Title: Sea Myth
Author: LyraLupin
Ratings: PG
Pairings: Norrington/ Gillette
Genre: Post AWE
Summary: In Greek myth The Nereides were a band of fifty goddess sea nymphs. Not only did they provide sea bounty to fisherman, but they also were the protectors of sailors. This is one of their stories.
In ancient times, when the corners of the world were as mysterious as starlight, sailors who met with revenge and murder upon the ocean's waves could call upon the various sea gods and goddess for intervention and justice. Sometimes the gods answered their prayers, even if they were only whispered by the sailor's heart...
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He did not want to die, but there was really no other choice and then, he was gone.
Consciousness floating in tranquil oblivion, spirit lifting to meld into the anima mundi- the world soul and somewhere beneath the waves, his corporal body covered in blue wool and naval lace sank to the ocean floor. As his flesh rotted somewhere far away from where his spirit hovered, he couldn't remember why golden epaulets had been so important to him once.
And then, in the distance, James Norrington heard a woman's voice.
"But my lord, he was true to you. He has a heart that loves the sea!"
"He is a mortal." A kingly voice boomed.
"A fine sailor whose thread was cut too soon, Lord Poseidon." A new female pleaded.
"A man that loved good and true and yet, his was never returned. Please Amphitrite, beg upon your husband to spare him!" Cried yet another melodic female voice.
In his mind, James remember the sword being trust into his heart, the physical pain of death, the words of Davy Jones and then darkness...
'Am I dead?' His consciousness wondered.
Assessing himself, he felt remarkably good. It were as if he were gently rocking in a warm, silken cocoon as soft hands stroked his face and arms with tender and loving caress. He no longer felt the burden of the physical world; only his spirit resided in his consciousness and light composed his form.
Lifting himself from his cozy, pacific slumber, he forced open his vision.
"He's awake!" Giggle a young woman with swirling ginger hair.
Around him whirled and spun beautiful young women of all shapes and coloring. Their eyes deep blues, greens and turquoises, their breasts as pale as polished marble and their legs...
Ahh!! No legs! They had tails, slippery eel-like tales! Dear god, he had to be hallucinating because he was being molested by mermaids and he was ireally/i enjoying it.
At this thought, there was a myriad of musical laughter which was all quite clear and quite alarming as he now realized he must be deep beneath the ocean's waves. Surrounded by mythical sea people and strange sea beasts; this bizarre oceanic setting appeared to be a courtroom of coral columns and sea- shelled thrones.
'Am I on trial?' He asked, without words to no reply.
James wanted to struggle, to free himself, but as soon he even thought about movement, tentacles of pretty, soft, feminine hands alighted on his chest, his hips and his head pushing him down into the soft, grainy ocean floor. At their tender touch, he forgot about fighting and gave into their pleasant command.
"This is what you want to save?" Asked the deep male voice with contempt.
"Yes," the sea-nymphs sang in unison. "We want him to live!"
The elder merman shook his white-bearded head and then pointing his triton towards James, he commanded. "So be it!"
Suddenly, James' corporal form regained painful consciousness. His head pounded, his chest ripped, his lungs burned with salty sea water. In that instant, he was alive; painfully alive. The gentle hands of the sea-nymphs now raised him from the ocean floor and pushed him away from their comforts and towards the glaring white light of day.
He tried to call out, "No!" He struggled to grasp their hands, but their silken fingers slid through his mortal ones.
He meet his emergence into daylight as a child leaving his mother's warm womb with a terrible cry of sadness and anguish. Gangly legs floundering in the water and infant lungs sputtering for breath, he felt his leadened body being pulled by sea foam towards land.
As his naked feet touched the sandy bottom, he decided there was no use fighting his fate. Prodded by the waves, James Norrington drug himself by his hands and knees onto the shore. His head finally collapsing on the hot, barren sand of land.
For better or for worse; he was alive.
lj-cut