Sparrow chuckles when James mentions his mother's relief, but the humour soon fades into a curious, closed look. It's pensive, and more than a little unsettling. Perhaps he had misstepped, bringing up his own mother, not thinking about Sparrow's. After all, it was eminently plausible that Sparrow had never known his- more like than not he was the son of a whore and a pirate, or perhaps even a Marine on shoreleave who had spent an unlucky night with the future mother.
Whatever the case, it is clear Sparrow doesn't want to speak of it, as he leans close with that dangerous glitter in his eyes and murmurs some nonsense about him being sprung from the sea. That was Aphrodite, James half-thinks, not Athena, but he refrains from mentioning it. If Sparrow wants to resort to the ridiculously mythic rumours about himself which one seems to find in every port, James will let him. He will not forget, however, that he has done so. Just another part of the pirate he doesn't understand- more Italian to be translated, as it were. So he smiles wanly, as he is sure Sparrow wants him to do, and allows him to continue.
He seems strangely hesitant, however, about giving James a place on the ship- not that this is surprising, really. After all, he is a Commodore of the King's Navy, and he imagines any pirate would be loath to put such a man to work aboard his ship. Or perhaps it is not that- the look Sparrow is giving him is a measuring one, and it strikes James that perhaps he doubts his use aboard a ship, a notion which is confirmed when Sparrow asks coyly to see his credentials.
He bristles slightly. 'Credentials, Sparrow?' His voice is wryly amused- perfect, 'I am a Commodore, surely; what other credentials do you need? But if you must know- I crewed my first ship when I was twelve years old, as a cabin boy aboard the Empire Gull. I spent several years with her until I eventually became a Midshipman. From there, I went to serve aboard the Diligence as a Lieutenent. And the rest... I'm sure you can imagine.'
While he takes pride in his achievements, certainly- he is, after all, the youngest Commodore possibly ever in the Royal Navy- it seems dull to be listing them all off, and he coughs awkwardly.
'But I'm sure that's not what you meant- you want to know if I still can hoist sails and climb the rigging and all that- do the work of an ordinary sailor.' He looks Sparrow in the eyes- he wants him to know this, wants somehow to prove himself. 'Yes, Sparrow, I can. Like I said- I am a sailor. There's no way I would remain Commodore if I couldn't do the work of the lowliest Marine as well as the command required of my position.'
no subject
Whatever the case, it is clear Sparrow doesn't want to speak of it, as he leans close with that dangerous glitter in his eyes and murmurs some nonsense about him being sprung from the sea. That was Aphrodite, James half-thinks, not Athena, but he refrains from mentioning it. If Sparrow wants to resort to the ridiculously mythic rumours about himself which one seems to find in every port, James will let him. He will not forget, however, that he has done so. Just another part of the pirate he doesn't understand- more Italian to be translated, as it were. So he smiles wanly, as he is sure Sparrow wants him to do, and allows him to continue.
He seems strangely hesitant, however, about giving James a place on the ship- not that this is surprising, really. After all, he is a Commodore of the King's Navy, and he imagines any pirate would be loath to put such a man to work aboard his ship. Or perhaps it is not that- the look Sparrow is giving him is a measuring one, and it strikes James that perhaps he doubts his use aboard a ship, a notion which is confirmed when Sparrow asks coyly to see his credentials.
He bristles slightly. 'Credentials, Sparrow?' His voice is wryly amused- perfect, 'I am a Commodore, surely; what other credentials do you need? But if you must know- I crewed my first ship when I was twelve years old, as a cabin boy aboard the Empire Gull. I spent several years with her until I eventually became a Midshipman. From there, I went to serve aboard the Diligence as a Lieutenent. And the rest... I'm sure you can imagine.'
While he takes pride in his achievements, certainly- he is, after all, the youngest Commodore possibly ever in the Royal Navy- it seems dull to be listing them all off, and he coughs awkwardly.
'But I'm sure that's not what you meant- you want to know if I still can hoist sails and climb the rigging and all that- do the work of an ordinary sailor.' He looks Sparrow in the eyes- he wants him to know this, wants somehow to prove himself. 'Yes, Sparrow, I can. Like I said- I am a sailor. There's no way I would remain Commodore if I couldn't do the work of the lowliest Marine as well as the command required of my position.'