Author's Note: Back again for the second chapter. Sorry it took a while, but expect following updates to take as long or longer. I wish I could write more, but I have college applications to fill out and pages on pages of notes to take for AP U.S. History. Yay. Enjoy and please leave me a review if you have time! I love reading them—good or bad.

Pirates of the Caribbean: The Devil's Eye

Chapter 2: A Toast

Newly reinstated Commodore James Norrington gazed around him at the beautiful ladies at the ball and wondered how he could have ever been heartbroken over Elizabeth Swann, just a little over a year ago. "Commodore," said Cecilia graciously, interrupting him from his thoughts, "I could do with some more wine."

"Of course my dear."

"Thank you, James."

Norrington got up and wove his way through dancing couples to the beverage table, nodding and saying hello to everyone he knew, and some he didn't. This ball was for him and his reinstatement as Commodore of the Royal Navy. He had Elizabeth Swann, Jack Sparrow and William Turner to thank. As he neared the wine, Lord Cutler Beckett hailed him over. Beckett was chiefly responsible for the "higher end" of his reinstatement.

"Ah, Commodore, I hope you are enjoying yourself?" Beckett asked, and without waiting for a reply, "I'd like to introduce you to someone if I may, Commodore." He turned to the tall woman at his side. She was tall in comparison to Lord Beckett, Norrington noticed amusedly, but after further examination, she was only slightly tall for her sex, and extraordinarily beautiful. Beckett was saying, "—the lovely Lady Sophia Patton, just arrived from England."

Norrington bowed, "Lady Sophia," and kissed her hand.

"Commodore Norrington, I have heard much about you and your recent contributions to the East India Trading Company," Lady Sophia said cordially.

"Oh yes, the Commodore actually recovered the heart of Davy Jones for us, Sophia," then, to Norrington, "Lady Sophia is the granddaughter of the late Lord Patton, one of the original founders of the Company. Her family currently has a quarter of the shares in the company, making them highly influential."

"Well, I must say," said Norrington, taking Sophia's hand and kissing it, "I haven't been in this good of company for quite a while. Would you honor me with this dance?" He had completely forgotten about getting Cecilia another drink by this point, and was immersed in the beauty radiating off Lady Sophia.

Sophia smiled, "My pleasure."

"Pardon, us, Lord Beckett," said Norrington, apologizing for leaving.

"Oh, not at all Commodore," he leaned towards Norrington and whispered, "She's a rich one and plenty available, if you catch my drift. They say she has 60,000 pounds or more."

Norrington was aghast. Such a large dowry, one did not get so lucky very often. Sophia was a beautiful young woman—besides her stunning looks and wealth, she was very accomplished and quite enjoyable to talk to. "So, Commodore," she asked during one of the dances when they were paired together for the entire dance—for they had been dancing quite some time now, and were soliciting numerous stares and whispers behind fans and hands--, "this heart of Davy Jones, it is real then?"

"Of course it's real, darling. As real as I'm standing here with a lovely lady dancing in my arms."

"So what is the story behind it? Why does Lord Beckett need it for the company as much as he claims? It seems rather like a pirate myth if I've ever heard one—the beating heart of a man, locked in a chest; the heart of a devil who entices dying sailors to join his crew and serve him on the Flying Dutchman for 100 years, as an alternative to dying," Sophia pressed him inquisitively. "Beckett said he will be able to control the seas now, but how?"

Norrington saw no harm in telling her, but led her off the dance floor and outside, where they stood on the balcony together, the darkness crowding them like a throng of people on market day. It took him some time to start the story as he rearranged the thoughts in his head.

"Once upon a time," Norrington started, smiling at his fairytale beginning, "as legend tells it, Davy Jones fell in love with a woman as beautiful and untamable as the sea. She broke his heart, however, when she left him. No one knows where she went, and she hasn't been seen through this day, though sailors often tell tales of her return."

"What was her name?" asked Sophia, looking enthralled by the story.

"Calypso. Now, Davy Jones was anguished and angry. They say his heart hurt so much that he carved it out of his body, locked it in a chest, and buried it on an island. He wasn't truly alive, not truly dead. He's said to look like a squid, the tentacles his hair and beard. He took control of the Flying Dutchman and uses her to create havoc on the seas. Jones can summon a huge sea monster, the Kraken, to wreck ships and hunt down those he wants dead. He has a crew of damned men, those who were shipwrecked and dying a slow, torturous death. They find out after joining the Flying Dutchman that death would have been preferable to 100 years of service," Norrington moved closer to Lady Sophia, slowly wrapping his arm about her waist.

"So what's the purpose of taking Davy Jones' heart?"

"The purpose, darling, is that, with the heart, Davy Jones is in your control. We can control the seas with his heart. If he doesn't do what we want, we can kill him, torture him. The East India Trading Company will rule the seas. The king will also be forced to do what we want; we will control the world!" Norrington was breathing heavily now, excited about the imminent future and what it had in store for him.

"Of course you will," whispered Sophia, a bit breathily. She leaned closer to him, and Norrington bent closer, until their lips met. What a lucky man he was, Norrington thought smugly. He'd shown Jack Sparrow.

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Cecilia had been waiting patiently for Commodore Norrington for twenty minutes now, having noticed him talking to Lord Beckett. But Beckett was currently five feet away from her, with the commodore nowhere to be found. With a huff, she got up and made her way to the beverage table on her own. She looked around, but didn't see him, so she got herself her own glass of England's finest and slowly made her way outside where it was cooler. When she finally noticed the couple at the balcony, Cecilia was outraged. The nerve of that man! She walked calmly over to the occupied couple and tapped Norrington on the shoulder. He slowly turned away from Cecilia to see who had tapped him. His eyes widened as he saw Cecilia, and widened even more when she brought her hand hard across his face.

"Thank you for the drink, Commodore," she smiled prettily and then tossed the wine in his face. As he was sputtering in astonishment, she turned and left to return to the party. What he had done was rude, so she had to put him in his place. Now though, she was free to roam the party in search of men much more handsome and intriguing than Commodore James Norrington. He was no great loss to her.

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The next morning dawned clear and bright, but the westerly was sure to bring a storm by the afternoon. Norrington was in a hurry; today they were setting sail to talk to Davy Jones. Lord Beckett seemed assured that he would arrive at the precise time and place indicated in the bottle thrown out to sea a few weeks ago. How he knew this, Norrington hadn't a clue. Their meeting place was the Isla de Cruzes, the same island on which the chest that had contained Jones' heart had been buried. Norrington figured that it had been chosen as the rendezvous because it held some sentimentality for Davy Jones, one that could be used to their advantage.

Overhead gulls cawed voraciously, as they dove time and again when a scrap of food presented itself. The docks at Port Royal were slow today, all the better that they embark on their voyage quietly. Men scrambled out of the Commodore's way as he walked briskly towards the Fortitude, late as he was. Lord Beckett would be displeased with him. How the pompous fool had gotten into such good graces with the king really nerved him. The king received a great deal of money from the East India Trading Company, however, so he supposed it shouldn't surprise him that that insatiable king favored Beckett and a company that could control the whole New World for him. Loyalty was accounting for less and less these days as greed and ambition overtook the English hierarchy. He himself, Norrington amusedly noted, got into Lord Beckett's good graces with a bribe, on both of their parts.

As he was nearing the Fortitude, a young sailor didn't know rushed up to him with a message. "Commodore Norrington, sir, a message from Captain Gillette, of the Dauntless, sir."

The sailor stood by anxiously as Norrington opened the letter and read it quickly. It was short and sweet. Norrington smiled when he finished reading it, fished out a shilling for the sailor—who looked extremely satisfied for Norrington's uncommon generosity—and said, "Thank you my good lad. Please tell Captain Gillette I am thankful for that piece of information. It makes my job easier. He just put to port this morning, I heard?" The boy nodded. "Good, good. Tell him that I will be at sea for a while, and he is to be in command of the fleet until I get back."

Norrington smiled as he continued his way to the Fortitude. This was very good news. Who would have thought? He hastened to tell Lord Beckett as soon as he stepped on deck of the ship.

Lord Beckett was to be found in his cabin, examining a map of the world—which he did quite frequently—and continued to study it as Norrington entered, obviously oblivious to the Commodore's presence. Or so Norrington had thought. He had been about to clear his throat when Beckett spoke to him, still examining the map intently.

"Yes, Commodore?" Norrington jumped nervously, clearly not expecting Beckett to notice him.

"Ah, yes, um Lord Beckett, sir," Norrington appeared to regain control of his composure. "I just received news from Captain Gillette, sir. Important news," he grinned at this.

"Yes?" Beckett prompted, finally looking up at Norrington as he detected the odd note of gleefulness in his voice. "What is it?"

"Jack Sparrow, sir."

Beckett looked triumphant. "So we finally captured the infamous Jack Sparrow?"

"No, sir," said Norrington, his face impassive.

"What then, Commodore? Stop beating around." Beckett's face was getting red from anger. He didn't like being fooled with.

"The Kraken got him. He's dead. Jack Sparrow was taken by the sea and is gone from this world."

Beckett's face resumed its normal pale color as he turned and sneered while looking out the window at the sea. "Thank you for the news, Commodore," he breathed in heavily and then blew it back out as he walked over to a table to pour drinks. He handed one to Norrington. "A toast then!" he proclaimed, raising his glass as Norrington did likewise. "To Davy Jones and the Kraken!" he took a drink, and then raised his glass once more as afterthought. "And to Jack Sparrow. Good riddance."