This is my first fic, and I guess you could say I'm newly initiated
to fanfiction.net. I do appreciate your reviews. I do not own anything
besides a copy of the DVD Pirates of the Caribbean.
"You forget your place, Turner."
"Its right here, between you and Jack."
The son of the legendary Bill Turner stood there in his stately appearance, the wind whipping the adornment upon his hat so wildly, it seemed to Commodore James Norrington a frayed banner of hope in the silhouette of a feather.
Yes, Turner, hope is the only ration you will have to feed on at the gallows.
Elizabeth Swann stood looking on, beside her father, who clutched her arm in a grip of what looked like dire anxiety. The soldiers brandished their bayonets as they glinted dangerously, with almost a sheer expression of bloodlust in the bright sunlight. The crowd that had gathered to view Jack Sparrow's hanging had all fled, but were secretly huddled in the covered hallway, viewing this scene to see if justice would run its course.
All of them, at my command. Both of them could be headless if I just give the word...
"Then, Mr. Turner, I presume you are aware of the consequences of holding your place as it currently is." he spoke in his usual, honor consumed voice as he held his sword before him, directed at Will's throat like a bizarre compass signaling the bearing to death.
Turner nodded. "I am. If all I have achieved here is the fact that the hangman will receive two pairs of boots rather than one, then so be it. At least my conscience will be clear."
Captain Jack Sparrow nudged his associate in crime's ribs with his elbow while he held his hands up in a mock sort of surrender. "Not a good idea, Will...not at all...don't do anything stupid..."
"You speak boldly now, Turner. This will not be so when you meet your fate. Rash actions deserve rash endings. All acts of piracy result in the culprit's hanging. You were well informed just moments ago, and so I contain no pity." He bit out his last words, emphasizing the power he held.
"So be it," Turner replied.
Norrington nearly rolled his eyes in disgust. No doubt Elizabeth was bursting with love and admiration for Will right at this very moment. The thought of this lurched the Commodore's proud heart.
"Sir?" Gillette, ever anxious and persistent looked now to the Commodore.
Norrington nodded. "Take them away. Clap them in irons, I will deal with this situation presently." He made as if to leave, as Gillette secured Sparrow and Turner's bonds and led them away, both figures with sullen, defiant expressions. When Governor Swann interjected.
"Commodore? If I may, a word?"
"As you wish." James folded his hands behind his back.
Swann inhaled deeply as he stepped forward, Elizabeth at his side, just as sullen as the captives and silent as stone.
"I beg you to plead this case otherwise. All matters concerning yourself and my daughter aside, these men have proved honorable and gracious to myself and Elizabeth, servants of the crown, as yourself. For those deeds, I feel they have redeemed themselves. In fact, I hereby decree a new law...that if a good deed requires an act of piracy, then piracy itself may be accepted as the right course."
He spoke with authority and certainty, causing the Commodore to hesitate in his response.
"Turner, perhaps. Yet Sparrow..."
A series of shouts suddenly erupted from the corner of the courtyard. Norrington turned just in time to witness Jack Sparrow's form stumble over the wall overlooking the sea and disappear as he fell. Turner stood there, eyes flashing with uncertainty.
A smirk suddenly alighted upon his lips. He tipped his hat at Elizabeth. "Miss Swann. I bid you farewell. Commodore, I go now to a better fate than at the hands of the law." He nodded at them all before himself stumbling over the wall.
"No Will! Stop! Don't!" Elizabeth cried, racing to the wall. Norrington gaped as she herself nearly fell over. "No!" she screamed.
"Miss Swann..." he said, dashing over to her so to prevent her from falling, should she decide to.
"He's alive!" she shouted, as if everyone surveying the scene from the wall's edge surrounding her wasn't aware of the situation. "The Black Pearl..."
The great ship was slowly sailing into the harbor, beneath the great rock cliff that towered above the port as if a god. Two forms could be distinctly seen moving ever so slowly, but consistently, towards its bow.
"What's your plan of action, Sir?" Gillette persisted, his eyes never leaving the distant floundering figures.
The Commodore looked over at Elizabeth. Her fists were clenched in what he knew to be agony, and the kindred spirit that was almost always alight in her eyes had fled like shadows in the sunlight. A tear rolled down the slope of her cheek. Her eyes rose to him, and her lips formed words that were produced in a mere, nearly inaudible whisper. "Please...let him go..."
He looked to the sea again. Sparrow was aboard the ship, assisting in hauling Turner aboard.
If he, the Commodore, ordered the cannons loaded, they could be fired in a matter of moments. The Black Pearl would require a few minutes for the rudder to shift and the ship to change directions. The grand galleon would be destroyed, sunk right there in the harbor and the pirate scum aboard would founder along with it. They would wash up on shore as helpless shipwrecks, and the soldiers...his soldiers at his command, would be waiting right there on the beach.
It was all too perfect. An end to the pirate troubles of Port Royal. The greatest success in his career. And yet...he remembered the words he had spoken in the not so distant past... "I serve others, not just myself."
He glanced at Elizabeth, who still peered up with him, her eyes now brimming with unshed tears. "Please..." she whispered.
"Sir?" Gillette.
"I think it is suitable to give them one day's head start," he replied, rising his eyebrows in a sort of mock jest. The appreciative glance Elizabeth gave him did not go unheeded to his eyes as he paced away. "That will be all," he announced to the soldiers.
Gillette bowed his head and turned in, waving the soldiers away. There was no questioning Commodore Norrington after he had made an order...or you weren't around to discuss the event with your comrades in the morning.
As the Commodore paced away, Elizabeth turned to her father and spoke five words, her eyes fixed on the fading officer. "I want to marry him."
Swann's eyes lit up like the lanterns on the dock, ablaze after a long day in the tropical heat, and grateful for the ability to produce their own warmth and assurance. "Elizabeth, you mean to...hold true to your previous engagement?"
She nodded. "I do."
"But...Turner..."
"He doesn't love me, Father."
"But...he just admitted he did, at the hanging..."
"Yes. In words, only. Though he did, rescue me, risked his life to save me...the way he refused to remain here...that look in his eye as he bid us all farewell...it was the truth. Love was not in his glance. Perhaps," she cleared her throat, while staring into Swann's eyes. "Perhaps he only said it to...insure his safety."
"You forget your place, Turner."
"Its right here, between you and Jack."
The son of the legendary Bill Turner stood there in his stately appearance, the wind whipping the adornment upon his hat so wildly, it seemed to Commodore James Norrington a frayed banner of hope in the silhouette of a feather.
Yes, Turner, hope is the only ration you will have to feed on at the gallows.
Elizabeth Swann stood looking on, beside her father, who clutched her arm in a grip of what looked like dire anxiety. The soldiers brandished their bayonets as they glinted dangerously, with almost a sheer expression of bloodlust in the bright sunlight. The crowd that had gathered to view Jack Sparrow's hanging had all fled, but were secretly huddled in the covered hallway, viewing this scene to see if justice would run its course.
All of them, at my command. Both of them could be headless if I just give the word...
"Then, Mr. Turner, I presume you are aware of the consequences of holding your place as it currently is." he spoke in his usual, honor consumed voice as he held his sword before him, directed at Will's throat like a bizarre compass signaling the bearing to death.
Turner nodded. "I am. If all I have achieved here is the fact that the hangman will receive two pairs of boots rather than one, then so be it. At least my conscience will be clear."
Captain Jack Sparrow nudged his associate in crime's ribs with his elbow while he held his hands up in a mock sort of surrender. "Not a good idea, Will...not at all...don't do anything stupid..."
"You speak boldly now, Turner. This will not be so when you meet your fate. Rash actions deserve rash endings. All acts of piracy result in the culprit's hanging. You were well informed just moments ago, and so I contain no pity." He bit out his last words, emphasizing the power he held.
"So be it," Turner replied.
Norrington nearly rolled his eyes in disgust. No doubt Elizabeth was bursting with love and admiration for Will right at this very moment. The thought of this lurched the Commodore's proud heart.
"Sir?" Gillette, ever anxious and persistent looked now to the Commodore.
Norrington nodded. "Take them away. Clap them in irons, I will deal with this situation presently." He made as if to leave, as Gillette secured Sparrow and Turner's bonds and led them away, both figures with sullen, defiant expressions. When Governor Swann interjected.
"Commodore? If I may, a word?"
"As you wish." James folded his hands behind his back.
Swann inhaled deeply as he stepped forward, Elizabeth at his side, just as sullen as the captives and silent as stone.
"I beg you to plead this case otherwise. All matters concerning yourself and my daughter aside, these men have proved honorable and gracious to myself and Elizabeth, servants of the crown, as yourself. For those deeds, I feel they have redeemed themselves. In fact, I hereby decree a new law...that if a good deed requires an act of piracy, then piracy itself may be accepted as the right course."
He spoke with authority and certainty, causing the Commodore to hesitate in his response.
"Turner, perhaps. Yet Sparrow..."
A series of shouts suddenly erupted from the corner of the courtyard. Norrington turned just in time to witness Jack Sparrow's form stumble over the wall overlooking the sea and disappear as he fell. Turner stood there, eyes flashing with uncertainty.
A smirk suddenly alighted upon his lips. He tipped his hat at Elizabeth. "Miss Swann. I bid you farewell. Commodore, I go now to a better fate than at the hands of the law." He nodded at them all before himself stumbling over the wall.
"No Will! Stop! Don't!" Elizabeth cried, racing to the wall. Norrington gaped as she herself nearly fell over. "No!" she screamed.
"Miss Swann..." he said, dashing over to her so to prevent her from falling, should she decide to.
"He's alive!" she shouted, as if everyone surveying the scene from the wall's edge surrounding her wasn't aware of the situation. "The Black Pearl..."
The great ship was slowly sailing into the harbor, beneath the great rock cliff that towered above the port as if a god. Two forms could be distinctly seen moving ever so slowly, but consistently, towards its bow.
"What's your plan of action, Sir?" Gillette persisted, his eyes never leaving the distant floundering figures.
The Commodore looked over at Elizabeth. Her fists were clenched in what he knew to be agony, and the kindred spirit that was almost always alight in her eyes had fled like shadows in the sunlight. A tear rolled down the slope of her cheek. Her eyes rose to him, and her lips formed words that were produced in a mere, nearly inaudible whisper. "Please...let him go..."
He looked to the sea again. Sparrow was aboard the ship, assisting in hauling Turner aboard.
If he, the Commodore, ordered the cannons loaded, they could be fired in a matter of moments. The Black Pearl would require a few minutes for the rudder to shift and the ship to change directions. The grand galleon would be destroyed, sunk right there in the harbor and the pirate scum aboard would founder along with it. They would wash up on shore as helpless shipwrecks, and the soldiers...his soldiers at his command, would be waiting right there on the beach.
It was all too perfect. An end to the pirate troubles of Port Royal. The greatest success in his career. And yet...he remembered the words he had spoken in the not so distant past... "I serve others, not just myself."
He glanced at Elizabeth, who still peered up with him, her eyes now brimming with unshed tears. "Please..." she whispered.
"Sir?" Gillette.
"I think it is suitable to give them one day's head start," he replied, rising his eyebrows in a sort of mock jest. The appreciative glance Elizabeth gave him did not go unheeded to his eyes as he paced away. "That will be all," he announced to the soldiers.
Gillette bowed his head and turned in, waving the soldiers away. There was no questioning Commodore Norrington after he had made an order...or you weren't around to discuss the event with your comrades in the morning.
As the Commodore paced away, Elizabeth turned to her father and spoke five words, her eyes fixed on the fading officer. "I want to marry him."
Swann's eyes lit up like the lanterns on the dock, ablaze after a long day in the tropical heat, and grateful for the ability to produce their own warmth and assurance. "Elizabeth, you mean to...hold true to your previous engagement?"
She nodded. "I do."
"But...Turner..."
"He doesn't love me, Father."
"But...he just admitted he did, at the hanging..."
"Yes. In words, only. Though he did, rescue me, risked his life to save me...the way he refused to remain here...that look in his eye as he bid us all farewell...it was the truth. Love was not in his glance. Perhaps," she cleared her throat, while staring into Swann's eyes. "Perhaps he only said it to...insure his safety."