The Smile on Her Face, a pirates of the caribbean fanfic

Summary: Tia Dalma gives James Norrington the answer he didn't know he was seeking. Could happen in AWE or perhaps even DMC. No pairing (or squint-worthy Tia/James).

Author's Note: James and Tia meet. Worlds End is not out yet, so I'm welcome to daydream as much as I like. This wondered into my mind while I was writing a part of the 'Only Thing' series, which will hopefully be posted shortly.

Disclaimer: Part II of 'In My Own World.' In my own world, I own Pirates of the Caribbean. Also in my own world, chocolate is good for you, I have a compass that points to what I want most in the world, I'm a few inches taller, I can see and breath underwater, I have exciting adventures (naturally with happy endings), I meet whoever I wish to eventually in my life (see my profile for the full list), leopard geckoes can talk (such interesting conversations me and my lizard would have), my house has a huge library with balconies and has four floors, Johnny Depp is president, and Tim Burton makes more than one movie per year. Oh yes, and there were more wholesome, PG-rated TV shows (I like CSI and all of that, don't get me wrong, but every once in a while it gets to you). As you can see, we don't live in my world, so I don't own PotC.

The Smile on Her Face

The ship rocked gently, bereft of any occupants on deck save the half-drunk helmsman and a lone figure walking awkwardly to the bow. The only person who spared him a glance was the lookout, who only did just that before looking back to the sea, bored and quite tired.

The moon glowed on the otherwise dark sea, stars dotting its glass-like surface. A breeze stirred it briefly, blowing James Norrington's hair back, before all fell still.

James's reason for his unusual lack of grace was very peculiar, very dangerous; something that could destroy a ship with one well-placed blow, and that had taken millions of lives over the course of history.

It was a cannon ball.

James stared out for one brief moment, admiring the sky and the dangerous but beautiful ocean that had captured his interest since he was a boy. With broken hope, it would be the last time, because tonight the ocean would claim something else of his: his life.

The beauty of it temporarily made him forget everything, even his desire to be dead. The waves made the ship rock like a cradle, giving off a deceitful vision of peace and tenderness. There was no hint of the creatures that lurked underneath the surface, somewhere – maybe there, maybe here.

The image also reminded him of a certain woman: of her smile that hid the destruction she was capable of; of her eyes that shined as she looked at another set of dark, russet depths….

No. He wouldn't think about that. James shook his head, and just like that, the beauty was suddenly lost on him.

'Beauty is what got me here,' he couldn't help but think, bitterness plain in his thoughts. 'It's not any good at all, really.'

"Is dat wot yah really dink, James Norrington?" a feminine voice with a Caribbean accent spoke, breaking his thoughts (his spoken thoughts apparently), and making him whirl around, his hands up, prepared to throw the cannon ball.

The only reaction he got from the strange woman suddenly standing behind him was a mystical smile. He slowly lowered the ball, even as she spoke, slowly coming closer in a graceful sway.

"Because wot I dink is dat you, like so many uders, fell for beauty out of yoir reach," the woman continued, now right beside him so that she, too, was facing the sea, although her head was turned to look at James. He turned to look at her, not daring to keep his eye off her. Even during those dark days, when he spent most of his hours either drunk or trying to get drunk, did he never hallucinate something as unusual as an African woman with dreadlocks and ink-stained teeth.

"Who – who are you?" he questioned, dazed. He really wanted to ask what she was, but years of décor and propriety prevented him.

"Tia Dalma, at yoir service, Mistah Norrington," said the witch, for she must be a witch (how else could she seem to float instead of walk?), with a small incline of the head.

"Why are you here? How did you even get here?" James asked, hiding his fear with suspicion (which wasn't that hard to do). "Does anyone know you're on here?"

Tia didn't reply, instead keeping the smile on her face. She looked at James's hands.

"Wot are yah doin' wit' dat?"

Something inside him told him she already knew, and he voiced as such, making Tia erupt with ringing laughter. When she stopped, she cocked her head to the side slightly, a puzzled smile on her face. One word slipped out from her painted lips:

"Why?"

"Why? Why!?" The dam he'd carefully constructed suddenly broke with an almost tangible snap inside of him, and all of his anger, jealousy, regret, and bitterness exploded into words. "Because I've no reason not to do it! Because I don't deserve to live! Because I'm a murderer, as crazy as Captain Jack Sparrow himself, that's why! Don't toy with me, madam. I feel I must warn you; I've realized quite recently that I have a fierce temper, and my heart is so twisted and tortured that I don't care who I hurt anymore! I'm on the edge of my sanity, and I do not care! Proceed with caution, Miss Dalma, because I have nothing – nothing – to lose anymore!

The almost bellowed outburst ended as quickly as it began, and James faced the sea, suddenly gasping for breath. He continued, after a moment of mutual silence, in a more staid, but still poignant and at times angry voice.

"I lost the only woman I'd ever love to a blacksmith, and now, maybe, a pirate. I heard her agree to marry me, and I heard her agree that her place was right by the aforementioned blacksmith and between me and the pirate, Jack Sparrow. I heard her say her heart was not with me. I heard Jack Sparrow say his goodbyes to his beloved friends as he escaped yet again, and I myself said to give him a 'one-day head start.' I was good to my word; I waited until the next evening before setting out in my one remaining ship after him and his beloved ship. I even gave Elizabeth up to William Turner." There was no denying the contempt in his tone.

He paused, taking a breath, gathering his thoughts. Tia remained silent, studying him unblinkingly, unflinchingly, as he told his sad tale.

"I spent the following months chasing after Sparrow. I had nothing to hold me back, no one who cared to – and nothing has changed." Here, his voice broke, which he (in vain) attempted to cover up with a cough. "I always thought that, had Elizabeth stayed with me, I wouldn't have done what I did. I would've been able to bear anything, as long as she was there, her arms welcoming me at the end of the day, or at the end of a voyage. I wouldn't have been so focused on catching Sparrow. I went half-mad, I know, sailing all over the Atlantic, looking for him. I almost had him once. I was this close –" he held up two, nearly-touching fingers, "– to having him, until that hurricane. I sailed on – I ordered my crew to sail on. I can still remember Andrew Gillette's face when I gave the order. I can still remember his words as he beseeched me – begged me to reconsider. You know what I did then?" A spasm of pain flashed across his face, and Tia's hardened heart softened. Before even she knew it, she gently put her fingers on the back of his hand, which was clutching the rail in a white-knuckled grip. James didn't notice, his eyes watching a memory, his voice beginning to shake.

"I, in my blood lust to retrieve my supposed honor, told him to shut up and do what I said, told him I was in charge and he was to obey my orders."

His eyes, like blue-green moons, shone with unshed tears that he didn't even bother to try to hide anymore. He was tired, so tired, of hiding it….

"Two hours later, I saw him get blown into the sea. I haven't seen him since."

The agony on his face was only matched by the misery and self-loathing that was fighting to consume him. Clenching his jaw, he forced himself to remember.

"I was the only one to survive that hurricane. It figures, really; God only takes those who have something to live for (1). I ended up at Tortuga, which I thought ironically fitting; if I and my actions were not dissolute and vile, than I do not know. I stayed there, drinking and sleeping and other things I'm sure that I don't want to remember, until I once again saw the face of an angel, Elizabeth Swann. That's what I thought then, at least. Now, I'm not really sure if that's true, or just a mask. She lead me to this, whether purposely or not, and so here I am, alone and rightfully so."

James looked at Tia, his face somber. "Does that answer your question?"

"Yes, i' does," said Tia quietly. "But yah doan seem ta realize dat dis is not da end. Dis is not da answer, James. Yah claim dat yah are alone, and unloved, but do yah know dat for sure? Do you really know dat no one loves you?"

It was then that James noticed Tia's hand covering his hand, but he didn't withdraw. He stared at her, more fascinated than afraid now.

Nevertheless, he replied, "I'm quite sure, Miss Dalma. I've yet to think of anyone who would care if I rid the world of my existence."

"I know dat Elizabeth Swann would," said Tia, smiling at James surprised expression. She held up a hand as James opened his mouth. "Yes, James, despite her breakin' yoir heart she still cares about you. Perhaps not da way that yah would wish, but she does. And I'm sure dat her fahder, Govena Swann, would care if he knew. Yet, still, wid all yoir thoughts and misuhries and contemplations yah no doubt had time ta dink about in yoir time in Tortuga, yah failed ta realize de most important part of every man and him destiny."

James gave her a confused look. Smiling, she slowly walked away as she said her final words:

"When yuh are gone, da numba of people dat miss yah an' how dey reacts depend completely on you."

Staring at the horizon, thinking, James felt a piece of him that he thought he'd lost and had unknowingly been missing slip back into place.

Pink, orange, and gold colors started to fill the sky as he thought for a long moment, once again admiring the beautiful scene that nature spread before him. Dawn was approaching; the sky was lightening. With it came a new day, a new chance…a new life.

It was all thanks to Tia. Smiling now, he turned to thank her, but she was gone.

(1) This line (or something like it) is borrowed from the book, The Coffin Quilt, by Ann Rinaldi (which I don't own). I don't know the exact page, so if anyone does, please let me know. I highly recommend the book for history lovers, because it writes about the legendary feud between the Hatfields and the McCoys in 1800s-America.

Thank you for reading! Feel free to tell me what you think. Flames are not appreciated, but constructive criticism is.

Also, I need a beta. Anyone up for it?

JeanieBeanie33