Once the shock of waking up to find a small boy lying next to him had worn off, Tharkay was somewhat amused to discover that the care and keeping of a seven year old Will Laurence was not so very different from what he was used to.

...

Finish that later.

-



"She is a far better musician than I am, and a better performer," Beth said, her eyes dropping to the program in her hands and taking in none of the words printed there.

Jo scoffed. "Hardly. Our Beth is quite talented."

"Do you play as well?" he asked, looking across Beth to Jo.

"Oh, I haven't the brains for music," Jo said cheerfully. "I love to listen, though."

"I am in similar straits," said Norrington, affecting a small smile of his own. At that moment, the lights began to dim, and Beth sat slightly forward in her chair, eager to hear the music of an old school chum.

...

I dunno, I assume Norrington isn't particularly musically inclined? I hope that's not off. XD

-

Dear James, began the letter. I hope Christmas finds you well and content. If you are not precisely warm, perhaps the enclosed mittens shall be of use for you. I hope they are large enough; I could not think of a way to ask the measurement of your hands without giving away the surprise.

It continued on with stories of Thanksgiving and the coming plans for Christmas (including examples of the Plumfield students' inexpertly concealed plans for gifts to each other, each a unique amusement), and ended with more warm wishes. Folding the sheets of notepaper into thirds, she tucked them carefully into the left mitten and packed them into a small box, labeled Capt James Norrington in her careful hand.

"Is that for Captain Norrington?" inquired Marmee when Beth descended to the ground floor to set the package on the table nearest the door, that she or someone else might remember to take it to the post office the next morning.

Beth nodded. "I'm sending him the mittens I've been working on; I only finished them this afternoon."

"What, the patterned ones?" asked Jo, who had come to call upon their mother that Friday afternoon. "He'll have to like those, they looked terribly complicated to make."

"They were not so difficult," Beth answered, glancing at the cardboard box concealing them from view. "And he has mentioned how his fingers grow stiff sometimes."

"Didn't they involve six different colours of yarn?" asked Jo. "I'd have ended up with every skein tangled up somehow; no one can knit quite as you can, Bethy."

"It is a thoughtful gift," Marmee said, in agreement with Beth, though her gaze went to Jo first, and Beth found the expression she wore while looking at her elder daughter quite unreadable. "I am sure he will appreciate them on cold nights."

-

Turns out the trick to these is, apparently, listening to the PotC soundtracks. Nnnnngh. I don't feel sleepy, but I should probably go to bed.

(Also, I had these mittens in mind. Hardxcore.)