No Greater Love
He never feels clean.
It's an irony of the highest order and ridiculous to say aloud. The impeccably pressed folds of his stiff navy uniform laugh back at him from the mirror, its ludicrous to describe him as disorderly in any sense of the word. If anything he's a carefully constructed Navy ideal, even to the smallest gold brocade and bronze detail. But he knows better, his stoic and respectable appearance are naught but a costume. It's a mask, a mockery that hides his unclean heart from the world beyond himself.
Often he thinks of the time that followed the loss of his commission, his real, earned commission, not the mockery he lives now. A drunken, despicable, pathetic excuse for a man, he had worn his disgrace as though it was in fashion and loathe though he was to admit it, it had been all too easy. It had been almost natural, the way he had allowed his guilt and regret to sublime to bitterness, his once dutiful thoughts laced with anger and pain. Muck and dirt had been nothing but a metaphor for the foul thoughts within. Soap and lye couldn't wash away the shame that remained.
In a small and shameful way he envies Davy Jones, it's easy when he's sitting alone in the dim of his quarters; easy to see the appeal of casting away one's heart. But not for pain, he feels that he himself is entirely deserving of the pain of his own repugnant decisions. More than deserving of unrequited love, he doesn't love himself either. Rather, it is the idea of casting aside that which has no worth that appeals to him, a soul blackened beyond repair with betrayal.
His soul.
He had been a good man once, at least a better man. The kind of man who gave rather than took, served others before himself. He had thought himself kind, perhaps brave, but he had been too proud, too noble, and he had thought his morals above the common man. Now that that's all fallen away he's lost. Sometimes he thinks that he left everything that made him himself behind on the parapet (those times seem so long ago now…), or buried it at sea. Perhaps when he offered his heart to Elizabeth she had neglected to give it back.
The truth is, even after all this time, after everything, he still loves her. He loves her for all the reasons that make them so painfully wrong for each other. And he thinks now in this moment that he has always known this, he has always valued her life, her safety and her happiness above his own. Perhaps if he had been bolder, younger, less severe and more akin to her… things might have been different. He has enough if only's to last him an eternity but he loves her all the same. He was never meant to live his life with her but rather for her, and that is the only thing he does not regret.
Because he knows that this is the end, it must be the end and he wonders if the gift of his own life is payment enough to cleanse himself of the stain on his soul. He doubts it, he doubts anything would ever be enough but it is all he can offer and so he offers it, a gift freely given. It is the kind of thing his former self would have done without question but perhaps that makes it all the more remarkable. It's comforting to know in these desperate moments that even someone as broken by life as he is capable of some goodness. It gives him a sort of fledgling hope that she'll make it away from here and find herself the happily ever after she was never meant to share with him.
The curtain is drawing to a close now and he kisses her once, as he should have a lifetime ago. He doesn't expect her forgiveness; he only hopes that someday she'll know how in his own way he loved her. But time is up and with terrible finality he stumbles, titles and misdeeds washed away by love, finally himself.
Authors Note: I've had this in the works for quite some time now and only gotten around to finishing it tonight (I love finding ways to procrastinate studying for finals). I love James's character, he has a depth that I think a lot of the characters in Pirates lack (Will and Elizabeth= boring in my book but I don't really have anything against them). I love the metamorphosis he goes through from dutiful and stern commodore to smelly drunken (and very attractive) almost-pirate and back. I actually identified with him more as the good guy who finishes last in the first film, who makes selfish decisions in the second but ultimately chooses to die for the person he loves, pretty heroic in my opinion. Yes he has flaws, but don't we all? I think with this short piece I just wanted to explore what he was thinking when he knew he was going to die (I don't really think he thought he was getting off the Dutchman with Elizabeth for a second). So I hope you enjoy the fic! Reviews and constructive criticism are always welcome!
Thanks for reading! :)
Postscript: The title refers to a line in John 15:13 "No one has greater love than this, to lay down one's life for one's friends."