Gillette fic

[spacebabie]

Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all related characters belong to Walt Disney, Gore, Jerry, Ted and Terry.

Characters: Andrew Gillette and several OC’s, Norrington , Scarlett and Giselle.

Pairings: Giselle/Norrington in passing. Implied Gillington.

Setting: Several years after the movies.

-

For Him and For Her

-

Captain Andrew Gillette did not know how he could explain it. He just had an inkling at the back of his mind that something was wrong and it was the reason he couldn’t sleep, despite the soothing sound of light rain against the window next to his bed. He thought of all the possibilities when a fear burned through him, rousing him out of the comfort of his bed and down the hallway towards Alice’s room.

He nearly collided with Diane as the middle age nursery maid came running out of the child’s room.

“Mr. Gillette,” Diane did not pause to catch her breath. “She is burning, her forehead is like fire when I touched it.” Usually she reminded Andrew of a partridge with her bright beady eyes and plump pear shape body. Her movement was similar to waddling as she ran after young Alice, but now she was like a frightened hen who had lost her chicks, scuttling about.

“Is she in her bed?” He knew it was a foolish question even before Diane stared at him as if her were a fool.

“Of course she is in her bed, she is in no condition to be on her feet, and I dare not try to move her.”

“Have you sent for the doctor?” He wanted to wring his own hands in the similar matter, but he had to keep himself calm. It was what he was taught.

“Not yet, I have only placed an extra blanket on her bed.”

“Find Dr. Harris, and rouse Susan. Tell her to brew some tea and bring a pitcher of cool water, and a cloth.”

“I’ll return as fast as I can,” Diane nodded before she ran towards the stairs.

Andrew didn’t wait to hear the beating of her feet against the steps and tore into Alice’s room. There were a few candles lit, but even without them he knew where she was.

Alice looked more like a doll than an actual child. Her face was paler than usual and her skin felt dry as powder when Andrew brushed his fingers across a cheek. Diane was right, she was burning hot. Her eyelids had a grayish blue tone and twitched slightly while the pile of coverings rose and fell in a slow rhythm.

“Dr. Harris is on his way,” he whispered. “He will make you feel better.” He ran to the nearest closet and grabbed everything and anything that could be sued as a covering and placed it over Alice’s bed, spreading it out to cover it as evenly as possible. So intent was his focus was on his daughter that he didn’t notice when a pitcher of water was set down next to the basin.

“Sir,” Susan addressed him. “The pot of tea is on the stove. I need to tend to the fire within to make certain it will be hot enough to boil.”

Andrew nodded at her. “Thank you.”

“Let me know when she awakes,” Susan said. She was a young woman, still young enough to be called a girl. She was hired recently to help clean and cook while Diane focused primarily on Alice’s care.

“I will let you know,” Andrew promised. He always kept his promises. He had to keep the one he made to James.

He could still remember holding James on the deck of the Victory. The weak smile his admiral gave him when they both were informed the stab wound was too deep. He could not forget the look in those green eyes when James had asked for one promise.

“Take care of her,” James said. His breaths were slowing and the once proud roar of the royal navy had weakened to the pitiful mew of a kitten. “Take care of Alice, on Tortuga.”

“James,” Andrew knew at that instance he could no longer hold the words he had always wanted to say back. “James, I love you.”

“Thank you,” Admiral James Norrington had rasped out his final words.

Andrew Gillette did keep to the promise. He did sail to the pirate infested island, took on the guise of a pirate himself and asked the local merchants, and owners of the taverns and inns where he would find Alice.

He found a woman with bright red hair instead. She had lead him to another whore, a blond woman named Giselle who was at resting at death’s door herself. She was wrought with consumption and whenever she covered her mouth with a cloth she left blood on the material. She would not be in the world for long, not long enough to raise the toddler who lived with her, her daughter.

“I tried to tell him after she was born,” Giselle’s friend pointed at the blond toddler. “I left Tortuga to seek him out and told him her name an anything and he refused to believe me, didn’t want to admit he had bed one of us, but you can see it in her eyes.”

It was on look that told Andrew that Alice was indeed James’s daughter, those same green eyes that had mesmerized Andrew for years. It was the look and the promise Andrew had made.

“I got here as fast as I can,” Dr Harris tore into Alice’s room, carrying his leather bag of medicines with him. “Has her condition improved?”

“She is still asleep,” Andrew didn’t want to rouse his adopted daughter from her sleep. He had already damped the cloth and placed it on her forehead.

“She is going to have to be awake to take her medicine,” Dr Harris opened the bag and rummaged around the contents. “The willow bark has already been ground. I don’t suppose there is honey in that tea.”

Andrew looked up to see both Sarah and Harris’s daughter, Teresa were carrying a tray containing a tea pot, sugar bowl and cup.

“I thought that was for sore throats,” Teresa had said once the tray had been set down. “I could go and see if Andrew has a honey jar.”

Andrew did not flinch at the mention of his name escape Teresa’s lips, it would have been more odd if she had referred to by his surname and title.

“We have a jar in the larder,” Sarah said. “I will fetch it at once.”

“Bring back a bit of lemon as well,” the doctor said as Sarah ran out. “If there is any.”

“We have a few,” Andrew brushed his fingers through the blond curls on Alice’s head and noticed how damp and weighed down they were. It couldn’t have all been from the damp cloud. He gently touched her cheek. She felt much cooler to the touch. “The fever has been broken.”

“Praise the lord,” Diane said from where she stood in the entrance. The poor woman had been pacing around and uttering prayers.

“She still needs to wake up and take her medicine.”

“Why can’t we let her sleep?” Teresa did not blink her steel blue eyes. “She needs her rest.”

“And the medicine will help her recover and prevent another fever from developing,” Dr. Harris grabbed a small jar from his bag. “Captain Gillette if you could wake her.”

“Are you just going to spoon it into her mouth?” Teresa asked. “You know children do not like medicine.”

“We could mix it in with her tea,” Andrew pulled back several of the covers and gently caressed Alice’s arms and her head.

“Then we should at least wait until Sarah returns-”

“I’m sorry it had taken so long,” Sarah raced into the room with both the honey jar and a lemon. “I nearly forgotten where we kept the lemons.”

“It is hard to concentrate when the little un isn’t well,” Diane told her.

“I’ll prepare her tea,” Teresa offered.

Andrew watched as she filled the cup about three fourths of the way and stirred in the honey. Teresa massaged the lemon before she pressed the tip of a knife through the thick peel and squeezed the fruit over the cup until enough droplets of juice had fell in.

“I’ll mix in the medicine,” Dr. Harris filled a spoon with the powdered willow bark and stirred it in.

“Da,” Andrew heard his daughter’s soft voice. “Da, I feel hot.”

“Alice,” Andrew turned around in time to see his daughter try to sit herself up.

“I have too many blankets,” she pushed back a few more layers.

“You weren’t well. I had to keep you warm.”

“I don’t feel ill,” she stared up at him. “Everyone is here.”

“We were all worried about you,” Diane told her.

“I’m thirsty, can I have some water?” Alice asked.

“How about a nice warm cup of tea instead?” Dr Harris approached the other side of her bed and held out the prepared cup.

“Thank you,” Alice took the cup and blew on it before she slowly sipped it. “It’s good.” She smiled. She had the same mouth as her father and when she did smile she reminded Andrew of James even more.

“After she drinks her tea make sure she gets more sleep,” the doctor instructed. “Give her another spoonful of willow bark in the morning.”

Andrew nodded again.

“Do I have to have all the covers?” Alice asked after she had taken another sip. “I feel fine.”

“You need some of them acushla,” Andrew kissed her forehead. “But not all of them.” He will rest well knowing that she had recovered, and not because he kept his promises. It was because of his love for her.

Comments

[galadhir.livejournal.com]

Yay! It's lovely to see you over here :) And what a lovely little fic. My Gillington fangirlish heart loves the idea of Andrew raising James' daughter as his own. And I recognize the bedside scene from my own nights with sick toddlers, though in my case with rather fewer servants to help! Squee! Thanks for posting this :)

[spacebabie.livejournal.com]

Thank you for reviewing. My oddball brain is already sparking more Gillette fics with the other characters.

[galadhir.livejournal.com]

Hurray! That's good news :) Bravo!