charlotte, 27, autistic // this is my fandom blog â what i'm loving and the fics i'm reading and writing // i will be sharing 18+ material â minors and ageless or empty blogs will be blocked
you can also find me on ao3 at charlottes_book_club âșïž
a little about me: I'm currently an art history phd student and an aspiring art history professor. Iâve been interested in creative writing since I was little and almost was an english major until I got sick of doing lit crit (my undergrad didnât have a creative writing program). So I write a bit when I have time, but I've never tried fanfic until now, although Iâve always loved reading it.
a little about this blog: I will be reblogging works from my favorite writers here as well as posting my own! My main blog (where Iâll follow back from, etc.) is @ourstaturestouchtheskies
navigation: the tag system I have right now works like this:
charlotte writes: my writing
charlotte reads: works Iâve reblogged from other incredible writers
charlotte rambles: headcanons, musings, ramblings, etc.
asks and requests are so very welcome! or even just feel free to drop in and say hi!
characters for whom Iâm currently writing: Armitage Hux, James Norrington, Huck Finnigan (from Ratched), Alistair (from Twilight), Carlisle Cullen, Huck Finnigan (from Ratched), Dedra Meero, mcu Loki (altho please note I deny the existence of the series), Gwayne Hightower (thatâs all I can think of for now, but I am always open to accepting new blorbos and poor little meow meows to add to my collection)
all characters whom I write in pairings and all reader characters I write to be in said pairings are adults (usually 20 or older)
**please note that I do NOT condone the use of AI in fandom spaces, and I absolutely do NOT give permission for any of my work to be fed into AI of any kind**
my heart's a sea â chapter one hundred and seven (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist: (chaps 1-50) (chaps 51-100) (chaps 101 and beyond)
summary: James and his wife discuss ghost ships
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, a little bit of protective/possessive!James (because I think it's delicious đââïž), suggestive moments, sexual references, undressing, nudity (although not specifically described), implied sexual content, no super explicit description of sex but there is some intimate touching, steamy fluff; let me know if I've missed anything!
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
this one is 18+ â minors please do not interact
In the period when the Wrights were away touring the other naval ports that dotted the Caribbean, things returned to the lovely rhythm that you and James both cherished. He was able to bask in your presence at meals, to enjoy your company in the evenings, and to receive your infinitely sweet kisses at both the opening and the close of his duties each day. He fell asleep with you in his arms every night, and, without visitors in the house, the two of you were able to more freely engage in those exquisite intimacies sanctified by the sacrament of holy matrimony whenever there was mutual desire to do so. In short, James deemed that his life was utterly perfect, and that there was not a thing he would change, except perhaps getting to spend more time with you.
On that score, one of his very first actions after learning of your inexpressibly sweet request to spend a day with him was to promptly schedule that day of leave. The pair of you had collectively decided that it would likely be most thoroughly enjoyed after the Wrights had returned to England and there was no longer the looming reminder of their imminent return to the house, so James put in his advance request for leave for a date after their final departure from Port Royal.
Of course, in planning ahead in this manner, he was also very unhelpfully reminded of the threat of the forthcoming ball that still hung over him. You recounted to him the fittings you were having with your seamstress to bring one of your older gowns up to fashion, and told him with much sheepish laughter that she was more excited about the prospect of you attending the ball than you yourself were. James was very happy indeed to share your laughter on this matter and commiserate together on the anxieties which attended the upcoming event.Â
Mostly though, he tried to put it from his mind, intentionally ignoring his nagging thoughts which were intent upon reminding him of all the tedious niceties he would need to engage in for the duration of the evening. Instead, he directed his mental efforts to imagining how utterly stunning you would look. This did ease his mind somewhat, as a flush of delight and pride bloomed like a garden of roses in his chest when he thought of being the one who would have the privilege of leading you through each dance, happily stepping and spinning with you across the floor and knowing you were far and away the loveliest, most intelligent, most charming lady in the whole room.
But these considerations also brought other thoughts. New thoughts. They were something James had never given much consideration before, given that you and he were not exactly out and about in society. There had been the Latimersâ party, he supposed, but he had been quite distracted by his own moment of weakness at the time, and then the two of you had left rather early, so the thoughts which were now entering his mind had not surfaced. What was bothering him now was this: what if other men looked at you? He certainly was not unreasonable and deluded enough to think or demand that no other man should ever look at you â the mere act of looking was not what troubled him. What was causing a strange new feeling to rise hot and molten in his chest was the idea that other men might look at you hungrily, desirously.
 As this possibility occurred to him, that new sensation bubbled up within him like superheated rock in a volcano, slowly creeping through him until his veins were flowing with magma. Somehow he was both furious and sick at the same time, the heat of his anger meeting the briny saltwater that pooled in his stomach and setting off jets of hot steam that rocketed through him like cannon fire until he was more of a warship than a man.
Because what if other men saw you spinning elegantly across the floor or caught a glimpse of your sweet smile or noticed how utterly lovely you looked, and their sentiments toward you went further than polite appreciation? What if they began imagining how the soft warmth of your lips might feel, or fantasized about the shape of your body beneath your ballgown? James clenched his jaw so forcefully he was almost surprised the bone didnât fracture, igneous fury boiling within him and spilling outwards as his molten anger heated his skin to such a degree that he might scorch anyone who touched him.
What infuriated him about these imagined scenarios most was twofold. The first was the idea that anyone would dare to reduce you to simply a body to be desired â bits of a person: lips, waist, bosom, legs â and not the totality of you that James rejoiced every day to know and cherish. The thought that their lascivious eyes might seek to imagine unwinding your clothes from your body for no other purpose than sating their own debased desires was absolutely sickening. Perhaps he should bring his pistol to the ball.
The second matter that caused him such distress about this line of thinking was, in some manner, his own reaction to such an imagined scenario. James did not think himself a selfish or jealous man, and one thing that had troubled him deeply when he first met you was the sense that you had been turned into a beautiful, prized commodity, a well-dressed doll given over to him like a new possession. So why the bloody hell did this hypothetical scene of other menâs lecherous eyes on you make him feel so damn possessive?
Even imagining the sight had his hand itching to reach for his pistol as he stepped immediately in front of you, aiming the weapon at the offending cad. But then again, that was more protective than it was possessive, was it not? The gazes of other men did not bother him at all until they dared to turn lustful and impinge upon your honor. After all, he hadmade a vow to love and protect you, and he kept those promises with the utmost joy and sincerity.Â
James had just never been a husband before, had never been blessed to share his name and his life with such a wonderful person whom he had the honor of calling his beloved wife, so perhaps such feelings were entirely natural. He had never had cause to think about the wandering eyes of other men before, but certainly such strong feelings toward the defense of his wifeâs honor were entirely appropriate for the scenario he had concocted. His rather immoderate reaction had merely startled him was all, since he was accustomed to being so temperate. So perhaps he would not bring his pistol to the ball. But he would have his ceremonial sword with him, and that would do the trick in a pinch.
âJames?â Your soft voice rocketed him back to the present, and he was no longer in the imaginary ballroom of the governorâs mansion surrounded by vile cads whom he would happily fillet with his sword if they so much dared to glance at you with less than honest intentions. He was at home, sitting at his desk in the study and was meant to be working on his personal correspondence. You were at the table where you typically tended to your collections, but this evening you had been progressing through the neat stacks of books you had marked for further perusal. And you had said his name.
âYes, my love?â he responded, relishing being able to use his favorite term of endearment as he set aside the correspondence that he hadnât been working on anyway. Clearly you enjoyed hearing him call you âmy loveâ just as much he loved saying it, because you broke into a beaming smile.
âMight I ask you something?â
âYes, of course!â James was agreeing instantly, already half-standing to make his way over to you when he realized you had moved first. So he pivoted instead to making ready another chair beside his own and happily offering you his hand to help you into it. Your hand was soft and warm when it met his, but your sweet âthank you, Jamesâ was somehow softer and warmer still. He retook his seat as you situated yourself in yours, adjusting your skirts as you turned toward him.
âHave you ever seen a ghost ship?â
God, he loved you so bloody much. Only you would think to ask him such an utterly charming question that he could in no way have anticipated and yet found he was excited to answer, as such an inquiry likely meant you had discovered something that was of interest to you. Your eyes were sparkling with curiosity, but also just a twinge of nervousness, as though you feared his answer might be âyes.â He was very pleased indeed to be able to relieve you on that front.
âNo, butâŠâ His hedging answer had your attention immediately, worry already dashing across your expression. James moved to instantly reassure you. âGillette swears to me that he has seen a ghost ship, although I never have, and frankly, I donât particularly believe him,â he explained, breathing a private sigh of relief when the tension in your body relaxed upon realizing it was not something he had experienced personally. âMay I inquire as to the reason for your asking?â
You glanced away for a moment, a little sheepish smile blooming on your face now that you were assured that he had never once seen a ghostly ship.
âI am in the very beginning stages of undertaking my research on the subject of supernatural occurrences in search of an answer for what you experienced,â you told him, âand I have stumbled headfirst into a veritable well of unexplained phenomena related to the sea. I confess that I do not yet have a logical explanation for much of it, but in reading sailorsâ accounts of ghost ships, I believe itâs possible that I may have discovered scientific explanations for at least some of the sightings, and so I wished to see if you had encountered any and thus gain your perspective on the phenomenon.â
âI have not,â James confirmed, feeling an adoring smile beam to life on his face as he listened to you discuss your research pursuits. âBut I do wish that I had, if only so that I might be of service in your endeavors to unravel these mysteries. Am I permitted to further inquire as to what scientific explanations you have discovered?â
âWell, I am certainly glad you have not seen one,â you returned, âbecause if my hypotheses are incorrect and there are indeed spectral vessels haunting the sea, I would very much prefer that they stayed an ocean away from you. But as to their reported sightings, Iâve learned that ocular misperception is surprisingly common at sea, and there are a number of fascinating phenomena, which, based on the details of some of the accounts I have read, I believe could cause a perfectly normal ship to appear ghostly if one doesnât know what theyâre seeing.â
Damn. This was one of those moments when James needed to subtly curl his hand into a tight fist to â at least momentarily â prevent himself from kissing you so desperately that he forgot the taste of air. God, you were so bloody brilliant and so incredibly beautiful and so completely charming that it was taking nearly every ounce of his self-restraint to not do something in the study that was better suited for the privacy of the bedroom.
âWhich phenomena have you discovered that might explain such strange reports?â It took considerable effort to ensure that his voice remained level and did not become slightly hoarse around the edges with his ardent wanting.
âThere are several,â you responded cheerfully, intelligent enthusiasm sparkling in your eyes like a million radiant stars. âOne is a fata morgana, which can cause ships to appear as though they are floating above the surface of the water rather than atop it, and such ocular distortions have actually been reported since ancient times. Another is St. Elmoâs fire, which I understand can sometimes cause the masts of ships to glow in a very unnerving manner when they are in the midst of the thunderstorm. From my research, the exact cause still seems uncertain, but most learned men agree that the lighting in the clouds has something to do with it.â You broke into a soft laugh then, and if James had been struggling to restrain himself before, then he was in very serious peril now. âI am just exceptionally relieved that I did not witness such a phenomenon on the crossing from England, as thunderstorms already startle me so, and seeing the masts of the ship glow with unearthly light would certainly have frightened me near out of my wits!â
Good God, you were far and away the loveliest, most endearing, most wonderful person James had ever had the good fortune of meeting. And you were his wife. He really needed to be a bit more dedicated in offering sincere prayers of gratitude to whatever infinitely benevolent power had seen fit to grant him the exquisite pleasure of entwining his life with yours.
âI am most relieved indeed that you were spared such a sight,â he told you. And then James could no longer resist touching you, so he reached out for your hands, carefully clasping them in his own as the feeling of your soft, warm skin against his both soothed him and sent stars scattering across his vision. âDo you think some sort of ocular distortion was involved in what my crew and I witnessed?â he asked quietly. Your eyes met his, soft and worried and serious. You shook your head slowly.
âNo, given what you have related, I cannot find any visual irregularity that would cause such a vivid scene, save a mass hallucination, which â given the very real casualties your men suffered â I do not believe is likely.â You breathed a small sigh, glancing down to where your hands were twined with his. âI hoped â foolishly, I know â that there would be a readymade answer waiting for me as soon as I delved into researching this subject, but any easy explanation seems to allude me.â
You spoke with such disappointment weighing down your words, as though your inability to discover a logical explanation for such a deeply illogical experience within the first few days of undertaking the study was some kind of failure. James simply could not abide that. Gently loosening one of his hands from where it held yours, his skimmed his fingers over the edge of your chin, coaxing you to look at him once more. You did so immediately, your beautiful eyes filled with the constellations by which he charted his every course.
âIf anyone is able to discover an explanation for such a decidedly inexplicable occurrence, then it is certainly you,â he told you softly, his hand sliding to cup your cheek as your lips pulled into a small, shy smile.
âI fear you may judge my abilities to be greater than they are,â you replied lightly. âBut if there is one thing I can say for myself, it is that I can be remarkably persistent when needed.â
âAn exceptionally admirable quality to be certain.â Brushing his thumb adoringly over the curve of your cheek, James leaned in to press a soft kiss to the warm plush of your lips. God, the exquisite sensation of you smiling into his kisses would forever leave him dizzy with delight.
When he pulled away, making himself contain all the want that was fizzing inside him â for the moment, at least â you were smiling back at him like he alone filled the sky with stars and instructed the flowers to bloom each morn. His chest was so full of humming light that he thought he must be glowing, the glittering fireworks going off within him beginning to make him a little lightheaded in the best possible way. He really would need to be more dedicated to those prayers of gratitude for the fact that he had been deemed worthy not only to share your life, but to merit your love.
âEven if I have not yet discovered an answer to the question that is driving my research, I did discover â or perhaps realized â something else in my studies,â you informed him, your voice light with lilting playfulness.
âAnd may I inquire as to what you have discovered?â James was a little breathless. All the stars in the universe could not have outshined your smile.
âIn my perusal of old seafaring folklore,â you began, reaching out to fold his hands together with yours once more. He entrusted them to your care immediately, shivering slightly as your fingers skimmed ever so lightly over the creases in his palms and the angles of his fingers, charting the lines of him with such adoration that James felt a little sob wishing to rise into his throat. He repressed it though, swallowing it back as he watched your gaze travel to where your fingers were still tenderly passing over his hands. âI have discovered â or shall I say re-discovered â a number of old stories that have to do not with the men who sail the worldâs oceans, but those who wait for them upon the shore.â
James was barely breathing, the state induced both by the fact that he was listening intently to all that you were telling him, and because your fingers were shooting stars coursing over his hands, ribbons of warmth trailing behind them as they filled his world with light and magic. Your eyes were still fixed upon where your hands were clasped with his.
âAnd what I have realized is that, when I heard or read of them in the past, I misunderstood them entirely.â
You looked at him then, even as your hands never left his own, your eyes bright and lovely with perhaps just the minutest bit of sheepishness creeping in around the edges of your expression.
âIâm certain youâve heard the old ballads and tales and songs of the ladies and wives of sailors waiting on the shore for their beloved to return, standing on cliffsides in rather dramatic white dresses that can be appropriately wind-tousled or wandering the shores with a lantern and frightening those they come upon into thinking they are the ghost of some poor shipwrecked soul.â
James nodded in agreement; he had indeed heard many such tales and songs. They were sung down by the docks, especially in London, by those hopeful of earning a few extra coins through their melodramatically soulful renditions of just such ballads. And while he did not frequent public houses or taverns, he had needed to find lodgings in a few over the course of his life â often amongst fellow sailors â and plenty of similar stories and tales had been shared over ale that James did not drink because he found the taste rather revolting. In truth, he typically did not even remark upon them; they were so woven into the fabric of life as a seafaring man, always on the lips of common sailors when they got drunk enough to break into song, and even occasionally shared amongst navy men during long stints out at sea when some form of respectable entertainment was desired. But now that you had mentioned them, he was considering them much more carefully, wondering how you felt you had misunderstood them.
âWell,â you continued, your voice playfully conspiratorial in a way that had him instantly leaning closer, like you were about to impart a great secret to him, and James had no intention of missing it, âI used to think them silly and dramatic, utterly overblown. I recall hearing one and thinking âwhat lady in her right mind would withstand the torments of wind and rain to stand upon a cliffside to look for a ship she knew she could not see?â I thought it completely foolish.â
You laughed softly, the sound decking the room with stars as you shifted forward, your knees pressing gently against his. Good lord, he was so inexpressibly in love with you.
âBut I no longer think them so foolish,â you breathed, the sweet confession touched with a shimmering glint of laughter. âIn fact, I understand them completely.â You squeezed his hands gently, and James was sailing with utter delight upon the endless oceans of love and joy he found in your eyes as you looked back at him as though he was your guiding star, the same way you were his. âThe first time you went to sea â and I suppose the first and only time I ever awaited your return, as I had the exquisite privilege of sailing into port with you the second time â on the day you were set to arrive, I went out in the early morning onto the edge of the cliff that leads down to the beach, before the dew had even dried. I took my notebooks and sketching charcoals and drew the view as I waited all day for the Dauntlessâ sails to be visible on the horizon. And I cannot tell you the excitement I felt upon seeing her crest the waves and make for port â I believe I started up from my seat, scattering my materials all asunder â and I watched her sail all the way into port until I judged that I had better help Anna and Mrs. Baird prepare the house for your arrival. And would you believe it: I was wearing a white dress, so if you had been able to see me upon the cliffside, you would have seen a rather dramatically windswept lady in a billowing white dress, her hands pressed to her heart in joy when she saw her husbandâs ship appear on the horizon, just as in all those ballads and tales that I no longer deem so unbelievable.â
James was kissing you in the next instant. He had no other expression for how completely overcome he was with an emotion so large and brilliant and wonderful that âjoyâ seemed too small a word to contain the magnitude of it. He felt as though he was made of starlight, or as though the sun was rising in his own chest, its golden beams radiating out from him when his body became too slight a vessel for such an inexpressible amount of utterly radiant happiness. You had waited for him, yearning for his arrival. Damn it, he should have looked up! He never thought of it at the time, with all the duties required of him as they reached port, but if he had looked, he could have seen the edge of the cliff that jutted out above the fort, the one on which the house was nestled. But perhaps it was better that he hadnât, because if he had seen you standing there, your white dress swirling around you in the wind, looking so unimaginably beautiful and knowing that you were waiting for himâŠ. Well, then he would have proved quite correct all those stories of sailors being swayed by the sirenâs call of a mermaid, because he would have been diving from the quarterdeck and into the sea, swimming feverishly toward you until he washed up on the little private beach tucked next to the cliff and collapsed directly into your arms.Â
James could taste your sweet, soft laughter against his lips, the gentle curve of your mouth as you smiled in delight. The sensation only inspired him to kiss you more deeply, and you accommodated happily, shifting even closer until you were half upon his chair and half upon your own, your hands finding their way to his shoulders and neck as you drew yourself nearer. And then there were heavenly sighs spilling from your lips into his as you moved partially onto his lap, and James barely bit back the sounds which were rising in his own throat.Â
The image of you standing atop the cliff, hands clasped to your heart in delight that he had returned, would stay with him forever. You truly were his guiding star, silhouetted against the sky like a glowing beacon from on high, always beckoning him home. And James would always, always, always come home to you.
âAnd I confess that all the songs are true as well,â you told him breathlessly when the two of you had parted momentarily to gasp for air, James summoning the words to ask if he might have the unparalleled honor of escorting you to the bedroom. When he met your gaze, he could see oceans of tenderness and love in your eyes, illuminated by brilliant, playful stars and spiraling, cascading fireworks of desire. Your soft lips which he had just kissed and would likely have the exquisite privilege of continuing to lavish with adoring kissing for some time to come were pulling up into his absolute favorite smile, the only lighthouse he would ever need. âBecause it is quite true indeed,â you continued, shifting until you were nearly entirely upon his lap as he very joyfully accommodated for your weight and position, your fingers delicately tracing over the froth of white fabric at his neck as though you intended to remove it â which James very much hoped you did â your forehead pressing gently to his as you leaned in to kiss him once more, âthat there is nothing which can console me but my jolly sailor bold.â
And then there was not a hope of James ever recovering from the ecstatic delirium which overcame him like a rushing, welcome tide, a rising swell he was happy to ride with utter abandon. In fact, it was something of a miracle that the pair of you even gained the bedroom when James was kissing you with every single ounce of devotion in his body and you were kissing him back just as fervently. In other circumstances, it might have reddened his cheeks to think of his staff being moreâŠÂ directly aware of the delights in which he was blessed to indulge with you, but his face was already flushed for other delightful reasons, so he could not find it in himself to care that Anna would simply discover that you no longer needed help with your undressing when she found the bedroom door already closed and locked for the night.
Jamesâ hands were not as steady as they typically were when he began helping you to unpin your bodice from your stays, his fingers fumbling with the tiny pins as he endeavored to pull them out, but his mind was filled with heavenly clouds of gold at the sound of your lovely voice calling him your jolly sailor bold, the words murmured against his lips as you sealed them with a kiss that was somehow fizzing champagne and sun-warmed honey and fresh pineapple all at once, and yet still better than all of them.Â
His head did not get any clearer when your bodice fell away to reveal that you were wearing your deep blue, gold-trimmed stays, the ones that inspired by his uniform. His hands were at your waist then, his fingers tracing the elegant curves of your body where the rich blue fabric hugged the shape of you, a decidedly wanton noise slipping from his mouth into yours. James swore he could feel you smiling against his lips then, your fingers weaving into his hair, pulling him ever closer to you, which was precisely where he most wished to be.
As much as he adored the stays you had ordered because they reminded you of him, he was also desperate to have not a single layer of fabric between his skin and yours, so he undid them quickly, his fingers surer with the laces now. That knowledge ignited a little flame of pride in his chest, a sense of accomplishment that his hands were now well-trained in the delicate art of tying and untying his wifeâs undergarments, especially when it was a skill he relished the opportunity to practice.
Between breathless sighs and deep kisses and hands fumbling with ties and buttons and fabric, there was at last nothing at all between you and James; the only sensation on his skin was the warm press of you beneath him and the reverent caresses you lavished over his body until he was veritably trembling and at risk of collapsing. His nose brushing yours as he rested his forehead against your own, finding all the seas he ever wished to sail in your warm, beautiful eyes, James summoned just enough reason to softly murmur against your lips that, if you would have him, he would be your jolly sailor bold forever. Without even a second of hesitation, your whispered back that you would most certainly have him â indeed, there was nothing you desired more. Then he was kissing you deeply once more, sailing upon the perfect tide where the waters of your heart and his joined together into one wondrous ocean, the fairest, most magnificent sea he had ever sailed.
my heart's a sea â chapter one hundred and six (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist: (chaps 1-50) (chaps 51-100) (chaps 101 and beyond)
summary: with some gentle insistence from him, James' wife tells him what she would like most as a gift
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, suggestive moments, sexual references, implied sexual content, no super explicit description of sex but there is some intimate touching, nudity (although not particularly specifically described), FLUFFFFFFFF; let me know if I've missed anything!
words: 1660
authorâs note: and I am back!!!! âșïž I turned in my prelim essays last night (they were due this morning) so now all I have to do is prep for the oral exam! because of all the academic writing I was doing during the day over this past week, I did find that I didn't have a ton of energy to write at night, but I did manage to get this short but very sweet chapter written, and I've been chipping away at the next one (although I decided last night that I need to overhaul parts of it lmao đ€Š). anyway, I confess that as I was reading this chapter back to edit it, I was smiling so much because it's just packed full of fluff, and I really hope you enjoy it!! âșïžđ
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
this one is 18+ â minors please do not interact
Jamesâ breathing was still steadying itself from the utterly delightful exertions he had just partaken in with you, and he could feel yours doing the same as he held you ever so close, both of you settling comfortably against each other in the lingering golden glow of passionate intimacy. Since that night when he had endeavored to ease the pain of your menses with his hands pressed to your abdomen, he sometimes held you like this, with your back flush against his chest, all of him folding around you, echoing the positioning of your body with his own. He regretted that this arrangement denied him the chance to see your face, but it had other advantages. He could trail his fingers so easily over each curve of you, reverently charting the beautiful topography of your body from your thigh to your shoulder, committing every rise and fall to memory. And, if he was feeling particularly indulgent, he could even rest his hand such that he might continue to pass soft caresses over the dizzyingly luxurious plush of your bosom, a gentle, adoring action which, on at least one occasion, had inspired a renewal of the wondrous intimacies the two of you had just shared.
Now though, Jamesâ hand was resting on the lovely curve of your hip, his fingers swirling unconsciously in little circles over the lush warm softness of your skin. His lips were pressed lightly to the back of your neck, and he was waiting for the gloriously overwhelming rush that had coursed through him to continue subsiding enough that he could raise his head to press a line of adoring kisses along the top of your shoulder without trembling.Â
The thin sheen of sweat that slicked his skin was drying in the night air, leaving him pleasantly cool in the wake of the fizzing warmth that had filled every inch of his body. He fought against the way his eyes wished to flutter closed in the fading light of the candles that neither of you could summon the energy to blow out.
He adjusted his position slightly, holding you even closer â if such a thing was possible â and you accommodated happily. God, James knew there would never be a day when feeling the way you melted so easily into his hold and nestled yourself so comfortably against him would not make him completely lightheaded with happiness. The soft, utterly contented sigh you breathed out as you settled so fully into his embrace was setting him to glowing such that he no doubt rivaled the stars outside the bedroom window.
As he lay there with you in the lovely quiet as he matched his breaths to yours, thinking of nothing at all except how unbelievably lucky he was and how bloody much he adored you, an idea wandered into his mind. He wondered if now might be a good moment to ask if there was anything he could get you in thanks for all you were doing to host the Wrights. Yes, he did plan to subscribe to the forthcoming set of volumes on natural history, but between ferrying the subscription over the Atlantic and then the books making the return journey, it would be so long before you were able to have them. And yes, you had told him that you didnât need anything, but he still wanted to give you something. And perhaps now, when you were perfectly content and sleepy and relaxed, he might be able to gently coax you into telling him whether there was anything he might do for you.
He breathed your name softly against the shell of your ear, his thumb rubbing lightly over the curve of your hip as he spoke. You hummed quietly in response, indicating that you were listening and had not yet succumbed to sleep.
âAre you quite certain there is nothing I can get you in thanks for hosting the Wrights?â
His question was met with a little bubble of your golden laughter that so easily brought an adoring smile to his face.
âCommodore,â you began, your voice sparkling with cheerful teasing, âam I to believe that you have seduced me for the purpose of extracting such a confession from me when I am off-guard?â
It was so natural now for James to chuckle in response, hearing your laughter join his own in the quiet bedroom. God, he loved you so bloody much.
âNo,â he replied softly, passing another caress over your hip. âI was far more tempted by other inducements.â That earned your lovely laughter as well. âBut perchance, asking if you might answer my inquiry may be counted as one of thousands of exquisite privileges to be gained by having thus âseducedâ you, as you claim I have.â
Another breath of soft, sleepy laughter fell from your lips, and then James felt you shifting in his arms. He loosened his hold on you, letting you move as you wished. You were turning to face him, half propping yourself up on his chest. Good lord, you were so unbelievably beautiful, with your hair uncoiffed, your skin glowing in the candlelight, and your lovely, warm eyes filled with oceans of tenderness.
âDo you truly wish to give me something?â you asked quietly. The way your fingers were tracing light, swirling patterns over the bare skin of his chest was making it a bit difficult for him to respond, but he wanted you to know beyond a doubt that he truly did wish to give you whatever you might want.
âVery much so,â he replied, raising one hand to brush his fingers over the curve of your cheek, hoping that the gentle caress might help the truth of his words melt into your skin until you absolutely believed them. You breathed a small sigh.
âThen I suppose I may have one request,â you told him, and James was hanging on your every word. âBut you must tell me at once if it is far too selfish or unfeasible or any other such thing â you will be a better judge of that than I.â He nodded in agreement, but you could have asked him to pick a star from the sky for you and he would have deemed it to be a very reasonable request.
âAnything,â he promised, passing another adoring caress over your cheek, savoring the soft warmth of you beneath his touch. The tender action drew an exquisitely beautiful soft smile from your lips, and you glanced away for a moment, as though determining how best to make your request.Â
âWhat I would like most,â you murmured after a moment of quiet contemplation that James did not interrupt, your gaze meeting his once more and setting him to sailing upon the perfect seas of adoration he found in your eyes, âis a day with you. Any day really â whatever might be most manageable with your schedule â just one where you donât have any duties to attend to or anything for which to prepare. A day that could be just for us.â
James momentarily lost the ability to produce words. He had planned for myriad different responses, already prepared with assurances that whatever you requested was not too expensive, was not too extravagant, that he would be happy to get it for you. There were hundreds, thousands, millions of things you could have asked for: new charcoals and notebooks for sketching, elaborate gowns or accessories that you might not purchase for yourself under normal circumstances, another sturdy cabinet to store your collections, a bottle of scent from Paris, the finest embroidery threads that money could buy, even a whole library of sheet music for the pianoforte. But what you were asking for â what you wanted â was him.
James truly risked weeping, swallowing back the tears that threatened to creep into his constricting throat and the tightening points of pressure at the corners of his eyes. Before he met you, when all he knew of you was that he had been arranged to marry you, he had never in his wildest hopes presumed that he would have a wife who wished to be in his presence, to spend time with him. He parents had given him lessons in distance and coldness; while he had hoped his own marriage might be a bit better than that, he had not held much higher expectations than that his wife might eventually become at least remotely fond of him, but he had assumed that, primarily, husband and wife would live relatively separate lives, even if under the same roof.
Of course, he was long past believing such things anymore. You had given him love and happiness and affection and tenderness so deep and profound that even the fairest ocean on earth could not compare to the perfect seas that had opened up before him with you as his wife. But this wondrous moment of realization still left him awestruck in the understanding of how truly you loved him. He could feel that understanding settling happily inside of him, making a home deep within him and glowing there as his personal guiding star.
âIââ James needed to try again when his voice broke on the first attempt. âI cannot express to you how utterly delighted I would be to arrange for precisely what you have requested. In fact, I could not think of anything more wonderful than the prospect of spending the day with you.âÂ
Your answering smile was absolutely radiant, and when you leaned in to press a soft, warm kiss to his lips, he could taste your honey-sweet joy as you smiled into the kiss. James would so happily give you a day, one that could be spent in lovely togetherness without the incursion of professional responsibilities, but he also hoped you knew that he was giving you every single day of his whole bloody life, because even when duty called him away from you, you held his heart, always.
like "I dream of you in starlight / and I choose you in the morn" is soooooo incredibly perfect for James and his wife like I am crying rn đ
anyway, it got an immediate add to the playlist and I just thought I would log on here to yell about it before I get back to work! I hope you are all well! đ
my heart's a sea â chapter one hundred and five (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist: (chaps 1-50) (chaps 51-100) (chaps 101 and beyond)
summary: the Wrights depart for the next leg of their tour
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, suggestive moments, sexual references, implied sexual content, no super explicit description of sex but there is quite a bit of intimate touching and kissing (so hard to know where to draw the line in these definitions), undressing, nudity and partial nudity (although not particularly specifically described), very steamy fluff once more; let me know if I've missed anything!
words: 4090
authorâs note: hello friends! sorry for being away so long! first thing's first, which is that there might also be a long-ish wait on the next update because the written portion of my preliminary exams started yesterday, so I now have a week to write three 10+ page papers, and therefore I likely won't have as much energy to write in the evenings đ. to make up for it though, here is a longer chapter that gets quite steamy toward the end, so hopefully that should tide us over! âșïž also, very random note, but I now know more than I ever expected I would on 18th century natural history publishing, and it was indeed quite common for authors or publishers to offer subscriptions to fund forthcoming book projects (me randomly saying this will make sense when you read the chapter lol đ ). anyway, I'm happy with how this chapter came out, and I really hope you enjoy! âșïžđ
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
this one is 18+ â minors please do not interact
The few days before the Wrightsâ departure for the longer jaunt of their tour were quite busy indeed, as preparations needed to be made both at the fort and at home. Admittedly, prior to the Wrightsâ arrival, James had not expected Henrietta to accompany her husband on this next leg of the journey; both of you had planned for her to remain at the house. But it became quite evident that the Wrights had always anticipated going together, even if that had never been fully communicated â on the converse, Henrietta staying had also not been discussed, but it was surely the most logical assumption. As the day of their departure approached though, it became very clear indeed that she fully intended to set to sea with her husband once more, and James gleaned from her conversation over dinner that this would not be the first time she had accompanied him on such a tour. George had a robust list of officers and officials who would be hosting them at each port, and had evidently planned for the route to progress at a slightly slower pace to accommodate his wifeâs presence. Evidently, they were already acquainted with a few of their hosts, and Henrietta appeared quite excited to visit with them, which James judged did seem in keeping with her gregarious character.Â
Even though he had a few daysâ notice that they would both be leaving, James still needed to adjust to this rather suddenly altered expectation when he had been so completely prepared to continue hosting Henrietta while her husband was at sea, and thus, on the day he bid the Wrights farewell from the docks, he didnât quite know what to do with himself. They would be back, of course â they would end the tour in Port Royal as well, at which time the governor planned to throw a celebratory ball to close out their visit â but for the intervening period, James suddenly saw a glorious expanse of time that he might spend only with you stretching out before him in a welcoming horizon. It was nearly enough to have him racing home directly from the docks, happily forgetting that he had any other role that than of being your husband. But alas, he was not nearly that rash, and so he dutifully marched himself back to the fort to undertake his duties as he always did.
But walking through the front door later in the evening was like entering the pearly gates of heaven, because he stepped directly into your open arms, your smile beaming with all the sunlight that was steadily fading outside. For a long moment, James did nothing but hold you, burying his face into the crook of your neck where he was inhaling nothing but you â it most certainly did not escape his notice that you had already removed the delicate fichu that typically draped around your shoulders during the day, permitting him to luxuriate in the soft warmth of your skin against his lips. He let the last lingering tensions and concerns from his day melt away as he held you, basking in the feeling of your body pressed to his, two hearts beating in tandem as the pair of you finally were able to indulge in the kind of beloved, familiar closeness that the Wrightsâ presence in the house had disallowed.
At dinner, after he had reluctantly released you from his hold, James was able to inquire as to if you had done any further work on your research. You met his eyes across the table with a sheepish smile.
âIs it terribly embarrassing to admit that I brought some books down to read in the drawing room, and then quite promptly fell into a doze on the settee?â Your question was swirling with sweet laughter that so easily had his lips folding up into an adoring smile. The image of it was utterly endearing, and James only wished that he had been there beside you so that you might have rested your head upon his lap as you slept.
âIt is not at all embarrassing,â he assured you. âIn fact, given the week youâve had thus far, I might almost be surprised if you did not indulge in a well-deserved rest.â
âIndeed, as much as I have trained to be a society hostess, I fear my constitution is not up to the rigors of the role,â you lamented with exaggerated despair, even if there was laughter bubbling just under your words. James could not resist the enticing lure of it, a chuckle spilling from his mouth that then blessedly encouraged your own laughter until the dining room was humming softly with the musical sound of it.
âLuckily I have very little inclination to invite all of society here to visit, so I hope I shall save you such a strain on your constitution in the future.â His light joke was richly rewarded with more of your laughter, and James was absolutely basking in the lovely, familiar closeness of being able to share private moments like this with you once more.
After dinner, when the two of you retired to the drawing room, James could not have been more relieved that he was not at constant attention on a ship, in every moment doing his absolute best to impress Admiral Wright. Admittedly, he truly did not mind being at sea; it was the ever-present sense of scrutiny that would reduce him once more to the perennially-tense state he had inhabited for all those years when he was not yet the highest-ranking officer on the vessel. Even his body had suffered from it, his shoulders often stiff and aching when he finally attempted to allow himself to relax in his bunk when his shift had concluded.
Yes, James was exceptionally glad to be seated beside you on the settee in the cozy drawing room that the two of you at last had all to yourselves once more, soaking in the wonderful domestic nearness of just being with you like this. He truly would struggle to ask for more.
As you picked up a volume from the stack that you had brought down from the study before taking a certainly-deserved rest, he collected the last few copies of a journal to which he was subscribed â and which he was woefully behind on reading given all that had occurred recently, between the pirates and your recovery and the admiralâs arrival. Of course, the fact of the journalâs coming from London meant whatever was printed was already a bit behind the times, but there were nevertheless some interesting articles and valuable information to be gleaned on a variety of subjects.
It was as he was flipping through the most recent edition, neatly marking sections he wished to return to, when he saw an advertisement that caught his eye. In modest text, the advertiser â a London publisher â described a forthcoming set of volumes for whose production they were currently collecting subscriptions. What drew Jamesâ attention was the content of those volumes: natural history. It was to be an expansive and well-illustrated survey of the vast collections of one of Europeâs most immanent collectors, complete with explanatory labels and detailed information on each specimen. He had been looking for something to give you as a way to express his deep gratitude for all you were doing during the Wrightsâ stay at the house, and this seemed absolutely perfect. James quietly marked the page and made a mental note to pen a letter to the given address along with the required funds for the subscription. It would be a bit expensive â any lushly-illustrated book would be â but James could hardly put a price on all that you had done for his sake, and imagining the look of delighted excitement on your face upon seeing the beautiful volume made it well worth any money he would spend to acquire it.
The pair of you retired to bed rather early, and once Anna had finished helping you undress, you curled up against the headboard as usual, book in hand as James completed his own nighttime preparations. However, it was not long before he had the distinct sensation that your eyes were upon him. It was not at all an unpleasant sensation â not like that tingling feeling of being watched by an unseen figure that had gooseflesh pricking at his flesh. Instead, it was far more like feeling a sunbeam falling across his bare shoulders, warm and golden. James, half-undressed, turned toward the bed.
You glanced back to your book as soon as you saw him looking, but not so quickly that he hadnât seen your eyes upon him for just an instant. Indeed, the slightly embarrassed smile that you were clearly trying to keep from your lips only confirmed this further. God, he loved you so bloody much.
âMrs. Norrington,â he began, working great exaggerated formality into his tone. Your gaze met his in an instant, your eyes bright with irresistible laughter, your smile no longer able to be repressed from your face. âI do apologize â am I distracting you?â
âThere is no need for apologies, Commodore.â The way you rolled his title playfully from your tongue was threatening to make him dizzy. âYou did not distract anyone who did not already wish to be distracted.â
Damn. James flushed instantly, pink ribbons of blush unfurling from his cheeks and spilling down his throat and across his upper chest. The shade only deepened further to know that, standing there with his shirt already removed, even in the low light of the candles, you would be able to see the physical effect your words had on him. Even if it was slightly embarrassing, perhaps it truly was for the best, because he didnât want you to think for even an instant that there was any part of him that remained unaffected by you. He swallowed, his ears warm as he wondered if, through the breeches he still wore, you could see the other physical effects that were manifesting themselves in his body.
He had hoped to come up with something at least vaguely clever and somewhat charming to say in response, but his mouth was quite dry indeed, his hands frozen where they still held his nightshirt as he prepared to slip it over his head. And then he had no chance whatsoever of producing any words, because you had tossed back the covers and set your book on the bedside table, sliding from the bed and quietly padding toward him. Jamesâ breathing was decidedly uneven as he stood motionless, very aware of the way the candlelight was silhouetting your lovely form through the loose drapes of your shift as he watched you approach.
âIâI think perhaps I wonât be needing this,â he said in a shaky whisper as you reached him, indicating to the nightshirt in his hands. Well, that was neither as clever nor as charming as he had hoped, but he supposed it didnât matter at all when your brilliant expression only grew brighter at his admittedly rather pathetic words, and when you were looking at him like that.
âNot unless you would like to get some immediate rest,â you responded, your words teasing but gentle, telling him that you truly would be happy to simply fall asleep in his arms if that was what he wished for. But although James alwayswished for that, in this moment, he was also wishing for something else first, something you clearly wished for as much as he did.
âMy rest is not an immediate need,â he murmured, leaning toward you, âunless yours is.â Your smile never dimmed as you let your forehead come to rest gently against his, already shaking your head in the negative.
âNor is mine,â you breathed.
James was barely even aware of his nightshirt falling from his hands as he released it; all he knew then was that he was kissing you with all the passionate desire he had carefully bottled up over the time the Wrights had been present in the house. Rather than holding his nightshirt, his hands were instead at your waist, fingers grasping at the loose fabric of your shift as he pulled you nearer. A rather indecorous noise spilled from his mouth into yours as he felt your body press flush against his own, soft and warm and evidently just as eager as he was, given how you were kissing him back with equal fervor as your hands wove into his hair.
Clinging to enough reason to maneuver the two of you back towards the bed without falling, James nevertheless did not release his hold on you, his hands settling on the gorgeous swell of your hips. He could feel the luxurious plush of your bosom pressed to his chest through the light fabric of your shift, and it was turning him into a man on the brink of madness, his desperate longing to touch all of you nearly becoming a physical ache in his hands.Â
Then you had reached the bed, and you broke away from him for just a moment so that you might situate yourself upon the mattress without stumbling backwards. James was gasping for breath and yet also desiring no air except that which was enclosed in your kisses. With his entire torso no doubt now deeply flushed and his chest still heaving, he joined you on the bed, kneeling on the mattress before you. God, you were heavenly in the golden light of the candles, your breathing just as unsteady as his own was, the untied collar of your shift already slipping off your shoulder and the hem of it hiked up so that he could see tantalizing peeks of your thighs. James surely was not going to end this night with his reason intact, and he was very much thrilled at that prospect.
âMay I?â His question was frail and breathless, the inquiry rather unfinished, but the way his fingers were hovering at the hem of your shift and just skimming over the warm skin of your thighs hopefully clarified what he was requesting.Â
âPlease,â was your only response, your voice as shaky and desperate as his own had been. Good lord, there was nothing on heaven nor earth that could move him such as hearing you say âpleaseâ with breathless wanting. To underline your affirmation, your hands joined his at the bottom of your shift, aiding him in lifting it upwards and over your head before it was tossed to the floor to lay beside his long-forgotten nightshirt.
God almighty, James had never seen anything as utterly beautiful as you, your body bare and soft in the glow of the candles which illuminated the warm expanses of skin that he alone had the unequaled pleasure of touching. James didnât prefer to think of himself as a selfish man, but there was something deep and visceral inside him that reveled in the knowledge that no one else would ever have the honor of seeing you like this, much less touching you. That incomparable privilege belonged to him alone.
That thought had another rather unseemly sound rising instinctively within him, and he was burying the noise in another deep kiss as his hands finally met your bared skin. He found himself nearly straddling your lap as you leaned back against the headboard, the proof of his desire now no doubt quite evident to you. But clearly your feelings on the matter echoed his precisely, because he could feel you nudging your hips toward him even beneath his weight, an utterly wondrous sensation that was made no less dizzying by the soft gasps which were slipping from your mouth into his as you kissed him with all the same eagerness he felt.
He leaned in nearer, attempting to give you more of himself to move against if you so wished, and in doing so, he allowed his hands to wander as they so ardently longed to, luxuriating in caressing the sumptuous plush of your bosom before languorously trailing the elegant curves of you down to your hips, relishing the luxurious softness of your stomach and thighs as he reverently touched each inch of you that he could reach, ensuring that there was not a fiber of your being that did not know of his utter adoration for you.
James was very nearly reaching the brink of complete delirium when he heard your gasps and sighs turn into soft whines, your hands pulling him closer as though he could never be near enough. He very much agreed, eagerly accommodating as much closeness as he could physically achieve in the current position.
But then you pulled back slightly, just a little. Your forehead remained pressed to his, your hands still looped around his neck and tangled in his hair even as your lips separated from his. In that moment, the entire world was just you and him and your indescribably lovely eyes and the gasping breaths born of mutual passion.
âI did not think this possible,â you whispered breathlessly, your eyes twin skies filled with pinwheeling fireworks of both cheery good humor and deep desire. Before James could collect himself enough to inquire as to what you meant, you continued: âI never imagined that I could feel so desperate, that I could desire someone so deeply.â
Oh dear. That was absolutely going to go to Jamesâ head. In fact, it already was, given the way he was suddenly feeling quite lightheaded and was relieved that his forehead was still pressed to yours so that he might not falter. To be able to both taste your desire for him like warm honey in your eager kisses and to hear you say that you desired him⊠Well, that was an ecstatic high which no man-made substance could ever replicate. Indeed, rather than any words, what his body managed to produce in response was a sound that no doubt told you far more than any articulate prose could have, and which he could not bury in your sweet kisses this time. But evidently, you did not mind if it might have been a bit improper, because the fireworks he was watching cascade across your eyes only multiplied.
âIn fact,â you continued, shifting even nearer, âI was told it was impossible.â The confession was a laugh-laced whisper that was making him want to do nothing for the rest of his whole bloody life but kiss you. âThose who sought to counsel me before my marriage said in no uncertain terms that the wife was not the one who did the desiring, and indeed that for any woman to do so would be rather unladylike.â
âI could not disagree more wholeheartedly.â His response was one he felt and believed so emphatically that the words emerged relatively easily from his lips despite his decidedly unsteady breathing.
Truly, James could not imagine sharing such intimacy with someone who did not desire him equally. To do so when the other party was unwilling or even indifferent would be abhorrent and vile and would leave him feeling so atrociously ill that he could never bring himself to do such a thing, even when marriage technically permitted it. He supposed other men did, but how they lived with themselves or ever got one wink of peaceful sleep again he could not imagine.Â
James also could not imagine sharing such intimacy with anyone but you. It was not merely that you desired him â although that thought alone was certainly enough to have sparkling warmth bursting to life within him â but that you wereyou. You were intelligent and charming and lovely and altogether perfect. If he ever could work up the courage to tell you, then he would inform you how he adored and desired you in every moment, not only the more heated ones. He had to impose stringent control upon himself when he was listening you speak with such animated excitement about a new discovery at the beach, curling his toes tightly within his shoes to ensure that he remained focused on what you were saying and not on how everything about how utterly endearing you were was affecting him deeply. He had to make subtle fists of his hands when he glanced up from his reading or correspondence to see you working on your embroidery with such enchanting concentration, and especially so when he was watching you play the pianoforte with such fluid ease so that neither of these temptations might lead him to doing something rash in the drawing room. Indeed, James did not desire â and could not even imagine desiring â anyone else but you, his beloved wife.
âYou do not find it unladylike?â you asked, your eyes glittering with irresistible teasing. James was quite certain that the sound which had slipped from his lips had assured you of his answer to that question.
âNot at all,â he affirmed anyway, leaning in even closer as he began to gently ease you down onto the pillows. You easily divined his intention and accommodated immediately, shifting your position so that you were no longer resting against the headboard but rather were cushioned by the pillows, looking up at him in such a way that James knew would be inscribed eternally into his memory for as long as he lived, and possibly long after. âActually, I find it very⊠alluring.â
That exceedingly delicate yet utterly true admission had his cheeks flaring with heat, but luckily you likely could not see the humiliating shade of red that now stained his face, because nearly as soon as he had managed to pull that last, trembling word from his constricting throat, you were kissing him like you had no need for air so long as your lips were on his. James felt precisely the same.
One of your hands was still woven into his hair, the other now touching him such that trails of stars were bursting to life in the wake of your fingers as they wandered his shoulders, tracing the outlines of his muscles that were now no longer as defined as they once had been in a time before he had even met you. But from the way your hands were dancing over him, reverently charting every line of him with utter adoration, it was clear that you didnât care a whit about that.Â
James gave up entirely on endeavoring to stifle the sounds that were now flowing quite freely from his lips into yours as you fingers found his chest, swirling in dizzying patterns across his flushed skin even as you never stopped kissing him. Your fingers were comet trails of warm light as they spiraled over his chest and stomach in the very small space between your body and his. Just as he had the first time you had touched him like this, Jamesâ arms started to tremble where they were braced against the mattress, his strength faltering in the wake of so much divine tenderness.Â
You seemed pleased that he was no longer as quiet as he often forced himself to be, because even through all the other heavenly sensations that were swirling around and through him in glittering clouds, he was fairly certain he felt you smiling into the kiss as the sounds that rose from deep within him vibrated through his whole body and then met your lips. In his current state, James was in no position to make proper sense of that discovery, and all his mind was telling him was that he should continue being less restrained, because it seemed to have made you happy.
And before his firework-filled mind could come to any more conclusions on the matter, he felt you press your hips up towards his, your deft fingers fluttering around the waistband of his breeches, and he summoned just enough strength and reason to keep himself from collapsing entirely upon you, even if his arms were shaking rather atrociously.
âMay I?â You repeated his earlier question back to him, an inquiry that spilled breathless from your lips even as they barely left his own. Your hand hesitating near the buttons on the fall-front of his breeches told him exactly what you were asking, and the answer was always going to be an emphatic, enthusiastic yes.Â
And when he responded in the delightful affirmative, he found himself also repeating your earlier response back to you, and his plea was just as desperate and brimming with desire as yours had been:
my heart's a sea â chapter one hundred and four (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist: (chaps 1-50) (chaps 51-100) (chaps 101 and beyond)
summary: Mrs. Norrington begins to conduct some research
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, mention of undead skeletons, pretty oblique sexual reference, a little bit suggestive; let me know if I missed anything!
words: 3097
authorâs note: so to be honest with y'all, I kinda feel like shit today, so when I was re-reading and editing this chapter before posting, I'm sure that totally colored my view of it and now I don't know if it's good or not even though I felt pretty good about it at points while I was writing it. I know that's not exactly a ringing endorsement lmao, but in the spirit of my diary-entry-style author's notes, that's where we are at the moment đ . this is probably just the way things go with longfics (this is by far the longest thing I've ever written so I don't have a ton of prior experience), but I feel like a lot of the more recent chapters have felt like maybe too narrative-y or like kinda boring? idk but I do apologize if that feels like the case! next chapter James and his wife will have some time to themselves again and I'm trying to brainstorm some nice, tender moments between just the two of them! anyway, I apologize for my needlessly rambling note, and I do really hope you enjoy the chapter! âșïž
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
this one is just a tiny bit suggestive, but just to be safe, I'm marking it 18+ â minors please do not interact
It did feel quite odd indeed to take breakfast in the dining room with the Wrights as though James had not, just hours before, revealed to you one of his most closely-guarded secrets, one that had the power to influence both your perception of the world, and of him, forever. But blessedly, the delicate vulnerability of that confession and all that came after only brought him closer to you.
He had gone down a bit early, since it seemed that Admiral Wright had some questions on the reports he had been progressing through over the last days, and so James had not been able to see your finished toilette. That was, of course, until you stepped into the dining room and he looked up instantly from the report he was clarifying for the admiral. James shot from his chair to stand and greet you, nearly setting the teacups to rattling in their saucers with his quick motion.
You looked so lovely it was making him breathless as he crossed the room in a few strides to offer you his arm and escort you to the table. No one would have known that you had lost considerable sleep the previous night with how sweetly you were smiling as you greeted George, your eyes bright with that beloved cheery light when you gave an even sweeter smile to James. He offered you his arm, and you took it instantly, giving his hand just the lightest, reassuring squeeze as you folded yourself against him, seeming to say that, despite everything last night, you were well.
It challenged his self-control considerably to not plant a kiss upon your cheek which within moments would likely become a full kiss upon your lips until James was quite assured that he hardly needed breakfast when he could live off your kisses instead. But alas, propriety prevented him, and with George already seated at the table and Henrietta entering not long after you, there was no chance for even a fleeting brush of his lips against your cheek.Â
As he had the previous day, James also sorely missed the goodbye kiss he always shared with you at the door. He made do instead with a kiss pressed reverently to your knuckles as he departed, even if such a gesture was rather risky, since it had him desperately wishing to fold you into his arms completely. But he had to forgo that desire and instead accompany Admiral Wright to the fort as he glanced back to see you give him a brilliant smile and a little wave from the doorway.
There was much to be done at the fort, and first on Jamesâ list was having a detailed consultation with Gillette so that he could communicate all the required information to the lieutenant before he accompanied the admiral on the rest of his tour. Wright, for his part, was conducting a full inspection of his ship with some of the portâs master carpenters to ensure that it would be ready to sail out again in a few days. James joined him in this endeavor in the afternoon, offering what advice he could on sailing for extended periods in tropical waters.
By the time the two of them were returning to the house, James was quite ready to collapse into your arms. It certainly had not been the most trying or tiring day he had ever experienced, but the admiralâs presence ensured that he was always highly cognizant of his own conduct as well as that of his men, and such hypervigilance was taking its toll on his reserves of energy. He so desperately longed for it just to be the pair of you in the house, where he could relax with you on the settee and not worry about being Commodore Norrington, but exist merely as James, your James.
Much to his relief, the subject of the Interceptor was not raised at dinner, and thus any attending fears or discomfort were avoided entirely. However, James thought he could detect the same tiredness that was settling into his own bones resting just beneath the surface of your charming, pleasant conversation. The Wrights would never have noticed, but as dinner progressed, he was more and more certain he could sense its presence. And lord, how could you not be tired? If he thought he was exhausted from constantly making certain he was in top form, then you must be nearly ready to collapse, given the demands that had been placed upon you. James at least had recourse to his duties and to some quiet, private moments in his office while the admiral was otherwise engaged, but you were no doubt entertaining Henrietta for most of the day. James would rather have been swabbing the Dauntlessâ decks from sunup to sundown like some common cabin boy than needing to make polite conversation all day and ensuring his guest remained always entertained. He really did wish to get you something, some form of gift that might at least partially convey the depth of his gratitude for everything you were undertaking for his sake.
Fortunately, not long after dinner, Henrietta announced her intention to retire early, and George indicted that he would join her; given that in a few days they would be at sea again, they both wished for some restful sleep on land. You and James bid them goodnight, and nearly as soon as you heard the guestroom door close, your hands were folding into his, soft and warm and wonderful. James could have cried at the sensation.
âMight you accompany me to the study?â you asked, stepping closer than you had permitted yourself to in the presence of the Wrights, much to Jamesâ great delight. âI have something I wish to show you.â
âYes, of course,â James responded immediately. You likely could have asked him if he wanted to trek to the highest point on the island and he still would have agreed without hesitation, but the study was a far more reasonable prospect. As soon as the two of you had gained the room and you had quietly closed the door, you moved to the table which typically served as your area for cleaning and sorting your collections, although it had been cleared for the Wrightsâ arrival. Now though, James saw that it was covered in neat stacks of books evidently pulled from the shelves that lined the walls, each volume sporting little scraps of paper sticking out from the pages that no doubt marked important places in the text.
âHenrietta had some correspondence upon which she wanted to work today,â you explained, your hand skimming over the collected volumes as James joined you by the table. âAnd while she was thus occupied, I took my leave to do a little work of my own.â
âAnd pray tell, what manner of work thus diverted you?â James was well aware of your remarkable ability to read texts on all manner of diverse subjects, and he had often seen you consult multiple manuals as you searched for the proper classifications of shells, but he didnât think he had yet seen you collect this volume of books at one time for a single purpose.
âI have been conducting research,â you informed him with some excitement, that irresistible spark of intelligent enthusiasm lighting up your eyes. âI confess that, until this point, my knowledge of such phenomena considered wondrous or preternatural was woefully lacking. My father preferred to study with specimens in front of him, or else with scientific instruments he could manipulate himself, and thus he possessed texts which described miraculous events, but put little emphasis on them in his own studies. Thus, today, I have sought to begin to amend that gap in my understanding.â
James was speechless, his knees already a bit weak. You had done all this for him, because of all he had told you. You turned to the tidy stacks of books on the table, skimming your fingers across some of the covers.
âI admit that I felt terribly helpless when hearing your account of the horrors you have witnessed,â you continued. âAnd thus I wanted to do something that might be of some use, even if it ultimately comes to nothing. Although I fear I might sound terribly melodramatic when I say it, my line of thought in undertaking this research began with the knowledge that, through careful study and observation over millennia, humanity has been able to understand nature such that it no longer poses the threat to us that it once did. And so, I thought â or at least I hoped â that by making as detailed a study as I could of phenomena that, admittedly, quite strongly resist being studied, I might be able to glean at least some useful information which might aid you in the future if the unthinkable were ever to happen and you were to encounter similar horrible entities.â
James was just a hairâs-breadth away from falling to his knees before you in the complete awe and adulation that you certainly deserved. After the terror he knew it had caused you, he had assumed that discussion on the matter of the decidedly unnatural phenomena he experienced would occur only infrequently, if at all. That would be entirely understandable, of course â he had locked it away in his memory and rarely thought of it for nearly the same reasons. But no, you had dedicated hours of your day to researching, to marshalling your remarkable powers of intelligence and curiosity to studying it so that the information you gathered might be of use in the future. If anyone had a chance of discovering a way to disenchant and defeat undead pirates, then it was certainly you. If all the marinersâ tales whispered about krakens and sirens and ghost ships and mermaids really were true, then James was quite assured that they hardly stood a chance against you, for after having gotten a good look at them, you would no doubt unpick their secrets and reveal the mechanism of their apparent magic as easily as you plucked seashells from the shore.Â
Instead of falling to his knees, he stepped closer to you, one hand finding your waist as his other cupped your cheek, indulging for a moment in just gazing into your lovely eyes and marveling at the fact that he had been granted the honor of marrying the most wonderful person he had ever met, of calling you his wife.
âYouâre incredible,â he breathed, his thumb brushing over the curve of your cheek as he held you, feeling your features fold into a shy smile beneath his hand.
âNo more incredible than you,â you returned, raising your hand to rest against where his was cradling your face. âFor you have faced true monsters in combat and came out the victor. I seriously doubt there are many men who can claim such a feat, even if I readily admit that I would far prefer that you had never faced them at all.â
Little roses of warmth bloomed in Jamesâ cheeks, and he cleared his throat quietly when his words became a bit stuck.
âThen I shall earnestly endeavor to never meet them again.â
âI should hope for their sake that you do not,â you responded, your words quiet but sparkling with just a lilt of lightness. âBecause if I hear of such a thing daring to come near you again, they will certainly not long survive what I have planned for them. In helping manage my fatherâs physical collections, I became very adept indeed at disarticulating skeletons, and I am not at all afraid to wield that skill against skeletal pirates who would do far better to remain in their watery graves.â
James was kissing you in the next instant, having no other expression for the way that complete and utter adoration was welling up inside of him and wishing to spill free from his body. Although the idea of you even seeing the fiends he had done battle with threatened to make him exceptionally ill, he could not deny that the image of you carefully disassembling each of the terrifying skeletons all while chastising them thoroughly for the damage they had caused was so completely charming that he was chuckling softly into the kiss. God, you made everything feel so wonderfully light, so beautiful and perfect in a way his life had never been before you.
Evidently you could taste the soft golden bubbles of his laughter as he kissed you, because he felt your little breaths of laughter against his lips in response, a sensation that never failed to be completely intoxicating. And then James was indulging in all the nearness he had needed to sacrifice earlier in the day, drawing you to him such that any onlookers would have gasped and glanced away. But there were no onlookers here. Instead, he felt your hands begin to lace around the back of his neck, your skirts spilling around his legs as your chest pressed to his, your flurried breathing matching his as you sank into the kiss with just as much fervor.
âHeavens, we truly are going to endanger our vow of chastity, arenât we?â you asked through gasping breaths when the two of you separated enough to inhale lungfuls of air, even if James would rather have been breathing in nothing but you, and he rather thought that you felt the same way about him. That thought was not helping his steadiness â or rather, his lack thereof â and he had to close his eyes for a moment as the edges of his vision blurred. It was doing nothing to aid him in recouping his stability to feel the way your hands were clutching at the wide, turned-back lapels of his uniform coat, evidently just as unsteady as he was. But he planted his feet, determined to remain upright.
âThey will be leaving again in a few days,â was the only breathless response he was able to manage. James was not a man to break vows, but even he could admit that this one was seriously challenging his long-honed self-restraint. You laughed your beautiful laugh at that, easily pulling a smile from his lips as you released his lapels, smoothing your hands over the fabric as though to banish any creases that your grip may have caused. Although he typically preferred his personal presentation to be immaculate whilst on duty, James could not deny that there was a part of him that would not have minded if permanent indentations appeared there in the shape of your hands, an enduring reminder of your closeness.
âThen I shall carefully count each one of those days.â You accented your cheerful response with one more sweet kiss to his lips. It took nearly all of his self-control to ensure that he did not immediately fold you into his arms again, kissing you so deeply he did very much risk breaking the vow of chastity the two of you had made.
âWhile we areâŠÂ abstaining then,â James began, needing to clear his throat halfway through the sentence as his cheeks pinked, âmight I inquire as to what you have discovered in your studies?â
âLittle, as of yet, I fear,â you responded with a small sigh. âIn the time I had today, I was merely perusing indices and marking points of interest to be explored further later. Perhaps while the Wrights are away I will have more time in my days to dedicate to focused study.â
âI hope you know,â he said softly, taking your hands carefully into his own, his fingers reverently tracing the shapes of your hands, âthat I can never fully express my gratitude to you for sacrificing your time and energy to entertain Mrs. Wright.â
âYou do not need to thank me, James,â you responded, your lips folding into a soft, lovely smile as you stepped nearer once more. âI am truly happy to do anything that might facilitate your excellent work receiving the recognition it deserves.â
One of your hands lifted from where it was clasped with his, reaching toward his face as you gently cupped his cheek, the brush of your thumb over the skin beneath his eye a comet trailing sparkling light and warmth behind. But you were looking at him as though he was the comet, as though you had never seen anything as miraculously, celestially wonderful as him. James inhaled a shaky breath, his knees very much threatening to buckle once more.
âEven so, might I be allowed to offer you a token of my appreciation?â The question was just a trembling whisper on his lips as he was already leaning in.
âAnd may I inquire as to what manner of token you might like to offer me?â Your voice was all irresistible playfulness and curling ribbons of lightness; he was quite certain from the way you were also leaning closer, your forehead nearly brushing his, that you already knew precisely what manner of token he had in mind.
âA kiss, perhaps?â
âIndeed, there is nothing I would like better.â
James was eagerly kissing you again then, attempting to retrain himself such that he put neither your nor his own resolve at risk of crumbling. But that was a monumental challenge when he could feel you smiling into the kiss, soft sighs beginning to escape from your lips as you looped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself nearer as you deepened the kiss. He deeply regretted that he was still wearing his wig and thus you could not wind your fingers through his locks, a sensation that was nothing short of heavenly, especially when your lips were on his and he was pressed as closely to you as he possibly could be.
But he needed to reroute his thoughts. The Wrights would be gone soon, and then he would be at liberty to let these imaginings become reality. Instead, James concentrated the entirety of his focus on absorbing the divine sensation of kissing you, sinking his lips onto yours as his hand shifted from your waist to your back, his fingers skimming over the boning of your stays beneath your bodice as he held you to him. You accommodated happily, shifting even nearer and slotting your body as close to his as either of you could manage given the restrictions of your gown and his uniform. And then James was aware of nothing but you all around him, and he was very contented to spend the rest of the evening in just such a position.
my heart's a sea â chapter one hundred and three (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist: (chaps 1-50) (chaps 51-100) (chaps 101 and beyond)
summary: another conversation (I am so bad at summaries lmao đ)
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, mention/brief description of undead skeletons, mention of death, angst, hurt/comfort; let me know if I missed anything!
words: 2939
authorâs note: and we're back!! âșïž first, I want to say that after feeling a bit uncertain about the last chapter, I feel quite good about this one, so I'm excited for you to read it!! âșïž I do try to commit a lot of thought to what I feel would be realistic, understandable reactions to the situations that the characters are placed in, and so I thought this one over for a while, and I'm happy with how it came out, so I hope you also feel that things are believable and in-character! âșïž
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
When James woke again, it was clear to him from the dark room all around that it was not yet morning. Yet he had not suffered another dream once he had been able to fall back asleep with you snuggled against him, your hand brushing soft, rhythmic caresses over him until he was able to ease into a much more peaceful sleep. So what had woken him?
It took him just an instant longer to answer that question: there was a quiet noise in the room, something like a muffled snuffling that James was only able to put a cause to when, in a panic, his slowly-clarifying senses informed him that you were no longer tucked against him, and he shot up, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the darkness in search of you. But to his great relief, you were not far; you were still next to him on the bed, but turned away from him, curled in on yourself. And shaking slightly. Oh God, you were crying.
His heart seized, pangs of pain jolting through his chest as he reached a trembling hand toward your shoulder, softly murmuring your name. You shifted your head from where it had been buried in the covers to quiet your sobs as his palm came to rest gently on your arm, and the sight of your utterly distraught, tearstained face was only intensifying the feeling that his body was being riddled with shrapnel.
âJames!â you gasped softly, also pushing yourself up to sit. âOh heavens, Iâm so sorry â I truly did not mean to wake you.â You were instantly passing the sleeves of your shift over your face, trying to clear away the evidence of your tears, and James leaped in to help, gathering the hem of his nightshirt to tenderly brush the tears from your cheeks.
âMy love,â he breathed, letting the fabric of his nightshirt fall away even as his hand remained cupping your cheek, âwhat has happened? Are you unwell?â
You looked back at him for a moment, your eyes still watery with lingering tears and your soft lips trembling as though threatening to break into another sob. Lord, there was no sight that could wreck him like this, watching the faint moonlight catch in the tears that were welling in your eyes, the lovely lines of your features all veiled in sorrow such that James thought he might actually be able to feel the fractures splintering through his heart. Your tear-rimmed eyes searched his, and he brought his other hand to join its pair in cradling your face, ready to beg you to tell him what was troubling you. But you answered him before it came to that.
âIâm terrified.â
Your response was just a faint whisper from your lips, the words barely ghosts of themselves, but so freighted with emotion that James could hear the way your voice shattered as you breathed this confession of your own fear, rendering it all sharp edges and jagged points that he could tell were hurting you.Â
It took him no time at all to determine what had made you terrified, and instantly his guilt was dropping like a cannonball into his stomach, cold and heavy and dragging him under. He should not have told you. He should never have told you.
âI am so sorry,â he breathed back, his hold on you exceedingly gentle even as he wished to ball his hands into fists until his nails made half-moons of pain on his palms, a punishment for the sorrow and fear he had caused you. His own voice was cracking, hot, salty tears rising in his throat at the knowledge that this was his fault.
âNo,â you murmured back, shaking your head slightly as though to banish his apology. âNo, James, Iâm glad you told me â I would never have wanted you to hold this alone.â There was such evident sincerity glowing in your voice, filling in the shattered seams with gold and gently lifting the full heft of the guilty cannonball away from the pit of his stomach. âWhen I made a vow to share this life with you â even if at the time I didnât yet know what an exquisite blessing that would be â I meant it: I wish to share everything with you, the sorrow along with the joy.â
Lord, you were far and away the best thing that had ever happened to him. James could summon no coherent verbal response, so instead he let his hands fall away from your cheeks so that he might fold you into his embrace, hoping that the way he held you with all the devotion in him conveyed everything he could not quite put into words. He felt you ease so naturally into his hold, your arms wrapping around him in turn as you rested your head against his shoulder, and he took your delicate sigh that was trembling with contentment and relief as a sign that you understood all he struggled to say.
âThey cannot hurt you, I promise.â He breathed the words against you, his lips pressed to your hair as he stroked a comforting hand up and down your back, the pads of his fingers relishing the warmth of you that soaked easily through the fabric of your shift. âWhatever accursed, infernal entity which caused them to be thus has been satiated. What I described no longer exists.â
You eased yourself backwards just the slightest bit then, raising your head from his shoulder so that you might see him.Â
âIt is not the issue of my own safety that troubles me,â you whispered, your lovely eyes twin galaxies with stars caught in the tears welling within them once more. âThinking of you facing such a thing, Iââ You glanced away as your voice fractured, splintering your sentence as fissures of pain went cracking through your words. âImagining you being forced to confront those horrible beasts terrifies me such that I am almost ill with it.â That last confession slipped from your lips as barely a breath, the truth of it so clear in your widened, teary eyes and trembling voice. Your hand fluttered to your mouth, as though you truly were feeling physically ill.Â
You were worried about him. In fact, you were so worried about him that it had reduced you to sobbing quietly in the dark so as not to wake him, nausea stirring in your stomach at the very thought of him doing battle with the fiends.Â
For a moment, James could summon no response whatsoever except letting his slightly-shaking hands come to rest reverently upon your shoulders, his lips parting to form words that did not emerge from his mouth. In everything there was to fear in all he had told you, what terrified you most was the thought of him being in danger. Something like a choking sob tried to escape his throat, the only expression he had for the monumental feelings that were filling him with a humming, warm light until he was certain he must be both glowing and trembling with it.
âTh-They cannot hurt me either,â he finally managed, his thumbs spinning slow, gentle circles on your shoulders. âThey are well and truly gone now.â
Despite the reassurance in his words, James could see your eyes filling with tears again, your lips quavering as you fought back another sob. Now it was his turn to feel ill, the sight of you in distress filling his stomach with cold, briny seawater.
âYes, they might be gone, butââ you started, your words cutting themselves off as another round of sobs overtook you.Â
And then, in one sudden motion, you were standing from the bed as though the overwhelming terror within you had become uncontainable within your own body. James was right behind you, uncertain that he had ever seen such an utterly heartbreaking sight as you standing in the darkened room in the pale fabric of your shift, your arms wrapping around yourself as you attempted to stifle your sobs. His hands were then upon your shoulders once more as he stood before you, murmuring the sweet melody of your name and hoping to God he could find the right words to comfort you.
âBut what if there are more?â The question was hoarse and pulled taught with fear, your warm eyes widened in terror and rimmed with tears as you looked back at him. âIfâIf such aberrations of nature exist, then what else might be out there?â you continued, your words beginning to pour out in a flurried, terrified tidal wave. âI told myself that I could bear it, that I simply wouldnât think of the cannons and the pistols and the swords, and then I could still sleep at night whilst you were away, but thisâ I fear that imagining the very possibility of you facing such horrors is well beyond my ability to bear. Lord, I promised myself that wouldnât be selfish and that I would surrender you to your duties when necessary, but James, IâI donât think that I shall ever be able to allow you to go to sea again.â
Then you were weeping in earnest, your sobs setting your whole body to shaking as you folded in on yourself. Thank God it was now second nature for James to wrap you immediately into his arms, your head finding its rest against the crook of his neck as you continued to tremble with sobs in his embrace.Â
He was struggling mightily to make sense of all that he was feeling, the way you were shaking sending earth-shattering tremors through him that threatened to rend him asunder to so viscerally feel your distress. But there were other sensations too, an intensification of that warm, glowing feeling that had James thinking he must be filled with stars and fireflies. That particular sensation was rendered all the more potent by the way he could feel the press of your body against his, the warmth of you soaking into his skin, the shape of you held in his arms, the unquestionable reality of you folded into his embrace, weeping, and telling him that you couldnât bear to think of him in danger.Â
It was moments such as these when James became acutely conscious of himself, of the miracle of his life. He was married to a woman he loved so deeply that even all the oceans of the earth could not contain the magnitude of his adoration, and that very woman, his beloved wife, you, were folded into his arms, sobbing and telling him that you had tried to be selfless and permit the navy to have his time and attention when required, but that you truly wished he would never leave, that if you had your way, he would be at your side forever. And good God, that was precisely where James most wanted to be.
All he could do then was hold you, letting the shape of your body mold perfectly against his as he fought back tears of his own. He so desperately wished that he could make a promise to you that he would never leave again, but he could not. James was sharply aware that his duties would continue to call him to sea, and that those duties served a greater good than his own personal desires, even if, in moments like this, he ardently wished that was not the case. If only he could be a more selfish man, one who did what he pleased rather than what was asked of him. But then he would not be himself, and likely you would not love this imagined, rash, impetuous version of himself the way you loved the true version. Because you loved him, all of him, and that was a divine honor that he would never squander with foolish, imaginary realities.
He wished also that he could promise you that he would never again face such fiends as those he had described to you, but James did not make hollow promises â especially not to you. And as much as he wanted it to be untrue, he occasionally permitted himself to stray into those thoughts that you had just expressed: that if these aberrations to the natural order could exist, then there might also be others. Sailors were a superstitious bunch, and seafaring legend was filled with beasts and monsters. He typically gave little credence to these fantastical fears, but after seeing a manâs flesh melt away in the moonlight to reveal nothing more than pale bones that composed a living skeleton, there were moments when he wondered. So it would be disingenuous of him to make such a promise when, in truth, he did not know what else might be haunting the shadowed waters of unfamiliar seas.Â
But perhaps there was one thing he could promise you.
âI will always come home to you.â
He breathed the vow with his lips pressed to your hair, the words sealed with a kiss that he placed upon you like a benediction, a promise not to be broken.Â
You pulled away gently then, just enough so that you might look at him, your perfect eyes filled with constellations that would forever guide him back home to you. There were still rims of tears around your eyes even if they seemed to be falling less in earnest now, and all he could see in the depths of your gaze was the kind of love that could bring him back from the grave.
âDo you promise?â The question was trembling and delicate from your lips, but weighted with emotion like dewdrops on the gossamer threads of a spiderweb, sparkling as they caught the light.
âIÂ promise.â
James had known it before, and he knew it all the more profoundly now: there was no death final enough to extinguish the adoration he felt for you. He carried it in his chest not like a flame that could be snuffed out, but rather like a guiding star that now lived not in the sky above, but in his heart, eternally glowing there such that even the shadow of death could not eclipse it.Â
Those accursed pirates had been raised from watery graves by infernal sorcery, and James knew that what he felt for you was leagues stronger than any unholy blood magic, so why could that heavenly power not also deliver him from the clutches of death and back into your arms? He would wash up on the shore as a pile of skin and bones if he needed to, uniform in tatters and body littered with wounds that he should not have survived. But he would swim the ocean if he needed to, would drag himself from the briny depths and shake off the clutches of death itself if it meant returning to you. He would come home to you. Always.
As he pronounced his promise with all the oceans of devotion and sincerity within him, his vow to always return to you, his favorite smile began to bloom on your lips, the one that shone brightly enough to guide him back from the farthest sea. He raised one hand to cup your cheek, holding you reverently and suddenly thinking of the very first time he had ever performed this action: at the wedding. James had made vows to you then too, and had sealed them with a kiss, even if he had aimed for the corner of your mouth rather than your lips in a desperate, possibly futile attempt to assure you that he would never take what you did not wish to give. But now he knew the heavenly sensation of your lips sinking onto his; he knew what it was to love you with everything in him and be loved by you in equal measure, and that knowledge was nothing short of truly divine. So perhaps this was his chance to redo that wedding kiss, to finally seal those vows and this promise in all their fullness with the innate understanding that he would want no one else but you, as long as you both shall live, and even longer still than that.Â
James leaned into kiss you as he would have at the wedding if he had then had the unparalleled privilege of knowing and loving you the way he did now, with the glorious knowledge that you felt precisely the same for him. His lips were slow and gentle as they met yours, easing into the kiss as though it was the very first time and yet also with the awe of having been granted the honor of having shared so many kisses since then, as well as with the glorious promise of uncounted kisses to come.Â
You kissed him back in kind, your hand lifting to weave through his hair as one of his still cradled your face and the other came to rest at your waist, drawing you always nearer. You kissed him the same way he was kissing you: as though you could never get enough, but also as though you wanted to savor every single second that your lips were against his. The kiss was slow and languid, blooming into fullness like gardens of roses and lilies blossoming in the warm summer sun. James was a man who knew what it was to be devoted, to give his all to something, and he was now channeling every ounce of that steadfast devotion into the way he was kissing you, ensuring you knew that every bit of his devotion, of his love, was yours forever.
my heart's a sea â chapter one hundred and two (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist: (chaps 1-50) (chaps 51-100) (chaps 101 and beyond)
summary: a nightmare and a conversation
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, canon-typical violence and danger, descriptions of undead skeletons, nightmares, angst, hurt/comfort, trauma; let me know if I missed anything!
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
What bothered James most was that he could not tell where the hell he was. It was a ship â of that he was certain â but he could not ascertain which vessel it was despite his great familiarity with ships of all types. Everything was mired in a thick fog that seemed to cling to every surface, leaving each feature of the vessel blurry and indistinct. He stumbled forward along the planks of the deck, searching for a fellow officer or the crew, but all was eerily silent except for the wood of the hull creaking as it rocked on the waves.
But then there was a noise, a footstep. James whipped around, all his senses alert as he squinted his eyes in an attempt to peer through the fog and discover who else was on this strange ship. A figure began to materialize, the shadowy shape of it growing more distinct as it moved closer. He could tell that it was a person, but whether friend or foe he could not hope to determine. His hand hovered over his sword, watching the figure clarify itself.
The unsettling silence that blanketed the ship was sliced in half as James drew his sword in the same instant that he watched the figure step out of the mist, the sharp metal ringing in the still air. The person who was standing before him now was most certainly a foe, and nearly indisputably a pirate. The manâs hair was long and unkempt, his clothing ragged, his face scarred, making his smile warped and wicked as his eyes locked onto James.
Years of training and all his time on duty dealing with just such miscreants ensured that it was second nature for Jamesâ body to assume the proper stance, his every muscle a bowstring held taught and ready to fire. Before he could lunge though, sickly beams of strangled moonlight fought their way through the clinging mist and entirely transformed the man before him.
Human flesh melted away like wax beneath a hot flame, leaving bare bones and stringy sinews behind, his clothes going from tattered to barely scraps that more fully revealed the horrifying transformation that was occurring before Jamesâ very eyes. A thin, icy wind whistled sickeningly through the manâs exposed ribs as he became naught but a living skeleton, his grin all the more chilling when it was set not within a face, but rather the hollow white bone of a bare skull.Â
Jamesâ palm went slick where he held his sword, a kind of visceral horror creeping through him like a tide of ice that set the very marrow of his bones to recoiling in revulsion. His heart was nearly as loud as a cannon in his chest, firing off desperate shots of instinctive fear as he readjusted his position, never taking his eyes off the unholy creature that stood before him even as everything in him wished to look away, to unsee this aberration of nature that was surely never meant for human sight.Â
And then there were more sounds, more footsteps. James did not have to look to know what they were. He could sense them in the way his skin felt as though it were being crawled upon by a thousand tiny, slimy creatures, their feet leaving gooseflesh in their wake until an irrepressible shudder shivered through him at the awful sensation.Â
His mind felt nearly as fogged as the ship around him; he could not determine what his next move should be. James was always planning ahead, looking for the next logical step, but here, something about the unnatural beings that he knew were surrounding him was stalling his reason, leaving him standing in the midst of them with a drawn sword and breaths that were becoming more ragged by the moment. It was so much worse that he was the only one breathing.
âJames?â
His heart plummeted straight to the deepest underwater trench the sea contained and then perhaps further still than that, all the air crushed out of his chest as the full, freezing weight of the ocean settled upon him. He had not even considered that this was a possibility, and would not have been able to stomach it if he had dared to imagine it. But no, he was certain that was your voice. James would know the sweet sound of it anywhere, could hear it even over screaming winds and crashing waves. And now he was hearing it here, on this cursed, fog-choked ship with its ring of hellish, undead pirates, and all he could think was that he needed you to be safe.
James turned to your voice instantly, and it was almost worse that the perpetually-grinning skulls around him barely reacted to the movement. He wasnât certain he was breathing at all as he watched you move closer through the mist, evidently unable to see the unearthly horrors that surrounded him through the thick fog. He wanted to scream, to yell at you to run, to jump from the ship and not look back. But his mouth felt as though it was filled with briny seawater, choking him as he went under, and no sound came out.
âJames!â you exclaimed with such joy and relief as you emerged from the fog and could see him clearly that it nearly brought him to his knees, his heart dropping deeper into the crushing darkness. There must have been a stopper in his throat, because the thousands of words of warning that he wanted to scream until his throat was raw and bleeding refused to emerge from his lips.Â
God, you looked so lovely even here, in this horrible, ungodly place, your smile a far kinder shade of moonlight as it fell upon him, your beautiful, star-flecked eyes all for him as you stepped closer. Perhaps if he could not tell you to run, then he could at least fold you into his arms and stand as a shield before you when the skeletal devils all around finally decided to attack. But then even that plan was dashed, because as you moved toward him, your motion was suddenly arrested.
A soft exclamation of surprise leapt from your lips, and your eyes traveled the same path that Jamesâ did: to your arm that was now held in the bony grip of one of the skeletal pirates. There was no earthly thing that James could have compared his feelings too; even a hurricane or a maelstrom was tame and mild compared to the absolute onslaught of rage and fear that were rushing through him, his stomach turning over and his knees threatening to buckle as these powerful emotions overcame him entirely. His grip tightened on his sword. These creatures had no doubt crawled from the depths of hell, and James would send them back himself.Â
âJames!â The utter fear in your voice was turning him into more of a storm than a man as the fiendâs grip tightened on your arm, the unyielding bones of its hand denting your flesh. James was a hurricane and a wildfire all in one, a spiraling tempest of flame that reached from the heavens down to the depths of the ocean, churning up water and fire until he was certain he would leave nothing but complete destruction in his wake.Â
He lunged toward the beast who had dared to touch you, and in an instant, everything was in motion. Fleshless bones flashed in a whirlwind around him as all the creatures descended, but if they were hurting him, he felt no pain at all. The only thing of which he was conscious at all was your voice screaming his name: James!
âJames!â
James shot awake, already sitting up before he fully registered his surroundings. The room was filled with a soft, quiet darkness, friendly moonlight peeking through the drapes as their edges fluttered a little in a cool breeze that lifted the light scent of night-blooming flowers into the room. There was no ship and no fog and no skeletal pirates. He was at home, in bed, beside you. He was safe. You were safe.Â
His breathing came out in ragged gasps as he folded in on himself amongst the tousled sheets, his heart ricocheting wildly around in his ribs. He could feel where his sweat had plastered the thin fabric of his nightshirt to his skin, stands of hair sticking to his face and the back of his neck. But most of all â and most importantly â he could feel you.
You were sitting up beside him instantly, your hands already on him, your exquisitely gentle touch brushing away the hair that was clinging to his face. James realized then that it was your voice which had awakened him, that you must have been murmuring his name in an attempt to rouse him from his nightmare in the same manner he did for you. When he was finally able to meet your gaze, he found your eyes filled with such genuine concern for him that he wished for nothing more than to collapse into you. And so he did. James was far past caring whether others might deem it weak or pathetic, because he knew that you would not. He needed you. Desperately.Â
He allowed himself to crumble into your arms, and you wrapped him in your embrace immediately, letting him settle his face against the soft bend where your neck met your shoulder, burying himself there until there was nothing at all in the world but you. Your hands were passing over him with such infinite tenderness that it only had him folding himself against you even more closely. He could so clearly sense where one of your kind hands was carding lightly through his hair, the other rubbing gentle caresses up and down his back. James was not entirely sure whether he was shaking and gasping because he was sobbing or because he was still fighting to steady his wildly uneven breathing â likely it was both.
âOh, my love,â you murmured, your lips pressed to his hair as you held him. James was only pulling you closer, filling his arms with the wonderful, comforting shape of you, inhaling nothing but your lovely, familiar scent as he tucked his head against you. The soft warmth of you soaked into his own clammy skin until he was seeing nothing but sun-kissed beaches and glittering blue water with no trace of cursed pirates or eerie moonlight or unfamiliar seas.Â
After a few long moments of James measuring his breathing to the steady rhythm of yours, he exhaled a shuddering breath and eased his shaking arms away from their desperate grasp on you until he could see you. Thank the lord almighty for you! You were looking back at him with so much love that he was nearly ready to begin weeping once more, your hand reaching forward to brush another wayward lock of his hair away from his face.
âPerhaps we ought to have some light,â you said quietly with a sweet, reassuring smile before you turned to light a candle on the bedside table, filling the room with a golden glow that banished the very last traces of sickly, unnatural fog from his mind.
James was fairly certain that the additional light of the candle only revealed him to be even more of a mess, his hair no doubt an unsalvageable disaster, his nightshirt all askew, his eyes red from crying as sticky tear tracks scarred across his hectic, pinkened cheeks. It revealed you to be utterly heavenly though, the kindest, loveliest, most wonderful angel heaven could have sent him now sitting in her nightclothes before him as though there was no place you would rather be than at his side, even if he was something of a shipwreck of a man in this moment.
He watched your eyes flick over him as though looking for any signs of hurt or damage, assuring yourself that he was well, and that he had merely been afflicted by a nightmare and no bodily ailment had besieged him. Evidently having found him to be well, you met his gaze again, your eyes glowing with a light warmer than the candle, the only lighthouse he needed to guide him home.
âIs there anything I might do for you?â you asked quietly, your voice brimming with care as you gathered the skirt of your shift and began using it as a makeshift handkerchief to wipe gently at his tear-stained face. âCould I make you a cup of tea, or perhaps acquire the remains of tonightâs dessert?â
James just shook his head. There was only one thing in the entire world that he needed:Â you. And you were already there with him, your gentle hands passing over his cheeks with more tenderness than he had ever known could exist before he knew you.
âNo,â he was finally able to articulate as you completed your work on his lingering tears, his voice still sticky and hoarse. âIââÂ
His words cut themselves off then, uncertain what he truly wanted to say. Your eyes were all for him, clearly waiting to see what he intended to say next, if he might tell you that you could do something for him. God, how had he gotten so lucky to have merited all your love and care, especially when he adored you in equal measure?Â
And it was as he was meditating on this glorious fact, happily sinking into the warm depths of your lovely eyes, your hands easing forward to hold his own, your gentle fingers dancing over his skin and leaving sunbursts of warmth behind, when his next words tumbled from his lips entirely unbidden and without forethought.
âDoâDo you believe in curses?â
Instantly, James wished to pull the covers over his head and sink into the bed with an agonized groan. What a completely atrocious question, entirely unprompted and utterly inelegant. It made him sound like a silly, fanciful child feverishly whispering wild secrets which could only be thought up by a sleep-addled mind in the middle of the night. But before he could recant it and assure you that he was being foolish and had spoken without thinking, your features had folded into that endearing expression of serious thought.
âIâI donât know,â you responded hesitantly, a question lifting the words up at the end as though you were uncertain why he was asking. James also could not imagine what the hell had compelled him to make the rash inquiry. âThey do speak of such things in old religious tracts, and ancient texts from Greece and Rome which I have read also mention curses, but I suppose Iâve never given it enough dedicated thought to consider whether or not I believe them to be real.â You paused then, your lovely eyes searching his without a trace of judgement for his unexpected, impulsive inquiry. âDo you believe in curses?â
âIââ For the second time in just moments, James could not make himself speak. His voice caught in his throat much as it had in his dream, as though there was a cork holding it down. Concern welled up in your eyes instantly as he fumbled atrociously with his words.
âI hope you know that nightmares are utterly normal,â you reassured him with such gentleness that the corners of his eyes were tightening again. You shifted even closer, your knees pressed to his as you gathered his hands and pulled them into your lap, cradling them there. âAs youâve seen from⊠well, from my own experiences with them,â you continued quietly, âitâs quite natural for difficult events to leave an impression upon oneâs subconscious.â
âIâ thank you.â James understood then that you had put together the fragmented, ill-fitting pieces of his words and come away with the idea that he believed he was cursed with nightmares. And how could you not? He had woken up from a horrible dream, and nearly immediately after he had recovered, he asked you if you believed in curses; it was a perfectly logical conclusion. If only the true reason he had asked was just as logical.Â
For a long moment, James seriously considered leaving it there. He could crawl back under the covers with you tucked against him, snuggling into his embrace as he wrapped his arms happily around you and drifted back to sleep. But you were watching him so intently, your bright, perceptive eyes meeting his own, and he was quite assured that he would never be able to fully convince you that there was not something else â something deeper â that was affecting him. He knew that you would be far too kind to ask, not wanting to distress him further, but it hardly seemed fair to not tell you. You were his wife for Godâs sake! What was he going to do, just not tell you forever? For the rest of his life and yours, would he simply carry the secret of what he had witnessed like a tiny piece of shrapnel that couldnât be removed from his body, scarred over and mostly forgotten, but sometimes still causing a twinge of pain? No, that was utterly ridiculous. But then again, what he was considering telling you was also bound to seem rather ridiculous.
James heaved a sigh, closing his eyes for a moment, all his concentration trained upon where your hands were cradling his, your fingers and palms so soft and warm against his skin. Internally, he weighed his options. You could think he was mad â surely anyone who was rambling on about cursed, undead pirates must have some affliction of the mind â and he could not blame you for thinking it. But somehow, a quiet but reassuring internal voice that sounded quite a lot like yours promised him that you would not. And anyway, it reasoned, you had told him many things that others had pressed you to keep secret, entrusting all of yourself so fully into his care and blessing him with a kind of wondrous, intimate knowing that he had never experienced before you. Plus, he had already shared with you some of his memories that he had never revealed to anyone â Louise, his father, his years at boarding school â and you had held all of him with such exquisite tenderness, caring deeply even for the parts of him he often wished to forget. So he should tell you.
With what he hoped was a steadying inhale, James opened his eyes to find you looking back at him, his hands still cradled with yours in your lap, and he wondered why he had worried for even a second. Absolutely everything in your beautiful, warm eyes was telling him that you loved him completely, and he knew that there was nothing he could share with you now that would change that. James charted a new course for the peaceful, star-strewn ocean of adoration that was glowing in your eyes, rolling on forever.
âThe events that Admiral Wright described at dinner,â James began, his voice as level as he could manage, âthe ones relating to the Interceptor and pirates and a place called Isla de Meurta â they⊠well, the memories of those events are what troubled me in my sleep, primarily because they were⊠decidedly unnatural.â
And then he was in it before he could panic and stop himself, rather haltingly describing to you those things he had seen which he so ardently wished he could scrub permanently from his memory. Your hands never once released their gentle hold on his â thank God! â and he used that lovely point of contact with you to keep himself moored, to ensure that he did not sweep himself out to some unforgiving sea with the horrors of his own recollections. Your eyes were trained upon him, widening slightly as his story became stranger and stranger, but not once did your expression fold into dismissal or derision. No, instead â when James was brave enough to meet your eyes as he spoke â he found you gazing back at him with intense concentration, listening with rapt attention to everything he was relaying.
He had gone in with the intention of trying to soften some parts of the experience so as not to frighten you completely with his all-too-real ghost stories, but he soon found that there was little that could be softened about unkillable pirates who turned into animate skeletons in the moonlight, revealing their true nature. He rambled on about cursed gold and blood payments and slaughtered crewmates and a terrifying nocturnal battle that had finally been won. He let these memories that had been locked up for so long in a dusty, forgotten corner of his mind finally spill from his lips until there was nothing left to say, until he had poured the dark water of his very deepest secret into your gentle hands and watched you catch and hold it all with the same infinite tenderness and profound understanding with which you always held the rest of him.Â
He finished when the words were no longer rising high behind his teeth like water on the other side of a seawall, begging to break through. James had told you everything, had emptied the hidden recesses of his heart and mind until there was nothing left to be witnessed, until you knew it all. And when he stopped speaking, you took a small, shuddering breath, your hands never leaving his.Â
âDoes Admiral Wright know?â you asked quietly. Of all the many thousands of questions you could have asked, he had not expected that one. It was so⊠practical, so mundane in comparison to everything he had just relayed that it almost set him to adoring laughter, so utterly charmed was he by the fact that fate had indeed brought together two similar souls, because it was just the sort of logical question he might have asked had his place been swapped with yours.Â
âNo,â James whispered back, shaking his head in the negative. âNothing of this was described in the report. It was a decision we made collectively to never speak of it again.â
Your face was intensely thoughtful then, your eyes unfocused as though you were deeply considering everything he had just told you as he finally unburdened himself. And for a moment, James regretted it. He regretted subjecting you to this, making you hear all these horrible things just so his own conscience my feel a bit less weighty. But then he reminded himself that he would have equally regretted not telling you, of letting an unspoken secret remain between the two of you for the rest of your lives. So, in the quiet of your contemplation, knowing it was right to have told you, all James could hope for was that you wouldnât deem him mad.
But in the thoughtful stillness before you rendered your verdict, his mind decided to coast with abandon upon the tidal wave of his own fears now that they had been loosed from their typical tight bonds by the terror of his dream. His thoughts were reminding him how intelligent you were, how attuned to even the smallest details of the natural world, and so of course you would think he was utterly mad. There was no world in which what he had just told you was logical or natural or even believable â he knew that very well. And perhaps now you would think that you had been sent to marry a madman who had successfully played the role of upright naval officer until this moment when he revealed that his mind had been addled by years of cannon fire and acrid smoke and constantly-shifting seas. His worst imaginings were already showing him scenes of you charily avoiding him, drawing back your hand instead of touching him, watching him with wary eyes, never fully trusting him again. James couldnât bear the terrible thought.Â
âDo you think me mad?â he breathed desperately when his own doubts finally reached this unignorable pitch in his mind. He hated to interrupt â surely you needed time to process the extent of everything he had just told you â but he could no longer stand not knowing.Â
Your eyes met his again in an instant, a little haze of confusion falling over your expression as the delicate lines of your features tightened slightly in befuddlement.
âNo, no â of course not, James!â You said it as though it had never even been a question in your mind, as though he had told you what was likely the most outlandish thing you had ever heard, and you had never once presumed that he might be mad. God, what had he done to deserve you? âNo, you are without doubt the most clear-headed and steadfast man I have ever met,â you told him, your hands shifting against his and gently enfolding them, your fingers tracing the lines of him with nothing short of adoration. What had been Jamesâ small sigh of relief threatened to turn into a small sob. âI trust your perception of events without question.â You squeezed his hands gently to accent that final statement, his favorite smile just beginning to pull up the corners of your lips.
âItâs just that I⊠may need some time with this,â you said quietly then. âNot because I disbelieve you,â you added hurriedly, âbut because it is rather a lot to take in.â You ended that sheepish confession with a soft, lovely laugh that had James chuckling quietly along in spite of everything. Lord, you made him feel like he could face anything, even the most terrifying events he had ever experienced. âThere is much I wish to say and ask, but I fear it has often been my way that I must ruminate upon things in the quiet of my own mind before I know what I truly understand and what it is that I donât yet know and thus wish to discover. Thus, I must ask if I may⊠sit with all you have told me for some time.â
âYes, yes â of course!â His hands were clasping yours in turn, rushing to somehow assure you that even if the two of you never spoke of this again, he could at least know that he had not kept anything from you, that you knew all of him just as he had the divine privilege of knowing all of you.
âThank you for telling me,â you murmured then, each word weighted with such genuine gratitude, anchors finally dropping into the sand of a safe port. âIâI cannot imagine what you have endured, and I can only be endlessly grateful that you have trusted me to carry this with you.â He loved the way you had phrased it; indeed, these memories no longer seemed so heavy when he was carrying them with you.
Halos of tears were ringing your soft eyes even as your perfect smile was lighting up Jamesâ entire world. You leaned in then, and he happily did the same, his forehead nearly brushing yours as you raised one hand from where it was folded with his to cradle his cheek, the warmth of your palm meeting his skin like the most welcome of sunbeams.Â
âI have made the study of the natural world and its phenomena one of the pursuits of my life,â you murmured, your thumb brushing gentle caresses over his cheek. âAnd it seems that despite the years I have dedicated to this task, in one night I have discovered just how much I do not know nor fully understand. However, I do know one thing with absolute certainty: you are the bravest man in all the world.â
James knew with a kind of intuitive certainty that you werenât only talking about having done battle with cursed pirates â although you certainly did mean that â but also about having told you of it. And then there was no longer any room in his mind for doubt or regret. The sails in his chest were filling to full canvas, lifted by the glorious wind that was stirred in his soul by the knowledge that you found him brave. Indeed, that you thought him the bravest man in the world. James was quite certain that he did not truly live up to such a distinction, but he did know that with you at his side, he felt braver than he ever had in his life. The winds of adoration and devotion that were now filling his sails were pointing him onwards toward new, magnificent horizons that he could only dream of now that his skies were filled with your guiding stars, your hand with its matching wedding band resting atop his own on the wheel as a he sailed far from cursed pirates and cruel seas and instead set his course for the promise a wonderful future he would share with you.
my heart's a sea â chapter one hundred and one (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist: (chaps 1-50) (chaps 51-100) (chaps 101 and beyond)
summary: the Norringtons have dinner with the Wrights
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, mention of drinking alcohol as a metaphor, memories of canon-typical violence, implied trauma from said violence
words: 1576
authorâs note: okay. so. here's the thing. I've been working on this chapter for many days, and it's actually like 6k words because the convo that I keep alluding to is one that I set up in this chapter and then which will actually happen in the next. I was originally going to do it as one long chapter, but tbh when I was writing the ending last night, it just felt all over the place and ooc and like it just wasn't coming together, so that second part of the chapter (which will now be chap 102) needs a bit more workshopping before I publish it. so I sincerely apologize for this very short chapter! I really was intending to post the much longer one, but I just don't think it's ready đđ
also, I struggle to do this, but my therapist tells me it's a good idea, so this is me very nervously asking for any words of affirmation about the story that you might wish to share (and if you don't have any, no worries - that's totally fine too! I'm just thrilled that you're here and reading my work! đ„°đ„°). my preliminary exams are coming up which is making me feel all kinds of anxiety, and then when this chapter didn't come together like I wanted it to last night...... idk I think I'm just feeling very fragile and not really certain about a lot of things, so I thought that now was as good a time as any to very hesitantly ask for any kind words you might want to share (and again, no worries if not! âșïž). anyway, sorry again for the short chapter, and hopefully the second part will come together soon! thank you so much for being here! âșïžđ
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
Arrangements were swiftly made to accommodate the changes that would ensue from Jamesâ acceptance of Admiral Wrightâs offer to stay behind with you rather than accompany him on the rest of tour. Gillette was the first officer in Jamesâ mind as his replacement, and the lieutenant was very happy to accept. Gillette was likely not far from a promotion to captain, and accompanying Admiral Wright would be an excellent chance for him to demonstrate his knowledge and skills of command. James would still be providing him with a very detailed itinerary and key points of information that needed to be conveyed at each stop on the journey, but Gillette had never failed him yet, and James was quite assured that the lieutenant would be up to the task.
The next thing to be done â and that which James was anticipating the most â was telling you the excellent news. When he and George returned home from the fort, James was able to steal you away for just a few moments of privacy before dinner. When he had finished explaining the situation, you insisted that he need not make such a sacrifice for your sake, even if James was quite certain he could see the desperate wanting that you were fighting with internally, your instinctive desire to have him stay battling against your unfailingly generous understanding of the requirements of his duties. But with his hands resting gently on your shoulders, the comforting warmth of you sinking through the fabric of your gown and into the lines of his palms, James promised you with every assurance in him that his role as a husband was of just as much import to him as his role as a commodore, and that, in this moment, he very much wanted to be not Commodore Norrington, but your James.
You had looked at him for a moment longer, the reality that he would not be leaving you beginning to swirl around you like a welcome tide, and then there were glittering halos forming around your soft, beautiful eyes as your lips broke into the radiant smile that could have pulled him home from even the most distant sea. And then he was not only seeing that lovely expression, but also having the exquisite privilege of tasting it as you kissed him. James knew he would be an utter fool to think that there was any champagne on earth that could match this sensation, the warm, golden bubbles of your delight fizzing on his lips and making him dizzy with happiness. It was a miracle he was ever able to make himself stop in time for dinner with the Wrights.Â
Even at dinner, James was not as focused as he typically tried to be, because he was completely entranced by the brilliant smiles you would send his way, your joy beaming out of you like sunlight even as more candles were lit to keep the darkening room illuminated. God, he hoped you could see that same joy radiating out of him as well, that you knew that him staying with you was not an obligation or a sacrifice, but was what he wanted most.Â
âCommodore,â George began, and the direct address brought James back to the conversation at hand, âI meant to inquire about this yesterday, but time got away from me, and it slipped my mind. I saw the exquisite picture of the Dauntless in your drawing room and was wondering who had done it. Someone from London I would presume?â
James glanced over at you instantly, and he was quite certain that even if you had somehow not been able to feel the happiness beaming out of him like sunlight before, then you surely could now sense the way he was filling up to the brim with pride.Â
âActually, Admiral, that painting is by the skilled hand of my wife,â James announced as all the warm, humming pride in him melted into his words and gilded them with awe.
âOh, indeed!â Georgeâs exclamation was one of delighted surprise as he turned to look at you. In his periphery, James saw you glance away modestly, your lips folding into a shy smile as you busied yourself with refolding your napkin in your lap.
âI daresay sheâs quite the accomplished artist, George,â Henrietta added. âI had the opportunity to watch her sketching in the garden today, and she has a precise, delicate touch when rendering her subjects which is quite compelling to watch.â
âYou are all far too kind,â you said quietly, your gaze still fixed upon your hands in your lap as everyone elseâs eyes fell in admiration upon you. âIt was a practice I began to help my father record his collections,â you explained, looking up then even if your expression remained a bit bashful in the wake of everyoneâs praise. âSo Iâm afraid that I can only draw from life, and I lack the inventiveness of many of Englandâs great artists when it comes to conceiving of scenes of my own invention.â
âWell, your rendering of the Dauntless is impeccable,â George told you jovially, and James nodded in sincere agreement. âItâs only a pity that you were never able to see the Interceptor,â the admiral continued, âas I can imagine how skillfully you might have rendered that beautiful ship.â
You glanced quickly around the table in polite confusion; James had never told you about the Interceptor. In fact, the memory of his previous flagship and the fate to which it succumbed necessitated James taking a bracing sip of wine as he readied himself to tread back into those memories which he would rather forget.
âWas she another vessel in His Majestyâs service?â you asked.
âIndeed,â George replied, âand the fastest ship in the Caribbean for a time.â
âShe was my flagship before the Dauntless,â James clarified quietly. Evidently all the steadiness he had tried his damnedest to force in his voice had been for naught; the Wrights did not appear to notice any change at all, but as soon as he finished speaking, your eyes were on him, a veil of concern falling over your face. God, he didnât want you to worry â not about this, about something that was now long-passed and which should, by all accounts, no longer trouble him. But there was that unearthly fog creeping in around the edges of his vision, tattered black sails that should not have been able to hold the wind, and skeletal hands melting out of flesh in the moonlight. No. No, no, no. He could not be doing this now.
âUnfortunately she was destroyed in some nasty business with pirates,â George continued, but James was hearing him as though from a slight distance as he fought desperately to wrestle his memories back into the heavy chest where he kept them locked away. âNot your husbandâs fault, of course â this was a terribly notorious crew who had been terrorizing the islands for years, and it was Commodore Norrington who finally put an end to their marauding. My understanding of the incident is that there was rather a fierce battle near a place called Isla de Meurta â awfully macabre name to give a place if you ask me â and with your husband at the helm, our brave men came out the victors in the end.â
âOur success was certainly due to the unwavering dedication and bravery of the navyâs officers and men â I was merely judged worthy to lead them in this endeavor.â He often wished that he had not been deemed worthy, that he had not seen the unspeakable horrors that he and his crew had faced. But the small, professionally polite smile he gave must have been convincing enough for the admiral, because George merrily raised his glass to the sentiment. James knew, however, that you would not be so easily convinced. Indeed, when he turned to glance at you, your lovely eyes were shadowed with worry, lines of tension appearing upon your features which James longed to ease away.Â
George appeared to be opening his mouth to say something else on the matter, but you expertly redirected the conversation to another topic before he could speak. Thank the lord for you! Even as you continued to converse politely with the Wrights, James did not miss the worried glances that you would occasionally cast over at him, and there was nothing he wanted more than to pull you into his arms, his lips pressed to your temple as he promised you that all was well, that he was merely momentarily afflicted by unhappy memories, but that there was no need for you to worry yourself over them.Â
Fortunately, when the pair of you retreated to the bedroom not terribly long after dinner, James was able to do just that. Your incredibly soft eyes were glowing with concern in the candlelight as he pulled you into his embrace on the bed and assured you that the events Admiral Wright had spoken of were now long in the past. Your lips parted for just a moment as though to inquire further, but then they closed and folded into a sleepy smile. Although he would never leave any question you asked of him unanswered, James knew that any response he might give would likely only worry you more, so he was more than happy to slide under the covers with you and let the cadence of your deepening breathing coax him to sleep.
my heart's a sea (james norrington x wife!reader) supplemental masterlist (chaps 101 and beyond)
now that we reached chapter 100, I need to do another supplemental masterlist for 'my heart's a sea,' so here it is! you can find chapters 1-50 (and all the info about the fic) right here as well as chapters 51-100 here!
hi!!!! i never send messages on here but i have to just say that i stumbled upon time after time and i can not tell you how many times i literally squealed out loud while reading it HAHA iâm not even a big star wars fan but i love domhnall gleeson and it was like THE perfect fic to read as i was scrolling on here!! i also have to just say that i kept listening to drop dead by olivia rodrigo while reading it and now i correlate that song to time after time because of how much i loved the writing on your fic SOOO much. like the scene where theyâre talking about how hux has never been on a date and the unspoken tension quite literally had me kicking my feet and reacting in ways that i have never had before while reading a fic. consider me absolutely sat for whatever fics you write next!!! đđđ
BUT OMG THANK YOU SO SO SOOOOOOO MUCH!!!!!!!! âșïžâșïž 'time after time' has such a special place in my heart as the very first longfic I ever wrote and also what showed me that I really could commit to planning and completing a larger story arc when I had only ever done shorter pieces before. it was definitely a learning experience, and there are things that I would probably do differently now, but without having written that story, I never would have known, so I truly owe that fic and that experience so much. I suppose this is my very, very long and rambling way of saying that I am so so soooooo thrilled to hear that you found that story and that you enjoyed it so much!!!!!! âșïžâșïž
and omggggggg yes "drop dead" really does give Hux in 'time after time' energy, especially the whole "kiss me and I might drop dead" part because that legit is how Armitage feels for much of the story đ
it is such a huge compliment that you enjoyed my writing so much, and reading this made me so incredibly happy, especially since it sometimes feels like older fics can get forgotten, so it really is making my heart so full to know that it is still finding wonderful and kind readers like you!!
genuinely, thank you so so so much for sending this message!! âșïžâșïž it was truly such a joy to receive this and to know that you loved the story! I hope you have an absolutely lovely day!! âșïžđ
CHARLOTTE! It feels like just yesterday I saw a photo of James and went âsmashâ then fell down the rabbit hole and landed on your fic! Your fluff abilities continue to amaze me and the perspective you use immerses me right in your story. I look forward to kicking my feet and twirling my hair as I read chapter 100!
- your biggest fan
JUDE!!!!!!! omg that is so kind of you to say!!!! âșïžâșïž I am so thrilled that the rabbit hole of the internet led you to my story!
I am sooooo happy to hear that you enjoy the fluff and also that the perspective is immersive!! i feel like when I've been working on something for a long time, I start to lose my ability to judge whether I think it's good or not, so it makes me so happy to hear that you're still enjoying my writing and the story! âșïžâșïž
I truly cannot believe that I posted chapter 100 today! đ€Ż this is far and away my longest writing project ever, and I'm so thrilled that it has led me to so many other fellow James fans so we can all be Unwell about him together! đ thank you so so so much for this super kind message and also for all of your amazing support on the fic! I truly hope you continue to enjoy!! âșïžđ
my heart's a sea â chapter one hundred (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist (through chapter fifty) (chapters fifty-one to one hundred)
summary: James and his wife have some moments alone and James receives an offer
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, suggestive moments, cuteness and fluff, reference to a bad relationship with a parent; let me know if I've missed anything!
words: 3115
authorâs note: can you believe that we've reached one hundred chapters on this fic????? I certainly cannot lmao đ đ€Ż. I think at one hundred chapters, I'm allowed to be a bit sentimental and to thank you all so so SO sincerely for being here and for all the love and enthusiasm you've shown this fic! I can very much promise that we would not be at a hundred chapters without all your incredible support, because knowing that you are reading and enjoying this story is absolutely what helps keep me going! I've become so invested in this fic, and I am truly so proud of being able to maintain it for this long, and I hope I'm able to continue to do so for a long time in the future as well!! âșïžâșïž
a little note more specific to this chapter: I think I mentioned in my last author's note that in this one we would be getting to a convo I had been planning for a while, but alas I wrote extra fluff and now that convo is moved to the next chapter lol đ . but there still is a moment in this one that I've had in my mind for a while, it just isn't the one I was talking about in my previous author's note đ
anyway, I truly hope you enjoy chapter one hundred of 'my heart's a sea,' and here's to how far we've come and to the next (one hundred???) chapters!! đđ„đ„°
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
this one has a suggestive moment, so I'm marking it 18+ â minors please do not interact
James woke with a jolt, confusion reigning in his mind as he fought to get his thoughts to clarify. It was clearly still the dead of the night given the darkness in the bedroom, so something had woken him suddenly, setting his heart to pounding in his chest, but he was not certain what it had been. His first fear was that you were having another nightmare, but as he propped himself up and rubbed a hand over his bleary eyes, letting them adjust to the darkened room, he realized that you were also just waking beside him and beginning to push yourself up to sit as well; evidently whatever had startled him had woken you as well.Â
âJames?â your voice was still thick with sleep. âDid you hearââ
Before you could complete the question, the sound came again, and while James had prepared himself for a hurried knocking at the door downstairs that would indicate he was needed at the fort, that was not what met his ears. Instead, it was something like a long, drawn-out, snorting inhale. Snoring. Down the hall, Admiral Wright was snoring.
You were facing the door, evidently also listening intently to this foreign sound, but you must have divined its source at nearly the same moment that James did, because just as he realized what he was hearing, you turned back to him, sleepy laughter already bubbling up on your lips.
âWell, it seems we can be sure that at least one of our guests is sleeping quite comfortably,â you joked in a whisper. âBut perhaps I should offer Mrs. Wright some cotton for her ears tomorrow.â
James was desperately holding back his laughter so as to not make too much noise, and you were doing the same, tears leaking from the corners of your eyes that were crinkled in laughter as you clasped a hand over your mouth to cover the sound even as he could see your shoulders shaking with it. It was uproariously funny in the way things can only be in the wee hours of morning when the mind has not yet tethered itself to reason and propriety, but is instead allowed to revel in a half-awake state and thus manages to find humor in even the most absurd of things.Â
As the two of you tried to suppress your laughter in the dark, quiet bedroom, the attempt only encouraging more of it to rise into Jamesâ throat as he watched you also fighting back the sound and barely succeeding, he felt rather like a child up past his bedtime, feverishly trying to hide the proof of it from any authority who might come investigating infractions. But it wasâŠÂ fun. He had been far too serious and fearful of his father and schoolmasters to do anything of the sort when he was a youth, but now, in the house he shared with you, he found himself enjoying the slight thrill of it, this tiny, perfect moment of secret humor shared only between the pair of you.
When the admiralâs snoring tapered off â either via a change in position or Henriettaâs intervention â you settled back into Jamesâ embrace, snuggling against him with a deep sigh of contentment that had him lighting up like a firework-filled sky. He folded you so happily into his arms, pressing an adoring kiss to the top of your head as both of you fell peacefully back to sleep.
James was not completely certain how he had gotten so bloody lucky as to be blessed with a wife who loved him enough to greet him with warm, sleepy kisses every morning, but whether it was fate or fortune or random chance, he hardly cared when your soft lips were on his, your fingers swirling through his hair as you gently half-propped yourself on his chest, kissing him deeply. Your hand which was not delightfully weaving through the tousled brown strands of his hair was resting against his chest, easily finding the triangle of bare skin that the open collar of his nightshirt revealed, the pads of your fingers drawing dizzying shapes there that were causing his breath to stutter and little roses of pink to bloom beneath your gentle touch.Â
He also could not find it in himself to care that he was practically gasping for air as he reached up to cradle the back of your neck, deepening the kiss further as he breathed in nothing but the life-giving force of you. You accommodated readily, shifting your position against him to allow your lips to sink even more deeply onto his own, and James barely suppressed a groan as he felt the beloved shape of you move against him, your body nestling so naturally against his that it was making him lightheaded.
He was well aware that if he wanted to maintain his restraint he would need to stop soon, but he was seriously struggling to find the will to do so when your kisses were his sunrise, brilliant and golden and glowing. Failing quite atrociously at stopping but succeeding exceptionally well at fully embracing the delights of the moment, James permitted his hand which was not cupping your head to trail over your lovely form, skimming over your shoulder, across your back, tracing the luxurious curves of you until it settled at the inviting plush of your waist just above your hip, and that was when he knew he had to stop. If he allowed himself to go any further, he would be drawing your hips even more closely to his own as his toes began to curl at the heavenly sensation, and that would hardly be fair to either of you.
With reluctance so deep that it almost drew an agonized sound from his mouth, James let his hands fall away from you, easing his lips from yours even though it was quite near to causing him physical pain to do so.Â
âI am so sorry,â he murmured breathlessly, your forehead resting against his as you both gasped for air. âBut if I do not cease nowâŠâ
âThen we will both fail to keep the vow of chastity we made for the duration of the Wrightsâ visit.â You easily filled in the end of his sentence, such delicious laughter swirling through your voice and glimmering in your bright eyes that James could not resist raising his head slightly to place one more tiny kiss upon your lips that had you laughing in earnest, easily pulling him into the welcoming tide of your laughter as the two of you both pushed yourselves up to sit.Â
James rubbed a hand over his face, brushing away a few wayward strands of hair that had fallen in front of his eyes. But it was only seconds before you relieved him of that task, your hands infinitely gentle against him as you carefully caught the wandering locks and tucked them back behind his ears. It stole his breath to meet your soft, lovely eyes and find you looking back at him the exact way he was gazing at you: as though he himself were the sunrise. He surely looked a mess â his hair in disarray, his nightshirt askew, his features still relaxed with sleep â and yet you were gazing upon him like you had never seen anything more beautiful. James inhaled a shaky breath.Â
âI was thinking about something Mrs. Wright said yesterday,â you murmured, catching one of his hands in both of yours and pulling it into your lap, pillowed by the skirt of your shift as your fingers traced the shapes of his fingers and trailed over the creases on his palm as though you were in awe of the very lines that formed him. Jamesâ heart was soaring skyward as the sails in his chest billowed to full canvas even if his breathing was still unsteady. âI never knew it was a title to which I could aspire, but I find that I could not be happier to earn the distinction of being the commodoreâs accomplished wife.â
Oh God. In the best possible way, James wasnât certain he would ever recover from this, not when you were looking at him like that and telling him that you couldnât be happier to be his wife. He swallowed thickly, raising his free hand until his thumb could brush over the curve of your cheek as he tenderly cradled your face. You leaned into his touch instantly, doing little to increase his stability but much to fill his personal sea with the most radiant sunlight until it sparkled off the blue water in a million brilliant stars that all pointed him home to you.
âAnd I could not be happier to have the honor of being your husband.â
His words were a trembling breath as he eased in to kiss you once more, and he was certain you could taste the truth of them in the way he kissed you with all the devotion and reverence in him, pulling you into his embrace until any distinction between commodore and commodoreâs wife hardly mattered, and the pair of you were just together.
James could admit that he very much mourned the loss of his breakfast alone with you in the sunny dining room. The Wrights were cheerful and pleasant â and no one mentioned the snoring incident â but how he longed for it to be just the two of you in the room, and he could tell by the sidelong glances you cast toward him that you were feeling precisely the same. It also pained him deeply to make his way to the fort without a goodbye kiss from you. James had instead needed to opt for a simple press of his lips to your knuckles, and while he certainly appreciated such a publicly-acceptable gesture of affection as a way for him to demonstrate his love for you even in the presence of others, he also longed for the divine press of your soft lips to his, a heavenly sensation to which he was now so blessedly accustomed.Â
Indeed, his day felt a bit unsettled without the treasured moments of closeness that typically graced his morning routine, but as he arrived at the fort with Admiral Wright at his side, he withstood the loss with as much forbearance as he could summon. James had only to recall that his day would be easy sailing compared to yours â he merely had to attend to his duties and interact with the admiral in an expected, professional manner while you had the unenviable task of entertaining Mrs. Wright all day. He barely swallowed a grimace at the thought. He wondered if there was anything he could acquire for you that would in some manner express the depth of his gratitude for what you were undertaking for his sake. You had bestowed upon him such a wonderful gift to mark the occasion of the admiralâs arrival, but surely it was he who should have been lavishing you with gifts in sincere thanks for everything you were doing for him. Yes, that was something he would most definitely consider further, but for the moment, as he invited George into his office, he was turning his mind to those matters he would need to discuss with the admiral as final preparations were made for the tour of other Caribbean ports.
âCommodore,â George began, and James thought he sensed just a twinge of apprehension in the admiralâs voice, although he could not imagine why.
âYes, sir?â
âI wonder if â before we embark upon the important matters before us today â I might speak to you on a more personal subject, not merely as fellow naval officers, but also as fellow husbands.â
James carefully tightened the muscles in his jaw so that it did not fall open in surprise. At least the title of âhusbandâ was wonderfully familiar to him now, and one that he wore with the utmost pride. But he could not help wondering why George was invoking that title rather than the more expected one of commodore, although he did his best to school his expression and not let his curiosity make itself known on his features.Â
âCertainly, sir.â
âI read the report pertaining to your wifeâs abduction.â
Ah, yes. James swallowed hard, ensuring that his face remained composed. When you were now so well and happy, it was not a subject he dwelt upon, but in those moments when it crept through â such as when it still tormented you in dreams â it set those flames to smoldering in him again, his hands itching for his sword and pistol. Those fiends were long gone now though, shackled in the putrid hull of a prison ship bound for London. James thought it fitting indeed that they should now be forced to suffer as you did, confined to the dark, dripping belowdecks as they sailed toward their self-inflicted fate.Â
âDo you think me too close to the situation to have properly completed the requisite report?â James asked, clasping his hands crisply behind his back in the hope that the long-practiced gesture would help him remain as steady as he wished to be on a subject that could very easily make him decidedly unsteady. âLieutenant Gillette and many of my other officers were also present â if you deemed it more appropriate, I could certainly have one of them formally authorize the report.â
âNo, no â that is not it at all,â George was assuring him hurriedly. âNo, I found the report to be entirely without flaw, and there is absolutely no reason for it to be redone. I ask for more⊠personal reasons.âÂ
The admiral sighed, his posture as impeccable as Jamesâ even as his gaze wandered out the windows to the port beyond, evidently as unaccustomed to such a mixing of his personal and professional worlds as James was.Â
âI ask because the plan we had set in place before this incident involved you accompanying me on the tour of our Caribbean naval ports â indeed, I took it very much for granted that these would be the circumstances under which we would operate, and no doubt you did as well.â
James ducked his head in agreement, indicating that he also had assumed such an arrangement. He was desperately tamping down the hope that was beginning to flicker to life within him, wondering if the admiral might be about to change those plans, to allow him stay with you as he so ardently wished to.
âLast night, I could not help but think that if Mrs. Wright had survived such a horrible ordeal, I likely would not be able to bring myself to leave her side for a year or longer once she was safe at home once more. And I understand that issues of rank may preclude you from making such a request on your own behalf, so I wished to convey to you that if you have another trusted officer whom you might send to accompany me, I would never begrudge you the opportunity to remain at your wifeâs side as she continues to recover from all that she has suffered.â
George had been looking intently out the window as he spoke, his gaze fixed on the ships anchored in the port below, but as he finished his statement, he turned to James, and there was a kind of softening in the crinkled skin around his eyes that spoke of genuine concern. If James had been asked to describe the expression, he would have said it was almostâŠÂ fatherly, even though he could not claim to have much experience receiving such expressions from his own father.Â
For what felt like a very long moment, James could not make words issue from his mouth. To be met one day with such genuine praise and then to receive this most generous offer the next⊠he almost couldnât account for such a thing; if he had been asked to write up a list of his wildest hopes for the admiralâs visit, he would have deemed these to be a bit lofty and far-fetched.
âYou must allow me to thank you with the utmost sincerity for this most gracious offer,â he began, selecting his words very carefully so that they emerged articulate and professional from his lips even as they wanted to rush forward in flurried rivers of gratitude.Â
Perhaps there might have been a time when he would have declined such an offer, and in the future, if circumstances were different, he still might decline it for the sake of setting aside his personal interests for a greater good. But now, in this moment, it was not merely his own personal interests at stake, but yours as well, and when he still remembered so clearly the way you clung to him in the dark bedroom as your sobs shook through your body and you told him that things felt less terrifying when he was near, James was certainly not going to decline.Â
âIn confidence, I will inform you that although she has demonstrated incredible courage and fortitude in the face of such trials, the incident does still trouble her,â James told him quietly, and George nodded solemnly as though he had guessed as much. âAnd so, if it would not be such an unforgivable disruption to the plans we had previously set, then I may accept your exceptionally generous offer and remain at my wifeâs side as she continues the long process of recovery.â
âI would never deem a manâs love for his wife to be unforgivable,â George said, just the edges of a very sincere smile tilting his lips upward, as though he was thinking of his own wife. âIndeed, such worthy sentiments can be nothing but admirable.â
He accented that last with a fleeting clasp of Jamesâ shoulder which he had not at all anticipated. Once more, in the wake of the unexpected but decidedly friendly gesture, James could sense something just a touch beyond the strictly professional that was beginning to bend toward the almost parental. James nodded in grateful acknowledgement even as he fought to keep his expression placid while he continued to readjust all his expectations about the admiralâs demeanor which had now been shattered entirely, but undoubtedly for the better.Â
As he and Admiral Wright then turned to official matters which were much more comfortable and well-trod territory for both men, James was nevertheless rejoicing internally. This time, he did not even imagine popping a bottle of champagne; no, he was thinking instead of getting to tell you the wonderful news and then being blessed to sip the golden, effervescent bubbles of your utter joy from your infinitely sweet lips.Â
my heart's a sea â chapter ninety-nine (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist (through chapter fifty) (starting with chapter fifty-one)
summary: James and his wife host the Wrights and get some time to themselves in the evening
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, a couple suggestive moments (nothing crazy tho), mention of drinking alcohol, cuteness and fluff; let me know if I've missed anything!
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
honestly this one is just a tiny bit suggestive in spots, but just to be safe, I'm marking it 18+ â minors please do not interact
James very happily offered you his arm, and you took it with just as much joy as the two of you invited the Wrights into the dining room for dinner. God, it was so wonderful to have your arm folded into his as he had dreamed of all day, the familiar warmth of your presence pressed gently against him and clearing away any residual worries that might have been clinging like stubborn cobwebs to the inner corners of his mind.
The four of you walked into the dining room that was neatly laid with the linens you had so beautifully embroidered, warm dishes of food already waiting on the table. You had chosen the menu very carefully alongside Mrs. Baird, opting to showcase the best of what could be achieved with local foodstuffs.
James eased you into your chair as George did the same for his wife on the other side of the table, your soft, sweet âthank you, Jamesâ never failing to have his heart skipping a beat, especially when you squeezed his hand gently as you released it and threw him a small but utterly radiant smile before you reigned in your expression once more. But James had seen it, and he felt very much as though the whole room was filled with sunlight despite the gathering darkness of evening outside.Â
Conversation with the Wrights was pleasant, if perhaps not nearly as engaging as that with the Paces. No doubt some of it had to do with differences of age; the Wrights were of his and your parentsâ generation, and their children were thus near to you and James in age. Henrietta spoke readily of their family, recounting the antics of their very young grandchildren as George chuckled along with her stories. They inquired about life in the Caribbean and how you especially had found the transition, since James had been there for far longer. With a tiny flash of a brilliant smile for him, you informed them with great joy that it was paradise here, and James had to take a strategic sip of wine to swallow back the warmth rising within him at the knowledge that you were not speaking merely about the fair weather and tropical climate, but also about being with him. Indeed, that thought was far headier than the wine in his glass.
The conversation did not range far from expected, polite topics, and while he could feel his energy steadily draining away as it typically did at these sorts of formal dinners, James would readily admit that he had never had such a relatively enjoyable time at such a meal as he did with you seated beside him as his wife. As always, he found himself utterly transfixed by you, the candlelight setting your jewelry to glimmering as your eyes sparkled with that undimmable light which was his guiding star. God, you were beyond lovely â perhaps radiant would be the best word for how you looked as you presided sweetly over the table at his side as the lady of the house. James certainly did not miss the occasional private glances that you saved only for him, the light of you beaming out all the more gloriously when you looked at him and smiled, evidently just as utterly delighted to be at his side as he was to be at yours.Â
When dinner had concluded, Henrietta reaffirmed her interest in having her husband hear you play the pianoforte if you would be willing to demonstrate your talents. You graciously agreed, and James must have rivaled the sun for brightness with how he was absolutely luminous with pride as he escorted you from the dining room to the drawing room. He even permitted himself to accompany you to the pianoforte, helping you onto the bench and basking in the glow of your smile and the tender brush of your hand against his as you thanked him.Â
James, Henrietta, and George all took seats as you prepared your sheet music, your hands hovering above the keys for just a moment before you began to play. As the music swirled around him, it was as though there was no one at all in the room but you and him. Jamesâ eyes were all for you, watching with utter adoration as your gaze flicked across the notes and your sure, gentle hands danced so expertly over the keys. And he was married to you. You were kind and intelligent and wonderful and beautiful and you were his wife. How the hell had he ever gotten so bloody lucky?
He took a sip of his after-dinner sherry, but it did absolutely nothing to quell the urge which was rising within him to stand and make his way to you, your gaze fluttering up to him with curious affection as he approached even as your hands never left the keys. James really would hate to interrupt your playing, but eventually his desire to have you near would be too great, and he would situate himself behind you such that he might press a deep, warm kiss to the soft bend of your neck. He could so clearly imagine the sparkling bubbles of your surprised laughter, how your fingers would falter for just a moment as you pretended to chastise him for the interruption even as you were already tilting your head so that he might continue. And James would do so with the utmost delight, eventually sinking down to sit beside you at the instrument so that he might better pull you into his arms.Â
James snapped himself back to moment in the next instant, quietly clearing his throat as he took another sip of sherry to calm the flush of warmth rising within him at the thoughts in which he had been indulging. As alluring as they had been, he would not dream of interrupting you, especially not when he had the privilege of watching you play, becoming happily absorbed in thoughts of how bloody much he adored you.
Henrietta requested a few songs after you had finished the first, and you generously obliged each time, although it was becoming dangerously difficult for James to contain his desire to hold you and lavish you with all the affection he possibly could. Typically, by this time of night, he had gotten to kiss you when he returned from the fort and then had often delighted in a few more kisses throughout the evening while he also was able to sit near to you on the settee and talk of anything that pleased both of you. The lovely, perfect closeness and intimacy of the evening had been necessarily curtailed by the presence of the Wrights, but he was certainly feeling its absence, desperately longing to be near to you in a such a way that propriety would no longer interfere with his expression of his love for you.
He certainly still relished the opportunity to watch you play â just as he did every time it was granted to him â but the whole experience felt different, far more intimate, when it was just you and he in the cozy drawing room. You would often intentionally conclude with the piece that reminded both of you of rocking gently on the ocean at night under a blanket of stars. James would always applaud quietly when you had finished, and you would stand and duck into a little curtsy in return, and then it would be mere fractions of a second before he had crossed the small distance to you and was kissing you. But he could not do that now.
When you finished the last song and stood from the instrument, he applauded enthusiastically along with the Wrights, and your lips pressed into a small, shy smile as you curtsied in thanks. When you raised your eyes again though, they were all for James, and he could see in them all the same longing for nearness that was setting him to aching. Seeing his own wanting mirrored in the warm depths of your lovely eyes ensured that it was near to a miracle that he did not fold you into his arms in that very moment.
To his relief though, Henrietta then announced her intention to retire for the night, citing her desire to finally sleep in a bed that would not rock with the waves, and that comment earned congenial laughter from everyone. With your eyes brimming with affection and falling like sunbeams upon James before you turned your attention to the Wrights, you echoed Henriettaâs intention, saying that you would also retire presently. But before James could take the glorious opportunity to say he would be joining you, George spoke first.
âCommodore,â he began, turning his attention to James who was now hurriedly flipping all his thoughts back over to his duties and the obligations of his role as the portâs commander, âif I might steal just a moment of your time, I was wondering if there might be somewhere I could begin to progress through the reports with which youâve provided me.â
âMost certainly, Admiral,â James replied, endeavoring â for the moment at least â to ignore the way he was desperately aching to be alone with you. âIt would be my pleasure to conduct you to the study.â
With a round of polite farewells, you followed Henrietta in retreating upstairs, casting one last longing-laden glance at James that had his heart near to stumbling from his chest in his desire to accompany you. But if he could finish this professional business first, then he would be free to finally pull you into his embrace and match his breathing to the comforting rhythm of yours, utterly at ease in the warm familiarity of your presence.
He showed the admiral up to the study and invited that he might make himself comfortable there for the duration of his stay. George arranged the reports upon the desk and thanked James generously not only for the use of the study, but also for the hospitality. It took James perhaps just half a beat longer than it should have to respond â he was not accustomed to being thanked by superior officers, especially not with such sincerity. He recovered enough to answer, assuring George that he and his wife were very welcome indeed, and that they only need ask if they required anything at all.Â
And then, his mind still somewhat filled with a mist of pleased confusion at being thanked so genuinely by someone who outranked him, James was finally able to make his way to you. It took quite a bit of self-restraint to not dash from the study down the corridor to the bedroom, but he did manage to keep his footsteps steady, even if they were brisker than normal.
He was nearly ready to collapse in exhaustion and relief when he reached the door and pushed it open. God, in walking into the bedroom he shared with you, he felt like a marooned sailor finally stepping onto the ship that had come to his rescue. The room was quiet and softly lit with candlelight, a light breeze scented with the gardenâs night-blooming flowers fluttering the edges of the drapes. And best of all was you, curled up against the headboard in your shift and dressing gown, looking for all the world like an angel seated amongst the clouds of heaven. You had been utterly correct at dinner: this absolutely was paradise.
You noticed his entrance immediately, and you were already kicking off the covers and leaping from the bed as he closed the door. Then you were in his arms. Good lord, âparadiseâ didnât even begin to describe this feeling.Â
James pulled you into his embrace, feeling you come to rest so comfortably against him as you settled your head upon his shoulder, your arms also wrapping around him and holding him close. He exhaled a long, shaky breath, his eyes fluttering closed as he basked in the sensation of you being the only thing in all his senses. The familiar warmth of you was soaking through the fabric of his uniform, and where this morning he had felt your stiffened bodice and stays pressed to him, now he had the blessed privilege of feeling the soft, natural shape of your body melt so naturally against him. James let out another trembling breath as his hands traced lightly across your back, trailing his fingers over the beloved contours of your form beneath the light fabric of your nightclothes. He could have stayed just like this all night and wouldnât have minded a bit, except that he no doubt would have eventually collapsed from exhaustion. Admittedly though, if he was going to be doing any collapsing, then your arms certainly were a wondrous place to do so.
You pulled away slightly after a long moment, creating just enough space so that you might look at him without fully breaking contact, and when he opened his eyes and met yours, he nearly stumbled to find them filled with galaxies of tenderness.
âYou must tell me everything,â you entreated with such genuine enthusiasm bounding through your voice and sparkling in your eyes that Jamesâ heart was performing all the incredible aerial acrobatics of a seabird soaring above the waves. âHow did he find the fort and what all did he say? Did he remark on how lovely the Dauntless is â surely he should have â and did he notice that youâve made this the most well-run port in the whole empire?â
I love you, I love you, I love you. That was all James could think. Before you married him, you had likely known next to nothing about his maritime world of ships and ports and ranks and sailing, but you had learned it all â you were sosincerely excited about it â because of him, because you loved him. He swallowed thickly, his eyes tightening.Â
The truest response he could offer was kissing you the way he had dreamed of doing all day, your lips so exquisitely soft and warm beneath his own that it was affecting him far more deeply than the restrained glasses of wine and sherry he had sipped on at dinner. You sank into the kiss instantly, a sigh of utter contentment melting from your mouth into his as he pulled you closer still, his hands nearly fists on the light fabric of your nightclothes with how desperately he longed for nothing but this, nothing but you.
âHeavens, I missed that this evening,â you murmured against his lips when the pair of you needed to part just enough to inhale a few breaths.
âLord, I missed it too,â James breathed back, pressing his forehead gently to yours as he recovered himself, your soft hum of happiness growing a garden of glorious flowers around his heart. Then he raised one hand to cradle your face, leaning his head back just enough that he might look more fully into your beautiful eyes, his thumb brushing reverent caresses over the curve of your cheek. âAnd I will happily tell you everything you might wish to know,â he whispered, âon the condition that I am also permitted to make inquiries about your day.âÂ
âI believe I can accept that condition, Commodore.â Your answering smile was shimmering with laughter and beaming with playfulness such that James could think of nothing he wanted to do more than kiss you again. And here, in the private haven of the bedroom, he could. So he did. Your soft laughter was effervescent bubbles on his lips, and he could feel you leaning into the kiss just as eagerly as he was, your hands instinctively reaching to weave through his hair which was still frustratingly concealed under his wig.
That was the moment when he decided that he must forgo the momentary pleasure of kissing you now so that he might more fully indulge in even deeper kisses later, when he was no longer dressed for duty. James eased away from you slowly and with much reluctance, and although he did need to cease kissing you for the moment, he was also then granted the view of you standing in the warm, golden candlelight, with hair uncoiffed and nightclothes falling in soft, loose drapes around you, your lovely features pulling into a smile like starlight that was all for him. Paradise indeed.
Evidently, you had divined that his reason for parting from the kiss was to proceed with his preparations for bed, because you immediately offered to help. James hesitated for a moment, not wanting to trouble you, but then he remembered you trimming his hair, him helping you with your collections, and he recalled what you had told him: âwhat might be merely another task on oneâs own becomes so much more when shared with someone you love.â And you were standing before him with an expression so filled with light it was making the stars a bit ashamed for being so dim in comparison, offering to help, asking him about the admiralâs visit. Because you loved him. And good God, did he love you.
So James accepted your generous offer, and you helped him neatly fold his things and tuck them carefully away in the wardrobe as he related to you the events of his day. He recounted the admiralâs pleased surprise that the port was so well-run, told you of his positive reflections on the fortâs men and weapons, reported on everything he could recall that might be of interest to you. Even then you had further questions, each asked with such sparkling excitement that James was beginning to fear for his continued ability to stand as normal when it felt like every inch of him was veritably humming with marvelous warmth.
âJames, I just knew you would be splendid!â you exclaimed once his preparations were complete and the two of you both finally collapsed onto the bed. You clasped his hands in both of yours, and there was no sea in the world that James would rather have sailed upon than the oceans of adoration in your eyes. âYou deserve every word of praise Admiral Wright has bestowed upon you and a thousand others besides,â you told him, one hand lifting so that your fingers might trace reverently over his cheek. James was quite near to tears. âI am so proud of you.âÂ
That was what finally broke the seawall of his tears, permitting a few stray droplets of saltwater to begin streaking down his cheeks.Â
âOh!â The little exclamation was quiet from your lips when you noticed the thin tracks of tears beginning to wander down his face, but not filled with distain or chastisement or derision or any of the other things he had been conditioned to believe would always accompany his tears, but which you had never once expressed. Instead, the sound was soft and infinitely understanding, threaded through with such sincere care. For just a moment, you cast around for a handkerchief, but finding none in the immediate vicinity, you instead raised the long, billowing fabric of your dressing gown to his cheeks, ever so tenderly mopping up his tears even if that gentle action was only threatening to have him crying even more in earnest.
âThank you,â he murmured, his voice still sticky as he recovered himself. God, there was little he wanted more than for you to be proud of him, to be proud of the man you had married, whom you so happily called your husband, your James. And possibly what was making him feel all the more fragile in the most beautiful way was that he knew that if the admiral had a hundred horrible things to say about his work, you would still be proud of him, and no doubt he would need to gently restrain you from marching directly down the corridor to the study to give Admiral Wright a proper dressing down. The thought pulled a little chuckle from his lips. Lord in heaven, he loved you so bloody much he wanted to yell it from the top of the fort.
âDo I dare to ask what has inspired your laughter?â you asked, curious good humor dancing in your eyes. James could hardly think of anything more lovely than being granted the chance to laugh with you.
âI confess I was imagining an alternate scenario,â he told you, âwhere the admiral was not so complimentary, and when I relayed that fact to you, you had a few select words to say to him on the matter.â
âA few?!â You pressed a hand to your chest in horror as you gasped in exaggerated disbelief that easily pulled more laughter from his mouth. âQuite on the contrary, I would have many select words to say to him, indeed, libraries full, and I fear I would shock even myself with just how select some of my words might become.â
âOh indeed?â James inquired teasingly, and your laughter filled the room at his question. Heavens, being with you like this was so wonderfully, easily light, so utterly perfect. âHas the time youâve spent down by the docks sketching the Dauntless inspired you with some of the more colorful language that the dockhands are unfortunately wont to use?â You nodded with mock-solemnity.
âYes, Iâm terribly afraid that I might even be so bold as to call him aâŠâ You glanced around dramatically as if ensuring there was no one else but him to hear, and then uttered the phrase in just a whisper: âA bloody idiot.â
Before you, James had never known that laughter like this could exist, the kind he felt with his whole body until every inch of him was happily bubbling with it. Hearing you whisper âa bloody idiotâ conspiratorially to him as though it was the worst possible thing you could ever say was so endearingly amusing that it had him gasping for air. It was such a mild statement compared to many of the obscenities James had heard in his life, but he had so rarely heard an ill word from your sweet lips that it did seem a very grave insult indeed when you said it.Â
You joined him in his laughter, filling the room with the musical sound of your delight, one hand fluttering to cover your mouth as though you had uttered some unpardonably grievous insult and now must hide the evidence of it even as more peals of laughter spilled in curling ribbons of gold from your lips. God, you were so easily the most wonderful person James had ever met.Â
âWell, I shanât repeat such a thing again unless it is truly warranted,â you told him as both of you recovered yourselves, âbut I can assure you that if anyone fails to see how remarkable you are, then such a phrase is very warranted, and I shall not hesitate to use it.â
James both hoped that such a time might come to pass and that it might not, and the same reasoning motivated both desires. He was not entirely certain that he would be able to maintain his consciousness â much less his composure â if someone were to find him wanting and you were to step up to his side and inform them that they were a bloody idiot. No, he would certainly keel over at the knowledge that you would defend him like that, that even to a superior officer, you had no compunctions about upbraiding them if you felt he was being wronged. Lord, they couldnât make a liquor strong enough to deliver the heady draught he would receive if such a situation were ever to arise.
âAnd I swear upon my honor that I will gladly do the same for you should our positions be reversed.â James felt that, by this point, he had plenty of accumulated honor upon which he might swear, and he would so happily swear all of it to you. âSpeaking of: will I need to be using such unsavory language to describe Mrs. Wright after your day with her?â
âAh, yes, I suppose I did agree to that condition, didnât I?â You reached for his hand as you spoke, the words threaded through with joking lightness as you danced your fingers across his palm, leaving comet trails of light and warmth behind on his skin. James was sinking into the adoring affection he could see glowing in your eyes, letting himself float with delight upon this ocean of love as he gazed up at the constellations of tenderness with which you had decked his every sky.
âI truly would like to hear about your day,â he pressed gently, his words quiet as the way you were drawing swirling shapes on the skin of his palm was causing his breath to stumble.
He was very curious as to how your day had gone, since he knew little of what you had done except for your small, silent assurance in the foyer that things had not gone terribly. James far and away would rather have been escorting the admiral around the fort â even if the man was silent and severe the whole time â than hosting someone at home all day and feeling required to entertain them. If he was tired, he could only imagine that you were utterly exhausted. He was never going to be able to thank you thoroughly enough for this, for sacrificing your time and energy to host Mrs. Wright during the day when James struggled to imagine a more harrowing experience.Â
âWell, I daresay that it was nowhere near as worthy of being reported upon as your day,â you told him with a soft laugh, âbut I can certainly relate the more significant parts.â
To James, every part of your day was significant â and not just this day, but every day. He always wanted to know which flowers most caught your eye in the garden, which embroidery piece you worked on, which songs on the pianoforte were causing you trouble and which you were pleased with. There was never a day when he didnât want to hear what shells you had discovered at the beach, if you had gotten Jetty and Cay or some of their more skittish avian companions to pose for your sketches, what other strange and extraordinary creatures you had met at the tide pools. And although you had seemed a bit hesitant at first, as though uncertain why he would find such things of interest, it was now a beloved routine for you to relate such things to him at dinner while he also told you of his day, even if he was originally held back by that same feeling of hesitation. Why would you care at all about personnel changes or ship repairs or weapons inventories? But the more James sat across from you at the dinner table, your eyes alight with such sincere excitement and curiosity as you asked him to elaborate further, he slowly realized that his day was to you as yours was to him: of the greatest interest and significance.
âI do admit that I was exceedingly nervous,â you admitted. âAnd I was near to making myself quite ill with it as I watched the carriage pull up.â Jamesâ stomach twisted; even if he had suspected that you might be feeling exceptionally anxious, it still pained him to hear it. âBut thankfully, she showed herself to be kind and generous immediately. She complimented my dressâ â a very well-deserved compliment, James thought to himself, recalling how radiant you looked â âand as I showed her inside, she noticed the shells and commented on them with some enthusiasm.â Oh, thank God! âEvidently, her little granddaughter is quite charmed by shells, and she takes her on trips to the seaside to go beachcombing. Although I did not reveal the extent of my scientific interest in conchology, I did inform her that I had collected these myself from the beaches here, and that I would happily provide her with some to take back to England if she so wished, and she appeared very excited to accept such an offer. I showed her around as their things were being brought in, and when she saw the pianoforte, she inquired as to whether I play. When I answered in the affirmative, she asked if she might hear, so I played some of the songs in which I have the most confidence. She is rather a talkative woman â as you no doubt saw at dinner â so that relieved me of having to provide too much in the way of conversation myself. But she is kind and agreeable, and I hope I was as good of a hostess to her as I wished to be.â
âI am quite certain that she has never met a kinder, more generous, or more charming hostess in her entire life,â James told you softly, gently taking your hand in his and lifting it to his lips to press a reverent kiss to your knuckles. You had fluttered your eyes away at the compliment, but raised them to meet his once more when his lips met your skin, your smile shy from receiving his words of praise, but sparkling with starlight.
âWell, I fear I was also rather a fatigued, wilting hostess,â you joked with a sweet breath of laughter, easily coaxing a quiet chuckle from James as well. âI dare to believe that I succeeded in concealing it, but by the late afternoon, I did very much wish to retreat to the bedroom for a bit of a rest.âÂ
âI do hope that you take your rest when you need it,â he murmured, hating to think of you beginning to tire and wilt in the warm drawing room as you spoke with Henrietta and drew a perfect smile on your lips even when you wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed. Being required to be cheerful and engage in idle chatter all day would have driven him to madness, and it was clear that your feelings on the matter were not far from his own.
âYou donât,â you returned, your words mostly light with fond teasing, but with just a ring of something more serious beneath that spoke of your genuine concern for him. God, James would never be over the wonder of knowing just how deeply you cared for him; it set blossoms of glorious warmth blooming through him each time until he was a garden of tenderness.
âIâm learning to.â His response was just a breath, his thumb gently caressing your hand. Perhaps it was less that he was learning to, and more that you were teaching him to. You invited him to rest, gave him space to rest, and had made a perfect paradise in which he finally felt completely at ease for the first time in his life. Your eyes were twin galaxies filled with warm, luminous stars as he looked back at you.
âWell, then perhaps for your next lesson,â you began, your words so softly playful that James was not going to survive much longer without kissing you, âyou might go to bed early with your rather exhausted wife?â
âIn fact, there is nothing I would like better.â
James did lean in to kiss you then, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he cradled your face, your lips softer and sweeter than anything he would ever taste. The kiss was warm and slow and delightfully languid, giving him ample time to appreciate everything he loved about kissing you: the plush warmth of your lips against his, the gentle curve of your cheek beneath his palm, your hands beginning to slide luxuriously into his hair, the soft sighs that melted from your mouth into his and made him feel more pleasantly dizzy than any liquor on earth ever could.
Normally, such wondrous considerations would have him pulling away just enough that he could speak, his forehead still pressed to yours as he inhaled little gasps of air, his cheeks growing rosebuds as he falteringly asked if you might wish to go further. But the pair of you had decided that suchâŠÂ activities should be curtailed whilst the Wrights were staying and sleeping just down the corridor. And even if that had not been the case, James knew you were tired, and while he would gladly ignore his own exhaustion â as you had so sweetly and correctly pointed out â he would never overlook yours.
Instead, he was quite happy indeed to slide his hand slowly backwards until he was cupping the back of your head so that he might gently ease you back against the pillows. As you intuited what he was doing, he was blessed to taste the champagne bubbles of your sleepy laughter against his lips which then melted into a soft delighted hum, all without ever breaking the kiss. Lord in heaven, there were very few better ways to end the day than this: falling peacefully asleep beside his beloved wife.
my heart's a sea â chapter ninety-eight (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist (through chapter fifty) (starting with chapter fifty-one)
summary: James and his wife complete their preparations and the Wrights arrive
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, a couple suggestive moments, much fluff âșïž (esp. at the beginning), anxiety, memories of an abusive parent, metaphorical mention of drinking champagne; let me know if I've missed anything!
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
honestly this one is just a tiny bit suggestive in spots, but just to be safe, I'm marking it 18+ â minors please do not interact
The morning was busier than usual as the finishing touches were put on everything. Mrs. Baird was making up the guest bedroom with fresh bedclothes, and you were aiding Anna in laying out the linens you had given him as a wedding gift while James made certain that your painting of the Dauntless was hung proudly over the pianoforte.Â
Just as he was completing this task and stepping back toward the center of the room to assess his work â he could not claim to be a skilled tradesman, but he did feel as though he had gotten the frame quite level â you stepped through the door. Lord, you looked so beautiful. You had chosen your gown specifically for the occasion: it was decked with cheery florals and edged with delicate lace trim. You had told him it was one of your few visiting dresses, and thus it was slightly nicer than the gowns that comprised your standard daywear. James understood what you meant by ânicerâ in the sense that it was a bit more intricate in construction and had a few more elegant trimmings, but he would be the very first to say that he thought every single garment you owned was quite nice indeed, and that he loved your simpler, lightweight gowns accented with silken ribbons and layers of soft, diaphanous fabric equally to those you wore for more formal occasions. He may have needed to concede, however, that he did hold your Dauntless Day dress slightly higher than all the others though, but he rather thought that you might as well.Â
His dress uniform coat was draped neatly over one of your arms â James had thought it far more prudent to put up the painting without the extra weight of it, so you had clearly collected it for him. It did not escape his notice that your fingers were rubbing unconsciously over the gleaming golden brocade; you were nervous.
âDo I look like a proper society hostess?â you asked, weaving shimmering threads of light teasing into your voice even through your evident anxiety.
âYou are utterly beyond reproach, Mrs. Norrington.âÂ
A sunny, genuine smile broke over your face at his very intentional use of your married name, the title melting like warm honey on his own tongue. He stepped forward then, just barely skimming his fingers over the faintly shimmering silver chain resting around your neck, the one that held your locket in which you had enclosed his portrait. He then let his fingers lift upward, dancing over the curve of your cheek as your lovely eyes met his. James was beginning to feel just a bit lightheaded when he heard your little intake of breath in response to his tender caress.Â
âI admit,â you began in a whisper, breathless even after his fingers reluctantly retreated, âthat I have no comparison for what a commodoreâs wife is meant to look like, so I hope Iâm suitable for the part.â
âI have met a few commodoresâ wives in my career,â he responded, stepping even closer until he could cradle your cheek, seeing both nerves and adoration gazing back at him from your warm, lovely eyes, âand I can assure you that you are very suitable for the part. Indeed, you are the only person whom I could ever truly envision in the role.â
James barely had a moment to congratulate himself on being able to so clearly articulate the truth of his feelings before you were kissing him. But then again, your sweet kiss was all the congratulations he could ever need. He leaned softly into the kiss, drawing you closer carefully â he had to temper his desire to fold you entirely into his arms and kiss you until he had no need for air with the knowledge that you had put your ensemble together with great care, and he would hate to ruin any piece of it.Â
When he pulled away gently, you were just fluttering your eyes open again, and now it was James who was quite breathless not only from the kiss, but also from the divine knowledge that you found his kisses so enjoyable that you savored them thus. As he took a half-step backwards â knowing that if he did not, he might be pulling you completely into his embrace in the next instant â he noticed his coat still draped over your arm. No doubt the length of thick fabric was growing heavy.
âAllow me to relieve you of your burden, Mrs. Norrington.â James spoke the words with exaggerated gallantry and a sweeping bow that blessedly set you to laughing, filling the room with music. As he reached to take the garment from you though, you hesitated.
âActually, may I?â you asked with a sweet smile, adjusting the fabric in your hands until the coat hung such that James could slip into it. It took James a beat to recalibrate. The answer was, of course, a definitive âcertainly,â which he was finally able utter with a smile that he hoped conveyed the way his hands were beginning to feel a bit shaky with joy. Lord above, this was his life! His wife whom he absolutely adored was asking if she might help him don his uniform, a moment of such familiar, domestic closeness which spoke of such easy intimacy and sincere affection that it was filling his mind with radiant stars.
James imagined that you might actually see him glowing or feel the hum of happiness reverberating in his body as he turned so that you might aid him in sliding his arms into the sleeves. He felt you guiding the thick fabric gently over his arms until it settled at his shoulders. Then you smoothed your hands over them, ensuring there were no unsightly creases. He clenched his jaw at the thoughts that were bubbling up in his mind, the ones that were wishing that there was no fabric between your palms and his skin, that your hands might meet his bare shoulders as they did when you eagerly pulled him closer. James almost needed to shake his head minutely to clear those thoughts â for the moment at least.
When he turned to face you once more, your hands alighted once more upon his uniform, also smoothing over the embellished lapels of his coat as they trailed over his chest, your gaze attentive to the fabric, ensuring that each button and stitch was perfect, just as you knew he liked it. Jamesâ mind, however, was lost in the consideration of how that fabric now lay over his very chest and stomach which had known the heavenly touch of your exquisitely soft lips and adoring hands the night before, how you had touched him with such love that it had melted into him like liquid starlight, leaving him luminous as the heavens. The admiral would never know, and neither would any of his men â they would see only the perfect uniform, the irreproachable posture, the professional and authoritative commodore. But he would know. James would forever know the divine experience of having been so deeply loved, of you having traced the very proof of your love for him onto his body, that there would not be a day when he wouldnât feel the glowing constellations of that adoration on his skin and know that every single star was always pointing him home to you.
âI admit that I selfishly left your tricorn in the foyer,â you confessed softly as you stepped back to take him in. James could feel your every reverent caress once more in the way your gaze trailed gently over him. âFor it is challenging my fortitude enough to see you thus, and were you to don your hat, surely I would become a very weak woman indeed and I might make you terribly late for greeting Admiral Wright.â
James swept you into his arms with utter abandon then, the knowledge that you found him so handsome in his dress uniform that it was challenging your forbearance rising in him like a warm, welcome tide decked with glittering sunlight and filled with beautiful shells that were making delicate, melodious music as they swirled happily in the waves.Â
He kissed the champagne bubbles of laughter from your lips with complete delight, and he was quite certain that you could feel the way that he was smiling into the kiss as well, a sensation he could never have believed would even be possible before he met you. Then your arms were lacing around his neck, pulling yourself nearer as James very joyously accommodated that closeness. He could feel your skirts spilling around his legs, could sense the shape of your bodice and stays pressed to his chest, and for the second time in only a few moments, he desperately wished that there was no cruel barrier of fabric between the two of you.
âYou must not tempt me so,â you scolded teasingly when you broke away to gasp for air, your forehead still pressed to Jamesâ as you gently grasped the lapels of his coat to steady yourself. That very sensation â your hands tugging lightly at his uniform coat to hold yourself upright because his kisses had left you slightly weak in the knees â had James himself feeling a bit unsteady, his cheeks flushing with warmth. He was absolutely determined not falter though, since he very, very much wished to be the steadiness you could cling to when you found yourself feeling shaken. So he planted his feet on the floorboards, his hands lifting to rest lightly on your shoulders as you steadied yourself.
âI apologize, Mrs. Norrington,â he murmured back, even if you and he both knew that he was hardly sorry. He had never conceived of himself as someone capable of tempting anyone, especially not with his kisses, so it was making him a bit delirious to know that you found kissing him to be a tempting prospect.
âHmmmâŠâ you hummed softly, your smile audible even in the quiet noise, âapology accepted, Commodore.â
You stepped back then, and James reluctantly lifted his hands from your shoulders. Even so, he did steal a few more tender touches as he adjusted the folds and trimmings of your gown in the places where his sudden eager embrace had crushed them slightly. You readily returned the gesture, smoothing your hands once more over his lapels and sending his heart soaring like a seabird to the skies.Â
On the way to the door, James collected his tricorn, but did not place it upon his head until he could be certain of not tempting you, even if the rasher part of him sorely wished to. In the foyer, the pair of you shared soft words of reassurance and he squeezed your hands gently in his, pressing one more adoring kiss to your cheek before he departed to greet the admiral.Â
In his office at the fort, some of Jamesâ nerves from the previous day returned. He peered out the window at Admiral Wrightâs ship coming into port and being greeted by a few other Port Royal officials, as had been arranged. James couldnât decide whether it was better or worse that he had not been part of the greeting party â better because it allowed him to get things completely in order at the fort, but worse because it meant he was made to wait. He permitted himself only one solitary lap about his office, his hands caged tightly behind him as though he were at attention on the quarterdeck. When his single allowable turn about the room was completed, he sank into his chair with a small huff, checking on his pristine stacks of files for the umpteenth time to ensure that all was in order.Â
He understood it would be quite irregular indeed to have his wife at the fort, but he desperately wished that you were there with him. James knew that he would not feel nearly so jittery if your arm was folded happily into his, the comforting warmth of you pressed gently against him. But that thought only led him into considerations of the nervousness that you must be experiencing at the same moment, likely also clasping your hands together to keep them still and making anxious laps of the house as you glanced out the front windows, waiting for the carriage that would carry Mrs. Wright to the house. Lord, that wasnât doing anything to ease his own worries, and in fact was only adding a slight twinge of nausea to his stomach as he envisioned the nervous lines that would trace your features as you waited.Â
But then there was a knock on his door, and James snapped to attention immediately. It was Gillette informing him that the admiral was on his way to the fort. James ducked his head in acknowledgement and departed his office with the lieutenant at his side, confident at least in the fact that his nerves would not show through his crisp, authoritative gait that he had spent years perfecting such that even precariously-tilting decks no longer disrupted his purposeful steps.Â
As he waited just outside the fortâs gates, his men flanking him in pristine uniforms and at perfect attention, James attempted to force himself to inhale deep, steadying breaths. Rather than descending into the cold, shark-filled whirlpool of his own fears, he made himself instead repeat that there was nothing to fear, that he had worked for years to build and maintain everything he would show to the admiral, and that even if he was found wanting at every possible level, you did not find him wanting. That reassurance did help to ease his mind, and he tried to envision you beside him, picturing your sunny smile that could calm even his most tempestuous of seas.Â
When Admiral Wright did appear, suddenly all of the superfluous anxious energy that had been buzzing through him snapped over into performing the actions required of him with all possible finesse. There was still a strange, very quiet part of his mind that was somewhat surprised to find that the admiral was not wearing his fatherâs face. Of course he wasnât â James knew that was a ridiculous idea â but evidently the area of his thoughts that still so viscerally remembered the sickening thud of his fatherâs cane on the floor and Jamesâ desperate hope that his marks had been good enough to please his ever-demanding father remained open to the terrifying possibility that Admiral Lawrence Norrington would walk up to the fort with disapproving eyes and just the faintest trace of a scowl marring his professional façade.
But, of course, that was not who James found. The man who approached him was Admiral George Wright, a celebrated naval officer who had commended Jamesâ work and had evidently been given complimentary reports about his leadership in the Caribbean all the way back in London. Indeed, as formal salutes and introductions were made, James could detect no trace of malice on Wrightâs face. Instead, he seemed to be very thoughtfully surveying the fort and taking in the view of the port that it offered with perhaps even an expression of pleased surprise, as though he had not quite expected to find everything operating so smoothly and with such relatively advanced naval architecture, given the great distance from England. Or maybe thatâs what James wished to think.
But no, James had not been mistaken in this surmise, because it was confirmed to him by the admiral himself once the formal introductions were completed and James had offered to take Wright to his office so that they might discuss things further. James was exceptionally conscious of his body as he strode briskly beside Wright through the fortified hallways, trying to ensure that his steps were even and that his posture never faltered. It never did whilst he was on duty â he had spent far too long training himself into perfect professional comportment for it to fail him now â but he was more aware of it than usual as he walked beside the admiral, permitting his mind to think only as far ahead as the next action, the next interaction.
âI admit, Commodore,â Wright began when the number of other personnel in the hallways had thinned a bit, âthat although I have received very positive reports on your excellent work here, I still imagined it might have just the lingering flavor of an unruly backwater, but I am exceptionally happy to be proved wrong. I would dare to say that the port here is run with more precision than some of the ports in England itself.â
âI sincerely thank you for that, sir.â Jamesâ voice was as level as propriety demanded of him and carefully weighted with all the genuine gratitude he felt, even if inside he was quite ready to begin popping champagne bottles. God, how he wished that the Wrights wouldnât be staying at the house, because James could have raced home to you, swept you into his arms as you filled the room with musical laughter and told you that he had not been found wanting, and that the admiral had praised his work. No doubt you would beam back at him with his favorite smile and tell him with that irresistible ribbon of lightness curling through your voice that you could have told him that, and that you could not imagine any facet of him that might be found wanting. And then he would kiss you until he knew nothing at all but he sweet press of your lips to his, and he would forget the champagne entirely, because it was nothing compared to sipping your effervescent delight from your lips all night.
Indeed, as his day with Wright progressed, Jamesâ desire to do just that was only increasing. The admiral collected the prepared reports and commended him on his preparedness and attention to detail, indicating that he would read them at length later. James then conducted him on a tour of the fort, and Wright had not a negative word to say the entire time; he lauded the menâs apparent dedication to their duties, remarked almost excitedly on the pristine condition of all the fortâs weapons, even openly expressed his awe at the view when James took him out upon the walls that looked down on the shining blue waters of the port. James found the admiral to be professional and knowledgeable, but affable, even inclined to the occasional restrained chuckle. The visit was going well â exceptionally well â and there was no one he wanted to share that wonderful news with more than you.Â
He very ardently hoped that things were progressing just as well for you and Mrs. Wright, and he wished it enough to even send up a little prayer to that effect, although he wasnât certain how much weight his prayers carried in heaven given that he wasnât a particularly regular practitioner of them. Nevertheless, he sent that hope skywards along with the adoring kiss and a warm embrace which he very much wanted to bestow upon you at the earliest possible moment.
By the time James was accompanying Wright back to the house, he felt rather like a schoolboy who had just been awarded the highest marks in the class. The admiral had found almost nothing to criticize, and instead had applauded Jamesâ work at nearly every turn. His earlier fears seemed foolish now, the huge mass of fish with bladed scales and sharks with toothy maws reduced to nothing but a few thin bones rolling on the ocean floor as they were steadily buried by the sand.
It was almost inconceivable. James had developed a sophisticated procedure for managing his fears â admittedly, they had gotten a bit carried away with him this time and were not as productive as he may have hoped, but he was typically able to put them to good use. He analyzed situations as they arose, catalogued his fears, made note of what they might be communicating to him, and then went about deciding how they might best be mitigated. He had established such a process because, almost always, at least some aspect of what he had feared came to fruition. So he had learned to plan, to build in contingencies and backup plans for when, inevitably, something went awry. But this time, nothing of the sort had happened; he had not been demoted or chastised or found wanting. Quite on the contrary, he had been praised, his work acknowledged and celebrated.Â
Even as he was still happily dwelling in his own disbelieving elation, there was one more fear that still needed his attention: that things may have gone poorly for you. His mind snapped back into focus as he approached the door to the house with Admiral Wright at his side, already working out how he might politely excuse you so that you could take refuge in the bedroom. Perhaps you could claim you felt faint, or maybe he could concoct some vital correspondence that you must be allowed to complete at once.Â
Jamesâ stomach was beginning to tie itself into complex, saltwater-soaked knots as his thoughts presented him with images of your face lined with distress or exhaustion or embarrassment even as you smiled through your own pain. If he opened the door to find you thus, he would be sending the Wrights packing off to another officerâs house as soon as politeness would permit, because he absolutely would not stand to see you in agony for the duration of their visit, nor could he bear the thought of you being forced to once again hide your face beneath that ill-fitting mask that he knew bit at your skin and pinched in all the wrong places, blocking out the glittering sunlight that radiated from you which he was so blessed to bask in every day of his life.
His breath was caught in his throat as he pushed open the front door, indicating for Wright to enter. As soon as he stepped into the house behind the admiral, James was looking for you. And there you were, standing in the foyer beside the woman who must have been Mrs. Wright, although James had not yet met her. You and she dipped into little curtsies of greeting as he and Wright returned bows in equal measure. When your eyes met his, he was very near indeed to buckling at the knees in relief, that caught breath finally escaping his throat in a whoosh.
You looked like yourself â thank God! James could detect no traces of great distress or any other deleterious emotion upon your lovely features. Indeed, far from distressed, you lookedâŠÂ pleased. Evidently his prayers must yet have some currency with the divine â or, far more likely, you were so kind and welcoming and wonderful that Mrs. Wright couldnât even conceive of forming a single negative thought about you. While your smile might have been more restrained than the beaming one that you gifted to him when the two of you were alone, he understood that propriety and the presence of company demanded such comportment, even if he would have far rather felt the radiant beams of your joy fall upon him as he folded you immediately into his embrace.
As he apprised your countenance, he saw you doing the same for him, your eyes flicking over him subtly, no doubt reading the minute lines of his expression which only you had ever learned to decode with such care. He attempted to ensure that he was giving you all the signals he could that he was well, and that things had gone exceptionally with the admiral. Indeed, you must have picked this up, because your lips tilted up even further into a delighted smile, and James wanted nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and kiss you, to taste the infinite golden sweetness of your smile beneath his own lips.
As formal introductions were made between those parties who had not yet been introduced â with James learning that Mrs. Wrightâs given name was Henrietta â he saw you very intentionally catch his gaze and give him a tiny, nearly imperceptible nod, a small, private acknowledgement that all was well for both of you. James returned the minute gesture, and your smile only brightened.
âOh, George dear,â Henrietta began once the introductions had been concluded, momentarily diverting both Jamesâ attention and yours, âyou simply must hear the commodoreâs wife play the pianoforte â she is ever so marvelously accomplished.â
James was nearly ready to burst with pride even as he saw you flutter your eyes downward modestly at Henriettaâs praise of your abilities. He found himself standing taller and also even more desperately wanting to kiss you â well, there was hardly a moment when he didnât desperately want to kiss you, but still. He hoped you knew that you truly weremarvelously accomplished, and so much more besides.
âWell, then judging by her husbandâs excellent work on the naval side of things,â the admiral responded jovially, and James felt your eyes alighting on him, glowing with all the same pride he felt for you as little roses of warmth bloomed in his cheeks, âit seems to me that the Norringtons are a very impressive couple indeed.âÂ
my heart's a sea â chapter ninety-seven (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist (through chapter fifty) (starting with chapter fifty-one)
summary: the morning the Wrights arrive
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, suggestive, implied sexual content, no super explicit descriptions of sex but things are fairly heavily implied, nudity and partial nudity (although not very specifically described), cuteness and fluuuuffffffff; let me know if I've missed anything!
words: 2202
authorâs note: and we're back! I've got a little bit of a shorter chapter today, but hopefully it makes up for its length with sweetness!! âșïž I feel like I've been a bit slower at writing lately, and I apologize for that! I'm currently prepping for my preliminary exams so that I can qualify to write my dissertation, and so maybe doing all that reading and thinking is just draining some of my mental energy đ, so if updates are a little less consistent through August, that's why đđ. but I thank you all so much for your patience, and hopefully it will be duly rewarded with some fun chapters as the Wrights arrive! enjoy! âșïžâșïž
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
this one is 18+ â minors please do not interact
When James awoke the next morning, he would not have been a bit surprised if the soft light beginning to fill the bedroom was radiating from his own body; he felt utterly luminous. You had transformed him into a galaxy of love and tenderness, stars blinking to life from every adoring press of your lips to his skin until he rivaled the cosmos in all its star-strewn glory. Indeed, he had been steadily growing into the wondrous realization that he could be touched gently, lovingly, but he had not yet fully understood the depths of adoration and reverence you could happily lavish upon his body through infinitely tender kisses and caresses that were still singing warmly upon his skin even hours later.
He had also now been blessed with the indescribably glorious image of you above him rather than settled beneath him on the pillows as he was privileged enough to be so delightfully accustomed to. It was not a possibility that Mrs. M had discussed in her book, and thus it had never crossed his mind, but it was certainly filling his mind now, and James fluttered his eyes closed to savor the image of your hair undone and your soft lips parted, your lovely face haloed by golden candlelight as you leaned in to press another deep kiss to his lips.
It was almost beyond his belief that he now had the unrivaled privilege of considering which arrangement he preferred. After a few wonderful moments of consideration, a smile pulled at his lips to realize that they had come to a tie, as they were each exquisitely blissful in their own magnificent ways. If you also found the idea as tempting as he did, James would be very interested indeed in seeing if he might improve upon his own performance in this new situation. The previous night, he feared he had been a bit ineffectual, as the new, entirely unprecedented sensations had overwhelmed him to a state of delirium through which he managed to do little except maintain a steady grip just above the swell of your hips, making certain his hands remained gentle on the luscious softness of your waist even as he threw his head back against the pillows in bliss and spilled the noises that rose from deep within him into your eager lips with more abandon than usual. Next time â if you were willing to grant him such a wondrous prospect â James thought he might be able to more thoroughly engage in every aspect of the divine experience rather than focus merely on ensuring that he delivered enough air into his gasping lungs that he remained delightfully conscious of every wondrous thing he was experiencing.Â
James shifted slightly, enfolding you more fully into his arms as he pressed an utterly adoring kiss to the top of your head. God, he loved you so bloody much, and there was nowhere else in the entire world he wanted to be more than right here, with you wrapped in his embrace, your skin so luxuriously soft and warm and bare against his own, the lingering glow of ecstasy still humming softly where your body was pressed to his. He slid his thumb ever so lightly in little caresses over your shoulder where it peeked out from beneath the covers, closing his eyes once more and basking in this quiet, perfect moment of such exquisite intimacy.
As daylight began to fill the room more fully, Jamesâ mind did what it was so well-trained to do and began to shift itself over to a consideration of the duties and tasks which would fill his day. It was only in that moment that he suddenly remembered: Admiral Wright was coming!Â
He was wide awake in an instant, his eyes shooting open, barely keeping himself from physically startling as that realization rocketed into his mind. But then, in the wake of his sudden awareness of this impending event, he also discovered that he had not thought a thing of it since his onslaught of fears had him gripping the wardrobe door the previous night, and then you had been beside him, asking if he might want to sit down. What had been a menacing shoal of knife-like fish which grew into a feeding frenzy of ravenous sharks had become⊠almost nothing. After you had laid your hand upon his shoulder, it had not crossed his mind again; he had not even dreamed of it. No, all his dreams had been filled with utterly delightful visions of you.
James exhaled a long, quiet breath. Where he had expected this sudden recollection to send him tumbling back into the tooth-lined jaws of his own fears, he instead found his personal ocean to be as calm and temperate as it was when he was perfectly content. Well, perhaps not entirely. There were a few ripples on the water here and there, an errant breeze tossing the rigging, and a few seabirds cawing anxious reminders, but it was nothing at all like yesterday. It did not take him long to discover why, because the reason was still sleeping peacefully in his embrace.
He had been granted the great privilege of thinking of nothing but you all night, even in his sleep. And now that he was once again revealing his thoughts and worries to the light of day, they no longer cast the long, sinister shadows that they had the day before. James owed all his gratitude for that miraculous transformation to you.Â
The way you had touched him and kissed him and gazed at him like he was the only thing you ever wished to see had written your adoration for him deeply within his body, impressing itself upon his very soul. And James knew there was nothing the admiral could do that would erase the way you felt for him. Yes, you loved him as Commodore Norrington, but not because he was Commodore Norrington; that was merely one facet of his character, and you loved allof him. Admiral Wright could demote him all the way down the ranks, but it wouldnât matter a whit to you whether he was Captain Norrington or Lieutenant Norrington or even nothing at all. What mattered to you â the man you loved â was James, your James. And he could never aspire to a higher honor than proudly wearing the title of your James.
As this wondrous realization radiated out from him in soft, warm waves that kissed the golden sands of his private ocean with the utmost tenderness, a thick, watery inhale that was well on its way to becoming something rather like a sob escaped him, and he held you even closer still. He sank his lips gently onto the crown of your head as he blinked back the beginnings of tears, letting the familiar, comforting scent of you fill his lungs as he basked in the warm softness of your skin beneath his lips, reveling in holding all of you in a reverent embrace, your body nestled so perfectly against his own. Good Lord, you truly were the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he loved you so bloody much that he could only hope that one day he would be able to summon the words to point to the vast blue of the ocean stretching on forever and tell you that the endless infinity of those waters and the uncountable new horizons they promised were as close as he could get to expressing the true depth and breadth of his love for you.
âJames?â Your voice brought him back to the moment, the single syllable of his name still thick with sleep from your lips but touched with such sunny sweetness that it was once again challenging his ability to not cry when he was already in such a relatively delicate state.
He felt you shift against him, and he loosened his hold on you so that you might move as you wished. You gently propped yourself up on his chest, your lovely eyes still blinking open in the pale morning light as you reached one hand forward to brush a few wayward strands of hair from his forehead. Your sleepy smile was all the glorious sunrise James would ever need, and the way you were looking at him â like there was nothing else on earth you might wish to gaze upon except for him â as you continued to stroke light, swirling caresses over his cheek were once again causing his throat and eyes to tighten.
âI love you so much.â The words were just a breath, tight in his constricting throat, and so woefully inadequate for the depths of feeling that he truly wished to express, but James was still in the long process of learning to make such tender words familiar on his tongue. Regardless of how quiet or insufficient they were though, your answering smile lit up his entire world.
âHow perfect,â you murmured back, leaning in until your forehead pressed lightly to his, the tip of your nose just brushing his own, âbecause it also happens that I love you so much, my dearest James.â
You sealed that wondrous utterance with a soft, sweet kiss that had James thinking he could so easily do this all bloody day. Even if most of his mind was given over to replaying your words in delighted, wheeling circles, there was also just the tiniest tug reminding him of all he needed to prepare for. But surely the admiral wouldnât begrudge him one more perfect moment with his wife.
Jamesâ arms were folding around you again, pulling you to him and deepening the kiss. Your little breath of surprised laughter quickly melted into a pleased hum, and there were a few noises gathering at the base of his throat as well, especially when your fingers were beginning to thread through his hair and he could feel the luxurious plush of your bosom pressed to his chest as you eased completely into his hold. Lord, if he didnât stop soon, then the admiral was going to need to begrudge him more than just a moment.
Evidently though, you were aware of the impending events of the day just as clearly as James was, because it felt as though both of you pulled back from the kiss at the same moment with mutual reluctance. You caught him with your brilliant, sparkling eyes then, your smile irresistibly playful as you ducked down to press one more tiny kiss to his lips before you rolled off of him and slipped from the bed.Â
Perhaps it was a bit indulgent of him, but James permitted himself to watch you slide off the mattress and move to collect your shift from the floor. He was entirely transfixed by the gentle sway of your hips that the skirts of your gown usually obscured, and he allowed his eyes to trace adoringly over the indescribably lovely shape of your bare form, you skin now caressed by the light of morning even if James ardently wished it were his hands which were doing all the caressing.Â
You slipped your shift over your head, pulling at the fabric of the skirt until it hung as you liked. And then, evidently having discovered that he had not yet joined you in standing, you turned back to face him only to find him still abed amongst the tousled covers. The teasing smile that bloomed on your lips as you planted your hands dramatically on your hips had James laughing before you had even said a word.
âCommodore,â you began, any mock-chastisement you were attempting to work into your voice completely undone by the fact that you were clearly near to laughter yourself, âdonât you have a rather important admiral to be greeting today?â
âHmmâŠâ James hummed with exaggerated seriousness as he played at considering your question as though the answer could have been âno.â âI suppose I may have heard something about that.â
The faux-gravity of his response had the blessed effect of coaxing bubbles of laughter from your mouth, your hands falling from your hips as you looked back at him with so much unreserved affection that his heart was performing great feats of acrobatics within his chest.Â
He did finally push himself up to sit then, rubbing a hand over his face and brushing back the strands of his hair which had fallen around his face as he moved. When he looked up once more, he found you gazing back at him as though he himself was the sunrise. That did impede his efforts to rise fully from the bed somewhat, as his chest was thrumming with such a magnificent bloom of warmth that it momentarily evacuated all the air from his lungs.Â
When he did stand at last, it was to fold you into his arms, pulling you gently against him as your quiet laughter vibrated from your body and into his. You rested your head against him, tucking it into the crook of his neck, your body melting so naturally against his as he held you, both of you relishing the quiet moment of closeness before everything that was to come.
my heart's a sea â chapter ninety-six (james norrington x wife!reader)
my heart's a sea masterlist (through chapter fifty) (starting with chapter fifty-one)
summary: James worries about Admiral Wright's arrival and his wife comforts him
warnings/tags: f!reader, wife!reader, set post-cotbp, historical views of marriage and gender, anxiety/descriptions of anxiety, mention of lack of appetite due to nervousness, hurt/comfort, suggestive moments, implied sexual content, no super explicit description of sex but there is quite a bit of intimate touching and kissing (so hard to know where to draw the line in these definitions), undressing, nudity and partial nudity (although not particularly specifically described), kind of body worship I suppose? (James receiving đ, although there are also references to his wife receiving in other instances), very steamy fluff once more; let me know if I've missed anything!
words: 3961
authorâs note: okayyyyy so get y'all's smelling salts out for this one because it might be the new steamiest chapter I've written yet! đ€ James certainly needed his smelling salts in this one lmao because we are making sure he feels absolutely adored!! this one was not one I had planned, but I was plotting/daydreaming as I often do one night while I was falling asleep and I was like "wait, you know what??? this could be good đ" and thus this scene was born! anyway, as always, I really hope you enjoy!! âșïžâșïž
tag list: @xalphafox @gxpsywitch19 @trelaney @queen-of-bad-ideas @justsomerandomfanfic @purple-iodine @goosewriting @starlightsearches
this one is 18+ â minors please do not interact
James truly had not meant for this to have happened. Through nearly all the preparations for Admiral Wrightâs arrival, he had remained level-headed and pragmatic. He had made a list of tasks which needed to be completed, and then had steadily ticked each one off the list. All that planning, all that preparation, that was meant to have prevented this. But evidently it had not. Because James was sitting in his office at the fort the day before the admiralâs scheduled arrival, and he was fretting.
He must have walked the fort a hundred times over the course of the day, appraising every man he passed and evaluating each visible inch of the fort. He had cleaned his already well-organized office and prepared all the reports and communiques that might be of interest to the admiral. Every weapon was accounted for and each uniform spotless. His men could perform their maneuvers without fault, and even the block of cells in the fortâs jail had been tidied. There was nothing more that could possibly have been done. And yet, James was fretting.
On some level, he understood that it was reasonable to fret; Admiral Wrightâs assessment of his work in the Caribbean had the potential to significantly impact his career, either for the better or the worse. But understanding that did not necessarily make him less frustrated at himself for it. He didnât want to worry â it could make him jittery and flighty and altogether nowhere near as steady or clearheaded as he wanted to be.Â
There was something deeper than that frustration too, something lurking silently in the shadows of his subconscious that only made its presence known in his weaker moments. If he allowed himself to dwell too long on the subject, James would recall another admiral with whom he was a bit more familiar than he wished to be: his father, Admiral Lawrence Norrington. Yes, he had met other admirals across the course of his life and career, but there was something about the particular ring of that title in the air that tended to remind him of his fatherâs old navy friends greeting him with it when they visited the house. And if that admiral were to visit, James was well aware that he would find nothing but faults and causes for reprimand in his sonâs work. In his steadier moments, he could easily rationalize the fact that not all admirals were his father; his father merely happened to be an admiral. But when he was fretting such that he could not summon his typical level-headedness, he was seeing his fatherâs face where Admiral Wrightâs should have been, steely grey eyes giving no quarter as they surveyed all that James had achieved and found it wanting.
James had especially not wanted to carry these worries home to you, and he had done his level best to leave them at the gates of the fort when he departed for the day, but they were as insistent as a flock of seagulls, circling his head with shrill, squawking calls. Then he became even more frustrated than before, not only because of the nuisance they were causing and the fact that they were preventing him from fully enjoying his time with you, but also because he was very aware that he was not the only one nursing worries and doubts.
He could see your latent nervousness in how you would occasionally flit away to correct something that already looked perfect and the way your hands were unconsciously twisting together. They were small, barely-noticeable signs perhaps, but James saw them with such clarity, each anxious movement threatening to scatter shrapnel across his body. At least he had been trained for years in his duties, had spent much of his career building and perfecting everything he would show to the admiral; you had never received such instruction in hosting, and had only very recently received Antoniaâs advice on the matter, yet you would be expected to host Mrs. Wright entirely on your own until James and the admiral returned in the evening. The thought of it was turning his stomach sour as he watched you just pick at dinner, your appetite evidently as scarce as his own was.Â
He did everything in his power to reassure you, to compliment each of the beautiful arrangements you had set up throughout the house and to bury his own anxieties for the moment. But you knew he was not himself, of course you did â you had learned him well enough to know, and it was an unparalleled honor to be understood so well by someone he adored so deeply. But James did wish that such knowing might not cause you the pain he knew it was. He could see the lines of worry tracing your features, the way your soft, lovely lips were turned downwards just slightly at the corners. From the way you were watching him, he could tell that this worry was not just your own nervousness, but your worry for him, because you could tell he was troubled. It didnât seem quite fair that there should be both happiness and sorrow to be found in that realization, but there was a stir of humming warmth inside of him to understand so clearly just how much you cared for him, even if his prevailing sentiment was intense self-directed frustration for causing you worry.
That frustration did not abate â and indeed, grew only stronger still â when a messenger from the fort arrived at the house, causing you to startle and necessitating James to turn his thoughts over entirely to his duties once more, even though he was desperately trying to enjoy his time with you. The messenger relayed that one of the patrol ships had spotted the admiralâs vessel and had exchanged signals with it from afar. Based on the location of both ships, it appeared as though Admiral Wright would be in port by midday.Â
Although this was important information for James to be made aware of, he nevertheless very much regretted that speaking with the envoy and then running the necessary calculations had made him quite late for bed. By the time he was finally entering the bedroom to begin his preparations, Anna had evidently already finished assisting you with yours, because you were dressed in your shift, curled up against the headboard with a book in hand as you awaited his arrival. The smile you offered him in greeting was as sweet as ever, but very clearly twinged with worry for him.
He wanted so very much to reassure you, but he knew that no matter how much he swallowed down his own anxieties, you would still perceive them like the ripples of small, restless fish roiling just below the surface. So James made his most valiant attempt to tamp down on these fretful thoughts as he readied himself for bed, hoping that by the time he slipped under the covers with you, his mind would be as calm and steady as he preferred it to be.Â
However, this attempt somehow only seemed to rile his mind more, and as he was setting his wig upon its stand and beginning to undress himself, his panicked thoughts had become a massive school of swift, darting fish, each one sharp and silvery as a blade when it caught the light. Every move he made to disperse them only unified the teeming mass further until they were moving as one enormous, looming shape composed of a hundred-thousand knives that threatened to cut him if he got too close.Â
James had only his shirt and breeches left to remove when this menacing shape hurtled toward him. He placed a hand on the wardrobe door to steady himself as all the worries he had been harboring and attempting to repress all day descended upon him only for him to realize that they had grown into sharks, each toothy, gaping maw hungry for a taste of his flesh as they dove forward in droves until the water was a veritable whirlpool echoing with the bladed words of his worst fears. His grip on the wood tightened as he closed his eyes, attempting to regulate his breathing andâ
âJames?â
The vicious feeding frenzy dispersed in an instant, the lovely sound of your voice a balm from heaven after nothing but the sounds of gnashing teeth and the shrill, strident pitch of his own mind. Then there was a sunbeam on his shoulder â your hand. The waters around him calmed to a luminous, peaceful blue as beams of sun slid through the waves in undulating beams. James exhaled a shaky breath.
âPlease sit down for a moment,â you entreated. He turned to face you even though he could imagine that what you would find was not particularly pleasant: his eyes were no doubt an ugly red from the force with which he had squeezed them shut, and his face was likely still lined with all the deep fissures those blade-like teeth had raked across it. When James finally met your gaze, he could see the worry for him that you had been carrying quietly all evening had spilled over, your concern for him written on every lovely feature of your face. God, how could he have done this to himself, to you?
âI fear Iâm stillâŠâ He indicated rather pathetically to his breeches and shirt, doing an atrocious job of clearly explaining to you that he was still partially dressed. You just shook your head.Â
âThat does not worry me at all,â you told him, just a small, delicate thread of lightness spooling through your words as you offered him what was surely the brightest smile you could summon when your worries were bubbling up and overflowing. âPlease just sit for a moment.â
James would struggle mightily to deny any request you made of him, especially when there were worried tears welling at the corners of your eyes, and he knew all that concern was for him. He released his vise-like grip on the door of the wardrobe and moved toward the bed, settling himself with a huff of a sigh against the headboard. You joined him in the next instant, sitting on the mattress before him, your soft, perceptive eyes dancing over him as though attempting to solve a rather complex puzzle. He certainly trusted you to discover the solution more than he trusted himself.Â
He was assembling something to say so that he wasnât just slumped against the headboard, looking utterly pathetic and surely not at all like someone you would be proud to be married to, but his words kept getting stuck as he watched the candlelight chase itself in little beams and shadows over you, enchanted as ever by the heavenly vision of you.Â
But before James could summon any coherent thoughts, something in your expression changed. Most of the lines of worry melted from your features and were replaced with a smile that he would have sailed every ocean on earth to see. You shifted closer then, your knee pressing gently against his thigh as you knelt beside him.
âJames,â you began quietly, âmay I kiss you?â Good God in heaven above, there was nothing he wanted more than for you to kiss him. He nodded somewhat weakly, and when he spoke, his voice was hoarse, but all the more sincere for it.
âI would like nothing better.â
Then you were kissing him, your hands gripping the ruffles than lined the opening at the front of his shirt, and suddenly James could no longer see even the distant shadows of sharks lurking on faraway reefs. Instead, there were dazzling curtains of multicolored fish sweeping around him as the ocean burst to life, filled with the feathery creatures you had shown him in the tidepools that now looked like underwater flowers blooming amongst flourishing gardens of coral.
Then you moved against him, and although Jamesâ eyes were closed in bliss, he felt very clearly when you gently shifted your weight on top of him, straddling his lap. As you kissed him, he could feel his cheeks flushing even as blood was also coursing⊠elsewhere. Between deep kisses, you asked him breathlessly if this was too much, if he would prefer that you moved from your current position. James would prefer no such thing. Equally as breathlessly, he somehow managed to stutter out that as long as you were comfortable, he would have you right where you were. Evidently you were just as comfortable as he was, because your answering kiss was blooming with heated passion, your hips nudging somewhat tentatively but no less earnestly toward his own as your lips parted into a sound that James drank in as though it was water from the fount of life itself. His hands were at the luxurious softness of your waist then, the movement more instinct than thought as he settled them above the swell of your hips, not entirely certain what he planned to do except perhaps gently assure you that you were very much at liberty to continue if you wished. He was quite certain by this stage that his desire for you was exceedingly evident in the place where your body was pressed ever so close to his, and he made less of an attempt than he sometimes did to stifle his own noise of utter wanting that rose from deep within him.Â
He felt your hands abandon the ruffle of his shirt and flutter instead to his waistband, tugging at the fabric of his shirt to free it from his breeches even as your lips never left his. Very motivated indeed by the same goal that you were evidently working toward, his hands momentarily gave up their post at your waist and also moved toward where his shirt was tucked into his breeches, fingers fisted in the white fabric as he gathered it and pulled it free.
In that brief moment when he needed to part from you to lift his shirt over his head and cast it onto the floor, you had leaned back, panting, your lips still parted from his fervent kisses. James was happily getting lost in the dizzying pinwheel sparks fizzing with brilliant heat like a sky filled with fireworks that were filling your lovely eyes. When you leaned forward again, he expected your lips to meet his once more, but instead your hands found the bare skin of his shoulders, your thumbs swirling in soft circles over the outer edges of his collarbone and threatening to render him utterly delirious. You pressed your forehead to his, and James was very much aware that your breathing was just as uneven as his was.
âMight you wish to lie back?â you murmured softly, your lips just tantalizing fractions of an inch from his. Unable to produce words, James just nodded.Â
As you momentarily lifted your weight from him so that he might move, easing himself more fully onto the mattress and resting his head against the pillows, the tiniest thought skittered through his mind that wondered at this unusual change in position. But then there were no thoughts in his head at all except the realization that he truly had married the most wonderful woman in the world.
You looked utterly divine as you carefully situated yourself once more, the candlelight spilling over you like liquid sunlight and bringing out every lovely curve and line of your features. With your hair undone from its neat daytime coiffure, your hands planted gently on his chest as you straddled him, your smile the only lighthouse he needed, and the galaxies in your eyes filled with constellations that were pointing him home, James almost cried. You were so indescribably beautiful that there was no other earthly expression that he could summon except for a choking half-sob to articulate how completely overcome he was by the wonder of you.Â
âMa-May I see you?â he stammered, biting back a small grimace at how completely inarticulate that was.Â
What his words lacked in clarity and finesse, he hoped to make up for with the way he grasped the hem of your shift, attempting to more clearly indicate what he was asking. This motion must have clarified to you what he meant, because you flashed him a brilliant smile before gathering the fabric of your shiftâs skirt and slipping it over your head and onto the floor in one fluid motion. The heavenly vision that was then revealed to him had all the thoughts in his head and all the air in his lungs abandoning ship and leaving him only to delirious delight.
Before he could even consider whether it might be prudent for him to make some paltry attempt to catch his breath, you were kissing him, your palms twin sunbeams against his chest as your lips met his. James merely decided that worldly necessities such as air were required only by men who still dwelt upon the plane of mortals, but he was in paradise, and your infinitely sweet kisses were all he would ever need to sustain him.
Then your lips slipped from his own, and an unbidden whine rose in his throat which he just barely summoned enough reason to stifle before such an unbecoming noise escaped him. But evidently you were far from done. You kissed the corner of his mouth before pressing a line of kisses along his jaw, and then your lips wandered to the column of his throat, and it was all James could do to supply himself with enough air that he might not go completely unconscious.Â
You had never kissed him like this before, although perhaps in all fairness, it would be more accurate to say that he had likely never given you the opportunity. Every time he was blessed to share such glorious moments of intimacy with you, James was so lost in the sheer delight of letting his own lips taste every single inch of your soft, warm skin that it had never occurred to him that you might wish to reciprocate. Nor had he known that it would feel like this.Â
He was quite certain that he had become a full-body blush of a man as liquid warmth spilled in delightful waves from each place where your lips met his body, his skin pinking instinctively in response until he was fairly assured that he looked rather like a bouquet of summer roses all the way down to the waistband of his breeches. But if he was indeed so humiliatingly red, he would not have known, because his eyes had fluttered closed of their own accord, every ounce of his concentration fixed upon the tender progress of your lips and the almost impossibly sweet caresses that followed them.
You were peppering kisses across his collarbone, then scattering them like stars over his chest until he was a cosmos of tenderness planted there by your infinitely gentle lips. James was veritably gasping for breath, and he knew you could feel the flurried beating of his heart as you sank your lips reverently into the skin of his chest that had never been touched like this before. He imagined that his own chest was nowhere as near as exquisitely pleasurable to kiss as the divinely luxurious plush of your bosom that he so happily lavished with kisses until he was delirious with delight. But the way your lips were wandering in warm, languid paths across his chest seemed to indicate that there was no lack of pleasure on your part, and James himself was quite on the brink of the very best kind of madness.
 Then your kisses traveled lower, and he sucked in a little breath. Your gentle lips had found the small area of soft down that had collected at his stomach now that he no longer engaged in active training and daily drills the way he had when he was working his way up the ranks. He recalled his fear the very first time he had ever engaged in such intimate acts with you that you might be somehow displeased by it, but in all the times since then that he had been blessed to share the joys of the marriage bed with you, you had never once said a thing about it or looked at him even slightly askance. And if James had needed more concrete proof that you were not bothered in the least by any aspect of his physical form, then he found that assurance in the way you were kissing the tender skin of his stomach the same way he sank long, luxurious kisses into yours: like you could never get enough of the sensation of him beneath your lips.
James felt his toes curling against the mattress, his hands fists in the sheets as your soft, warm lips poured cascades of the tenderest kisses over every inch of him that had barely ever known touch, and had surely never known tenderness, known adoration, like this. He was quite certain that he was becoming as luminous as the night sky, each kiss you pressed to his body lighting up like a star, glowing with such infinite care and love as he had not imagined could exist in the universe until he met you.Â
Then your lips lifted from where they had been planting gardens of precious kisses near the waistband of his breeches, and James opened his eyes. He likely should not have though, because the sight that met him was so divine it was likely only for the eyes of gods and angels, and surely he was not meant to see such a heavenly vision. You were breathless and panting, your hands resting near his hips as you steadied yourself, but you looked so happy. The expression on your face was pure radiance, and he recognized it instantly as the way he felt when he was granted the honor of touching and kissing every perfect line and curve of your body until his hands and lips were singing with the soft warmth of you beneath them.
As ill-advised as it might have been for his ability to remain fully conscious, James pushed himself upwards to sit, pressing his forehead to yours as he gasped for breath just as you were. The two of you were a delightful tangle of legs and arms, and it was no longer clear whether you were sprawled in his lap or he in yours, but such a frivolous distinction hardly mattered when he had the unrivaled privilege of being able to consider himself one with you, souls and bodies bound together as husband and wife.
âDo you wish me to continue?â you breathed, your fingers fluttering around the cloth-covered buttons of his breeches to further indicate what you meant. God, James wanted nothing more.
âVery much so,â he whispered back. How had he gotten this bloody lucky? He could shout his complete devotion to you from the crowâs nest of the Dauntless until the whole port heard and such an expression of his sentiments would still be pale and frail to compared to the true enormity of the oceans of adoration he felt for you.
Then your fingers were tugging gently at the buttons of his breeches, and his lips were on yours as he endeavored with all his might to ensure you could feel all his reverence and love for you in the way he kissed you as though there was nothing else in the world except you and him. And in that moment, there was nothing else except you and James until even the difference between you and him dissolved entirely as two became one amidst infinite seas of tenderness and utter adoration.
