lovelace, Cutler Beckett's ward."

"What?" Theodore blurted out in disbelief. "Cutler Beckett's? Are you sure?"

James looked over at him and instantly took note of the incredulity that had spread upon his visage.

"Yes," he answered, perplexed and, dare he think it, fascinated by his reaction. It was rare for Theodore to be taken this off guard by something. Wanting to find out more, he questioned him further. "Why do you seem so surprised? Do you know anything about her?"

"I've met Cutler Beckett once or twice while visiting England," Theodore explained, recounting their meetings. "My uncle Henry has had a few business dealings with him over the years. He never struck me as the type of man who would want to take care of a child. My cousin Elizabeth has tried on several occasions to catch his attention, but getting married and starting a family seemed to be the furthest thing from his mind. He's more interested in his work at the East India Trading Company. As for Miss Lovelace, I don't know anything about her. This is the first time I've heard that he has a charge. I'm amazed that he would allow her to have any sort of fascination with pirates."

"Why?"

"I overheard some rumors that he was captured by them and deeply humiliated many years back. He's held contempt for their kind ever since."

Before the conversation could go any further, the captain shouted up to them from the quarter deck. "Norrington! Groves! Instead of standing around, come help with the lines!"

They hastily turned around. "Yes, sir!" they called out in unison.

James' mind was whirling as he and Theodore made their way down to the upper gun deck. The information he'd just discovered about the little girl who was now consuming his thoughts left more questions than answers.

It took everything in his power to fight the urge to ask Theodore more by continuing their conversation. However, now was neither the time nor the place. Theodore was more clueless about Miss Lovelace than he was, and he wasn't in any position to do anything even if he did find out more. He was a man in the Royal British Navy, and an entire ocean would be separating them in less than two months. They would probably never see each other again.

Deciding to once again absorb himself in his work, he pushed the questions from his mind. But, much to his chagrin, Miss Lovelace never left his thoughts entirely. He found his mind flooded by thoughts of her once more just before bed until he was finally able to fall asleep that night, her eyes and words haunting him even in his dreams.

And she continued to occupy his thoughts even after they reached the Caribbean.

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A dense, eerie mist surrounded them as the Dauntless gracefully glided across the surface of the ocean.

They'd been traveling for over a month and, at long last, reached Caribbean waters two days ago. On the way towards Port Royal, the weather brought nothing but favorable winds, bright skies, and nearly cloudless nights until now. Mr. Gibbs had stated at one point that it was as if fate itself had decided to grant them all safe passage to their destination. He was saying something entirely different presently.

"I told 'em," he muttered loud enough for Elizabeth and a few other members of the crew to hear. "I told 'em it was bad luck to be singin' about pirates before we left port, not to mention the fact that we still have a lady on board. Mark my words. Cursed pirates sail these waters, and with us mired in this unnatural fog, it might just be enough to bring 'em down upon us!"

Elizabeth's eyes brightened in intrigue. She was about to ask him about the cursed pirates, but Lieutenant Norrington called out to him before she could.

"Mr. Gibbs, go help check on the lines to make sure they're secure and then help mop the deck."

"Aye, Lieutenant," he replied before stalking off to another part of the ship.

Lieutenant Groves spoke up when he was out of earshot. "There's never a dull moment with him around, is there? I can only imagine how he would react if he ever saw that disturbing doll at your parents' mansion. Even our Philip thinks there's something not quite right about it."

"Do you think now is really the time to discuss it?" Norrington asked with a hint of exasperation in his voice.

"What do you want to talk about then?" Groves inquired, unphased by his tone.

"Elizabeth," her father said to her kindly before she could hear the man's reply. He pointed at an empty area at the bow of the ship as he continued to speak, "Why don't you go over there while I speak to Lieutenant Norrington. We don't want to get underneath anyone's feet, do we?"

Elizabeth nodded, feeling disappointed that she couldn't speak to Mr. Gibbs about the cursed pirates, then walked over to the bow of the ship and stared at the syrupy mist engulfing the area. It wasn't rare for London to be filled with fog, but this was the first time she'd seen it so thick. The clouds made it difficult to see anything that was more than five feet away from the ship.

She opened her mouth and instinctively turned her head to look over to her right to say something, expecting to see Aeliana beside her, but the space was empty. Her thoughts shifted to the absent girl who she had thought about on many occasions during the voyage.

Elizabeth had grown accustomed to her warm, welcoming presence over the last year and already missed her terribly. Her absence had left an unfillable void. She could tell that her father felt the same way. Aeliana had become something akin to a sister and was her most cherished friend and confidant. To her father, she'd become another daughter.

A wistful smile appeared on her lips. If she was around, she was sure Aeliana would find some way to pass the time. There was likely a story or two she could tell that would have heightened the excitement of the fog surrounding them. Mr. Gibbs, being the superstitious man he was, certainly would have had a run for his money. The tales she weaved could be far scarier than anything he'd come up with so far. One of her previous stories had caused Elizabeth to be terrified of dark spaces and have nightmares for weeks.

Her gaze moved down as she lifted her right hand and stared at a faded scar she had on her palm. The sight of it brought her a little comfort. After she and Aeliana discovered Elizabeth and her father would be moving to Port Royal, they decided to take a blood oath and cut one of their palms. They pledged to one another that no matter where or how far apart they were, they would always find their way back to each other one way or another. It was an idea that Aeliana had suggested, and Elizabeth had agreed to it full-heartedly. Some may say that their actions were a bit extreme, even her father had been more than just a little shocked by their deeds when he discovered what they'd done, but it wasn't for them. They were each other's anchors and soulmates, and neither of them regretted their choice. They were now bound together forever. And Elizabeth knew that they would see each other again.

Elizabeth opened her mouth and softly started to sing the song they'd sung together before they were forced to part ways as she continued to reminisce.

"Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, and loot.
Drink up, me 'earties, yo ho!
We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho!

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We extort, we pilfer, we filch, and sack.
Drink up—"

She paused when she noticed a cream-colored parasol drifting in the water down below. Curiosity filled every fiber of her being as Elizabeth stepped over to the railing at the side of the ship, her eyes fixed on the umbrella as they slowly sailed past it. A few moments later, her eyes caught sight of another sizeable object bobbing up and down on the surface of the ocean. She leaned over the railing and squinted to try to see it better as the Dauntless approached it.

Elizabeth couldn't believe her eyes when she was finally able to determine what it was. She gasped as her mouth fell agape, and her eyes widened in disbelief. It was a motionless boy lying on top of a piece of what appeared to be ship wreckage.

"Look!" she exclaimed as she turned towards the others on the Dauntless and pointed down at the water. "A boy! There's a boy in the water!"

Everyone stared at her for a moment as they absorbed what she'd told them and then hastened to the side of the ship to have a look.

"Man overboard!" Lieutenant Norrington bellowed, catching sight of the boy first. He and several others immediately sprung into action as he began to shout orders. "Man the ropes! Fetch a hook! Haul him aboard!"

One of the sailors grabbed a boat hook and used it to snag the piece of wreckage the boy was floating on to stop him from drifting away. Another man was then lowered down in a small rowboat and pulled up once the boy was taken out of the water and placed safely inside the boat.

Lieutenant Groves was waiting for him on the upper gun deck and took the unconscious boy from his arms as soon as he could. Elizabeth took a few steps towards them to get a better look as Groves placed his limp body onto the floor. Norrington crouched down to examine him while most of the other men on the ship crowded around them in concern. Mr. Gibbs elected to keep a lookout for anything out of the ordinary as he continued to stare out into the distance.

"He's still breathing," Norrington exhaled with some relief in his voice once he was finished checking him over.

"Where did he come from?" Elizabeth's father asked, worry in his voice.

"Mary, mother of God," Mr. Gibbs said in horror.

Everyone's attention turned away from the boy, and silence fell upon them when they spotted what he was gazing at. The fog had lessened slightly only to reveal the remains of a ship that was up in flames. Various goods that the vessel had been carrying were also inflamed as they wafted in the water. Several motionless bodies of the men that had once been its crew were slowly drifting away from the wreckage. There was a damaged British flag floating nearby that had once conveyed to other vessels in the ocean which country they'd held their allegiance to.

They rushed over to the side of the Dauntless for a second time to inspect the scene closer, varying degrees of horror on all of their faces.

"What happened here?" Elizabeth's father asked in alarm.

"It's most likely an explosion in the powder magazine," Lieutenant Norrington explained, unable to take his eyes away from the burning ship in front of them. "Merchant vessels run heavily armed."

"A lot of good it did them," Mr. Gibbs remarked. He looked at Norrington, who met his eye, Groves, and her father and took in their tense expressions. "Everyone's thinkin' it! I'm just sayin' it! Pirates!"

"There's no proof of that," her father immediately replied with a hint of nervousness in his voice. "It was probably just an accident."

Elizabeth made her way over to the boy, who was still lying unconscious on the floor of the deck. Her eyes were glued to his frail, drenched form. She felt strangely entranced by him now that she could see him up close. He was a rather attractive boy around her age with smooth pale skin and short brown hair. His long-sleeved linen shirt was gray, possibly from dirt and grime, and the open dark brown vest he had over it looked slightly worn. He also had on a pair of dark brown pants. It was clear he was from the working class, but Elizabeth didn't care. That was the furthest thing from her mind.

"Lieutenant," Elizabeth's father said urgently. "If there is even the slightest chance one of those poor souls is still alive, we cannot abandon them!"

"Of course not, Governor," Norrington agreed. He turned his attention to Groves, who was standing to his left. "Rouse the captain immediately!"

Groves nodded and quickly headed towards the opposite end of the deck to get to the captain's quarters.

"Heave to and take in sail!" Norrington ordered the rest of the crew, causing them to immediately rush to their stations. "Launch the boats! Gunnery crew, jackets off of the cannons!" He looked over at her father with a grave expression. "Hope for the best, prepare for the worst."

He nodded his head in understanding.

Norrington walked over to another fellow lieutenant. "Move the boy aft. We'll need the deck clear."

"Yes, sir," he answered.

"Heave to!" a sailor shouted.

The lieutenant lifted the boy off the floor as her father approached her.

"Elizabeth," her father said to her gently, "I want you to accompany the boy. He's in your charge now. Take care of him?"

She nodded her head and followed after the man who was carrying him. A frown appeared on her father's lips as he let his worry shine through.

The lieutenant brought the boy up to the poop deck and placed him down onto the raised surface at its center, then wrapped him up in a wool blanket to warm him. Elizabeth waited until the man walked away before approaching the boy once more. She hesitantly raised her right hand and gently brushed her fingers through his hair as she pushed a few strands out of his face.

The boy suddenly took a loud gasp of air as he jolted awake and grabbed hold of her wrist with a fearful expression on his face. Elizabeth's eyes widened in surprise as she jumped a little.

"It's okay," she assured him, taking his hand in both of hers. "My name's Elizabeth Swann."

His chocolate brown orbs met hers. "W-will Turner," he whispered weakly.

She gave him a small smile. "I'm watching over you, Will."

He clutched her hands as he fought to keep conscious before his head fell back, and his eyes closed once more. She gently placed his hand down to his side then noticed the chain of a necklace around his neck. Letting her curiosity get the best of her, she tugged it free and examined the gold medallion hanging from it. Her eyes widened in alarm as she spotted the skull at its center.

"You're a p-pirate!" she whispered in fear and horror.

"Has he said anything?" Norrington asked from behind her.

She jumped a little in surprise and quickly hid the necklace behind her back as she turned around to face him.

"His name is William Turner," she responded. "That's all I found out."

Her heart was racing inside her chest as fear and apprehension flowed through her. She didn't want anything to happen to William. If they found out, they would hang him. The very idea scared her.

Luckily, Norrington didn't seem to notice her strange behavior. "Take him below," he said to the two men standing next to him.

Elizabeth waited until they had taken William away before she walked to the very back of the ship. She turned her head to glance over at Norrington and his men, but they were all too busy to pay attention to what she was doing. Satisfied, Elizabeth turned her focus back to the medallion in her hands. With a great deal of hesitation, she took it from the palm of her right hand then lifted it up into the air to examine it for a second time.

Her concentration was drawn from it when she saw a ship in the distance as another section of the fog broke up a little. Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion until she took in its appearance while it sailed away from them.

The ship was as black as the darkest night and had matching sails that were tattered and worn. It reminded Elizabeth of a sunken vessel that had fallen into disrepair and decay within the depths of the ocean, never able to see the surface again. Yet here it was, right in front of her very eyes, gliding soundlessly across the water as if it and the men sailing it had risen once more to haunt these waters. Their calling unfulfilled and to remain so for all eternity. A shroud of mist seemed to wrap around the ship that appeared to be coming from the water surrounding its hull, making it appear more unnatural than ever before. It was as if the mere presence of the vessel itself was producing the fog they'd found themselves in.

Fear gripped her heart as her eyes widened in alarm and her body froze. She was too scared to move or even cry out. It was one of the most terrifying things she'd ever set eyes on.

Unable to take her eyes off the ghost-like ship, she noticed the black flag at the top of the mizzen-top. Emblazoned on it were two crossed swords and a terrifying white skull that replicated the one on the medallion. It was a Jolly Roger, the flag of a pirate ship.

They were the cursed pirates Mr. Gibbs had warned them about!

She closed her eyes tightly, filled with even more panic than before. A few long moments passed before she found the courage to open them again, and she realized the ship was gone. It had vanished within the mist.