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Prologue
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all related characters belong to Walt Disney, Gore, Jerry, Ted and Terry.
Rating: T for now.
Characters: Norrington and most of the entire cast
Pairings: Will/Elizabeth
The Chosen
Chapter 1: Changes
-
Governor Weatherby Swann enjoyed visiting his friends for breakfast. He never turned down an invitation, and even those whose homes or plantations were small still had very skilled chefs who prepared delicious meals and the conversations were always delightful. When Mr. Fredrick Carlisle had invited him to breakfast at eight thirty on a Friday morning he could not decline.
“You always have some of the finest coffee,” Swann said as a serving maid filled his cup with the rich and dark brew. He was not lying for the sake of being polite. Carlisle’s coffee plantation might be small with only ten slaves and few indentured servants, but they were skilled as the tendered to the coffee plants and harvested the beans.
“You’re words are always kind, governor,” Carlisle placed a cube of sugar into his cup. “I hope you would not think if it is rude if we wait for my daughter. She is still being dressed for the morning.”
“Not rude at all,” Swann set his cup down. “In fact it would be rude if we started without her.”
“She did sleep a little longer than usual,” Carlisle adjusted his wig before he stood up, catching the attention of his butler. “Harold could you request the dressing maids to put in a bit more haste with my daughter.”
“We shouldn’t rush the girl,” Swann held out his hands. He couldn’t remember the last time he had forced Elizabeth’s dressing maids to rush.
“She is keeping my guest from enjoying his breakfast.” Carlisle blinked. His thick spectacles made his round blue eyes appear large.
“Father?” Julia Carlisle appeared at the entrance of the dining hall. “I am sorry I am late. I had trouble sleeping last night.”
“You do not have to apologize my dear,” Swann stood up in respect to the young woman and took special care to not allow his gaze to linger on her left eye.
“Good morning, Governor Swann,” Julia grabbed the hems of her dress and curtsied before him.
“Good morning Miss Carlisle,” Swann nodded and waited until Harold had pushed Julia’s chair in before he reclaimed his seat. “I am sorry you had difficulty sleeping.”
“Thank you Governor,” Julia smiled briefly, exposing her uneven teeth. She glanced up at the serving maid as she neared with the pot of coffee. “Is it unfair of me to ask for tea instead of coffee. It would settle my nerves.”
“Your nightmare was that horrifying?” Swann asked as one of the servants placed a roll on his plate.
“It was terrible. Port Royal was burning. All the houses were on fire. The sky was filled with smoke.”
“You shouldn’t frighten our guest with talk of such dreams.”
“It is nothing to worry about,” Swann tried not to smile. The relation ship between the two reminded him of himself and Elizabeth.
“Father, I woke up and my hands were shaking,” Julia held up her cup so the serving maid could pour in tea.
Carlisle inhaled loudly and his eyes grew even wider, after what almost seemed like a minute he breathed again. “We will discuss your dream later.”
Julia nodded. “It would seem wise.”
“I can understand,” Swann smiled at the young woman. “My hands would have been shaking as well if I had such a dream.”
-
James Norrington could hear the voices of Groves and another officer talking as he returned to consciousness. He felt himself resting on his bed and he felt a damp cloth on his forehead. He slowly opened his eyes and waited until Groves and the other man, the ship’s doctor, was no longer blurred before he mumbled a greeting
“I told you he is coming around,” Groves said before he looked down at him. “You have been out for most of the day.”
“Most of the day?” James sat up and had to pause halfway. His vision blurred again and he had to rest his head on the pillow again.
“Easy,” Dr. Finster held out his hand. “You were consumed by quite a fever.” He removed the damp cloth from Norrington’s head
“A fever,” Norrington repeated. His mouth felt dry. “Then it was a dream.”
“If you are referring to last night’s occurrence then I am afraid to tell you that was real,” Groves said.
“Although you were the only one to be over come with a fever.” The doctor used a dry cloth to mop up Norrington’s brow.
“At least your dreams were well,” Groves smiled blissfully. “If I am not too forward, but did you dream of a goddess, or a princess, or mermaids?”
“You are being bold,” James stared at him. “I don’t believe I had any dreams.”
“All the men had similar dreams,” Groves said while both Norrington and the doctor stared at him.
“Captain Groves, if you please,” Norrington tried to ignore the itching sensation that developed on his backside. It was minor at first but it had grown as they spoke.
“Are you in any discomfort, Admiral?” Groves had noticed the way Norrington was shuffling in his bed.
“Only minor discomfort,” Norrington lied through his teeth. The itching was turning into a burning. “I am just trying to get my legs to move and I am thirsty. Captain Groves, could you get me a glass of water?”
“Water mixed with the juice from a few lemons and oranges is what you need,” the doctor said. “I have seen patients fight off illness much faster after they had tasted some citrus.”
“We shall return with your drink.” Groves stepped toward the doorway of Norrington’s bedchamber.
“Perhaps Dr. Finster could bring it to me,” Norrington was eager for both of them to leave. “Captain Groves. I want you to inform my first and second lieutenants we shall dine together in my cabin tonight.” A new thought had crossed his mind. What if he slept past the supper hour?
“Yes sir, Admiral,” the doctor said as he followed Groves outside the door.
James waited until the door closed before he rolled over and reached to scratch the offending itch. His hand and fingers froze when he felt a strange growth. He pulled his hand away and reached back to make certain he wasn’t feeling things. His fingers traced over the same hard lump of flesh as before.
The strange growth continued to plague him through the evening; James believed it was still growing. During his dinner with his officers he tried not to show his discomfort from the pain as he continued to sit. Instead he listened in to Groves explaining it would be best to return to Port Royal and resume their search for Captain Scar later.
During the nightly drills the back of his pants felt tight against the growth. Once again he chose to ignore it and focused on the discipline of his men, only pausing to brush his bangs out from against his eyes. He would excuse himself to brush back his hair and adjust his wig later. He was in the middle of his assignment.
The sound of cloth ripping caused him to stop ignoring the problem. With wide eyes he sought out Groves. “Captain Groves. I need to excuse myself for a minute.”
“I will continue until you return,” Groves most likely thought James was excusing himself to fix his hair.
“Thank you,” James quickly returned to his cabin as discreetly as possible without bringing any attention to his backside. Once he had closed the door he stared across the room at the mirror. It wasn’t just a few hairs that had gotten loose. His hair was almost the same disheveled state as it was when he was a former commodore, stumbling around drunk in Tortuga.
“The wind was not that bad,” James removed his wig. His hair was loose and flowing, and his hair had gown longer, past his shoulders, but it was no wear near the state it was in Tortuga. Instead of tangled and oily it was well groomed and lustrous. It felt softer than usual, almost like silk and when he brought a few strands closer to his nose he could smell the mixed aroma of vanilla, and gardenias.
A strange tickling itch brought his focus back to the growth. He turned around and to his horror he saw the growth had grown longer and tore through his trousers. He was growing a tail.
“What is happening?” He managed to ask between the shallow breaths that escaped his lungs. Now was not the time to panic. He was Admiral Norrington. He did not rise to such a rank by panicking. He couldn’t show anyone. No. He had to at least tell Groves.
“Have Captain Groves come to my cabin at once,” he ordered a soldier passing by before he closed the door. How was he going to confront Groves with his changes? The hair should be shown first and then the tail.
“Admiral?” Groves knocked first.
James swallowed the lump in his throat. “You may enter.”
“Well,” Groves’s eyes were drawn to James’s face when he entered. “I am certain many women in Port Royal would want to know what you use to wash your hair.”
“Yes,” James smiled weakly. Leave it to Groves to make some form of humor. “My hair was not like this a while ago.”
“No it wasn’t,” his captain nodded in agreement.
“Something else has happened to me,” James had to choose his words carefully. “It started after I woke from my fever. I noticed a growth and it has been growing.”
“You have an enlarging mole, or a wart?” Groves asked in concern.
“Worse,” James closed his eyes. “I’m growing a tail,” and before Groves could even ask another word he turned around. The tail was longer than before; already it was a foot and a half long.
“The light,” Groves said after several minutes of silence. “We receive beautiful dreams and you receive a fever and this.”
“I did not collapse along with you,” James replayed the events of the previous night in his head. “After everyone had fainted I turned around and there was this woman. She was breathtakingly beautiful and she had wings.”
“An angel?”
“That was what I thought and she told me I was chosen. Our hands touched and everything went dark. Then I woke up after breaking a fever.”
“You were chosen to grow a tail?”
“Apparently,” James laughed weakly and froze when he saw Groves staring at him intently. “What is it?”
“Your teeth.”
James turned back to the mirror and opened his mouth. His eyeteeth have grown longer and pointed. He pulled back his lower lip and to his somewhat assurance he saw that he did not have lower set of fangs.
“What is happening to me,” his voice shook as he clutched onto the table. His knuckles were almost as white as his fingernails. He stared at his fingers. His nails were the same length as before, but have turned the color of moonlight and were as glossy as his hair. “What else.” He examined his tongue and ran his fingers along his head to feel for bumps and growths. He felt nothing but when his fingers came in contact with his ears. They were normal in size and the ends were tipped in what felt like feathers. He pulled back his hair to see and he could see the short feathery fringe that was the same color as his hair.
“I think it has stopped growing,” Groves said.
James turned to stare at his tail. It had grown to a little over two feet. Its base started out as the same pale peach color as the rest of his skin but down the length it had changed to a rich golden color. The end was covered in a tuft of brown hair. It was only when James touched the tuft he noticed it was feathers and not fur.
“Can you,” Groves licked his lips. “Can you move it?”
“No,” he barely could feel it was there at all. He ran a finger against the skin and paused when he felt a down like substance. “It is like touching a foot that has fallen asleep. It can hardly feel my touch at all.”
“Maybe in time.”
“Yes, except I don’t want to move it, or have it feel.” He stared at his fingernails again. “I have no idea what has happened to me. I don’t even know what I am now.”
“Maybe the witch who brought you back to life knows.”
James’s eyes brightened. “I should have thought of her sooner. After we return to Port Royal you and I will take a smaller ship, no, a large boat and seek out this witch. We will ask the Turners to come with us since they know where she is and Mr. Murtogg and Mr. Mullroy as well.”
Groves nodded. “But until we reach Port Royal, what will we do about your condition.”
“Yes,” James ran his fingers through his hair. “I can tie this back, keep my ears hidden and place the end of the hair under my collar.” He stared down at his tail. “And we can keep this tail tied to my leg and I will put on a new pair of trousers.”
“I’d suggest not grinning, but it would be a pointless suggestion.”
“Of all the times to make a joke, Captain Groves, now is not one of them.”
“I am sorry,” Groves smirked.
“Very well. I want you to inform the men I will be there shortly.” He grabbed a comb and ran it through his hair.
-
Elizabeth Turner had formed the plan in her head even before Will had announced he was going to town to go drinking with some of his friends. Now that he was out of the house she had plenty of time to visit those who she intended to invite to her salon brunch. She would leave a message with the naval officers at the ports to inform both Captain Groves and Admiral Norrington they were also invited.
The Carlisle house was the first destination and as soon as she stepped out of the carriage she walked over to the garden patio where she knew she would find Julia.
Julia was seated in front of an easel, paintbrush in her hand. Elizabeth could tell by the fact Julia was wearing old gloves her friend was using oils and not watercolor. Julia never cared if her hands got dirty when she painted with watercolors. They were much easier to clean up than oils.
“Good afternoon Julia,” Elizabeth greeted her friend.
“Good afternoon Elizabeth,” Julia turned toward her right. She rarely turned to her left when someone spoke from behind. She wanted to be able to see them, she had explained.
“I have come to give you-“ the words she had rehearsed in her mind had faded when she saw the warm vibrant colors on the canvas. “Oh Julia that is beautiful.” She studied the painting of what she could tell was a cottage and trees.
“It’s a place father told me about,” Julia set her paintbrush down. “A place outside of London. You were
about to ask me something?”
“I want to invite you to a Salon brunch I am having this Wednesday,” Elizabeth planned on inviting all her friends, both single and married. “I am inviting all my friends and Will’s friends. It will be like the salons they have in France.”
“I would be delighted,” Her smile faded. “Are you trying having the single men and women meet in the hopes we start courting each other?”
Julia saw through her plan. “No, I just want to show that I will not forget my friends, single and married, even though I am married and I want to see if I can organize this salon myself. Father was the one who organized everything in the past.”
“I see,” Julia said in a tone, Elizabeth wasn’t quite sure if she believed her or not. “I accept your invitation.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said.
“Will you join me for tea tomorrow. Maybe we could even ride horses together.”
“We haven’t road horses together in years,” Elizabeth brightened at the suggestion. “I would love to.”
-
A/N: In the 17th and 18th centuries Salons were a gathering where the attendees would read poetry and excerpts from stories, and discuss art, music and philosophy.
James’s tail was from an on discussion in the feedback forum of Gaia Online about what an Angelic tail would look like.
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all related characters belong to Walt Disney, Gore, Jerry, Ted and Terry.
Rating: T for now.
Characters: Norrington and most of the entire cast
Pairings: Will/Elizabeth
The Chosen
Chapter 1: Changes
-
Governor Weatherby Swann enjoyed visiting his friends for breakfast. He never turned down an invitation, and even those whose homes or plantations were small still had very skilled chefs who prepared delicious meals and the conversations were always delightful. When Mr. Fredrick Carlisle had invited him to breakfast at eight thirty on a Friday morning he could not decline.
“You always have some of the finest coffee,” Swann said as a serving maid filled his cup with the rich and dark brew. He was not lying for the sake of being polite. Carlisle’s coffee plantation might be small with only ten slaves and few indentured servants, but they were skilled as the tendered to the coffee plants and harvested the beans.
“You’re words are always kind, governor,” Carlisle placed a cube of sugar into his cup. “I hope you would not think if it is rude if we wait for my daughter. She is still being dressed for the morning.”
“Not rude at all,” Swann set his cup down. “In fact it would be rude if we started without her.”
“She did sleep a little longer than usual,” Carlisle adjusted his wig before he stood up, catching the attention of his butler. “Harold could you request the dressing maids to put in a bit more haste with my daughter.”
“We shouldn’t rush the girl,” Swann held out his hands. He couldn’t remember the last time he had forced Elizabeth’s dressing maids to rush.
“She is keeping my guest from enjoying his breakfast.” Carlisle blinked. His thick spectacles made his round blue eyes appear large.
“Father?” Julia Carlisle appeared at the entrance of the dining hall. “I am sorry I am late. I had trouble sleeping last night.”
“You do not have to apologize my dear,” Swann stood up in respect to the young woman and took special care to not allow his gaze to linger on her left eye.
“Good morning, Governor Swann,” Julia grabbed the hems of her dress and curtsied before him.
“Good morning Miss Carlisle,” Swann nodded and waited until Harold had pushed Julia’s chair in before he reclaimed his seat. “I am sorry you had difficulty sleeping.”
“Thank you Governor,” Julia smiled briefly, exposing her uneven teeth. She glanced up at the serving maid as she neared with the pot of coffee. “Is it unfair of me to ask for tea instead of coffee. It would settle my nerves.”
“Your nightmare was that horrifying?” Swann asked as one of the servants placed a roll on his plate.
“It was terrible. Port Royal was burning. All the houses were on fire. The sky was filled with smoke.”
“You shouldn’t frighten our guest with talk of such dreams.”
“It is nothing to worry about,” Swann tried not to smile. The relation ship between the two reminded him of himself and Elizabeth.
“Father, I woke up and my hands were shaking,” Julia held up her cup so the serving maid could pour in tea.
Carlisle inhaled loudly and his eyes grew even wider, after what almost seemed like a minute he breathed again. “We will discuss your dream later.”
Julia nodded. “It would seem wise.”
“I can understand,” Swann smiled at the young woman. “My hands would have been shaking as well if I had such a dream.”
-
James Norrington could hear the voices of Groves and another officer talking as he returned to consciousness. He felt himself resting on his bed and he felt a damp cloth on his forehead. He slowly opened his eyes and waited until Groves and the other man, the ship’s doctor, was no longer blurred before he mumbled a greeting
“I told you he is coming around,” Groves said before he looked down at him. “You have been out for most of the day.”
“Most of the day?” James sat up and had to pause halfway. His vision blurred again and he had to rest his head on the pillow again.
“Easy,” Dr. Finster held out his hand. “You were consumed by quite a fever.” He removed the damp cloth from Norrington’s head
“A fever,” Norrington repeated. His mouth felt dry. “Then it was a dream.”
“If you are referring to last night’s occurrence then I am afraid to tell you that was real,” Groves said.
“Although you were the only one to be over come with a fever.” The doctor used a dry cloth to mop up Norrington’s brow.
“At least your dreams were well,” Groves smiled blissfully. “If I am not too forward, but did you dream of a goddess, or a princess, or mermaids?”
“You are being bold,” James stared at him. “I don’t believe I had any dreams.”
“All the men had similar dreams,” Groves said while both Norrington and the doctor stared at him.
“Captain Groves, if you please,” Norrington tried to ignore the itching sensation that developed on his backside. It was minor at first but it had grown as they spoke.
“Are you in any discomfort, Admiral?” Groves had noticed the way Norrington was shuffling in his bed.
“Only minor discomfort,” Norrington lied through his teeth. The itching was turning into a burning. “I am just trying to get my legs to move and I am thirsty. Captain Groves, could you get me a glass of water?”
“Water mixed with the juice from a few lemons and oranges is what you need,” the doctor said. “I have seen patients fight off illness much faster after they had tasted some citrus.”
“We shall return with your drink.” Groves stepped toward the doorway of Norrington’s bedchamber.
“Perhaps Dr. Finster could bring it to me,” Norrington was eager for both of them to leave. “Captain Groves. I want you to inform my first and second lieutenants we shall dine together in my cabin tonight.” A new thought had crossed his mind. What if he slept past the supper hour?
“Yes sir, Admiral,” the doctor said as he followed Groves outside the door.
James waited until the door closed before he rolled over and reached to scratch the offending itch. His hand and fingers froze when he felt a strange growth. He pulled his hand away and reached back to make certain he wasn’t feeling things. His fingers traced over the same hard lump of flesh as before.
The strange growth continued to plague him through the evening; James believed it was still growing. During his dinner with his officers he tried not to show his discomfort from the pain as he continued to sit. Instead he listened in to Groves explaining it would be best to return to Port Royal and resume their search for Captain Scar later.
During the nightly drills the back of his pants felt tight against the growth. Once again he chose to ignore it and focused on the discipline of his men, only pausing to brush his bangs out from against his eyes. He would excuse himself to brush back his hair and adjust his wig later. He was in the middle of his assignment.
The sound of cloth ripping caused him to stop ignoring the problem. With wide eyes he sought out Groves. “Captain Groves. I need to excuse myself for a minute.”
“I will continue until you return,” Groves most likely thought James was excusing himself to fix his hair.
“Thank you,” James quickly returned to his cabin as discreetly as possible without bringing any attention to his backside. Once he had closed the door he stared across the room at the mirror. It wasn’t just a few hairs that had gotten loose. His hair was almost the same disheveled state as it was when he was a former commodore, stumbling around drunk in Tortuga.
“The wind was not that bad,” James removed his wig. His hair was loose and flowing, and his hair had gown longer, past his shoulders, but it was no wear near the state it was in Tortuga. Instead of tangled and oily it was well groomed and lustrous. It felt softer than usual, almost like silk and when he brought a few strands closer to his nose he could smell the mixed aroma of vanilla, and gardenias.
A strange tickling itch brought his focus back to the growth. He turned around and to his horror he saw the growth had grown longer and tore through his trousers. He was growing a tail.
“What is happening?” He managed to ask between the shallow breaths that escaped his lungs. Now was not the time to panic. He was Admiral Norrington. He did not rise to such a rank by panicking. He couldn’t show anyone. No. He had to at least tell Groves.
“Have Captain Groves come to my cabin at once,” he ordered a soldier passing by before he closed the door. How was he going to confront Groves with his changes? The hair should be shown first and then the tail.
“Admiral?” Groves knocked first.
James swallowed the lump in his throat. “You may enter.”
“Well,” Groves’s eyes were drawn to James’s face when he entered. “I am certain many women in Port Royal would want to know what you use to wash your hair.”
“Yes,” James smiled weakly. Leave it to Groves to make some form of humor. “My hair was not like this a while ago.”
“No it wasn’t,” his captain nodded in agreement.
“Something else has happened to me,” James had to choose his words carefully. “It started after I woke from my fever. I noticed a growth and it has been growing.”
“You have an enlarging mole, or a wart?” Groves asked in concern.
“Worse,” James closed his eyes. “I’m growing a tail,” and before Groves could even ask another word he turned around. The tail was longer than before; already it was a foot and a half long.
“The light,” Groves said after several minutes of silence. “We receive beautiful dreams and you receive a fever and this.”
“I did not collapse along with you,” James replayed the events of the previous night in his head. “After everyone had fainted I turned around and there was this woman. She was breathtakingly beautiful and she had wings.”
“An angel?”
“That was what I thought and she told me I was chosen. Our hands touched and everything went dark. Then I woke up after breaking a fever.”
“You were chosen to grow a tail?”
“Apparently,” James laughed weakly and froze when he saw Groves staring at him intently. “What is it?”
“Your teeth.”
James turned back to the mirror and opened his mouth. His eyeteeth have grown longer and pointed. He pulled back his lower lip and to his somewhat assurance he saw that he did not have lower set of fangs.
“What is happening to me,” his voice shook as he clutched onto the table. His knuckles were almost as white as his fingernails. He stared at his fingers. His nails were the same length as before, but have turned the color of moonlight and were as glossy as his hair. “What else.” He examined his tongue and ran his fingers along his head to feel for bumps and growths. He felt nothing but when his fingers came in contact with his ears. They were normal in size and the ends were tipped in what felt like feathers. He pulled back his hair to see and he could see the short feathery fringe that was the same color as his hair.
“I think it has stopped growing,” Groves said.
James turned to stare at his tail. It had grown to a little over two feet. Its base started out as the same pale peach color as the rest of his skin but down the length it had changed to a rich golden color. The end was covered in a tuft of brown hair. It was only when James touched the tuft he noticed it was feathers and not fur.
“Can you,” Groves licked his lips. “Can you move it?”
“No,” he barely could feel it was there at all. He ran a finger against the skin and paused when he felt a down like substance. “It is like touching a foot that has fallen asleep. It can hardly feel my touch at all.”
“Maybe in time.”
“Yes, except I don’t want to move it, or have it feel.” He stared at his fingernails again. “I have no idea what has happened to me. I don’t even know what I am now.”
“Maybe the witch who brought you back to life knows.”
James’s eyes brightened. “I should have thought of her sooner. After we return to Port Royal you and I will take a smaller ship, no, a large boat and seek out this witch. We will ask the Turners to come with us since they know where she is and Mr. Murtogg and Mr. Mullroy as well.”
Groves nodded. “But until we reach Port Royal, what will we do about your condition.”
“Yes,” James ran his fingers through his hair. “I can tie this back, keep my ears hidden and place the end of the hair under my collar.” He stared down at his tail. “And we can keep this tail tied to my leg and I will put on a new pair of trousers.”
“I’d suggest not grinning, but it would be a pointless suggestion.”
“Of all the times to make a joke, Captain Groves, now is not one of them.”
“I am sorry,” Groves smirked.
“Very well. I want you to inform the men I will be there shortly.” He grabbed a comb and ran it through his hair.
-
Elizabeth Turner had formed the plan in her head even before Will had announced he was going to town to go drinking with some of his friends. Now that he was out of the house she had plenty of time to visit those who she intended to invite to her salon brunch. She would leave a message with the naval officers at the ports to inform both Captain Groves and Admiral Norrington they were also invited.
The Carlisle house was the first destination and as soon as she stepped out of the carriage she walked over to the garden patio where she knew she would find Julia.
Julia was seated in front of an easel, paintbrush in her hand. Elizabeth could tell by the fact Julia was wearing old gloves her friend was using oils and not watercolor. Julia never cared if her hands got dirty when she painted with watercolors. They were much easier to clean up than oils.
“Good afternoon Julia,” Elizabeth greeted her friend.
“Good afternoon Elizabeth,” Julia turned toward her right. She rarely turned to her left when someone spoke from behind. She wanted to be able to see them, she had explained.
“I have come to give you-“ the words she had rehearsed in her mind had faded when she saw the warm vibrant colors on the canvas. “Oh Julia that is beautiful.” She studied the painting of what she could tell was a cottage and trees.
“It’s a place father told me about,” Julia set her paintbrush down. “A place outside of London. You were
about to ask me something?”
“I want to invite you to a Salon brunch I am having this Wednesday,” Elizabeth planned on inviting all her friends, both single and married. “I am inviting all my friends and Will’s friends. It will be like the salons they have in France.”
“I would be delighted,” Her smile faded. “Are you trying having the single men and women meet in the hopes we start courting each other?”
Julia saw through her plan. “No, I just want to show that I will not forget my friends, single and married, even though I am married and I want to see if I can organize this salon myself. Father was the one who organized everything in the past.”
“I see,” Julia said in a tone, Elizabeth wasn’t quite sure if she believed her or not. “I accept your invitation.”
“Thank you,” Elizabeth said.
“Will you join me for tea tomorrow. Maybe we could even ride horses together.”
“We haven’t road horses together in years,” Elizabeth brightened at the suggestion. “I would love to.”
-
A/N: In the 17th and 18th centuries Salons were a gathering where the attendees would read poetry and excerpts from stories, and discuss art, music and philosophy.
James’s tail was from an on discussion in the feedback forum of Gaia Online about what an Angelic tail would look like.
