Norrington glanced down at his empty bottle. Was this society so inadequate that they had to steal? Or had he drained the whole bottle on his own accord? The latter, most likely. As he speculated, he felt that sense of rage swell up in him. The man before him just continued to drabble on and on.
"So what's your story?"
His story? It was almost laughable, to those other than himself.
"My story… is one chapter behind." He steadied himself by holding onto the wooden table. Gibbs stared up at him in wonder.
"Commodore?"
He began to shake, he didn't like being reminded of his current situation. And he didn't want to look back on his commodore life either, the things that were linked to it… Elizabeth.
"No not anymore, weren't you listening?"
His anger was too much to hold back, he brandished his pistol and aimed it at the retreating Jack Sparrow.
And before he knew it he was amidst a roaring brawl, he waved his sword about, drank some more rum. But then… blackness.
"You know him?" Hope looked down at the pitiful figure amongst the pigs. Elizabeth gazed on too.
"You look after him, I'll make sure Jack doesn't leave without us." Hope watched her cousin speed off, she snickered. She'll make a lot of other things too at the same time.
She moved to the man and nudged him with her foot. "Get up! Our ship will be leaving without us."
That got him, he raised his head, but she could not see his face for the darkness.
"Elizabeth?"
"Hope. Nice to meet you. Come on."
With surprising strength, he hauled himself up. They were face to face, his mud caked face to her, impatient, weary one.
"James Norrington." He held out a mud covered hand, he realised its state and drew it back. "Right."
The Black Pearl. It had brought the destruction that laid upon him. Bloody pirates! He surveyed Elizabeth, dressed in men's clothes. He would have looked after her. They could have been married by now. His heart remained a shrine to her. Ashamedly, he still worshipped the ground she trod on. He surveyed the sea about him, he had devoted so much time to the safe keeping of it. Wasted, just like his life.
"Bucket." Hope thrust it in front of him.
"So it would appear." He looked at her. Pretty, indeed, had a touch of Elizabeth's looks.
"They are for cleaning." She smiled, her teeth were quite vicious looking.
He raised his eyebrows. Grrrr… servant work. "Why don't you just become captain and be done with it?" His sarcasm blurted out again, his life long habit that offended many.
"Well, appoint me." She had her own scornful manner. He smiled. She walked off. Jack was talking to Elizabeth again, their lips were inches apart. He twisted the handle of the bucket. Pull yourself together, you are pathetic.
He was quite attractive. Hope wistfully admired the ex-commodore, on his knees, scrubbing the deck. Very dirty though, could do with a wash.
He looked up at her.
"What are you looking at?" Elizabeth appeared behind her, the subject of someone's attention.
"I'm thinking of how lucky we are not to be partaking in the labour."
Elizabeth chuckled. "I bribe Jack into letting us off."
Hope did not ask
It was pure torture. He was with Elizabeth, his beloved, everyday. But he could not touch her, let alone speak to her. How he longed to gather her in his arms, kiss her, run away with her, rebuild their lives together.
He stared down at the waves. They were as inconstant as her heart. How he had watched patiently as she choose from him to Will to him to Will to now Jack. All along he had that spark of hope that she would come to him, why, he still carried it now! But, he thought, that's what happens when one is given a choice: one will benefit, the other won't. Why was he always of the latter?
No. She wasn't in love was she? The moonlight illuminated the ocean, casting a silvery glow on her face. In most clichéd stories, this was the part when her true love would appear and sweep her off her feet. She waited. Did she actually love Norrington? Or was she bored? But what would be the point? He was madly in love with Elizabeth. To the extent of being mad.
Hope. He surveyed her closely.
"Have I done enough scrubbing yet? Or would you like me to do some more?"
"Well if you're so keen I have no choice but to oblige."
He couldn't deny the fact he was slightly attracted to her. "Anything for you."
Her eyes twinkled. "I'll keep that in mind." She grabbed onto the rail and faced to the sea, she turned to him. "Take me to land. I hate the feeling of being surrounded by a bottomless abyss."
He beheld her in his gaze, what was coming over him? Elizabeth! Wasn't he supposed to be brooding in despair? But before he knew, their lips met.
She wouldn't let her heart go. She refused.
"Hope?" It was Norrington. Who else? But it was dawning on her now. As if the man really cared for her. He was using her to get over his own disappointment, or to make Elizabeth jealous. But did he care for her own feelings? Or was he too concerned for his own?
It was sunset now. The light turned the ship orange. It was on fire. Norrington's brown hair had captured a purple glow. She looked in paralyzed wonder.
He tried to kiss her but she pulled back.
"I refuse to be a substitute." She turned her head away, but he grasped it in his hands.
"No, please be." His eyes pierced hers with earnesty… and love.
Had he found his match? Was his chapter written?