Kismet

Kismet is a word derived from Turkish and Hindi-Urdu, meaning Fate or Destiny, a predetermined course of events. The word evolved from Persian qesmat, from Arabic qisma, meaning "lot", from qasama, "to divide, allot". Kismet is also used in Bulgarian, Macedonian, and in some dialects of Serbo-Croatian as luck.

A Prologue…?

The first thing he was consciously aware of was a pain in his abdomen. It wasn't excruciating, but it definitely was uncomfortable. Slowly, he opened his eyes. He found himself staring at a wooden ceiling. It took him a moment to recognize the familiar movement of a ship beneath him. He was staring not at a ceiling exactly, but the underside of a deck. He was on a ship!

He then realized with a start that he was lying in a remarkably comfortable bed. But that should be impossible! He had gone and saved the woman he loved, been run through by one Davy Jones's men, and later they threw his nearly lifeless body overboard like he was little more than waste. Was it possible one of the Navy's ships had spotted him and fished him up out of the ocean? He cast a glance around the room he was in and knew immediately this wasn't a Navy vessel.

His first attempt at sitting up failed miserably. He yelped as pain seared through his abdomen in protest to his attempts at movement. He augmented his strategy the next time and instead pushed himself to an upright position with his arms. Sitting up was certainly less comfortable than lying down but he felt much more vulnerable lying there in bed on a strange ship. He jumped slightly when the door to the cabin opened; he winced slightly as his stomach again throbbed. It seemed even the slightest movements irritated his wound.

Upon seeing the intruder he immediately recognized her. He couldn't help the disbelief and slight irritation that seeing her evoked in him. "It's you!" he croaked almost feebly. He was shocked by his tone of voice; he didn't feel as bad as he sounded. He cleared his throat. "Excuse me," he said more quietly. The softer tone was better, he sounded more like himself now.

He watched her carefully as she waved a dismissive hand. "There's nothing you should be apologizing about. Your reaction is more than understandable Admiral Norrington. How are you feeling right now?"

He glanced quickly around the room before his eyes again fell on the woman speaking to him. "Well, I suppose I'm not dead, so there is little I ought to be complaining about."

"Perhaps," she said softly as she leaned against the wall of her cabin her eyes, all the while, trained on him.

He couldn't help wondering how this had happened. How could it possibly be that, in his attempt to do the honorable thing- that is ultimately dying while trying to right a wrong he had done- he would be saved? And not by just anyone, but a pirate! How much further was he destined to fall?

"I know what that look means," the woman said, her tone slightly annoyed. "You disappoint me Admiral, I would have hoped by this point you would have seen that the world is not so black and white as you would like it to be."

"Oh?" he asked, his tone was antagonistic. Not intentionally of course, it seemed she just brought out the worst in him. "Please, do explain."

She was frowning, "The world is not simply split down the line into the King's Navy, those citizens who do right, and pirates. There is a hell of a lot more to this world than that, so many shades of grey if you will."

Norrington snorted derisively.

"Yes," she said tiredly, barely controlling the urge to roll her eyes at the man. "Things aren't always as simple as they might seem. But I should have known better than to expect a man such as yourself to see that."

"A man like me?" he challenged hotly.

"Yes, a man like you," she replied, her tone infuriatingly even.

"So tell me, how would you describe a man such as myself?"

"Perhaps not as unkindly as you might imagine," he felt a thrill shoot through him when he saw how serious she looked as she spoke now. "Yes, you certainly are a stubborn pain in the arse. In fact, you're nearly a zealot where the law is concerned, and nigh on ruthless when you go without checking your conscience.

"But I've seen your good side as well," she continued, "Your stubbornness is borne more of your intent to stick to your convictions than anything else. A trait that is as important to a man of military standing, such as you are, as it is any good pirate- or human being for that matter. You have your beliefs and you won't let mere circumstance cause you to waver, not easily at least.

"You're strong, brave, and willing to own up to your mistakes. You've even attempted to make amends for your greatest mishap. Overall I'd say you're a good man, if perhaps a bit misguided at times, as we all are. In your case it was your position in the Navy and your being honor bound to your duty that blinded you. Not everyone has as good a reason to go astray."

Norrington stared at her for a while nearly slack jawed. There were some serious jabs at his character in there. But it seemed, for the most part, that she was complimenting him. "This woman you love- the one you almost died for. She certainly seems the fool for turning down your offer. You would do better than just well by her."

"She was in love with another," Norrington said on a sigh. "And I could never bring myself to make her unhappy. Even if it destroyed me to let her go, to have to see her with another man…"

He groaned softly, clearly in pain. "You should lie back down and continue to rest. You are not to be up and about for the duration of this trip at the very least. You, I am sure, do not wish to cause yourself further harm."

Obediently, he eased himself back down on his back. "I can't figure it out. Why go so far out of your way to save my wretched life?" He asked the ceiling.

There was a long silence after he asked this question, and he thought for a minute that she had slipped out of the room. But then he heard her breathing. After a moment she said quietly, "Really, it was a litany of reasons that drove me to it."

He wished suddenly that it was easier to sit up. Instead he did his best to prop himself up on his elbows in an attempt to get a better look at her. Even as he winced in pain she could see the stark confusion written on his face.

"Regardless of what you seem to believe I was indebted to you for saving my life. And I caught wind of what your people, and by extension you, were up to. On top of that, this ship and its crew turned up looking for me which gave me a means of going out in the first place. So I had them sail out to sea, the story was that you were out to destroy the pirate lords. So we headed toward Shipwreck Cove. The fact that we came across your nearly lifeless body was just God's way of telling me I had been right in my feelings. Or gut instinct, or whatever you'll call it. I had done what I was meant to do."

"But still, why? I am an officer in the King's Navy, why save my life?"

"You're still a man- and in this case, one that I was obligated to. Beyond that I have no sensible reason. After all, for the most part, you've made me your enemy."

"I made you my enemy? Your way of life made me your enemy," he countered harshly.

"Ah, playing the victim of circumstance. Such a simple role isn't it? Much easier than owning up to the truth of the matter. Because what do you really know of my life other than your base assumptions? I'm willing to wager that it's far less than you might imagine."

"Oh really?" he challenged.

"I've already told you Admiral, not everything is as simple as it seems. Life isn't always so clean cut as it may appear."

How did it come to this point indeed? A pirate who was indebted to an officer of His Majesty's Navy.