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Turn Back to Shore: Chapter One

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Summary: Katherine Elsworth didn't expect to end up in Jamaica with no parents, no money, and no prospects. But when offered a lucrative position in Caribbean society, Kate endeavors to learn more about the newly appointed Commodore James Norrington.

Despite the lack of stability, difficult family relations, and tensions from other citizens of Port Royal during the Golden Age of piracy, Katherine is doing her best to control the situation she's landed herself in.

And James Norrington seems to understand exactly how she feels, every step of the way.

Words: 4300

Characters: James Norrington x Original Female Character

Warnings: Katherine Elsworth is having a no-good, horrible, very bad day.

A/N: hehehe -- Thanks for following along with this! I'm unsure of how this is going to develop, but I'm trying to be better about posting my work this year. I come from a background of writing OCs and really love getting to flesh out characters, & it's been nice to exercise how I originally started writing! Hope you enjoy this journey with me <3333

Regardless of the infernal isle she stepped on, the world smelled of smoke.

Everywhere she went, Katherine, called Kate, stumbled upon it like an omen. She could not escape it even though she had been running from that same distinct, putrid smell for weeks, for what felt like months, years at this point.

To her, smoke harbored death. It carried on the breeze and hugged the entire crew tight, sank into her skin, permeated her clothes down to her stays, and served as the constant reminder that a world without smoke and ash and fire was no longer a reality.

“Welcome to Port Royal, Miss…” The first mate broke through the melancholia of the sole passenger of the Neptune as she let the smell curl around her, careening her towards the edge of the ship, her feet rearing to make for the labyrinth of docks laid out before her.

“Miss Elworth,” Kate reminded him for the hundredth time, exasperated and nauseous by the conversation alone.

It did not help that they were so near to shore, nor did the greatly diminished waves. The intense roils of the ocean that she had felt every minute of her voyage plagued her as if she were still on open waters.

Nausea gripped her and held on as she surged for the railing, attempting to inhale but only getting the gag-inducing effects of mid-morning salty brume. She willed herself not to heave against the ship in front of both her crew and the inhabitants of the island town that were watching the ship dock.

The first mate looked at Kate, a laugh bubbling up from his twisted mouth before he shook his head and decided he would rather not see the young woman retch up the contents of breakfast in such shallow waters.

Throughout the voyage, her transporters had made it very clear that she was an inconvenience at best, and a detriment at worst. The minute she set foot on the glorified boat, hardly considered a proper ship, had been a minute that she since regretted.

And each careless comment, whether made by one of the crew or, at times, the Captain himself, reminded her that this journey had been nothing but Hell on this godforsaken Earth every moment since.

To start, there had been little breeze.

The Captain, who boasted of four days of travel time, a marvel in 1727, had been exponentially delayed and proven completely and utterly wrong.

Despite the lack of waves to carry them to port, Kate’s mal de mer had been a constant reminder that the only woman on board was not even fit as proper company or socialization for sunworn sailors.

To be so sick on the sea did not bode well with the privateers and fishermen, the suspicious lot that they were, who remained dubious of the woman who spent the entire time in her cabin, unable to keep any food down and looking a rather inhuman shade of green any time she dared to leave her room.

And then there was another matter entirely of those bastard pirates that sent even the strongest amongst them scrambling below the decks. All of the men had whispered over meals and while taking inventory, something about spotting the Black Pearl and keeping a weather eye on the horizon.

Kate was less concerned with the notion that pirates would plunder a simple passenger ship with meager rations and even more meager trade goods, and was more worried about the fact that each rock of the ship would spell out her imminent demise.

The sun and the salt water had gotten to the best of her, and within hours of leaving Nassau behind, she had broken out into a cold sweat, chills, and vomited her small breakfast against the ship.

Had Kate not remembered the same symptoms she felt nearly seven years prior when she accompanied her parents from England, she would have thought an illness had finally swept her.

Over the course of her never-ending journey, she had spent so much time in her cramped quarters, trying not to think about the not-so-gentle rocking of the boat, or the fact that her meals had failed to make their way through her body more times than she could count.

Even now, as the sudden stomach pain abated and she unclenched her teeth, Kate was not sure if her stomach rumbled from the lap of water against the hull or if she was merely starved from the past week.

Digging her fingernails into the salt-soaked wood of the ship, Kate sprang forward as soon as the first mate announced they had officially entered the Jamaican port and the Neptune was tied firmly to the massive pillars that designated their assigned space.

She could have jumped ship, had it not been the impolite, and dangerous, thing to do.

Not that the Captain of the ship would have cared. At least he had spared his curious looks when he realized that her company would also be accompanied by the awful sounds of her dry heaving every five minutes.

The Captain would be back out within the day, ferrying anyone who wanted a fresh start in a new city, for a hefty price.

Kate wondered if he would make his way back to the Bahamas, a more sinister part of her wondered why she even cared anymore.

There was nothing left for her in the British colony – her parents’ graves still fresh, money tied up in shares of local merchants her father knew, and information regarding them relegated to his will that no lawyer would decode for her.

It had taken too much time to get from the outskirts of town to the ship. A trip that would have taken less than a day’s ride from her home had taken weeks, flitting between homes like a woodstar, calling on the goodwill of her father’s business partners.

It made Katherine’s blood boil. How quickly, without the reliance of her father, she had been relegated to squandering for help, calling in debts and relying on the generosity of those who had never been known for their charity.

It had barely been enough to afford the passage fare here. And the Neptune had not been kind in negotiating her passage fees.

Indeed, she could have murdered every last one of the crew members as they chatted idly about how smooth the sailing had been.

Perhaps that was their only problem; Kate seemed to have challenges heaped on her by the tenfold, and although she could not change the hand she was dealt, the congeniality of the sailors did not make things easier.

At least, Kate thought to herself as she dragged herself to disembark, I have returned to dry land.

She stumbled down the plank, nearly tripping the first mate into the moderate depths that lapped against the dock.

Clearly, Kate had a lot to regain as she struggled to keep herself upright, the world tilting around her. She heard the crew’s guffaws and hollering, and willed herself to keep moving forward, to ignore them all. To leave them in the past, just as she had left everything else.

Her first impression of this strange, new island was not doing any favors to the unease that had settled over her with the smoke. Her only hope was that as a loyal British subject, she would be able to ingratiate herself into British Jamaican society with relative ease.

After all, the Crown owned both the Bahamas and Jamaica, and she was thankful to hear a familiar bevy of accents that washed over her in place of the tides, all unfamiliar and distorted across the commotion, but she could make out familiar words, and that was enough to keep her continuing onwards.

As she walked, it was becoming abundantly clear Kate was inheriting much of the same issues she had abandoned back in Nassau.

Voices rose and fell, shouting and cleaning up after shattered splinters of wood, brushing destroyed cargo into the ocean. It was not so distant from how the Bahamas had been when she left.

Port Royal looked just as destroyed as Nassau after the raids when she had first arrived on the island’s shores. It nearly looked the same as the last moment she had seen her home.

Her father had been a modestly successful merchant, but not nearly successful enough to stop creditors from appearing on the darkened doorstep of her home, her father’s body not yet cold.

Kate sent every single one of them away.

She didn’t know how or when or where the fire started, only that she had awoken, smoke choking her lungs, shoving anything she could find into a travel case, and hauling it out the front door as ash gathered in her hair and fire licked her ankles.

Kate had fled in the middle of the night, knocking on the door of one of her father’s business partners in the heart of Nassau at dawn. By the time she had left the city, the investigation of her family estate was still underway.

The last seven years of her life had been reduced to rubble and dust in a matter of hours.

Soot stained her clothes, and the back of her mantua was shredded, having caught on a loose nail in the house as she frantically found her way out.

Port Royal had been the closest city where she knew someone other than the merchants who assisted her family. It did not stop her from wishing she were anywhere but approaching such a war-torn island in the moment.

This will be a soft place to land eventually, Kate tried hard to remind herself, to repeat this until she believed it.

But the truth of it was, she had no idea if anywhere was a safe place to land anymore.

The rubble of Port Royal was becoming clearer and clearer as she unsteadily neared the shore, the dust barely settled over what she had previously assumed was a prosperous city.

As she drew closer to the end of the docks, the cacophony of voices joined in harmony, buzzing with excitement.

No soldier or sailor on the harbor turned his back to the sea, all of them watching out of the corner of their eyes as if waiting for an attack in broad daylight.

Taking a deep breath, Kate suppressed a sigh as she smelled the sea air mixing with something else – bitter and metallic, a scent she had become achingly familiar with.

Gunpowder.

There was both the lingering stench of it, as well as a newer freshness from a group of British navalmen that passed her, carrying it on their clothes and fingerprints. Gunpowder always had a habit of permeating everything.

Her deep breath did nothing but make her feel sicker. Especially as the docks lurched after a particularly powerful wave sloshed underneath, making her fumble once more.

Kate took a moment to regain her footing and focused on taking another step forward.

She could still remember how she had felt getting off the ship when they landed in Nassau, how she vowed to her parents that she would never return to London to avoid feeling that way again. And she hadn’t boarded a ship once since arriving, until now.

But both her parents were dead, so many vows had been broken, and Kate would risk the worst of her mal de mer if only she could retain some sense of normalcy and security, even if it meant traveling back to London.

Kate was only a few meters from the break between dock and street, and she took another steadying breath, raising her eyes to better glimpse her temporary home.

As far as one could see, cannon fodder had made short work of buildings closest to the sea, some reduced to little more than shells, red-tiled roofs riddled with gaping holes, doors ripped off hinges, and extensive damage that wound down the coastline.

The streets, although unfamiliar, were littered with military men in their striking red uniforms, holding shiny new muskets, most of them milling about as if they were waiting for something, or someone, to deliver their next orders.

That was more familiar to her, having seen so many of these men in the heart of the Bahamas these previous few years. The British Empire seemed to have no shortage of young men willing to dedicate their lives for King and country.

Regardless of the island, most looked barely old enough to hold a rifle, the lot of them glistening and green, down to their new boots that had never seen a mud puddle, let alone a hard day of combat.

Not that you know anything about combat, mused Kate as she made her way unsteadily down the final platform, swaying unsteadily under her feet.

She paused again, surveying her surroundings, trying desperately to find her land legs.

To the left of her sat an imposing brick fort that jutted out against the coast, heavily fortified. To the right, the rest of the town, bustling in mid-morning, a grand house overlooking it all on top of a hill in the distance.

Through broken slats of the docks, Kate shuffled through the debris, trying to ensure she wasn’t in any of the soldiers’ ways, a steadfast determination taking hold as she walked, reorienting her senses to land.

Despite her aversion to the ocean, the Bahamas had been her home. She had made friends there, formed a life, nearly married – it had all come together so perfectly, until these last few months had made her previous life unsustainable.

And as a woman on her own, Kate recognized now just how limited she was in making any choice for herself that didn’t involve either falling under the protection of a benevolent uncle or finding a man who would agree to marry her under such dire circumstances.

She just had to find someone, anyone, to aid her, especially when she was so limited by her sex, without home or land, and floundering on her own.

She felt something hit her, hard, and before she could react, she was careening towards unsteady ground.

The rush of water rose to greet her, looming before her as if time itself had slowed down, waves lapping over thick detritus that would surely cause pain were she to hit the murky bed of sea and salt.

She never felt the sting of salt water nor heard the sickening crunch of bone on half-submerged planks that she had seen a moment before, her eyes screwed tight as she fought the urge to scream.

Instead, her arm ached and burned with the force of something keeping her upright, pitched back onto the tips of her toes, her feet pinching uncomfortably in her shoes as she yelped in pain.

“I beg your pardon!” Kate let out in a screech as she was promptly righted, her head spinning as she found herself settled back on the dock.

“My sincerest apologies, madam,” She heard a deep baritone sputter for the right word, caught off guard at her response.

Chest heaving in her stays as she fought for breath, Kate finally opened her eyes, immediately eclipsed by mid-morning sunlight that washed out everything and everyone around her.

She took a shuddering breath, trying to keep her composure. Kate attempted to behave as any lady would, as much as she wanted to throw the entire notion of being a lady away.

Another awkward moment passed between the man who had nearly caused both her demise and rescued her from certain misfortune as she attempted to take another breath, feeling just as sick as she was on board the ship mere moments prior.

Shielding her eyes from the sun, she was immediately greeted by a solid chest clad in blue, white, and gold. He was flanked on either side by two men wearing standard-issue red.

An officer had nearly been her undoing. That same officer had just saved her, as well.

More than a solid chest was he, the sun glinting off shiny new buttons affixed to his naval coat, and Kate finally stood at her full height, not inconsiderable compared to her peers, and was met with the broad shoulders of her run-in sailor.

“I once again, beg your finest pardon, I implore you to unhand me!”

Kate’s gaze drew further up and found a well-defined jaw, tightly pressed lips, strong nose, and piercing green eyes that were currently staring into her sunworn face with such intensity that she thought she had done something wrong.

He was handsome in the most classical sense of the word. Kate’s breath threatened to stutter again, the sheer look of impudence upon his features enough to stop her heart.

All of this was framed by a white-powdered wig, curled at the edges and perched atop his head with a black tricorn hat, outfitted with gold trim, matching his uniform, which looked no older than a few days of wear, at most.

His hand, wrapped around her upper arm, peeled away from her as if burned and remained at rest.

She dusted herself off as best she could, but nearly a week at sea made it nary impossible for her dress to look as good as it did when it had been freshly laundered. It didn’t help that she suddenly felt incredibly self-conscious in the presence of such a man, all buttoned to perfection, not a hair out of place.

“My apologies, again, madame,” He repeated a second time. His head bowed, a complaisant smile gracing his face that did not reach his eyes, even as they roamed over her features for the briefest moment, “I did not intend to nearly cast you into the sea mere moments ago.”

“Well,” Kate lowered her hand from her face, squinting in the mid-morning sunlight, “It seems that if you weren’t in such a rush, you could save yourself from nearly sending a lady to her sudden death.”

“I would hardly agree that three feet of water would mean instantaneous death for you,” He muttered, that brief smile fading back into seriousness.

That look rather suits him – the thought forced its way into Kate’s mind as she attempted to bury it as soon as it appeared.

“Oh yes, sir, never you mind the boards in the water, or the fact that I very well could have drowned had my dress caught, and I would have been unable to pull myself up.” Kate huffed in annoyance, crossing her arms.

As soon as she said those words, the man’s face fell even further.

He nodded solemnly, taking her words to heart, “Then please accept my most gracious apologies for causing you any harm; it was not my intent.” “I am sure it was not,” Kate grumbled again, in her own way, a resigned acceptance of his apologies, “Now, if you would please excuse me, I’m afraid that after spending five minutes on this island, I now have to get acquainted with actually setting foot on its shores.”

“Is there somewhere I can accompany you to? Or have one of my men accompany you?”

“Is your city somewhat of a den for all things uninhabitable and debauched or is a young woman free to roam in broad daylight?”

Had he been walking, Kate was sure he would have stumbled – his face made it readily apparent that most women did not speak to him this way. Perhaps no woman had ever spoken to him so openly or in such a manner.

Kate was sure she, herself, had never spoken to anyone so brazenly.

Expecting a reply, Kate tapped her fingers against her arm, the same one he had just been holding so tightly, and she grimaced, wondering if it would bruise. It already felt tender as her fingers ghosted across it. She was just lucky it had not been pulled out of the socket completely.

By God, he was strong.

“What on Earth even occurred here?” Kate asked when he did not reply to her first question. It was a feeble attempt to distract herself, looking at him in broad daylight a challenge.

Again, she was caught off guard by the angled slope of his nose, the way his eyes burned into hers, illuminated by the sea, examining her with a ferocity he must have reserved for enemies in battle.

“I am sorry, again,” He began, his eyes flicking down from her face to her arm, “For grasping you so tightly. We had an incident with a band of pirates not but three days prior.” He spat the word pirate like venom, hatred clouding over his eyes as he looked towards the horizon, as if he could track them down from his position on shore.

“If I may be so clear as to state, these times are not safe for near any person, let alone a young woman alone in a new town. Please allow one of my men to escort you, if only for my own peace of mind.”

“With all due respect, sir,” Kate was attempting to be as congenial as possible, but his insistence, especially after nearly dropping her into uncertain waters mere moments ago, was making it increasingly difficult.

“I was perfectly fine to walk myself four streets before you nearly careened me into the depths; I should think I am perfectly fine to continue on that journey.”

The edge in her voice shocked him, and he raised both hands in mock deference to her before responding, “Very well. But do be careful when venturing out after dark, I shouldn’t like to see a woman of your...nature...happen upon those who would intentionally cause you harm.”

Before Kate had the chance to retort, he brushed past her with a swift nod, hand pressed to his cap, the two men at his side filed past her before they resumed their previous stance with the blue-coated man in the middle, hurrying down to the docks to a large war ship, the name of which Kate could not make out from her current distance.

“Damn him,” She murmured under her breath, careful to not let any of the other men around her hear her as she moved quickly in the opposite direction, trading the wooden planks of the dock for the cobblestone and brick streets of Port Royal.

She dared to turn around, to see if her temporary tormentor was still visible, but he had faded behind several boxes of cargo, and all she could see was a sea of scattered redcoats, milling about their day, cleaning up from the previous raid, or chartering new courses to whoever knew where.

She paraded quickly down the street closest to the sea, avoiding loose cobblestone and staying far away from the edge of the road lest she really did wind up back in the ocean.

Kate knew she was here to find her cousin; she had written to her and received the single reply of a street name in Port Royal, where she hoped to find a relative kind enough to take her in.

Her father had spoken at length about his uncle’s sister, her oddities and eccentricities, both part of her charm and her stain upon the family. She had never had any children of her own; her husband left her for months at a time. She seemed to revel in the solitude.

Harriet Redford, cautioned Kate’s father, was both a lesson and a warning to her on who not to become or how not to behave.

Now, Kate merely prayed her cousin would be forgiving enough to allow her to stay for a few weeks while she got her bearings, sent for assistance to another aunt and uncle in England, and was able to return safely to family she hadn’t seen for nearly a decade.

She had no idea if her cousin or her husband would take in a distant relative, unmarried and orphaned at twenty and seven years old, knowing the liability it would cause for every single member of the family.

Despite the portside town and the events she had just learned about, she was unsurprised to find merchants roaming past the streets, clergymen on their way to the churches, and men of less caliber on the way to the taverns and brothels that she knew existed in every port city.

Swallowing thickly, she resigned herself to this new fate. If she could not afford to marry for love or higher status, something that she had endeavored for in the Bahamas, after everything had been thus far ripped away from her, what would become of her then?

When everything hinged on her marriage to a respectable man, one who could at least provide the necessities, if she could not secure that, could she really rely on the good graces of her family forever?

As she walked, the realization of this struck her that regardless of here or in England, she would have to come to terms with this peculiar fate sooner or later, preferring to straighten this mess out much sooner than in the desperate hope of a far-off family.

She would marry the oldest eligible bachelor in Port Royal if she had to, or a junior officer several years younger than her – she could manage it. She could deal with it.

Kate would have to deal with it.

Caught up in this thought, Kate realized she had traversed the length of Queen Street to no avail, no signs pointing out that her distant cousin lived in any one of these ornate homes.

Her breath caught in her throat as she looked up to one of the loggias and found a woman staring back at her, hand pressed to one of the archways, surveying the ground below her.

There was a moment’s silence that seemed to eclipse the entire street, and in that moment, Kate knew she had found exactly who she was looking for. The woman nodded, as if in recognition, disappearing behind a pillar.

All that was left to do was knock on the front door and hope that her cousin was a considerate woman.

And pray that the rest of her time in Port Royal was swift and merciful.