Wondrous
By: veils
Pirates of the Caribbean, James/Elizabeth; He held her hand like it was a mystery, one he couldn't quite believe

"I never go back on my word. If you still will have me, I will become your wife."

Something flickers in his hazel hued irises, betraying the emotionless façade he works so diligently at putting up. James Norrington had expected for Miss Elizabeth Swann to leave with her golden hero for the endless azure sea and the feeling of the wind blowing through her fair tresses. Now here she is, putting her future in his hands and the weight bears down on him. James' mouth goes dry, while for one ephemeral moment he truly does consider letting her go. (If you love something set it free) However, he's sailed the turbulent waters without rest looking just for her, and something in him feels like he deserves a reward for saving her from that godforsaken island.

"I could think of nothing more perfect than having you as my bride."

A smile graces Elizabeth's face. (James knows it is false)

She is resigned to her fate.

(She is resigned to him)

… … …

Their engagement is the talk of Port Royal, as they both naturally expected. It has become the social event of the decade, and those who don't receive a crème colored envelope possessing an invitation with the details in gold lettering withdraw from society with an upturned nose. Elizabeth ignores the idle chatter and commotion of the coming marriage; walks through the arrangements with little emotion and feigns a smile at the first look of her wedding gown. No one notices how the bride to be has little enthusiasm for the impending nuptials.

(James notices)

… … …

To an outsider the wedding was carried out beautifully. The bride wore a gown imported from Paris, her father teared up and asked for a handkerchief, and cannons were fired in honor of the ceremony. Look closer and you'll see other little details: a young woman who cannot bear to look upon her husband —whom keeps her eyes riveted towards the sea; and a man with sadness radiating in his eyes, ever knowing his bride holds no place for him in her heart.

… … …

James cannot bear to touch Elizabeth later that night. He sees the fear brimming in her eyes, (fears that maybe she'll murmur another name) and walks into his bedroom with a sigh.

"Goodnight Elizabeth."

(He falls asleep to the sound of her sobbing)

… … …

Time passes ever so slowly. James is whisked away to exotic places (keeps an eye out for a certain escaped pirate) but Elizabeth builds a permanent residence in his mind. The thought of her never leaves him for an instant; he brings back gifts from his travels and revels in the spark ignited in Elizabeth's eyes.

"May I journey with you, once?"

"The ocean is no place for a woman."

(The spark dies)

… … …

Countless soirees and events are held, and all must be attended by the Commodore and his wife. The latest ball is thrown by some madam from Paris hoping to bring some Parisian lifestyle to the sorry port. Elizabeth fans herself continuously; her corset is far too tight and the way James fleetingly looks at her bosom with hints of a blush upon his cheeks irritates her. ("If you want me take me. Surprise me. Seduce me. Something!") She refuses dances with various men under James, standing by the door and inhaling the smell of the sea that drifts in.

"Charming party." James stands to her right, nervously searching for something to say.

"Boring. This is dreadfully boring, not charming in the slightest."

He coughs.

She rolls her eyes.

"It's hot in here," Elizabeth mumbles, finding her silken fan more of an accessory than means to cool oneself, "I think I shall go for a walk."

"I shall accompany you."

(She was dreading that)

They leave the bustling mansion and find themselves strolling silently towards the docks. No conversation is formed underneath the silvery moon and stars that sparkle like diamonds: they cannot start one. It was easier when Elizabeth was a little girl and James a young man, and he could entertain her with superstitious tales he collected over the years. (It was so much easier)

"Don't you ever get tired of it?" Elizabeth starts, treading upon dark waters. This is a test. (Don't fail it)

"O-of what, exactly?"

"The never-ending balls, the fake 'how-do-you-dos', the false smiles, the…corsets that take your bloody breath away?" She throws her hands up in the air and ignores the reddening of James' cheeks.

"But this is our life. These were the roles we were given, and we must play them well…even if we don't want to," he pulls on his too tight collar and is taken aback when Elizabeth undoes it just a little.

"We don't always have to play by the rules."

With a smirk she pushes him into the water, laughing at the sight of his bewildered face and the string of colorful oaths that emit from him.

"Why would you do something like that?" He asks, loudly, over the sound of Elizabeth's laughs.

"I wanted to do something unexpected." She holds out her hand to help him out, but screams as he pulls her in.

The decision to kiss for the first time is the most crucial in any love story.

(He kisses her under an ocean of constellations and stars)

… … …

"When was the moment you realized you first loved me?" Elizabeth murmurs against James' chest. He chuckles, ponders the question, and sighs.

"Such a question cannot be answered dearest. Can one truly recall that moment in which love is summoned within the heart for the first time? I think not."

"You are quite aggravating, James."

"But you love me."

(She smiles)

… … …

"Don't go. Please," Elizabeth pleads, grasps onto his waistcoat, flinches slightly at the rumble of thunder.

"As much as I would want nothing more to stay with you, I have to go."

"But the storm-"

"Is utterly harmless. I'll come back," James reassures her with a kiss.

She bites her lip while watching him sail away; holds onto her silver cross and whispers a prayer.

(Poor girl)

… … …

("Just eighteen and already a widow! I feel sorry for her.")

("She's ruined. Completely ruined.")

("There hasn't been a hurricane in these parts for years. How completely unexpected.")

("At least she has his fortune to fall back on.")

… … …

Numb.

There is no feeling within her bones now.

… … …

"Well, what are you going to do now?"

In one way or another it seemed that people had been asking her this forever, even though it had only been a few months; servants, her father, passerby's, but the question passed through her and still she was no where near to answering.

"To live each day praying he'll return."

(Ignore the sympathetic smiles and pats on the shoulder)

Elizabeth didn't wear black mourning gowns. It shocked everyone in Port Royal. It didn't matter: James detested when she wore that color. Deep down in her heart, she was waiting and waiting for him to come back. She would gaze out off the balcony, wistfully, as if she might catch the white gleam of a sail away on the dim horizon. She knew he would come back. He promised. He always kept his promises. She listened to every sound, (Was that his boots against the ground? Was that him humming a tune while coming through the courtyard?) started swiftly from her bed, and could not understand why he never came back. And then at sunset, sadder at heart than ever, she would long for the morrow to come, for maybe that day her beloved would return.

(He had to)

… … …

"I want no struggle with you Elizabeth. You are to return here to live with me, and leave that dusty old mansion. Society will welcome you back with open arms; you're young enough, thank the Lord," her father smiles.

Maybe it's a good thing, coming back to her childhood home.

(She swears his ghost still lingers in their bedroom)

… … …

He…he came back.

A year later.

And he's back.

The news is delivered by her father, with eyes cast downward. Elizabeth sets her sewing aside and races out the door and suddenly her father has taken her in his arms.

"My dear, he's not the same man. He's not the same man."

(What?)

… … …

Elizabeth finds James sitting amongst rosebushes. (Always her favorite) He is sitting on a stone bench, waiting, silent, unmoving. There is stillness in the air that is stifling, and it surprises her.

(Not the same man)

"James. Oh James, you're back." The man before her jerks away and gives a pointed look.

"I am a ruined man. Leave, for I do not want to ruin you as well."

"James, don't be ridiculous. I am your wife, and will stand by you no matter what. I-I don't care if you've been stripped of your titles, honor, or anything. I'm here, your wife, never to leave you," Elizabeth grasped onto James' hand, stroking the side of his weathered face.

He held her hand like it was a mystery, one he couldn't quite believe; did she really not care that he was nothing? Had not a shilling to his name? Would disgrace her?

"You are truly wondrous," James murmurs, allowing her to take him in her arms as his shoulders begin to shake.

… … …

There's a hollowness in James' eyes that strikes Elizabeth to the core; a deadness that fills the house with a frightening air. He doesn't touch her the same way: his hands tremble and quickly turns away when passion stirs from deep within. (Someone so tainted and marred as him cannot possess and spoil something so perfect)

"Is it because you still remember how you loved me before you were a ruined man? Does is scare you?"

"Yes."

… … …

There are days Elizabeth casts her eyes upon the sea: upon the waters that stole her husband, which stole her. Sometimes she imagines standing on the deck of a ship, salt from the sea rests on her tongue, and a breeze plays with her hair. That lust for the ocean will always be there, hiding, within the recesses of her heart.

"I'm sorry I couldn't give you what you longed for," James says, often.

Elizabeth smiles: "But you did."

(Love)

a/n: Always adored these two together. Finally got around to writing something for them. Comments, thoughts, and assessments are treasured.