The Heart's Compass
Commodore Norrington wasn't afraid. After all, he had risen in His Majesty's Navy because of his abilities to stay calm in dangerous situations. No, what he was feeling was sadness. An enormous sense of loss. He watched as his men were swept overboard by the raging waters, as the mast snapped in half and the ship tossed before quickly leaning to one side, threatening to throw every last one of Norrington's brave and loyal men into the unforgiving sea.
As he held onto the side rail for the last few seconds before a giant wave stared him down, his last thoughts were of her.
Then all was cold, rushing, silence, then…nothing.
/
Elizabeth stepped out into the garden to get some fresh air. She hadn't realized her father would make such a big deal about her engagement, especially since she had accepted the proposal of the mere blacksmith-cum-pirate instead of the dashing Commodore.
As she fanned her face in the balmy Jamaican outdoors, Elizabeth tried to recall who it was that she had met that evening. Most of the guests were her father's friends, most she had never met before, save for those that worked closely with him.
She had asked Will if there was anyone he would like to invite to the ball, but he had not many friends in the world and said he was merely happy to spend all his energy watching her be the belle of the ball.
Just as she was about to go back inside and find her fiancée, the Commodore squeezed past some particularly rotund guests, they were apparently in the sugar cane trade, and appeared on the terrace.
"Ah, Miss Swann."
Elizabeth bent her head. "Commodore." She lowered her voice as the back garden was quiet and peaceful, the complete opposite to the ballroom inside.
Commodore Norrington slowly made his way over to Miss Swann. "The stars are pretty tonight." He commented offhandedly as he approached.
"Indeed." Elizabeth scrutinized his profile as he looked out upon the grounds. She wondered what he could possibly have to say to her now.
In a moment, he spoke, "Miss Swann, I wanted to inform you I shall be leaving Jamaica tomorrow morning and as such I regret that I have to leave your wonderful ball now in order to get some rest."
He turned and looked earnestly at her. "I will not be back before your nuptials."
Elizabeth nodded. "I will convey your regrets to Will."
Norrington nodded and seemed to hesitate as if he had something more to say. There was nothing more to say, however, so he gave a short bow and turned towards the house.
Elizabeth fanned herself even though it was cooler outside.
Elizabeth was in the middle of entertaining Mrs. Clapham and her two daughters when her father walked in, a solemn look on his face. He refused to answer his daughter's remarks while they had company and tried his best to be civil but it was clear something was just not right.
Elizabeth eventually thanked the Claphams for condescending to visit them and promised to return the favor within the next week in order to see first-hand how Miss Jennifer Clapham's piano skills were improving.
She smiled and bid them goodbye at the front door. Frowning, she closed the door and headed back into the sitting room.
She sat down beside her father, gently took his hands in hers, and bid him to look at her. It wasn't often her father ever seemed so grave, so Elizabeth was rightly worried.
His voice cracked, now that he was free to express himself. "Elizabeth, my dear, this may come as a shock… it did when I heard. I'm afraid…" But he couldn't put the news into words so he pulled his hand out of his daughter's soft grasp and fished around inside his coat pocket to find the missive. He handed it to Elizabeth then went to stand by the window as she read it.
Elizabeth tried to prepare herself for whatever was written upon the page.
When she finished reading, she read it once more to make sure it really was there, printed on paper, irrevocably true. She had heard of so many people around Port Royale losing loved ones, but she never expected to receive such a telegram herself. Those three words would haunt her forever, she knew. "Lost at sea" seemed to loom up into her mind's eye as if she were looking through a magnifying glass. The Duchess had washed up on shore, along with most of the ship's crew. Commodore Norrington's body had not been recovered after the storm.
Elizabeth slowly folded the letter and walked over to her father's side. She handed the telegram back to him and stared out the window at the bright, cheerful morning, feeling a heavy weight descend upon her.
Before she could say anything, her father slipped his hand in hers and squeezed tightly.
Oh how she wished it were night, that she might go to her room unquestioned to dwell upon the emotions swelling in her breast. As it was, she had all day to suffer through. How, she knew not.
/
Looking back, Elizabeth couldn't remember how she made it through the day. She couldn't even recall what she did that day. As soon as dinner was over, she excused herself on the pretense that she had a headache. Her father was too solemn himself to notice much and said goodnight to her earlier than usual.
Elizabeth barely refrained from taking the stairs two at a time. When she shut her door, she ran to her bed and fell upon it, face down. For the next hour, her pillow soaked up her tears. She could hardly breathe, she was sobbing so much. Her body heaved, forcing her to sit up and undo her dress in order to release the tight laces of her corset. She clutched her pillow to her and bowed her head, reliving everything she had ever shared with James. If Will knew she was weeping this much, he would certainly not approve but Will wasn't there and so she didn't spare him a thought. Her mind, body, and soul were too busy missing the charming Commodore.
Eventually, Elizabeth wore herself out and fell back onto the bed. She closed her eyes, willing herself to get some rest.
The last thought before she fell asleep was of his smile.
It was a year later, when Elizabeth took her usual morning walk around one side of the island. She always left early to watch the sun rise and to see if any ships had made it into port the night before. The morning was always busy with merchants preparing their wares for the day and ships beginning to load or unload.
Elizabeth's favorite spot was a perch high up on the clifftops, overlooking the beach. She would sit or stand there for hours until it was time for breakfast.
Although she had walked this route every morning for a year, her father had no knowledge of it.
This morning was only slightly different than the last. While it was still dark, Elizabeth noticed a man emerge from a small cave in the bottom of the cliff. She gasped as she noticed he was naked, and quickly turned her head as he made his way into the sea to bathe and rinse out the bundle of clothes he carried. When she thought it was safe to look, she saw him dive under a wave and emerge, shaking the water from his eyes, his body covered by the ocean to mid-waist.
She knew she shouldn't be watching and walked away before he could make his way back to the shore.
She mused that he must be a vagrant or smuggler and thought being as far away from that spot would be the smart thing to do. And she was hungry.
/
James Norrington bit hard into the apple he had snuck from the fruit cart passing him. He chewed vigorously, envisioning eating well once again. He wondered what would have happened while he was gone. Likely, his home would be boarded up and vacant, the servants all having found other employment. He couldn't expect there to be a welcoming committee. However, he had no money to stay in a hotel and the bank might be suspicious if a dead man returned asking to reopen his account or requesting a restaurant to extend him credit.
But he did have friends. As long as Governor Swann was still around, he was sure to find food and lodging.
Norrington threw away his apple core and began the familiar walk up from the docks towards the Governor's Mansion. He tried, and failed, to repress images of Elizabeth being there as well, with her husband on her arm. He hoped she wouldn't be; he wasn't ready for that yet and he also didn't look his best.
Norrington frowned as he glanced down at his attire, that same attire he had been wearing for the last year. It had been ripped, torn, covered in mud and rain and other unmentionable items, washed in the ocean or small streams over and over again, and smelled of…well, he didn't want to think about that one for too long.
If only he could go home and freshen up before meeting civilization. His beard and hair badly needed a trim.
James sighed and trudged on. No one could blame him for his appearance; after all, he had spent a year trying to find his way home by any means available, all bar strapping himself to some sea turtles. It had been a rough journey and he had lost what little weight he had before. But he had made it and that was all that mattered.
So James squared his shoulders against the stares of locals and continued on.
/
"Sir?" The butler stared at the bedraggled visitor, too well bred to show any surprise or disgust but Norrington felt it regardless.
"Is the Governor at home?" Norrington asked with a hoarse voice, long unused.
"I will check, sir. And may I ask who is calling?"
"An old friend, long forgotten."
"Very good, sir. Please wait in the hall."
Norrington stepped in, awed anew by the grandness of the entrance hall. The Governor's Mansion was a far cry from the rough, handmade lean-to's he was accustomed to. He wondered if he would ever feel comfortable living in such luxury again. He already knew that so much had changed for him.
It was only ten minutes later when Governor Swann descended the stairs from his study to see a man standing in the entrance way. His hair was long, past his shoulders, and his clothes….well, he wasn't sure why a beggar would be standing in his entrance hall. He would need to speak with Graves about that later.
Swann coughed to get the man's attention. The man turned around and respectfully nodded. "Governor."
"Forgive me, but my butler said you were an old friend of mine. I confess I do not remember you."
Norrington stepped a bit closer. "You knew me in much better circumstances, my lord. I believe you may have been told that I had died in a shipwreck."
Swann frowned and closed the gap between them. "Norrington?" He breathed out quietly. Norrington nodded slowly.
"My God, it is you. My dear boy! What you must have been through." Swann broke out into a large smile. "Oh my boy, I am so glad you are here once more." He held out his hand and shook Norrington's. "Come, we'll get you cleaned up and fed. You must stay here until you're on your feet again."
"Thank you indeed, sir. It has been a very long journey."
Norrington was whisked upstairs where Swann's household staff would get him looking shipshape once more.
/
Norrington stepped out of his bath feeling relaxed, calm, and human again. The bath water had been infused with sandalwood oil and he was grateful for the slight scent clinging to his body. He fastened the trousers Swann's valet Bates had provided him. They were too big on him, but until he gained his normal weight back he assumed there would not be much that would fit him correctly. He slowly towel dried his hair, noticing in the mirror how his arms were so much stronger than before, yet the rest of him was only skin and bone. He threw the towel onto a wicker chair in the corner and picked up the shirt he knew he would be swimming in. He made his way back into the adjoining bedroom to await Bates for a haircut and a shave. As he entered the room he heard a gasp.
/
Elizabeth rushed up the stairs. She had completely forgotten to grab that book on native birds for George. She smiled to herself as she remembered the market boy's enthusiasm. He would certainly be disappointed if she visited him without it. She had promised to point some of the birds out to him on their walk later that day.
When she entered the guest room where she knew the book was, among a few others left in there once upon a time, she gasped. Elizabeth had almost run into a half-naked man, his long hair wet and dripping down his body. His very emaciated body.
After noticing there was a man there, she noticed his face. His very familiar face.
"No…." She breathed out, before her world faded to blackness.
/
Elizabeth woke to the strong scent of smelling salts held under her nose by her father's valet, Bates.
"She's awake, sir."
"Elizabeth? Elizabeth, are you alright?" Norrington stood at the side of the bed, concerned that she had hit her head hard on the floor. He had been too far away to catch her in time.
"James?" She whispered slowly. She moved to sit up.
"Rest, Elizabeth. You hit your head. How do you feel?"
But Elizabeth couldn't think about anything other than the fact that she must surely be hallucinating. "Is this a dream?"
Bates withdrew from beside the bed and let Norrington move closer. He took his hand in hers. "No, Miss Elizabeth. I am here."
She blinked back a tear and slowly sat up. "But you… there was a telegram."
Norrington nodded. "I was the only survivor. Bates has gone to fetch your father. Should we find Mr Turner?"
Elizabeth frowned. "Will? Will isn't here. He's gone away with Jack."
Norrington frowned, wondering how he could go off on an adventure without his wife and how Elizabeth would ever let him but he pushed it to the back of his mind for now. He was too concerned with Elizabeth's health.
"So… so you're okay?" She asked, too shocked to believe that what she was seeing and hearing was true.
Norrington nodded and smiled. "Yes, I'm okay. Or I will be once I've had a few meals."
Elizabeth smiled, her eyes suddenly watery. She reached out a hand to gently tug at his beard. "You're not keeping the beard, are you?"
Norrington chuckled, glad she seemed to be back to her normal self. "Absolutely not. If you hadn't had a fainting spell, I would already be clean shaven."
Elizabeth turned on the bed and put her feet on the ground. "Well then, I'm sure Bates is itching to shave that off. I'll go downstairs and make sure we get some food ready for you. Then you can tell me everything."
Norrington was only slightly taken aback when she launched herself at him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck. "I'm so glad you're back. I'm so glad you're okay. I missed you." She whispered the last words then dashed out of the room before she broke down completely. She didn't want him to think she was even more of a weak female than he probably already did after her fall.
As she raced down the stairs to talk to the cook, her heart felt lighter than it had in a very long time.
/
Elizabeth wanted to hear every last detail of the past year while he slowly sipped soup in the large dining room. Norrington was torn between wanting to indulge her curiosity and asking to be excused for the evening; after having spent so much time on his own, he was becoming anxious for some accustomed solitude. However, as always, he could never say no to Elizabeth so he regaled her with all his tales. She gasped and laughed, and the more he watched her large eyes drinking in his stories, the more he wanted to never stop talking if only she would continue to look at him like that. In the back of his mind, he knew a year away had not changed his feelings for her one bit. Soon, he would have to move on. She had a husband and a life to go back to and he had a new life he had to begin.
After he was done, Elizabeth felt as if she had been there with him through all his ups and downs. She felt horrible for all the pain and loss he went through, and by the end, she was gripping tightly to his hand. She wasn't sure she'd ever be able to let him out of her sight again.
"Elizabeth, dear, I believe we are wearing the poor Commodore out." Governor Swann broke into his daughter's thoughts and as her face turned from staring at Norrington to her father, he smiled warmly. "There will be plenty of time to catch up but for now I think we must let Norrington sleep."
"Of course, how inconsiderate of me." Elizabeth slowly let go of the Commodore's hand, and stood up. "Shall I show you to your room?"
Norrington suppressed a yawn. "Thank you, but no. I shall see myself up." He certainly didn't need any further temptation. Knowing he would be sleeping just a few doors down from Elizabeth was torture enough. He was still unsure what her situation with Mr. Turner was but it was not his place to pry. Perhaps she would tell him more about herself on the morrow. And perhaps, Norrington mused to himself as he bid goodnight and made his way upstairs, he should be careful what he wished for.
/
It was still dark in his room, when Norrington heard a small scratching at his door. He wasn't sure what time it was or if he'd really gotten any sleep. His dreams had been strange, full of creatures of the night that morphed into Elizabeth and then scarpered off into the shadows. Mostly, though, he stared up the ceiling, a million thoughts running through his head. He was certainly grateful to be back home and in one piece, but there was something to be said about the constant routine of the past year. He had become rather adept at constructing shelter from the storms and hunting his next meal. Now, he wasn't sure what his place was in this new life he had been granted.
Blinking the last anxious thoughts away, he listened again for the noise.
Scritch scratch. "James, are you there?" Elizabeth's soft whisper reached him. Before he could get up, she had opened the door a fraction.
Elizabeth's candle illuminated the room, and she sought him out. His bed was empty, but a stirring below it caught her attention.
"Elizabeth, is something wrong?" Norrington asked, from the floor beside the bed.
"No…no, I… Why are you on the floor?"
Norrington stood up and waved a hand behind him towards the bed. "I'm not exactly accustomed to such luxury. I'm sure I will adjust in time."
Elizabeth nodded, feeling anew the pain of knowing he had suffered so much in the past year. "Did I wake you?"
Norrington shook his head. "Why are you here?"
"I usually go for a walk around this time. I thought perhaps if you weren't sleeping, you might want to join me?" She asked quietly, and just a bit sheepishly. She wondered if the propriety conscious Commodore would command her back to her bed.
James frowned. "What time is it?"
"Just before dawn. And before you say anything, I've been doing this for a year now and no, father does not know. Are you coming or not?" She raised an eyebrow, but the expression was slightly lost in the dark.
Realizing that this would likely be his only opportunity to see Elizabeth alone and finally try to put his feelings for her to rest, yet also acknowledging that it was a rather reckless idea, Norrington nevertheless grabbed the shirt at the end of his bed and followed her quietly out of the house. He tried to convince himself he must go with her in order to ensure her safety.
/
Norrington had always loved this time of day, when the sun was just peeking above the horizon. The calm before the storm, if you will. He strolled quietly at Elizabeth's side, his hands clasped behind his back. Being unable to keep his questions in check, he finally brought up what he had been wanting to know since yesterday.
"You mentioned that Mr. Turner was on the seas with Sparrow…?"
Elizabeth nodded, "Yes, they've been gone about four months now. I expect they'll return to civilization before too long but I'm sure they'll wander off again shortly after." Elizabeth paused and looked out over the ocean from their path upon the cliffs. "I do miss him, but I know he's happier out there."
James was extremely confused. Had he missed something? Why was she so casual about her husband being away at sea for months on end?
"Forgive me for prying, Elizabeth, but how can you be so calm about this? I would have expected you to follow him anywhere."
"You would think so, wouldn't you? I did want to roam the world once upon a time, but I think I had my fair share of adventures. I'd love to get out on the sea again but not exactly in the circumstances where you are constantly afraid for your life." Elizabeth smiled and continued walking down the path.
She noticed that James was not following and she turned back. "James? You look a little lost. Is something wrong?"
"I don't understand at all, Elizabeth. Did something happen between you both? It is highly unusual for a husband to-"
"Oh no!" Elizabeth covered her mouth with one hand. "Oh, James, I'm so so sorry! I didn't even realize but of course you don't know!"
"Know what, Elizabeth?" James was quickly coming to the end of his patience. If something dreadful had happened between the couple, James need only hear a brief explanation and he would be on the next ship available, setting course to wring that ungrateful boy's neck.
"I'm not married, James! We broke it off, not long after you left…"
Norrington frowned. "You…did not get married…."
Elizabeth stepped closer, fervently shaking her head. "No, no I did not marry Will. We decided we both wanted different things out of life."
James was having a difficult time computing this knowledge. "But you're… happy?"
Elizabeth smiled at him, her head slightly tilted. "I am now that you're home."
/
James took a few moments to process what Elizabeth had just told him. He felt a little off-balance. Elizabeth gave him a moment and waited for the questions she was sure he would have.
After a few minutes, James turned to Elizabeth but wasn't sure what he wanted to say. It wasn't his place to pry all the reasons out of her, but he had thought she was happy to marry Turner. He opened his mouth to say something, closed it, opened it again, and finally closed it, turning back to look at the sea, well aware that he probably just did a rather close impersonation of a codfish.
Elizabeth decided to help him out. "I do love Will, but once we stopped running from pirates, or chasing them, as the case often was, I realized that away from all the adventure, I really only loved him like a brother. I wanted a bit of peace and quiet after all that had happened, and a family, and Will… well, I don't think he had finished being a boy, off seeking adventures." Elizabeth shrugged an un-lady-like shrug. "It just seemed to fizzle away…"
James said nothing. He only wanted her to be happy, whatever that meant for her, but he wasn't sure if she was really happy. And what was it she had said when he was still floundering? "I am now that you're home." But what did that mean? Did he still have a chance with her?
Elizabeth moved a bit closer to James. "James… I…" She turned so she was facing him. "I wanted to say I'm sorry. I know I've hurt you more than once. I know how much you have always cared for me despite all the times I pushed you away." She quietly spoke.
"Elizabeth, it's-"
"No, let me finish, please." Elizabeth interrupted. "When I heard you…died… when I realized I would never get a chance to say all this to you…that, that you died without knowing… " Elizabeth trailed off, and tried to calm her swelling emotions. "James, as soon as you returned, I was going to tell you…how sorry I was and how much… how much I hoped you still cared for me. That perhaps, after everything I've done to hurt you, that maybe you would still… " Elizabeth noticed James looked a bit blurry. She blinked away the tears that had shown up uninvited.
"Elizabeth…?" James' question was only a whisper as he took a step closer to her.
"Could you ever forgive me?"
"Elizabeth, I have always forgiven you." James lifted a hand gently to her cheek. "Can I dare to hope that you… you might…"
"Love you?" Elizabeth finished for him, smiling through her tears. "Yes, James. I love you, with all my heart. I always have, you know… I just didn't know it myself most of the time."
James felt everything inside him melt. He gazed deep into her eyes and saw the love shining back. "Elizabeth," he whispered, leaning in, "I have always," he pressed a soft kiss on her temple, "loved you," he kissed her cheek, "as well." Then their lips were together, and everything was right once more.