After the death of her privateer captain, Fiona has nothing left but the indescribable pull of the ocean and the promise of gold owed to her by a pirate. What she didn't expect was to find herself doing Jack Sparrow another favour. In their quest to find The Crown of Immortality, she unwittingly finds herself in the company of the man with whom her fate is forever entwined; Commodore James Norrington.

Against his better judgement, James Norrington comes to trust the young Irish woman he is forced to share a ship with even though she hides many secrets. What he doesn't quite comprehend is why he feels so bound to her, after a simple act of kindness. Delving into the mysteries of the ocean together, he finds that Fiona is a lot more than she seems.

When the stars are aligned just perfectly, an Irish wind will blow...

Hello again! This is my second story on this site, but for those of you interested in more Musketeers stuff, I will be posting some more soon! For that reason I won't promise how often I'll update this story but I will do so as and when I can. If you read my last story, you'll know there was an Irish character in there and as I'm Northern Irish I couldn't help being inspired by Verity in Jamestown who is a fierce Irish lady for those of you who haven't seen it. This story which was just the barest notion of an idea took firm shape once I decided my main OC would be Irish. I will quote some poems here and there and was going to stick to only Irish poetry; but a few that are not Irish sneaked in that I had in my head from the beginning that I can't bear to part with.

I thought Norrington deserved some romance and he will eventually get it, but it will be a bit of a slow burn! I'm quite worried about Jack Sparrow characterisation but I'm going to try my best to get him as close to right as I can! I'm dabbling in a little mythology also, and I'm not quite sure how that will all turn out but from my plan it seems to fit! I will add a few Irish sayings or abbreviations here and there and I will try to include their meanings but if some are a little confusing please ask! This is also my first attempt at writing in the first person which I normally struggle with but my OC is Irish, and we like nothing better than telling a good story!

If you didn't just skip all of that ^^^, Thanks!

Chapter One - Irish Weather

The rain pelted down in torrential sheets over the city of London and its cobbled streets. On the fifth day of the cumbersome conditions that would commonly come to be known as Irish weather, the rain and sleet fell so heavily that one might have mistaken main thoroughfares of the city such as The Strand or Cheap-side for the River Thames.

The solitary figure who braved a brisk walk in such conditions did so not out of curiosity or foolishness, but duty. He was commanded both by the missive that had arrived at his lodgings earlier that same day requesting his presence at rather an odd address in town, and of something else entirely. Now we look upon it and call it some rather unearthly persuasion that had him venturing out to attend such a meeting that he had in all good graces not thought to attend but an hour before. He called it fate once and I'd been disinclined to believe that even then. No, I believed that fate certainly had a lot to do with the occurrences we both met even when apart back then, at the beginning of things. Our fates though were entwined a little further back I thought. Seven months further back to be exact, when we; that is my Captain and I had saved this man's life and that of some of his ship-mates. I shan't discuss that with you now though, for that part of the story fits better a little later, when you have a slightly better understanding of just who the man is, and of who I am.

The figure had wrapped a large dark overcoat around himself as he trudged rather disconsolately from his modest lodgings in Mayfair and headed not towards the old Royal Naval College at Greenwich but west into the more upmarket residential area of Knightsbridge; the playground of the social climbers and nobility that swarmed around the King's court. The man was glad of the walk west, as the Naval College to the east was rather a longer walk. He had considered that to be the birth place of such a letter at first, but had been relieved to recognise the address detailed at the end of it. He did not recognise the name of its writer though. The hand was elegant to be sure, and the name Sir Malcolm Sidney certainly sounded like the kind of gentleman that his father might have called upon in days past. He let out a short snarl as a crack of thunder sounded ominously above him and he hoped sincerely that his meeting was not going to be a long one. If it were longer than a half hour and the weather worsened, he might find himself stranded within the home of this Sir Malcolm Sidney until there was improvement in the climate.

He stopped as he was crossing Queen's Gate, suddenly feeling the overwhelming impulse to turn upon his heel and go back the way he had come. He did not know this Sidney. He did not know anyone in London any more, not really. Even those who could claim acquaintance with him were not the kind of people he had any desire to be around now. He could crawl back to the lodgings he had picked for their modesty and privacy and disappear into another bottle of port for the twelfth night in a row and try to forget the last ten years of his life. He could try to forget her.

This is where we both think fate had occasion to step in. He didn't want to go, the resolutely unhappy man with little to live for but his career in the Navy. Sir Malcolm Sidney was not a Naval man, this he knew well. It was likely nothing at all to do
with his career. He had become rather well known of late as the scourge of the Caribbean and had been rather shocked to find that word had even reached London of his escapades upon the sea. It was likely the lure of gold that had Sidney dragging him from his shelter on such a day. He had encountered a few such occurrences in the little time he had spent back in London. Men with flailing fortunes wanted to marry their daughters and nieces off to a man like himself, who they thought would one day make Admiral of the Fleet. Such a title was both desirous and most likely beyond his reach now. He had toyed with giving up his commission entirely after what had happened off the coast of Tripoli. He had single-handily killed almost all of his crew due to his own rash orders. Only the actions of my captain saved his soul and that of seven of his men. Even now after everything he still sometimes has the ability to sink into that melancholy oblivion of grief and self-blame that those few short hours caused him. It will be with him for the rest of his life, no matter what I do to try and aid him. That anger, grief and shame might have driven him mad as it has done to so many men over time or perhaps even killed him. He was a young man still, with many attributes and qualities to serve him well. The trouble was, he did not recognise those things in himself any more. Now, part of me thinks that was more to do with losing her than his crew and ship. I do not think I shall ever tell him that though.

Remarkably he still had within him some strange determination and perhaps it was only to do well despite the woman who had spurned him that kept him walking though the rain. I see that determination as something much more. My Captain you see, was such a good man. You couldn't be around him for even as little as a few hours and not be affected by his presence. When he saved the Navy man that day, he showed him real and true determination; had him rethinking his descent into darkness. If for nothing else than respect for my Captain, he battled on through his demons and I believe he began to overcome them even as he spoke with the butler and was admitted into the grand vestibule of the house on Ennismore Gardens.

He told me that the butler was rather startled by the appearance of such a wraith at the door of the residence and even giving his name did not placate the man. He did let him in though. The butler turned towards a sweeping staircase and ascended it to inform his master that his guest had arrived. He shrugged out of his overcoat and took off the worn leather tricorn hat that had protected only a little of his powdered white wig from the rain as the butler descended the staircase in a flurry, his eyes widening a little and his manners improving as he looked upon the Starched white collared shirt and stockade that lay beneath a navy-blue coat, the gold trim of the sleeves confirming his rank of Commodore. James Norrington nodded to the butler as the man took his hat and coat and followed his instructions to wait for him to return. His belongings were placed carefully in a cloakroom and the butler led him upstairs and announced him in Sir Malcolm Sidney's study.

He was right of course. Sir Malcolm Sidney was not a Navy man. In truth, he was not altogether different in appearance from what James had been expecting. A man in his late fifties, with grey hair and a ruddy complexion that alluded to far too much alcohol over the course of his life. There were rings upon quite a few of his stubby fingers and the chain of a fob watch hung between a coat button and a pocket. The man stood as James approached and opened his arms wide in what he probably thought was a welcoming stance.

"Commodore Norrington, it's a pleasure to finally meet the man that my peers speak of as the scourge of the Spanish Main! You know, you are thought very highly of sir! You are expected to do very well indeed!"

I imagine James was trying his very best to think of his best escape route and trying resolutely not to roll his eyes in annoyance. He undoubtedly thought this meeting had been arranged so that Sidney could thrust a daughter or niece under the Commodore's nose. Politeness forced him to at least make some small talk with the man before leaving in haste, even though praise was not something he was able to listen to with any semblance of normality.

"I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Sir Sidney although I do wonder at you wishing to meet a man such as myself. You are not a Naval man yourself from what I have gathered?"

Indeed, he had not gone into his meeting entirely blind. He had asked around in the taverns he had frequented since his return to London in an attempt to find out what he could about Sidney. Evidently, he did not look hard enough and I've told him so on quite a few occasions. He did know though, that Sidney had nothing whatsoever to do with the Navy.

Sidney gave him a rather shrewd glance as he gestured for James to sit, and retook his own seat behind his desk. Within a moment, the butler had procured two glasses of port and presented them to the gentlemen.

"Thank you, John, that will be all," Sidney announced without even glancing at his butler who swiftly retreated from the room. James told me of course, that he had noticed such a small and insignificant thing and of how it would help to shape his perception of Sidney. Sidney had called his butler John. The majority of wealthy people like Sidney were able to employ a vast household staff and could not be expected to recall the names of each and every one of said household. Therefore, they called the male members of staff John, and the female members Jane. There was a small courtesy afforded to butlers and housekeepers though, as they held a more respectable position in society. Therefore, it was customary to call them by their given names. Sidney had failed to do so. It was a mark of indifference and arrogance that Sidney had not taken the trouble to learn the butler's name. He may have been a downtrodden shell of the man he once was due to his trials upon the sea and in regards to his heart but James noticed this slight. It was the swift movement of the butler as he left the room that confirmed to James that the man's name had never been John.

Thus, his perception of Sidney was beginning to form. James knew he was not a man to rely upon and I am glad he had such a thought in his head. He listened to the man though, noting that although Sidney spoke the Queen's English and had likely been educated in London, there was the slightest trace of something else there within his accent that was either Scottish or Irish. They discussed the weather for a few moments, and of James's return to London.

"You do not strike me as the type though, to remain in your own country for long," Sidney asked rather pointedly after a while.

James nodded as he tried to think of a polite way to answer what was evidently a very personal question in the guise of another. "You are correct Sir in presuming my stay in London is not a long one. My business is all but concluded. I plan to sail for the Caribbean again poste haste. There is no reason for a prolonged stay when all of my friends are themselves aboard other ships upon the sea. I do believe there is no one in London who would wish to claim acquaintance with me."

He knew better than to think he had dodged Sidney's question when the older man smiled knowingly. "No sweetheart then? But perhaps there is one in the Caribbean, no?"

I suppose it must have felt as if some kind of cord within him pulled upon his heart then. The dull ache was suddenly shooting pains within his chest as he tried to calm his breathing and his heart rate. He had deliberately not thought of her for days, but a few words from Sidney had brought him right back to when he had last seen her, standing alongside William Turner as she declared her love for him before her own father. She was as lost to him now as she had ever been. A stranger in London would likely have been more attainable than Elizabeth Swan ever would have been. He knew that, but still he could not forget his feelings. He could not mould his admiration for her into something else even when she belonged to another man. If she had not already married Turner, he supposed it would happen soon. They would likely be husband and wife by the time he had returned to Port Royal; if he returned.

"No Sir there is not," he replied curtly. "I feel my mind serves a better purpose when level headed and not distracted by dalliances. I had in recent months set about overseeing the training of some officers and lieutenants who I believe have the potential to go far within the Navy. that has been my sole purpose when not undertaking the pursuit of pirates."

"A noble venture...yes, both noble ventures Commodore," mumbled Sidney as he glanced down at some of the paperwork upon his desk. "What of your own ambitions within the Navy? I know your father held the rank of Admiral for a time. I had thought you would have considered following in his footsteps?"

James tried his hardest not to frown. He told me so, but if I'm honest I think he must have always been frowning in those days. He had such a sullen temper that I'm sure that even the happiest of occasions would have rendered him stoic at best. He thought Sidney was fishing for information in regards to how good a marriage prospect James might make and so he thought to move the conversation on to the pinnacle point. He stole a glance out of the sash window directly behind Sidney and grimaced as he realised that the rain had grown even heavier if that were possible. He needed to retreat back to his own lodgings soon before he became stranded. "Forgive my impudence Sir but I'm sure you will understand that I have not much time left in London in which to conduct my affairs. Whilst I'm honoured by your request to visit you and pleased to make your acquaintance, I fear that for you this will have all been in vain. Whilst you have yet to state your reasons for bringing me here to your home, please be aware you are not the only gentleman to have propositioned me in such a way during my stay in London. Just last night I was offered the hand in marriage of the Eldest Miss Gainsborough. Whilst I'm sure she is charming, I have no intentions of marrying at present or ever so I'm afraid-"

He stopped mid-sentence and stared across the desk at Sidney, who was now chuckling heartily as if James had said something rather funny indeed. "Young man do not tie yourself in knots just yet," roared Sidney before he took a healthy mouthful of whiskey. "I'm not going to force you to marry some chit. Heavens, I've no unmarried female relations to even put before you in such a manner. No my boy, I want to talk about gold."

I imagine James raised one of those well structured brows of his quizzically. I'm sure he was also a little relieved. "You see," continued Sidney, "I'm aware that some say you're the best there is when it comes to chasing down pirates and we know how pirates like their gold. What I'm about to ask you is a topic of a delicate matter. I would appreciate it if you were not to speak of it with anyone else once our meeting has concluded. You must understand that there will be others like myself vying for this particular gold artefact and I do not want them to get wind of my own search for it."

"Sir I can give no assurances," James stated blandly. "I cannot until I know of what it is that you speak. I would also have you tell me how this gold artefact relates to me."

Sidney simpered a little then, as if delighted they had finally reached the crux of their meeting. It was in those few seconds I believe, that James decided that he really did not like the man at all. "Have you not heard of something which in some languages is called The Crown of Immortality?" Sidney asked softly.

"I have not," James confirmed, "but forgive me Sir? Is this mythical object a definite object; a crown of gold? Or are we speaking rather of a figurative meaning?"

Sidney leaned forward in his chair a little as he appraised James. "Well I do like your methodical mind. You did not rebuff me from the first and tell me that no such thing could exist. Instead your logical mind jumped exactly what it was I was seeking. I can see I really did pick the right sort of fellow for the job."

"J...Job Sir?" James stammered.

"Yes boy, I want you to find it for me!" Sidney exclaimed in mirth as if he were a school master telling school children of an enjoyable excursion they may take if their behaviour warranted such a treat.

It was the second time that James had been called boy in just a few moments and each time he'd felt a pang of annoyance. Sidney might have been twice his age but James could not find a conceivable reason a man of his own age would be referred to as a child. After everything that he had seen and done over the last few years alone, everything he had experienced; he believed that he was due a little more respect for that. He knew Sidney had employed such tactics to try and disarm him. James thought Sidney a fool. Sat before him was a Naval man who had lost almost everything months before, and now had little left to lose except his own life. He still daily contemplated resigning his commission and retreating to some sorry home far from civilisation where he would not last the next winter. He was tired and cold, with weary dark circles underneath his eyes and a fair few more wrinkles than he dared count. He was turning thirty-three on his next birthday which was but a few weeks away and truly believed he had little to show for so many years upon the earth.

I think James a fool for thinking so ill of himself. He was Commodore of Port Royal and upheld a sterling reputation. To someone like myself, that is certainly not nothing. It was her. She had made him feel so downtrodden and be-little'd about his own self that he was beginning to reject the only path he had ever seen himself taking in life. His father before him had been a great Admiral, or so he was told and James had never questioned how his feet automatically led him down the same path his father had taken some years before. all of that meant very little to him now. he might have been raised to the rank of Commodore at a younger age than his father did, but he no longer had ambitions of being raised any further. His father had married a lot later in life, but that did not fill James with any confidence at all. No, that's a lie. He fleetingly had thoughts of Will Turner reaching a sorry end sooner rather than later and Elizabeth running straight to him. He'd have been her second choice, her only option after marrying a blacksmith who was really a pirate too. She could not have hoped to marry well again should she ever need to. The shame would have been too much for most men. It should have been too much for James Norrington, but I think that even he knew he'd still have her. Even if she only married him to save herself from scorn and ridicule; even if she still held Turner in her heart above anyone else he would still marry her. He loved her still.

When James did not immediately reply in some way, Sidney stood from his chair and began to pace the room before the fireplace. "Find me the crown Commodore. Find it for me and I shall make you an Admiral. Make no mistake, I've got a fair few influential ears that regularly listen to my whisperings. I control half of parliament when I choose to and that is no exaggeration."

"Forgive me sir," James queried in his best attempt at polite curiosity. "Am I to understand that you are commissioning me to find for you this mythical crown, when I have not heard of it before myself and highly doubt it's existence?"

Sidney chuckled and nodded. rubbing his hands together, he continued to pace in silence for a few minutes and James grew more incensed as the silence bore on. Here paced a man twice his age who had likely not seen half as much or experienced as much of the world as James had himself, who was entreating him to find some lost mythical object that in all likelihood was just an old wives' tale. How on earth was he to start such a search? I think it also occurred to James that Sidney might have been implying that James could not make Admiral without the finding of such an artefact, and I don't doubt that he felt insulted by such a notion. There is still a young Lieutenant within him somewhere, eager to please and desperate to be noticed by his peers; adamant that he be recognised for promotion because of his own actions and decisions rather than because he was his father's son.

"Sir if I ask an impertinent question then please reprimand me, but why does a man such as yourself want this crown. Surely even if it exists you don't believe it is capable of granting immortality?"

Sidney fixed James with a shrewd look as he returned to his chair behind his desk. It was as if he was trying to read in James's expression what question he would ask before had asked it.

"I do believe you ask the oddest questions Commodore. not 'Where should I look for such a crown?' or 'Where did you hear of such a thing?' but why do you want it? You really do have a logical mind with a twist don't you! You wish to ascertain whether I have good or bad intentions before we delve more deeply. you have the mark of a good man about you, to question that particular point above all else."

James held back a snort. "I would not say good Sir, but careful." My heart broke for him when he told me he'd said that. He did not even consider himself a decent man any more because surely if he was good and decent, Elizabeth Swan would have loved him instead of the blacksmith. Ironically he held the answer within himself. He could not help his love for her, no matter how hard he tried to shake it off. He did not want to love her any more than he wanted to become Admiral but he couldn't change it. How like a man to blame the woman for her feelings when he knew very well he could not help his own. He did not understand yet that we cannot help who we love. He would come to, in time.

"Careful is better than good," replied Sidney. "I need a man I can trust not to act rashly. I need-"

"Sir I apologise for the interruption but did you not hear of what befell my ship The Dauntless off the coast of Tripoli? She sank sir! With myself at the helm and all but eight of us survived. I recklessly pursued a damned pirate with fervent abandon and sailed all of those men to their deaths. I find that within me I cannot even blame the pirate Jack Sparrow for such an occurrence. I should not have let my anger and determination blind me!"

"My boy," James grimaced. "Jack Sparrow is why you are here! He will search for such a crown himself once he hears of it and he will hear of it, mark my words. Whether he will do so because he wants it for himself, or because he wants to get to it before the East India Trading Company will remain to be seen."

"The East India Company Sir?" James felt his curiosity finally begin to spike.

"Yes Commodore." Sidney sat back in his chair, relief washing over his face and James realised the relief was because he had finally shown an interest. "An old combatant of mine is also aware of the existence of the crown and seeks it for himself.
I believe Lord Cutler Beckett's ship left port some time ago. If he is not already in the Caribbean, he soon will be. I want you to find it before he does boy!"

James opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word there was a sharp knock upon the study door. The butler appeared as the door swung open. "If you please Sir, there is a Mr Hawkins come to call. Are you in or out?"

"Oh John I am most definitely in! Send him right up!" Sidney called with an air of excitedness. James remained quiet as Sidney stood again and they both listened to the distinct sound of two sets of footfalls upon the carpeted stairwell, before the door swung open again. It appeared Mr Hawkins did not care enough for propriety to await the butler announcing him for he strolled into the room as if the house were his own. James turned back to observe Sidney and saw that the older man did not appear to mind the over-familiarity.

"Sidney old man!" crowed Hawkins as he leapt forward to clasp hands with Sidney. "This damned weather has turned London upside down! Upon the sea there are no such irrationalities where rain is concerned. Most of us are wet anyway!"

Sidney let out a bark of laughter and returned to his seat again. James turned back to Hawkins to observe the clothing of someone who was certainly not a Naval man. He was scruffy, with fair hair tied back with a piece of black leather and tired black boots upon his feet. The coat he wore was certainly never cut for him and was made for a man a little taller. it was also of a finer cloth than a man like Hawkins could have afforded. The single lone earring dangling from Hawkins's right ear lobe offended James greatly. This man might perhaps have passed for a merchant if it were not for the earring and the rather arrogant attitude. No, James was almost sure this man reminded him of every pirate he'd ever met.

"You are not too late Hawkins my boy. You see the Commodore I spoke of is still here." James turned back to Sidney sharply, wondering what on earth he had walked into. "Hawkins here," Continued Sidney as if he had sensed James's confusion, is a privateer." That made more sense to James. "He procures trinkets and the like for the crown."

"I like to think I bring you more than trinkets Sidney!" Hawkins cried in mock offence.

Sidney laughed good naturedly as James realised just why Sidney was so influential. Mr Hawkins the privateer was clearly in Sidney's employ. Any gold or treasure retrieved would go through Sidney's own hands. "I know that at some point Commodore, that wonderfully intelligent mind of yours will eventually wonder how on earth you are expected to locate such an artefact yourself and the answer lies in Mr Hawkins. If you agree to my proposition, Mr Hawkins will accompany you on your journey to find the crown. He is rather gifted in terms of navigation and only last year he retrieved a fortune's worth of gold from the wrecks of two Spanish Armada Galleons that sank of the coast of Ireland. both of you are the best of the best, and I have the utmost faith in you both."

"This Lord Beckett," James wondered aloud suddenly, "Would it really be so bad if this crown fell into his hands?"

"He wants to control the seas does Beckett," cried Hawkins. "He wants to rule it with an iron fist."

James raised a brow. "Would that be such a bad thing. I know the likes of men that sail the seas and challenge authority. An iron fist is what is needed where most of them are concerned."

"And there I thought you were an intelligent man Commodore," Sidney said softly. "You are a logical man at least. Logic though sometimes prohibits what must be seen. There are things you cannot possibly comprehend yet about what lies out there upon the sea, things you will not believe until you have seen them with your own eyes. Even then you will still question them. Perhaps you already have seen them and your logical mind convinced you you'd seen something else entirely. You do not want to believe yet, but in time you will. That is why I should like Mr Hawkins to accompany you. He has experience of such things and can guide you in the right way."

I expect James wore an expression of sheer confusion and disbelief. I've seen that look upon his face a few times but it appears less and less as the years have passed. He has grown more accustomed to the unusual, as my tale will tell. "Sir Sidney, what things am I to see that I may not believe? I have sailed the seas for more than half of my life now, and have come across people and situations that you could not possibly imagine. What more is there to see?"

Sidney steepled his hands in front of his face and observed James for a few moments before he spoke again. When he did, his voice had lost some of the lustre that it had before. "Commodore you would not believe me if I told you. There are tales that go back centuries, perhaps even thousands of years that for a long time were discounted as legend and myth-"

"Like this crown?"

"Yes boy like the crown. Beckett must be stopped because if he gains control of all of that, we are all doomed."

James looked from Sidney to Hawkins as both men awaited his answer. "This is about more than rivalry then? I do not know if I am the right man for such an undertaking. The East India Company built Port Royal. I am who I am today because of them. This Lord Beckett will surely not appreciate my meddling-"

"Let me worry about Beckett and you can concentrate on getting yourself and Hawkins back to the Caribbean."

James shook his head. "You forget yourself Sir. I have not given you an answer yet."

Sidney didn't speak and James was left to his own thoughts. I only have his account of the conversation and from that I cannot believe he ever agreed to such a scheme. I know how he felt back then. He was in a dark place. I've been in such a place myself, as you will come to hear. I do not know what it was that made up his mind. I don't think it was the lure of the myths and legends. He's a practical man is James. he takes things at face value, and I for one am glad he does. That kind of man is always required no matter the situation. Despite his desire to leave the Navy, I do think the promise of promotion called to him a little. It as a stirring of an old life before Elizabeth Swan obscured his vision so profoundly that he could not see where he even placed his feet as he walked. Perhaps that awoke something in him then; a determination to return to the man he had once been. I think there was also a quest for glory. If he could retrieve that crown and place it into Sidney's hands then perhaps he could make his father proud, make himself proud.

Even with all of this, I still do not understand why he eventually agreed to take Hawkins with him and to go in search of The Crown of Immortality. Maybe fate reared it's ugly head again and made the decision for him. Of course, he had his own conditions. Sidney promised him a ship and crew but James was adamant that the seven men still alive who had sailed with him aboard the Dauntless would also sail with him this time. He also made it clear that he would remain solely in command, and that Hawkins was only to accompany him in an advisory capacity. Hawkins wasn't that concerned as long as he received the fee he had been promised. I think James was aware even then that perhaps Hawkins thought there would be more to gain from such a voyage as well as Sidney's fee.

Regardless of James's connection to Jack Sparrow or Lord Beckett, or even the fact that he and I met a few months before this meeting took place when my captain saved his life; I am not fool enough to deny that this meeting brought me to where I am today, telling you this story. Fate is a curious thing you see. Maybe James and I would have come together again anyway, but his meeting with Sir Malcolm Sidney who happens to be my uncle would change James's fate forever, and that of mine.

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!