This story is the tale of an unlikely friendship between James Norrington and Jack Sparrow. It is set after the second movie, though disregards all history of Davy Jones' heart and all such nonsense. It simply does, however, relate to the fact that James had resigned his commission as Commodore and had chased Jack and his crew through a hurricane. The Pearl has been overtaken by the British Royal Navy and all of the crew were captured, with the exception of the infamous Jack Sparrow. Nonetheless, it is our two favorite characters engaged in a wonderful friendship! Read on and do enjoy their story!

One couldn't ever really decipher what was so viciously running through the mind of Mr. James Norrington. His thoughts were always so majestically concealed between his richly lined face and his eyes, his wonderfully large, giving eyes, typically only revealed what their viewer desired to read. James was always content in being the reason for another's contentment themselves. He was always humble, to a certain extent, never bold nor proud of his accomplishments or achievements. He was so dashingly handsome, handsome even when under the influence of a white, powdered wig.

His uniform tonight was celebrated with a rich number of medals, all fairly new to his title. 'Admiral James Norrington.' His name had only seemed right for the position; it was more befitting than any title he had previously claimed. The buttons of his coats were gleaming in the candlelight, but for what? A dinner and ball were to be celebrated in his name—for glasses to be clashed, for platters of food to be washed down with bottles of endless wine, for women and men to show their timely steps to a quartet's never-ending music! It was so fabulous for James, the attention splashed upon him for the evening!

He admired himself in the mirror, tucking a stray hair from his wig beneath another strand. He adjusted his tri-colored hat atop his head and grinned with satisfaction. Awakening from his reverie, a servant spoke.

"Admiral Norrington, your carriage awaits you." Two deeply blackened Clydesdales awaited him, their freshly groomed coats glimmering beneath the stars. Their bridles were neatly adorned with medals themselves, prepared to be the first wondrous sign of the arrival of such a town hero.

"My thanks, sir," replied James, tipping his hat. His black boot stepped into the carriage. The ride was quiet, simple and quaint, only a few moments away from the destination. The governor, who much enjoyed considering James his son while growing up, was the event's host, calling it his gift to James on behalf of his promotion.

Following the ride, his carriage door was open to the bows of men, of curtsies from women. Their smiles were genuine, as was his as he would casually respond to such actions. As he approached the top of the flight of steps leading to the entrance of the Swann mansion, the Governor stood before him.

"Admiral Norrington," the governor emphasized, his eyes glittering at the site of his so-called 'son.'

"Governor," he replied, tilting the edge of his hat, never breaking their stare. He continued into the ballroom. It smelt of fresh salmon and turkey breast, of cool ice and of brilliant tasting wines. Golden lamp fixtures or chandeliers were the highlights of the room, and the finest of silverware and the richest of draperies accented them.

He settled himself among the highest standing of officials, naturally. They all offered beams of acceptance and gratitude which he rightfully accepted in offering the same back. As the meal had finally begun to commence, the Governor stood himself up before the crowd and raised his glass approvingly while he caught James' eye.

"Let us acknowledge, at this moment, what our Admiral has offered our town and how he has rightfully played his position." He spoke with enthusiasm and the music faded. "Let us raise our glasses in honor of a rightful promotion, serve a toast in honor of a man who willingly offers his full self in times of need, one who puts others regularly before himself!" A standard 'clinking' sound was rushed throughout the room as faces glowed with appreciation at the man sitting beside the governor at the head table.

The governor seated himself and before taking a drink, he held his glass before James' eyes and tossed him one of his typical, respecting smiles. James blushed slightly before he closed his eyes and took his deserving sip before the crowd.

Roger Ellington, stout in figure with a thin, black mustache accenting his upper lip, sat across from James. He had plain brown eyes and a wrinkling forehead. His wife, Lady Anna, held a look almost near identical to his own. She was adorned in fine jewels with contemptuous lines etched across her stingy face. They stared disdainfully at James. Her plump figure, dressed in a pale white gown took away from the beauty of the hand carved chairs surrounding them, for she swallowed it in entirety. Her hand tightly grasped her husband's atop the table as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Governor Swann certainly pulled many a number of strings to allow you sit in this position today, don't you agree, Admiral?" James shot him a look of horror. Certainly it had been the Governor's doing that he'd regained his honor. It had most definitely been by his help that people were able to disregard former events and to replace their sullen ideas with those that Weatherby had encouraged in James' favor

"The Governor has done many things for me in my life which I am most grateful to," he retorted, hoping to strike a conversation with the fellow which sat beside him. The faces surrounding the table grew interested as they fixed their ears to enjoy the exchange of words before them. Certainly they were aware of such a truth, but they rather chose to ignore it, being knowledgeable that James was true to his word to the law and that those ideas had been unchanged between his misfortunes.

"But certainly this one holds far above the rest," Sir Ellington replied, evilly chuckling as his haughty words stumbled beneath his lips. He caught the eyes of the surrounding crowd as he continued. "The respect given to you would be nothing if it weren't for him."

"He has expressed his thanks, Mr. Ellington," interrupted Governor Swann. His face had grown red with fury as he stood before the table and placed his hands atop James' broad shoulders.

"Ah, but has he ever wondered aloud what a pitiful life he would have led had it not been for you, Sir," he finished. He raised his eyebrows and his glass as he satisfyingly took a sip of his wine.

Norrington had fully grown flushed, though his eyes had never faltered and had remained calm to sight. The very edge of his forehead, just beneath his hairline, had become littered with sweat. He used his napkin to remove them as he opened his mouth to once again speak.

"I…I," Whatever he had in mind had either most certainly refused to come out, or was never quite fully developed and decided to not uncover embarrassment.

Captain Roessler had practically freed James as his booming voice showered the conversation previously at hand. He was a tall man. His face was clean elegantly clean besides a light tuft of hair just in the center of his chin and his uniform was always up to caliber. The Governor settled himself upon his seat once more as Roessler spoke.

"James Norrington, I must congratulate you personally!" he cheered, tipping his hat. The color ran into James' face. Roessler continued. "Or should I say, Admiral," he chuckled, lightly throwing a playful punch at James' shoulder. A lighthearted laugh emerged from the depths of Norrington as he rose to his feet.

He shook the man's hand before him. "Captain Roessler, it's my pleasure to finally speak with you again. It's been too long." The table resumed their bantering of nonsense and continued on with the meal as the pair engaged in further discussion.

"Indeed, Sir." They released hands. He cleared his throat before he spoke once more. "Perhaps later you'd care to share a waltz with my daughter, Miss Beatrice."

Norrington approved of such a request.--