A/N: Hope you're enjoying the story so far! Read and review please, a craftsman is glad to hear his/her work is appreciated after all! I don't own POTC or Norrington, however nice that would be.
The captain lay in bed that night, tired and confused. Why, out of nowhere, had she decided to leave, and why, now that she was gone, was his every thought about her? He rubbed his eyes and rolled over, then heard a soft noise.
"Simon?" he said to the dark. No voice answered. James bit his lip and fumbled about for his sword, which rested between his headboard and nightstand. Candlelight fell upon the face in front of him, which belonged to Avery.
"G'night Captain," he said, holding up a heavy sword. Norrington yelled and jumped up, still wearing his knickers and a flowing white shirt. Though his feet were bare, he fought up the stairs to the main deck, yelling and attempting to rouse the crew, though Avery's fellow mutineers were already stationed on deck, prepared to fight. As though on cue, Camron Sharpe and Simon rushed up, swords drawn and ready to fight any man attempting to saw down their captain.
"The penalty for mutiny is almost certain death," Norrington hissed. Avery laughed.
"I'll take my chances," he smirked. Their swords beat off of one another repeatedly. James sighed.
"Why can jealousy drive a man to be mad?" he questioned. Avery shook his head.
"You don't deserve this job. You bribed him for it; you stole and acted ruthless just to get what you wanted. I wouldn't call this jealousy; I'd call this doing the right thing." Avery slashed and stabbed to no avail. Norrington fought dirty, swinging off ropes and clambering about. He battled like the pirate he was. Avery was quickly annoyed.
"Fight like a soldier, will you? Fight how we've been taught."
"I'll fight like what I am."
"A cheat?"
"A pirate." This phrase did not bode well for Avery, who let out an angry and horrified shriek. Norrington swung himself up onto a higher deck, then began to ascend up the sails.
"Come back down here!" yelled Avery. "I will not rest until I have run you through." Norrington held a rope and flew down upon Avery, slashing, stabbing, anything to fight.
"Damn it Avery, I thought I liked you."
"Captain, if I may, which doesn't matter anyway seeing as in a short time you'll be captain no longer, you are putting this crew through many dangers, simply after a night in a bar."
"Oh lord, I'm taking us to arrest these people as Beckett ordered, for Pete's sake!"
"Who's Pete?"
"The man from whom I received our heading," Norrington conversed casually, the duel still in full swing.
"You mean to say our heading was given to you by a drunken man, and you believed him?"
"The man knew--"
"He knew nothing! Turner and Swann will NOT be in Australia, and Sparrow is dead. They are surely sailing back to England to give a proper service for their fallen friend—something Sharpe and the boy will have to do soon," Avery laughed. Norrington's heart stopped as he looked over at Simon and comprehending the danger he was in.
"No…" he muttered, stepping away, but the tip of Avery's sword caught his cheek.
"Oh, of course, how silly of me," Avery realized. He shoved Norrington to the floor and whistled to a sailor, who brought over a struggling Simon. "It's your life or his," Avery laughed, his sword to the boy's neck. "Choose now, save his skin or your own."
"Take me," Norrington blurted. "Do not harm him, please, take my life," he stepped forward, empty hands at his sides. Avery threw the boy aside.
"Very well then," he grinned. "Goodbye, Captain." Norrington's eyes followed the sword in slow motion as it went up and made to come down. A gurgling noise interrupted Avery however, for it was erupting from his own mouth. The sword fell to Norrington's feet, and Avery went limp. Norrington searched about, but both Simon and Sharpe stood, transfixed. Avery collapsed to reveal Ginny, brandishing a blood encrusted sword.
A/N: Sorry this chapter's so short, but I promise the next one will be longer.
