Disclaimer: Okie dokie, if I owned them, I'd have a LOT more money than what I really have. I'm just borrowing them for a little. I'll give them back exactly as they were before... I hope. ;)
This is a first in a quartet of vignettes that may or may not serve as a sort of prologue of a fic I've come up with. I may just leave them to be a little quartet of vignettes. I don't know. But I would like to hear some opinions, if you please! ::smiles::
This and the three vignettes that come after it are dedicated in loving memory to Curtis Peralez, who left this earth January 21, 2004. We love you, Curtis, and we all miss you, even those who never knew you.
*
"Father!"
"What?"
"Commodore, do you really intend to kill my rescuer?"
She had a point, and James knew it. But the man looked entirely too much like a pirate for him to be comfortable letting the man get away without a proper investigation into his occupation. He gave a slight nod, and the weapons were lowered, and the newly made Commodore sheathed his own blade. James stuck out his right hand.
"I believe thanks are in order," he said. The suspected pirate watched James' hand for a moment, then hesitantly offered his own.
James jerked him forward enough to push up the sleeve. The telltale 'P' brand was stark against the man's bronzed skin. "Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we, pirate?"
Governor Swann straightened slightly and said (rather primly, to be admitted), "Hang him."
"Keep your guns on him, men. Gillette, fetch some irons." Whether or not this man had rescued the woman he'd proposed to was nothing but incidental. It was circumstantial, really. This was a pirate, and James was not about to let one infest the city he worked to hard to protect from the likes of this man.
Seeing the edge of another tattoo, he shoved the sleeve up once more. At the sight of that tattoo, James felt sucker punched. Of all the pirates to cross his path, it had to be this one. Of all the pirates to save Elizabeth, it had to be this one. This one!
He let nothing show. He couldn't afford that, particularly not now; he would not show the man who had once been his brother that he, the commanding officer of Fort Charles, lacked a sense of justice. This man deserved to be tried and punished as a pirate, and he would be, brother or not.
Emotions had to take second place in this circumstance, and so did brotherhood.
"Well, well," James said, masking his turmoil fairly well, he thought. "Jack Sparrow, isn't it?" He certainly wasn't Jack Norrington anymore.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, if you please, sir."
The gall! Did he not recognize the man he'd grown up with since the age of five? Or did he not care? Surely he didn't care; he'd abandoned their mother when she needed him most - what did he care about his brother? "Well, I don't see your ship, Captain."
"I'm in the market, as it were." The ever-so-slightly hostile expression on the pirate's face showed that he did, indeed, recognize the uniformed man before him.
"He said he'd come to commandeer one," Murtogg said, looking a bit more somber than what was characteristic. Murtogg was a good man; he was almost the epitome of innocence in the British Royal Navy, really, gullible and naive, and yet totally devoted to his post, commander, and country. Or, in this case, colony.
"I told you he was telling the truth." Mullroy, Murtogg's constant companion, was known to be the brains of the pair, but Murtogg's blunt, almost child-like in honesty, view on the world, as well as circumstances that most men would balk at speaking of, made him just as valuable as his friend. The two counterbalanced each other, really, and James would have had a hard time finding other sailors like them, for all the fact that neither could swim.
"These are his, sir." Mullroy held up a bundle of Jack's well-worn possessions. More than likely stolen from a man who had worked hard to earn them, James thought, and his hatred toward all pirates filled the hollow this particular pirate had made.
He picked up the pistol, and, oddly, found nothing else relating to the weapon. "No additional shot nor powder." He set the pistol back in the bundle and in its place picked up what appeared to be a compass and opened it. "A compass that doesn't point north." He gave the pirate a quick, condescending smirk before moving on to the blade, which he pulled partially out of its sheath. His very forced, and thus slightly derisive looking, smile was just as scornful as his look. "And I half expected it to be made of wood."
It was so much easier to simply mock him than face the fact that this man was once his brother. He shoved the blade back into its sheath.
"You are without a doubt the worst pirate I've ever heard of."
Jack held up two fingers as if to physically point out his verbal comment. "But you have heard of me."
Damn it all, the scum knew the affect those words would have! Of course James had heard of him; he was once his brother!
Angry, he grabbed Sparrow's arm and roughly dragged him to where Lievtenant Gillette stood, irons in hand.
"Commodore, I really must protest!"
Please, Elizabeth, he thought, not now, not this pirate. If you want to save some other pirate, be my guest to try. But not this one.
"Carefully, Lievtenant," he cautioned as he shoved Sparrow over to Gillette.
Elizabeth stationed herself between James and the detained Sparrow. "Pirate or not, this man saved my life."
How truly naive was she? James immediately berated himself for the thought, but deep down he truly couldn't see how such an intelligent woman could be so... naive about the whole situation.
"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness," he said, hoping to make things clear to her. Surely she could see this; it was so obvious!
"Though it seems enough to condemn him," Sparrow interjected. James' eyes hardened.
"Indeed."
Gillette, through with putting the scum in irons, turned back to give his superior reign once more. That was where things went under.
"Finally," Sparrow muttered, and the next thing everyone knew, Elizabeth was at the mercy of a pirate. Guns moved instantly into place as every man moved forward as if to do something, for all there was nothing to be done.
A frantic governor cried, "No. No! Don't shoot!"
"I knew you'd warm up to me," Sparrow hissed. It was then that James was most able to forget that this man had once been his brother - Jack Norrington had been an honorable man who would never be so base as to threaten a defenseless woman. "Commodore Norrington, my effects, please." He quickly added, as if he were afraid James would keep it, "And my hat."
James didn't move. He didn't want to, honestly; he did not want to negotiate with a pirate. But the warning tone in Sparrow's, "Commodore," spurned him into action. He took Sparrow's possessions from Mullroy; his fear for Elizabeth surpassed his unwillingness to negotiate.
"Elizabeth- It is Elizabeth, isn't it?" he heard Sparrow say behind him.
"It's Miss. Swann." Elizabeth was clearly infuriated; she had just tried to save his life, and this was how he thanked her.
The world of piracy, Elizabeth, James thought wryly.
"Miss. Swann, if you'd be so kind." James didn't move, and neither did Elizabeth. "Come, come, dear, we don't have all day," Sparrow said viciously, and with great reluctance, James held the pirate's possessions out to Elizabeth, who took them.
Sparrow grabbed the pistol as Elizabeth took the pirate's possesions in hand, then promptly held it to her head and whirled her around. "Now if you'll be very kind."
Clearly furious, Elizabeth began to assemble the man in his things. She wasn't particularly kind about it, though a strap that went around Sparrow's back put her in the position of a pseudo embrace.
To all appearances, Sparrow couldn't resist leering at James over Elizabeth's shoulder; he had to look away. This was not the man who had once been his brother. This was a pirate, and James was the notorious Pirate Hunter, capital letters and all.
"Easy on the goods, darling."
She viciously finished with her task. "You're despicable."
"Sticks and stones, love. I saved your life. You save mine. We're square."
Sparrow whirled her around again. "Gentlemen, milady," he announced as he began to back away. He wouldn't, James thought with sudden panic. He wouldn't drown her. "You will always remember this as the day you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow!"
Suddenly there was no chain around Elizabeth's neck, and then she was flying at him. James caught her, thanking God that she wasn't hurt or worse, and as they were distracted Sparrow grabbed a rope, kicked a lever, and was suddenly flying up.
Several men tried to grab him, but the cannon on the other end of the rope was much heavier, and he moved up too quickly because of it. The said cannon soon crashed into the dock; one man even fell through the hole.
They recovered quickly, but obviously not quick enough; Sparrow had grabbed another rope and was swinging around wildly, having released a catch that held the boom in place.
"Now will you shoot him?" Swann demanded, as if James was the one who had cried for the men not to shoot just moments before.
James didn't let himself think. He just ordered. "OPEN FIRE!"
Despite the amount of lead thrown at the pirate, he wasn't hit, a fact that vexed James to no end. Sparrow swung onto another boom, one that was still in place.
"On his heels!" James roared, passing Elizabeth onto her father and racing down the docks after the pirate scum.
But the damn pirate was resourceful. Using the chains, he slid down another rope until he could let go and land safely on the ground, and was immediately running. Several of the men shot as Sparrow was running over the bridge.
James knew that he had the best men in the entire Royal Navy stationed with him at Fort Charles. He knew this. But if this was so, then how did every shot sent at the bloody pirate not hit the bastard?!
"Gillette, Mr. Sparrow has a dawn appointment with the gallows." He looked at his second, deciding that he already knew what James wanted him to do, simply because he'd worked with him for so long. "I would hate for him to miss it."
Gillette nodded, then jerked his head toward the men behind them, and they left to make the search.
Had Sparrow not threatened Elizabeth and shown his true nature, James knew that he would not have had it in him to hang the man, because no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it was Jack Sparrow, the fact that he'd once been Jack Norrington always and forever lurked at the back of his mind.
Now that Jack had shown his true self, it made James' upcoming task much easier. As it was, he had a duty to perform. He was the commanding officer, a rank that took a sense of duty, pride and love for country, and dedication. And he was dedicated.
This is a first in a quartet of vignettes that may or may not serve as a sort of prologue of a fic I've come up with. I may just leave them to be a little quartet of vignettes. I don't know. But I would like to hear some opinions, if you please! ::smiles::
This and the three vignettes that come after it are dedicated in loving memory to Curtis Peralez, who left this earth January 21, 2004. We love you, Curtis, and we all miss you, even those who never knew you.
*
"Father!"
"What?"
"Commodore, do you really intend to kill my rescuer?"
She had a point, and James knew it. But the man looked entirely too much like a pirate for him to be comfortable letting the man get away without a proper investigation into his occupation. He gave a slight nod, and the weapons were lowered, and the newly made Commodore sheathed his own blade. James stuck out his right hand.
"I believe thanks are in order," he said. The suspected pirate watched James' hand for a moment, then hesitantly offered his own.
James jerked him forward enough to push up the sleeve. The telltale 'P' brand was stark against the man's bronzed skin. "Had a brush with the East India Trading Company, did we, pirate?"
Governor Swann straightened slightly and said (rather primly, to be admitted), "Hang him."
"Keep your guns on him, men. Gillette, fetch some irons." Whether or not this man had rescued the woman he'd proposed to was nothing but incidental. It was circumstantial, really. This was a pirate, and James was not about to let one infest the city he worked to hard to protect from the likes of this man.
Seeing the edge of another tattoo, he shoved the sleeve up once more. At the sight of that tattoo, James felt sucker punched. Of all the pirates to cross his path, it had to be this one. Of all the pirates to save Elizabeth, it had to be this one. This one!
He let nothing show. He couldn't afford that, particularly not now; he would not show the man who had once been his brother that he, the commanding officer of Fort Charles, lacked a sense of justice. This man deserved to be tried and punished as a pirate, and he would be, brother or not.
Emotions had to take second place in this circumstance, and so did brotherhood.
"Well, well," James said, masking his turmoil fairly well, he thought. "Jack Sparrow, isn't it?" He certainly wasn't Jack Norrington anymore.
"Captain Jack Sparrow, if you please, sir."
The gall! Did he not recognize the man he'd grown up with since the age of five? Or did he not care? Surely he didn't care; he'd abandoned their mother when she needed him most - what did he care about his brother? "Well, I don't see your ship, Captain."
"I'm in the market, as it were." The ever-so-slightly hostile expression on the pirate's face showed that he did, indeed, recognize the uniformed man before him.
"He said he'd come to commandeer one," Murtogg said, looking a bit more somber than what was characteristic. Murtogg was a good man; he was almost the epitome of innocence in the British Royal Navy, really, gullible and naive, and yet totally devoted to his post, commander, and country. Or, in this case, colony.
"I told you he was telling the truth." Mullroy, Murtogg's constant companion, was known to be the brains of the pair, but Murtogg's blunt, almost child-like in honesty, view on the world, as well as circumstances that most men would balk at speaking of, made him just as valuable as his friend. The two counterbalanced each other, really, and James would have had a hard time finding other sailors like them, for all the fact that neither could swim.
"These are his, sir." Mullroy held up a bundle of Jack's well-worn possessions. More than likely stolen from a man who had worked hard to earn them, James thought, and his hatred toward all pirates filled the hollow this particular pirate had made.
He picked up the pistol, and, oddly, found nothing else relating to the weapon. "No additional shot nor powder." He set the pistol back in the bundle and in its place picked up what appeared to be a compass and opened it. "A compass that doesn't point north." He gave the pirate a quick, condescending smirk before moving on to the blade, which he pulled partially out of its sheath. His very forced, and thus slightly derisive looking, smile was just as scornful as his look. "And I half expected it to be made of wood."
It was so much easier to simply mock him than face the fact that this man was once his brother. He shoved the blade back into its sheath.
"You are without a doubt the worst pirate I've ever heard of."
Jack held up two fingers as if to physically point out his verbal comment. "But you have heard of me."
Damn it all, the scum knew the affect those words would have! Of course James had heard of him; he was once his brother!
Angry, he grabbed Sparrow's arm and roughly dragged him to where Lievtenant Gillette stood, irons in hand.
"Commodore, I really must protest!"
Please, Elizabeth, he thought, not now, not this pirate. If you want to save some other pirate, be my guest to try. But not this one.
"Carefully, Lievtenant," he cautioned as he shoved Sparrow over to Gillette.
Elizabeth stationed herself between James and the detained Sparrow. "Pirate or not, this man saved my life."
How truly naive was she? James immediately berated himself for the thought, but deep down he truly couldn't see how such an intelligent woman could be so... naive about the whole situation.
"One good deed is not enough to redeem a man of a lifetime of wickedness," he said, hoping to make things clear to her. Surely she could see this; it was so obvious!
"Though it seems enough to condemn him," Sparrow interjected. James' eyes hardened.
"Indeed."
Gillette, through with putting the scum in irons, turned back to give his superior reign once more. That was where things went under.
"Finally," Sparrow muttered, and the next thing everyone knew, Elizabeth was at the mercy of a pirate. Guns moved instantly into place as every man moved forward as if to do something, for all there was nothing to be done.
A frantic governor cried, "No. No! Don't shoot!"
"I knew you'd warm up to me," Sparrow hissed. It was then that James was most able to forget that this man had once been his brother - Jack Norrington had been an honorable man who would never be so base as to threaten a defenseless woman. "Commodore Norrington, my effects, please." He quickly added, as if he were afraid James would keep it, "And my hat."
James didn't move. He didn't want to, honestly; he did not want to negotiate with a pirate. But the warning tone in Sparrow's, "Commodore," spurned him into action. He took Sparrow's possessions from Mullroy; his fear for Elizabeth surpassed his unwillingness to negotiate.
"Elizabeth- It is Elizabeth, isn't it?" he heard Sparrow say behind him.
"It's Miss. Swann." Elizabeth was clearly infuriated; she had just tried to save his life, and this was how he thanked her.
The world of piracy, Elizabeth, James thought wryly.
"Miss. Swann, if you'd be so kind." James didn't move, and neither did Elizabeth. "Come, come, dear, we don't have all day," Sparrow said viciously, and with great reluctance, James held the pirate's possessions out to Elizabeth, who took them.
Sparrow grabbed the pistol as Elizabeth took the pirate's possesions in hand, then promptly held it to her head and whirled her around. "Now if you'll be very kind."
Clearly furious, Elizabeth began to assemble the man in his things. She wasn't particularly kind about it, though a strap that went around Sparrow's back put her in the position of a pseudo embrace.
To all appearances, Sparrow couldn't resist leering at James over Elizabeth's shoulder; he had to look away. This was not the man who had once been his brother. This was a pirate, and James was the notorious Pirate Hunter, capital letters and all.
"Easy on the goods, darling."
She viciously finished with her task. "You're despicable."
"Sticks and stones, love. I saved your life. You save mine. We're square."
Sparrow whirled her around again. "Gentlemen, milady," he announced as he began to back away. He wouldn't, James thought with sudden panic. He wouldn't drown her. "You will always remember this as the day you almost caught Captain Jack Sparrow!"
Suddenly there was no chain around Elizabeth's neck, and then she was flying at him. James caught her, thanking God that she wasn't hurt or worse, and as they were distracted Sparrow grabbed a rope, kicked a lever, and was suddenly flying up.
Several men tried to grab him, but the cannon on the other end of the rope was much heavier, and he moved up too quickly because of it. The said cannon soon crashed into the dock; one man even fell through the hole.
They recovered quickly, but obviously not quick enough; Sparrow had grabbed another rope and was swinging around wildly, having released a catch that held the boom in place.
"Now will you shoot him?" Swann demanded, as if James was the one who had cried for the men not to shoot just moments before.
James didn't let himself think. He just ordered. "OPEN FIRE!"
Despite the amount of lead thrown at the pirate, he wasn't hit, a fact that vexed James to no end. Sparrow swung onto another boom, one that was still in place.
"On his heels!" James roared, passing Elizabeth onto her father and racing down the docks after the pirate scum.
But the damn pirate was resourceful. Using the chains, he slid down another rope until he could let go and land safely on the ground, and was immediately running. Several of the men shot as Sparrow was running over the bridge.
James knew that he had the best men in the entire Royal Navy stationed with him at Fort Charles. He knew this. But if this was so, then how did every shot sent at the bloody pirate not hit the bastard?!
"Gillette, Mr. Sparrow has a dawn appointment with the gallows." He looked at his second, deciding that he already knew what James wanted him to do, simply because he'd worked with him for so long. "I would hate for him to miss it."
Gillette nodded, then jerked his head toward the men behind them, and they left to make the search.
Had Sparrow not threatened Elizabeth and shown his true nature, James knew that he would not have had it in him to hang the man, because no matter how many times he tried to convince himself that it was Jack Sparrow, the fact that he'd once been Jack Norrington always and forever lurked at the back of his mind.
Now that Jack had shown his true self, it made James' upcoming task much easier. As it was, he had a duty to perform. He was the commanding officer, a rank that took a sense of duty, pride and love for country, and dedication. And he was dedicated.