The Departure of the Dauntless

So that every Crime is a sin; but not every sin a Crime.

THOMAS HOBBES

It was a startlingly bright morning in Port Royal like any other in the Caribbean. The sun was blazing down with might, and a slight breeze hardly worth the name managed no more than gently sway the frailest of leaves. As feverish as the sun was the mood of Elizabeth Swann, who, finding herself at the breakfast table next to her father, declared herself to be the happiest creature on earth.

"Some more coffee, Miss?" asked Scott, their old butler.

Governor Swann privately thought that the last thing his daughter needed was a stimulant, but the young woman put on a yet more exultant smile.

"Yes, please!"

Her father arched a brow and beckoned at the servant. "Perhaps, Scott, you may mingle the coffee with a little water...?"

"You'll do no such thing, Scott!" Elizabeth cried and halted the butler by grabbing his arm.

No, Governor Swann thought, definitely no more coffee. "My dear," he gently rebuffed her, "you're already in very high spirits."

"And why shouldn't I be!"

She waved at Scott in an encouraging manner to pour her some more. She hadn't been sleeping the previous night due to her excitement, and only the wish to mollify her father had made her get up so early in the morning. Scott, undecided whom he was supposed to obey, stopped hesitatingly, but Governor Swann had never been able to withstand his daughter anyway, so he nodded at last, and Scott followed his mistress' wish.

"Darling," the Governor began anew, "I had rather hoped you might have had second thoughts since last night. I can easily imagine how you got carried away by yesterday's events, but seriously –"

She smiled sweetly. "Seriously I'm quite determined to have no second thoughts whatsoever, Papa."

"My dear child, as you well know there's nothing more important to me than seeing you happy. If you hadn't fled from the Dauntless that night, you would have heard me counsel you to undo your engagement to the Commodore if you had committed yourself for the wrong reasons. Which you obviously had. You see, I'm not unreasonable. But I beg you, please consider your future! That boy that you intend to marry, he – I won't mention that he is a blacksmith – he cannot afford to marry you within the next five, perhaps eight or ten years!"

Elizabeth had scarcely listened to her father (she rarely did) but she had overheard his last words, and replied the tiniest bit less cheerfully, "Yes, I know that."

"And yet you are willing to commit yourself to an engagement of such uncertainty?"

"Well, it cannot be helped, can it? I want Will, and if I have to wait a hundred years for him!"

"All I ask for is that you contemplate the extent of such hardship –"

"I've waited for eight years already, Papa, I think I will be able to wait some more, now that I know that he is as fond of me as I have always been of him!"

"If those eight years appeared long to you, think how long the next eight are going to be, my dear."

She rolled her eyes and sipped her coffee. Her father clearly felt uncomfortable to have such conversation in front of the servants and sent them away before continuing urgently, "You are still very young, Elizabeth, only eighteen. You've never met many men of your class and age, and I think it quite natural that you should be endeared to young Mr. Turner. After all, he is your age, and you're bound to him by a long lasting – well, friendship I guess. You cannot accuse me of being illiberal, can you? Did I ever object you from a friendly intercourse with the boy?"

Elizabeth wasn't inclined to quarrel with her father just now, and after all, it was true. He hadn't objected to her seeing Will, or talking to him. But this wasn't owed to his liberalism. It simply hadn't crossed his mind, ever, that she could have any interest in the boy. She liked her father a lot, but he was a snob. To him, Will had never been more than Sarah, her chamber maid, or Scott, their old butler, and prohibiting her from speaking to Will would have seemed just as absurd as keeping her from talking to the servants.

"No, you were very kind, father," was her good-humoured reply.

Governor Swann plucked up courage. "I only wish you to see a bit more of the world before binding yourself, that is all, Elizabeth –"

"You didn't want me to see more of the world when wanting me to marry the Commodore, Papa."

"I didn't want you to marry the Commodore –"

She cast him a mocking smirk. "You could have fooled me there."

"He is a very worthy suitor, my dear, and very fond of you as well –"

She didn't like the turn the conversation was taking and went back to tease him. "Oh, so you didn't send me away to do him a favour."

"Please, Elizabeth, nobody means to send you away! My dear child, how could you even think I... All I meant to say is that it is a pity that you have seen so little. And you're not going to once you're married to young Mr. Turner. Whereas the Commodore –"

"Would have dragged me all over the globe in His Majesty's Service?"

He didn't rise to the bait. "I suppose you aren't inclined to go to England for a little while? After all, your engagement will be long, and you could use the time to –"

"You want to keep me away from Will?!"

"I don't want to keep you away from Mr. Turner, my dear. That is not what I was going to propose. All I thought was that it could be nice for you to go there once more. When you are married, you won't have another opportunity, so why not seize the time? Five to eight years is a very long time, if it is enough for him to establish himself, and you'd only be in his way."

"Oh, I don't think he minds me being in the way, Papa."

They passed a whole hour in this fashion, going back and forth, with the Governor wishing his daughter to listen to sense, and Elizabeth even more determined to not listen to a single thing he said. He gave up at last; he had an appointment with Commodore Norrington. Along with his ship, the Dauntless, this fine man – who until yesterday had been no less than the Governor's future son-in-law – was to depart by eleven o'clock in order to pursue and capture Jack Sparrow, the Captain of the Black Pearl, in whose escape the day before the Governor's own daughter had played no little part.

The old gentleman sighed, contemplating the very unpleasant duty ahead of him. He shuddered to face the Commodore, but his uneasiness was nothing compared to his daughter's feelings on the same subject. Having a reputation for being unguarded and thoughtless, few people would have imputed on her the acute sense of shame she was experiencing, yet here she was, and not even her elation to have captured the young man of her dreams could quite blot out the nagging contrition.

"Do I really have to go?" she asked plaintively.

"As a matter of fact, I don't think you should go, child! It might be considered quite improper after all –"

If he had thought that pointing out the unseemliness would detain his daughter, he had another think coming. Elizabeth didn't want to go, she really, really didn't – but suddenly she thought that it would be a cowardly thing to do and would make her look like one who thought she had done wrong. And while she privately felt exactly that, she thought that nobody else must think so, and steeled herself to accompany her father after all.

Oh yes, she knew she had done wrong, very wrong indeed, and was ill-equipped to handle that knowledge.

Commodore James Norrington, a man of thirty-one years and rather austere by nature, had been in love with her for a long time, as she had known all too well. Him she knew even longer than Will, as he had been an officer on the ship taking her and her father from England; he had seen her grow up, and had never been anything but kind and attentive to her. 'He is a fine man', she had often told herself, and everybody else had said so as well – nobody could righteously speak of him any differently.

Yes indeed, he was a fine man, and a smart match; the younger son of Lord Alfred Norrington, the Marquis of Crawley, had earned his merits in the Royal Navy, made a considerable fortune himself, and possessed just about any conceivable virtue. He was a decent man, utmost honourable, brilliant, courageous, modest and patient – in fact he was such a fine fellow that he couldn't have been any more boring in Elizabeth's eyes. He was friendliness itself towards her, the epitome of reliability, responsibility and steadiness, an authority for his officers, and she knew well that any number of girls in Port Royal would have sacrificed their first-born to receive an offer of marriage from him.

Smart as he may ever be, he hadn't chosen wisely when picking a bride, however, because Elizabeth hadn't been among those girls. When one grew up as the Governor's daughter in a place like Port Royal, there wasn't much to be done, so she had devoted her time to reading all sorts of books, and next to stories about pirates, she had read all the great romances. This had possibly not been the sort of lecture suitable for a young lady, but given her a strong sense as to what was important in forming engagements, and instructed her that her feelings for the Commodore weren't the proper ones a young lady should entertain when accepting a proposal.

She liked the Commodore. She liked him a lot, she had the highest regard for him, but he had never incensed the same flames in her as Will Turner had single-handedly done, without even knowing it, in the past three or four years. Will Turner – oh, what a man was Will Turner? Could there be words to describe such a marvel? Could there be words to describe her elation? Her ardent love for him? Certainly not, she had spent the whole night tossing and turning in her bed incapable of grasping her own good fortune. He had told her that he loved her! He had kissed her! He had asked her to be his for good!

Never in her life had she felt such excitement, and poor Sarah had done all she could think of to calm her mistress down to sleep, but no hot milk, no chocolate could have done the job that night.

Well, excitement such as this took its toll, and she was quite exhausted when entering the carriage to drive to the harbour. But no, no, she had to go and say goodbye. It was the only proper thing to do. She owed the Commodore that much, and thinking about it, she also owed him some apologies.

But what should she say? What could possibly reconcile him? Wasn't it far more likely that he should hate to see her, after being slighted in such fashion? In front of the entire town? And all his officers, too? She flinched with the mere recollection.

Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear...

They alighted from the carriage; in the bare sunlight, Elizabeth felt even number, and it wasn't getting any better. There he was, her erstwhile fiancé, and if she wasn't mistaken, he looked a little pale around the nose. Paler than usual, even. And not entirely pleased to see her either. Well, what had she expected, really.

With a slightly pained expression, he bowed to her father. "Good morning, Governor Swann." He turned to her, taking another bow. "Good morning, Miss Swann."

She curtseyed. "Good morning, Commodore –"

Luckily her father, apparently unaware of his daughter's awkwardness, saved her for the moment by crying cheerfully, "I see you are ready to set sails, Commodore. I shall hope that you're not to stay away for too long?"

"I can hardly say, sir," was the measured reply. "We shall not return to Port Royal before fulfilling our mission, and as we've seen, Captain Sparrow is a shrewd fellow."

"Well, when you hang him, make sure to do it elsewhere – he's too lucky in Port Royal!"

The Governor was neither coarse nor callous, and didn't possess an ounce of natural humour; the shocking remark causing his daughter to reel in guilt-ridden horror was given innocently enough. He merely meant that Captain Sparrow's hanging had been scheduled twice, and both times the hangman had been urged out of his fees. That both times his daughter had been somewhat at the root of the difficulties didn't seem to occur to the poor man for one second. All the fresher were the memories in her mind.

The Commodore appeared to think along similar lines as she, for he retorted in clipped tones, "Indeed, sir. He clearly has too many friends here, but I'm not afraid that he will be brought to justice in the end."

Regardless of her own guilty conscience in regard to the Commodore, Elizabeth couldn't stop herself. from nsapping,"To the gallows, you mean!"

It was the beginning and the end of a debate that had taken place a dozen times or so during their engagement; Elizabeth strongly objected to Jack Sparrow's execution while Commodore Norrington found it his job to doggedly pursue exactly that aim, regardless of the fact that he didn't much like the idea either. The governor had grown weary of the subject, too, so he cast his eyes to the heavens and slowly sauntered away to inspect the Dauntless instead.

Commodore Norrington's expression remained blank when he bowed slightly. "I am a mere servant of the law and as such it is my responsibility to see to it that it is obeyed, Miss Swann."

Yes, yes, alright. Elizabeth wouldn't go into that particular argument again, not today, even if it was probably her last chance to ever do so. Taking a deep breath, she plucked up all her courage and muttered, "Please, James – Commodore, I mean – let us not argue. I... Now that we are among ourselves, I should like a word..."

"Anytime," was the reply, but he didn't look at her, and her heart was sinking.

"Commodore Norrington," she began quietly, "I wish to explain to you – you must know why I… You see, I have the highest regard for you, I really have, and I want you to know that I received your – offers – with all the gratitude that could be felt by any –"

"Miss Swann," he cut her short, still avoiding her gaze by looking at some point above her right shoulder. "You need not explain yourself. You are free to do whatever you think right for yourself."

Squirming on the inside, she replied, "I cannot but thank you for that, sir. Please, you must know that I never meant to hurt you –"

He lifted his hand to stop her and finally did look into her face with a strained little smile. "Really, Miss Swann, let us talk of this no more."

"But I want you to know –"

"Believe me, I do know."

"No, you don't! You see, I don't deserve your affection and –"

Squeezing his eyes shut for a second or two, he interrupted her once more, "Oh, but you do, and I wish you all the best. I really do."

Oh, why, why couldn't he be mad with her? It'd be so much easier if only the man wasn't so bloody kind!

"But –"

"Please, Miss Swann," he said, looking like a man with a severe headache, "believe me when I tell you that – while I will always be as fond of you as our long acquaintance warrants – you need not be afraid to have caused any lasting damages. I am sure I will rally. After all, it could have come worse, couldn't it?"

She frowned and narrowed her eyes, unsure whether she could dare to say yes, even if it was clearly a rhetorical question. "Could it...?"

He smirked wryly. "Of course. You could have abandoned me in front of the altar."

She gasped and clapped her hand to her mouth, one part of her shocked, the other wanting to crack up laughing.

His smile turned gentle. "Or, in the very worst case, you could have married me after all, leaving us both wretched. Because believe it or not, I think I deserve to marry a woman who actually wants to marry me as well."

She was stumped and opened and closed her mouth for an answer a few times, but none would come. Left alone with both ends of the conversation, he proceeded in conciliatory tones, "I know that today's departure, or rather say its declared aim of finding Mr. Sparrow doesn't please you. I hope in time you can forgive me, but I do serve the crown, and cannot neglect my duties. Jack Sparrow is a pirate, and it is my job to capture him."

"I know that, Commodore," she answered weakly. "You and he both saved my life, so my prayers must be that you return soon without success, but healthy and sound."

"That is a contradiction in terms, Miss Swann, for we cannot return before having fulfilled our mission."

"Oh, you know what I mean."

He shook his head, smiling. "I never quite understood why you care for him so much. Having saved your life, he instantly progressed to threaten it."

"Ah, but that was just for show. You know how he took Nassau without firing a single shot."

"Yes, but I have yet to hear how many young ladies he threatened to throttle in the process."

He smiled and she chuckled. "Underneath all the – well, you know – he is a good man."

"And a pirate."

"And that."

"The law is for everybody, Miss Swann. Not every criminal is automatically what you call a bad person. And not every bad person is automatically a criminal. The law does not look at the man but at his deeds. And while his sacking Nassau may not have been strictly the work of a pirate, it was inarguably daylight robbery."

"Ah, he is a pirate in my books, without doubt. In fact I'd say he is a pirate like the books write about – or rather say, his spirit is, if not his manner."

"There is a wide gap between your books and the reality at sea. Because believe you me, Jack Sparrow is one of a kind. The usual pirate is much more in the way of the more unpleasant members of Captain Barbossa's crew."

Glad to maintain the lighter mood, Elizabeth replied archly, "As I had to find out at my own expense, yes... All these darned, misleading novels! Perhaps one ought to write a book about the good captain then. But I should hurry, as I must assume that you shall find him very soon."

"No need for haste, Miss Swann, you may still manage the full three volumes. After sinking the Interceptor to the bottom of the sea, Mr. Sparrow has any chance to flee us. The Dauntless is strong and nigh invincible, but she is comparably slow. Considering that Sparrow is a man of cunning, I expect him to have mended his sails, rendering the Black Pearl one of the fastest ships in these waters."

"So you have no hope of a speedy return?"

The smile disappeared and he avoided looking at her once again "No, I haven't, but don't let that worry you. Port Royal will be in the safe hands of my deputy, Captain Stansfield, and I assure you, he is a man of merit and skills. You will hardly notice our absence."

She lowered her gaze, blushing and sighing. "I cannot imagine that, Commodore. An old friend like you cannot be replaced by another, merit or not."

He opened his mouth, but shut it in the next moment and shrugged. She knew what he had been about to say, and thanked him silently for his tact. She had already replaced him once – how should he believe that she wouldn't do so again?

"Captain Stansfield is an excellent soldier, and just as famous for his pleasant manners, Miss Swann. I think you should give him a chance to prove them."

"I did not mean to be unjust to the Captain; we shall welcome him with all due kindness. All I meant was that he cannot replace you in our midst. Return safely, Commodore Norrington!"