Before The Dawn

Chapter IX: Of Secrecy and Close Calls

By FalconWing

James Norrington was not in a very good mood.

Commodores of the British Royal Navy were not supposed to be held captive in dark, dank brigs and with only one meal of congealed slop and murky water for daily nourishment. It was just something that didn't happen. It was unacceptable, intolerable and just not dignified.

And he was certain that there were other people jailed farther down the row of cells. He appeared to be at the very end and from here could distinguish near to nothing: no sounds of movement as the guards changed watch, no footsteps from above, not even the resonating echo of voices raised commandingly. The only noise he came close to hearing was the resounding clang of the bell signaling the end of a watch.

He didn't know the young lady that shared his cell and she offered no conversation. She merely sat and stared blankly at the bilge water shivering constantly. Norrington couldn't help but suspect that her psyche had been affected by the ordeal – that or she was just a simpleton to start with.

With no enthralling discussions in the offing there was really not much with which to occupy his mind, he had to admit that he found himself quite bored. He had long since abandoned attempts to keep himself looking presentable as an impossible task; the storm three nights previously had seen to that.

Instead he often found his brain compensating for this lack by creating possible scenarios. One situation it seemed particularly fixated on was an image of Jack Sparrow leaning insolently against the other side of the very bars that caged him in, mouth curled in that insufferable smirk, eyes flashing with an all-too-familiar mocking glint. It reminded Norrington of a time when it had been the other way around; the pirate had been the one behind bars and it had been him who had stood outside the cell satisfied that this was the day that Captain Jack Sparrow had almost escaped.

A clanging on the bars brought his attention back to the present and he looked up to see the current guard standing by the door with their what passed for a meal in this position he found himself in. Instead of opening the door to deposit the bowls of gunk, though, he somehow managed to twist the somewhat shabby plates through the bars, followed by a mug of water each.

Norrington scrambled to his feet and reached over to accept them. He was dimly aware of the guard turning to leave but was already making his way over to his cellmate's side. He placed the bowl and mug in one of her hands and wrapped the other hand around the spoon that lay inside and waited a moment to be sure she would eat it. Eventually she noticed the food that had been left in her possession and began to spoon food into her own mouth. She did so without emotion and seemingly without tasting it.

He could hardly bring himself to eat the stuff. How condescending to go from numerous dishes of delicious meat and sweet delicacies to this…this slop. It would almost be better to go without.

But his stomach rumbled its protest, putting paid to that idea. He heaved a sigh of resignation as he stirred the peachy muck. There was nothing else for it. It was eat or starve and he had every intention of living to see another of those magnificent Caribbean sunsets from the superior vantage point of the Dauntless' quarterdeck.

He scooped up a spoonful and swallowed it, though not without a grimace of distaste crossing his face. He shoveled another dollop into his mouth. This was but a small chapter in his life, soon another would dawn and all he had to do was live through this one.

–          –       –       –          –

Jack felt more than heard the slight groaning of the ship beneath his feet and adjusted his grip on the wheel accordingly, without even thinking about it; it was second nature to him. The Jolly, as he had begun to think of her, shifted ever so slightly, making the hull slice through the water just that little bit easier and he continued his musings without pause.

This was his second day in his more prominent role aboard ship and even taking into account the damaged mast they would be arriving in Tortuga sometime this evening. It wasn't either of these issues that occupied his thoughts, though.

It had late last night and he had been alone on the quarterdeck when Tom had dared to approach him. Jack had known something was wrong from the lad's nervous scurrying and the way his eyes flicked constantly back and forth. When the boy had only stood before him wringing his hands Jack had lent over to ruffle his hair.

"What's the matter, lad?

But Tom had been more nervous than Jack had suspected and only managed a trembling "Y…yesterday…Brock…I saw…Hughes and Mackaroy…pushed." Jack frowned and keeping one hand on the wheel knelt to look the boy in the eye. Brock was the first mate and appeared to be a close confidant to Clavell. Mackaroy had been the helmsman before being lost overboard in the storm.

"Come now Tom me lad. Take a deep breath. Surely you can tell old Jack what's troubling you." He continued to keep hold the boy's gaze and soon enough he took a big gulp of air and started.

"You know how yesterday during the storm you told me to keep safe and out the way?" Jack nodded. The boy was young and too gangly yet to be of much help in a storm like that one had been. Likely he would have just gotten in the way of everyone else. "Well…I didn't." "I was trying to tighten some of the lines 'cause they were loose but I wasn't strong enough and they were slippery. I saw Hughes and Mackeroy doing the same further down and I was going to go and ask them for help."

The lad was blushed sheepishly and hurried on quickly but he couldn't hide the quaver in his voice. "But…but Brock got there f…first. I didn't want to bother him 'cause he scares me a little. He was j…just helping them but th…then he leaned over and he…he pushed them b…both over the s…side."

He stopped abruptly as if his throat had suddenly constricted and Jack could see the moonlight glancing off the tears that were creeping down his face. Jack had comforted the boy and assured him that he believed the story. He had then sent the boy back to his hammock, telling him that he would have to think on the subject.

Well it was almost noon the next day and Jack was still thinking on it. And he still had no notion on what to do.

Oh, he did believe the lad. But he couldn't quite figure out what Clavell was up to. No doubt Brock had acted under his captain's orders and why those orders had been given was clear enough – further questioning this morning with Tom had revealed that both Hughes, Mackaroy and the other man lost to the sea had been sailors nearly their whole lives and had been the ones to give the rest a rudimentary knowledge of the basics of sailing.

Jack had been suspicious when Clavell had blithely informed Jack that he was the only "ship person" aboard. After all, the Jolly could not sail without anyone who knew how to operate her aboard. Now it turned out the man had been telling the truth, albeit not the whole truth.

"Daniels. 'Ow long 'till we reach Tortuga?"

Jack turned calmly toward Brock and leaned back casually against the wheel. "Oh, I'd say we'll get there sometime later this evening." As he spoke he surreptitiously scanned the older man's eyes for any sign of guilt. He wasn't overly surprised to find none. These were men who wouldn't pause to kill all of the hostages below decks if there were no profit in keeping them alive. These were men who committed murder, rape and numerous other atrocities on almost a daily basis.

Those were the men that Jack had difficulty understanding. Sure, he himself was a pirate. Yes, he had killed people.

But never just for the sake of it. Even on an attack against a merchant ship he fought to disarm or incapacitate, not to kill. The only times he had murdered anyone was either in defense of himself, his crew, his ship or his friends. Even though he had wanted to kill Barbossa for revenge the actual moment he had done the deed it had been only half for that vengeance while the other half had been merely to distract the man's attention from Elizabeth.

Brock cleared his throat, with his eyes narrowed and Jack realized he had been openly regarding the other man. He quickly straightened and lowered his gaze.

Every now and then he found himself slipping back into his own mannerisms. The mannerisms of a captain aboard his own ship where there was no one to whom he had to defer and he could act toward them as he wished. Not those of a second mate and helmsman who was required to show respect towards both the first mate and the captain.

Brock nodded in satisfaction and moved off, leaving Jack to contemplate their upcoming destination. Tortuga. He hoped fervently that the Pearl was there and waiting. That would make it easier but if she wasn't then he would just have to put Plan B into action.

–          –       –       –          –

It had been a week since they had arrived in Tortuga and there had been no sign of any ship that looked like it could possibly be holding Jack and Anamaria was started to doubt that they ever would come here. Maybe they had chosen some other pirate town or had sailed to their own private haven to make berth.

The crew had become restless and it was with reluctance that her and Gibbs had come to the decision to make their way back out to sea. Out of what she knew to likely be a vain hope, she had been resolute in that they stay nearby in case a likely vessel should come along.

And so it was that not an hour after the infamous Black Pearl had departed Tortuga, that in sailed a ship that sported a damaged mizzen mast and had, not one, but two captains aboard.

– – – – – – – – – – – – – – –  – – – –

Thankies to everyone for reading. Please review and let me know what's good/bad/needs improvement and inform me if I have any spelling or grammatical errors so I correct them – I can't stand having mistakes. Anyone who reviews will be held in high esteem for perpetuity.

Reviewer's Thanks

Opranoodlemantra: Lol, yes I'm afraid it may have something to do with a dirty mind. I assure you it was not meant to be taken that way. Thanks for reviewing.

Quiet Infinity: Thank you for your nice remarks. I do try to keep the transitions from topic to topic though it isn't always easy. I've tried to make it longer and I will continue to try. Was this better?

Koonelli: Awww, thank you. I'm totally flattered.

Crazydominodragongirl: I don't mean that he loses his senses. He did seem sober on the island. I just mean that he stays sober right up until the point he loses consciousness – but he does lose consciousness. And they can't really storm the pub because the idea is that it's in Tortuga and whether or not the pirates are all drunk, the ones still able would fight for their lives…and they only have one ship. All good points anyway, I probably just didn't make it clear enough. Thanks for making them.

Capt'n Raven: Thank you for reviewing.

Peachfreak: There you go, I updated ok?!

Alaawya: Thanks for letting me know about that letter. I've corrected it now.

MiRoRmInX: No one else has mentioned order of words so maybe that's just you eh Bailes?

Beregond'sGirl: Thanks for letting me know about the grammar mistakes, I'm correcting them.

Savvyness: Yes he is a bit of a pratt isn't he?

Love y'all

FalconWing.