Pure mayhem.
Every sea battle was mayhem, but this trumped anything James Norrington had ever experienced at sea. The howling maelstrom brewed all around them, pulling this unholy ship into a spinning vortex of seawater. It rained so hard one could hardly tell where the sea ended and the sky began.
Jack disappeared into the hullaballoo as they emerged from the companionway, and James looked around to gain his bearings, making a grab for the gunwale as their ship lurched at what should have been an impossible angle. But somehow the forward momentum of the whirlpool kept the ship from sinking into the sea, and the experienced sea captain was only further befuddled as the Pearl came so close that the rigging of their topmasts tangled and stuck.
Immediately the crew of the Pearl began to board the Dutchman, and James called out to his waiting Marines, "To me!" Though they were obviously scared stiff, God bless them for good English fighting men. They conquered their fright and followed their commander into the fray against Jones' fish-men with fierce battle cries.
The fish-men had become so used to ignoring the human soldiers that the initial onslaught took them by surprise, and several fell immediately.
Then across the deck James saw Elizabeth fighting for her life against a shark-man, the same who had nearly killed her on the Isle las Cruces. She was fierce and beautiful, and making a far better account of herself this round. In the time that had passed since then she had obviously been practicing. James began to make his way towards her, slashing and stabbing and trying not to fall on his arse on the slick deck.
Elizabeth defeated the shark-man with a feint and a blow across the back of his neck that left his hammerhead hanging by tendrils of flesh. She wondered if he would heal from that, but if so surely it would take a good long while. Why did she always find herself locked in battle with supernatural beasties who could not die? What she would give for a normal foe once in a while.
She clashed with another crustaceous crew member, snarling as the thing tried to run her through. She returned the favor, and kicked it away with a triumphant cry. Suddenly there was a clash of steel right next to her ear, and she turned to see Admiral Norrington with his blade bared, having just blocked a sword that was aimed right for her head. "James!" she exclaimed with delight as he routed her attacker, neatly severing the thing's eel head with a clever backslash. His technique was lethal poetry in motion, every deadly action a thing of high art.
"Your Highness," he returned with a smirk that made her insides flip.
They stood back to back and took on more attackers, and somehow they managed to simultaneously fight and converse. Elizabeth shouted over the din of the battle, "We must find the heart!"
"Jack has the goddamned heart!" snarled James, blocking a blow and guiding his sword into his attacker's throat. "What is he waiting for?"
They searched the decks, and it was nearly impossible to make sense of the melee while fighting for their lives at the same time. But Elizabeth spotted their Trickster across the way, locked in altercation with Jones himself. His mouth was moving, as usual, and James wondered if Sparrow had changed his mind and was now trying to negotiate? Had the sight of the Dutchman up close given the pirate a case of cold feet?
"We have to help him!" Elizabeth declared and immediately began cutting her way to Jack.
"Of course we do," grumbled James under his breath, rolling his eyes heavenward.
Yet even through his annoyance James could hardly blame Jack for his reluctance. Who would want to take on this, forever? To only know warmth and human companionship once every ten years? Inevitably his gaze was drawn to Elizabeth, his longing for her a palpable thing that pulsed and thrummed in his chest, his love for her woven into every part of his very being. He wondered if she would still marry him, after all this was over? How would they live? Where would they go? Nothing was certain, but as she turned to pay him a smile all his doubts were put to rest.
She loved him.
She loved him and they would find a way.
James caught movement out the corner of his eye, and instinctively he immediately moved to shield Elizabeth's body with his own.
Suddenly there was a fiery sharp pain in James' side.
He cried out, and turned to see Bootstrap Bill with a harpoon in hand, part of which was now buried under James' ribs. "Oh," was all he could manage to say, and his legs gave out from under him.
Distantly he was aware of a scream. "James!" There was a close clashing of metal. Curses and snarls. "What are you doing? Will is trying to free you!"
Voices. Shouts. Loud noises, terrible din, all fading away so quickly.
The iron tang of blood in his mouth.
Oh no. He had to get up. Elizabeth needed him. This was no time to lie down.
He tried to move his limbs but found them cold and unresponsive. A fuzzy haze began to fill the edges of his vision.
Suddenly Elizabeth was before him, her hands on his cheeks so warm against the chill creeping over him. "James? James don't close your eyes. Stay with me!"
"I'm sorry, Elizabeth."
His eyes were so heavy he could hardly keep them open. Maybe he just needed a little rest? A little rest, and then…
"James, I love you! Please don't leave me!"
I love you. Such sweet words from the woman he adored. Somehow he managed a small smile through the pain and the cold and the darkness closing in. "I love you," he said. "I'll always love you."
The weight in his eyelids won their battle, and James only felt Elizabeth press her lips to his, and her forehead against his forehead, and her cheek against his cheek. She was crying, and he wanted to tell her not to be afraid, that she was strong and smart and she would always be fine, but he couldn't speak, and the darkness fell like a curtain around him.
Elizabeth screamed with grief and rage, sobbing against James' neck. She could taste his blood on her mouth. His flesh was still warm, but he was gone.
Gone.
The man who had always been there for her was now gone, and she could hardly fathom the reality of it. How was this possible? They were so close. So close and they were going to win this battle—they always won, didn't they? And then they were going to get married and finally be happy and—
She leapt to her feet with a renewed energy. This had to end now, even if she had to stab that fucking heart herself. What was Jack waiting for? Fiercely she made her way across the deck, screaming and slashing as she went, even if her vision was blurred by tears. Time was of the essence. She was certain of that. While the veil between life and death was still thin. Perhaps there would be a way—death seemed such an impermanent fate with this lot, if you had the right leverage, the right map, the right word. If Barbossa and Jack had been given a second chance, surely there was a way to save James too?
When finally she reached Jack and Jones she noticed Will was on the ground, a sword stuck in his chest. One more claimed by this awful battle, but the pang she felt for him was nothing to the violent grief she felt for James. Jack seemed to be locked in a stalemate with Jones, the heart in his palm, a broken cutlass in his other hand. With a howl of rage Elizabeth struck out at Jones, slicing him across the back of his neck, octopus tendrils flying through the air.
Jones made the most terrible inhuman sound and whirled to face her, hatred burning in his beady black eyes.
Then, he convulsed, as though someone had run him through, though no blade showed in his body.
Elizabeth looked down to see Jack had stabbed the heart with Will's hand wrapped around the blade. The ship began to shudder, and all the remaining fish-men immediately stopped fighting, turning to focus their attention upon Will. As one entity they began to move towards him, ignoring Jones' corpse.
An eerie chant rose from them. "Part of the ship, part of the crew."
The currents of the whirlpool shifted and the Pearl broke free, quickly drifting away. But Elizabeth could not stop staring at Will, at the heart. What was going on?
The Dutchman descended further and further into the whirlpool, and it seemed as though the sea would swallow them after all. Jack ran frantically about, gathering ropes and a fallen sail. "Time to go, dearie," said Jack, pulling her back. "This ship is sinking and we ain't goin' with it."
"I can't go. James is—"
Jack followed her frantic gaze to the fallen Admiral, who even at a distance Jack could clearly see had life in him no more. "I'm sorry love, but he's gone. We have to go."
"No, but—"
"You bloody think he would want you to die too? Hold on to me, we have to go now!"
Elizabeth could not think straight. This was not what was supposed to happen! But with trembling arms she latched on to Jack, and as the ship sank beneath their feet a final gust of wind caught Jack's jury-rigged parachute, lifting them out of the whirlpool's gaping maw. She wept on Jack's chest as she watched the cursed ship sink, and the love of her life gone to the depths with it.