As stated in the summary, this is a dark little fic from Norrington's point of view. I admit, it is a little out of character for our beloved former Commodore, but we'll blame on the Flying Dutchman. If you don't like it, do tell me. Believe it or not, I care. Don't you feel special? Inspired by the line in Curse of the Black Pearl: I'd rather see her at the bottom of the ocean than in the hands of a pirate.

Disclaimer: It's all Disney's.

In Your Hands

I watched as her beautiful eyes faded into the darkness. Those warm brown eyes which had once been filled with laughter, but had been sullied and darkened with the corruption of pirates. How the mighty have fallen. There was a time when I would have done anything for her. I risked my own station just to let her criminal of a friend get away. For her I lost everything. And did she care? No, not even when she found me wallowing in the mud after she had knocked me out in a pub brawl. But I cannot blame her, she who was once so innocent and pure. It was the pirates, that Sparrow and Turner, who had tainted her mind.

I cannot accurately describe how I felt when I saw her aboard the ship from Singapore, as their captain no less. At first I felt relief at knowing that she was alive. That quickly turned to disappointment. She was a pirate captain. How could she have fell to such a low level. Perhaps there was still time for redemption. I know what you are thinking, and no, not redemption for myself in her eyes. I had lost everything for her and gained it all back for myself. I was not the one who needed redeeming. It was this foolish lover of pirates.

"The captain shall take my quarters," I had said, hardly wanting her to spend any more time amongst the motley crew of brigands.

She tried to deny me, as she always did. "I'll stay with my crew," she had snarled.

"That was not a request." I ushered her into the cabin in which I was staying aboard the Flying Dutchman. Looking back, it was an absurd way for me to act, shoving a lady around like that, but the ship had an odd effect on me. Ever since we had come aboard, I as well as my crew had begun to act strangely. Though we kept order, it almost seemed as if there was a tension between everyone, like any moment your closest shipmate could turn a knife on you. But that was a matter to deal with at a later time. Now, I had Elizabeth in my cabin and at my mercy.

"You still side with these…pirates," I spat at the word.

Her brown eyes burned with fury. "I do."

I could not understand this girl's logic. Ever since Sparrow had waltzed into our lives, pirates had caused her nothing but trouble, constantly putting her in harms way. If she had just accepted me as her husband, none of this would have happened. Elizabeth would have been safe. "Where is your dear Mr. Turner?" I inquired, admittedly, rather cruelly.

She turned her glare away from me. So she did not know where her beloved was. Typical pirate behavior. "Elizabeth, come back with me, and we can leave this ridiculous pirate business behind." I was almost ashamed at the pleading tone in my voice. How many times had I come so close to falling on my knees and begging her? Too many.

"No." It was final. Elizabeth was resolved to following her girlish fantasies of heroic pirates. I could not let her live like this.

I'd rather see her at the bottom of the ocean than in the hands of a pirate.

Something went off in my head, like a thousand canons ringing out. What I had to do next was evident. She bolted for the door, but I grabbed her wrist and jerked her back. She could fight me all she wanted to, but when it came down to it, Elizabeth was no match for a trained military officer. Taking hold of her other hand, I held them both behind her back with only one of my hands. She screamed, but who would come to her aid? There was rope coiled in a corner, and with her struggling against me, I threw her next to it. She collapsed in a heap, and I made short work of lashing her legs and hands together. Still she called for help. I hauled her to her feet by her forearm and clapped a hand over her mouth, muffling her cries. The poor girl tried desperately to bite at my fingers to get me to release her. I could not help but take a moment to notice how she was even more beautiful when she was flustered. Pity. A moment of me being distracted was all she needed. Managing to capture one of my fingers between her teeth, I let her go and she did a funny little hopping movement to get away. I reached out for the back of her collar and in an attempt to yank her back toward me. I missed her collar and pulled back on a necklace she was wearing. It popped off, but not before it nearly strangled her and hurtled her back into my arms. I dropped the necklace and confined her in my grasp once more.

I dragged her out of the cabin to the side of the ship. I lifted her in my arms, her legs kicking viciously. She caught my side with the heels of her boot a few times, but not nearly hard enough to coerce me into letting her go. I held my poor, confused, beloved Elizabeth over the railing of the Flying Dutchman, and with one last cry, I let her fall into the crushing waters below.

And so now I stand at the railing, her eyes full of shock still burning in my memory. Who knows how long it has been since I released her from her worldly mistakes. What I do know is that we are both free now and thankful for it.