Thanks to Jackfan2 for beta reading. This wouldn't have gotten completed as quickly as it did without your lovely harassment.
Sorry for taking so long on getting this chapter posted- life is distracting. I hope that updates will continue more quickly after this!
Chapter 12, Time and Measures
Brief Recap….
"Arrest these men." The Commodore commanded.
"All of 'em?" Murtogg asked.
"No. That one." Norrington pointed at the Doctor seated across the room.
"And Captain Sparrow?"
After a brief pause, so brief Will barely noticed, the Commodore answered. "Yes. Him too."
............
Overall, prison wasn't so bad. Not when considering the fact that prison turned out to the Commodore's office. It was really quite funny, actually. Anamaria fought like a shark to get Norrington to change his mind about the whole arresting thing, as did Will. They even followed Murtogg and Mullroy all the way to the fort.
Of course, at the time, Jack hadn't been so confident about his fate either. Having already graced Port Royal's prison twice, and having been hung once, he didn't look forwards to experiencing it again.
As it turned out, Norrington took him straight up to his office for interrogations.
"Sit there and don't move." Norrington gestured towards an old chair in the far corner of the room.
"How 'bout here?" Jack asked, edging towards a nicer chair closer to a window. A glare and a shrug was the response, and Jack ended up sitting in the corner after all.
Norrington took a seat at his desk and started sifting through various papers and folders. "I gave you orders to stay away from the school. Did I not?"
Was answering necessary? Jack didn't think so, and so he didn't. This felt like the nun school his folks made him attend as a child. Sit in the corner and be quiet. Bloody nuns.
"And what did I warn you would happen should I see you at the school?"
"Something concerning luck, or rather the lack thereof, so far as I recall." As much as Jack appreciated not being in a cell, and not wearing the standard prison issue irons on his wrists, having broken ribs was still bloody uncomfortable. He shifted again to try and find a better position.
"You are fortunate the bullet missed you."
Missed? That was an interesting way to put it. It would have been a perfect shot had the Commodore not tackled him. A certain paper took Norrington's interest for a moment, and the man muttered slightly under his breath while scribbling some words on a new sheet before looking back up.
"How is your hand faring Mr Sparrow?"
"I've not thought about it." Jack lied. So now what? Was the Commodore's plan to simply talk him to death? "Thanks for the concern, mate. Now if that'll be all, I've got a ship to be going back to…"
"No Mr. Sparrow, this is most definitely not all." Norrington seemed ready to say more, but was interrupted by a knock on his door. "Enter."
Murtogg entered, looking somewhat worried, and spoke briefly. Jack didn't catch all of what was said, but he did distinctly hear the words Morris Ettie. His sudden interest at hearing the familiar name did not go unnoticed.
"If you've any pertinent information, it would be best to share it now." The Commodore stared at Jack.
"That all depends on what information it is you'd be needing." Jack answered
"Apparently the esteemed Doctor's mental state has come under question. The man appears to be in the throws of some kind of brain fever, continuously screaming a name."
"And that name would be Morris Ettie?"
"Indeed it would. What do you know of it?"
Jack shook his head no. "Never heard 'o him." He shifted a bit again and glanced across the room towards the window.
"Indeed." The Commodore turned back to Murtogg and handed him a paper. "Take this to Governor Swann for his signature. That is all."
Once they were alone once more, Norrington stood up and began to pace. "I gave you a chance Mr. Sparrow, and yet you disregarded it. I trust that you appreciate that I can not assist you a second time."
And so ended Jack's hope of avoiding Port Royal's dungeon.
"Your hand will need treatment." James stopped in front of the pirate. "There is little I can do to intercede on your behalf. Sloan is claiming you acted with him as a business partner. Due to your reputation as a pirate, it is an accusation nearly impossible to dispute. The fact that you were there is enough to condemn you."
"What about Anamaria and young Turner?"
"Your capture is enough to take the spotlight off their involvement. There will be no charges against them."
"Good. That's good. What's t' happen to me then?"
"You will not be hanged in Port Royal. Due to the notoriety of the crimes you have committed, I have ordered that you are to be taken to London for trial and execution."
Jack nodded. "That allows for some time, eh?"
"It does. I trust your crew will use it wisely. I will inform Elizabeth and Will of the arrangements I have made. You will not be moved until I am satisfied the injuries you have sustained will not interfere with the likelihood of a fit arrival in London."
That equalled even more time, and more time equalled more opportunity for escape.
The rest of the day passed quickly after that, and for the moment, Jack was allowed to remain in the relative comfort of Norrington's office while the Commodore completed hours of paper work at his desk.
Irons were clamped on his wrists, and a woman came to tend to the pirate's hand shortly after. Jack barely acknowledged her. As for the woman, she kept her eyes lowered, and her actions efficient. Two Marines were posted at the door to ensure her safety during the ministrations, so there was little else she could do.
There was so much he needed to tell Anamaria, and having her so close and not being able to say any of what was on his mind was almost more frustrating than not having her near at all. Instead of talking, he stared at her face, memorizing the curve of her jaw to the crinkles around her eyes. Nevertheless, she would not look at him. She stayed focused on her work, every now and then Jack imagined her touch to be more of a caress, but she showed no outwards signs of distraction.
Having the broken stitches removed and re-sown was agonizing, made even more uncomfortable by the fact that his palm was already swollen and irritated by the onset of infection. However, Jack concentrated on the feel of her hand on his, and the warmth and texture of her skin, rather than the discomfort.
When the stitches were done, she wrapped the wound in clean cloth and turned her attention to the Commodore.
"Sir." Despite her outward demeanour of humility, her voice betrayed her real temper. Jack's stomach clenched with the fear of what she might say next. He needn't have worried though; she cleared her throat and repeated the word more softly. "Sir?"
The Commodore looked up and nodded for her to continue.
"The wound will need further care if you wish to avoid it becoming septic."
"What do you suggest?"
"If it suits, I can return daily with fresh wrappings."
"That will be acceptable."
She nodded and left.
........
The dungeon turned out to be no more fun this time around than any other time he'd been in it. Of course last time he'd been amongst the steadily dwindling number of Barbossa's crew awaiting their death sentence. As depressing as it had been to watch man after man be escorted to the gallows not to return, waiting alone proved even worse.
The Commodore placed him in a cell at the far end of the hall, out of sight to the other prisoners. Norrington's intentions were probably for the best, but it felt more like a punishment than a consideration. Not a window or even a crack broke the monotony of his surroundings or offered a hint of fresh air, and the only sounds reaching him came from Sloan cursing at the guards, and the Doctor's mad raving echoing off the stone walls. At least it seemed Morris Ettie was finally having his fun.
Light barely made its way this far down the hall, and Jack came to measure the days by two events. One event consisted of an old servant bringing the daily rations and a pitcher of water. The man never spoke, and never lingered longer than necessary. The second event was Anamaria coming to tend his wound. Without fail, two marines accompanied her each time. She crouched outside his cell while he sat with his arm extended through the bars. Her touch electrified his skin. At first, he tried talking to her, just rambling about nothing for as long as she stayed. He understood that she couldn't answer him, not if her identity was to remain hidden. After a few days, he discovered that talking only distracted him from her touch, and so he sat with his eyes closed and concentrated on feeling. He willed these brief visits to last forever, and they never lasted long enough.
On her last visit, Anamaria did nothing differently, not until the very end. She stood up, took a couple steps, and then turned back to Jack with an expression fiercer than any he'd ever seen before. "Bugger the code." She whispered, and then left.
There were no other visitors. Norrington came to stand outside his cell later that day. He came to see if the pirate was well enough for travel, and seeing that yes, the pirate was mending quite well, orders were put forth to transport the prisoner to the ship bound for London.
Up until this time, Jack held out the hope that his crew would intervene. That was what Anamaria meant by saying "bugger the code" was it not? Why else would Norrington arrange to have him sent across the ocean, other than to provide opportunity for the Pearl to rescue him? He spent hours in that cell going over their conversation, searching for hidden meanings or messages. Truly, he thought the Commodore meant to arrange something, he remembered James saying that he'd talk to Elizabeth and Will about arrangements, what else could that imply but a plan? Right?
At the sight of the ship bound for London, all expectation of rescue died. It was the Dauntless; the grandest ship in the royal navy, and the most heavily gunned. All the secret meanings he picked out of his talk with Norrington were fantasy after all. The Pearl wouldn't stand a chance against the Dauntless in a firefight, and he sincerely hoped Anamaria would be smart enough not to try.