A Man Of Honour.
Summary – This is a one shot Norrington story, explaining why he let Elizabeth go. I probably shouldn't be writing this, seeing as I have a dozen things to do, Including finishing my art coursework and tailoring for this stupid fashion show thing. Also I have to finish a new chapter of Won the battle. Lost the war, which I am suffering the worst writers block on. Anyway I shall stop whining and shall get on with the story.
Disclaimer – Pirates of the Caribbean does not belong to me. It is a sad fact of life.
Many, for years to come, would wonder why James Norrington had let such a beauty like Elizabeth Swan slip through his fingers. The answer, quite simply, was that he was a man of honour.
Yes, he could have had Will Turner clapped in irons for even attempting to declare his love for Miss Swan, or he need not have released Elizabeth from their engagement. But as much as he loved her, she would never love him.
She liked him, was fond of him even, but he knew, right from the start, that her heart belonged to Mr Turner. And, even though he knew some in Port Royal thought of him as a stern, humourless man, who would not be above keeping a women in a loveless marriage, he was not.
People in Port Royal, mainly the women, gave him pitying looks. The men for a while afterwards, slapped him on the back and professed their sincerest apologies. He didn't need it. It was bad enough that he had to see the Turners – for they had married soon afterwards – parading around Port Royal and it was bad enough that he was by now, frequenting taverns, usually frequented by prostitutes and pirates for comfort, and it was bad enough he had lost his dignity and the respect of others by letting Jack Sparrow go. He didn't need their sympathy.
However he put on a brave face and continued the façade that his life had become. He thanked every one for their concern and carried on with his work. For although his heart wasn't in it, in fact his heart felt like it had bean torn out of his body, and he was, he felt, the laughing stock of the Port, he carried on because he knew it was what a man of honour would do.
And whilst his life was continuously spiralling downwards, like a whirlpool in the dark depths of the ocean, he could hold onto the fact that he was. A man of honour.