Title: In Need of Rescuing
Character: Elizabeth Swann
Pairing: Elizabeth/Norrington
Rating: PG
Spoilers: POTC and DMC
Disclaimer: I own nothing - not even the DVDs.
Author's Note: I wrote this over a year ago, forgot about it, and then found it again when I was clearing up my hard drive. It's not too horrible, so I though I'd post it.

She thought she had outgrown her childish ways

She thought she had outgrown her childish ways. Intimacy with pirates often has that effect. No longer did Elizabeth yearn for the romance of the sea; no longer did she believe all pirates were dashing and fascinating. More often than not, they were simply dirty and malodorous. And love, no matter how attractive, how attentive your lover was, was never what you imagined it would be.

But, despite her recent education in the ways of the world, she still clung to a few naïve childhood beliefs and chief among those was the conviction that James Norrington was an honourable man and one who would always be there for her.

Because, of course, he had always been there for her, no matter how badly she treated him. As a child, it was always he who set out to find her when she got lost playing on the beach alone. As much as she hated him for being the one to retrieve her, for proving that she needed rescuing, she felt safe knowing that he would always find her. And he always did. That was what James did: he took care of others, not because he got anything back from them, but because he cared for them.

Even though she may not have shown it of late, she did care for him, in the selfish, offhand manner of one who knows she will always be loved. It hadn't always been like that between them. There were years, many years, where it was James, not Will, who acted as the hero in her fantasies: the handsome Captain, as he was then, arriving at the last minute to save her from certain death at the hands of dastardly pirates, declaring his love and then sailing off with her into the sunset. Such imaginings helped her to pass the many long afternoons of her youth, although they had also led to her being unable to do anything but stammer in the Captain's presence. But by the time she was fully grown, their roles had been reversed. It was now the Captain who stammered out embarrassed greetings and Elizabeth who murmured cool replies. By then, she had transferred her affections to Will Turner, preferring his brown eyes to James' green ones, his softness to the Captain's hardness. Actual love, love that is based on something other than physical adoration, she had not yet discovered. She called infatuation love and worried not over who she hurts. So much of her life still seemed to be make-believe.

Yet that first night aboard the Black Pearl, it was not Will she thought of when she hopefully imagined a rescue. Much to her annoyance, James' was the only face she could bring to mind when she imagined her knight in shining armor. She explains this by reminding herself that Will is not a sailor and so it is only natural that, when held captive at sea, she should think of the only man of her acquaintance who is at home on the ocean. This excuse satisfies her and she is determined to think no more of him.

Eventually, he does come and he does rescue her, but his manner is hardly heroic and, even though she has significantly more important things to worry about just now, she finds herself disappointed. What she takes for granted is that he came. He will always come, she knows this.

What follows is the shortest engagement Port Royal has ever seen. Before Elizabeth even has time to think of the repercussions of her promise, the engagement is cancelled and James is gone, chasing Jack Sparrow around the globe. It is only after several weeks that she realizes she misses him. As a friend, of course. She still has her father and Will, who is more attentive now that ever, almost to the point of annoyance. Being in love with Will, she discovers quickly, is not quite as she had imagined. He is too much a boy, still, to provoke any emotions in her other than mild satisfaction and not-so-mild frustration. She keeps herself busy by planning her wedding to him and lying about prior engagements to avoid his clumsy, soft embraces. But she misses James and finds herself watching the harbour, waiting for him to return.

He doesn't return – not to Port Royal. She is never told the full story but snippets of overheard gossip fill in the blanks nicely. A hurricane. A court marshal. Disgrace. Ruin. Disappearance. The fate of James E. Norrington is sealed, as far as the Royal Navy is concern, and neither Elizabeth nor her father expects to see him in Port Royal again. The tears she cries hearing the news surprise her and she wonders if they are for James or for herself, upon the realization that he's not coming back.

Tortuga is that last place she expected to find him. He is drunk and dirty and smells worse than anything aboard the Black Pearl and even as she hits him over the head, she wants nothing more than to throw her arms around him. This man, this broken, miserable man, bears little resemblance to the James Norrington she knew and yet she finds herself fascinated by him. He is passionate and dashing and fights with words and swords as well as any pirate she has ever met. And, most amazing of all, he knows her, better than any other man. So, even while fighting her confused feelings for Sparrow, she finds herself slipping into old habits with James. Conversations held while strolling on the deck in the afternoon. Card games after dinner, after Jack has drunk too much rum and fallen asleep on the floor. Starlit reminiscences of their first sea journey together. He is not so very different now than he was in Port Royal, not in essentials. More bitter, yes. More damaged, certainly. But he still loves her and she finds that it's not so hard to love him back.

Except then he's gone. Off with the heart (not her heart though, never that) and suddenly she is confused. She feels betrayed, and not for the reasons she should. She knew James could never stay; he'd hunted pirates for too long to be completely comfortable in their company, but she had become accustomed to him. Had liked hearing his deep voice with its vaguely amused tone, as though he was merely tolerating Jack rather than working for him. Had enjoyed watching him watch the sea, his face so much more open than it had even been when watching her. But, more than anything, had liked knowing that he was there. That if something happened, she wouldn't be left alone. Jack never protected her, the thought was laughable, and Will, even when he was there, wasn't always the best at remembering others when engaged in swordplay, but James? He would never forget about her. He would always rescue her and even though she would fight and kick and swear that she was not a woman in need of rescuing, it was nice to know there was someone who wanted to do so.

Because, in so many ways, she still needs rescuing and she knows that James Norrington is the only man she'll ever allow to save her.