Possession Lyrics by Sarah McLaughlin:
Into this night I wander
It's morning that I dread
Another day of knowing of
The path I fear to tread
Oh into the sea of waking dreams
I follow without pride
Nothing stands between us here
And I won't be denied
Possession
He was not comfortable watching them, but had grown accustomed.
James Norrington knew better than any other man that being honorable and decent did not mean the world would lavish you with gifts and trophies.
He had given up the love of the beautiful Elizabeth Swann so that she could be with the blacksmith-turned-pirate Will Turner. James was a man of substance and rank, and could give Elizabeth the kind of lifestyle she was accustomed to with her father. She would never want for anything with him.
But she had chosen to give her love to a poor blacksmith of dubious honor. True, she had offered to marry him to spare Turner, but Norrington did not want a woman who did not give herself freely to him, mind, body, and heart.
The trouble was, for as much as Turner and Elizabeth had secretly loved one another for all of those years, he had secretly loved Elizabeth.
He had watched her grow and mature from a gangly child to a beautiful kind-spirited woman. As he had attended various functions in her fatherás honor, he had grown to admire the young woman as she flitted among admirers with a kind, gentle word, but never allowing them to whisk her off to a darkened corner for more than just a dance. He himself had filled her dance card, but never been lucky enough to steal her away from the others, to speak freely and frankly to her of his dreams of becoming an admiral and of coming home to a wife and family of his own.
For a moment, all of that had been within his grasp. Now...
Now he watched, hidden in the darkness of the night, as she and Turner stole away from the party and attentions of her father, to spend heated moments together in the garden. Before his very eyes, their caresses brought forth moans and sighs of pleasure from each. He wanted to look away but was unableto do so. He watched the expression of rapture cross Elizabethás features, and the image burned into his brain.
He took another swig from the flask of rum he carried. It should have been him loving Elizabeth. He should have been the one to touch her, to please her. It should have been his ears that she whispered words of love into. He should have been bolder in his attentions, he should have told her plainly of his love, both in word and actions. He should have blotted the image of the boy blacksmith from her mind.
He finished off the rum and turned his back on the happy couple. He would return to his cold lodgings alone.
But in his mind, Elizabeth would be his tonight. His forever.