For Want of a Nail

Chapter 1

by

The Dala

The question foremost in Norrington's mind was when it would be polite for him to bring the subject to Elizabeth's attention. So far they had talked only of pleasant things while sitting out in the little garden behind the Turners' shop and home. They had sipped tea and eaten biscuits and it was all very pleasant and felt very English, despite the hot Caribbean sun beating down on the back of his neck. He had asked Elizabeth if she would prefer taking tea inside, mindful of her condition and also of their history, but she had chuckled and assured him that being pregnant give her the perfect excuse to avoid corsets altogether, then hastily apologized when his face turned bright red with embarrassment.

"The crib Will is making for the baby is really quite splendid," she was saying now. "I shall have him show it to you when he gets back from the market. He's carving Noah's ark on either side, with as many animals as he can fit." She smiled at him; she had a very pretty smile which he had loved for all the time he'd known her, but it also reminded him of losing her, so it made him uncomfortable. So, too, did the mention of her husband. He did not want to broach his subject with the both of them present; it would be too much like being outnumbered.

Now, he supposed, was as good a time as any. There was really no kind of segue possible, so he determined to just drop the cannonball.

"I trust you've heard about the Black Pearl being seen in these waters not one week ago?"

Her face didn't falter for an instant. "Oh, surely you don't take such rumors seriously, Commodore?" she said with a laugh. "I believe there are at least two sightings of the Pearl a day all throughout the Caribbean ports—three in Port Royal."

"It's no rumor, I assure you, Mrs. Turner," he said stiffly. "I gave chase to her myself."

Elizabeth made a non-committal sound, her eyes fixed on his, seemingly innocuous. Norrington knew better.

"We suspect that it ventured into Port Royal to deposit a certain Captain Jack Sparrow." She raised her eyebrows. "You have not seen him, nor heard word of him?"

"Certainly not," Elizabeth replied with wide, innocent eyes. "Of course you would be the first to hear it if we had, Gabriel."

He disliked hearing his first name on her lips; it wasn't any more proper than his calling her Elizabeth now that she was a married woman, and expecting to boot.

"Hmmm," he said, "even though you are friends with Captain Sparrow?"

"Friend or no," Elizabeth said, pretending to be offended, "we know our duty to the crown."

That was simply too much. "Mrs. Turner," he said, leaning forward over the table, "I am well aware that you and your husband know Sparrow's whereabouts. My men are familiar with the bars his crew frequents. I'm shocked that you would attempt to convince me otherwise. I could have William in irons for this!"

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Gabriel, there's no need to be so dramatic. Yes, we do know where he is."

Norrington was surprised that she had conceded so easily. He had expected her to lead him down a few more false turns before she admitted the truth.

"You must turn him in," he said. "This isn't like the last time—I cannot allow Jack Sparrow to escape a second time."

"Technically, it would be the third time," Elizabeth pointed out. "Actually, the fourth, since he sneaked into the wedding without your notice."

Suddenly he was very glad he had not married the girl, beautiful and well-born though she was. "Where is Jack Sparrow hiding, Mrs. Turner?"

"He's very ill," she replied calmly. "He is here because his crew was so worried that they felt he needed care on land. He is in no condition to sit on his arse in your drafty jail—" Norrington dropped his cup onto his saucer in shock, splattering himself with drops of fine tea. "—and I am asking you to show the mercy that is the chief basis of my respect for you."

He said nothing. She was looking at him earnestly now, all pretenses dropped; she reached over to clasp his hand. Beneath her straw hat he could see the worry in her eyes.

"Please, Gabriel." Her voice had dropped low. "I know I have no grounds to ask you for anything, but... I'm asking you to spare him. If you put him in prison under normal circumstances, he would be a free man in less than twenty-four hours, and I guarantee you'd never learn exactly how. But if you do so now, he could be dead in half that time."

He didn't want to believe her—it could so easily be a ruse. But just as he had known she was lying before, he knew now that she was telling the truth. For several minutes he hesitated, saying nothing, refusing to respond to the pressure she was exerting on his hand.

Finally he dropped his gaze and said quietly, "All right."

At that moment Will Turner stepped into the garden, a large paper-covered loaf of bread in one arm. Norrington snatched his hand away from Elizabeth as she stood up to greet her husband with a kiss on the cheek. Will folded her in his free arm, but his eyes were hard and fixed on Norrington.

"Good of you to visit, Commodore," Will said in a stilted voice. He was not nearly as adept at falsehood as his wife. Elizabeth glanced at Norrington; she knew it too.

"Will," she said softly, "he knows about Jack. Except that he's here, just upstairs," she added with a nod in Norrington's direction. That was a surprise; a bold move even for the infamous Turners, hiding a pirate in their own quarters.

"What?" Will was trying to appear innocent. "What about Jack? We haven't seen him or talked to him in months. We don't have any idea where the Black Pearl might be." It sounded like a routine he'd rehearsed.

Elizabeth made a tsk noise. "I told you, Will, he knows."

He glared at her and said, "Will you excuse us for a moment, Commodore?" They ducked inside the smithy.

Will was clenching the bread so hard that it was beginning to crumble. Elizabeth took it from him and laid it atop an anvil. Diego, the donkey, looked up at them hopefully. She tossed him a few crumbs as Will paced the back doorway of the forge.

"I can't believe you told him!"

"He knew before I told him, love. And I explained about his illness."

Will threw his hands up in exasperation. "All the easier for him to haul Jack away!"

"Stop it." She grabbed him by the hand as he came striding past her. "Gabriel is a good man, and you know it. He promised he wouldn't imprison Jack."

Scowling, Will reluctantly accepted her arms around his neck. "And you believe him."

"Yes. We can't keep Jack here with us, Will, you know that. Norrington will be able to find somewhere else to hide him. And this is the safest he could possibly be—if the Commodore isn't looking for him, no one else will be."

"True," he conceded grumpily.

Elizabeth snickered. "William Turner, I do believe you're jealous. Are you jealous?"

"No," he protested, then admitted, "well, maybe a little. I think perhaps I always will be. He could have given you so much—"

"Ah," she said, kissing him lightly, "but look at all that you have given me." She placed his hand on her belly and watched as a smile spread over his face.

~~~

Will and Elizabeth returned, his arm protectively around her waist. His eyes as he met Norrington's were no longer hostile, but neither were they particularly friendly. It saddened Norrington; he thought that they might have been good friends, if things had not turned out quite the way they turned out. He suspected Will felt the same.

"I have a proposition for you," he blurted out. They looked at him expectantly and he took a deep breath, wondering if he was finally going mad in this fetid climate. Nothing other than madness would prompt what he was about to say.

"Let me take over care of Jack Sparrow."

They both began to protest, but Norrington raised a hand, and reluctantly they let him speak.

"You both have much on your minds—I know that you have an extensive list of commissions, Mr. Turner, and there is your coming child to think of. It isn't fair to burden you with care of an invalid as well, especially when you are not sure of the nature of his illness and what effect it could have on either of you. I have a great deal of free time and I used to spend my summers with an uncle who was a country doctor, so I have a rudimentary medical knowledge. If Sparrow is ensconced at my home, I won't have to turn a blind eye to whomever is bound to see him, should you attempt to conceal him elsewhere. This is why you decided to tell me in the first place, was it not?" Elizabeth nodded, looking as though she was considering his offer.

"Therefore, I am clearly your best option if you want to keep him safe and alive. And," he added, "if you don't agree I could always turn you in as conspirators and lock Sparrow in a cell anyway."

Will blinked.

Elizabeth pursed her lips. "Perhaps it isn't the ideal solution..."

"But it seems it'll have to do," he finished for her, after they shared a long, measured look.

It had been easier than he'd thought. The notion of keeping Sparrow under his control while he was incapacitated by illness had been the first to enter Norrington's mind when Elizabeth had admitted to hiding him. He would be able to keep Sparrow out of any mischief in Port Royal—he could not imagine the man ever being so sick that he would not be able to stir up trouble—and when he recovered, well, frankly the whole deal would have to be renegotiated. Until then, Norrington would have Sparrow right under his nose, and as infuriating a prospect as that seemed, he knew that the advantages far outweighed the disadvantages.

"We'll take you to him," Will said. Norrington followed the two of them inside.

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