James Norrington Contest, Secret Santa
Fog filtered around his vision. It had been doing so for quite some time. He swayed gently to and fro, along with the small current the tide seemed to have gathered.
He gazed out at the deep, dark sea in the night and pondered if even creatures unknown lurked the waters in this realm.
"Well...this is a miserable existence." He wondered aloud for the umpteenth time, realising that no one or no creature would hear him, so he might as well do it anyway.
He'd recited his short, eventful life as if reading a book, beginning with his fondest memories and feelings. It'd all been a bit of a blur, but he'd managed to scrape together something that could easily make a good storyteller a fair bit of money. No where near as exciting or thrilling as a pirate, but he didn't want to damper his mood any more.
From the many times he had been with his mother, his nanny, his grandparents and his father, he's always been told about 'the proper conduct'.
The way of life as it were.
'Do not forget, family is most important.' His grandmother would chime, sniffing a small bottle and wrinkling her nose as if the sight of him upset her greatly.
'The navy my boy, is the only way. I was there, your father and you shall be also.' His grandfather used to grumble as if to himself, smacking his cane loudly against any available floor (usually leaving a small mark on it that would forever be there).
His father was usually a silent man, but proud and powerful when he stood before James, a course of fear running through the small boy whenever he felt he had done wrong when his father did speak.
'Adhere and respect those who know better than you. As a camel beareth labour, and heat, and hunger, and thirst, through the deserts of sand, and fainteth not; so the fortitude of a man shall sustain him through all perils. Remember this and remember: You are a NORRINGTON.'
James would never ask his father exactly what he meant by this, as he remembered a time he had asked his father something and was struck once across the backs of his legs with his grandfather' cane.
Whenever he would look at his mother for guidance (as any boy would), she would merely nod and smile.
'Always listen to yourself. Be a good boy and do as your told, but never forget, when you are a man, you shall marry and have children and you will make the decisions and choices.'
James missed his mother terribly when she'd passed.
He hadn't been allowed to shed any tears as it was not 'the proper conduct'. He'd found himself alone, in his bed, trying to suffocate himself into his pillow and biting on his tongue to stop from screaming out at the world about fairness (or the unfairness of the entire affair as it would seem).
He had been taken away to sea soon after by his father at his grandparents assurance that they'd look after his younger sister. She was the only person James truly felt safe with and yet spent little time alone with her, he barely knew her. He knew she liked her tea sweet and preferred autumn to summer, much like their mother, but would take his lessons apart from her when it came to 'important matters', (for her, it was sowing, learning the piano and painting. For James, it was reading, writing, arithmetic and learning how to load a gun.)
He learnt quickly to become an independent man, as being the son of Admiral Lawrence Norrington didn't gain him any special favours. In fact, his father encouraged other members of the crew to teach the boy the meaning of living the life on a royal navy ship.
James wasn't surprised with the way he was treated, nor by the fact his father turned a blind eye and didn't seem to care. They were brutal and forced him to do their work, even in blinding storms.
There were many incidences were he could have proved himself to his father, on one such, he made the mistake of having his life saved by a pirate captain.
His father had made it clear he would have rather him drowned than have his own kins life indebted to a pirate.
That day, James fully understand the meaning of honour and that day he decided: he hated pirates.
It was with many hardships, but a stiff upper lip and his head held high that he fought his way up through the ranks, all the way, making sure he could be seen by his father, to let him know he was not doing this for he: but he was doing it for himself.
It wasn't until many years later, did his professionalism slip ever so slightly: the first time he met Elizabeth Swann.
She was only young when they'd first met, but gradually, over the years, she'd grown prettier and prettier. It wasn't until she asked him to escort her to a Christmas celebratory dinner, that she gave him a large shock, appearing at the top of her stairs in a beautiful pale pink gown, with her hair free and dangling over her shoulders. He actually remembered mumbling at her before he eventually got out the words 'you look presentable tonight.'
Which of course he later kicked himself for, because he'd really wanted to take her hand in his and give it a fleeting kiss like a gentleman would.
It had been a couple of years since that evening before he'd finally gotten up the courage to ask the governor for his permission to marry his daughter. He of course was over the moon and utterly delighted, but James (although he and Elizabeth had grown very close, closer than he had ever been with his mother or sister) still felt like he was charging into battle against a hundred ships. Compared to the proposal, he would have preferred that.
It'd been that moment, when Elizabeth fell backwards, that everything changed. And that he decided he hated corsets as much as he hated pirates.
And that funny, constant feeling that he knew from the beginning, their relationship was going to far if things such as her fainting off a cliff was going to happen.
He didn't like to dwell on what he called the 'Sparrow' period, although it made up the majority of the last few years of his life. It had been going to hell and back and now, he truly was. At least, that what he felt like. But he was just glad he had managed to see her before he died.
'Though our lives have been intertwined, our destinies have been separate...romantic tripe.' He huffed and gazed up again at the sky, noting the lack of stars that night.
He turned his head and noted the other boats passing by, a few families all cuddled together, a couple of boys on their own, staring straight ahead of them. But he saw, a numerous amount of elderly men. Men who were dressed differently, who were different in stature, and yet all had the same, faraway look in their own. One or two turned to James and the only thing he could read was a very familiar thing to him indeed: regret.
He swallowed his pride and finally pulled off his wig (which had seemed to fallen him into the accursed afterlife also) and grabbed chunks of hair from either side of his head, gently pulling as if to try to wake himself up from a bad nightmare.
"Elizabeth." He spoke the word out loud finally, the one word that brought so many conflicting emotions to the surface. A name that he loved, a woman that he adored. The person who had turned his life upside down.
He felt a soft thud and quickly gripped the sides of the boat, fearing he had hit another. But what he saw surprised him slightly and confused him thoroughly. His boat was now ashore a clear, white beach, with no one around for miles.
He was sure, a moment ago, it had also been the middle of the night, but it was now a warm day, with a light zephyr blowing around him.
He cautiously stood and stepped out of the boat, examining it just to make sure there was nothing attached to it (such as a dreadful sea monster that had lured him there.)
He turned away, pleased with his surveying, but grew ever more surprised at the sight which seemed to have appeared before him.
Only a few yards away, Elizabeth sat at a small seat, dressed in a red, plain gown with her hair long and wavy and sipping tea, as if waiting for someone.
James knew this was either his dream or her dream because; 1) He would definitely not have arrived in the afterlife to find her, because he just would not believe that and 2) Why would you have tea on a grassy field, when the beach was only a few feet away a couple of seconds ago?
An idea suddenly struck him and he felt like kicking himself hard. Maybe this was a dream, as he had had so many times before, where Elizabeth would wait for him to arrive and when she saw him, fly happily into his arms and kiss him like he's never been kissed before.
Or this was her dream and she was merely waiting for someone like Turner or Sparrow to come out.
He sighed and knew, waiting around where he was wouldn't resolve anything.
'Maybe...maybe this time...it will be alright. I'll make it alright.'
He strode forward, pleased when his boot hit grass and he was no longer sinking into the sand.
"Elizabeth?" He spoke quietly so as not to startle her too much.
She turned to him and regarded him with wide, doe-like eyes.
"James."
He didn't hear anything else after that. Her voice was muffled into his jacket as she had propelled herself forward and embraced him ferociously.
His mind finally came back to him and although he could think no words, he held her tightly, trying to make some sense out of the ramblings that were pouring out of her.
"Oh James, I'm sorry! I should have stayed!" He made out, listening to her endearments and apologies and rattlings on about the battle and how she was so proud of him.
"It's alright, I-I knew what I was doing," he gently stroked her hair, revelling in her closeness, "I knew what had to be done."
His revelling and comfort didn't last long, because she pulled away sharply and gave him a soft thump on his shoulder.
"I'm so angry at you James! I never asked you to do that! I know you probably thought it was in my best interest and the only way, but I'm sure you could have gotten away also!" She glared and him and continued to rant and rave about 'selfish self-sacrifice' and all that tripe, James listening intensely as he felt, if he didn't, she would probably hit him again (and although he insisted to himself it did not hurt, he didn't like Elizabeth like this. She was slightly scary.)
"...AND you insisted on lying to me, claiming you'd be right behind me? I saw through that and yet you still made me go! What have you got to say?" Her hands on her hips and her eyes rooting him to the spot, James felt like he had just been dipped in honey and thrown to a very angry (and hungry) lying.
"I-I'm very sorry...it shan't happen again?" He held up his hands in mock surrender and smiled, hoping that she wouldn't chastise him too much.
He noted a slight twitch in her eyebrow and he pouty lips straighten out into a small smile.
"Well...it is nice to see you," Elizabeth took a seat and looked at him, her anger almost quelling instantly as she gazed at him with a look of sorrow and joy, "I just...I just wish we could have been together in battle. Oh James...I'm not being rude but...you are real, aren't you? I've dreamt of you before but...not usually this talkative." Elizabeth bit her lip, hoping to silently convey the message that she didn't want to have to put into words for him.
Luckily he understood and gave a small nod as he sat also.
"I think...I think it's almost a second try. Not for anything just...just so I can talk to you before I go. The last thing I saw was Davy Jones' rather unkempt face. Not a pleasant image."
Elizabeth chuckled and wiped away the last of her tears.
"I think you've actually been around Jack a bit longer than necessary. I've never heard you...well...joke before." She looked at him and blushed, hoping not to cause' too much offence.
James only arched a brow and folded his arms, trying to pull off his best sparrow look. This only made Elizabeth laugh more, before he too joined.
"Elizabeth," he stopped and turned serious very quickly, "there may not be much time. I just...I just want to talk with you."
Elizabeth sighed and looked at him.
"Yes...I don't have to wait long before...before Will shows up," she turned away quickly before continuing, "I think we've been sent a chance to see one another in our dreams...just so we don't go completely mad."
James Nodded and leant forward, clasping her hands in his across the table. Better late than never.
"Elizabeth...more than anything in the world, I believed I loved you. And I know you made the right choice. I hope you're happy, because I pray that you will always be happy."
The pads of his thumbs brushed over the back of her hand, stroking it carefully, as if she would pull away if he was to firm.
"James...you were more to me than just a friend." She said quietly, almost to herself.
"Like a brother?" he sighed and laughed at the same time, though the sound was hollow and the laughter did not reach his eyes as they stared at one another.
"Well, yes, I suppose so. I knew...I knew we'd never be right for each other but...I did love you. When I was younger, I used to imagine our life together if we did marry. And...it did not displease me. I wouldn't have had adventure, or near death experiences-", he interrupted her with a small grin.
"Or any sort of excitement in your life and you would have been terribly bored-",
"BUT...I would have been happy. I don't deny, I would have stayed at home and...and had your children." She looked faraway as if picture it right then and there.
"Children?" His mouth had suddenly gone dry and he winced at the way the word had sounded so desperate.
"Yes...three. Two boys and a girl," she began to stroke his hand right back, her thumbs brushing against the sides of his wrist," we'd live by father at first of course and then...after the birth of our first soon, you'd move us to the country. You'd still insist on spending time away and I wouldn't mind because I'd busy myself with other things. And then, after the birth of our second son, you'd retire early and return home. And we would sit in the garden, planning the details for our next child and watch as the boys sword fought and pretended they were you versus' the numerous pirates they'd always been told about by me." She looked up at him with a smile, finally seeing his serious face for the first time, looking so sad.
"You've considered things...very well."
"I'm sorry, I spoke out of place about that. I shouldn't have James." She made to pull her hands away, feared she'd wounded him, but he tightened his grip slightly, not letting go before he explained himself to her.
"No it just...it actually shows something about myself. I always...I never really thought about 'what would come next?' because I'd always been told what to expect. I was always told I'd marry a pretty little thing and have lots of strapping young boys, who would all go into service. I was so busy trying to get to engaging myself with you that...I didn't stop to consider if that's the future I wanted with you. I did want it but...I never really thought about wanting it."
Elizabeth manoeuvred one hand out from underneath his and clasped one between the two.
"Oh Jamie," a small tear escaped and ran down her cheek, "I'm sorry, for everything."
He smiled at her and reached over to wipe the tear before it reached her chin.
"Don't be. We wouldn't have had such a marvellous time together. I think it's best I let you get on with your dreams. I don't think I'm the only one you should be dreaming about and I'd rather not him catch me here...Turner and I will fight even in a peaceful place like this."
He stood up, still holding her hands and moved round, placing a single kiss on each one.
"Will you...will I see you again?"
"Here?...If you would like me to come and visit I will. But...I can't promise to wait for you. I may be married to a beautiful woman in the afterlife, who actually detests adventure." He winked at her and they shared the same amused smile.
"My son...he will hear of the tales of the sea. Of his father and Sparrow...and of the brave Admiral James Norrington, who fought gallantly for what he believed in, who, even when at his lowest was still a gentleman to me and...who sacrificed his own life that others might live."
He finally dropped her hands and stood taller, with his shoulders back, presenting himself for her.
"And don't forget...a marvellous swordsman!" He laughed heartily and was about to step back, when she caught his arm in her hands.
"Even better than Sparrow and Turner in one
"Heaven forbid...if your son tells his father...I'll be in a world of trouble!" He knew it may not have been the right thing to do, but it had been something he had always wanted, and placed his arms around her, pulling her close to him and off the ground as he held her to him, twirling her around.
Elizabeth squeaked and protested only slightly, shocked at his behaviour.
He placed her back down on the ground and the two laughed before realising, that that was not what he'd wanted to do. They stared at one another and it was Elizabeth, who tip-toed up and placed a small, gentle, feather-light kiss against his lips, willing him to start with her, because this one time, it was alright.
And Jamie knew, that although he was going to walk away from her, without a goodbye, he would climb in that boat and row away.
Because it was alright.
And with a contented sigh and smile, he leant forward and kissed her.
Common pictures of the falling years,
Distant memories that are filled with tears.
Just remember when a dream appears,
The one that loses is filled with tears.
It doesn't matter if there's sun or rain,
We'll be searching for a silver plain.
After all that is said and done,
The two of us will always be one,
The two of us will always be one.