A/N: Okay, so this is something I'm trying. Key word: trying. I haven't written fanfiction in about three years and my schedule is usually packed. I'll try for a chapter twice a week. Key word: try. But, no guarantees. I'm a senior in high school this year and decided for some reason I was going to take three AP course and do like, five extracurriculars. Such is life.

I am super excited about this story. I know, I know, PotC is set probably twenty years before the 1770s, or more. Key word: probably. Creative license. Skewed interpretation. Hopeful denial. Call it what you will. This story starts in 1775.

I am a huge American History (Read: American History. Hear: American Revolution,) freak and I just thought it would be really fun to put Norrington in the same room with a Revolutionary. I guess we will all find out how he feels about -that-.

I claim nothing in this story as being of my own creation except the fabrication of Elinor Hayes and her immediate family. All else belongs to its respective owners.

Enjoy the story. Have fun. I hope you like Ellie.

Port Royal was usually swarming with crowds of citizens going about their day. However, Commodore Norrington thought, today was a rather unimpressive day. The skies were darkened with rain clouds. It was nothing serious, no storm. Just enough to amp up the wind and block out the sun. It would drizzle soon, but that was all. He listened to the confident clicking of the hard soles of his boots as he hurried across an empty courtyard to the door of a small manor. It was unnamed as of now and hardly just finished. Nothing spectacular, nothing like the mansions of Lord Beckett and Mr. Swann but it was elegant in its scope and rather pretty. The landscapers were hauling away buckets of dirt and planting ferns when he flew up the steps of the front door and knocked lightly.

A harried servant tore open the door and exhaled painfully. "Commodore, thank goodness you are here! The Hayes should be arriving any moment!"

"Thank you," He nodded, stepping into the foyer and watching as the servants and movers rushed through the halls with furniture and decorations. "Has Lord Beckett been by?" He asked, twisting around to catch the servant before she disappeared.

She stopped dead, holding up her skirts. "This morning, he said to tell you that he expects the best of you in greeting his cousins and regrets that he cannot make it." She curtsied and then scurried off into one of the many hallways.

That is just like him. Commodore James Norrington rolled his eyes and clasped his hands behind his back, strolling past the grand staircase and into the nearest hall. The Hayes were of near relation to Beckett and were moving to Port Royal from the New England shore. They were wealthy merchants, James understood, and apparently had better prospects at Port Royal. Not to mention, James speculated, the colonies are heating up with tension that could potentially endanger Mr. Hayes' livelihood...He thought that perhaps moving a family across the Atlantic over a possible few battles was a little rash - the colonists would not dare rebel...
He found himself standing in a large office, dominated by a giant oak desk in the center and three giant windows on the left wall. Outside, rain drops began to hit the cobblestone and a carriage was rolling up the street. James hurried out of the office and called the servants to stand on the front steps, taking his place in front of them as the carriage rolled up.

The coachman slid off the bench and opened the door, standing at attention as a portly man stepped out and helped his buxom wife to the ground. Neither of them were unattractive but they did not look their wealth. James tried to put his presuppositions aside and not assign that to their being from the northern colonies. He had heard they were all rather plain...rougher in appearance...not as refined. The coachman helped a young girl, probably seven if the commodore had to guess, out of the carriage and a boy about her age hopped out after her.

"You must be Commodore Norrington, my cousin said you would be the one to greet us, I am honored, Sir, to be greeted by such a fine servant of the King." Mr. Hayes bowed shortly and replaced his hat. "And may I present my wife and my three kids," He turned to motion toward his family, all the while James was thinking he had not noticed a third child, but as he looked behind the man he saw a young lady gripping the coachman's arm with an iron grasp as she stepped out onto the ground before lurching on the poor man's shoes and dropping like dead weight.

"Miss Hayes!" The coachman exclaimed, throwing his arms around the girl's waist to keep her from falling into her own vomit.

"She got sick on the boat ride over here..." Mr. Hayes explained apologetically. "Do get her inside and out of this heat..."

The coachman was much too old to carry the girl and the servants were too timid to step up. James took the girl from the driver, lifting her in his arms and carrying her quickly up the steps. "Someone clean that up!" He barked.

"Just, place her in the drawing room..." Ms. Hayes directed, walking in step with the Commodore and motioning him into the closest room where the only furnishing so far was a small sofa. James gently placed the limp body on the cushions and backed away respectfully. Out of the entire family, the elder girl was the only one who was not plain. She still had, perhaps, the callous edges of the New England farm culture, something in the shape of her frame suggested a pioneering spirit, when even limp her body seemed fit, but despite her lack of noble appearance, she was beautiful. She breathed softly as a maid fanned her face, her lips parted softly, her face pale from the sickness.

"She has always gotten sick at sea," Mr. Hayes admitted, "She dreaded the trip here, we tried to comfort her and the doctor swore he had gotten the medicine right...some people just are not made for water..."

James raised his right eyebrow. So you brought her to a port? He refrained. "So it seems." The girl's eyes began to flutter and she turned her head, groaning softly as she forced her eyelids apart and blinked a few times, letting the world come into focus.

"There is my darling!" Mr. Hayes bellowed as the maid helped her sit up. "Commodore, I would like you to meet my eldest daughter Elinor Hayes." He stepped away from the sofa and Norrington took the girl's cold hand.

"My pleasure, Miss Elinor." James pressed his lips lightly to her hand and she pushed herself off the couch, quite steady. "And you are recovered, I see."

"Yes...almost." She nodded, "And I go by Ellie, Commodore..?"

"Norrington." He smiled, meeting her pale blue eyes.

"My pleasure," She curtsied with what little grace she could maintain in her state and then smiled sweetly, trying desperately to hide a blush. "I suppose you would be so kind as to forget my...mishap earlier."

"Of course." He grinned and winked, sending Ellie's stomach into a whole new kind of sickness. Norrington released her hand and stepped away, turning to Mr. Hayes.

"If you will be needing anything at all, send for me at all hours, it will not be a bother." And with a bow he left the manor.

Ellie sank back onto the sofa and locked eyes with her little sister Joanna who was smirking. Ellie glared at her.

"You just, completely lost it! You just bluerrrrggheeed all over the place!" Joanna exclaimed, motioning wildly as she paced the floor. Servants dressed their beds and placed their clothes in chests and wardrobes, smiling as she spoke. Ellie sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Enough, Joanna!" She shouted, dropping on top of the bed and staring gloomily at the ceiling. All in all, she had done more embarrassing things in front of more attractive people. Not that the Commodore was not exceptionally handsome, it was only that she had been there, done that, and was used to revisiting the experience. What was really bothering her was how far she was from the green New England fields. Already, she missed the air of the grass, the smell of the livestock...the mystery of the untamed woods and the smoke rising from the tree tops in the distance...the imminent danger of the frontier...except...her family was far from being frontiersmen...now it seemed, though, that the option had been taken from her. Ripped from her hands...and worst of all, though she had denied her family's Tory allegiance long ago and swore herself to the Patriot cause - she was surrounded now by the King's loyalist settlers...completely torn from the revolutionary thoughts of her countrymen...She was almost entirely certain her father had caught on to her and that this entire move was her fault.

"Well! You should have seen yourself! 'I do pray you will forget my complete idiocy!'" She mocked, singing in a high falsetto and batting her eyelashes. Ellie rolled her eyes and tossed a pillow at her little sister.

"Get lost, would'ya?"

"Ow!" Joanna sneered. "Fine. I'll go find Henry."

"And don't forget we have that ball tonight...with the whosawhatit-Swanns. With the Swann family. Do find Miss Anna and make sure she has laid out your pink dress...and wear a blue ribbon..." Elli mused over her sister's appearance. "You'll look lovely."

"Okay!" Joanna skipped out of the room to go find their nanny and left Ellie in complete silence - besides the soft movements of the servants still furnishing the room. She grabbed another pillow and pressed it to her face, groaning behind the cotton.

"Miss Ellie...if I may..." one of the younger maids sat at the foot of the bed, her voice was coated with the thick accent of England's impoverished. "Port Royal is not so completely dreary...most days it is quite lovely and exciting...you might try to like it here?" She gave an understanding smile and Ellie figured she too had been torn from her home...under more dire circumstances probably. Ellie frowned and nodded.

"Yes...I suppose I should go check on my own clothing arrangements..."

The maid smiled knowingly as she folded some of Ellie's clothes. "The Commodore likes the color green." Ellie blushed and quickly turned away from the young maid, squaring her shoulders and leaving the room.