This is my first ever fan fiction...Be gentle.

She had always loved the garden. It was the one place where she could divulge her most precious secrets and dreams and there was no fear of judgement. She trusted them --the flowers, they never scoffed or sneered, they simply bobbed their heads with the sway of the wind in silent agreement. She had taken great pains to spend as much time as possible in her grandmother's garden back in England, pleading with her tutors to take her lessons outside, wasting away her adolescence picking flowers and avoiding her sewing. And now that she had been firmly planted in the Caribbean, on a large plantation with an glorious new garden, she became even more enchanted with the surrounding flora. She thumbed through botanical books, memorizing species and finding proper names for her new companions. There was simply no better place for her, free and alive between the flowers.

At least she felt so. At 19 years of age, Sophia Howard was somewhat of an introvert. She had a few friends in England, acquaintances really, but now she was truly alone. Of course there was always her 17 year old sister, Abigail. Vibrant Abbie with her chestnut hair and lively copper eyes, her charming personality and quick wit. The talk of the town. The apple of their mother's eye. Sophia's personality was more demure and subdued. Withdrawn and unsociable is what they usually called her. Of course as sisters Sophia and Abigail were close, but they were interested in different things. Sophia took pleasure in reading, learning, and of course the garden. Abbie loved dances and dresses and flirting with men.

The last one was most upsetting to their mother in regards to both her daughters. She felt Abigail tried entirely too hard to gain the attention of gentlemen and Sophia entirely too little. It was not as if potential suitors had not tried. No, many men initially found Sophia's comely blue eyes and honey blonde hair quite captivating. Sophia, unfortunately, found all of them utterly dull. It seemed to her that a husband should be not only attractive but also intelligent and witty. Someone she could trust and open up to. The young men, while very nice, seemed just as flighty and vapid as the women that fawned over them, not exactly the types she would trust with her deepest dreams and desires. Eventually, the young men stopped trying altogether and this was welcomed news to Sophia, if not to her mother. She simply did not see the point in all the head games and stolen glances that all the other girls her age took such pleasure in. The women of Port Royal were also not of interest to Sophia. Their intense discussion of fashion and town gossip her sister had so easily transitioned to was quite unappealing, though perhaps because Sophia herself was usually a subject. Sophia had come to terms with this years before and no longer paid any mind to the snickers and whispers, she was more than content to get lost in her books or her studies of the plants than to twitter about with all the other ladies...and gentlemen.

So there she sat in her garden. She was perched on a cool stone bench beneath a rosewood tree. Her right hand held a leather bound book, the other mindlessly caressed a white lily she had brought over as a bulb from England. The sweet sea breeze blew inland and playfully ruffled her spun gold hair. She was so enthralled, eyes darting from line to line, that she did not see her sister approach.

"Sophie! There you are!" her sister interrupted.

Sophia looked up, startled, and smoothed her hair. "Oh! Abbie! I-"

Before her sister could finish, Abbie's face turned into a half joking sneer and she sighed, "I thought I would find you here. It is always the same with you, Sophie. Always with your nose in a book out in the garden. I knew father should have never moved us to Port Royal and tempted you with these plants and sunshine. He should have known you would never get anything done. You had best get back to the parlor, you know. Mother wants to know why you abandoned your stitching...but she should know the answer to that by now." Sophie wrinkled her nose in obvious distaste and Abigail's sneer became a playful smile. "But I'm sure the stitching can wait just a little bit more. I have something more important to tell you about."

It seemed his life was an onslaught of never ending paperwork and patrols with no time for any sort of happiness or pleasure in between. He did it on purpose, throwing himself into his work, as he always had when he was upset. This time, however, he was far beyond upset. He was devastated. Destroyed. He was not the man he was before, but he didn't let anyone see it. It had been months since that bloody pirate had escaped. He had not only escaped the hangman's noose and Port Royal but also any of Norrington's further attempts to catch and be rid of Captain Jack Sparrow. Any time he thought of that wretched man, it left a bad taste in his mouth. Unfortunately for him, these thoughts were never far from his mind and he spent much of his time with bitter thoughts and a sour stomach. James almost did not want to catch Sparrow, for he was certain that he would also find the blacksmith and her aboard the Black Pearl as well. The new couple had quickly left Port Royal under the cover of darkness and nothing had been heard from them since. James was not sure how he felt about Elizabeth's departure, let alone her betrayal... Humiliation, anger, jealousy. Maybe all of them. Worst of all, even after all the pain she had caused him, it still did not stop his dreams. He dreamt of soft brown curls and playful, coffee colored eyes. Lily white hands ran through his hair and caressed his face. Then she would look up, tears streaming down her face and step back from him. He would always reach out for her but it was useless; she was always a step ahead, an inch too far. He would strain and yell her name but no words would come out. He would wake up sweating or occasionally with tears in his own eyes. James would often spend the majority of his nights miserable and awake before falling into the thin veil of exhaustion. It got to be so bad that James hated sleep nearly as much as he hated waking up alone. He wondered how long he could stand the sweet caresses in his dreams followed by the stark realization upon waking that she was not there next to him. She would never be there. Most importantly and perhaps most painfully, she did not want to be there. Not much longer, he surmised. Even so, in a small part of his heart that was not yet destroyed by his depression, he still loved her, he was sure of it. And that hurt most of all.

As he finished one report, he took a minute to rub his temples, fingers pushing beneath the stiff white wig and tufts of soft brown hair peeping from beneath. He threw his arms back as he yawned and stretched. Another exhausting night followed by an exhausting day. He had sat forward once more and began shuffling the papers into organization when there was a sharp knock at the door. He already knew who it was.

"Enter."

"Sir?" Gillette poked his head into the office.

"Yes Lieutenant?" Norrington turned from his desk to the door. Gillette moved inside and closed the door behind him.

"Commodore..I think it wise to take a bit of a rest, don't you? You've been working on these reports nonstop for days. You can't stay shut in your office for all of your life, sir. You deserve a bit of fun. Something to get your mind off of..things. The other men and I are worried about your health."

James shut his eyes for a moment before speaking. "Lieutenant, I have a lot of work ahead of me. So if you'll be so kind as to remove yourself from my office, I have more important matters to attend to than 'a bit of fun.' And I'll have you know, I can shut myself in my office all my life, if my duties dictate I do so."

Gillette rolled his eyes at his stubbornness. "I thought you would say that, James." He rarely used his friends first name while they were on duty unless he wished to express his utmost concern. "There is a ball being held at the Ainsworth residence tomorrow night for their oldest son's birthday. I think it in your best interest that you attend. You need to get out." he said bluntly "All this time spent alone is doing wonders for your personality."

James ignored Gillette's impudence. "No, thank you, Gillette. I think it in your best interest to stop trying to include me in these social frivolities." The commodore had had enough of this nonsense. There was work to be done, besides, he hated parties. He turned from his friend and lieutenant to his papers and picked up the quill.

Gillette sighed and placed a hand on Norrington's shoulder, "Commodore, as your subordinate I must follow orders, but as your most trusted friend, I must insist." Gillette gently patted his friends shoulder, as if that would evoke a more welcomed answer. It did not.

"Absolutely not!"

"Absolutely not!" Sophia protested. She hated parties. It was no more than an evening of forced fake social interaction with people she did not care for and that did not care for her.

"Both mother and I think it would be a nice chance for you to present yourself more in the social circle! Maybe even catch the eye of a potential suitor! You know you're getting a bit past your prime, Sophia." Abbie chided.

"I think you and mother both know how I feel about all the potential men in this port."

"Sophia! How could you come to believe such a notion! The men of this town are all very fine men indeed. You just need to be less picky. Focus with your eyes, darling, not with your brain."

Sophia sniffed in protest. She just could not bring herself to flutter her fan and giggle, still she could not deny that she was indeed getting old or at least old enough to at least be engaged by now. She also could not deny her feelings late at night, when her thoughts lingered on the idea of a man holding her as she slept. It was not so bad a wish. It was just that she had not met a man she wished to let hold her.

"I suppose we had best get back to the house. I should hate for mother to send a servant to fetch both her daughters...or come for us herself. Besides, it's not like you had a choice in this matter. I just wanted to get your dreadful protest out of the way."

Sophia managed a half smile, "You are incorrigible, Abigail Howard. I hope you know that."

"Oh, I think I do..." She smiled smugly and threaded her arm through her sisters as they walked up the pathway.