And the Winds of Destiny...
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Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
3,645
Reviews:
39
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
3,645
Reviews:
39
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Chapter 11 - From Father to Son
And the Winds of Destiny, by Hellborne (the_ferret_mom@yahoo.com)
Pirates of the Caribbean – PG-13
Copyright. Characters, not mine. See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Typing convention: / is used for thoughts. # is used for speech/writing in German. * - * - * is used for scene change/elapsed time.
Summary: How do you cheer up a depressed Sparrow?
Beta: The great BetaGoddess Pendragginink. She’s fantastic! And way too modest for her own good!
A/N: Apparently some fangirls went to Greg Ellis and asked him Groves’ first name. I don’t know if it was in reference for fanfics or if he even reads them, but hopefully he doesn’t take offense if he does. Anyway, it’s officially Theodore Groves, so any fics that I had previously done have had the name changed.
IMPORTANT NOTE: This is the sequel to “The Makings of a Pirate”. If you don’t read the first story, you’re missing EVERYTHING, so if you haven’t read it, please go do so and come back or you won’t understand anything.
NOTE: I live for reviews. No reviews, the muses go out gambling (we DO live in Las Vegas, after all) and I can’t get any writing done. Can’t figure out if anyone likes it if they don’t review. So REVIEW! PLEEEEEEZE???
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
May the wind always be at your back
And the sun always upon your face
And the winds of destiny to carry you aloft to dance with the stars.
--Old Irish Blessing as quoted by George Jung (“Blow”)
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 11 – From Father to Son
“His Highness Lawrence Hanover, Prince of England, beloved son to His Royal Majesty, King George the first.”
Raymond put his pen back in its holder and looked up as Lawrence strode into the room. “Good afternoon, Lawrence. Make yourself comfortable. The bar is quite well stocked if you are so inclined.”
Lawrence poured himself a glass of rum while eying the yellow lace curtains fluttering in the breeze next to the lilac velvet divan, then crossed the room and sat on an easy chair facing the governor’s desk. “I bring you news from His Royal Majesty, King George.”
“Not a lot gets past me, Lawrence. Anthony introduced you as George’s son, not mine. What did George do this time?”
Lawrence gulped. /Well, here goes nothing./ “His Royal Majesty—“
“Leave the titles out of it, Lawrence. It takes too much time. What has happened?”
“Yes, Sir. George has decided to adopt both of us, allow us to abandon the bastard name of Stewart.”
“And? He would never have bothered if he didn’t have something in mind.”
“Yes, Sir. As an added boon to you, he has named you his heir above his son George. You’ll be king some day, father.”
Raymond grew redder with every word that Lawrence uttered. “How DARE he! He knows my thoughts on the subject! And he steals my eldest child in the bargain and makes him my younger brother?! I REFUSE!”
Lawrence stood up, appearing confident and resolute. /Please don’t kill the messenger...PLEASE don’t kill the messenger!/ “You can’t. Furthermore, you have been recalled back to court immediately in order to prepare you for the inevitable and to, as His Royal Highness bade me put it, ‘to teach you some courtly manners’.” He transferred his weight to his toes, and prepared to dodge anything Raymond might heave at him.
However, instead of getting violent, Raymond slumped in his chair, his head in his hands. “He’s stolen my son, my name, and my freedom. It’ll be years before I would be crowned, which means years at court listening to inflated peacocks and arrogant screech owls blathering on about their own self-importance and whatnot.” He frowned. “And speaking of your mother, how is Lady Elizabeth Henrietta of Hesse-Cassel and what does she think of all this, as if I didn’t know?”
“She looks forward to being Queen, of course.”
“And to having her husband back home, I suppose?”
“Not so much that, I’m afraid.”
Raymond wasn’t surprised. “No...of course not.” He looked at his favorite son. “And what do you think of it all? And don’t go telling me of ‘honor to do the king’s bidding’. You’re MY son; I know you better than that.”
“Actually, it IS an honor. But no, I don’t like what he’s done to you. Especially after he told me that it would be a good punishment for all the time you’ve stayed away from Court having fun.”
At that point, there was a knock at the door, surprising them both. “Enter!”
Anthony opened the door. “Commodore Jonathan Gillette.”
Gillette walked into the room and saw both Raymond and Lawrence. Their likenesses were uncanny, even with the years separating them. He bowed. “Your Royal Highness bade me report to you immediately upon my return, Sir.”
“Sit down and relax, Commodore. Pour yourself a drink if you’d like.”
Gillette poured himself a snifter of brandy and sat on the divan.
“So, Commodore. Have you learned to pilot a ship into the harbor?”
“Yes, Governor. In fact, I docked the Pearl in the harbor myself, Your Highness.”
“Call me Raymond. By all appearances, you have learned that I am not your enemy. I’m glad.”
“Yes, Raymond. I do understand now, and have had a great deal of training in the realm of humility and humbleness toward others of all social classes.”
Raymond laughed. “Tell me, Jonathan. What design did Robert draw on your thigh?”
“None, Your Highness. He neither painted it, nor does it appear on my thigh.”
Raymond frowned.
“He branded it on my arse as a permanent reminder to whom I owe my allegiance.”
Raymond’s eyebrows rose. “I see. I apologize for that. I never told him to actually brand you. Point of fact, I abhor slavery and all the trappings thereof.”
“I know that, Raymond. Robert himself told me that it was his idea and that it would teach me faster with the brand. I agree. Painting an image on my thigh would not have impressed upon me just how serious the lessons were. Looking back, I’m glad that he branded me, and I wear your mark with pride, Your Highness.”
“On your bum.”
“Yes sir. On my bum.”
Raymond grinned. “Incredible.” He turned to Lawrence. “Can you work with Jonathan, Lawrence?”
Lawrence nodded. “Yes. We’ve become quite good friends on the crossing.”
“Good. Lawrence, we’ll have to go through all of the inaugural pishposh, but the Island of Jamaica is yours to govern, as are all of the Smythe-Douglass holdings here. I’ll start getting my things together.” He turned to Gillette. If you haven’t heard, Lawrence here is the governor now. I’m off to England to await my imprisonment.”
“But Your Highness, Lawrence told me you are to be our next king.”
“Jonathan. You know who and what I am in my heart. And you know just how much I prize my freedom. George is giving me a life sentence of hard labor in my eyes. So much so that, for only a moment...I actually thought of becoming Catholic just to escape it.” He chuckled halfheartedly.
“I’m truly sorry, Your Highness. I had hoped you would be pleased. I think you would make a marvelous king, Sir.”
“I suppose thanks are in order, but I do hope the parliament turns me down at the end.” Raymond stood, taking Ishtar from his lap where she’d been sleeping and transferring her to his pocket without waking her. “I bid you both good afternoon. Feel free to stay for supper. The chef is making Lawrence’s favorite food tonight for the occasion.” He left, a small white blur of Loki bouncing out the door behind him.
* - * - *
TBC
A/N: I'm depressed as all hell for health reasons. I could use some reviews right now...flames, friendly, or my favorite, the constructive criticism...please leave me a review of some sort...it would definitely cheer me up. Just hit the REVIEW button and type something.
Pirates of the Caribbean – PG-13
Copyright. Characters, not mine. See the Mouse. Story, mine, but I make no money. He does, but not on this.
Typing convention: / is used for thoughts. # is used for speech/writing in German. * - * - * is used for scene change/elapsed time.
Summary: How do you cheer up a depressed Sparrow?
Beta: The great BetaGoddess Pendragginink. She’s fantastic! And way too modest for her own good!
A/N: Apparently some fangirls went to Greg Ellis and asked him Groves’ first name. I don’t know if it was in reference for fanfics or if he even reads them, but hopefully he doesn’t take offense if he does. Anyway, it’s officially Theodore Groves, so any fics that I had previously done have had the name changed.
IMPORTANT NOTE: This is the sequel to “The Makings of a Pirate”. If you don’t read the first story, you’re missing EVERYTHING, so if you haven’t read it, please go do so and come back or you won’t understand anything.
NOTE: I live for reviews. No reviews, the muses go out gambling (we DO live in Las Vegas, after all) and I can’t get any writing done. Can’t figure out if anyone likes it if they don’t review. So REVIEW! PLEEEEEEZE???
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
May the wind always be at your back
And the sun always upon your face
And the winds of destiny to carry you aloft to dance with the stars.
--Old Irish Blessing as quoted by George Jung (“Blow”)
* - * - * - * - * - * - * - *
Chapter 11 – From Father to Son
“His Highness Lawrence Hanover, Prince of England, beloved son to His Royal Majesty, King George the first.”
Raymond put his pen back in its holder and looked up as Lawrence strode into the room. “Good afternoon, Lawrence. Make yourself comfortable. The bar is quite well stocked if you are so inclined.”
Lawrence poured himself a glass of rum while eying the yellow lace curtains fluttering in the breeze next to the lilac velvet divan, then crossed the room and sat on an easy chair facing the governor’s desk. “I bring you news from His Royal Majesty, King George.”
“Not a lot gets past me, Lawrence. Anthony introduced you as George’s son, not mine. What did George do this time?”
Lawrence gulped. /Well, here goes nothing./ “His Royal Majesty—“
“Leave the titles out of it, Lawrence. It takes too much time. What has happened?”
“Yes, Sir. George has decided to adopt both of us, allow us to abandon the bastard name of Stewart.”
“And? He would never have bothered if he didn’t have something in mind.”
“Yes, Sir. As an added boon to you, he has named you his heir above his son George. You’ll be king some day, father.”
Raymond grew redder with every word that Lawrence uttered. “How DARE he! He knows my thoughts on the subject! And he steals my eldest child in the bargain and makes him my younger brother?! I REFUSE!”
Lawrence stood up, appearing confident and resolute. /Please don’t kill the messenger...PLEASE don’t kill the messenger!/ “You can’t. Furthermore, you have been recalled back to court immediately in order to prepare you for the inevitable and to, as His Royal Highness bade me put it, ‘to teach you some courtly manners’.” He transferred his weight to his toes, and prepared to dodge anything Raymond might heave at him.
However, instead of getting violent, Raymond slumped in his chair, his head in his hands. “He’s stolen my son, my name, and my freedom. It’ll be years before I would be crowned, which means years at court listening to inflated peacocks and arrogant screech owls blathering on about their own self-importance and whatnot.” He frowned. “And speaking of your mother, how is Lady Elizabeth Henrietta of Hesse-Cassel and what does she think of all this, as if I didn’t know?”
“She looks forward to being Queen, of course.”
“And to having her husband back home, I suppose?”
“Not so much that, I’m afraid.”
Raymond wasn’t surprised. “No...of course not.” He looked at his favorite son. “And what do you think of it all? And don’t go telling me of ‘honor to do the king’s bidding’. You’re MY son; I know you better than that.”
“Actually, it IS an honor. But no, I don’t like what he’s done to you. Especially after he told me that it would be a good punishment for all the time you’ve stayed away from Court having fun.”
At that point, there was a knock at the door, surprising them both. “Enter!”
Anthony opened the door. “Commodore Jonathan Gillette.”
Gillette walked into the room and saw both Raymond and Lawrence. Their likenesses were uncanny, even with the years separating them. He bowed. “Your Royal Highness bade me report to you immediately upon my return, Sir.”
“Sit down and relax, Commodore. Pour yourself a drink if you’d like.”
Gillette poured himself a snifter of brandy and sat on the divan.
“So, Commodore. Have you learned to pilot a ship into the harbor?”
“Yes, Governor. In fact, I docked the Pearl in the harbor myself, Your Highness.”
“Call me Raymond. By all appearances, you have learned that I am not your enemy. I’m glad.”
“Yes, Raymond. I do understand now, and have had a great deal of training in the realm of humility and humbleness toward others of all social classes.”
Raymond laughed. “Tell me, Jonathan. What design did Robert draw on your thigh?”
“None, Your Highness. He neither painted it, nor does it appear on my thigh.”
Raymond frowned.
“He branded it on my arse as a permanent reminder to whom I owe my allegiance.”
Raymond’s eyebrows rose. “I see. I apologize for that. I never told him to actually brand you. Point of fact, I abhor slavery and all the trappings thereof.”
“I know that, Raymond. Robert himself told me that it was his idea and that it would teach me faster with the brand. I agree. Painting an image on my thigh would not have impressed upon me just how serious the lessons were. Looking back, I’m glad that he branded me, and I wear your mark with pride, Your Highness.”
“On your bum.”
“Yes sir. On my bum.”
Raymond grinned. “Incredible.” He turned to Lawrence. “Can you work with Jonathan, Lawrence?”
Lawrence nodded. “Yes. We’ve become quite good friends on the crossing.”
“Good. Lawrence, we’ll have to go through all of the inaugural pishposh, but the Island of Jamaica is yours to govern, as are all of the Smythe-Douglass holdings here. I’ll start getting my things together.” He turned to Gillette. If you haven’t heard, Lawrence here is the governor now. I’m off to England to await my imprisonment.”
“But Your Highness, Lawrence told me you are to be our next king.”
“Jonathan. You know who and what I am in my heart. And you know just how much I prize my freedom. George is giving me a life sentence of hard labor in my eyes. So much so that, for only a moment...I actually thought of becoming Catholic just to escape it.” He chuckled halfheartedly.
“I’m truly sorry, Your Highness. I had hoped you would be pleased. I think you would make a marvelous king, Sir.”
“I suppose thanks are in order, but I do hope the parliament turns me down at the end.” Raymond stood, taking Ishtar from his lap where she’d been sleeping and transferring her to his pocket without waking her. “I bid you both good afternoon. Feel free to stay for supper. The chef is making Lawrence’s favorite food tonight for the occasion.” He left, a small white blur of Loki bouncing out the door behind him.
* - * - *
TBC
A/N: I'm depressed as all hell for health reasons. I could use some reviews right now...flames, friendly, or my favorite, the constructive criticism...please leave me a review of some sort...it would definitely cheer me up. Just hit the REVIEW button and type something.