Note: I own nothing! Disney owns POTC and all the characters...my characters will be introduced next chapter! Please review!
James Norrington stared out at the open ocean. He was to be chasing down Will, Elizabeth, and, if still alive, Jack. Rumors of Jack Sparrow's death were surfacing like sea foam, and part of the redemption assignment Lord Beckett had given him was to determine if they were true. The crew he had been given were fairly competent, but they were very straight laced, as Norrington had been in his former life. The life that had been ripped away from him as easily as the wind had torn away the sails of the Dauntless. James winced. He was still unsure if his life had been stripped from him for a reason. He missed the freedom that the Black Pearl had given him, and laughed. Sparrow had always talked about the sense of freedom the Pearl gave him, and it was true. When James had been a mere sailor-a mere pirate- he'd been the happiest he'd been in a long time. But here he was, back on a large, overbearing, stuffy ship, with sailors who had never felt a day of freedom in their lives. He blinked a few times. He was hesitant of precisely what trail to follow on the tail of the Black Pearl. He figured he'd have his crew stop in Tortuga. They could do ship maintenance, and he could check if Jack or the Pearl had been sighted in the area. With a heavy sigh, Norrington heaved himself off the railing, and made to go back to his quarters.
"Captain," said one of the starchy sailors as he approached, "we should make landfall by this evening."
"Brilliant," murmured James. The soft taste of rum engulfed his senses the nearer they gained upon the Tortuga port. He tried to push it away-to push all memories of his time on that island away-and sighed, putting his hands to his face.
His appearance had improved slightly since the last time he had arrived in his stolen boat with a broken oar, his hurricane beaten powdered wig hardly attached to his head, his own chocolate hair exploding from beneath it. His once grand commodore's uniform had been beaten, the gold trim attached by bare threads. Norrington looked down at himself, and sighed. The uniform of the Royal Navy no longer suited him. Though he had tamed his hair back, he had not fully removed the beard which had accumulated on his chin. His fellow crewmembers frowned upon him for this, but it was a last ditch effort at holding on to his sense of freedom. He looked in the mirror at the Navy sailor, and shook his head. That would not do in Tortuga.
That evening, as they pulled into a port, he felt an odd sense overcome him. It was almost a homely feeling. The rest of the crew, however, eyed the city with dismay.
"Captain, are you sure this is a good idea?" a young sailor questioned. James looked at him.
"Yes and no," he replied, frightening them. "Yes, I'm sure we'll be fine, but I am leaving all traces of my Navy gear and employment aboard, merely to be precautious. I will return shortly, with news and a heading," James jumped down onto the boarding plank, grinning. A burly man approached him.
"Are you staying, sir?" he questioned .
"My men are performing maintenance, and I plan to run ashore and grab myself some refreshment," Norrington said, pressing a coin into the man's palm. He nodded, and Norrington hurried of to one of the many Tortuga taverns.
He entered, smirking to himself. The place had not changed at all. He settled himself at the bar, his white shirt already stained with the spray of the sea and the dust off the ground. The barmaster eyed him.
"Aye?"
"Best bottle of rum ye got," Norrington garbled. When the barmaster turned, his eyes widened. Had he just said ye? A short exchange of bottle and coin, and James was once again satisfied.
"Any news of ol' Jack Sparrow?" conversed Norrington. The man beside him laughed.
"Jack's got himself a residence in the belly o' the Kraken, lasts I 'erd. Went down wit' the Pearl. Crew escaped, but I gots no idea how." Norrington shook his head and sighed.
"Where'd they go?" he took a long, heavy swig of rum.
"Nobody knows. Some says they found themselves a new captain, others says they're still roaming about out there, a praying to be picked up before ol' Davy Jones has 'is way wif 'em. I says they gonna try 'n' save ol' Jack, but no soul believes me," the man eyed Norrington. "You ever do buisiness wif Jack?"
"Oh, a bit. Not enough to know him well," Norrington smirked and drank.
"Well, listen you me, Jack ain't one to go easy. I won't be surprised if he kills the beast from the inside out just to be free," the man bit his lip. "None of us gots enough nerve to go 'n' search for the beast, mere for fear 'o' Davy Jones 'n' 'is locker. But the crew gonna save him, they will. When they does, yous come find me. Old Pete was right, he was, you'll say." Pete slammed his heavy tankard down.
"Mercy Pete, you really think the crew's following the beast?" Norrington frowned.
"Heavens no. There's a place, where the falls go deep…and that's where Jones' victims go, 'n' 'ats where they'll find ol' Jack."
"Where they'll find Jack?" Norrington was in puzzled disbelief. How could they find him if he'd been eaten?
"They'll find him. At the end of the world."
