(Author's Notes – Thank you, thank you, thank you to my lovely reviewers! Here I am, on Chapter 5! Another toughie. The chances of me rewriting this are pretty high, so feel free to critique all you want! I'm sorta curious – what do you all think of Norrington's reactions to various bits of news in the chapter? The next chapter is going to have a bit of a speculation on a spoiler for POTC3 ... whereas up till now, everything (except Norrington's promotion and stint on the FD have been pure speculation), and then, if the stars align, kick into the action. That's the general plan, at least.)
Holding one of the many teeth of the Kraken had an eerie, ominous feel. The monster itself was drifting lifeless in the cold bosom of the sea, the monster which had been the undoing of so many men, and its many, many teeth lay in piles throughout the Dutchman. How odd was it to separate the Kraken from aforementioned teeth in death? It seemed to do so was less of proof and more of defacing a legend – like a pirate ship stripping her prey's dead Captain of his sword, or a usurper taking the signet ring of the king – something that was wrong. My conscience stirred, its shackles clanking in the back of my mind, telling something I already knew. This was wrong.
Jones's horrible crew went about cleaning up the mess, throwing bits of flesh over the sides and scrubbing the blood from the deck. The Kraken was gone. Gone. No more innocent sailors would fall prey to it. No more midshipmen would shake in their hammocks at night. No more legend. Though I knew that the Kraken had to die, before any other innocent lives were lost, it saddened me to see it go. Jones was none to happy about the entire matter, puffing away on his pipe with a bloody cutlass still in his hands.
"It had to be done," I said finally.
Jones looked up.
"Cigar?"
I nodded as he handed me a match.
"That shrimp had it done to prove something."
"I agree with that. But Captain Jones, the Kraken's been the terror of the seas, killing innocent sailors, and sinking ships, for centuries. Beckett wants to save money."
"You defend him?"
"I've lost enough sailors to not want to see another die."
"They died because of you. And they still forgave you," Jones huffed.
"How would you know?"
"Boy," he growled, "I am the sea. I know every man that's sailed her, and his fate. Why? They all end up in my locker or on my ship. And I've heard quite a few of your men in my time."
"Who?"
Jones smirked.
"Who have you spoken to?"
"Wouldn't you like to know?"
"Captain Jones," I pleaded, "I have lost more to the sea than any man alive. She's been my making and my breaking, like many before me. Like you. Show me a scrap of mercy, and I will in turn show you my own."
"Aye, we're not so different, are we, Admiral? A woman has ruined us both – a woman as fickle and mindless as the sea. Driven to distraction, the two of us."
It was a half sad, half cruel smile that followed. One I know had crossed my own countenance a hundred times before as I thought of Elizabeth. I had a bottle of rum as my only friend and a whore as my consolation when I had worn that smile. Devil may care, my life wasn't worth the killing then. I wondered, what did Jones do, before he cut out his heart? Did he, too, turn to the wine and the wench? Or had he been faithful until the bitter end?
Jones struggled a bit with himself before he decided to take some sort of half-brutal pity on me.
"The Sea claimed almost all your men, save a handful. Of them, most elected to die. But one did not. A young lieutenant, said he wasn't ready to go. He needed to see land one more time, and if he had to serve a hundred years before the mast, he would pay the price. Groves, his name was."
"Groves is here? Theodore Groves?"
"Aye."
"Where?"
"Groves!"
Jones's bellow rang across the deck, across the ocean. The crew froze and then parted, making way for a shadowy figure. I watched his progress with trepidation. Though Jones had said my crew forgave me, I felt as though they should not, and deserved to be despised for what I had cost them.
As Groves drew closer, I began to lose my fear of what he thought of me, and instead wonder what the sea had done to him. The uniform coat he had treasured in life still hung stiffly from his dead shoulders, the sea-boots he had spent the last of his prize money on walked on, encrusted with barnacles and sea life. I could not see his face, but wondered if it, too, bore the marks of the sea.
"He is before the mast?"
"Aye."
I tossed the cigar overboard.
"How am I to face a man I killed?"
"The sea took him."
"And I made my own choice, in the end," interrupted a familiar voice, "Don't fret about it, Admiral."
Jones backed off to the side, respectfully almost, to leave me to face Groves.
The sea had changed him, I decided. Groves looked like he must have in that instant before death – he was pale with dark rings under his dulled eyes. What looked like seaweed had replaced part of his hair, tying the lot into what passed for a queue. Barnacles had begun to take root in his torn, wrecked uniform, along with oysters and limpets and other clinging shellfish. Through tears in his clothing his skin appeared to have taken on the coloring and texture of fish's scales in some areas, and the hand he offered me had spines like those of the lionfish.
"I'm not poisonous, Admiral. Trust me," Groves reassured me as I hesitated to acknowledge his hand.
"Literally or figuratively?"
"Either."
I took his hand and shook it.
"You've done well for yourself, Admiral. When were you promoted?"
"Recently. After I came back from Isla Cruces."
"Isla Cruces? You were there when the Kraken pulled the Pearl and her crew down?"
My heart stopped dead. I knew the Pearl had gone down, but her crew – Jack Sparrow, Mr. Turner and Elizabeth?
"Her whole crew?"
I was choking on my shock, it was a wonder I managed to speak at all.
"We picked up no survivors."
I closed my eyes and shook my fist.
"My God."
I staggered as my legs gave out on me and then fell to the decks. I had killed them all – if Sparrow or Turner had had the heart, they could have called off the Kraken through forcing Jones's hand. I knew I had betrayed them for my own ends, but had never dreamed – I did not want, in my heart for them to die – and I as good as ran them through with my own sword. More men's death's on my head. And hers. Elizabeth was dead because of me.
"Admiral!"
Groves knelt next to me in his concern, spineless hand tugging me upright.
"They're all dead?"
"Yes. Why?"
"My God, why do I learn this now?"
"What?"
"Miss Swann and Mr. Turner were on the Black Pearl. I saw them on it with my own eyes. I would have been on the Pearl as well, had not complications arose on Isla Cruces. And they died because of me. Because I stole the heart."
"Admiral?"
"Groves. I was on Isla Cruces with Sparrow, Turner and Elizabeth. I came with them in the Black Pearl. I dug up the chest with my own hands and fought with them over the heart. Jack Sparrow lost the fight but ended up with the heart. And I stole the heart from him and feigned a sacrifice to escape without their knowing I took it. The heart bought me the promotion, Groves."
"Admiral?"
Groves still had no idea.
"After the hurricane when I lost the Dauntless, I resigned my commission. I couldn't live with myself after killing my crew, and never even returned to Port Royal, simply sent a message to Governor Swann. I took to drink, and found my way to Tortuga, where I worked as a deckhand and sailed before the mast on pirates' crews. One night I signed up on the Black Pearl – after that, an emissary of Beckett's found me and told me should I recover the heart or the compass, I would have my position restored to me. Thence I went to Isla Cruces and stole the heart. And was promoted. Now do you understand me, Groves?"
"No, Admiral, that wouldn't happen to you."
"I assure you, it did. I was a rum-pot deckhand that took orders from pirates."
A nameless swab walked by, this one half shark and half man – a massive jaw with half-sharpened teeth, sandpapery skin, and a triangular fin running down his backbone. Though I never saw his full face, I could feel his stare.
"Admiral Norrington?"
Jones stumped over as I got to my feet.
"The Kraken killed the entire crew?"
"Nothing survived, I assure you," Davy Jones assented.
"I killed them all."
"Pirate," Jones shrugged, "You looked after yourself. Nothing wrong with that."
"Even when it killed the woman I love?"
Gone was Jones's pity and camaraderie. He sneered.
"She didn't love you. She acted the part and dropped you."
"No," I replied, "She never did."
"Sir, you're a wreck," Groves interrupted, "Captain Jones – please, no more. Let him rest. We go to Isla Cruces tomorrow – he'll have enough then to contend with."
"Know your place!"
"I do. I am obliged to you but I stand with my former Captain."
"You're on dangerous grounds, Groves."
Groves' eyes flashed with the animation they had held in life glaring furiously at Jones.
"I'm of half a mind to flog you."
"The man was defending me, Captain Jones," I interrupted.
"He is before the mast on the Dutchman."
"I'll call Beckett into this. I am, for all intents and purposes, in charge of you. Any insubordination on any matter whatsoever will not be tolerated."
It was Jones's turn to glare to kill. But I wouldn't let myself be frightened.
"Groves goes free of punishment. We land at Isla Cruces tomorrow. And I will turn in for the night."
Jones stumped off to his cabin, and shortly after the familiar strains of an organ came thundering through the night. Groves and I walked the quarterdeck.
"Why did you accept?"
"Drifting at sea, drowning and then not, and then again – half dead, out of sight of land, no water to drink but water to drown in – it was like the sea kept me alive only to see me in my agonies. When Jones came, I claimed relief. I couldn't wait any longer, neither living nor dying. And I needed a chance, however small, to see land … and Alice again. She knew every time I left there was a chance I wasn't coming back, but … I had to see her. Still have to. To say goodbye, for good."
"I'm sorry – this is all my fault! I've killed so many men – I killed every man aboard the Dauntless, from Captain Granger to the powder monkeys. I killed every soul on the Black Pearl to recover my position. My hands are bloody red!"
"Admiral, it was our job. We knew we were going to die, more likely than not."
"You didn't have to die. If it weren't for my orders – you'd still be alive!"
"It was bound to happen sooner or later."
"How can you be so complacent?"
"Death makes stoics of us all."
"Death makes cowards of us all," I snorted.
"Only if you survive."
"The threat of death, then. For instance, I should not be on this cursed ship a moment longer were it not that I must obey Beckett. He knows I'm not afraid to die, thus threatening my life does him little good. He's instead taken to threatening to kill Gillette and the others. If I don't return to Port Royal – they're as good as dead. But in order to do right by them, I must do wrong by others. I know its wrong Groves, I know and she won't let me forget it. Charity. You knew her, before she died almost a score of years ago. It's like she's alive again, haunting my thoughts – she won't let me forget I'm in the wrong!"
Groves looked at me like I was a man possessed.
"Admiral, I think you've had too trying a day. Get some rest, please."
"Groves, I don't sleep anymore. I haven't slept in a week. I can't let myself – I can't just sleep when that bastard Beckett pushes me around like a pawn, threatening everything I hold dear. If I stand up and do what's right, I lose everything again – my name, my honor, my title and now my life. He'll have me hung, Groves. And then when I'm not there, I can't even imagine what he'll do. If I do what's wrong, I struggle on, and keep the ability to do what's right."
"Scylla and Charbydis, Admiral."
"Which one is the greater good? Is it better to wrong one man or another? If I thought my death would make any of this right," I shook my head sadly, "I'd have hung myself long, long ago."
"Do right by what your heart tells you."
"Groves … my heart? My soul? They don't exist."
"Your conscience, then. You're a good man, Admiral. I knew it from the first, just like the rest of the crew. You have our faith."
"The faith of a dead man?"
"That was unworthy, Admiral."
"All I want is my life back Groves. My life to be the way it was before the hurricane. I just want my life back."