Title: The Second Betrayal.
Rating: K+ to be on the safe side.
Pairings: Nothing explicit, there's a minor reference to Davy Jones/Calypso and a very slight hint of Norrington/Elizabeth.
Summary: After stealing the heart of Davy Jones, Norrington was adrift at sea for quite some time before he was found by the EITC. Exhausted and falling in and out of consciousness, Norrington begins to dream of Jones's past. However, it becomes clear that these images are so much more than dreams and Norrington gains insight into a side of Jones long forgotten. ONESHOT.
[This is obviously set towards the end of Dead Man's Chest. I always thought that Norrington must've been alone for quite some time before he was taken to Beckett so this is just how I see what it would've been like with only the sound of a beating heart to keep you company!
Disclaimer: Nothing here belongs to me. I'm just borrowing the characters and the plot for fun.
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"After which betrayal did you cut out your heart?"
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James Norrington gasped and clutched his chest. The heart tucked safely behind his muddied coat was fluttering. It was a strange sensation that confused him for a moment as the stolen heart beat out of time against his own. Worse still was the fact that Norrington still regarded the supernatural with a degree of cynicism, yet he now found himself in possession of a disembodied heart. The very same heart that he had denied existed mere hours ago.
The heart was beating more erratically now, its once calm thump-thump growing loud enough to drive Norrington partially insane. He breathed in deeply and remained composed, continuing to observe the events unfolding at sea in the distance. He had been lying on his belly behind a small sand dune, fearing that Davy Jones might still send his crew back to the island. He had witnessed the Flying Dutchman burst forth from the sea and the ensuing confrontation with the Black Pearl. The chase took both ships toward the horizon until Norrington could hardly make out what occurred there. He was certain that one ship had been taken down to the depths, certain that it was the Pearl. It was only after two ships had become one that the heart began to behave oddly.
He waited a few more moments. He wanted to make absolutely sure that it was safe to make his escape. How he would get back to Port Royal he had not yet considered, but there was no point staying on Isla Cruces. The East India Company had no need to explore the waters of a plague island. Norrington decided that he would have to begin his own rescue. As he approached the shoreline, he noticed that there was a large amount of debris scattered along the beach…parts of the water wheel and other unidentified timbers. He sought out the biggest, flattest piece of wood and dragged it with him as he waded through the shallows. Once he was in deeper water, Norrington checked the small bag against his chest one last time. Satisfied that the heart was safe, and thankfully slowing back to its usual rhythm, Norrington flattened his body against his makeshift raft and began to drift out to sea…
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A punishing sun warmed his back and stung his eyes if he dared to lift his head to the sky. Exactly how much time had passed he didn't know, but Norrington refused to give into his weariness. He was in open water now and afraid that if he fell asleep he would surely drown. His head gradually lolled down against his forearm and his heavy eyelids could remain open no more. His legs stilled in the water around him and he slowly drifted into that strange period between sleep and the waking world…
Thump-thump, thump-thump…The darkness gave way to a flicker of candlelight. Norrington felt detached from his body. A floating sensation overcame him but he could not move, only see. Directly in front of him he saw two distinct shapes coming into focus as he moved nearer. If this was a dream he felt exceptionally ashamed to be witnessing an intimate embrace between two lovers. He could hear their low whispers to one another, their hot breath beating against the skin of the other…
Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump…Norrington's eyelids snapped open as the heart gathered speed again. He blinked in confusion; he was back on the raft! The dream, no vision, had seemed so real. It was as though he had been in that same room with the amorous couple. He could not think upon it further, for as the heartbeat slowed Norrington once again did little to fight the exhaustion that claimed him.
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He awoke to another vision of night on the deck of a magnificent vessel. The darkened skies above were clear, each star so haunting as it twinkled that Norrington shivered in his "spirit" form. He heard voices behind him and so turned to face their owners, uncertain what he would see.
The same two lovers from his other dream were lying on the deck next to each other. Norrington approached with caution for fear that they would be disturbed by his presence but they continued talking. The male appeared to be the elder of the two. Youth was clearly beginning to leave his face; a few faint lines were framing his eyes every time he laughed. It was too gloomy to see much else but even in the poor light Norrington could see that the woman had skin so dark that it rivalled the beauty of the night sky. Her companion was clearly fair skinned, a poetic contrast that made them appear so perfect for one another. They were commenting on the heavens, naming constellations. She playfully goaded him if he hesitated or pretended that he could not answer.
Norrington had his suspicions about what he was seeing, but no confirmation. No confirmation until he noticed the hat discarded neatly on the deck behind the blissfully unaware couple. He had yet to see it in reality, but Norrington recognised that large tricorn from the stories circulating in sea lore. It verified his suspicion that he was somehow experiencing the memories of Davy Jones.
Norrington willed his body to wake up. Monster or not, he who was once a man deserved his privacy and given Jones's famed loathing for matters of the heart Norrington was even more determined to leave these shadows buried in the past. The waking world eluded him and he was forced to listen, believing that this was what the heart wanted.
"You know dat I can't give to you a chil'e, my sweet?" the woman spoke, a great sadness in her black eyes as though she thought she had wounded her lover.
"Aye, but I do nae care, fer it be ye that I want, yer love alone is enough tae make this life worth livin', my dear Calypso," replied Jones, turning over onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow. It was an action that Calypso instantly mirrored. A deep blue film shimmered over her skin, moulding to her body as she changed positions. It was as though her dress was made from the sea itself, fitting her form perfectly and flowing perpetually from her shoulders, over her breasts, her waist and down to her ankles. This woman was so mysterious, so dangerous that Norrington knew she couldn't be human.
"I raised dis ship for you," said Calypso, tenderly stroking a hand down Jones's face and winding a braid from his beard around her finger. "Me favoured one needs de best vessel on dis eart' and on me seas," she dropped her gazed and shifted her position again, sitting up with a sigh. "Would you do anyt'ing for me, Davy Jones?" her tone had changed.
Jones uttered just one word in reply. With that single utterance he revealed devotion so powerful it was almost maddening, "anythin'" he whispered.
"Al' who die at sea be my children Davy Jones, and so shall dey be your children. Would you care for t'ose claimed by de sea, take dem to the next life?" she asked, a solemn expression upon her face. Jones nodded. "Den you go where I can not follow, de realm of the dead is not my domain, we must be apart for ten years, dat is the price!"
Jones sat up with a start, desperation cast across his features "what?" he demanded. "This is not acceptable!" Yer everythin' tae me, how can ye expect this of me?" he was kneeling now, unable to look her in the eyes.
"It is de only way," said Calypso, her lips trembling. "Dis way, we can be together al'ways. You must prove your devotion to me, my sweet, an' the power I can give you will sustain you forever…"
"So I am faced with a choice, live fer all eternity and only see ye once every ten years, or live and see ye fer the rest of me natural life, after which I die and lose ye anyway?"
Calypso gave a tearful nod.
"Then it is settled," replied Jones as the vision faded back to black.
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This time Norrington did not return to reality first. He was instantly transported to a new setting, the hastened heart rate once again ringing in his ears. He was at a harbour, standing a little behind Jones who was silently embracing Calypso.
In a flash, Norrington was on the deck of the departing Dutchman. Jones was grasping the railing with his head bowed. Back on the harbour Calypso was crying. The sea was still, numb and unable to display its usual merciless strength. It pained Norrington's own heart as he was forced to think of she who would never mourn his departure to such extremes.
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Thump-thump-thump-thump…Norrington could feel the heart's anticipation. He was overcome with joy, nerves and a sense of fulfilment. His empathy with the last vision was nothing compared to this! His entire being was being strangled by desire. He simply could not wait to see what lay ahead; he felt he had been waiting a lifetime for this moment!
"I'm feeling what he was feeling," he gasped to himself, clutching both hands to his chest. The elation was so painfully short lived. Sorrowful heaviness seized Norrington's soul, the weight of anguish and crushed hope. He saw Jones standing at that same harbour, his now greying hair being caressed by the slight breeze. He was alone.
The next few moments brought a new dimension to Norrington's agony. He was at Jones's side. A heartbroken whisper of "she isn't…" left Jones's thin lips but without warning Norrington found that he had taken Jones's place and heard his own voice complete the sentence with the word "here". Obviously startled by such an unexpected twist, Norrington jumped and looked down at himself. He was in Jones's attire, including the crimson coloured frock coat and ridiculously oversized hat. Yet Norrington was still his own person, his hands did not appear to reflect Jones's age and nor had he suddenly sprouted a long beard.
Norrington cried out mostly in shock but partly in reaction to what this particular vision had made him feel. As the world went black yet again he wanted nothing more than to end his miserable existence.
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"Accursed thing, why must you torment me so?"
Norrington had spent his latest stay in reality yelling at the small bag that contained Jones's heart. He had shifted on the wood so that his body was mostly out of the water. He was too tired to continue paddling and opted instead to expend his energy cursing the organ that had brought him so much grief. The heart had been pounding harder and harder against his chest. It was now sitting on the wood loosely held by Norrington's fingers. He turned his head the other way, trying desperately to ignore that monotonous thump-thump.
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"For the past ten years the sea has been wretched to all men and now she has increased her torments. Captain, the cause is you and you alone. You must tell us how she can be tamed!"
Norrington thought he must be intoxicated. His head was stuffed full of too many ideas, an endless throb ripping through his sinuses. He tried to raise his hands to his face, tried to clutch his head so racked by agony. He had lost all control of "his" body. It was as though he inhabited the same space as Jones while remaining a separate person. He was breathing deeply now, trying so hard to concentrate on the men surrounding him. Then he realised one of his worst fears, pirates surrounded him.
Jones's soul, his essence, whatever it was, demanded indifference. Norrington's own being felt nothing but revulsion for the embodiment of a culture that had robbed him of his life. Although he did not recognise any of them men before him, he was reminded of Sparrow…and Turner. Suddenly his anger matched the rage in Jones's momentarily still intact heart.
"In exchange fer such a valued piece of information I expect somethin' in return," it was just Jones's voice now, his sense of betrayal giving way to a much harsher accent.
"And what would you demand of us?" asked the same pirate, one who was sitting at the head of a large table. He was safely separated from Jones by a handful of guards and those guards were keeping a very close eye on Jones. "You have abandoned your charge sir, why should those who sail the seas fear and abhor you any less than Calypso?"
"Do not speak that name tae me!" Jones snarled. He lurched forward but was stopped by another pirate.
"Well? My first question remains on the table," the first pirate defiantly raised up from his seat.
"I be master of the seas from this day, and all ye who die at sea be my lot. That be the price ye pay fer Calypso's imprisonment,"
"I object!" shouted a man to Jones's right. Jones quickly unsheathed his sword and spun around, holding it to the man's throat. Norrington felt an overwhelming sense of satisfaction as his hand, within Jones's spectre, gripped the sword and pressed it hard against the man's skin. "By my reckoning you need all nine of us alive Captain Jones…"
Jones snorted and lowered his sword, turning back to face the first pirate. "As much as I object myself, control of the seas in the hands of a man is much more preferable than the sea being in the hands of a goddess and her fury. Very well Davy Jones, as king of the Brethren Court I give you my word, the seas are yours…" the pirate king paused as others began to protest. He coolly raised his hand to silence them. "If you promise that unless a living man should approach you first, you will only concern yourself with the dead or dying,"
"Then it is done," said Jones with a polite nod. "And what I am about tae reveal was told tae me in strictest confidence, but she does nae deserve that confidence,"
"Then why did she trust you with it?" asked the pirate king.
"Because she wanted to find a way for us tae be together but eternity in one form…she was not prepared tae commit tae that and I accepted it,"
"And now you punish her with it?"
Jones chuckled. "Yer goin' tae need nine talismans gentlemen…"
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The final vision was the worst. Jones was in such pain that Norrington wanted to howl until his lungs burst. Or perhaps that was Jones's real reaction; the line between bodies was so blurred now. Norrington didn't have the strength to tell his feelings apart from Jones's. Still, it was feeling something that had caused Jones to reach this point. He was bitterly guilty for what he had just done but also furious enough to curse Calypso's name, believing she deserved her fate.
He hated love, he despised any joy that life could bring. Jones thought of Calypso but lighting flashed and she briefly took the form of Elizabeth. Norrington's own torments were breaking through into the vision. He cried out but heard Jones's low growl instead. His pulse was deafening now and a hot, crippling pain wrapped around his heart.
The last thing Norrington remembered before waking up was a lukewarm liquid pouring over his hands and seeping into his clothes. His dream world gradually fell away and he coughed up a stream of water, his eyelids fluttering open to unfamiliar surroundings. He was on the deck of a ship. A stern-faced man was searching Norrington's coat. Without even thinking, Norrington tucked the heart, still tightly in his grasp, up into one of his sleeves. He didn't want his moment of glory to be snatched away.
"Letters of Marquee…" said the man "Lord Beckett will want to see these,"
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James Norrington did not fear death. He feared eternity with a man so wounded it had transformed him body and soul. He feared being reminded of his own loss, his heartache. He feared what he could become. He closed his eyes and let his world darken. Finally he was at peace.
End.