Shora: Hello! This is a Norington/OFC fanfiction, so don't read if you don't like. And expect some hotness later on…so…yeah…ENJOY!
James Norrington walked along the dirt street, near the unused blacksmith's forge. He smiled to himself, remembering the last time he fought Turner. By the end of it, they were both too dizzy walk. But he did get the heart out of the deal, which, in turn, had re-instated him as commodore. He felt good, back in his uniform. But he had long forgotten the wig. Thing was a damn nuisance. But, he relented and shaved, much to his chagrin, and revealed that he was even gaunter then before, if that was possible. He glanced up into the night sky, the stars bright. He stopped before an alleyway, marveling at the moon, and remembered how clear it was when he was on the Pearl…..the Pearl. He honestly missed that pirate, Jack Sparrow. About a day before he reached Port Royal, he felt like something bad had happed to the dreadlock-clad drunkard.
His train of thought was interrupted by a small sob, a woman's sob, from the alleyway off to his right.
"Hello?" His aristocratic accent seemed out of place in an alley.
"Monsieur, please help us. My little girl, she's sick, dying. And I have broken my ankle. If I do not get her to a doctor, she will die." A rich voice, a French woman's voice said from the back of the alley, her words laden with sadness and worry. Norrington walked into the alley, unsure where the woman was. He didn't get much warning, just a snapping of a twig, and the rustle of cloth, before he had a knife pressed to his throat, and the voice in his ear, chuckling.
"You are too trusting Monsieur." The warm breath on his ear made him tremble.
"If you want my billfold, take it. It's in my right pocket." He said, glad that he didn't put much money in if after he got robbed his first night in Tortuga.
The chuckle that greeted his ear just deepened his fear. "I don't want the billfold, Commodore Norrington. Yes I know who you are." The voice said after his shock that the woman knew his name. "I do not intend to kill you, but if you do not comply with my needs, I will not hesitate to blow your brains out."
Norrington nodded, afraid to say anything. "Good man, I need you to arrest me, put the shackles on me, then take me to the docks. Can a lapdog such as you understand that?" Norrington gritted his teeth at the insult, and nodded. He felt the knife at his neck disappear, and he turned around, only to have the breath taken out of his body again. In front of his stood a woman, tall, with long flying brown hair, pulled off of her face with a multi-colored bandanna, a single charm dangling down coming to rest on his fine aristocratic cheekbones, her hazel eyes ablaze with a fiery light, he tore his gaze away from her eyes and looked her up and down. A green bodice, paled and worn with years of wear on the sea, an equally used pale blue top, opened to show ample breasts, cinched at her waist, and tucked into a pair of deep black pants, witch pantaloon over a pair of big, thick boots, which went up to her knees. His eyes went back to her face, to discover that they had a heavy amount of eyeliner on, and dark red lipstick, with pale green powder above her eyes. He realized that she had her pistol out, and he glanced down and saw an impressive array of weapons dangling from her belt. His eyes immidetleily went to a long, tin, French sword dangling from her belt, hitting against her thigh. His view of her weapon was cut short by her turning around, pistol in hand and putting her hands behind her back. He pulled the shackles out from his own belt, and locked them on her fine, delicate wrists, only to have the pistol in the most sensitive area of his person.
"Just in case…" she whispered, as if she had read his mind regarding the pistol. "If you need to know…my name is Simone Alain." She said, her French accent ghosting over the syllabicates, as if she wasn't used to saying her own name. He nodded, and led her out of the alley, and past the lighted shops, where she put up quite a struggle, cursing him loudly in French, the shouts of Conard, and Merde echoing loudly off of the shop sides.
"James! What have you got there?" The governor's voice came from behind him. He felt the pistol increase its pressure, and heard it being cocked. Best to lie.
"Just a pirate. I'm going to give back to France. We can't touch her." James said, starting to walk forward.
"Fine by me, but have you asked her what Capitan she is serving under? I know you speak French." The governor asked, pushing a curl back from his wig.
"I did. She said someone called Alain. Simone Alain." Norrington subsitiuated her name for her Captains.
"Take her…But be careful, the woman trained under Alain are vicious, and Alain herself is said to be possed by the devil. That not even Turner or that Jack fellow could match her skills with a sword." With his two-bit put in, he gave a traditional salute and turned before Norrington could return it.
The rest of the trip to the dock was uneventful, sans the occasional curse from Simone. When he saw the dock, he felt Simone speed up, and head toward a certain ship, a black one, with no colors flying. Like the Pearl. The very comparison was enough to make him think twice about boarding. He followed Simone up the plank, uneasy if he should just let her go now. As is she red his thoughts again, he felt the pistol press against him even harder, and felt her lead him to the main cabin. He reached forward and opened the door, and was lead inside.
"Un-shackle me." She said, her voice curt. He complied, and when he did, felt the sharp but of the pistol connect with his skull. And then everything went black.
"Semaine de Yes?.One. Vont l'homme les voiles."
Along with the creaking of a ship was what meets Norringtion's ears when he came back to conciousious. He managed to translate it into: "What? One week. Go man the sails. Yes." He didn't hear the other part of the conversation, seeing that it was in a lower voice. He stood up shakily, and was meet with a barrel between his eyes. "L'séjour, ou moi toujours tirent." The woman who was holding the gun said. He didn't know what that meant, but assumed it meant: stay there. He complied. He sat down on the chair as the blonde girl went to the door and shouted outside. "CAPTIAN ALAIN ! IL EST ÉVEILLÉ !"
He groaned. He was pretty much ilitrate when it came to French. He saw a shadow by the door, and saw Simone walk in.
"Simone oh thank god it's you! I need to get back to Port Royal, so if you could just take me back there, I'll forget that this-" he met with her sword against his throat. Governor Swan was right. He didn't even see it being unsheathed.
"Do you think that I am just going to give you up, commodore? You are now a member of my crew, and will serve under me until we find what I am looking for." Norrington rolled his eyes.
"If your looking for the chest of Davy Jones, we already found that." The pressure on his throat increased, the fine steel blade cutting into his flesh, the warm blood trickling down his neck.
"Laissez-nous"At that command the blonde woman that was his guard left the room, leaving him alone with the woman who was supposedly possed by Satan himself. Norrigton begin to sweat. Simone took her sword from his neck and handed him a clean cloth from her belt, which he gladly accepted. "Merci." She nodded, wiping her sword and sheathing it, sitting down.
"I am not hunting for the chest, or for Aztec gold, or anything like that. I am hunting for a person. Jack Sparrow. I have not seen him in months and I need to talk to him. Where is he?" Simone said, licking eyes with Norrington.
James shivered. Her eyes were dead. Like someone without a soul. "I sailed with him for a few weeks. Nothing more." He said, hoping against hope that she wouldn't see his lie.
Simone leaned forward, her dark eyes narrowing, flaring with anger. He saw her hand creep toward her hilt, and prayed to any God that existed that he would intervene. Then the silence was broken by a powerful knock. Simone answered the door.
"Qu'est-ce que c'est ? Un bateau ? Quelles sont les couleurs ? Aucun ? Êtes-vous sûr ? Positif ? Bon travail."
Simone looked down, and then motioned to Norrington and he followed her on deck. She handed him a spyglass and pointed to a ship in the distance. "See if you recognize anyone on that ship."
Norrington complied and looked though. At first it appeared to be deserted, but then he saw a familiar back, then the body turned around. It was Turner. He gave Simone back the spyglass and turned to her. "I know that back. It's William Turner-"
Before he could get an explanation Simone was off and running and shouting directions to her crew, whom, Norrington noticed, was compromised only of females.
"Battez le pavillon blanc ! Soyez armé dans le case!Prepare pour embarquer ! Déplacez son droit !"
Norrington approached Simone, who was talking to a crewmember. The member stared at him, wide-eyed and slack-jawed, and ran to the port side, giggling. "That boy, Turner, he's Jack Sparrow's closest friend." He told Simone as he followed her down into the hold. He looked around him. This ship was French through and through. He jumped as his sword was pushed into his arms.
"All the better." She said as she climbed the ladder and stood on the railing of her ship, hair flying, jaw set, hand on the hilt of her sword. By that time Turner's ship and noticed them and the flag and was slowing down.
They all heard a distant voice from the ship cry: "Who are you and what is your business with us?" James felt his whole body stiffen at the mere sound of Turner's voice.
"I am Simone Alain, Capitan of the Règne De La Terreur, and I need to speak with anyone abroad that ship who has had any contact with Jack Sparrow!" Simone yelled back, the volume lessens as the pulled right aside the other ship. Norrington could see that Turner wasn't the only one on that ship.
Turner turned to face other members of the ship, indistinct blobs, and then faced Simone.
"You can come aboard, but only if you arrive unarmed. Captain's orders." Norrington heard a gasp. He saw a shorthaired blonde girl go up next to Simone, and mutter: "Capitian Alain, je n'aime pas ceci. Je ne lui fais pas confiance."
Simone didn't reply, she just took off her belt, grabbed a rope and swung over the side of her ship, throwing back the rope. The blonde one caught it, only to be reprimanded by a sharp: "Aucun Veronica, pas vous, il."
The blonde woman merely nodded and passed the rope to Norrington, who swung himself over onto the other ship.
Conard, and Merde: Bastard and Shit.
"Semaine de Yes?.One. Vont l'homme les voiles.": Yes? One week. No. Go man the sails.
"L'séjour, ou moi toujours tirent." : You move and I shoot.
"CAPTIAN ALAIN ! IL EST ÉVEILLÉ !": Capitian Alain! He's awake!
"Laissez-nous": Leave us
. "Merci." : Thanks.
"Qu'est-ce que c'est ? Un bateau ? Quelles sont les couleurs ? Aucun ? Êtes-vous sûr ? Positif ? Bon travail.": A ship? What are the colors? None? Are you sure? Positive? Good work.
"Battez le pavillon blanc ! Soyez armé dans le case!Prepare pour embarquer ! Déplacez son droit !": Fly the white flag! Be armed just in case! Prepare to board! Move her Starboard!
"Capitian Alain, je n'aime pas ceci. Je ne lui fais pas confiance.":Capitian Alain, I don't like this. How can we trust them.
"Aucun Veronica, pas vous, il.": No Veronica, not you, Him.