Sorry once again about the delay, guys. This chapter was a little tricky to write...
As always, any mistakes feel free to point out! It's very appreciated!
Chapter Eight
1738
North Atlantic Ocean, The Flying Dutchman
The next day
It had been almost too perfect when Lord Beckett had informed him that he was to be stationed aboard the Flying Dutchman.
As Beckett's men stormed the main deck, his heart was pounding near-audibly and his veins sung in their want for vengeance.
However, James was not a stupid man, and it would be very foolish indeed for him to attack the Captain with so many near.
His grief over hearing of Jack's death was still like a knife in his heart, but it was blanketed by anger, and he was grateful for it, as it allowed him to think and act through the pain of loss.
So, this is the man who killed Jack. It was his only thought when he finally came face-to-face with Jones, and he had to fold his hands behind his back to keep from reaching for his sword.
Having seen the other crew, James had had some idea of what to expect of their Captain, but the pirate was even more inhuman than he could have imagined. His face was a mass of moving tentacles that impersonated a beard, his legs were deformed, and a pincer replaced one arm.
Davy Jones was utterly grotesque, and though folded, James' hands shook with barely-there restraint.
"Go. All of you. And take that infernal thing with you. I will not have it on my ship."
Ah, so Jones had seen the chest, then.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that," Lord Beckett said, appearing on the deck. "because I will. Because it seems to be the only way to ensure that this ship do as directed by the Company."
James' smirk was a small one. He may despise Beckett, but it gave him satisfaction to see that Jones was now little more than a puppet with its strings pulled taught.
Beckett gave James the signal then, and with a nod, the two men carrying the chest followed him from the deck and into the Captain's cabin.
The chest was then set upon a pedestal, and James unlocked it before lifting the lid.
The heart lay inside, unassuming as it beat out a steady rhythm.
As the order was given for the men to charge their bayonets, James had to resist the urge to shoot the heart himself.
But again, he wasn't stupid. He'd heard the rumours of what must happen to whomever killed the heart, and he now took such talk at face value. After all he'd witnessed, he was no longer sceptical of the mysteries of the world.
Oh he still planned on his attempt to kill Jones, but he had no desire to sail the seas for all eternity. He'd just have to bide his time, and as Jack would say, wait until the opportune moment.
Back on the main deck a short time later, he found himself in the presence of Lord Beckett.
"I trust you to make sure that Jones knows his place." He said to James. Around them, his men were preparing to leave for the Endeavour. "The heart is leverage enough, however, do not hesitate to use it against him should he become...difficult."
James bowed his head in acquiescence.
"On a more personal matter, our dear Governor has requested his return to England."
James' gaze cut across the deck to the Governor in question, eyes wide in surprise. "Truly?" And he frowned. Wasn't it just last night that Weatherby had told him he would not leave, it made him wonder what had transpired in such little time to change the Governor's mind.
"Indeed. He is set to leave on the next ship bound for England." But he said no more on the matter and continued before James could ask. "You'll be hearing from me, Admiral. Until then, keep Jones in his place." And then he turned on his heel and made for one of the waiting cockboats.
By this time, the Governor had already descended from the ship and was sat in another of the small boats. James suddenly realised they had no time to say their goodbyes.
As he watched the boats row away, he felt his heart sink. James had known the Governor a long time, and already, he missed his trusted friend dearly.
With Weatherby returning to England, Elizabeth somewhere in the company of pirates, and Jack dead, all at once James came to realise that everyone he cared about was either already gone, or leaving.
As he turned about to face the Dutchman's crew, suddenly, he felt more alone than ever before.
- O -
Two months later
"I want to see that ship at the bottom of the sea!"
"No." As Davy Jones turned on him, James merely lifted his chin and met his gaze steadily. "Or have you forgotten Lord Beckett's orders?"
Jones reared back, pincered hand snapping angrily.
James ignored this display. "Capture the ship." He said distinctly, before turning his back on the Captain and looking ahead to the Empress, watching with keen eyes as they gained on her.
"Roll out the guns!"
"Raise the main topyard!"
"Man the capstan, or it be the devil to pay!"
The orders were given to ready the ship, but James paid no heed, and soon they were abreast of the Empress and the shout was given to fire.
Their cannons sliced through her hull in a plume of splintered wood, smoke and fire. Screams and ragged cries of alarm rang out, but it was too late and they had no time to properly retaliate before the Dutchman's crew were boarding.
Beckett's men followed in their wake, James too, and he was furious to see Sao Feng's crew being cut down before Jones remembered his place, and ordered his men to ease their mindless killing.
Unfortunately, it did not stop the Empress's crew from trying to defend their ship, and several more were cut down by Beckett's men before they were finally captured at sword-point and held at bay.
It was as James was surveying the last struggles, that he saw the last person he ever expected to see.
As she emerged from the Captain's cabin, he was so stunned he could only stand there and stare, until finally gathering his wits. "Elizabeth."
"James..." She seemed as stunned as he. "James!" And she broke free from where one of Beckett's men held her and ran to him.
Without thinking he enveloped her in an embrace, her presence like a balm on his soul after the loss of Jack. "Thank god, you're alive. Your father will be overjoyed to know you're safe."
Elizabeth withdrew then, and looked upon him with a darkening gaze. "My father's dead."
James frowned at her. "No. No, it can't be true. He returned to England."
All traces of friendliness were gone from her face. "Did Lord Beckett tell you that?"
And suddenly, he felt the dread of realisation slither up his spine...
But before James could answer, Davy Jones was yelling from behind. "Who among you do ye name as Captain?"
One of Sao Feng's crew then pointed to Elizabeth. "Captain! Her!" And the rest of the crew were fast to confirm it.
Again James could only stare in shock, but then Jones was beside them. "Captain-"
And James interrupted him, and though reeling, he forged ahead. After all, his questions could be answered later. "Tow the ship. Put the prisoners in the brig." He ordered Jones, before turning once more to Elizabeth. "The Captain shall have my quarters."
"Thank you, sir. But I prefer to remain with my crew." And it was said with a coldness that she had never before bestowed upon him.
As she turned from him, James stopped her with a hand on her arm, suddenly feeling panicked at the realisation that he could loose her friendship. "Elizabeth, I swear. I did not know."
"Know what?" Came the scathing answer. "Which side you chose?" And she snatched her arm from his grip before backing away, looking over him with eyes filled with disappointment and disdain. "Well now you do."
- O -
In reality, his heart had already made the decision long ago, James had just needed an excuse great enough to pursue it.
When all was quiet aboard the Dutchman, he slunk down into the brig and unlocked the cell door. "Come with me." But Elizabeth did not move, merely glowered from her place amongst the Empress's crew. "Quickly!"
Finally, she nodded her assent and the crew began to file from the cell. "What are you doing?" She asked, coming closer.
"Choosing a side." He told her, putting as much sincerity into those words as he was able.
Still, she did not move to leave. "Why?"
He sighed and gave her the easiest and shortest answer so as not to dally any longer. "Because your father is dead. Because Jack is dead. I will not see you suffer the same fate."
A frown creased her brow. "Jack's not dead."
The mention of Jack's death had slipped from his mouth without thought, but he didn't care, instead he could only blink at her, his heart suddenly thundering in his chest. "What? How? But your-your father, he said so."
"Jack's not dead." She said again, but her voice was uneasy and it told James that there was a story to be told. However, he had not the time to ask. "Besides, why should you care what happened to him?" This time, she looked upon him with suspicion.
James sighed. "It is a story for another time, now come. Please."
Her eyes searched his for a moment, but finally she moved from the cell and followed him.
They made it to the stern of the ship without hindrance and Elizabeth ordered her crew to cross the rope joining the Dutchman and Empress first.
Before she herself could cross it, James turned to her. "Do not go to Shipwreck Cove. Beckett knows of the meeting with the Brethren, I fear there may be a traitor among them."
Her gaze was as hard as the set of her jaw. "It's too late to earn my forgiveness."
"I had nothing to do with your father's death." He implored and prayed she would believe him. "Though it doesn't absolve me of my other sins."
"Come with us."
James looked up sharply, and although her jaw was still set, her eyes were glassy with the beginnings of unshed tears. "James, come with me."
And though she may not have forgiven him exactly, it was clear to see that she wouldn't leave him to face his fate as a traitor.
He knew then that, though angry, Elizabeth still cared, and his relief was like the crashing of waves against rock.
"Who goes there?" The shout from above startled James, and he quickly pulled Elizabeth behind him, withdrawing his sword.
In that moment, he knew that those brief, fleeting images of following her would never come to pass. "Go! I will follow."
"You're lying."
He looked at her, and knew without doubt that he would never see her again. Or Jack. The realisation of what would come to pass should have panicked him, but instead he felt an odd sort of calm.
"Will you do something for me?" His words where hurried, urgent. "I do not deserve it, I know this. But please, I beg you, no matter what...will you give this to Jack?" And before she could react, he leant in, and kissed her.
When James withdrew her eyes were wide with shock, but he could say no more as footsteps were approaching. Their time had run out.
"Go! Now!"
And she did, but James didn't watch, instead he turned to face the crewmember who appeared before the stern. "Back to your station, sailor." He demanded, his voice steady, though pulse rapidly increasing.
"No one leaves the ship." It was said almost offhandedly, yet James eyed the wooden spike he held with trepidation.
"Stand down." He said distinctly. "That's an order."
The man looked down, his voice almost a whisper as he repeated James' words. "That's an order...part of the crew...part of the ship." And suddenly his voice began to increase in both volume and speed. "Part of the crew. Part of the ship. Part of the crew! Part of the ship!"
"Steady man!" And James knew then that it was fruitless. This man wasn't of sound mind.
"PART OF THE CREW! PART OF THE SHIP! ALL HANDS! PRISONER ESCAPE!"
James withdrew his pistol. "Belay that!" He ordered, overcome with fear that Elizabeth wouldn't make it to safety.
"James!" And there came her voice, a stream in the dark amongst the lapping of waves.
He looked about and saw her hanging from the tow-rope. To his horror, she began to claw her way back to him.
He had but an instant to pray that she didn't drown, before he raised his pistol and shot the rope free.
He turned back quickly, but was too late. A moment later, the wooden spike pierced his abdomen and his breath rushed from his lungs on a pained gasp.
"James! No!"
He barely heard the shout as his legs gave out from under him, and he slumped against the rail.
His breath was coming in panting gasps now and he felt cold, sluggish even.
Between one blink and the next he was surrounded by Jones' crew, but the humming in his ears prevented him from hearing what they said.
He was dimly aware that the pain was receding now, but felt his breath become harder to draw as the cold enveloped his entire being, leaving him numb.
Suddenly, Davy Jones was before him, and though it was like listening underwater, he heard every word the pirate spoke. "James Norrington, do you fear death?"
And with the last of his strength, he lifted his sword and thrust, running Jones through.
He wouldn't die of course, but his vow was complete. He might even have smiled had he the strength. As it was, his head was too heavy to lift and it thumped back against the rail.
As his vision dimmed and his limbs grew heavy, his last thoughts were of Jack, and he prayed that his pirate would be safe.
And then, with one final shuddered exhale of breath, James Norrington knew no more...
To be continued...
And...deep breath.
I love you, guys, please don't flame me yet.
