Disclaimer: No, I do not own any of these characters. Unfortunately, they belong to all those talented people at Disney, including: Gore Verbinski, Jerry Bruckheimer, and all those screenwriters whose names you can find on official PotC websites.

A/N: First of all, this story is post-movie. Secondly, review, review, review!! Reviews will help me know what to change or make better, and they will hopefully keep me inspired to write more. Thanks!

The sunset had just set on the horizon of Port Royal, painting the sky with an array of oranges, deep purples, and reds. It was a stunning picture worth the brush's touch of the most skilled artist. The setting sun reflected in the light of the glassy surface of the sea, the waters surprisingly steady and calm that evening. It was quite refreshing, as a storm brewing off to the west had threatened to batter the fair port with crashing winds to fuel smashing waves. It was these waves that would concern Commodore James Norrington, as he could do well without his ships being tossed about recklessly by God's harsh fingertips. The ships of the Royal Fleet were his pride and joy, and especially the HMS Dauntless was very well his everything these days. The Interceptor had been destroyed so recently with that fateful run-in of pirate scoundrels, and he had suffered a heavy blow from the loss. It was almost like losing a dear friend.

He could often be found alone on the docks at night, lost in such thoughts, as he peered out into the dimming horizon. Tonight, however, was a bit different. Tonight, he would not be found at the fort dictating something or another to one of his officers, or in his quarters. No, the Dauntless was docked right at the port, and strangely enough, there was music drifting over the wind...coming right from the ship. It was the lovely, if slightly mournful strains of the familiar hymn, 'Nearer my God to thee,' via the violin. The player of that steady, graceful bow across the strings would be silhouetted against the setting sun, dressed in his finest, that extravagant hat placed upon the powdered wig respectable men such of he of that day and age were expected to wear. The golden buttons and trim of that dark, navy blue overcoat gleamed with the last light of the day, cuffs hanging just over his wrists evenly gloved with those currently gentle hands.

However, he was only playing for himself. Norrington did not wish for an audience to this his unexpected little 'hobby,' for what use was a violin-playing commodore to the fleet? None whatsoever, save the entertainment of clinging women, and that was certainly something he did not long for. Though he was clearly nothing near a virtuoso violinist, he was also not quite as rusty as he should have been, seeing as how it had been a long while since he'd had the time to practice. These days, however, things seemed different, and his fingers ached more and more to grip the bow and press down upon the fingerboard. It was almost becoming second- nature to him, if only because it cleared his mind of the day's earlier, tedious and sometimes oppressive happenings in his duties of a commanding officer, a swordsman, and... a gentleman. He was, if nothing else, always a gentleman, to the last.

....a gentleman who gave up women to the seemingly 'better man' even after she had used his love for her as if he were just a toy...

Stop it, he scolded himself silently, his playing faltering for only a fraction of a second. His brilliant, yet dark gaze was closed beneath shut lids as he continued playing, finely chiseled features set in a stoic expression. Defining brow was lifted as if in thought, but lips were pulled tightly into a thin line. Even within his music, stress and frustration were difficult to escape completely.

It was on this particular evening that a young civilian was seemingly strolling carelessly upon the sparse docks. It was unusual because she never ventured out this way during the night, as it was usually spent in the company of another in town. However, something had clearly brought her wanderings out there, as she walked lightly, the hem of her dress trailing just slightly upon the ground. She should have been concerned about this, if only for her father's sake, because it was indeed a beautiful, and quite expensively made dress. The fabric was made of a deep, scarlet color, low neckline and perfectly cut bodice outlined with fine lacy and black ribbon. The flowing sleeves were also laced with this white material, falling out over thin wrists and dainty hands, and also just past delicately booted ankles. Long, golden curls of hair had been pulled back into a neat bun atop her head, allowing a single, thick curl to trail down over her shoulder and just above her breast. Her large, expressionate eyes shone with a smile that dancedd about playful, coy lips.

Elizabeth Swann was admiring a new ring she adorned on one finger. It was not a fancy ring, no, but it was not the appearance that meant so much to her. What it symbolized meant everything to her. The ring had been given to her by William Turner, and of course, it symbolized his deep love for her. Not, of course, that their love needed to stay strong by such symbols and trinkets of their feelings, but it certainly did help.

"It means that I will love you always," Will had said passionately only moments ago, "Its means we belong to one another."

Yes, it was a promise ring, a promise that above all other things in their lives, they would always remain true to their hearts, and their hearts were with each other. It was a feeling that both enthralled and frightened Elizabeth. It was a promise she knew Will would never break, but there were so many outside dangers that threatened to pull them apart. She could not let this happen.

That was why they'd finally come upon this decision. That was why they could never look back. That was why...

...why there was music playing...?

Elizabeth shook her head once, bringing herself back to reality and the music that was indeed wafting to her from somewhere quite nearby. It was a violin and... it was entrancing. Depressing, yes, but quite mesmerizing. Lowering her decorated hand, she followed the sound slowly. She knew it was coming from the Dauntless; it had to be, and yet... it all seemed to improbable that reasoning almost led her to believe that she was mistaken.

The plank leading from the dock onto the ship was down. Elizabeth could not see who was playing through the rapidly growing darkness. Well, it was really too tempting to investigate. All she'd do was sneak aboard, find out who it was, then go home satisfied the mystery had been solved. No one would ever have to know that she'd even been there. Happy with this reasoning, she gave a little nod of encouragement for herself, then stepped as if to walk right up the plank...

"Hey, you! You can't go up there!"

... and just as quickly, her plans went astray. Sighing, Elizabeth took a moment to compose herself as she wanted before turning around to face... a tall, rather lanky guard and a shorter, more squat one. Dressed in bright red, that 'x' of white across their chests, and each brandishing their weapons proudly were Misters Mullroy and Murtogg. She recognized them as being the men who had, well, attempted to help Jack Sparrow with her rescuing that day on the docks so long ago. They, in turn, recognized her as the governor's's sole daughter, and therefore instantly lowered their weapons and stood at attention. She lifted a brow in soft amusement.

"Begging your pardon, Miss Swann," Mullroy, the shorter one, was quick to apologize, "but we thought you were a civilian."

"And civilians are not to be boarding the Dauntless," Murtogg chimed in, nervous eyes wide as he nodded a bit.

Elizabeth favored them both with a generous smile, bringing her hands to clasp lightly before her.

"Clearly, though, I am not a civilian, kind sirs," she spoke sweetly, letting her gaze rest upon each of them in turn. "I am the Governor's's daughter." She paused. "Good night."

She started to turn, but was stopped again.

"I'm sorry, Miss, but we're not supposed to be allowing anyone to board the ship tonight, even govenors' daughters," Mullroy cried urgently.

Elizabeth's shoulders slumped a bit with the realization this would not be as easy as she'd thought.

"That's right, on account of the good commodore not wanting anyone to see that he is - oof!"

Yes, unfortunately Murtogg's comment had been cut off due to a sharp elbowing in the ribs from his companion. Elizabeth froze again as the two whispered back and forth. She was quite able to hear what they were saying.

"Bloody oaf! Did you not hear what the commodore ordered us to do?"

"Course I did. We're to leave the ship reserved for it, but he never said anything about not telling anyone about what he was doing."

Meanwhile, the music continued to play quietly from the stern of the ship, as it seemed the musician was clearly unaware of the situation that had risen on the docks. A cunning smile pulled tightly at her lips. She'd been wrong about the difficulty of the situation. Turning calmly, she put on an expression of polite civility.

"Pardon me, gentlemen, but it was Commodore Norrington that sent me to relieve you both of your duties," she spoke evenly, giving them another kind smile.

Murtogg looked quite convinced, shrugging his shoulders with a careless grin. Mullroy, however, was more suspicious.

"Why didn't he just tell us himself, then?"

Elizabeth arched a brow. Ah. Good question.

"Why... he was terribly busy with... other things, you understand, " she gestured calmly with one hand, " so, he trusted me to send you the message."

Another evenly-placed smile was given as she waited, hoping they'd buy it. It took a moment, but they seemed to turn the situation over inside their heads, before giving in. After all... who could not trust the governor's's daughter?

Well, that and both were exhausted and rather wanted to just go to bed.

Each bowed politely to her with their good night's, before leaving her be with the ship and the lone player. Content that she'd smoothed it out so well, she turned right back around to finally walk up that plank and onto the deck of the noble ship. Her curiosity had only grown during that short conversation. Who could this stranger be that Norrington clearly held enough respect for to offer the empty deck of his ship for the backdrop of honing such musical skills? And, really, just how many officers could there be that played the violin? Somehow, she could not see the commodore as a great music lover, refined and educated as he might be.

But her thoughts turned from Norrington as she slunk silently closer, the strains cutting into her heart. There was such emotion in that playing, that she feared it could very well depress her enough to make her throw herself into the sea and drown. How could such a thing hold that kind of sway over her so suddenly, when only short moments before she had been overjoyed with Will's love for her?

It should have all made sense to her the moment she realized the figure was indeed Norrington. However, she was so shocked that it did not, and instead, those thoughts were left on 'hold' for a moment. An audible gasp parted her lips, and even though he had not finished the song, she was unable to stop herself from interrupting.

"James!"

The music instantly stopped with an unattractive screech from a bow being pulled too hard unexpectedly over the strings.... and a surprised jump from the straight-backed commodore. Of course, it was not a clear jump into the air, but a great twitch of his entire body, the movement causing his hat to nearly tumble right off his head. It might have been amusing, had neither been quite so shocked. He even went as to do a double-take, squinting his eyes before finally assuring himself it was indeed who he thought it was. It was not so much only the fact she had caught him doing something he should not have been doing, it was also so surprising because... she had called him by his first name. No one ever did that, even his closest officers such as Gillette.

"Eliza..." but, no. He paused, instantly lowering the violin and bow to hide it a bit behind his straight back. His throat was cleared, and then held himself up higher, brow bunching just above that dark gaze. "Miss Swann. Good evening."

Elizabeth likewise collected herself, forcing a pleasant smile upon her lips. This was the stoic, indifferent civility between them that he'd not yet grown entirely used to the very few times they had spoke to each other recently. It was how they were to treat each other since... well, since that day Jack Sparrow was almost hanged right before Will appeared to save the day.

However, the softly kind tone of her voice now was not entirely forced.

"You have an exquisite gift, Commodore. You really should not attempt to hide it."

Commodore Norrington. Miss Swann. Expected formalities midst sincere compliments.

"Thank you," he said quietly, not allowing a smile to brighten his features as he bowed his head gratefully.

He said nothing more, so Elizabeth felt required to add another thought.

"And why is it I've never heard you play before?"

His gaze rose to meet hers again, though it lingered this time as he wondered... how could she not know the effects her mere presence still had upon him? Her charms did not cease. Her beauty could never be extinguished. Here he was, having thought he'd finally moved on through his music and duties only to have her ruin everything.

After all, how could he suddenly just stop loving a woman he'd never truly had?

"I am afraid it is a...hobby I do not wish to announce to the world," he chose his words carefully.

But you are not the world... and I would serenade you every night if that is all it would take.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she said lightly, tilting her head thoughtfully to one side. "It's a hobby I believe the world would appreciate as more than just a hobby."

Such sincere words did bring a faint smile to his lips. It was inevitable.

The smile distracted her for a moment, before she realized she actually had something, well, a few something's to say to the commodore. Swallowing a bit, she glanced away, collecting these thoughts, before looking back into his eyes.

"Will and I are leaving tomorrow."

The smile on his lips froze.

"We afforded safe passage on a ship so we're leaving Port Royal at first light..." Her eyes danced away to gaze at her hands, unable to face his reaction, "...indefinitely."

The smile disappeared without a trace and his expression hardened, hiding the real emotions he felt inside. How quickly emotions could change. He was satisfied, at least, that his voice did not break, ruining all his act, for it that's all it ever was: an act.

"How does your father feel about this?"

"He doesn't know yet," she replied hurriedly, reaching up a hand to brush back those thick curls that trailed down her skin. "I was on my way to tell him tonight when your music distracted me and... well, I wanted to stay a moment and thank you. You've always ever been a gentleman and given me quite undeserved kindness."

Norrington's eyes had lingered on her hand. He'd seen that shiny trinket shimmering on her finger. Gentleman. Kindness. He would not, however, ever be thanked for giving her what Will gave more wantingly from her.

Love.

"You're welcome." Even his own, cooly mundane voice sounded hollow to his ears.

She hesitated, but there was clearly more she wanted to say.

"I should mean the kindness you showed me... recently," her voice quieted, "the kindness to Will and I."

Ah. That. He bowed his head, unable to look at her or that ring, and if only so she would not see the nerve her words had struck by the pointedly painful gleam in his eyes. He knew who had given it to her.

"It was my duty, Miss Swann."

It was also a bit of a lie, but then... she and Will loved each other. What else could he have done?

Elizabeth smiled once more, those entrancing eyes dancing so briefly to his, before she started to turn. However, Norrington could not let her walk away like that. There was a good chance he'd never see her again and this was not the kind of closure that satisfied him.

"Where will you go?"

She stopped, then turned to reply, but he was not finished. He had clearly meant to answer himself.

"To see your... pirate friend, I assume?" He could not help it, he spoke the title bitterly and dryly, and he knew she knew it. It gave him a sort of pleasure that she knew he still stood the same stance with pirates. Norrington basically loathed every last one of them. Therefore, it was reasonable that her tone had cooled.

"I don't know yet for certain. We just... we want to get away." Her brow lifted. "Does that answer please you, Commodore?"

Clearly, it did not. His dark gaze frosted over characteristically as he stepped closer, glowering down upon her as if she were a foul pirate that soiled his clean Port Royal.

...when in most likely truer reality, he was afraid to admit to himself that she would most likely someday return married to William Turner. But it was not the issue now.

"No, Miss Swann, it does not," he spoke, coldly calm, as he brought his hands to clasp rigidly behind his straight back. "Perhaps you'd care to know why?"

She narrowed her eyes a bit. "Not really, no."

But he seemed to have not heard her. "The sea is dangerous. Pirating is dangerous. Add these two together and it will be a miracle if you last even a month out there with a band of scoundrels of thieves."

He was clearly irritating her just as he'd intended. "Because I am a woman? That is what you are implying, isn't it?"

"Perhaps because you are simply not meant to be among such a ruthless environment that would have another pirate kill one of his own crew to save his filthy hide," he said so harshly that Elizabeth stepped back instinctively. Such an action only fueled his ruthless behavior. "Oh, I am quite certain your brave Mr. Turner will protect you so very valiantly, but even that will not be enough. He has been a blacksmith his entire life, and he will die fighting for you, but unfortunately, that in itself would not save your life."

Elizabeth was strong, but she was suddenly on the verge of tears. The sight of her distress and anger at him almost made him give in, but it was too late for that. Her eyes searched his cooly, her biting voice like ice.

"How can you say such things?" she snapped, then arched a brow before he could reply. "Just trying to make yourself feel better, aren't you? I chose Will, and now you only want to get back at me by making me feel horribly about it." She half-laughed very bitterly and humorlessly. "How daft do you think I am if I'm going to just stand here and let you..."

"If you and your Turner and Captain Sparrow return to Port Royal in the name of piracy and all its so-called glory," he cut in impatiently, eyes smoldering into hers, "I will not show you any mercy. I will not allow my beliefs and morals to be swayed again. No matter what you may think, no matter how Turner and Sparrow may have fueled the fire of your fantasies, piracy is not a romantic thing. Pirates are drunkards, thieves, rapists and murderers. If you have any faith or belief in God... you would know how to judge the immorality of such an occupation."

Any biting retorts she might have had ceased without a word spoken. Her glaring eyes had widened in shock, pouty lips still set into a thin, grim line upon her flushed face. Norrington did not let his cold exterior fall and he could not let himself wonder what she was thinking, how his words had stung her so. He could not let himself see her as a woman he loved, but as a woman who had betrayed him and all his ideals. He wasn't really sure how he would have felt if she'd concocted her own stance that would have continued the argument in her favor.

Elizabeth clearly had none, or none that she wished to voice. She only gave him silence, and a cruel look that she had never shown him before. However, she was not strong enough to stop those tears that had already fallen. A rustle of her skirts accompanied the thudding of her boots as she turned and hurried away into the night, never looking back.

It was only an afterthought to Norrington that he would probably never see her again. His expression did not change as he lowered his gaze... realizing he held a tight death-grip upon his bow and violin. Dark brow finally lifted a fraction thoughtfully as he brought the beautiful red- wood instrument up for his inspection. It was finely crafted, carefully polished, and with a scroll perfectly defined... and it no longer held any elegance or style in his eyes.

Nearer my God to thee. Elizabeth was not nearer her God.

His gaze rose. The railing to the dock was nearby.

It was with such calmness and smoothness that he walked to the very edge, peered into the inky depths... and heaved the instrument as far as he could. The splash would barely be seen in the dark, though he did watch for it, tilting his head slightly to one side as he thought about the rotting, watery grave the violin now embraced.

Commodore Norrington had done his duty. He'd sent Elizabeth away. Closure should have been his.

However, he could help but think how much easier it would have been had he simply thrown himself into the water.

A/N: Let me know what you think! I thrive on reviews, whether good or bad, just please try to give me constructive suggestions. Thanks for reading!