Since you guys had to wait so long for the last Chapter (and as it seems I'm on a roll) I'd thought get another finished and posted today!
As always, feel free to point out any mistakes! Thank you.
Hope you enjoy...
Chapter Six
1738
Caribbean Sea, near Isla Cruces
"You're pullin' too fast."
"You're pullin' too slow. We don't want the Kraken to catch us."
James rolled his eyes. There was no such thing as a 'Kraken', though it didn't surprise him that the two imbeciles currently rowing them to shore thought so.
Pintel scoffed. "I'm savin' me strength fer when it comes. And I don't think it's 'Krak-en', anyways. I always heard it said 'Kray-ken'."
"What, with a long 'a'?" Pintel asked. "Na, na, na, na, na. "Krock-en's' how it's pronounced in the original Scandinavian, and 'Krack-en's' closer to that."
James honestly couldn't believe what he was hearing, 'educated' pirates? Surely the world was coming to an end.
He shared a long-suffering look with Elizabeth and wondered, not for the first time, how he'd managed to be involuntarily stuffed aboard this vessel in the first place...
Ah yes, of course.
Jack didn't trust him aboard his precious Pearl without himself there to keep watch, not after the incident with the Letters of Marque at any rate.
"Well, we ain't no original Scandinavians, are we?" Pintel grumbled, before emphasising his point; "'Kray-ken'"
And now Ragetti sounded petulant. "It's a mythological creature, I can call it what I wants."
James sighed and looked imploringly out to sea, hoping to god that they reached shore sooner rather than later.
Thankfully, they did so. And with quick orders from Jack, Pintel and Ragetti were left to guard the boat, and he no longer had to listen to those two argue about things that were beyond their level of intelligence.
A short while later found he, Elizabeth and Jack walking along the sandy banks of the Isla Cruces in search of the 'chest'. Of course, what James hadn't anticipated, was the near unbearable heat of the sun, and since he wore his heavy naval coat, and was lumbered with two shovels, he trudged behind the other two, less than pleased to be bought on this entirely absurd pursuit.
Oh, he no longer doubted that a chest did, in fact, exist. But he certainly didn't believe Jack's adamant claims as to what lay inside it, nor that his compass could lead them to it.
Eventually however, their quest came upon a hindrance, and they stopped as Elizabeth tried to figure out which way they should head next.
"This doesn't work." Elizabeth exclaimed with frustration, sitting heavily upon the sand. "And it certainly doesn't show you what you want most."
Was James smug? Well, only a little.
Jack came over to investigate then, and James awaited in bated breath for the next ridiculous thing that he was to no doubt utter.
"Yes it does. You're sitting on it."
Elizabeth looked up at him bewildered. "Beg-pardon?"
James waved his arms at her with impatience. "Move."
She did so without fuss and then Jack whistled at him, like some stay dog, and indicated that he should start digging a hole.
Though affronted to be treated thus, like Elizabeth, he didn't protest, merely thrust one shovel upright in the ground and took up the other in both hands.
Perhaps it was because of the curiosity, and that it was finally getting the better of him, that he began to dig without complaint. But then, it may also have been because he actually felt guilty for his actions in Jack's cabin. Not over trying to take the letters, of course. But for his drunken actions that had clearly lead the other man to believe that James' intentions were more than he'd previously made them out to be.
It wasn't honourable of him at all, rum or no.
At first, he hadn't remembered what had happened, but as complete sobriety returned, eventually his memories did too, though incomplete and blurred by rum. And yes, he felt entirely guilty and ashamed of himself. Of course, that wasn't all he felt about the matter, but he certainly wasn't going to analyse those feelings anytime soon. Better that he put them to the back of his mind and pretend like that whole accursed night never happened.
But of course, even James' patience and charitably had it's limits, and as Jack simply sat there, not even offering to help at all, James considered the benefits of thwacking the pirate over the head with the shovel.
However, that was before the sound of wood meeting wood resounded from below.
James couldn't even speak for shock as all three of them gathered close to look, then, they hurriedly dug out the chest with their bare hands, eager to open it.
By god, Jack had actually told the truth. The compass had lead them to the chest.
Once retrieved, the lock was easily broken and Jack opened the lid with a creek of unused hinges.
Inside lay and array of sealed letters, but beneath that, a smaller chest made of intricately patterned wrought iron.
Jack hesitated but a moment, before he warily lifted the chest from within.
James felt like a fool, Jack had told the truth about the compass, about the chest, and he wondered, was the pirate also right about the heart? Suddenly, he had to know.
Like before, all three leant in and there was a moment of silence. Then...they heard it.
A heartbeat.
James knelt back in awe and shock, and suddenly, he felt ungrounded. Everything he thought he knew to be truth, was a lie.
Oh he had been so, so stupid. So utterly foolish and blinded by his own distrust that it was beyond comprehension.
"It's real." Elizabeth's voice sounded just as shocked as he felt.
"You actually were telling the truth." He told Jack, and he meant so much more than was actually said.
"I do that quite a lot, you people are always surprised." And James had to concede that he had a fair point.
"With good reason."
James' head snapped up at the unfamiliar voice, and he was dumbfounded to see young William Turner, of all people, standing not to far away and dripping wet with seawater.
"Will!" And Elizabeth rushed happily to his side. "You're alright, thank god. I came to find you!"
As they embraced, James gave them their privacy by way of adverting his eyes. But in truth, at least to himself, it was because their kiss reminded him of the ones he'd recently shared with Jack. Something that was painful to remember, and something he'd rather forget.
"How did you get here?" Jack asked then.
"Sea turtles, mate. A pair of them strapped to my feet."
James frowned. Clearly he was missing something, but more than that, William's voice held a sharp undercurrent, something that James had never thought to hear, especially directed at Jack Sparrow.
"Not so easy, is it?" Jack replied, apparently knowing what he was talking about and seeming to miss the edge heard in the other man's voice.
"But I do owe you thanks, Jack." And this time, it was said openly sarcastic.
"You do?"
"After you tricked me onto that ship to square your debt with Jones..."
Elizabeth turned to Jack. "What?"
Never let it be said that Jack didn't have a strong survival instinct, because he finally seemed to realise he was treading in deep water. "What?" He echoed, playing terribly at being oblivious.
"I was reunited with my father." William continued.
Jack smiled uneasily. "Oh...er, you're welcome then."
And suddenly, Elizabeth was furious. "Everything you said to me, every word was a lie?!"
To his credit, Jack didn't try and deny it. "Pretty much. Time and tide, luv." He then noticed that William had the key and was kneeling in front of Davy Jones' chest. "Oi, what are you doin'?"
"I'm going to kill Jones." He said plainly.
An instant later, Jack had his sword unsheathed and it was pointed at Turner's throat. "I can't let you do that, William. Cause if Jones is dead, who's to call his terrible beasty off the hunt, eh?"
Conceding to defeat, William slowly got to his feet.
"Now, if you please...the key." And Jack held out his hand.
But while this new drama had been unfolding, James had been allowed a short time to gather his thoughts, and gather them he did.
With the chest and heart actually real, and within his grasp, the Letters of Marque held little value in the face of something far greater. With those letters, he could go about living as an honest man, reputation forever tarnished, but honest nonetheless. However, with the heart, he could get something far more worthy...his life. And just as it was before.
And he knew just the person who had the ability to grant such a thing...
"I keep the promises I make, Jack." William said then, and suddenly, he seized Elizabeth's sword. "I intend to free my father, I hope you're here to see it-"
James quickly made his own move and unsheathed his blade. "I can't let you do that either. So sorry." He added, almost as an afterthought.
Of course, Jack then thought the former-Commodore was on his side. "I knew you'd warm up to me eventually-" But his words abruptly died when James swung his sword in the pirate's direction.
"Lord Beckett desires the contents of that chest." He clarified. "I deliver it, I get my life back."
"Ah, the dark side of ambition." And Jack's eyes were mocking, though James didn't miss the disappointment, disgust and hurt that lurked beneath.
But he didn't care, for the prize was right there for the taking. "Oh I prefer to see it as the promise of redemption." And it was he who swung the first blow, and soon, all three of them were fighting one another, unaware of the approaching danger and Elizabeth's outrage as she looked on.
- O -
James couldn't make sense of what he was seeing. At first he thought it was merely due to dizziness, but as his eyesight cleared, it seemed that in the time he and Turner had been battling within the waterwheel, an army of deformed, fish-like pirates had invaded the beach.
He blinked and looked again, but no, his eyes weren't betraying him. Nor was he going mad.
It truly seemed that the horrors of this world would never cease, and James was almost willing to believe that perhaps there was a Kraken after all.
However, being a man of logic more often than not, he quickly realised the opportunity that had presented itself.
With Jack thoroughly distracted and locked in his own battle, his coat was left unattended in the cockboat just a small distance away.
With the enemy pirates now swarming the beach, the chest was long out of his reach and James would take what he could get. The Letters of Marque would at least afford him some sort of life, and it was definitely better than nothing at all.
With that in mind, James made for the boat at a run, and luck seemed to be on his side for he made it without hindrance.
It only took a moment for him to have the letters in hand, but as he smiled in his victory, noticed that Jack's jar of dirt had been partially emptied, and it's contents now lay scattered across the bench.
He looked up at Jack and where the pirate fought, a thought suddenly forming in his mind. Surely he couldn't have...
But, when he opened the jar, almost laughed at how devious Jack Sparrow was. Of course he had.
With a brief look around to see that the others were making their way towards the boat, James wasted no time in retrieving the heart and hiding it within the inner folds of his coat. He took the letters, too, for extra reassurance.
As he'd said before, Jack would have little use for them anyway.
Realising that the boat was being surrounded, James gripped his sword and turned to join the fight.
Up close, the disfigured pirates seemed even more grotesque and unnatural, and it only served to encourage James' wish to be rid of them.
Mere moments later, the pirates were closing in, and, as he and Elizabeth rallied closer to the boat, they noticed William laying unconscious next to Jones' chest.
Even James had to admit that it all seemed rather hopeless.
"We're not getting out of this." Elizabeth declared.
"Not with the chest." And he reached for it in a moments decision, ordering; "Into the boat!"
"You're mad!"
He spared her a glance, the wonder of whether he'd ever see her again there and gone before he could truly grasp it. "Don't wait for me." James demanded, and prayed that Elizabeth would listen as he fled the beach with the chest.
James had fast legs, but only so much stamina, and all too soon the sounds of pursuit grew louder.
Having already planned to discard the chest at a safe enough distance from the beach – so that the others may have enough time to escape – he was dismayed when he tripped and fell into the foliage not nearly far enough away.
When he looked up, he was surrounded.
Slowly, James got to his feet, taking the chest with him. For the first time, he felt a slither of unease race down his spine.
Was this to be his end?
"Your bravery is wasted." One pirate said, his head resembling that of a shell. "I shall pry the chest away from your cold, dead hands..."
James had no reason to keep the chest any longer, so he threw it to the pirate without further encouragement. "Here you go!" And though his legs and lungs burned, he turned tail and ran onward, praying that they would be too occupied by their victory to follow.
- O -
Cutler Beckett was a sour looking man, James thought when he was lead into the Lord's office at Fort Charles.
Seeing that he was reading over the Letters of Marque, taken from his own person days before, it was doubtful that he'd missed James' signature, and as such, he saw no reason to formally introduce himself. "I took the liberty of filling in my name."
Beckett glanced up at him, his lips curling almost imperceptibly into a smile that was not kind, but cunning.
He waved James forward. "If you intend to claim these, then you must have something to trade. Do you have the compass?"
James shook his head, ignoring the uneasy feeling that was worming into his stomach. "Better." And he smirked as he dropped the sack containing his freedom onto the tabletop. "...The heart of Davy Jones."
Beckett didn't bother to hide the gleam in his eyes as he simply stared at the beating-sack for several moments. "Just so." He said finally, and then he nodded at Mister Mercer, who moved quickly to remove and stow the heart safely away. "And just what can I do for you in exchange for the heart?"
James levelled him with a stare. "I want my life back."
Beckett reclined in his chair. "Ah, so you wish to be reinstated at a Commodore. How very unambitious of you."
James could only blink at him, momentarily at a loss over the turn of conversation.
"Mister Norrington, loyalty is hard to come by in these waters." He stood then, and moved across the room to pick up a crystal decanter. "Drink?" When James shook his head, Beckett turned and poured two glasses anyway. "I will not be reinstating you as Commodore."
James' lips were parted in dismay and shock when Beckett turned to face him once more, both glasses in hand. "A service done for me, is one that I repay in kind. And I think that the position of Admiral will suit your loyalty far better. Drink?"
And this time, James accepted, suddenly, and thoroughly, overwhelmed by what he was being offered.
Taking that as a sign of James' acceptance, Beckett have a small, satisfied smile. "You may have already served me well, Admiral, but I expect great things from you yet. See to it that you do not disappoint me." And he raised his glass in a silent toast before taking a sip.
It was only later, when James was dressed once more in the finery afforded for naval officers, his face shaven, and wig firmly in place, did he realise why he still felt so uneasy.
Guilt.
And by all accounts he shouldn't. He'd willingly betrayed those he cared about, and those he barely tolerated, for this life. And yet...now that he was here, now that his mind had had time to process everything that had happened; it all felt somehow wrong. The unsettled feeling just simply would not go and there was a nagging at the back of his mind that he couldn't quite grasp.
As James looked at his reflection, it seemed as though he was looking at a man who's time had long since past. A man who was almost unrecognisable to him now.
He breathed in slowly and exhaled equally so, smoothing down the rich fabric of his new coat.
Admiral James Norrington. He should be pleased, he had everything he'd set out to accomplish, yet his mind was elsewhere. Notably, on the Pearl and her blasted Captain, and the fact that the next time he saw Jack, it was probably going to be through the cannon smoke that wafted between shots.
To be continued...
Ah, the end of another film. Still, one to go! :-)
