Norrington stalked down to the brig, not walk, but stalk. There was
something lithe about the way he angrily marched down the slippery wooden
stairs into the damp waterlogged cellar that was the brig. Sparrow sat
there, despite the ankle high water, and for all intents and purposes
appeared to be sound asleep. Norrington watched him for a long minute
before splashing the water noisily to make himself known.
"Mr. Sparrow, a word." Sparrow looked up groggily.
"It's Captain luv, Captain."
"You have no boat, you are no captain. And you are a pirate."
"I do have a ship mate, I'm just not on it."
"Right now, you are a prisoner of the Royal Navy."
"Ah, I see how it is James. I see how it is." There was something familiar about the voice as it lost all the accents that it had accumulated and faded into a London one. And as the accent faded, the voice floated to him as if from a memory. "You care about nothing more than duty."
"I do as I am bound." Was all he could say, as he tried to place where he knew that voice from.
"That's right James, always the letter of the law, never the one to do anything reckless, always did as you were told." The more the pirate spoke to him, the more he recognized it. The more he didn't want to recognize it.
"Who are you to speak? You have done nothing but rape pillage plunder and murder."
"Ah that's where you have me wrong James. I never raped or murdered a soul in my life. Couldn't bring myself to." He recognized the voice now, and Sparrow could see the look of shock on the other man's face. A look of shock and a look of denial. "Ah, James, now do you recognize me? I thought you would have sooner."
"It can't be." Was all he could say.
"Ah, but you see luv, it is. It's me here in the flesh mate, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"No. It can't be." He repeated in disbelief. Sparrow looked at him apologetically for a minute, before the soft brown eyes returned to meet his stormy green ones.
"Ah, that was your other downfall, you never believed anything. You were always so skeptical. Except of course about the stories of pirates and how easy it was to slay them on the high seas."
"Those are entirely believable, as you are in one of those stories now."
"Ah, of course, how I forget. My, how the tables have turned." Was all the pirate said before leaning his head back against the bars of the cell. Norrington watched him for a long minute, before the pirate turned his head back to the man standing tall, proud, arrogant just feet away from him. "What are you doing? Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to let a man get some sleep?" he said irritated. Norrington turned and started to walk off, before he heard the pirates voice in a soft tone he hadn't heard in ages. "James," with that Norrington stopped and turned back around.
"Yes?" he asked brusquely.
"I'm sorry." Was all the other man could say. With that, Norrington walked up the stairs confused, and hurt.
How could this man just come back into his life? The more time he spent around the pirate, the more he knew that this pirate, the man he'd been hunting for so long was in fact the reason why he had been hunting every single pirate. This man, the man he held captive down in the brig, was his brother. As he walked to his cabin, he couldn't help but think of how ironic it was, and how painful it was. It hurt him so much to know that this man was the one that he had been tracking down. That he had been hunting his own brother.
He had to go back down there, he needed to talk to the man more, but he was afraid to. He was afraid of what he would find out about his brother. But he was more afraid of what he'd find out about himself. He didn't want to know that he was the same as this man, as this monster that his brother had become. He wanted to be the fine Captain that he was, not be related to some pirate. This wasn't the brother that he had had. This wasn't the brother that sailed off that one cold morning, never to be seen again.
This was a new man entirely. So what if they were once the same person? He had changed so much that he could no longer be counted as his brother. This was a pirate, and therefore no kin of his. But the more he thought about it, the more it ate at his conscience. This man was his brother, whether he liked it or not. This was his brother, the one that he had admired for so long, and if he didn't want to admit it, that was his problem, but this man was his brother nonetheless.
And he couldn't just forget about their blood, could he? He didn't want to, but he felt a stronger tie to the law to which he was bound. He was a captain of the Royal fleet. He was in charge of everything in the Caribbean. He had to obey the laws, and he couldn't let a man go, a man who not only had smuggling and piracy on his list of offenses, but now, if he was who Norrington believed him to be also had desertation and treason to face.
The man would be hung multiple times over if the law had anything to do with it. But could he bring himself to know that he had sent his own brother to the gallows? This was the man who taught him to love the sea; this was the man who made him do what he did. This was the man who taught him how to follow his own heart, could he send this man to his grave? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he couldn't. The more he thought about it, the more he remembered everything the man had done for him.
He had been everything he ever wanted, he couldn't send the man to his grave now. he had been the best brother any boy could wish for. Norrington looked at the tricorner hat that sat proudly on his desk, all old and battered, but it was still his, a gift from the man that now sat in the icy waters of the brig, along with the rats and whatever vermin decided to make that their home. He couldn't send that man to the gallows. With more resolve, he got up from his cabin, and walked back down to the brig, this time, an air of empathy about him, empathy for the man that he once loved.
"Mr. Sparrow, a word." Sparrow looked up groggily.
"It's Captain luv, Captain."
"You have no boat, you are no captain. And you are a pirate."
"I do have a ship mate, I'm just not on it."
"Right now, you are a prisoner of the Royal Navy."
"Ah, I see how it is James. I see how it is." There was something familiar about the voice as it lost all the accents that it had accumulated and faded into a London one. And as the accent faded, the voice floated to him as if from a memory. "You care about nothing more than duty."
"I do as I am bound." Was all he could say, as he tried to place where he knew that voice from.
"That's right James, always the letter of the law, never the one to do anything reckless, always did as you were told." The more the pirate spoke to him, the more he recognized it. The more he didn't want to recognize it.
"Who are you to speak? You have done nothing but rape pillage plunder and murder."
"Ah that's where you have me wrong James. I never raped or murdered a soul in my life. Couldn't bring myself to." He recognized the voice now, and Sparrow could see the look of shock on the other man's face. A look of shock and a look of denial. "Ah, James, now do you recognize me? I thought you would have sooner."
"It can't be." Was all he could say.
"Ah, but you see luv, it is. It's me here in the flesh mate, and there's nothing you can do about it."
"No. It can't be." He repeated in disbelief. Sparrow looked at him apologetically for a minute, before the soft brown eyes returned to meet his stormy green ones.
"Ah, that was your other downfall, you never believed anything. You were always so skeptical. Except of course about the stories of pirates and how easy it was to slay them on the high seas."
"Those are entirely believable, as you are in one of those stories now."
"Ah, of course, how I forget. My, how the tables have turned." Was all the pirate said before leaning his head back against the bars of the cell. Norrington watched him for a long minute, before the pirate turned his head back to the man standing tall, proud, arrogant just feet away from him. "What are you doing? Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to let a man get some sleep?" he said irritated. Norrington turned and started to walk off, before he heard the pirates voice in a soft tone he hadn't heard in ages. "James," with that Norrington stopped and turned back around.
"Yes?" he asked brusquely.
"I'm sorry." Was all the other man could say. With that, Norrington walked up the stairs confused, and hurt.
How could this man just come back into his life? The more time he spent around the pirate, the more he knew that this pirate, the man he'd been hunting for so long was in fact the reason why he had been hunting every single pirate. This man, the man he held captive down in the brig, was his brother. As he walked to his cabin, he couldn't help but think of how ironic it was, and how painful it was. It hurt him so much to know that this man was the one that he had been tracking down. That he had been hunting his own brother.
He had to go back down there, he needed to talk to the man more, but he was afraid to. He was afraid of what he would find out about his brother. But he was more afraid of what he'd find out about himself. He didn't want to know that he was the same as this man, as this monster that his brother had become. He wanted to be the fine Captain that he was, not be related to some pirate. This wasn't the brother that he had had. This wasn't the brother that sailed off that one cold morning, never to be seen again.
This was a new man entirely. So what if they were once the same person? He had changed so much that he could no longer be counted as his brother. This was a pirate, and therefore no kin of his. But the more he thought about it, the more it ate at his conscience. This man was his brother, whether he liked it or not. This was his brother, the one that he had admired for so long, and if he didn't want to admit it, that was his problem, but this man was his brother nonetheless.
And he couldn't just forget about their blood, could he? He didn't want to, but he felt a stronger tie to the law to which he was bound. He was a captain of the Royal fleet. He was in charge of everything in the Caribbean. He had to obey the laws, and he couldn't let a man go, a man who not only had smuggling and piracy on his list of offenses, but now, if he was who Norrington believed him to be also had desertation and treason to face.
The man would be hung multiple times over if the law had anything to do with it. But could he bring himself to know that he had sent his own brother to the gallows? This was the man who taught him to love the sea; this was the man who made him do what he did. This was the man who taught him how to follow his own heart, could he send this man to his grave? The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he couldn't. The more he thought about it, the more he remembered everything the man had done for him.
He had been everything he ever wanted, he couldn't send the man to his grave now. he had been the best brother any boy could wish for. Norrington looked at the tricorner hat that sat proudly on his desk, all old and battered, but it was still his, a gift from the man that now sat in the icy waters of the brig, along with the rats and whatever vermin decided to make that their home. He couldn't send that man to the gallows. With more resolve, he got up from his cabin, and walked back down to the brig, this time, an air of empathy about him, empathy for the man that he once loved.