James exhaled in relief when Turner and Barbossa left the captain's quarters. It would be difficult enough to explain to Ona what had happened without an audience, especially an audience of that sort.
His next breath, however, caught in his throat when he looked down and found her staring straight up at him with her piercing blue gaze. James hadn't realized how much he had missed her intense presence until that moment. But she gave him an odd look, as if she was searching for something in his appearance, and then she reached upward, grabbed the neckline of his shirt, and proceeded to try and rip it open.
James nearly choked on his own shock.
"The curse! It's gone!" she exclaimed in wonderment, feeling along his collarbone and neck with her fingers. Fingers which had warmed considerably from their chilled state, and which now seemed to set his skin ablaze.
"Yes, yes it is," James responded hastily, feeling his cheeks flush. He carefully took her wrists in his hands so she would stop running her hands all over him. It was incredibly distracting. "The crewmen of the Dutchman apparently need not be monsters. They just became that way under Jones' captaincy. They needn't be held in servitude, either. Turner said only those who wish to serve may stay, and every man aboard is here because they wish to be."
Ona slowly lowered her hands and dropped them at her side, but she still looked up at him curiously.
"Then why are you still here?"
Her question, simple on the surface, left James mired in a bog of complexities.
"Well…" He cleared his throat and tried to find the correct words he wished to say. "Though Barbossa lacks any semblance of tact and decorum, he was right about what Jones had… had done to you. Do you remember?"
Ona looked down and ran her fingers across the stained tear in her dress. The gesture created an ache in his chest, directly where his heart was.
"I remember. And I remember how I failed to kill him," she said, her words sharp with bitterness. It hurt James to hear; he placed his hands back on her shoulders, delicately, as if he believed she would fall to pieces under their weight. It was amusing to think, considering how he had no doubt she was one of the strongest individuals he knew.
"You're here. You're alive. Jones isn't. I would say that's a victory, wouldn't you?"
She raised her head and met his eye, his expression searching and almost vulnerable.
"Tell me what happened after."
So James recounted the battle, how Sparrow saved Turner's life by using his hand, holding the knife, to stab the heart. He recalled how the Dutchman and the Pearl worked in tandem to decimate Beckett's flagship, and how the Royal Navy had fled afterwards after having decided facing the entire pirate fleet was not worth the effort.
How strange it was for James to see the nation he had given most of his life to as the villain in this story.
"And then Turner called upon Calypso to save you, and she did so, healing the wound Jones had inflicted upon you."
Ona's expression was quite different than he would have expected. It was grim rather than relieved or hopeful.
"What did she ask in return?"
James felt like a fish flopping on a sandy shore, unable to find his way back into safe waters.
"How do you know she did?" he asked, evasive.
"Gods do not grant boons for free," was all she would say on the matter. James gave a sigh and rubbed his forehead, hoping to relieve the tension there.
"She was… circumspect on the exact price to be paid. But she did make it clear that you were… rendered powerless by someone else. Is that true?"
Her lips formed into a thin line as she said, "It is. It happened nearly three decades ago, cast by a pirate my sisters and I had crossed. Franklin, he… he found me soon after that."
Her face fell at remembering the loss of her companion, but she pressed onward. "What else did she tell you?"
"Just that she demands your former powers be restored, and once they are, you should… return to the sea." James elected not to tell her the strange part about him possibly having to sacrifice everything. There was no need to worry about that until it was clear what everything entailed.
"Did she say how this is to be done?" she asked, brows creased with focus.
"Only that we should take you home," James said slowly.
Ona narrowed her eyes. "That's all she told you?"
"I was hoping you could shed some additional light on what she meant," James answered, feeling sweat bead on his forehead at her intense scrutiny. There was no possible way she could know he wasn't giving her the entire story. At least, that's what he told himself.
"Perhaps start by telling me where it is you call home?"
"That depends," Ona responded, her voice gone quiet. "My home since I've lived as a human was aboard the Mariner's Lament. My home in my previous life, I do not know."
James frowned. "I'm sorry, previous life?"
She looked up at him, her eyebrows raised as if in surprise.
"Of course. You know how our kind come into being, don't you?"
"Not… particularly," James responded, feeling the fool even though most believed mermaids were not real, let alone possessed intimate knowledge about them. Ona studied his features, as if checking to see if he was teasing her.
"Well, our kind, which you know as mermaids, are not born. We were mortal once. Human. We are those lost at sea." Her eyes dropped somewhere across his chest, her eyes distant. "Most of us had violent deaths, our bodies disposed of in the currents. When a mermaid finds such a body, they can… bring them back."
James blinked at her, stunned. "And you… you were resurrected?"
She raised her head to meet his eye once more, expression thoughtful. "It's not quite like returning a person's soul to a corpse. We are… different. Changed. Imbued with the magic of the sea. We retain no memories of our past; all we know is this new life. After we acclimate to our changed forms, we roam the seas in pods, doing what we will."
"Yes," James responded in a low voice. "I've heard the tales."
Ona gave him a reproachful look. "Not all of us ravage ships and destroy the lives of men. Many chose to save them."
She didn't say which she path she had chosen, and James didn't ask. He was not one to judge someone's past misdeeds. His own record would have been a strike against him.
And besides that, the coward in him didn't want to know.
"So, Calypso most likely didn't mean your home during your previous mortal life. What about your life as a… a mermaid?" James asked, still having trouble even now using the word in any serious context.
"Yes," Ona said, her eyes brightening in a way that James rarely saw. "Though trying to determine my home as a mermaid is even less useful. The ocean in its entirety was my home."
"Is there a… merfolk town or city of some kind? A place you gather in large numbers?" he asked, realizing how ridiculous his question must have been from the dubious look on her face.
"A city? Under the water?"
"I know, I know, it was a rather stupid thought, wasn't it?"
"I—no, actually. You might have the right idea." She seemed to be speaking to herself more than him now as she said, "A place where we gather in large numbers…" Her lips curled into a smile as she shook her head. "Of course. Why didn't I think of it? Whitecap Bay!"
James was so enthralled by the sight of her smile that it took a moment for him to process the words Whitecap Bay, and when he had, a stone dropped in his stomach.
"Whitecap Bay," he repeated in a strained voice. "I know the place. Or at least, I've heard terrifying stories about the cove."
"Yes. I suppose you have," Ona responded in a quieter voice. She stepped away from him and James allowed his arm to drop from around her shoulder. He had to restrain himself from reaching toward her, which struck him as very odd considering he had never been the tactile sort before.
"Men of the sea know not to venture into the bay for fear of being dragged overboard and… eaten by my sisters." Ona hugged her arms to herself, as if shielding herself from the world. Or perhaps, from him. James resisted the urge to offer her comfort, knowing it would not be wanted, and besides that, it would hardly be appropriate. Now that the danger had passed and Ona was well again, James would have to distance himself from her, both emotionally and physically.
James knew this, and yet, the reality was much harder to accept than he thought.
"Perhaps Whitecap Bay would be a good place to start, then," James offered, his tone kind to try and show her he didn't hold her personally responsible for the nature of her people.
"It will be dangerous. There's a reason why my sisters are particularly aggressive there," she said, turning half-way towards him. James could see the frown on her lips. "We have been protecting the island for tens of thousands of years. It's not just a place of gathering—it's also the home of a fount of power. I believe humans refer to it as the Fountain of Youth."
Ona had delivered all of this as if she had been reciting the history of the economics of Spain instead of divulging one of the greatest mysteries of the seas.
"I apologize, but, can you repeat that?" he asked faintly.
"Whitecap Bay is the home of what you call the Fountain of Youth?" Ona repeated, her unsure tone stating is a question.
"Oh, you must be joking."
She tilted her head at a slight angle, brow creased in a way he found wholly endearing.
"Ona," James said with a sharp exhalation of air that could have been a laugh, "I can believe quite a lot of things at this point, considering all I have seen and experienced, but… a fountain of eternal life?"
"It doesn't give eternal life," Ona said while deepening her frown. "It's not meant for humans at all, but they have found a way to twist its purpose and use it for themselves."
"How so?" he asked, having a suspicion he wouldn't like the answer. He was right.
"Well…" she said, haltingly. "Humans have discovered a way, using the fountain, to steal the life of another. Taking all the years they would have seen had they been allowed to live out the rest of their days. It is powerful but profane magic."
James felt a chill seep into his spine. And a man must sacrifice everything. Calypso must have known about the Fountain, what it truly did, and now that James examined his memory more closely, her intense gaze held new clarity for him.
"Perhaps the power of the Fountain itself will break the curse?" James offered, striving to keep his tone open and inconspicuous.
Ona gave him a thoughtful look and said, "Perhaps. The Fountain has always been a source of restoration for my kind. It… makes sense that it could have the power to break the curse."
James nodded, satisfied that either way, Whitecap Bay was their correct destination. He could only guess at what destiny it held for them, but there was no doubt it was the right course.
"I'll tell Turner our new heading." James turned to leave, but then hesitated and looked back at Ona. She returned his gaze with a questioning one of her own. "You should… get some rest. I doubt the Dutchman has much in the way of amenities, but we're still attached to the Pearl, and I know Sparrow won't deny you food and board."
James knew it, because while Sparrow was a pompous ass and a filthy scoundrel, he was also predictable. He wouldn't turn away a pretty woman in need.
That thought filled James with an unexpected dose of jealous anger. Unsurprising, though, considering Sparrow and Elizabeth's past interactions.
Elizabeth. He hadn't thought about her since—
"I've slept long enough," Ona answered dourly. But then her eyes warmed, losing their icy chill, and she said, "But food sounds very agreeable." She walked passed him but paused as she reached the doorway, placing her hand upon the frame as she looked over her shoulder.
"Thank you, James Norrington. For… everything."
And then she disappeared through the doorway, leaving James alone with his conflicted emotions and confused feelings. It would take him a long while to sort them out and come to terms with everything that had happened.
But there was one thing James did know, felt with a certainty he had not experienced in a long time. If the rest of his years, his immortal years, would free Ona from the curse placed upon her, James found it a fair price to pay.
As you could prob tell from this chapter, im setting the stage for part 2! Which is also my big announcement! Im almost done with writing the outline as we speak. On Stranger Tides here we come*
*with massive changes and rewrites