Much of the dialogue in this chapter is taken directly from the film. Obviously I don't own any of the characters aside from my own original ones. Thank you again for your continued support; I greatly enjoy any sort of feedback. Hope you enjoy!
Surprise did not correctly describe what James felt when he recognized Elizabeth amongst the crew of the conquered Empress. Horror was more like it; horror that she was yet again amongst pirates, that she felt desperate enough to be there with them, and horror that she was here to witness his own work with pirates.
After Ashlynne had beat a hasty retreat some weeks before, James had been deposited onboard the Flying Dutchman and since then had been witness to more than a few pirate annihilations. With each attack James felt an inkling of fear that Ashlynne would be onboard one of the ships they destroyed, but thus far they had not encountered any seamen or women that James had known. Except for now with Elizabeth.
"Thank God you're alive." He rushed forward, trying to single her out before Jones did. "Your father will be overjoyed to know you're safe."
A silent moment passed, recognition and disgust both flickering across Elizabeth's face as she tipped her head up and finally gave James a look of utter contempt. "My father's dead." She spat the words out at him like a curse.
No," James felt his heart wrench, as if it knew the truth of her words before his mind could, "that can't be true he…" James couldn't look at her anymore, not when he began to register the likelihood of her truth versus the truth he'd been told, "he returned to England." His voice no longer held conviction and Elizabeth seemed to recognize that when she sneered at him in response.
"Did Lord Beckett tell you that?" She shook her head and looked past him towards Jones.
Davy Jones then paced in front of them, his tentacled beard swaying to and fro in a disgusting dance, "Who among you do you name as captain?"
The crew pointed towards Elizabeth and one of the crew named her as well. Elizabeth squared her shoulders in response and stared directly into Jones' when he stood before her. James had always admired her tenacity and spirit, though he feared now it'd get her killed before too long. Davy Jones was not in the least like Barbossa or Sparrow, and Beckett would not hesitate to kill her as well—if what she said about her father was true and in his heart he knew it was so.
"Captain?" The creature-man looked Elizabeth up and down for a moment before a raspy sound came from his throat; the closest thing to a laugh he could muster no doubt. Jones shook his head before he turned and headed towards his quarters, leaving James to issue the orders.
"Tow their ship; put the prisoners in the brig." As Jones' men began to push the crew away James stepped towards Elizabeth. "The Captain shall have my quarters."
Elizabeth glared at him and judging from her look wished him dead, "Thank you sir, but I prefer to remain with my crew." James noticed how the crew cringed at her words and how they shied away from her when she attempted to join them.
"Elizabeth!" He grabbed her arm to stay her. "I swear, I did not know."
Elizabeth pivoted on her heel and jerked her arm out of his grasp. For a moment he thought she might strike him as well but instead she clenched and unclenched her fists by her sides as she spoke. "Know what? Which side you chose?" She looked him up and down, past him to where Jones had disappeared, and then back to his face again. Her lips curled again into a sneer. "Well now you do."
Before James could reply, even if he had the words to do so, Elizabeth was ushered away with "her" crew. He stood dumbfounded on the deck of the Dutchman, all the past accusations thrown at him by Ashlynne, his own self-hatred, and now Elizabeth's condemnation eating away at his heart. Perhaps his heart was just as black as Beckett's and Jones'; perhaps there would be no redemption for him after all.
After the shock wore off James moved to the railing of the ship and looked out at the dying light of the sun. No, the more he contemplated it, the more he found no plausible path for redemption this side of the Locker.
"How do you reckon we are supposed to get the ring now? The Empress is taken and from the looks of it Sao Feng is most likely dead." Devlin lowered his spyglass and looked to Ashlynne. She stood with her arms crossed, her lower lip drawn between her teeth, eyes narrowed. It was her "thinking" face and Devlin knew better than to interrupt her when she looked like that.
Ashlynne, unaware that she even had a "thinking" face, was merely glad they hadn't been spotted by the Dutchman yet. It was sheer luck that the winds had kicked up a mist that hovered over the sea and they'd remained inside it as they'd trailed some ways behind the Empress. They'd hung back even further because of a rigging malfunction and had only just caught up in time to see the last bit of the Empress' stand against the Dutchman. Now, with the setting sun, so long as they made no light and the moon was not overly bright, they could continue to trail her, mayhaps even draw close enough to send out a dingy for a small boarding party.
The last bit she relayed to Parlan and waited until he nodded his confirmation. They would wait till nightfall then Ashlynne, Parlan, Ishmael, and Devlin would row over to the Empress and board her, all in the hopes that they hadn't thrown Sao Feng's body overboard.
It was still, the air a blanket of moisture, as James made his way around sleeping crewmen. It was late and no one would suspect what he was about to do; at least that was his hope. So long as he could get her to safety, it didn't matter what happened to him. If he could do at least one last good, selfless thing then he felt his soul could find rest within him.
There were no guards when he arrived in the hold of the ship, the brig sitting unguarded before him, crowded with the Empress' crew. A few of the men stood when they spotted him, one of them nudged Elizabeth and she stood as well, her face drawn down in a frown. He didn't say anything as he hurried forward and withdrew the keys.
"Come with me." He opened the door and gestured for them to follow. When they didn't move he sighed. " Quickly!"
Elizabeth eyed him a moment longer before she nodded and the rest of her crew filed out around her. James reached down and grabbed her hand, tugging her along behind him as together they hurried through the bowels of the ship.
"What are you doing?" Elizabeth whispered to him as they moved along the abandoned deck.
He gave her a sad smile, "Choosing a side."
They rounded the corner and he gestured to the tow line. Elizabeth in turn ordered her men to cross while she stood to the side with James. In the moonlight he could see her youthful beauty, the beauty he'd convinced himself he loved at one point in time years ago—all the while trying to hide away from his feelings for Ashlynne. The juxtaposition between the two women was astounding and for a moment he saw Ashlynne in front of him and not Elizabeth. He felt her presence beside him, thanking him for finally choosing her side and urging him to not bend too far or else he'd be broken. When Elizabeth turned to him, her face open and no longer holding hatred for him, just sadness, he felt his heart clench. He'd most likely never see her or Ashlynne again and a small portion of his soul warmed in response, because he knew it would be because both women would be free of the ropes he'd help to put around them. This was the first step towards redemption.
"Do not go to Shipwreck Cove," he reached out and placed his hands on her shoulders, "Beckett knows of the meeting of the Brethren, and I fear there may be a traitor among them."
Elizabeth rolled her shoulders and he relinquished his hold in response. "It's too late to earn my forgiveness." Her face grew shuttered again and she glanced back to her men, the last of them finally hoisting themselves onto the tow line, leaving only her still on board.
"I had nothing to do with your father's death." He sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "But that does not absolve me of my other sins." In an instant he remembered Ashlynne, her deaths, her pain, and the truths she'd thrown at him. He remembered the deaths of all his men that he'd sacrificed in his efforts to capture Sparrow. He remembered his deals with Beckett, a incarnation of the devil, and he knew that what slice of redemption he may gain from helping Elizabeth would not wash him clean entirely.
"Come with us." Her voice brought him back and he looked up to see her reaching for him. Her hands then clasped his as she continued, "James, come with me."
A voice from above had them both jumping, "Who goes there?" Hurried footsteps followed and James shook his hands free from Elizabeth's grasp.
"Go, I will follow." He pushed her towards the tow line and turned to face whoever it was that had spotted them.
"You're lying." Elizabeth had moved to stand by his side instead of getting on the tow line as he'd intended.
He felt his heart soften once more and the memories of hope, acquired through a future with her, came back to haunt him. "Our destinies have been entwined Elizabeth, but never joined." He reached out and drew her close, lightly pressing his lips against hers in their first and, he knew now, only kiss. When he pulled back he smiled down at her bright eyes, "Go now!" He pushed her again and this time she complied. James heaved a sigh of relief once her feet were no longer on the deck and turned to face a looming figure that had suddenly appeared from around the corner. "Back to your station, sailor."
"No-one leaves the ship." The figure came closer and James recognized him as Bootstrap Bill.
He drew his sword and held it at bay, "Stand down. That's an order."
"That's an order..." Bootstrap was looking past him to the tow line where Elizabeth and her crew had scurried. His movements were sluggish and his words were slurred as he lumbered closer, "Part of the crew, part of the ship. Part of the crew, part of the ship. Part of the crew, part of the ship!"
James waved his sword slightly in front of Bootstrap's face as he backed towards the tow line, "Steady man!"
Bootstrap continued forward, unaware or unmindful of James' sword, chanting, "Part of the crew, part of the ship!" Suddenly he turned his head and yelled out, "All hands, prisoners escape!"
"Belay that!" James yelled just as loud but he knew it was too late.
He withdrew his pistol and turned on his heel. He saw that Elizabeth was fairly close to the Empress and so no longer feared for her safety. Without further hesitation he shot the towline, the rope falling into the sea in response. He thought he heard Ashlynne scream his name and for a moment he wondered why she'd do that and how could she be there, but then he looked down and saw a blade embedded in his chest, fiery pain erupting out from it when Bootstrap withdrew the blade as suddenly as he'd thrust it in.
James felt his knees give out and he fell to the deck in a slump. Was this how Ashlynne had felt when she'd died all those slow deaths? A slow leaking away of his life force, giving him time to regret but no time to redeem? He looked up through his haze of pain and saw the tentacle covered face of Davy Jones hovering before him.
"James Norrington, do you fear death?" James would not be a part of this any longer, he refused. With his last strength he thrust his sword in the direction of Jones' heart, no longer caring that the effort would be fruitless. He faintly heard Jones snort then say, "I take that as a no."
James could no longer keep his eyes open as he felt his body grow weightless even while his chest grew heavy with each labored breath. He heard Jones comment on his sword and then felt hands grasp his shoulders and ankles. A moment of weightlessness and then he was entombed in the freezing grasp of the sea. What little air he had managed before was squelched out of him and James felt neither the energy nor the desire to struggle for life. Instead he lay still and allowed himself to die the death Ashlynne had predicted years before. He had bent too far and now he was broken.
He only wished that he had been able to tell Ashlynne of this before…
"Keep a hold of that line damn you!" Parlan growled at Ishmael as he tried to steady the dingy, the wake of the Dutchman making it difficult to maintain their position. "We don't want to lose her!"
Ishmael nodded and wrapped another coil of rope around his arm as he braced his legs against the side of the dingy. Parlan had only barely managed to tie the end of it to Ashlynne's waist before she'd gone and thrown herself into the depths after James' sinking body. He heard Devlin hiss by his side and he glanced over to see that the Empress was moving in their direction, either in pursuit of the Dutchman or because that was they way they were pointed, Parlan didn't know and at the moment didn't particularly care. He growled out a string of curses and together, with Devlin, they rowed as hard as they could to try and get out of the way. Moments passed and the Empress brushed the side of their bow, throwing them into an uneven spin. Parlan gritted his teeth as he tried to maintain ballast, not wanting to join James and Ashlynne in the dark waters.
"Hold the line." He heard himself growl while he in turn tried to end their spin once the Empress had moved fully past.
The dingy had only barely stopped its spinning when he heard Ashlynne's voice, faint from the distance between where she'd surfaced and their new position. Though his arms burned, Parlan threw himself into rowing once more, Devlin working just as hard, while Ishmael pulled at the rope to bring Ashlynne closer in turn. Once he could make out her form in the moonlight he saw that she held James' body in her arms, her legs frantically kicking to keep them both afloat. Even in the moonlight Parlan recognized the paleness of death and he wondered for a moment if they'd been too late. Pushing the thought aside he reached down and hoisted James' body into the dingy while Ishmael worked at hauling Ashlynne in as well.
"Quick!" Ashlynne gasped out once onboard. "The dagger." She had slipped Sao Feng's ring on her hand as soon as they'd retrieved it from his body earlier and now it was up to Parlan to hand her the dagger; he'd kept it strapped to his waist ever since nabbing it in Port Royal.
In his haste to give it to her he dropped it and cursed and dropped it again but finally her freezing fingers gripped its handle and he sat back again. Parlan watched as Ashlynne withdrew the pendant and after a deep breath sliced at the chain with the dagger. He let out the breath he'd been holding when they heard the snipping of the chain in the still air between them. The pendant fell to the bottom of the dingy and it was Devlin who reached down and took hold of it while Ashlynne set aside the dagger. The chain had remade itself by the time Ashlynne took it from Devlin's grasp, further proving its magical qualities, and quickly lifted James' head in order to slip it around his neck.
"What now?" Devlin asked, his eyes wide as he watched the deathly still form of James lying across Ashlynne's lap.
Parlan saw no immediate change in James and so took up his oar again, "We row back to the ship." He nudged Devlin and kicked at Ishmael's foot. They would offer Ashlynne what little privacy they could in this moment by busying themselves.
Ashlynne body quaked with cold and fear as she stared down at the unmoving body of James. Had she been too late? Had he fully died before she could get the pendant around his neck? As Devlin and the others took up their oars again she frowned. She was not about to let this be the end. She had not succeeded at breaking her own curse only to be too late in saving James from his own. His ideals had cursed him to this death; she'd predicted that years before and she hated that her intuition had proven true yet again.
"No you don't." She growled then and shifted her body and James with her until she had a better angle. "You will not die like this James Norrington." She made a fist and raised it high in the air above his chest. "Don't prove me right you bastard." She brought her fist down as hard as she could, James' body convulsing slightly in response.
Seeing this as a good sign she did it again, and again, and again, and it wasn't until Hope called her name that she realized they were floating beside their own ship. She stopped just long enough for Ishmael and Parlan to wrap a rope about James' shoulders so that Devlin and a few others could hoist him up over the side of the ship. Ashlynne quickly scrambled up behind him. By the time she was on deck Hope was already hovering over his body, pounding on his chest as she had before, though in addition to this she saw her sister seal her lips against James' and breath into them, James' chest momentarily inflating in response.
"Orders?" Ishmael spoke then but Ashlynne couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene of her sister and James.
Parlan blocked her view only for a moment as he passed in front of her to stand by Ishmael. "We sail for Shipwreck Island. Beckett is still at large and we've a debt to settle with Sparrow."
Ashlynne wasn't sure if the crew hesitated or not but soon enough she heard them finishing tying off the dingy before weighing anchor and making way. She was only aware of her sluggish movements as she moved to kneel beside Hope and James. Hope continued her ministrations, seemingly unfatigued from all her efforts. In fact, it seemed that she would've continued for hours if it hadn't been for Ashlynne herself who reached out and placed her hand on Hope's shoulder. When Hope looked up Ashlynne shook her head. It was too late.
"Never." Hope whispered to her, almost as if she'd heard Ashlynne's thoughts.
As if to punctuate her sentence they both fell back in surprise and perhaps a good dose of fear when a haggard gasp escaped James' mouth.