Kindred in Spirit

she/her | 30s writer | fangirl | lover of period drama a03: kindredinspirit

[kindredinspirit]

Chapter 9 of The Wreck of Our Hearts

James finds himself seeking Katherine throughout the day and resolves to keep his distance. Unsuccessfully. Then, a conversation under the stars leads to James asking questions he knows he shouldn't and wanting things he believes he can never have.

A James Norrington x OC Fanfic - Set during the events of Dead Man's Chest and will continue through At World's End and beyond

[kindredinspirit]

I am over the moon for this gorgeous drawing by @arieldrawsstuff / @clearpurpleskies of James Norrington and Katherine Swann from The Wreck of Our Hearts

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“You’ve always been very kind,” she said.

Always.

She had said it as though it were an unquestionable fact.

The silence stretched between them. James became aware that he didn’t want her to leave. Perhaps that should have surprised him. It didn’t.

“Katherine.”

She looked up.

For one reckless moment he thought how easy it would be to close the distance between them. To press his lips to hers.

And he wanted to.

He wanted to kiss Katherine. God help him, he wanted to.

His gaze dropped, ever so briefly, to her mouth, and he leaned forward. When he looked back up, she was looking at him the same way.

Then her eyes fluttered closed.

And with that, he knew with terrifying certainty that she would allow it. She would allow him to kiss her.

The force of that realization gave him pause.

Not like this.

Because in that moment he didn’t want stolen kisses in the shadows of a pirate ship. He wanted—

He wanted things he could not have. Things he could not give her.

And she’d just been speaking of the man she loved.

What was he doing?

He cleared his throat and stepped back. Only half a pace, but enough. Enough that the small distance cut him to the quick and left him filled with longing.

She opened her eyes.

“You should sleep,” he said in a voice more confident than he felt.

At first, she simply stared at him. Then she looked away.

“Goodnight,” she said softly, before slipping around him and disappearing into the darkness.

With the loss of her, the sharp ache returned beneath James’s ribs. Because wanting to kiss her and having any right to do so were not the same thing.

This was Katherine Swann. The Governor’s daughter.

And he was a penniless nobody, serving aboard a pirate ship.

[kindredinspirit]

Look at this beautiful art by @arieldrawsstuff / @clearpurpleskies of James Norrington and Katherine Swann from The Wreck of Our Hearts

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Katherine opened her mouth to say something, just as the ship rolled suddenly beneath them. She pitched forward and James reacted without thinking. One hand caught her firmly around the waist as the other braced against the rail. The motion carried her into him, and she steadied herself with one hand against his shoulder. 

For one suspended moment the world narrowed. 

His hand rested against the curve of her waist. She was close enough that he could feel the gentle rise and fall of her breathing. 

Then he made the mistake of meeting her eyes.

She was watching him from beneath those long, dark lashes again, her lips parted in surprise. 

Good Lord. 

Neither of them moved. 

It occurred to him, somewhat later than it ought to have done, that the deck had long since steadied.

He cleared his throat. 

“Careful,” he said quietly. 

Katherine’s eyes remained fixed on his for another heartbeat. Then a faint flush coloured her cheeks and she gave a small nod. 

“Thank you.”

Only then did he release her and step back.  

She slipped past him and continued down the deck without another word. James watched her until she disappeared among the crew.

[boltlightning]

jack davenport as lieutenant ralph clarke the incredible journey of mary bryant (2005–2007)

[boltlightning]

i thought if i demanded more and pushed myself, it’d be a means to escape my own prison. ➢ jack davenport as lieutenant ralph clarke, the incredible journey of mary brant (2005)

[rynnnthings]

[rynnnthings]

[rynnnthings]

[kindredinspirit]

More gorgeous art by @arieldrawsstuff / @clearpurpleskies of James Norrington and Katherine Swann from The Wreck of Our Hearts

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Below decks, they filled a pail with fresh water from the cask in the  galley, then found what might have once passed for a surgeon’s quarters. James picked through the supplies until he found a jar of fragrant salve. Katherine drew a deep breath. 

“It smells like the forest back in England,” she said. 

James smiled. He had never thought of it that way, but she was right.

“It’s balsam of arcaeus,” he said. “You’re smelling the pine.”

He set the jar aside and reached for what remained of the bandages. He frowned. They looked suspiciously unclean. As he considered what else could be used, Katherine pulled a neatly folded white handkerchief from her pocket. 

“You can use this,” she said, holding it out to him. 

He unfolded it carefully, running his fingertips over the soft linen. In one corner, worked in fine green silk, were two small letters. 

K. S. 

He looked up and shook his head. 

“The salve will ruin it.” 

Katherine smiled. 

“My mother embroidered it,” she said. “I think she would have preferred my hand to the handkerchief.”

James hesitated, then folded it into a narrow band and laid it on the work table beside the pail and salve. Certain that everything was in order, he turned his attention to Katherine and became suddenly aware of how close the little cabin was. She stood only a step away, watching him in that way she had of making him feel both self-conscious and completely at ease. Yesterday, in the hold, he’d blamed the cramped passageway between the casks. He was beginning to suspect the surroundings had very little to do with it.  

He cleared his throat and held out his hand. When she placed hers in it, he found himself studying it for a moment. It was red now where the rope had marked it. 

“I suppose this means I am not yet an accomplished sailor,” she said.

“Not quite,” he said, dipping a cloth into the pail. He wiped gently at her hand to remove the tar and rope fragments, careful not to press too hard against the raw skin. Glancing up at her, he said, “This is not how you were meant to spend your time.”

“I could say the same of you,” she replied quietly. 

He knew what she meant. Yet he found he did not mind his present circumstances.

When he was satisfied that the wounded area was clean, he used his fingers to gather a portion of salve from the jar. As he worked it gently into the reddened skin, he was deeply aware of the warmth of her hand in his, and of the quiet way she watched him as he worked. 

“What was the song they were singing?” she asked. 

He looked up. 

“I’m sorry?”

“When we were lowering the topsail.”

“A working song,” he replied, returning his gaze to her hand. 

“Does it make the work less tedious?”

James shook his head, gathering more salve. “It’s to keep time. So everyone pulls together.”

Katherine was quiet for a moment. 

“Are there other songs sailors sing?”

“Hundreds.”

“Do you have a favourite?”

James was silent for a moment. Katherine had a curious habit of asking questions no one else ever had. He knew countless songs from his time at sea, but no one had ever asked him what he preferred. 

“There was,” he said at last, “an old ballad my grandmother was fond of.”

“Will you sing it?”

He paused, then his gaze lifted to hers. She was looking up at him from beneath long lashes. He had the distinctly uncomfortable impression that, had she asked almost anything of him in that moment, he would have found it exceedingly difficult to refuse. 

“If you’d like,” he said. Then he drew a breath and quietly sang.

There was a fair and fine young man.

He was a squire’s son.

He loved a bailiff’s daughter dear.

She lived at Islington.

But she was coy and never would

On him her heart bestow.

So they sent him down to London town,

Because he loved her so.

As he sang, he adjusted her fingers, aligning them so the handkerchief would sit evenly. His thumb brushed her palm in passing. It was nothing. An accident. Except that they both went still for half a breath. Then he continued wrapping the handkerchief carefully around her palm.  

“Why did you stop?”

He smiled faintly at the memory. “Because my grandmother always stopped there.” 

He finished the wrap and tied it off with a final, precise knot. Then, instead of letting go immediately, he checked it, pressing at the handkerchief to ensure it would hold. 

“There.”

Katherine flexed her fingers experimentally, then grew still. 

“What happens?” she asked. “In the song.”

Their eyes met. For a moment, he forgot the question. 

“They find one another in the end,” he said at last. 

Katherine looked at him for so long that James found himself wishing, quite suddenly, that he knew what she was thinking. 

At last, she smiled. It was a quiet smile, tinged with a sadness he couldn’t account for. Her gaze drifted downward. 

“I’m glad.”

Then a shout rang from above. 

“Hands!”

James released her hand immediately, disturbed by how keenly he felt the loss.

[kindredinspirit]

Gorgeous art by @arieldrawsstuff / @clearpurpleskies of James Norrington and Katherine Swann from The Wreck of Our Hearts

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They drifted together down the deck as he explained how it was possible to navigate the darkness, which sounds to listen for and what might signal danger. Several coils of rope had been stacked near the rail. James sat on one and Katherine chose the next coil over. 

“How did you end up in Tortuga?” she asked after a time. 

He drew a long breath, then took a sip of rum. 

“I didn’t know where else to go after—”

He didn’t finish, but she understood. The hurricane. And all that followed. 

“Why did you not go home?”

He let out a dull laugh.

“Home?” he said. “Port Royal was my home. I couldn’t go back there.”

“And England?” she asked, reaching for the bottle and taking a drink. He gave her a look and pulled it back from her. 

“England hasn’t been my home since I was a child.”

“Have you no family?”

He took another drink.

“I have two sisters. They’re both married, with children of their own. It would have been unfair to burden them with my disgrace.” 

Katherine waited for him to say more. In all the years she’d known him, she couldn’t recall him ever speaking of his family. 

“My mother died when I was very young,” he continued. “My grandmother raised the three of us until I joined my father at sea.” 

He shook his head. 

“I can only imagine what my father would have said if he knew what I’ve become.” He let out a huff of laughter. “No. I know exactly what he would have said.”

“He would have been disappointed in you?”

“That,” James said, “is an understatement.”

He drank again, then glanced at her. 

“Have you ever disappointed your father?”

There was no malice in it, just a thinly veiled humour suggesting he already knew the answer. Katherine held out her hand for the bottle, and he reluctantly passed to her, watching as she tried, unsuccessfully, to hide the wince as she drank. 

“I am unclear as to whether that’s a yes or a no,” he said with narrowed eyes.  

“I’m on a pirate ship drinking rum with a disgraced former naval officer. I hardly think this is the life he intended for me.”

A laugh escaped him. 

“And you believe he would be disappointed in you?”

She bit her lip and considered the question. 

“I think he’d be terribly impressed, actually. Elizabeth he could imagine here. But me?” 

She could feel his eyes on her. 

“And yet,” he said after a moment, “here you are.”

Katherine shrugged. 

“I do have the feeling that half the crew is afraid of me.”

Amusement lit his eyes, and something warm settled in the base of her stomach. She didn’t think it was the rum. 

“I think you’re very well aware of the lengths to which my father will go to indulge his daughters.”

“I was aware of that, yes.” He smiled, then his expression turned serious. “You’re very lucky.”

“Yes,” she said, because she was. 

“Do you miss him?”

“Very much. And he must be beside himself with worry. It’s horrible, not knowing whether someone you love is safe.”

Heat crept up her face at the memory of all those months she had waited and wondered where James had gone after resigning his commission. 

She took a long drink from the bottle this time. 

“Easy,” he said, taking it from her. His fingertips grazed hers—brief contact that lasted no more than a heartbeat—yet the warmth in her stomach bloomed just the same. 

“I shouldn’t be allowing you to drink.”

She arched one eyebrow.

“You presume to tell me what I am and not allowed?”

He didn’t answer. He was looking at her with a soft smile on his lips. He was likely amused by her, or exasperated perhaps. But as the lantern light danced around them and the songs of the sea floated up from below, it was pleasant to imagine something more.

[lozeyart]

Hello! I got a request on how I learned anatomy so well! Outside of the very basic "Just keep drawing and you'll get better advice" I thought I'd offer some tips and tricks I used to help me understand anatomy better as an artist!

I also realize I do things a bit unconventionally. I'm mostly self taught and I still struggle with art and youtube tutorials are my best friends, but I can also acknowledge my skill and how far I've come from when I first started drawing people all the way back in 2011.

I know I'm also bad at explaining things, so I'm very sorry if some of this is just incomprehensible lol. If anyone wants clarification on something or a more in depth tutorial on how I do something, let me know and I can try and be more detailed about certain parts of my process! But this bad boy was getting long enough, so I decided to end it.

I hope this was at least a little bit helpful or at least insightful!

[frenchublog]

Hi! Absolutely adore your work 💗 I’m not sure if you’ve gotten a question like this before, so feel free to ignore, but do you have any tips for capturing likeness of characters you draw? You manage to stylize characters, especially live action characters, just right!

Thank you <3

[kindredinspirit]

I was tagged in this tag game by @toomanydamnfangirls and @missiemoosie. Thank you! 💖

Last song: "I Found You" by Amber Run. It's part of the playlist for my James Norrington / OC fic and I've been listening to it on repeat while writing the next chapter. Honourable mention to "Anchor" by Novo Amor for one scene in particular.

Currently watching: I just finished watching The Other Bennett Sister and the second season of The Four Seasons. I'm also doing a rewatch of Coupling with Jack Davenport. ...that makes it sound like maybe I'm watching it with Jack Davenport. I wish...

Current obsession: I think it's pretty obvious from the things I post here, but James Norrington and the rest of the POTC crew are forerunners. I'm also doing a lot of writing these days, and using my vacation time in PEI to get even more in.

Currently reading: I've got a hard copy of The Night We Met by Abby Jimenez on my nightstand, and I'm listening to the audiobook for People Watching by Hannah Bonam-Young, who I was lucky enough to meet in person at a reading a couple weeks ago. I'm working my way through her books and then I'm going to start on Farah Heron's books. They're both amazing Toronto-based Romance writers. 💖

Currently working on: Chapter 10 of The Wreck of Our Hearts, which I'll hopefully be able to post tomorrow, and then I'll start stressing over Chapter 11, which will contain a pivotal moment 👀 ...and I want to get it right. I'm also trying to plot my PEI AU The Islander's Guide to Fake Dating so that I can get back to that this week.

Last web search: "cute little guns that fit in a purse" ...this is for something else I'm working on that may never see the light of day, but it's fun to write 🙃

Tagging @bowditch @xalphafox No pressure though! ❤️

[arieldrawsstuff]

For those who were asking me for Ana x James art 🖤✨️ sharing here this one from that little fragment of ch. 5. In The Tides That Bind Us <3

[kindredinspirit]

Beautiful! I love how this captures one of my favourite scenes from TTTBU 😍

[frenchublog]

[kindredinspirit]

These are stunning. And that smile...

[doggydogchamp]

I've always wanted to maul cotbp norrington

[kindredinspirit]

I wholeheartedly agree with this sentiment.

[and-will-nice-hat]

Okay but hear me out: Uncle Norrington headcanons.

Norrington surviving At World’s End (wait that’s not a headcanon that’s cold hard fact hahahaha) and continuing to advance through the ranks of the Royal Navy so he can keep madmen like Beckett from taking power ever again

Norrington making sure that his fleet stays out of the way of the Dutchman so he never has to fire on Will

Norrington lying–but only by omission–about the existence of Shipwreck Cove

Norrington grudgingly accepting that Elizabeth isn’t going to stop being a pirate and choosing to turn a blind eye to her adventures and secretly support them rather than have her hanged

Norrington keeping an eye on little Henry Turner while Elizabeth is off playing Pirate King

Norrington and Elizabeth teaching Henry how to tie knots and handle sails and defend himself with a sword

Norrington reflecting on all that Weatherby Swann did for him, and becoming that mentor for someone else

Norrington being reluctant to go against Elizabeth’s wishes when Henry asks for help joining the Navy, but eventually agreeing because he knows how ruinous the curse has been and how happy Elizabeth would be if Will came home

Norrington finding the home and the love he’s always wanted, if not in the way he thought….

[kindredinspirit]

🥹