༺ T H E C E R E M O N Y ༻
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The Commodore's ceremony was quite the spectacle. Every family of prestigious standing seemed to be there. They all wore their best and mingled while waiting for the proceedings to commence. It overwhelmed Clara, she hadn't a clue as to what she should be doing - she was a maid, not a lady. However, such a spectacle did not stop her, and, instead, she forced herself to have a good time, after all, it was rare for such an occasion to happen.
Clara stood next to her friend, watching as the sailors filed in rows. Just behind them, an older lady was talking to someone about the latest gossip. Clara reeled in the temptation to turn about and tell the woman off for being rude but she knew it was not her place.
The blonde felt an arm wrap around hers and she glanced at Elizabeth. She was pale, swaying back and forth as she fanned herself. The sun was becoming hotter by the minute and the heavy material of their dresses weighed them down. Clara saw Elizabeth struggle for air, she untangled their arms and wrapped one around her friend's waist, the other gripping her empty hand.
"Elizabeth, what's wrong?"
The girl shook her head. "Nothing, just the heat, tis all."
Clara did not fully believe what she said, but she let it go as everyone was now hushed and watching the ceremony. The drums beat louder, keeping a steady rhythm, as the infantry took their places with practised precision. They rose their muskets high in solute as Norrington came from around a bend in the fort.
His steps were short and pinpoint, his back stiff and his gaze unwavering. The new blue uniform that was tailored to him was orderly, just how he liked everything to be. Norrington's firm line of sight quivered ever the slightest when he noticed Elizabeth and Clara.
The girls were clutching each other, Elizabeth looking ill. He almost paused in his steps but Clara waved to him and mouthed a 'hello'. He continued on, subtly smirking at her. It was an act only she knew of, as it was always difficult to tell when he was smiling.
Clara grinned to herself, ducking her head so no one else saw. When she looked back up again, Norrington had reached Governor Swann and had taken Will's newly crafted sword from its sheath. He flourished it with ease, showing his skill with an expert hand. The Commodore finally accepted the gift with a twirl, tying the scabbard to his belt. Light applause filled the open space as the Governor and Commodore bowed to the other than to the crowd.
Clara glanced toward the sun. She was becoming to feel how Elizabeth looked. She wished she had a fan as well, but her hand would have to suffice. Elizabeth was barely getting air, discreetly adjusting the stays beneath her dress. Clara knew the humid air was not helping their case and decided to fix her friend's stays once they were released.
The naval soldiers filed back from whence they came, allowing the aristocratic families to leave for the party that was to follow.
Clara led Elizabeth away from the crowd, hiding behind a large collum. "Turn around," she whispered to her friend. Elizabeth did not ask and let her maid undo her dress. Clara loosened the stays and Elizabeth finally took a deep enough breath that the colour was slowly returning.
"I am so sorry, miss. Why hadn't you told me they were too tight?"
"I did not want to spoil your mood."
"You passing out would have spoiled my mood, miss. However, next time, I will ask."
Elizabeth smiled. "Thank you, Clara, you are a wonderful friend. And while we are here, let us drop the formalities."
"Very well, Elizabeth. Would you mind introducing me?"
Elizabeth took Clara's arm, the two joining the others. "I will admit I do not know most of these people, and those I do are not ones I wish for you to meet." Clara glanced at her, a brow raised. "Do not take it to heart, there are many fowl creatures here, my dear Clara, I wish for you to enjoy yourself, that is all."
"Of course." From the corner of her eye, Clara saw Governor Swann beckon for his daughter. "I believe your father wants a word with you."
"You can join us if you wish."
The blonde took Elizabeth's hands in hers. "Thank you, though I think it will be better if I stay over here. I shall make my acquaintance, and once you're done we can reconvene."
"Are you sure you will be alright?"
"Yes, now go."
"Here." From her bodice, Elizabeth pulled out a golden medallion. It was strung on a long, thin chain, which glinted in the light. "This has got me through my voyage from England, I hope it serves as a comfort to you as well." The woman grabbed Clara's hand and placed the medallion in it, folding her figures over it.
"Thank you, Elizabeth." The young woman watched Elizabeth take her leave before stuffing the item into her pocket. She glanced around the fort, unknown faces followed her every movement, and whenever she met an eye, she would smile, but in return, would get a glare.
She continued to pace about, seeing if there were any friendly faces but they seemed to be in short supply that day. As Clara passed a group of young women, they eyed her, snickering. Their tone of voice was unpleasant and they things they whispered were worse.
"She was with the Governor's daughter. She works in his household."
"What is a maid like her doing here?"
"Shame to see such a wonderful dress put to waste for a girl like that."
"She obviously stole it."
"I think she's a whore. Look at the way she's promenading about like she owns the place."
"Well, if anything's for certain: it's that she does not belong here."
The heat seemed to worsen and her bodice grew tighter. Air was in short supply and the world started to spin. As discreetly as possible, she moved away from the group, hiding behind another pillar. She pressed herself against the stone, the coolness of it grounding her. But that did not stop her from hyperventilating. Clara pressed a hand against her chest, thinking the pressure would soothe her, yet, nothing changed. A hand went into her pocket, groping for the medallion. Her fingers ran over the cold surface and closed her eyes just before tears could flow. Those girls were right - she doesn't belong here, not when a few harsh words make her so emotional.
Something touched her shoulder and she jumped, quickly whipping away her tears. She didn't look up to see who, just by looking at the ground she knew it was a man. "I'm fine, I was just leaving." She turned to go but was held back by a strong hand on her arm. "Sir," she huffed. "Please let me go."
"I've known you long enough to understand that you are not fine, Clara." The man's voice was deep and robust, soothing and well-known, indeed.
Clara looked over her shoulder to find James Norrington was the one to have stopped her. It surprised only the slightest.
Norrington pulled her around, his hands keeping her steady as they rested on her shoulders. "What's wrong?"
When Clara met his bright blue eyes, she froze. Her body did not know how to breathe and she could not form a sentence. She parted her lips wishing to say something, but nothing came from her. Finally, she got her breathing under enough control to whisper one thing: "James."
That was when she allowed herself to break down. The tears flowed rapidly down her cheeks and she shook like a vase in a thunderstorm. She crushed herself against the Commodore, hugging him as if he were her lifeline.
"Oh my . . . It is alright, Clara. You will be alright." The girl did not answer nor did her crying relent. Norrington frowned. It was rare for Clara to cry, much less in a public setting. He gently peeled her off him and raised her chin, so she would look him in the eye. "Clara, please look at me." When she did, he asked: "Tell me what happened."
"I don't belong here."
"What?"
Clara pried herself away. "Look around you, James, I'm not like everyone else here. Those girls were right - I'm just a silly maid in the Governor's household with no family, no prospects, nothing. That is what I have and that is what I am: nothing."
"Now, wait a minute, miss Garner, I can assure you that that is simply not the truth. Come, I have something to show you."
Norrington led her over to the ledge where a large bell was hung that overlooked the harbour. He took her to the edge, holding her hand as he helped her up the small steps. He tilted his head to the ocean. "What do you see, miss Garner?"
Clara took in a shaky breath. "The sea."
"To the common man, he would see nothing. But to a sailor with a trained eye, he would see the rocks over there by the cliffside and the seagulls flying overhead. However, there is one other thing he would see. Do you know what that is, miss Garner?"
Clara shook her head.
Norrington point straight ahead and the girl squinted, trying to find what it was that he saw.
"He would see the horizon. Most men don't think about what comes after the horizon, most would assume that there is nothing. Yet, I know that just over it is many things: adventure, new possibilities, and discoveries waiting to be made. Now, that doesn't sound like nothing, does it, Clara?"
The young woman smiled. "No, it does not."
Norrington turned back to Clara, whipping her tears.
Clara laughed ruefully. "You have a way with words, James, you always have. I suppose a 'congratulations' is in order."
"There is no need, I am just glad that Governor Swann accepted my proposal."
"Your proposal?"
Norrington glanced down and then up once he had folded his hands behind his back. "I know how hard and tiring your work is, I figured you needed a day for yourself and that your birthday was coming up. I asked for my ceremony to take place on the 10th of this month and that the Governor would give you the day off. It seems he agreed to it." James look her up and down. "And that you got my gift."
Clara looked down to where his gaze was. She took a section of her skirt and ran a figure over it. "You got me this?"
"Yes, I hope the colour is to your liking."
"It's more than to my liking, James! Thank you so much!"
"You are welcome, dear Clara." Norrington looked back out towards the sea, fiddling slightly and causing Clara to peak her interest. Now it was her turn to ask if he was alright.
"Is something bothering you, James?"
He continued to stare, ignoring what his friend had asked. He bit the inside of his cheek and pulled at the cuffs of his jacket. "Clara . . .?"
"Yes?"
"I haven't a clue on how to go about asking this, but the reason why I found you hiding behind that wall earlier was that I was purposefully searching for you. I was looking for you because I have to ask." Norrington paused, collecting himself before continuing. "Will you marry me?"
"What?" muttered Clara, not sure she heard him correctly.
Norrington took her hand in his, rubbing his thumbs over it. "Clara Garner, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"
"But I'm - but Elizabeth -"
"What about Miss Swann?"
"I thought you would propose to her. The Governor said you fancied her."
"Clara, would you like to know why I called upon the Governor so many times?" He cupped her face in his warm hand, making her look at him. The love and adoration that pooled from his eyes made her breath hitch and her heart race. "I was there because I wanted to see you. Sometimes it was because I truly needed to speak to Governor Swann, but most times I was there for you. Not Miss Swann. You are intoxicating and I wish to spend every waking hour with you. If you will have me."
Clara suddenly became dizzy once more and all air left her body. She stumbled back, hyperventilating. The sun was too hot now and burning her pale skin, not used to such intensity. She closed her eyes but did not help the rocking. She heard James calling for her but it was too late, she stepped in the wrong direction and fell over the side of the fort.
She was surprised to hear James' yells over her own as fell into the water, the impact hurt her back and knocked her out. The last thing she saw was her almost-fiance's terrified face.
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