A/N: I'm back! I promise I haven't abandoned this story. In fact, I have the whole thing outlined so it's not so much a matter of coming up with ideas as it is getting myself to stop procrastinating and write already. Sorry this chapter's kind of short. The next one will be longer. Enjoy!
It wasn't the first time Jolly Roger watched the Black Pearl sail away. He acutely remembered the sight of her fleeing through a delirium of fever, only realizing what had happened too late. And the glimpses of her through the rain and the wind when he'd been so close.
He was determined that this time would be the last.
There was no catching up to the Pearl, not now, so Jolly ordered the anchor dropped but only long enough to allow several undead pirates to clamber aboard, dripping from the sea. Even before the Pearl had arrived, they'd dropped to the sea floor to examine the wreck of the Endeavour for themselves. Jolly had been more than pleased when he'd learned of Beckett's death. Once powerful allies, their association had ended suddenly and bloodily off the coast of Raven's Cove.
His crewmen had retreated and watched at a distance as Norrington had entered the wreck and confirmed Jolly's suspicions.
Jack Sparrow was after the Sword of El Patron. And that sword was gone.
For the first time in a long time, he felt a shudder of fear. Jack Sparrow knew his weakness, knew what would lift his curse and kill him in the process. He could not allow him to locate the Sword. Whatever the cost.
They weighed anchor and with all the speed her crew could muster, the Harkaway sailed after the Pearl.
Jack finished up the bottle of rum in his cabin and emerged into the bright light on deck, intent on finding himself another, but Gibbs was standing between him and the way to the hold.
"Er." Jack made a shooing motion but Gibbs didn't budge. "Move."
"Captain, I think it's time we had a little chat."
"I agree." Norrington appeared on Jack's other side and Jack's nose twitched. So it was to be one of those days.
"I rather think everything that needs discussing has already been discussed."
"Not quite," Gibbs said and gestured to the main deck where the whole crew was gathered.
"Is this a mutiny? Because I would greatly advise against such a course of action."
"The crew is of a mind you have no idea where the Sword is," Norrington said. "And some have their doubts it even exists in the first place."
He should have known Norrington would try something like this. "'Twould be a silly thing to die for." He needed an argument, something that would appease Norrington and satisfy Gibbs. The Sword wasn't with the Endeavour even though he'd known for certain, which meant it must certainly be at Port Royal. Egh, Gibbs wouldn't like that. Maybe if he threw some money in it for good measure. No, he didn't have any money. How about rum, then? That always seemed to solve his problems. He couldn't offer the good stuff, of course, but there was a bottle he'd acquired in Nassau that nobody knew about, would that do it?
Norrington, though. This simply wasn't going to work.
"The Sword is in Port Royal and I know exactly how we're going to get it."
Gibbs' brows wrinkled in surprise and he seemed to forget his animosity for a second. "How?"
Jack's lip quirked. Was it a shame? Maybe. Would he regret it? Absolutely not.
In a fluid motion, Jack drew his pistol, cocked it, and aimed it right between Norrington's eyes.
Norrington started from the sudden move and Jack's expression was dead serious. This wasn't a joke.
"How is it that ol' Jolly Roger seemed to know exactly where we were, I wonder," Jack said. "Quite a coincidence."
"A coincidence only." For someone with no cold-blooded murder in his record (Barbossa didn't count), Jack had a killer's eye.
"See, I've been running from that blaggard for some time. Always a step ahead. Until you came along."
Norrington should have known he couldn't trust a pirate. "We both know I can't die, Sparrow, so I suggest you put that away."
Jack smirked. "Maybe not. But I can make you ugly. And then I can throw your undead carcass overboard. Give my regards to Jolly Roger."
Norrington pursed his lips. Immortal or not, a shot to the face sounded extremely painful. "Might I remind you that if it weren't for me, you wouldn't even know of Roger's pursuit. However much we both dislike the situation, it will be over with more quickly if we work together. Perhaps we should let sleeping dogs lie, hmm?"
To his surprise, Jack seemed to consider it. "I'm tempted, mate. Truly I am. But I don't think you'll live long enough to see him to the depths." With his free hand, Jack grabbed Norrington's wrist and he was too shocked to pull away as the hand still holding the pistol tore back his sleeve. Black, rotting flesh glistened with sweat and puss, strung with tendons and, underlying, the gleam of bone.
"I thought so. It'll only progress quicker from here. I'm afraid you're not long for this world. At least not as you are now. As formerly commodore, formerly admiral James Norrington."
Norrington snatched his arm back. "I'm aware of the problem."
"Norrington's such a stuffy British name. Rot a bit further and you'll have to change it to Jim Bones."
Norrington grabbed a pistol out of Gibbs' belt and pointed it at Jack Sparrow. "But unlike me, you can die."
"True. But who'd take you to the Sword then?"
"You would take me when a moment earlier, you proposed betrayal?"
Jack shrugged. "Pirates are funny like that."
"I would rather kill you now and do away with your nonsense altogether." He tightened his grip on the pistol. "You've been running us in circles and we are no closer to the Sword than when I located you in Tortuga. At this rate, Roger will have us both."
"I hate to say it, Captain, but he has a point," Gibbs said. "While you two stand around arguing, Roger is no doubt catching up to us. So either shoot each other don't. I for one will not wait around to be either cursed or killed. Or both." He stormed off.
Norrington and Jack stared at each other for a good few seconds before finally the tension between them lessened and they lowered their flintlocks.
"If the Sword is not in Port Royal, I will you shoot you," Norrington said.
"Wouldn't expect anything else," Jack said and snickered. "What happened to letting sleeping dogs lie?"
"I don't know, Sparrow. This way's more fun, I suppose." As Norrington turned away, he thought he saw out of the corner of his eye, Jack grinning.
Every ship on the board was in retreat. An entire fleet turned around by a roughshod gaggle of pirates. One ship captured. And oneā¦
A figure leaned over and picked up a small wooden ship, the name Endeavour engraved on its side. One ship, but it was loss enough. A single ship and the tide of battle turned.
There was a knock at the door.
"Enter."
A young ensign came in, nervous. "We've had word, Sir. That Sparrow's left Tortuga and in quite a hurry too. Should a ship be sent for him?"
"No." He turned the ship over and over in his hand. "We wait. Sparrow will come to us."
"Right, Sir." The ensign retreated.
The figure sighed. It had taken him longer than he'd thought. He smiled.
"Finally."
