DragonLady
Timeline: Sequel to Brilliantine Mortality
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all that is attached belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer (may he be praised) and Disney.
I.
The sea thinks she owns him. Foolish wife, to imagine that she does not share everything with me. But then again, her temperament has always been volatile -- witness her murder of that Turner woman.
Not that I am complaining. I do not like having my favorite son's attention diverted. James understands all that I mean and all that I stand for, moreso than any other in my ranks. I cannot lose him, not even to matrimony. The possiblity of little Norringtons in my service does not equal the loss of the one; the risk that those little commodores will not share their father's ideals is too great. I need James to keep my... bloodline, if you will... pure. He weeds out the incompetent instead of promoting them, is a paragon for his men to look to and imitate, and performs the tasks I set before him with a skill and zeal that cannot be matched.
I need James, even more than my wife -- my wife, consort of pirates and merchants and Navymen. Her heart is not complete to me, not like the soul of James.
We fought for him, once. When he was young, we both fought for complete possession of him. She enticed, I beckoned, and we nearly tore him in two. In the end, we were forced to make a compromise else risk loosing him to the Kingdom of Rock. Thus we divided him in half.
There was no room for a third, something Elizabeth Swann-Turner should have realized. Either intentionally or unintentionally, she tried to steal what was ours. I am too much of a gentleman to respond violently to such an affront; she was safe testing my patience. My lady wife... Elizabeth was a fool to cross her.
And she paid for that stupidity. James paid as well, in grief most severe. And so now I comfort him as he buries himself in completing my tasks.
II.
This has gone on long enough. James can only shut out the pain for so long. Humans to not do well when emotions hvve not been resolved.
And so I send Renault Gillette to him, to draw things from him that I cannot.
III.
Bless the dear Frenchman, whom I was so suspicious of at first. He has indeed drawn the source of the agony from dear James. He soothes the wound and tells him the truth of the matter. Not only those mortal reasons that they invent to ease the pain of passing -- "it was her time," "the ways of God are a mystery," and the like -- but the reality that few men want to face. The ocean is far more than a body of water, it is a living being. And that living being will protect what is hers until the end of time.
"I thought you didn't believe in God," James spits, angry with the truth he has been told.
"I don't," Gillette says, and not unkindly. "But undead pirates changed my viewpoint on magic. There are things in this world greater than ourselves, and three of them own you. There was not room for another."
Damn. I had forgotten the third -- but she is one of my own and as such does not count. Not in any way that matters to my wife.
"That's... ridiculous."
"Like a fairy tale?"
"Don't hammer it to death, Renault."
Listen to wisdom, my son. Shoo the society leeches away before my wife gets jealous of them as well.
"I am not. I just warning you so it doesn't happen again. You're already sworn to another and another and another." Gillette sighed. "Think upon it. Even when chasing Elizabeth, how much more time did you spend chasing waves and pirates?"
"That's not fair!" James protested. He grimaced, realizing how childish he sounded.
"Your duty, the sea, and your ship will always be first in your heart. That should tell you all you need to know."
James said no more, but I knew as Gillette did that there would be no further competition. My favorite son's soul was mine, as it was and should be and will be forever.