Ok, everyone who sounds unfamiliar is mine while everyone else is Disney and more importantly, Ted and Terry's...awesome guys who actually care about fans!
This was written for Brigittchen in about three days so not my best work, hehe, but she asked nicely.
"We pillage, we plunder, we rifle and loot. Drink up me 'earties, Yo Ho!" sang Jack in a corner of the Faithful Bride. It wasn't that bad of a way to spend his forty-third birthday although he could think of a few ways that it could be better.
"Jack!" called a voice he recognized, but still felt the need to correct.
"Captain! Captain Jack Sparrow," the younger man responded, "And by what influence did you invite yourself to my festivities, Malibut?"
The man grinned and leaned against Jack's table with a grin that revealed not only silver and gold but gaps as well.
'I brought you a present that should be well to your liking," explained the pirate in his own way and Jack tried to guess what the louse could mean.
"A present of the female persuasion perhaps?"
"Not quite…," answered Malibut and he snapped his fingers for two of his crew to come forward. They laid an extremely large, long sack heavily beside Jack's chair. An inquisitive look was passed Malibut's way before Jack undid the string and peered inside the bag. What he saw was enough to make him gasp…it was Commodore Norrington with scruff across his faces, cuts and blood that had not completely dried as well as a pervading smell of rum.
"Captain?" asked Gibbs, reminding Jack of where he was. There was no choice but to accept the gift.
"You like?" Malibut questioned, anxiously.
"I believe the proper words haven't been invented as of yet," Jack replied, drained the last of his bottle and turned to Gibbs, "Help me move my present aboard the Pearl." Malibut appeared satisfied as an evil expression crossed the man's face that completely explained Norrington's condition.
By the time, Jack and Gibbs had reached his personal quarters, he felt sure that Gibbs had figured out what was in the bag…just not who. Jack once again untied the strings as quick as possible and Gibbs' reaction mirrored his earlier one.
"Commodore?" he gasped in recognition and inquired, "He is still of this world?"
"Yes," Jack answered, pulling the covering off the unconscious man, "and he should stay that way I'd wager."
Unless…and that was what he left unsaid for Gibbs' benefit. He knew Gibbs had a history with the man who had chased them almost as soon as they left Port Royal. Still, there didn't appear to be any major injuries or blood loss.
"What shall you do with him?"
"I don't know," Jack admitted. Here was his former adversary at his mercy and Jack was not happy about it…which surprised him.
"Captain, if there's nothing to be done…nothing that I could do…" started Gibbs and Jack agreed, "Go!"
Gibbs was up to something yet Jack knew it wouldn't cause trouble. Then, there was a sharp intake of breath and he saw that Norrington was waking up. Immediately, the man coughed and tried to roll over but couldn't. The green eyes wandered the room before settling on Jack.
"You," Norrington croaked with hatred emanating from every inch.
"Mate, you might as well enjoy the free lodgings," Jack offered, "That's a nasty beating you took from Malibut."
Norrington stretched out his hands which raised him off the ground. However, he was forced to fall back from the pain. The sight gave Jack no pleasure which annoyed him. Shouldn't he be thrilled at the Commodore's condition? Maybe it was the tales…the rumors of what Malibut was fully capable of. They regarded one another until Jack made out footsteps on the deck. He drew his gun, cocked it and raised it at his side before the steps became familiar. After just a few light knocks, Jack opened the door to reveal AnaMaria with a bucket and a bundle of clothes.
"What's this Gibbs mentioned about you needing me onship with clean cloths and water?" she squawked before seeing Norrington, "And who be this?"
"This be Commodore Norrington…" started Jack, but was interrupted by a "No" The Captain tossed him an incredulous look; was the man actually promoted?
"Admiral Norrington?" he said in an unsure manner and Norrington once again rasped, "No."
What was this man playing at? However, Norrington's expression had softened into rejection.
"Captain?" asked Jack and was met by a shake of the head. Pity filled the older man even though he tried not to show it as he continued, "Just Norrington then, or perhaps James?"
Not even an annoyed glance from the former Commodore, this was worse than Jack had thought and brought back uncomfortable memories of his own past.
"Luv, if you could be so kind…" Jack stated and motioned toward Norrington, "He appears to have need of a more feminine touch than I could provide."
AnaMaria's brown eyes narrowed and her lip stuck out in a defiance that would never come. She never so much as spoke up against him anymore…a bit on the boring side actually. There was nothing that made him want a woman more than a woman slapping him across the cheek. With a grin, he let himself out. He should still be able to catch up with Giselle or Scarlett…or perhaps both. His grin grew larger.
James was not happy with this situation. His hair felt like the only part of the body that didn't hurt and his thoughts kept drifting to what had happened. It struck him how he was alone in Sparrow's quarters with AnaMaria. He knew her even if she didn't recognize him. Every member of the Black Pearl's crew was etched into his brain from nine months of searching, chasing and trying to outwit them.
"Captain's orders," she mumbled and came toward him, setting her items on the floor. James knew what was coming next. He felt like a baby and he hated it, but he was as helpless as an infant…it hurt to move. The young woman took his coat and gingerly plied it off him. Then, she did the same with his shirt so that only his breeches remained because Malibut had…had already stripped him of his underwear. The blood in his body seemed to rush to his face as she undid the two buttons that held his breeches on. AnaMaria had no such embarrassment. Maybe that came with being onboard a ship of men for months at a time. However, she did frown when pulling the fabric off of his arse. They were both covered in blood and he knew that she knew why. There was a moment of hesitation before she pulled the breeches the rest of the way off. James tensed at being naked in front of her. It certainly wasn't proper, but nothing was these days.
"I was not fully prepared for this," admitted AnaMaria, standing up and going to Sparrow's bedside, "There is not much to do except wait for everything to heal."
Despite her words, her actions spoke of one fully capable. He wondered why she stayed instead of having her own ship…her sex and color would be a problem, but…she didn't strike him as one who'd give up so easily. A rum bottle was passed to him and the dark liquid passed down his parched throat. He coughed and found the thought demanded to be voice aloud.
"Why do you stay with him?"
There was a pause in her actions before she responded, "Captain Jack Sparrow is a good man."
"Convicted of crimes against the empire," James added. Her stance turned rigid as she argued, "But who is there to convict the empire of crimes against humanity?"
The outburst took him by surprise, were there separate private and public personas?
"Your king condones slavery; my people taken from their homes and sold as cattle. As I stand before you, can you tell me that I am less human than you?"
He shook his head softly like he had when he was a boy and his mum had caught him in a lie.
"Aye," she spat and set the set of clothes closer, but part of him didn't want her to go, didn't want to be alone in the dark.
"But your feelings are more than those who work closely together" said James which stopped her.
"What gives you that idea?" she questioned in a way that confirmed his suspicions as truth. She was in love with Jack Sparrow.
"I am also doomed to love someone who will never love me back," explained James, "Elizabeth Swann…soon to be Elizabeth Turner." His words came easier now and the rum was starting to work. He drank some more and her brown eyes were kind. No one had mentioned how pretty she really was. It was a fleeting thought as she bent down and drank some of the rum herself.
"He loves her more," AnaMaria complained with a turn of the head downwards, "His Pearl." She was still a moment before taking a rag and the bucket and starting on his shoulders. Sleep came eventually so he wasn't aware when she stole out the door.
Dreams came without thought and without problem until early the next morning when the sky still shone purple. That's when the nightmares began.
"Commodore…the winds…they've picked up further!" cried Gillette as the heavens poured rain as though it would not stop for forty days and forty nights. He didn't even notice his uniform which was so soaked that the water ran down it because the fabric was no longer able to hold any more liquid. Then, Governor Swann appeared, "James, what have you done?"
The older man wore a frown and his entire demeanor was one of disappointment before he turned and walked away, disappearing into the air.
"Governor? Governor!" James called with no response for a few seconds until he heard laughing. A high pitched maniacal laughter came from behind and James twisted to see Malibut with his shirt undone.
"Come here, my pet…," he leered and began to pull down his pants.
"Noo!" screamed James, waking himself up. Beside him was a new full bottle of rum and he was dressed in fresh clothes. AnaMaria must have done both. He tentatively rose up and was met with much less pain so he could actually crawl over to the bed and pull himself up before releasing the pressure on his bladder. James had just fastened the right button on his pants when the door opened by Sparrow's doing.
"Quite the day, aye?" asked Sparrow. Inside James, something just snapped.
"I nearly had you all off Tripoli. I would've, if not for the hurricane," James hissed at the older man. Jack began to laugh as though James had made a joke. It wasn't the least bit funny. He reached down and grabbed Jack's gun. Without hesitation, he cocked the pistol and aimed it at Jack who became silent.
"You're not laughing," noticed James, his finger poised in position.
"Do it," urged Jack as though he wasn't capable of it, "This is the day you've been dreaming of…right?" James was fully capable. He just needed a second to collect his thoughts. It was still going to be done, he could do it…thought James with the gun pointed at Sparrow's head except…he couldn't do it. This wasn't the way it was supposed to end and it didn't seem right. The gun seemed to move down of its own accord and Jack took it.
"Let me go," James pleaded to his captor. Jack swung door open and held it.
"Be my guest, mate," he said and nodded towards the outside. Seeing his opportunity, James walked, a bit drunkenly, toward the brightening sky and fell onto the wooden planks.
"So, it would seem," James grumbled before making an effort to get up. Then, a hand took his and helped him up. It belonged to AnaMaria.
"Breakfast," she explained with a shrug, holding a basket.
"Time to go;" said Jack, stepping past them and stopping just long enough to add, "Don't let him near a gun." The woman had a curious expression as she looked from Jack to himself, but she let go of his hand. He noticed that he felt disappointed at that. As soon as Jack was out of earshot, James stated, "He's why you stay." She didn't answer although he still felt bad for everything she'd done and not being able repay her. James reached down to help with the basket where his fingers came into contact with hers. They both shared an awkward, nervous laugh and he pulled his hand back.
"The Black Pearl is due to leave port the day after next," AnaMaria explained as she walked into the cabin and James followed. He was still a bit unsteady so he sat on the bed. AnaMaria set the basket down beside him and he couldn't resist the temptation to touch her hand again. It wasn't as soft as Elizabeth's but it was nice.
'I should go" she argued yet gave him a long look and commented, "the aloe is for your wounds" before leaving him alone. The basket was full of goodies, including slightly fresh bread, more rum and strange, sticky green things that must be aloe. He touched the sticky end and it wasn't unpleasant. The consistency reminded him of a salve so he began spreading it on various scrapes and wounds. Then, he wondered whether it would work everywhere so he tried there as well and it did feel better. James lay against the bed and feel asleep again. This time, it was without dreams, or at least none that he recalled later, and when he woke, the light was once again dim. It was twilight. Yet, what was the difference between waking and sleeping? His conscious mind was just as busy with replaying memories and possibilities and what might have been. How had he reached this place? Only a month or two ago, he was still chasing Sparrow and Commodore of the Royal Navy. Now he was drunk and staying in Sparrow's quarters; beaten and humiliated. His ships were nothing but timbers on the sea floor, his post was resigned in Governor Swann's foyer and his sword locked away in what used to be his office. He'd never see it again, but it wasn't just that. Sparrow hadn't tried to kill him. Why? Why hadn't he tried to kill him? Why had he seemed to care about James' well-being? He was a pirate. Pirates were creatures without morals or so he had always thought. James drank some more and something mixed wrong. He threw up. Then, he drunk some more. Maybe he'd fall sleep again and forget. Between his self pity and the rum, his senses were dulled so he didn't notice that someone had entered until the bottle was taken from him. AnaMaria drank some herself and placed it on a nearby flat surface.
"You were bloody right," she conceded, "I stay for a man whose real love…I could never compete with."
"And mine is due to be married," he said and guessed that her expression mirrored his, "Absolutely hopeless."
"Always the same forever," she whispered and came closer to him, "Sometimes I wish I could sail away…forever…all the foreign lands."
"Every place I've ever heard of like Singapore or New Holland," James agreed in an equally excited tone before leaning over in a swift motion and kissing her. Their lips met for less than a minute and James pulled away. Why had he done that? It wasn't right and must have been due to the influence of the rum except that AnaMaria looked undeniably hurt.
"Did you remember the color of my skin? Or that I'm not the right class?" she asked, starting to get up. James grabbed her hand to stop her and corrected those insinuations, "I hold no title. My class is as low as can be. No, I was being too forward and improper for such a…beautiful young woman."
She was beautiful from her dark hair to her bright brown eyes to her skin that was permanently sun-kissed. James rather hoped that his expression was still calm and reserved and that it hadn't become foolish as he waited for the young woman's response. It came in the form of a kiss as she continued what he had started and if she had no worries about propriety, why should he? He decided to follow her lead as the kiss deepened and she combed her fingers through his hair that had grown out considerably since leaving Port Royal. Tentatively, he touched her face and stroked her cheek with his thumb. Then, she let go of his hair in order to undo her top button and placed his hands upon her breasts. The full moon provided ample light for what followed.
James woke to the sound of the cabin door opening and had barely enough time to cover their nakedness. Beside him, AnaMaria slept soundly as Jack entered with what quickly turned into a grin as he looked over the situation.
"Better spirits this morning, I expect?" asked Jack, coming closer, "I would have preferred if it hadn't been done in my bed, but make do with what you have, eh?"
James didn't dignify that with a response. He hated the knowing smile on Jack's face and the fact that he'd been caught.
"What was your purpose here in Tortuga, mate?" Jack questioned, "Kill me for a return of your commission, drink yourself into the grave or were you thinking of turning pirate yourself?"
"Never," James growled from his sitting up position on the bed.
"This seems vaguely familiar," Jack commented, "but pirates are not entirely the bleak picture you paint us as. Think about it: Sailing all over the world…anywhere you want, no propriety or worries of what others may think, no obligations or rules except those laid down by your crew…freedom."
"And attacking civilians? Destroying ships? Raiding and pillaging and raping? Is that what freedom also entails?"
Jack's grin faltered but he was known for his quick wit just as James was, "What some consider in their definition of freedom need not be everyone's. A man needs to decide that for himself."
The weird thing was that his words made sense and James hated that as well. Then, AnaMaria yawned and he saw her eyes widen as she saw Jack. She pulled the cloth tighter around her.
"We're not so different as you'd like to think. Are you certain that no civilian was harmed in one of your crusades against pirates? No legal merchant vessels? And you succeeded in what no pirate could…you sunk the Dauntless all by your onesies."
James gnashed his teeth. There was no good reply to that. It was the simple truth. Jack knew he'd won from the way he smiled before exclaiming, "Ta!" and leaving again. AnaMaria clutched his arm and lay her head against his chest which made him feel better, but after a quick peck on the cheek, she exited the bed.
"Where are you going?"
"I'll return," she said with a more lighthearted quality than he remembered. He couldn't imagine what she was feeling for the man she was in love with to see her with another. If the situation had been reversed, James would have been absolutely mortified.
However, she was true to her word and returned less than an hour later with what looked like heavier pockets and a wooden cane.
"For you," AnaMaria explained, giving it to him, "I'm leaving."
James felt as if he'd just been punched in the stomach. Then, last night really had meant nothing even though it had meant something to him, the more he thought about it.
"I have enough for my own ship, just a tad larger than the Jolly Mon was," she continued, taking his hand, "and I want you to come with me."
"What?"
"Let them have their loves," said AnaMaria and she squeezed his hand she finished, "Let us make our own."
The idea was incredibly tempting, but was he even capable? He really wasn't sure what he was capable of since everything had happened. James hadn't even been able to pull the trigger on Sparrow. Could he embrace a new life?
"What happened this morning…it freed me. His eyes held no jealousy in them. If anything, he looked happy for me so there is no future for me here," she rambled on a bit, "but that decision is before you. I set sail at Midnight tonight. If you care to join me, come before then…aye?"
His hand was let go and he could tell that she wasn't convinced what he would choose before she asked in a soft voice, "Do you know the reason that Sparrow was first branded a pirate?"
"Only Lord Beckett and Sparrow are privy to that."
"And me," AnaMaria corrected and before she had disappeared through the doorway added, "It's up to you."
Was he seriously considering joining AnaMaria? He wanted to. There was a very bad need to move on, but it would mean letting go of his past, his regrets, his preconceptions. He would be turning his back on civilized society forever. All his life he had been bred and taught to act a certain way. Was it possible that he had been taught wrong, that there was more than one way to live a life?
However, anything would be better than the walking death he had been living. He honestly didn't know what had possessed him to come to Tortuga except that he couldn't go back to England and face his parents or his brother with his perfect wife and their perfect children. Yet, he had spent most of his time on Tortuga in taverns, drowning one bottle after another. Was it to mask the pain or was he trying to hasten death?
If it was death that he was looking for, he almost found it. James was caught unawares because his mind was full of drink when strong hands gripped his shoulders while another hand struck him in the head so he fell unconscious. When he came to, he was in a dank room that rocked so must have been aboard a ship. His hands and feet were bound. Then, he was beaten almost senseless as the man that Jack had called Malibut watched and James could tell that Malibut enjoyed every minute. Eventually, the men had been ordered to stop, but that's when Malibut came closer and ordered James' bonds cut. James was too sore to move or protest as the man removed his clothes, including underwear. Then, Malibut had ordered his men to leave and pulled off his pants. His excitement wasn't just evident on his face. James finally passed out as the man was in the middle of violating him and woke up on the Black Pearl in Sparrow's cabin.
Yet Jack had given him a place to stay and made sure he was taken care of despite his trying to kill Sparrow on more than one occasion. He had never had any history with Malibut and the man abused him in every sense. What had made the difference? The easiest solution was distasteful. Sparrow couldn't be a pirate and a good man. However, he was in the best position to figure that out. He was in Sparrow's quarters without Sparrow. Using the cane, James made it to the door and looked out to see that they hadn't even begun loading for tomorrow's departure. Good, he had time. He began looking through Sparrow's papers…not quite sure what he was looking for. Hours later, he had come to realize that there much more to it than just attacking ships and he hadn't known Sparrow as well as he thought he had. Sparrow had kept meticulous records of attacks, items portioned out and extremely detailed maps. Then, he found it. It was papers that had once been the private property of Cutler Beckett. All of the papers were dated 1713 and he began to read. The warrant for Sparrow's arrest was obscure; the reason listed was jettisoning cargo that was the property of the East India Trading Company and never able to be recovered. The cargo was valued at 12,862 pounds. The value sounded high to James and he looked through the papers to find a list of the cargo. It confirmed his sinking suspicions…two hundred individuals listed with their sex, age and what they were expected to sell for. Another idea struck him and he anxiously scanned the list until he found: F 15 years 82 pounds and beside it was written, in what he recognized as Beckett's handwriting, AnaMaria.
Jack had been branded a pirate for doing what was right. He was a good man after all. AnaMaria was a good woman and with time, he could picture himself learning to love her. James felt different around her than he had Elizabeth, AnaMaria made him want to do things. Warm memories of the previous night resurfaced and he looked out the window at the horizon with hope.
Jack walked along the water with Scarlett and Giselle under each arm that night. The moonlight revealed a boat drifting off from the port and he watched in curiosity which was only enhanced when he recognized the figures on it. James and AnaMaria were sailing away. He smiled and took a swig from his rum bottle before moving his hands to lower positions on Scarlett and Giselle's backs.
On June 11, 1727, King George the First died. It was a fact that was completely ignored by James Norrington as he sat on a deserted beach on an equally uninhabited island near New Holland. His beard was full, his hair long and he was just wearing his breeches. AnaMaria was also wearing less clothing although she otherwise looked almost the same. Technically, the boat had been purchased by her which made AnaMaria captain so she had been the one to marry them after they had made it through the Drake Passage.
"Come on, Joshua!" he called, but the three-month-old had no interest in crawling yet. He preferred sitting so James gave in and picked him up.
"He's stubborn like his father," commented AnaMaria before kissing him on the lips.
"Oh, is that it?" asked James in a playful tone and she nodded. Joshua Norrington just laughed in his high-pitched manner and it was one of those moments that didn't feel real to James. It was too perfect and the few times that Elizabeth ever crossed his mind anymore was to hope that she had found as much happiness as he had.
Yes, there are three Coupling references, couldn't resist, mate.