Love On The Waves

II. An Accord

James Norrington, did in fact, return that evening. He walked into the tavern and ordered some rum, and Cloè ended up serving it to him. He looked much worst under the bar lighting than he had earlier that day.

"Nice to see you again," she greeted with a small smile, setting the bottle on the table in front of him. He sat in the corner, alone and as closed off from others as possible.

"Thank you," he murmured, taking a swig.

"I don't think I got your name," She realized.

"James." Once again, she was filled with curiosity at how a Navy man could drop so low. He was much younger than the retired officers she occasionally saw, the ones who used to complain about how they felt so misplaced by not being on the sea. He was so somber and distant, not like the men who frequented the island. She offered him another smile before returning back to the counter, grabbing pint glasses for a table of beers.

"Aah, if it ain't Old Buck's little girl. How ye been child?" Cloè stifled a laugh at the names, she was by no means the same little girl that her father's pirate buddies had dropped money off to, but she supposed they were too drunk to care.

"Just fine, thank you. Still terrorizing patrolled waters?" The largest man of the group let out a hearty laugh.

"Aye, if we weren't your father would haunt us and we'd end up a sleepless crew." At this she laughed, she knew little of her father other than his wealth and loyal crew. Wanted by almost every navy that patrolled Atlantic waters, and it seemed his crew was the same.

"And how be that mother of yours? Still the same firy French woman she was? Used to toss coconuts at us if we stayed too long." Jaqueline wasn't noble by any means, but broke some status quo by having relations with a pirate. Once she got pregnant, Old Buck didn't come around as often, but sent some of his pillaged wealth. She saved up and bought the building that is now the tavern, where she would raise her daughter.

"Fairing betta than you," Cloè turned to face her mother, whose voice was accented heavily by her native French with the drawl many Tortuga dwellers came to have. The large man rose and pressed a kiss on both of her mother's cheeks, and Cloè took that as her time to leave, letting her mother reminisce over Old Buck.

Cloe was dreadfully tired by the end of the night. She wanted to sleep, the tavern had long since closed, but there were drunks passed out near the entrance. She pushed their limbs out of the doorway before shutting it with a slight creak.

She made her way back over to Norrington, who was well on his way to become a drunkard himself, unbeknownst to her.

"I can show you to your room now, but if you can't pay, you'll need to work in here to earn your keep," her voice was firm and steady, despite the temptation just go to sleep right then.

"Do we have an accord?" Cloè extended her hand, hoping it wasn't too strange to do, with her being a woman. His hand engulfed hers for a moment before pulling away.

"Brilliant."