Chapter Seven

"Will, what on earth were you thinking?" Elizabeth said as she helped pull a sopping-wet Norrington on deck. He tried his hardest not to shiver, but the brisk breeze tugged at his dripping clothing and he shuddered against his will. Gillette and Samuel stood behind him, the former giving Will a rock-hard glare and the latter looking about him in curiosity. As Elizabeth wrapped a boat cloak about Norrington's shoulders, Will took in an angry breath and stared with deep-set betrayal at the former Commodore.

"Think about it, Elizabeth," he muttered, arms crossed. "Jack didn't have the heart of Davy Jones, and I hadn't taken it either. Where could it have possibly gone?" The sarcasm dripped from his voice dangerously. Elizabeth's hands were still on Norrington's shoulders, and despite the chill, he felt his face flush as her grip intensified.

"Surely you don't mean to say that James would purposely betray us?" Elizabeth asked, and Norrington felt his face grow pale.

Will's eyes flashed, but his face turned down into melancholy. "James?"

"That is his name, isn't it?" She stood taller.

The subject was forgotten as Will turned his focus back to Norrington. "Well, James, please tell us what happened to the heart, if you didn't take it."

The deck was dark, even though the lanterns burned brightly near them. Elizabeth backed away from Norrington slightly, searching his face. He smirked sadly, and pulled the boat cloak tighter around him. He was surprised when Gillette moved forward to explain.

"The heart is in Beckett's hands," Gillette said quickly, stepping protectively in front of Norrington. "Captain Norrington came to find a way to take it back from him."

"Gillette."

The voice was low, almost as low as to say it didn't exist. But no man present would dare refute it, the authority in that whisper silencing even William Turner. Norrington sighed, catching Elizabeth's questioning eyes.

"I took the heart, and I gave it to Beckett."

Will glared daggers at the man, and Elizabeth stared disbelievingly.

"I was sent by Beckett to bargain with Davy Jones, and instead I was captured, along with my crew. It was there that I met your father, William." He, too, used Will's name almost mockingly. Will blinked confusedly, trying to discern Norrington's point. "He thought that you were dead."

Will looked away suddenly, and Elizabeth was at his side. Norrington pulled the boat cloak closer, still shuddering. His lips were slowly turning blue.

"I rarely break a promise, Mr. Turner. I swore to this man that I would find you, should you still be alive." Norrington enjoyed the strange look forming on Will's features. Elizabeth's eyes softened, flicking from Norrington to Will.

"Why would you promise something like that?" Will asked.

"A number of reasons, I assure you." He paused, finding it suddenly hard to meet either Turner's or Elizabeth's eyes. "Firstly, a deep sense of regret." He looked to his boots, afraid to see their reactions. "I know of my faults, and they are not few. I know now that, to put those few who called me 'friend' in danger, was folly, even though I could not see it." He glanced up first at Elizabeth. Her emotions were hidden behind a thick veil. "Secondly, my sense of honor. Knowing that Beckett has the heart and that his actions could throw the entire fleet into jeopardy brings me to the conclusion that I must amend my rash actions. But, I cannot do so alone."

He looked then to Will, whose burning eyes had lessened in intensity, though the ire had not yet flown completely.

"Piercing the heart of Davy Jones is a task that you alone should be privileged to carry out, William." There was no mocking in his tone anymore.

The blacksmith was taken aback at the words, unsure of how he should think any longer. Will looked at the planks beneath his feet, gritting his teeth, fighting emotions bubbling and boiling. Finally, his conflicted eyes found Norrington's again.

"I'm sorry," he said through his teeth, "but we can't help you."

Will stalked angrily toward the helm. Elizabeth looked from Norrington, then ran after Will.

They were both stopped by the man with a beard and feather-topped hat. Norrington stared apprehensively, stepping protectively in front of Samuel.

"What's all this, then, Mr. Turner?" The man asked in a low, gruff voice stained by the salt of the sea. A small monkey sat on the man's shoulder, a green apple in its paws. "We'd best be movin' on, unless yer guest here has somethin' more important t' offer?" The intense eyes of the man focused on Norrington, who calmly stood his ground. "An' you might be?"

"Captain Norrington," he replied dryly, trying to forget the cold seeping in through the boat cloak. "I am here to discuss the retrieval of the heart of Davy Jones."

The man sized Norrington up with his eyes, squinting in thought. The monkey chirped, biting into the apple with a crunch. Norrington gave a shuddering, freezing breath in the cooling air, his breath condensing before him.

"I've nothin' t' do with any heart, Davy Jones' or not. Order the anchor up an' heave to, Mr. Turner," he growled. He began to stalk away, and Norrington felt his opportunities slipping away from him. He threw the boat cloak to Gillette and began to move after the man.

"If you'll not help me," he said in a demanding voice, "then lead me to a man that can." He stepped in front of the man, blocking his way back to the helm. They stared eye to eye for a long, tense moment. "Lead me to Jack Sparrow."

Behind them, Elizabeth gasped, hands at her mouth. Norrington tried his best not to be distracted from his cause. The man before him cracked a smirk, then gave a low laugh that echoed in his chest.

"Well, Mr. Norrington, looks like we have a common interest, then, as it were." He grinned, showing yellowed teeth. "As it so happens, we were makin' our way t' dear ol' Jack as ye happened upon us."

Norrington paused before adding: "I'd heard Sparrow was dead."

"Aye, there's the rub, ain't it?" The man gave a growling laugh. "Looks like we'll be startin' our own fleet, then, Mr. Norrington."

Norrington looked at the man, one eyebrow raised in incredulity. "Am I to join you, just so?"

"Yer wantin' t' find Jack Sparrow, aren't ye?"

He waited a moment before nodding. "Yes."

"Then we have an accord." He held out a calloused hand. "Captain Barbossa." Norrington tentatively took his hand in his own, and it was shaken vigorously. "Welcome t' the Agrias, Captain Norrington." With that, Barbossa walked back up toward the helm. Gillette and Elizabeth were suddenly at his side, Gillette insisting he wear the boat cloak and Elizabeth helping guide the man toward the captain's cabin.

"James, is it true?" She asked as they settled him into a fine chair near the fireplace, which had a small fire going in it. "Are you really looking for Jack Sparrow?" She curled up on the floor beside the chair. Will stood in the open doorway, arms crossed and unsure as to whether he should enter or not.

"He, supposedly, is the only man that can help me retrieve the heart." The warm fire was helping his shivering limbs considerably. Samuel appeared behind Will, looking at the man's sword. Will looked down, and his expression softened.

"Who is this fellow?" He asked. Samuel puffed out his chest.

"I'm Samuel McCormick, and I'm part of Captain Norrington's pirate crew!"

Both Elizabeth and Will shot a guarded look at Norrington, who sat up in his seat. Gillette shifted uneasily from his position behind the chair.

"Pirate?" Elizabeth breathed almost soundlessly.

"You heard correctly," Norrington said, rubbing circulation into his arms. "James Norrington is no better than a ruddy pirate. It is," he added with a slight grin in Elizabeth's direction, "somewhat of a welcome release." He sat for a moment longer before turning to Gillette. "You are to take command of the Gorgon while I am aboard the Agrias. I trust you implicitly. Follow her closely, until I arrive tomorrow. Have some crewmen here run you over. Samuel shall stay with me." Samuel grinned importantly, while Gillette shuffled his feet slightly.

"Are you sure you wish to stay aboard, sir?" He asked.

"I would rather not risk it in my current state. I shall be fine come the morning." He offered a confident smile. It was almost brotherly, and Gillette mirrored it tentatively.

"Yes, sir."

"We have been friends long enough to permit the usage of my name, Nathan," he said, using Gillette's for the first time while on duty. Gillette's smile widened, as if in on a joke.

"James." He lowered his head slightly in salute and was off out the doors past Will and Samuel. The boy stepped into the cabin, taking Gillette's former position. He was beaming at the fortuitous promotion. Will stepped in also, deciding to forget his animosity for the time being. The four of them lingered before the crackling fire and enjoyed its warmth.

Will was the first to speak.

"How is my father?" His tone was trying to be conversational, but failed miserably.

"He is well, despite being locked in a foul-smelling brig and surviving on tasteless rations," Norrington answered truthfully. Will winced. "He worries about your well-being, and upon news of you, he brightened immediately."

"I should have done something else," Will muttered. "If I had been able--"

"There was nothing you could have done," Norrington said bitingly. "He is bound to the Dutchman and is quite incapable of leaving it. You do what you can for him by surviving." He let the boat cloak fall off of his shoulders.

"He's right, Will," Elizabeth said quietly from where she sat on the floor. "Knowing your alive is keeping him alive." She offered a smile to the room, and only Samuel chose to reflect it. She looked sadly at her knees, then turned again to Norrington. "Are you feeling any warmer?"

"Yes, thank you," he said honestly. "But I do not suspect that your Captain Barbossa is one to allow pirate vagabonds to lounge about his personal space all night?" She smiled weakly, then stood, meeting Will's eyes.

"There are a few hammocks left empty because of the last storm," Will said quietly. "You and Samuel could take those, if you would like." Norrington nodded, standing to match them.

"Anything of convenience." He and Samuel followed the two out into the open air of the deck, boat cloak following. Will took Norrington by the shoulder, allowing the other two on deck before them. Will's eyes were still conflicted, and Norrington did not press him.

"I still don't trust you," he told the captain candidly. "But if you're willing to help look for Jack, then we have to work together."

"Agreed, Mr. Turner." Norrington gave him a heavy look. "I will forgive your trespasses against me if you will forgive mine against you." Will sadly thought back to Isla Cruces, the twisting of Jack's words, and the daring sword fight atop the spinning wheel, all because of honor. He felt a guilty weight on his chest, then nodded.

He held out his hand to Norrington, who took it firmly and shook.


The hammock calmly rocked beneath him, the waves gently cradling the Agrias. An overwhelming feeling of home filled every sense as he stared at the wet planks above him, heard the sleeping sailors surrounding him, felt the curve of the hammock beneath him. All he needed was a rum bottle in his hand and the memory would be complete. He had spent so many nights on the Black Pearl in much the same fashion. It brought a nostalgic smile to his lips.

Samuel was snoring in the hammock beside him, fast asleep. Norrington smiled in his direction, then sat up to face the hold. It was larger than that of the Black Pearl and the Gorgon, holding familiar and unfamiliar persons alike. He was out of his hammock before he had time to think about where he was going. His feet carried him wordlessly up the steps onto the deck above.

The smell and sound of the sea washed over him. Dawn's pink head was barely rising over the horizon, shedding the slightest light on Norrington's face as he emerged. It was still too dark to see who was working on deck so early, but he could hear a man among the sails, another at the helm, two scrubbing the deck and another softly singing far off near the stern. He identified one outline immediately as it leaned over the railing, facing the darkness instead of the dawn. He approached slowly from behind, inspecting the figure carefully.

"You've been into the rum," he said conversationally as he sidled up beside the figure. Elizabeth's red-rimmed eyes turned sadly to his, and he regretted his choice of words. "I'm sorry--"

"No, you're right," Elizabeth said with a slight quiver in her words. She held up the half-empty bottle sadly. He took the bottle from her reach and drained a drink from it bitterly.

"Why would such a fine woman need comfort from a bottle?" He indicated said bottle with a movement that caused to liquid to slosh about inside. She bit her lip in response, looking out at the retreating stars.

"I've done a terrible thing, James," she told him, though her eyes would not meet his. He took another drink, feeling perhaps the conversation warranted that he be a little less than sober. Elizabeth took it back and drank another long swig.

"Could it possibly be any worse than my betrayal?" He asked. Elizabeth held a hand to her eyes, and he saw a single tear escape its prison. Norrington didn't like where the conversation had gone, and he held a hand against her shoulder.

"It's worse, I know it is." Her words were slightly blurred by the rum. She looked up, her tears still fresh, but her expression changed. "Granted, you really shouldn't have done what you did, James." He smiled weakly, taking the bottle back and draining more into his throat.

"I know." He placed the rum on the railing, where it stayed. "But I also learn from my mistakes. I see what I have done wrong and apply that knowledge to my next course of action." He placed his other hand on Elizabeth's remaining shoulder, facing her squarely. "You do not have to tell me what you are grieving about, but listen to my advice. I've made my share of ill choices."

She looked away, but did not retreat. "Learn from my mistakes," she echoed hollowly. Her lip trembled, and she fell forward onto Norrington's chest, heaving with quiet sobs. Norrington nearly dropped her in shock, but held her tightly, comfortingly, nervously. He knew it was the rum doing this to her, but latent emotions surfaced without his bidding. A comforting hand through her hair was all he could dare.

I shouldn't be allowing this.

But he wanted it.

He closed his eyes and held her tighter, his voice softly murmuring things such as, "Don't blame yourself," and "Everything will be fine." The sobbing quieted, and he was almost glad when she pulled back, wiping her tears.

"I'm sorry," she said as she reached for the rum. "You've always been so kind to me." A long drink followed, some missing her mouth entirely. Norrington absently wondered if he'd looked something like that when he'd been drinking. She finished, and leaned staggeringly against the railing again. "Do you know how Jack died?"

"I do not," Norrington answered, retrieving the bottle, hoping to keep it from her as well as take a prolonged drink.

"The Kraken attacked the Black Pearl," she said with a sadistic smile that turned into a quivering frown. "Jack went down with the ship." The sentence was forced, painful, and brought on more tears. Norrington searched her face as the light began to spill over the deck.

"Did he?" He asked. Elizabeth turned to face him, eyes wide and frightened-- exposed.

The bell rang nearby. Six bells. Elizabeth turned away, shaking her head.

"I'm sorry," she said again before moving off across the deck. He watched her go, holding the bottle of half-finished rum in one hand. He transferred it to his mouth as quickly as possible, trying to forget the feel of Elizabeth's body etched against his own.


AN: About Gillette's name: I wasn't sure about his first name, but I had seen several people use "Nathaniel" or "Nathan" so I assumed that this was his first name. If it's never mentioned or I'm wrong, please tell me! I hate to be wrong, and I'd love the input. Otherwise, I think I had fun writing this one. The scene with Elizabeth is a throw-back to Philospohy Lesson if y'all haven't read it. It's all right if you haven't, maybe just a little funner... Who knows. Anyway, hope you enjoyed my Will and Barbossa in this chappy, for they shall stick around for a while! Bye for now, and happy reading!