The Gift

Chapter 16:

Setting: Post POTC 3

Characters: Norrington/ OFC

With blade and pistol ready, Norrington, young lieutenant Mowett, and four of his most trusted sailors, hid in the dense forest that lined the main road from Santa Marta port to the plantations. Overhead, storm clouds gathered, and a cold wind blew furiously, rustling the trees with foreboding.

Along with a hoard of other slaves, James had seen Gillette and Lucy in shackles, and there was only one place they could going-- to the mountainous coffee fields for back-breaking labor. Of course, he would not let that happen.

Within a few minutes after taking their hiding places amongst the thick jungle vines, a donkey cart appeared around the bend followed by a clanking mass of shackled humans shuffling in a silent, defeated march. A few young slavers holding whips lingered at their sides, chewing tobacco and occasionally hurling insults at their chained captives.

Gillette and Norrington locked eyes for a brief moment, and it was enough time for Andrew to create a diversion. Andrew stopped suddenly, causing Lucy to run into his back.

"Watch out, you old cow!"

"What?"

She looked at him, perplexed.

"I said I'm tired of your moaning!"

He yelled this time and gave her a slight push.

"Back off!"

One of the slavers was at his side in a flash.

"Que es la problema!" the man shouted.

The entire caravan had stopped, all eyes now on the malay that Andrew had created. And it was just the diversion Norrington needed. Just as the slavers whip cracked on Gillette's back, a pistol fired, the man dropped dead. Suddenly, there was more gun fire, a few shouts from the Spanish slavers and swords clinked in battle.

Lucy looked up just as James Norrington grabbed the last slaver from behind and slit his throat with a wild, beastly look glowing in his green eyes.

"James!" She shouted in sheer joy.

Norrington stooped down and rummaged the body for keys to their shackles.

"Got another set over here, sir!" called Mowett.

Norrington motioned to the assorted lot of human captives.

"Unshackle these men and women!"

Blood stained his shirt and as he stood with his hair unbound and the look of a wild man still in his eyes, Lucy began to cry.

"James!"

He rushed to her, hands shaking as he unlocked her shackles. He might be furious when it came to battle, but his name coming from her lips quite undid him. And as soon as she was free, Lucy threw her arms around him.

"I love you, James! I love you!"

It was as if an arrow had pierced his heart, his voice rough as he answered her.

"Oh, Lucy…"

It was everything he had dreamed of hearing from her, and he buried his lips into her hair, reveling in her scent and her warm, welcoming touch.

"Shhh! You're safe, I have you." he offered, more as a comfort to himself than to the woman melting in his arms.

"I thought I'd never see you again, James. And I thought…" she wept. "I thought I'd never get to tell you how much you mean to me."

James pulled back and smiled, brushing away her tears just as his own eyes turned a bit glassy.

"No more sailing without me, alright?"

She laughed and took his hand, kissing the palm.

"I promise, love."

Norrington blushed at such a show of affection in front of his men.

"Umm... sir?"

Andrew appeared at Norrington's side and held up his shackled wrists.

"I'm not a papist."

Norrington grinned.

"Andrew Gillette!" he laughed. "I've never been more glad to see you, papist or not."

Then he freed his officer of the iron bonds.

"Thank you, sir. I like you, too," Andrew quipped, rubbing at his sore wrists.

And with a hand tightly entwined with Lucy's, he whispered, "Now we must make our escape, for we've the Falcon to meet."

He motioned to his crew, and the English sailors disappeared into the jungle's thicket, leaving behind five dead slavers and thirty freed slaves.

As soon as they cleared the brush, it was obvious that the Falcon and the Golden Bones were locked in a sea battle just outside the harbor of Santa Marta, their cannons booming red and orange against a graying sky. The Falcon was the swifter ship, but the Golden Bones outgunned her. And if they were going to take her, they would need every man.

When Norrington declared, "We must row out to her," he was swiftly met with an eager, "Aye, sir!" The Falcon's crew looked forward to bloody hand-to-hand combat from time-to-time, especially if it were followed by the prize of a pirate ship. Within moments, they were rowing across the choppy waters of the Columbian inlet. And James' face knotted as he finally noticed blood streaking the back of Andrew's white waistcoat.

"What in Christ's name did they do to you, Gillette?"

"Barbossa decided to have it out on me. Nothing too serious, sir, except my pride," he admitted and continued to relay the entire spy ring and its cast of evil characters. To say the least, Norrington was shocked.

"I never would have suspected Donaldson..." he said, mind troubled as he wondered what Scottish loyalists lurked in Port Royal. As they tied up alongside The Falcon, it was obvious that the crew had already begun the battle.

"James, I've already lost you once," Lucy said, gripping his hand tightly.

But Norrington turned his back to his crew, his face pained as he said, "Lucy, my duty as an officer come first. I am bound..."

"...by honor and duty," she finished, her dark eyes sad. "I know," she whispered as she looked downward. "Go."

He wished to kiss her, but there was no time. Instead, he wrapped his hand around hers and squeezed it tightly before turning to the ropes.

"No Captain, stay here."

Then placing a pistol in Gillette's hand, he leaned close and Andrew could feel the heat of his breath, the intensity of the man's eyes burning into him.

"That pistol has two shots. If we shouldn't make it... you know what is required of you."

Gillette had always been a man to answer duty when it called, as well.

"Yes, sir," he said with his jaw set hard.

Sometimes duty was a bitch.