Summary: Norrington has given the heart of Davy Jones to the East India Trading Company and in their gratitude they have awarded him his position of Commodore as well as a large sum of wealth. Barbossa abandoned the crew for his own survival when he found the Royal Navy was on their tail, leaving te crew to fend for themselves against the Royal fleet. They never foind Jack. Norrington has captured Elizabeth, Will, and most of the rest of the crew and they await his judgement in the dankest cells of Port Royale. What will become of the broken lovers and hapless crew? This fic is RATED M, to be safe, and subject is not appropriate for children.
Chapter 1:
Norrington stood upon the battlements of Port Royale, surveying the land as if he were the King himself. Everything had turned about remarkably well, it seemed. He had his life back, with the few extra perks he had not had before, all the vagabonds who had and might have disrupted his success were now within his hands, submissive to his whim in the hopes they would attain his mercy.
He relished that fact, particularly every time he thought about a particular two. The young William Turner and his ex-fiance, the lovely quick-tongued clever wench he used to love so much.
He could not lie to himself. He still loved her despite her trickery and foul play-about with his heart. She had reduced him to a pathetic, broken man. Perhaps that was why he still loved her. No other woman on earth could make his pulse quicken, his mouth nigh unquenchable, His body tingle with flames as the way she did by simply dressing in a privateers clothing and giving him a fiery stare.
Beautiful and feminine and dangerous as only a woman could be, and yet able to brave the seas better than most of his best men employed in the finest Navy his Highness had to offer. He smiled to himself. That was his Elizabeth.
His stomach did a flop and the smirk that had somehow crept to his face melted away immediately. When had he started thinking of her as His Elizabeth? She wasn't his.
Not yet, at least.
But she could be.
Jayms snorted to himself and thought cynically: if she'd ever have me.
Almost as if drawn by his thoughts, Lord Beckett of the East India Trading Company was suddenly walking as slowly as may be, clearly taking his time and exerting an effort to destroy the peace and quiet Jayms was utilizing.
Beckett stopped next to Jayms and looked to the sunset, feeling the soft breeze. "Royale is a beautiful place, don't you think?"
Jayms nodded curtly, acknowledging the uneasy peace that barely crackled between them.
"So have you come to a conclusion on what to do with our rag tag team of wretches down below then, Commodore?" Beckett drawled, not taking his eyes off the horizon.
Norrington smiled and told the Commander just what he wanted to hear: "I thought I'd let you make that decision, sir."
"Well, I thought Mr. Turner would enjoy some time in the employment of our Company, aboard your ship, with Mr. Sparrow. Don't you think it would be touching, to see the two friends working together, in such harmony?"
Unbidden, a smile crept to the Commodores face. "Why yes, I do, Lord Beckett. However, Mister Sparrow appears to have perished at sea, as it appears they were all on a mission to find his body, or something of that nature. But what of the rest of the crew?"
Lord Beckett shrugged and said calmly. "I see no reason for them to suffer as Turner and Sparrow. They can face the noose."
Norrington turned to Beckett. "Do you really think it necessary for all of them to die, sir? Surely they can
find employment somewhere else?"
Beckett faced Norrington and replied: "and let theiving murderous pirates roam free in the sea I now control? What do you think that will make me look like, Commodore? If you expect to keep your position, you must learn to count your losses." With that, he began to walk away, but was stopped by the Commodore who wished to know about the one person Beckett had not mentioned.
"And what of Miss Swan, Beckett?"
"I beg your pardon, Norrington?"
"What will become of the soon to be Miss Turner, Lord Beckett, sir." He waited with baited breath, and he heard Beckett chuckle.
"How good of you to remind me, Commodore. I did promise the recent Governor Swann that I would do what I could for his daughter. You present the perfect opportunity. She will employ herself in your service, as your maid."
Norrington scoffed. "Come come now, sir, do you honestly think she will consent to that?"
"She will if she wants her fiancé to live."
He stared at the new Governor with incredulity. There was absolutely no way Elizabeth would lower herself, and certainly no way she would consent after a threat to her fiance. But perhaps….
After all, she had not minded dressing and working as a sailor, she had relished the thought of giving up her expensive dresses and practiced etiquette for a dirty, albeit dangerous and exciting life of a sailor. She had always wanted to, ever since he had met her that early year she had boarded his ship as a young girl only four years his junior. So perhaps now, with no choice and left with only one opportunity to save her beloved…if he was even so any more. Since he had captured Elizabeth and Will their relationship seemed strained, broken. They were short with one another and would not look each other in the eye. So perhaps….perhaps.
As Beckett walked away, Norrington marveled at his luck. The feisty, snotty Miss Swan was to be his maid!
He gave a small chuckle at that, and smiled to himself. On his way down from the battlements, he whispered to one of the men to alert their prisoners of the situation. Then he climbed into his carriage and traveled home, sleeping soundly with the knowledge that he would soon be in some very interesting company.
She arrived a week later, dressed in her pirates rags. He took one look at her and ordered Molly, his older maid, to clean her up. She would not look at him, she kept her eyes downcast but her chin held a distinct defiant demeanor. He walked up to her and lifted her chin with two fingers. Still she kept her eyes down. He leaned into her and spoke in his most condescending tone.
"Welcome to my home, Elizabeth."
Indeed it was quite a home. He was very proud of it. But Elizabeth raised her ayes and glowered at him.
"My home, Commodore, is with William, on the sea."
Jayms smiled in the most condescending way he could. "Not anymore, Miss Swan. This will be your new address. Do remember that there is no place for a woman at sea in these times. If you want to see it again, you shall have to earn it, as the rest of my staff does. Your fiancé will also be employed upon my ship, working as one of my privates with the chance to gain rank. The life of a military man can be promising, Elizabeth, for the man and his dependents. I have offered him a life he can build upon, and you should be grateful."
She stepped back, shaking her head, a glint of fire in her eye. "You've given neither of us a life, Commodore. Only a prison of which you are Commander. Everything is as it used to be, only this time I have no pity for you."
Her words bit at him like the winter wind, but he covered his pain with a haughty laugh. "Pity? You think I wish for it, Miss Swann? No, nor will I repeat my offer of engagement. You have given up your position, and I will not soil myself with a servant. You will find now what it is to have no privilege and work for what you must have. As will your beloved. You are together and happy that way, and I wish you the best. But you are right-I am your Commander, and thus expect no mercy or special treatment. You will listen and you will work, or you will not eat or sleep. You wished to be a man, so I will treat you as one, and you will work as one. Welcome to the rest of your life, Miss Swan."
He nodded to Molly "Show her the ropes, my dear Miss Tafrill."
Molly grinned impishly and grabbed Elizabeth, dragging her away. The Commodore glanced once down his nose at her and calmly walked away without a second look back.
Elizabeth could not believe it. She was reduced to the position of maid in the Commodores house! Her blood boiled at the thought of the way he had looked at her, spoken to her. How dare he? Who did he think he was?
Oh, right. Her "Commander". Now the Troll like woman was throwing her into a small dingy room with a tiny window.
"These are to be your servants quarters" she grunted, and Elizabeth turned, grinding her teeth, to face the woman, who was busying herself with a small cupboard on one wall of the tiny room. Four dusty walls, with one bed opposite the one she stood by, a cupboard beside the opposite bed, and a crude wooden vanity with a small mirror. Suddenly a large pile of cotton hit her it the face and she yelped in surprise, looking around.
The woman had evidently thrown her her new uniform, a black and white long sleeved full skirted gown and apron to match. She looked at the older woman in disbelief.
The woman glowered at her and pointed out of the room….Elizabeth held her head high and haughtily stormed out, only to be grabbed once more by the ogre woman and steered to a bathroom, small and crude, but spotless. She was ordered to shower and dress, and then the door was shut and she was left to her thoughts.
She had neglected, purposefully, telling the Commodore that she was no longer engaged, no longer to become Mrs. Turner. Will was very blunt in jail about the whole situation with Jack, and he had heard from the rest of the crew how well Jack and she had gotten along, as well as the story of the Compass the Commodore had relayed to him, for James had noticed that the compass pointed to Jack while in her possession.
Will had therefore come to her with the conclusion that he needed to focus on keeping his vow to his father and how she needed to return to her father. But she knew better. It was all Will just trying to be mature and strong about the truth that was tearing him apart inside, that his bride and only love was not a faithful fiancé. Now, looking back on the cancelled engagement, she felt herself choke up and went to start the shower….