themeletor | Farf.

Two... um, things, written for

cjk1701's Norrington Challenge. Posted in the reverse order of their respective times of creation.

2:

thop, thop, thop, thop

The noise continued, rhythmic and soft, but percussive as a beat to quarters, just to the left of Jack’s ear. He didn’t think he’d ever heard a ship make such a noise, but maybe the storm had jostled something in the Marietta’s bulwarks. Because the only other thing or person in the sick berth was … James. Jack let an eyebrow crawl up into a point, stretching his eyelid out as he tried to keep it shut. A quick tilt of his head determined, Aye, ‘s him.

thop-thop-thop-thop-thop-

James picked up speed, took it at double-time. The hits resounded in his inner ear like the soft, comforting cousin of a clever broadside. His wrist had gone cramped and numb long ago, it seemed. He rested the heel of his hand and restricted movement to his long middle finger only, curled and striking over and over. He bit his lip and squirmed again, discreetly.

taptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptaptap

“Damn and sink you, J, what are you doing?”
“Thinking.”
Jack sighed and shimmied deeper into his hammock.
“’Bout the tadpole?”
“Mm-mm.”
That was a yes. The knocking slowed again.

thup, thup, thup

“I’m inclined to trust him.”
James pulled a tight frown.

thumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthumpthump

Jack flung his eyes open and twisted over onto one elbow. “James Norrington, if you don’t stop that you’ll—”
James quit tapping long enough to hook his fingers over his shirt collar and pull down. A small, round callous perched on his prominent collarbone, about three inches in from his shoulder. Where he'd been tapping.
“—Ah’m. You think a lot, then?”
James’ night-pale lips quirked into a thin, lopsided smile. “Nervous habit.”

and

1:
James Norrington loves the smell of sage. As a shock-eyed lip-peeling new commander he’d snuck into his steward’s pantry and crushed the desiccated leaves into little flakes that coloured his fingertips a pale, dusty green and tossed fragranced powder up into his nostrils. Sharp, clean, with a rich, antiqued undertone and a regal bearing. He doesn’t quite know how any scent can have a regal bearing, but he’s tried to emulate it ever since.

They'll go into my fic lj if I really get to like them.