The scorching reach of the sun may have changed per island, but if there was one abiding commodity that never altered, it was the soirees. It didn't matter whether the admiral found himself within the tropical air of Port Royal or amidst the brisk lands of Scotland, they were always the same. An embellished event hosted by another stakeholder or royal general in an attempt to flaunt their excess to those within their social standing. Still, it wasn't all bad. Throughout the hundreds of functions he had attended, James did find his own quiet amusement. Never in the dancing, of course, but more so in the music and the occasional, foreign delicacy being served. However, all in all, he found such events to be rather pointless. Trifling, at times, especially when other matters rested upon his plate.
Still, all things considered, while taking his usual place as a decorated wallflower, even he had to admit that this particular soiree hosted by the Trevor Family was one for the books. Of course, he would appreciate not being bombarded with such repetitive, idle chatter regarding his sudden dismissal concerning his rank, and the even more sudden move, but it could be a lot worse.
His hawkish gaze continued to scan the horizon's of the party from his wall when he noticed a golden figure amidst the crowd. The son of the Trevor's, he assumed. Oh, yes, he had met many a gentlemen like him even back in the West Indies. A stately aristrocrat bred for this lavished life.-- The admiral's gaze quickly drew back to the dancing guests when he noticed the gentleman return his wandering stare.
The deepened purr of James's soft and velvet laughter poured into Vic's throat as their lips pressed upon the other, basked in their sacred hold. Strong arms holding the other closer still.-- It wasn't until irksome urge to breathe got in their way that James allowed himself to indulge in the golden image before him. The memories of a thousand tropical sunsets could not compare to Vic's rosy light.
It surprised him. All of it. The hum of his own laughter. The softness of his own touch. The desire to feel his lover's lips upon his own. James couldn't remember a time he felt this unabashedly happy. He feared it as much as he reveled in it. Would it be like this forever, he thought. Could it?
"What? Unkempt?" the officer teased in return, his dimpled smile continuing to pull upon his cheeks as he sunk deeper still into the tingling sensation of Vic's fingers combing through his undressed locks.
SEND A WORD AND I WILL WRITE A DRABBLE ABOUT OUR MUSES
II @vxctorx
The element of surprise had never been an option that Commodore Norrington liked to entertain, however, that evening something stirred in him. A jocund defiance against his own consistent nature dressed in the guise of quietly endearing gallantry.-- Since he had found himself spending countless days alongside the desired company of Victor Trevor, James had found himself changed. Emboldened, perhaps?
All he knew was that just the mere thought of Victor tempted his very being to sly on the err of want rather than practically; and that evening, he wanted to see Victor. To be amidst his presence, even amongst a throng of soiree attendees. To listen to the velvet words sculpted by His golden tongue, before reveling in sharing his own chatter in a rare circumstance of loquaciousness. Either way, the officer found himself craving for the companionship of the gentleman. Surely an unexpected visit couldn't hurt.
Regret, unfortunately, remained James's constant companion once more.-- He felt as if he played himself the fool. An absolute fool.
The flourish of a final twirl, followed by a swan-like curtsey from the line of dancers as the strings decadent melody fluttered to a close.
James's sable gaze entranced itself upon the couple from the margins of the soiree. How many dances had the two engaged in? He saw the way she looked at him; her petalled smile, a gentle constellation of pearls, perfectly framed by her flowing locks of gold. Its golden shade matching... No... Complimenting His own. The woman's rouge lips parted as she uttered some unknown, dulcet words. Her dazzling eyes starry with delight as she wallowed upon the golden vision before her.-- Was Victor basking in the delicate curves of her silken beauty with just as much notice? Was he showering her with more than a cordial smile? The sort of untutored smile that brimmed with guiltless sincerity that James had grown endeared to?
Victor's partner uttered another string of sweetened words, before the gentleman's lips laced the back of her hand with a kiss.
His shoulders squeezed into a tightened knot. All at once, the officer didn't feel like a companion nor a guest, but instead an intruder. Not an intruder within the gaudy walls of the Trevor estate per se, but an intruder regarding the matters of Victor's heart.-- The coils of envy enraptured round his ribs. Foolish, foolish man.
Had the snakeheads of envy been targeted at the seemingly intimate regard Victor had shown to his newfound companion? Perhaps. The idea of the gentleman offering his affections for another did sting more than James would ever admit, however, his jealousy stemmed from something more.
The true bite of it all came from the ineffable laws of nature. How, no matter what he did, nor how much he desired Victor's companionship, the truth of the matter was that there would be no place for such absurd fantasies. In the end, Victor's place was not alongside his own, hands clasped into a loving hold, but instead with Her, or at least with a woman of equal rank.-- Who's to say that he had not read this all wrong and Victor had realized the depth of the officer's sentiments and had grown repulsed by James's closeness?
There was a hierarchy to the laws of nature. One that was unforgiving to those who stepped out of line.
What foolish naivety to entertain such sentiments. Foolish, foolish man. He should never have come. He should've known better than to step out of line. Know your place.
