(no subject)

[scourgeofpiracy]

He's up early, as he always is, getting ready for another day's work on the Pearl. And he's trying not to think about how close the repairs are to complete, and what happens when it's all done.

He's about ten seconds from leaving when the knock comes at the door.

Comments

[blue_eyed_lord]

The cheerful voice of a friend greets him when he opens the door. "I come bearing gifts," Aphelise smiles.

[scourgeofpiracy.livejournal.com]

"Do you, now?" he asks, stepping back with an interested look.

[blue_eyed_lord]

"I do, indeed." His hands, it must be said, are full. Two large bottles dangling from between the fingers of each hand is a feat.

"You've been kind of... down lately, I've noticed, and I proudly bear the friend's responsibility of cheering you up again." He smiles the smile of a concerned friend who is determined to set things to rights. "Here," he holds out two of the bottles for Norrington to take one. "They're too good to drink alone."

[scourgeofpiracy.livejournal.com]

"It's a little early in the morning", he says mildly, but he's already reaching for the offered bottle.

[blue_eyed_lord]

"I didn't really know when you'd be around. Sometimes people here can go weeks without seeing someone who lives just down the hall." Aphelise steps in to set the future bottles down on a small table, leaving one in his hands for now.

[scourgeofpiracy.livejournal.com]

"...well, I suppose now is as good a time as ever. Though we'll have to stick to a quick drink - I'm expected elsewhere."

[blue_eyed_lord]

"To help finish the Pearl, right?" Aphelise says as they sit in their accustomed armchairs. It isn't as if this is his first visit, after all.

"You have all been coming along wonderfully, with that. She looks almost as good as new, now."

[scourgeofpiracy.livejournal.com]

There's a moment's pause while Norrington pours the drinks, face coincidentally invisible. He's smiling when he looks up, though.

"Yes, indeed. She's already seaworthy."

If she ever sees an ocean again.

[blue_eyed_lord]

"It'd be a shame if her captain and she don't find a way back, now, after all that work to repair her."

Aphelise lifts his glass when its poured, "We need something appropriate to drink to..."

"Ah. To finding a door."

[scourgeofpiracy.livejournal.com]

"To finding a door", he echoes, lifting his glass and drinking deep.

As is the way of these things, one quick drink turns into... many.

[blue_eyed_lord]

With good drink and good company, how could it not?

Aphelise runs a finger along the rim of his glass, reflectively. "No, I totally agree with you there. It was a bold move, and the right one to make. You had already devoted so many years to the cause, no one deserved it more."

[scourgeofpiracy.livejournal.com]

"It was the only way", Norrington says flatly, well in his cups but voice still reasonably clear. "If I was ever to take back my life."

[blue_eyed_lord]

"Your life would be yours again, if not for being stuck here." He sighs. "That's how it goes, sometimes, though. Not much we can do about it. We just wait for the door."

He lifts their current bottle, showing how little is left. "Want to kill it off?"

[pirate_jack]

It shouldn't have taken this long for Wellard to have found Norrington.

Not unless he got distracted along the way, of course, but Jack's fairly certain that's not the case -- the lad's far too conscientious about what he sees as his duty to do otherwise.

When the fickle "Scottish" weather went from fair to foul, Jack seized the opportune moment and dismissed his helpful crew for the day. He'd waited a little longer, but in the end it's not long after the last of them have left that Jack himself comes striding over the shore and into the bar, up the stairs and down the hallway towards room 97.

"We'll just see about all this," he mutters, as he heads for Norrington's room, hands half-outstretched for balance as he rounds the corner into the hallway. "'S not right-- it's decidedly odd--"

Swaying, Jack jerks to a halt, staring at the fallen figure of Henry Wellard.

"Bugger."

Swearing under his breath, Jack Sparrow leaps forward and drops to one knee beside the younger man.

"Lad, can you hear me?"

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

His head hurts. That is the first thing Wellard is conscious of, even as everything else is a puzzled jumble in his mind. He winces, opening his eyes and trying to reach up to feel his head.

There is a surprised, confused look given to Jack.

"Sir? Did I fall?"

[pirate_jack]

"Looks like," he says dryly, but sharp black eyes have spotted the bloody dirk lying on the floor at Wellard's side, near to hand. "Question is what you stumbled over the first place what sent you sprawling, savvy?"

He's already looking around as he speaks, and as he turns his head Jack sees the open door and Norrington lying on the floor of his room, amid glittering shards of shattered glass. The scent of alcohol and blood hangs heavy in the air.

"Lie still a moment, son." Jack puts one hand on his shoulder, reinforcing his order. "Don't try to get up just yet. Let me have a look 'round."

Jack palms the dirk as he stands, and stuffs it inside his leather vest as he turns away from Wellard and crosses the floor to Norrington.

"Damnation." He drops to a crouch beside the other man, looking in alarm at the spreading crimson stain. "What the hell happened to you, Jim?"

Moving quickly, Jack pulls Norrington's coat open and then the torn shirt as well, and his look is suddenly grim as he takes in the deep slash.

"Not good-- not good at all." Hastily, Jack rips the shirt further and wads the cloth up, pressing it down over the wound.

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

Wellard starts to nod-

And that turns out to not be a good idea. With a wince, he closes his eyes, hands to his head.

"Stumbled over what?" He mutters. "Where are we?"

[pirate_jack]

"You're in the bar, son, upstairs," Jack calls. "Seems you've tripped your way into a bit of trouble -- don't you worry, we'll see it sorted out. Just sit still--"

He leaves Norrington on the floor and dashes to the bed, pulling a sheet from it and then returning quickly. Jack crouches down once more, tearing the sheet into strips as he mutters,

"Hang on, mate. Don't even think about doing anything else, d'you hear me? Hang on, we'll get you some more better help as soon as you're patched up a bit."

As he talks he's pulling a wide strip around Norrington's body. Jack layers a folded bundle from the torn sheet over the slash and presses down, then ties it firmly in place with more torn pieces.

"That should hold you for a few minutes until I can get a sawbones up here. Dammit, man--"

Beaded braids clatter as Jack throws a quick look around the room, then stands and hurries back to Wellard.

"Can you stand, son? We've got to get you out of here."

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

"-I think?" Wellard glances to Jack, frowning faintly. He starts moving unsteadily to get to his feet, until Jack puts an arm around him for support.

Even then, the hallway seems to still be swaying- but at least with his head hurting this much, the effects could not be from alcohol. Or laudanum.

Wellard takes a deep breath, as they both start down the hallway. "I fell, you said? Did I? I don't recall- what happened?"

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary Lennox doesn't often wander around hallways on her own - she's got enough to do do on the first floor, and she's had enough mishaps on the higher levels to stay generally away from them.

It's just Wellard's luck that Mary's hunting Martha, today. And, therefore, heading along the hallway in the opposite direction at exactly the right time to come face to face with Wellard and Jack, hobbling towards the stairs.

Her eyes grow wide in her thin face, and her glare at Jack is sharp and accusing.

[pirate_jack]

He, in turn, meets her glare with a quick, wild grin.

"Ah. Miss Lennox. Just the lass I was hoping to see."

Black eyes are glittering with something near-manic, but he sounds just as he always does.

"Don't suppose you know of any doctors around this bar, now do you?"

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

"Yes." Still glaring.

Somehow, the simple syllable comes out sounding like an accusation of the most tremendously horrible deeds that Mary can imagine.


"Good doctors, even."

[politestpirate.livejournal.com]

"Any of them here's better than Dr Clive." Wellard mutters, looking up at Mary.

"I just fell. I think? That's what Jack said-" He frowns, closing his eyes and reaching up to gingerly touch the back of his head.

"I'm alright."

[pirate_jack]

"Just an accident, son," Jack assures him. "You're going to be fine."

To Mary, he adds,

"Good. Run and find one, savvy? Run fast. Bring him to room ninety-seven, down that way. Someone else involved in the accident's still down there and needs help -- and that right sharp, now."

He gestures with one hand, pointing back over his head and down the corridor, then pins her with a glittering gaze.

"And lass? Might be best if you didn't go mentioning that you saw the lad here at all, savvy? The sawbones might want to go looking him over, and there's no need for that sort of poking and prodding. No need at all."

[mistressmaryquitecontrary]

Mary stares at him, in utter disbelief.

"Yes there is!" she says, in the piercing, emphatic voice of a thoroughly furious (and slightly frightened) little girl.


"He is not well. He ought to see a doctor - he cannot even walk!"

It is quite clear that Mary could care less about whoever is in room 97 - at least, until she's actually told he's dying.

"You are only afraid - likely you only do not want to get caught," she adds, scornfully.