|
Piracy Itself:
BY: Alicia GraybillIn The Hands of a Pirate 2 *** Chapter 1 - Proposition
“So, will you do it then?” Governor Swann was staring at Commodore James Norrington with the same steady gaze his daughter had. Norrington shook himself internally. “Of course, Governor. It will be an honor to help another colony in need. But-What about Port Royal? Might I remind you, sir, that Jack Sparrow and the Black Pearl--.” Governor Swann nodded, “No need, son. I’m sure the officers and men stationed here will provide an adequate defense, and with the Dauntless in the bay, no pirate will dare challenge us. The notorious Black Pearl is one of the problems at St. Thomas. Perhaps this will give you the chance to make an example of Jack Sparrow once and for all?” For a moment, Norrington wondered how much Swann really knew about pirates in general and that particular pirate in particular. Norrington pressed his lips into a fine line and said, “Yes, well, I suppose I must see to final details before I go. Thank you for the-‘opportunity,’ sir.” “Think nothing of it, Commodore!” Swann said expansively and turned back to the parcels and posts upon his desk. He deliberately set an ominous looking packet bearing the royal seal off to one side before turning to more pleasant-looking ones. As James Norrington made his way back to his office, he was joined by Lieutenant Gillette. “Sir, what did the Governor have to say?” Norrington shot Gillette a disgusted look. “Do you truly believe that it is your place to be asking me about my business, Lieutenant?” Gillette gulped at the realization that Norrington was in a bad mood. “No, sir, not really. My apologies. I was just curious.” Norrington shook his head and stopped, turning to face the other officer. He smiled gently. “I’m the one who owes you an apology, Matthew. The governor asked me to go to St. Thomas and provide some advice to the Danes on the small matter of pirate-extermination. I agreed to go.” “So we’ll be taking the Dauntless then!” Gillette burst out, a grin spreading across his face that reminded Norrington distressingly of a certain scalawag at the mention of his vessel. “No, Lieutenant. The Dauntless is needed to keep Port Royal safe. Therefore, you and Captain Groves will remain here to make sure that all our progress against the pirate menace isn’t swept away with the tide of local gossip. I will be booking passage aboard a merchant vessel. I hope I can rely upon you for the duration of this assignment?” “Aye, sir,” Gillette said, bowing slightly. “Any idea of how long?” “I believe the Governor intends for me to stay there long enough to allow time to plan and execute a wedding. I intend to be there only as long as necessary.” “We’ll miss you, sir,” Gillette said and glanced about to make sure no one observed. He caught Norrington’s hand up in his then kissed the knuckles lightly. Norrington smiled at him tenderly then drew his hand away, stiffened his posture, and strode off to his quarters. *** Chapter 2 - Evidence Grudgingly, Norrington had to admit that being a pirate captive, at least Jack Sparrow’s captive, was not as bad as he feared. The brig was clean, though obviously not well lighted. Food was brought at regular intervals (unlike at Port Royal’s prison where the prisoners were fed one meal of gruel and bread crusts every day—if they weren’t going to die in a few days.) The food served was of the same quality as the crew had. When he requested a blanket, one was brought to him. He spent three days in utter boredom and on the evening of the third day, the torture session came. Norrington doubted that others would consider what transpired torture, but, then again, they weren’t James Norrington. He was considering the lock, trying to figure out how he could open it, when a familiar voice spoke. “I had them locks made special. Since I do, on occasion, ‘ave troubles with bloody pirates takin’ o’er me ship, I had ‘em make a modification to the lock so I can get out o’ me own cells without a key. I’m here to spring ye on condition that ye don’t try nothin’ again. Mr. Gibbs wasn’t too impressed by yer behavior t’other night.” “It seems to me, Captain Sparrow, that ‘trying nothing’ would in all likelihood lead to less than favorable circumstances. I am but one man and your crew seems to have grown.” Sparrow grinned and twirled the key on the lanyard. “Aye, got a few more mouths to feed. But, see, Norrie, that’s the true difference ‘tween us. Ye’re a dangerous man. I’ll not be underestimatin’ ye, which is what ye do all the time, my friend. Ye underestimated me the first time ye clapped irons on me. Ye underestimated ‘Lizabeff; ye underestimated Barbossa. An’, most of all, ye underestimated William. Bad habit ye got yerself into there, love.” Norrington couldn’t help bridling a bit at the mention of Elizabeth Swann and the man who had won her heart. “What do you want, Sparrow?” Sparrow moved closer to the bars, eventually coming so close that he could have kissed Norrington through them. He fitted the key into the lock and captured Norrington’s jacket front with the other hand. “Ye really want to know what I want, Norrie?” For a moment, Norrington’s mind returned to a midnight visit to the cells at Port Royal when the hands that now controlled his freedom had controlled his passion. After a pause to steady his voice, Norrington said, “Yes.” “I want,” Sparrow paused, his eyes narrowing then a smirk brightened his face. “I want yer wig.” Without warning, he snatched the powdered wig off Norrington’s head, unlocked the door and skittered back several steps. He stopped and waited to see the Commodore’s reaction. Norrington stepped to the door, debating with himself. On one hand, his duty as an officer of the Royal Navy was to take advantage of every opportunity to escape the enemy and obey his orders. On the other hand, Jack Sparrow was absolutely right that he had badly underestimated him. There was obviously more to the pirate captain than he let on. Norrington didn’t want to be a part of one of Sparrow’s schemes but he suspected he already was. He opened the door and stepped out. “I take it that this is just the beginning of the degradation you will be putting me through?” He asked dryly. Jack grinned. “If I told ye, love, what fun would that be? C’mon, Norrie, let’s go topside. I’ll buy ye dinner.” Norrington rolled his eyes and tried to keep his mind off Jack Sparrow’s sensual swaying. “Do I need to mention that you’ve bought all my meals for the last 3 days?” “Awright,” Sparrow said, making sure he kept his distance from the officer. “Tonight, ye get t’ pay me back!” Norrington did not like the sound of that almost in the same measure that he looked forward to it. X “Rum?” Sparrow held a bottle out to Norrington. The Commodore raised his eyebrows. “Not to be impolite, _Captain_, but rum is no drink for a gentleman.” “Ah, yes,” Sparrow said and dropped into his chair. “That’s right. Last time ye got drunk on rum, ye ended up ‘dockin’’ with the enemy. How d’ye know it was the drink an’ not the company, mate?” “I know because you are a filthy, dissolute creature and, had I been sober or drunk on a gentleman’s drink, then I would have been in control of my ill-advised passions.” Norrington idly picked up a small sprig of grapes from the fruit on Sparrow’s table. He examined the stem then looked up to see Sparrow holding an apple out to him, the gesture graceful and fluid. “Apple, love?” “Forgive me, Captain, but this seems a bit too Biblical to be appropriate. While I concede that you are lawless, deceitful and wanton, you are hardly Satan.” Norrington bit his tongue and fell silent. Jack Sparrow’s ego was such that even a back-handed compliment would be enjoyed, appreciated and used in the not too distant future. “So I ain’t all bad, hmmm?” Norrington winced then looked up with a grim smile. “No, not all. I-This is difficult for me to concede but it would be much harder for me to do my job if more pirates were like you. From what I saw the other day and what I have heard previously, you are cultivating a reputation as an ‘honorable’ pirate. To me, that is a contradiction in terms bordering on an oxymoron.” Sparrow laughed. “Are ye listenin’ to yerself, lad? Ye sound like a bleedin’ scholar!! Ye’re lucky I know what an ‘oxymoron’ is or I might take insult and have to tie ye to me bunk. Oh, wait, maybe that’s what ye want me to do.” For several horrific seconds, Norrington found his mind actually picturing the image, including what the pirate might force him to do in such a position. He shuddered and pushed the thought away. When he looked up, Sparrow was gazing at him with that smoldering look that said he had read Norrington’s mind and was already making plans. “No,” The Commodore said firmly. “I don’t think so. If you don’t mind, Captain, the hour is growing late. You may be used to living a life of careless abandon but I am used to rising at the crack of dawn. Would you prefer to call one of your men to escort me back to my cell?” Jack smiled, knowingly, and stood. “Actually, Commodore, I thought ye might be more comfortable takin’ the captain’s bunk.” Norrington shook his head. “Clearly, I haven’t been direct enough with you, pirate. I refuse to bed you.” “No,” said Jack and he leaned very close to Norrington. “You mistake my meanin’. I’ve another bed fer the night. It’s I who refuse to bed you, love. Unless ye choose to sleep there, it’ll simply go wantin’ fer a body.” Norrington did his best to hide the surprise and rejection but something must have been revealed for Sparrow’s grin returned. Still taken aback, Norrington spoke. “Well, then, I guess-Very well, I will sleep there tonight. Even with a blanket, the floor of your brig is uncomfortable.” “Well then,” Sparrow said. “Yer bunk is through that door o’er there. Try not to steal me belongin’s, Commodore. I know how poorly the King pays his naval officers.” Norrington’s face went red but he refused to dignify Sparrow’s words with a verbal response. He marched through the door indicated. The captain’s cabin was small, just large enough for a narrow bunk and a desk along the adjoining bulkhead. A lantern hung from the ceiling and cast a yellowish glow about the room. The room, to his amazement, was neat, everything stowed in its appointed place. When he turned down the blanket, he could smell that the bedding had been freshly cleaned. He paused for a moment and glared at the door as if he expected the pirate to enter. Then he took the chair from the desk and wedged it under the door latch. He was about to undress when there was a knock at the door. Shoving the chair aside, he ripped open the door. “I knew it--,” He began then fell silent as the woman Sparrow had called Anamaria glared at him. “Yes?” “Captain Sparrow suggested that you might want some warm water and towels. He said I should tell you that sleeping dirty on clean sheets is very rude.” Anamaria’s scowl remained in place the entire time she spoke but there was a glint of amusement in her eyes. “Tell the Captain,” Norrington began then paused. “Give the Captain my thanks. Yes, I would appreciate them.” She nodded and soon two men with a tub of warm water appeared. A boy of about 18 appeared a few minutes later with towels and soap. The boy hung a sheet from the ceiling of the wardroom to surround the tub then left Norrington in peace. Norrington peeled off the uniform he’d worn for over 3 days with gratitude and quickly cleaned himself up. As he stepped out of the tub and began to dry himself off, he realized that someone had put his luggage from the Sparrow in the cabin. He pulled out a clean shirt to wear for the night then climbed gratefully into the bed. This was all an attempt by Sparrow to seduce him somehow. He knew that and he was determined not to fall for it. The only problem was that the pillow he lay on had the most heavenly scent of rum on it and the room itself wore a slight bouquet of lavender—both of which made James Norrington dream that night of a certain pirate with wicked black eyes. That was over a week ago. The Commodore now sat at the table of Captain O’Hanlon sharing polite small talk with a matron whose 17-year-old charge was staring at Norrington disconcertingly. The girl was dressed in the latest fashion but she was plain with slightly crossed eyes. She also had a bothersome habit of giggling whenever Norrington spoke to her. He was about to reply to a question of the older woman’s about his marital status when one of the sailors burst in and bobbed down beside the Captain to whisper in his ear. Norrington heard the word “pirates” and felt a slight thrill. Time to fight and show these people how to handle these dastardly cowards. The Captain replied in an urgent whisper to the sailor then rose. “My apologies, ladies and gentlemen. Um, Commodore, could I have a word with you up on deck?” Norrington nodded and stood. “Your pardon, m’ladies.” He followed O’Hanlon onto the deck of the Sparrow, a name he had found distasteful though the irony was not lost upon him. O’Hanlon turned to him. “Commodore, I understand that you do things differently where you come from. I’ve made a decision, though, and I hope you can support me in it.” “Captain?” Instead of speaking, O’Hanlon cast his glance up the rigging to where a white flag of surrender flapped weakly in the breeze. Commodore Norrington glared at him. “Do you really think that wise, Captain?” O’Hanlon sighed, “I do, sir. I’ve lost some cargo this way but my crew and passengers have stayed safe. I’m not a military man, sir, I’m just a sailor. I would seriously suggest that you retreat to your rooms until this is all over. I don’t know how these pirates will react to a naval officer. I’d hate for your guts to be the first spilled on Sparrow’s deck.” Norrington replied with a hint of restrained fury. “I respect your decision, Captain, in that it was made with the safety of your human cargo in mind. I must refuse, however, to retreat. I will accept in whatever measure I must that which is to come. I--.” Norrington turned and caught sight of the ship that was approaching. Against the sunlight, everything about her appeared black, only the red flag with the bird over the sunset sigil stood out. Norrington gritted his teeth and wished desperately he had the Dauntless. The Black Pearl was about to take the Sparrow captive. The word ‘irony’ was simply not large enough for what was about to happen. The Captain called for his men to take in sail and drop anchor. He reminded them that they were flying a flag of truce and that they were only to take action if a threat to life or limb was made. The dinner guests he had at his table drifted out on their own after a few minutes. “Pirates! Oh, how dreadful,” The older woman said. “I thought the Royal Navy had all but eliminated the pirate menace, Commodore?” Norrington shot her a glance. “We can only do so much, madame. Between the privateers and the pirates, we do tend to have our hands full. Then, of course, there is also the threat from legitimate naval opponents like the Spanish or the French. Mark my words, in a few years, piracy will die a violent death, just like the pirates who perpetuate it." The girl giggled and Norrington gritted his teeth as he turned away. He watched as the pirates tossed grappling hooks into the rigging and over the rails of the Sparrow. The boarding lines were soon secured and the crew of the Pearl began to come aboard. Jack Sparrow’s band of miscreants had increased considerably in number since the last time he had seen them. To his amazement, the men who boarded the ship began to search it immediately but made no effort to take anything. Occasionally, there was a scuffle between pirate and marine or passenger but the pirates showed extraordinary self-control and the fights ended when the passenger or sailor was skillfully disarmed or rendered harmless. It was only then that the familiar figure appeared on the rail of the Black Pearl. His dark eyes swept across the crowd of people on the Sparrow’s deck. The predatory grin on his face turned lustful when he spotted Norrington though he didn’t acknowledge the Commodore in any other way. He stepped easily from the Pearl to the rail of the Sparrow where he paused dramatically. Norrington sighed and admitted to himself that Captain Sparrow knew how to make an entrance. “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen,” He called and Norrington found himself shivering slightly at the sound of his voice. “I am Captain Jack Sparrow and you have been captured by the Black Pearl. I know your time is dear to you so I shall be frank. You have two kinds o’ treasure. That which is dear to yer heart and that which is dear to yer purse. If ye’re honest an’ open an’ share wi’ us that which is dear t’ yer purse only, we’ll be settin’ ye back on yer course to St. Thomas still a-holdin’ that which is dear t’ yer heart, savvy?” There was some muttering but Captain O’Hanlon spoke up. “Why should we trust you, pirate?” Sparrow stepped down off the rail and approached with the same swagger he’d had in Port Royal. There it had looked almost comical. Here, however, it made him appear alarmingly attractive and dangerous. He soon stood within inches of the captain, his dark eyes slitted as they stared up at him. “I _told_ you. I’m Captain Jack Sparrow of the Black Pearl. That’s all you need to know, mate, savvy?” He turned to a large man with long blond hair. “Olsen, escort the captain here down to the hold to get his opinion on what we should take. Mr. Carstairs, round up all the sailors and keep them safe at the far end of the bow. Brakes, let’s start with these fine passengers here.” He glanced at Norrington and smiled slyly. “Aren’t you a bit far from home, Commodore?” “It’s none of your concern, pirate. I trust that the next time we meet, you will not be so smug.” Sparrow chuckled then turned to the older woman. “That’s quite the ring ye have there, love. Hand it o’er.” The woman looked shocked. “Why, I cannot! This ring-It’s very special to me. It never leaves my finger!” Jack’s eyebrows raised and he turned to the short, fat man he had called Brakes. “Too bad. Brakes, take the finger off too.” At that, the woman squawked loudly but within a few seconds, she handed the ring over to Jack, who grinned politely and turned to the girl. Jack looked her over then reached out to hook a finger into the gold chain of a locket she wore. “Nice bauble that, m’ love. Where’d ye get it?” The girl raised her head and spoke, her voice unsteady. “It was a gift from my father before he died. It holds the picture of my mother he always carried, and a lock of my hair. I-I . . .” Sparrow smiled and bowed to her, gently allowing the gold to drift from his fingers. He took her hand and kissed the back of it. “It’s naught of my concern then, m’lady. I hope you enjoy the rest of the journey.” Norrington found he was shaking his head in amazement. Sparrow moved on down the line of waiting victims, wallets, watches and other valuables piling up in the sack that Brakes carried. By the time Sparrow finished, his men were busy loading their booty onto the Black Pearl. As the men drifted slowly back to the Pearl, Jack made his way back to the Commodore. The Captain had rejoined them. He met Norrington’s eyes apologetically but swept his gaze around the deck as if to demonstrate that he had been right. Norrington hated to tell him but the Sparrow was tremendously lucky to have been caught by Captain Sparrow. Any other pirate would have robbed them blind, laid waste to the crew, raped the women, and either seized or destroyed the ship. “Ladies and gentlemen, it has been a pleasure to meet you all,” Jack was announcing as he stood by the rail of the ship. “Perhaps, one day, I’ll have the pleasure of yer company again. Meantime, I thank ye fer yer contributions to our cause. Before I go, however, there is one last thing I must do.” Sparrow pulled out his pistol and the passengers gasped. Within a few paces, he was standing before Norrington. “Commodore, if ye’d be so kind as to accompany me. It’s time I returned the favor of yer hospitality, savvy?” Norrington shook his head. “No, pirate, I don’t think so.” Sparrow grinned and grabbed the girl, placing the pistol to her temple. “Commodore? The Pearl awaits. Now.” James glanced from the pirate to the Captain, sighed heavily, then walked toward the rail of the Sparrow. The pirate continued to drag the girl with him behind the Commodore. He could hear Sparrow whispering something in the girl’s ear and wondered what filth he was inflicting upon such an innocent. As Norrington boarded the Pearl, the final boarding line between the two ships was removed and they began to drift apart. Sparrow released the girl and placed something in her hand before seizing a rope and swinging across to his ship. He landed with a flourish and waved at the Sparrow. “Ta, me lovely!” As soon as they were moving away, Norrington confronted the pirate. “How dare you do this! And what did you do to that girl?” Captain Sparrow brushed past Norrington and headed for the helm. Norrington followed. “Well, Sparrow?” Jack rounded on him. “You seem to ferget yer place, Norrie. This ain’t no ship o’ the fleet. It’s MY ship and I’ll bloody well do whate’er I want aboard ‘er. ‘Sides, what happened between me and the little lassie is our business.” “Jack! You soft-headed fool, what did you do that for?” The lovely black woman who sat amidst the sacks of loot was giving him a dirty glare. Sparrow squinted his eyes shut in a slightly pained expression then turned with a forced smile to face her. “What, Anamaria, my love? What did _I_ do _this_ time?” “Where’s the ring?” “Ring? What ring?” Sparrow went to the wheel, pretending innocence. “It’s not fair, Jack, I wanted to give that to Mariana!” Anamaria said and pushed into Jack’s space. “You owe me--.” Jack turned to regard her with an expression that she recognized immediately. “I owe you a ship. You have no quarrel there. But you and I both know the rules. Loot is divided at the end o’ the run. A ring like that was bound to cause troubles. I gave it to the girl. I told her to hide it and sell it to get away from the ol’ shrew she was with. ‘Asides, Mariana only has one hand, love. It jus’ wouldn’t work fer her.” Anamaria made a soft growling noise in the back of her throat but turned away without another word. She went off to her own duties. After a few minutes, Norrington spoke up. “What do you intend to do with me, _Captain_?” Sparrow glanced over at him, a lusty smile spread across his face. “That depends, Norrie. What do you _want_ me to do with you?” “Return me to the Sparrow immediately. Failing that, you will take me to St. Thomas so I may resume my duties.” The pirate chuckled softly. “You’ve nearly stretched me neck twice, Norrie, not t’ mention had yer way wiff me once. It’s bad enough you bein’ at Port Royal; I shudder to think what’ll happen to me livelihood if ye spread the word about how to catch an’ kill good, dishonest pirates. Nah, I think I’ll be keepin’ ye fer a few days.” “This is preposterous!” Norrington straightened to his full height and shoved Jack backwards. “You will NOT keep me as a-an amusement--.” Without warning, men had seized Norrington’s arms and were pulling him bodily away from Jack, who smiled tantalizingly. “I’d not be tryin’ that again, mate.” Norrington turned at the familiar voice and saw Joshamee Gibbs. “Mr. Gibbs? Don’t tell me you-When?” “A long time ago, Commodore. Fer yer safety, sir, I’d refrain from threatenin’ the Captain. The men on this ship owe him a lot.” Gibbs turned to Sparrow. “Yer orders, sir?” Jack sighed, staring at the Commodore with a slight smirk on his face. “Put him in the brig. I think he needs some time to cool ‘is heels.” *** Chapter 3 - Hypothesis It was very dark when Norrington woke. Not yet dawn but the moon had gone down. He lay in the narrow bunk, momentarily disoriented. There had been so many nights when he had come awake in similar circumstances but was able to easily slip back into the arms of Morpheus. This time, however, what disturbed him was an unfamiliar sound. He sat up carefully and cocked his head to one side. The sound was coming from outside his cabin. Standing, he started to make his way out of the cabin and ran into the lantern. Biting back a curse, he detoured around it and found the door. Pulling it open, he stepped out into the wardroom. In the dim light of a single candle, he could see a hammock had been strung on the opposite side of the room. As he approached, he realized that the one who occupied the hammock was making soft whimpering sounds as he slept. He drew closer and realized it was Sparrow. He wanted to return immediately to his bed but something rooted him to the spot. Sparrow’s face in the dim light was agonized, the small sounds somehow more touching because of the expression. Almost against his own will, he let his hand reach out and stroke the black hair spread across the cords of the hammock. It was softer than he had ever dared imagine, the braids like fine silk. Without the scarf, Sparrow looked more human, Norrington decided. He started to brush the hair back off the pirate’s forehead when Sparrow abruptly sucked in air, seized his wrist and sat up. “NO!” The pirate’s eyes were wild and he gasped for air. He released Norrington as if he were being burnt by the Commodore’s flesh. “What-What d’ ye think ye’re doin’?” Norrington was at a loss for words. The truth was, he hadn’t a clue what he was doing. He’d thought to offer comfort to someone he cared about and the realization frightened him. “I-must apologize. I heard-You were in some distress and I--.” “Ye thought ye’d sneak up and what? Stick a knife in me? Shoot me?” Norrington stepped back. “No, absolutely not. That would be deceitful. I _am_ an honorable man, Captain.” Jack lolled his head back in exasperation then looked back at Norrington. “Can ye not call me Jack? Fer Christ’s sake, man, ye made _love_ t’ me jus’ a few weeks ago an’ ye’re sleepin’ in me bed. An’, apparently, ye thought t’ soothe me outta a nightmare. Seems t’ me ye’d be entitled, Norrie.” Norrington sighed heavily. “On one condition.” “I ain’t takin’ ye back to St. Thomas,” Jack narrowed his eyes and spoke warningly. “As fulfilling as that sounds, no, that’s not the condition,” Norrington said after a moment. “I will call you Jack on the condition that you-you call me James.” “Not Norrie?” Norrington suppressed a smile as he shook his head. “Not Norrie. James. Or, perhaps, Jamie, if you really must.” Sparrow grinned and suddenly stuck out his right hand. “We have an accord.” Norrington took his hand then was yanked forward to have his lips covered by Sparrow’s. The pressure and heat stole his breath away as the pirate’s free hand seized the hair at the nape of his neck. When he released him a moment later, he smiled calculatingly. “Go back to bed, Jamie. I need me beauty sleep fer tomorrow. I got plans, ye know.” Norrington inhaled and ran his tongue across his lips to more thoroughly taste Sparrow’s rum and sea-spray flavored mouth. He looked back at the pirate to see that he had rolled himself into the blanket with his back toward the Commodore. As Norrington returned to the captain’s bunk, he wondered if he could stand to go back to Port Royal. *** Norrington did not rise with the dawn the next morning. Something about the bunk he lay on was so comfortable that he couldn’t awaken. When he did open his eyes, Jack Sparrow sat in the chair by the desk, his feet propped up, reading. For several minutes Norrington thought that he had to be imagining things. Yet Sparrow was so unlike any other pirate he had ever met, he knew it had to be true. When Norrington sat up, Sparrow closed the book with a snap and tossed it casually onto the desk. “It’s about time!” he grinned. “We’ll be arrivin’ in Trinidad in an hour or two, if the weather holds. In the meantime, I have some questions fer ye, love.” Norrington settled himself against the wall and turned a disinterested gaze on the pirate. “You do realize that as an officer of His Majesty’s Royal Navy, I will not respond.” Jack shook his head. “Nah, not questions about yer navy. Hell, I know ye have 33 ships o’ the line in the Caribbean. Fifteen warships wi’ the Dauntless bein’ the flagship sittin’ in Port Royal’s harbor. Eight frigates scattered o’er the area from Virginia to Cuba to be lookin’ fer Spanish privateers. An’ the rest be older ships servin’ primarily in the area o’ Kingstown to Bridgetown. Any pirate worth his rum knows all that, lad. No, my questions are of a more . . . personal nature.” Barely able to believe the accuracy of what Sparrow had told him regarding the Royal Navy in the Caribbean, Norrington swallowed hard at the last two words. “I’m not certain what you mean.” The pirate sat up, his dark eyes met Norrington’s blue ones steadily. “How’s ‘Lizabeff?” For several seconds Norrington studied that infuriatingly handsome face. “Don’t you mean ‘how’s William?’” “No,” Sparrow said. “I mean, how is ‘Lizabeff?” Norrington shrugged and threw his hands into the air. “The last I spoke to her she was making plans for her wedding. She wanted to marry Mr. Turner right away but her father felt they should wait a few months, have a proper courtship and all that, then a big wedding. She was quite upset but she does like to please her father.” Jack chuckled slightly. “She nearly married you t’ please ‘im. Wouldn’t that ha’ made ye happy?” Norrington looked down at his hands, comparing them to the pirate’s. “At this point, I’m not certain. I don’t know that I am supposed to be happy.” “’Course ye are,” Jack said, suddenly sober. “Ye deserve to be happy, lad. Ye do yer job the best ye can, ye love those around ye with all yer heart, and ye serve others instead o’ yerself. Why should ye not be happy?” Norrington shook his head. This whole discussion was ludicrous, especially in light of the fact that he was talking about his personal happiness with the pirate most responsible for his current unhappiness. It didn’t help matters any that Sparrow was remarkably attractive. “How’s dear William?” Sparrow’s voice had the faintest trace of vibrato when he said the name and Norrington looked up. There was a haunted look in the dark eyes. Norrington suddenly wanted to turn this ship for Port Royal, kidnap the blacksmith and send him off to be with the pirate just so he didn’t have to ever see that look in those eyes again. Norrington knew that, if he was unhappy, Sparrow was absolutely miserable. “I haven’t spoken to him since-well, since the day you escaped. From what I have heard through Elizabeth, he’s been doing a brisk business in selling the swords he makes. I believe he and his master are in negotiations in regard to a partnership arrangement. Probably Mr. Brown will get the better end of that bargain but Mr. Turner will still be able to do well enough to support his new bride.” Norrington deliberately kept his voice dispassionate. He watched the effect the words had on the Pearl’s captain. If he hadn’t known better, he would have sworn he’d struck him with a fist, not the spoken word. “Good, good,” Sparrow replied, though his heart was somewhere else. Abruptly, as if just realizing that Norrington was watching him, Sparrow stood. “I know ye have yer fancy uniform clothes with ye, James, but I think it’d be ill-advised fer ye to wear a navy uniform when ye come ashore wi’ me today. The places we’ll be goin’ are not exactly friendly-like to those in the service, savvy?” Norrington nodded once. “I see. I have no other clothing with me, Jack. I know you have motive for seeing me—unclothed—but I doubt that other pirates would find it so entertaining.” Jack grinned and took a moment out to imagine parading James Norrington naked through the streets of Trinidad. It was a nice visual but he could see the problems that could arise. Instead, he winked at the Commodore. “Ah, no, love, much as I’d like t’ see that, I think it’ll be best if ye wear the clothes I laid out fer ye on the bed there. Oh, an’ try t’ slouch a bit, hmmm? I ain’t never met a pirate with a yardarm up ‘is ass like ye got.” Jack started to turn away but Norrington spoke. “Jack?” He swung back to look at the Commodore. The officer gave him a grim smile then said, “Fuck you.” Jack’s eyes widened and a grin lit his face. “Commodore!” Norrington, realizing what he’d just said, leaned back. “Um, well, no.” Abruptly, Sparrow was atop him in the narrow bunk, the pirate’s mouth hard against his. Norrington pushed feebly at the pirate whose tongue was now sweeping along his. When the Commodore tried to draw a breath, Sparrow would touch him somewhere significant, nipple, abdomen, crotch, then resume the pressure of his mouth on Norrington’s. Finally, close to passing out, Norrington managed to push him away. “Jack, I--.” Sparrow put a finger across his mouth. “Thanks fer the invitation, love, but no, I’m not interested right now.” And with those words, the pirate swept from the room. Norrington realized with a jolt that he’d been rejected again. It took all his self-restraint to keep from punching a hole in the bulkhead. He stood and threw the clothes provided for him on. To his alarm, he realized his boots were missing. He growled in irritation. So Sparrow wanted him to act more pirate-like. Against the advice of his better nature, James Norrington decided to show Jack Sparrow that he could, if necessary, out-pirate even him. *** Chapter 4 - Amendment “We should be back by nightfall,” Sparrow muttered to Anamaria as he waited for Norrington to come up on deck. “If we ain’t, send Gibbs an’ a few crewmen to look fer us. Heaven only knows what Norr—What the hell?” He looked up as someone wolf-whistled. Standing, or rather, slouching at the door to the wardroom was a tall, dark-haired, blue-eyed pirate. For a minute, Jack was unsure if he wanted to laugh or to grab Norrington and take him right there. He’d put on the tattered but serviceable trousers and shirt that Jack had borrowed for him but his feet were, of necessity, bare. Then he’d added a few touches of his own. Jack recognized the blue scarf he wore as one of his own. The silk brought out Norrington’s eyes and Jack licked his lips in anticipation. The Commodore had applied kohl to his eyelids and Sparrow wondered if he was simply copying him or attempting to parody. Either way, he had to admit he liked the look. He’d found an old sword-belt somewhere and an equally old cutlass so he was armed in some measure. Sparrow watched James battle with himself. He drew a deep breath and released it, squared his shoulders then reminded himself to slouch, before attempting to cross the deck to join Sparrow at the foot of the ladder running up to the helm. Jack bit his cheek when he heard one of his men make smooching sounds at the sway of the officer’s hips. He looked around before speaking. “Enough! I’ll not have ye ridiculin’ our guest,” He added sotto voce, “That’s up to me to do.” Norrington stopped before Sparrow. “I’ve done what you asked, _Captain_. Now what?” Jack glanced about at his crew. “What say you, lads? Is he a proper pirate?” “No!” Came back a chorus of voices. Norrington flinched slightly at the sound and Jack could see the tiniest bit of fear behind his determination. “They’re right, ye know,” Jack said and stepped closer to Norrington. “There’s a couple adjustments that need to be made.” James glared at the pirate. “Don’t you dare--.” Jack grinned and reached a hand out to begin unlacing the shirt that the Commodore had so carefully laced to his collarbone. As his hand moved lower, he began to let his fingers gently stroke the hair on Norrington’s chest on each return trip. James gulped hard though he met the pirate’s gaze steadfastly. Jack trailed his hand up the bare chest, grinned, then turned away. “Awright, ye pack o’ mangy hounds, which one whistled at me new pirate?” Reluctantly, a hand went up. Jack glared at him. “Give ‘im yer boots! He’s goin’ t’ shore and needs proper footgear. An’ ye’ll be spendin’ the evening in the nest to contemplate proper treatment of future guests o’ the Pearl, savvy?” Shanks nodded and pulled his boots off, tossing them to land at Norrington’s feet. Norrington looked up at Jack, appalled. “Wear those? I’d rather die.” James didn’t count on Sparrow’s reaction which was to pull out his pistol and point it at his head. “Right then, mate, have it yer way. It seems a shame t’ blow off such a pretty face so I’ll gives ye a choice. Die quick and ugly or die slow and pretty, savvy?” Norrington stared at the pirate captain. What was he thinking? How could he have been foolish enough to trust a pirate, let alone _this_ pirate? _But,_ he said to himself, _if he backed down, he’d show himself to be under my influence in some fashion and, thus, weak. That could lead to a lapse in discipline._ If there was one thing Norrington understood, it was the necessity of discipline aboard ship. If the crew turned on Sparrow, they would have no qualms about killing or otherwise disposing of the only Royal Navy officer on board. He slowly dropped his gaze to the deck. “I-I’m sorry, sir. I’ll wear them. Don’t shoot.” Sparrow sighed and grinned. “Good lad! Join me ashore when ye’re fully shod.” The gun was returned to the pocket of Sparrow’s greatcoat and he swept off the deck, taking Olsen and another man with him with the wave of his hand. Hoping he wouldn’t acquire any disgusting disease, Norrington wedged the boots onto his feet—they were just a bit large for him—and followed the pirate captain to the dock at Port-of-Spain. Trinidad was to be his first adventure as a pirate; Norrington only hoped it was also to be his last. *** Norrington had to admit there was something exciting about walking down the grimy dirt road through the center of Port-of-Spain and having everyone move out of the way. Jack was cordial, charming but the sight of 3 large ruffians behind him was intimidating. Norrington acknowledged that his own appearance was more disturbing as a pirate than it ever was as a naval officer. Of course, that could just have been the boots. Sparrow turned into a tavern called Los Tres Equis. He shot looks at the two other pirates then drew Norrington to his side with a hand on his elbow. The other two stepped into the darkness and disappeared. “Listen, love,” Jack said softly. “Stick close t’ me and keep yer mouth shut. While this ain’t the roughest place here, it’s considerable rougher than most places in Port Royal.” Norrington glared down at Sparrow. “I’m not an innocent, Captain. I have been in taverns with ‘rough’ clientele before.” Jack grinned. “Ye just cannot help yerself, can ye? Listen, James, I know I’m dishonest an’ I’m a pirate not t’ mention ye’re my pris’ner but I ask you, on yer boots and wig, please don’t do anything stupid. Keep yer mouth shut and stick close, savvy?” Norrington’s mouth twitched then he said, “Aye, sir.” “There’s a good pirate. By the way, thank ye fer backin’ down aboard the Pearl. I really hate gettin’ blood on her deck!” Sparrow winked at him then sauntered into the tavern himself, Norrington on his heels. Norrington had to remind himself to slouch again as they started winding their way amid the tables and bodies occupying the place. A barely discernible nod to Jack had him taking a seat at a table and beginning to speak with a one-eyed man, who offered him the bottle of rum on the table. Jack took several swallows then noticed Norrington. There were only the two chairs so Norrington stood nearby. Abruptly, he felt Sparrow grab him by the hip and pull him down to sit on his knee. Jack said something obviously off-color, slapped him on the rear and the other man laughed lewdly. Norrington turned to look at Jack who gave him a “smile or I’ll shoot you” look. So he smiled. Jack was conversing with the man in a patois of French, Spanish and something Germanic, possibly Dutch. It was no surprise to Norrington that Sparrow would have more than a passing knowledge of French and Spanish. Dutch was a bit surprising. The hand delicately tracing across his rear was practically expected. Norrington flashed a nasty smile at Sparrow then let his elbow slam against the pirate’s ribs. Jack grunted but moved his hand. He glanced up at Norrington and the expression in his eyes told James that he was going to regret that. “Het is een overeenkomst dan,” (Trans: It's a deal then.) He heard Jack say then the pirate stood up. Norrington would have gone into the floor if it hadn’t been for the pirate seizing him by the waist. Sparrow pulled Norrington against him hard and said, “Not nice, love, not a’tall. Ye’re givin’ me ideas, whelp, and I wager ye’ll be sorry fer that before it’s all done.” Norrington let his face become a mask of calm though he was seriously alarmed by the pirate captain’s words. He kept his voice steady as he replied in a hiss, “Maybe you’ll be the sorry one, Jack.” Jack grinned. “Oooh, spirit! An’ here I thought you were gonna be a good boy. C’mon, mate. We’ve got another stop.” They left the tavern but the other two pirates did not join them. Norrington didn’t recall seeing Jack give them a sign or speaking to either so he expected they would be joining them eventually. They didn’t walk far before Jack was dragging him into another tavern. Jack turned to him and flashed a bright smile. “One o’ me favorite establishments here. The company’s lovely, the rum’s more liquor than water, an’ the fightin’ is as dirty as it gets. I let ye get away without samplin’ the rum at Los Equis ‘cause it’s lousy but I’ll not tolerate such unsociable behavior here. Asides, I mean to introduce you to Jeannette. I think ye’ll find her company quite enjoyable, love.” As they stepped into the tavern, Jack seized his wrist. “I don’t want ye runnin’ away, love. First, we need some rum.” “Jacque!” Squealed a voice before they could get more than six feet from the door. A radiant young woman in a red silk dress was suddenly in the pirate’s arms, peppering his face with kisses. “Où avez-vous été, mon doux? Je vous ai manqué si beaucoup!” (Trans: Where have you been, my sweet? I have missed you so much!) “Ah, lovely Jeannette! J'ai été à l'enfer et au dos, mon amour, et vous étiez toujours sur mon esprit.” (Trans: I've been to hell and back, my love, and you were constantly on my mind.) He rolled his eyes and leered at Norrington over the woman’s shoulder. It was clear to Norrington that Sparrow’s greeting had some truth to it. Jeannette pressed her lips to Jack’s with a passionate intensity that left James feeling oddly jealous. The entire time Sparrow embraced the girl, he kept his hand clamped about Norrington’s wrist. When Jack resumed heading for the bar, he released Norrington’s wrist and took his hand instead. James was towed along with only the slightest bit of resistance. He didn’t hear what Jack muttered to the barkeep but he suspected it had something to do with rum and lots of it. Jack dragged Norrington and Jeannette to a table in the corner where one of the serving girls was setting down a bottle of rum and 3 cups. Jack took the cornermost seat and Jeannette made herself comfortable on his lap. Jack whispered something in her ear and she poured rum in all 3 cups, then delivered the bottle into Jack’s hand. “Merci,” He muttered then tilted his head to look around her at Norrington. “Yer orders, Jamie, are to drink all 3 of those cups of rum down. Once ye’re suitably inebriated, maybe I’ll consider givin’ ye some ovver form of entertainment.” James sighed and watched Sparrow gulp down several swallows of the rum. He sighed then began to kiss Jeannette with a passion similar to that which she had exhibited earlier. Figuring that the rum couldn’t be all that powerful if Sparrow was drinking it like water, Norrington poured the first one down without bothering to taste it. The burning hit him as he placed the empty cup on the table. Trying to draw a breath, he choked then began to cough. Tears welled in his eyes and he had to swallow several times to be able to catch his breath. He looked up at Sparrow who was grinning fondly at him. He handed the bottle back to Jeannette and whispered something to her. She filled the cup James had just emptied then gave Sparrow the bottle back. “Just 3 cups, love, that’s all.” Norrington’s eyes widened in something like despair. He picked up the second cup of rum and, with a whimper, began to sip at it. There was a sigh from the pirate opposite him and the bottle, now empty, was set on the table as a second was delivered. Jack took a long drink from that one and said, “Jamie, ye’re fallin’ behind. And I promise ye, mate, ye don’t want t’ miss out on the next bit o’ entertainment.” *** Chapter 5 - Argument His head ached and it was very difficult to think when he became aware next. Worse, he realized he needed to relieve himself but the thought of opening his eyes was too much to bear. His arms felt strange and it was the realization that they were tied above him that made him risk opening one eye a bare minimum. The room was dark but not so dark that he couldn’t make out black hair and a red scarf nestled on his shoulder. _Not again_, He whined softly. _He’s a PIRATE, for God’s sake._ Then, further down, he felt the light pressure of a soft mouth on his lower belly, dark brown hair fanning across his torso. An uncomfortable sensation of soreness in the midst of his rump made him draw a strangled breath. Sparrow had gotten him drunk, tied him up then had his way with him! Rage burnt the headache off. “Wake up, you deviant!” He snarled, beginning to pull at the ropes. “How dare you—molest me! I-I thought you were an honorable--.” Sparrow opened his eyes and grinned up at him. “Ah, love, ye do like jumpin’ to yer conclusions, don’t ye? ‘Twasn’t me, love, more’s the pity.” “What? Who?” Jack didn’t answer just lowered his hand to stroke the long dark hair of the whore that lay between Norrington’s legs. She responded by muttering something softly in French then rubbing the stubble of her-his beard across Norrington’s belly. Sparrow glanced up at Norrington with an almost-apologetic look on his face. “Sorry, I din’t think t’ tell ye earlier, love. Jeannette was Jean-Pierre when I found him a few years back. Sweet little lad who kept gettin’ the crap beat outta him. He makes a comely lass, don’t he?” “You perverted him!” Norrington was fighting to stay coherent against the rising lust that the prostitute’s warm breath inspired. “Maybe,” Jack said with a shrug. “But nobody’s beatin’ on him anymore. I didn’t do anythin’ to him asides give him some swag. Ye probably don’t b’lieve that an’ that’s yer choice, lad.” “Release me,” Norrington demanded. Jack slowly sat up and Norrington realized he still wore his trousers. The pirate rose and retrieved his sword then returned. He rubbed a hand across Jeannette’s back and she woke. At first she smiled coyly up at the Commodore then Sparrow said something to her softly. Her face saddened and she pulled the sheet around her as she rose and moved behind Jack. “All right, boy, I’ll release ye from the ropes but I remind ye that it’s a long swim to Port Royal. Ye may be angry wi’ me but I won’t tolerate ye hurtin’ Jeannette, savvy?” Norrington nodded. “I understand.” Sparrow tugged at the appropriate rope and the knot dissolved. Norrington, freed from the binding, rubbed his wrists and sat up. For a moment, he wasn’t sure what to do. Finally, he began to dress. He heard the pirate muttering to the whore on the other side of the room. Jeannette, or Jean-Pierre, Norrington wasn’t sure which made more sense or was more comfortable to him at the moment, was struggling to smile and be brave. The sight made Norrington’s chest ache in a most unusual way. Jack Sparrow had turned this boy into some sort of freakish whore yet the boy was utterly devoted to him. Norrington stood suddenly then nearly had to sit back down when his head spun at the abrupt movement. The pirate’s strong hand took his elbow to steady him. “Easy, lad. Ye had a lot o’ rum fer one who ain’t used t’ the stuff.” “Sparrow, how in the bloody hell can you be a pirate when you run around the world being generous, noble and an all-around—I hate to say this—good man?” Norrington grumbled. “I know several noblemen that could learn a lesson in decency from you. Damnation, I cannot believe I just said that!” Jack didn’t smile, just kept himself between the Commodore and Jeannette though he had lowered the cutlass. He spoke after a moment. “It’s time we returned to the Pearl. Finish dressing, Commodore. Attends, Jeannette.” Norrington realized at that moment that Sparrow was not happy with him. He did as he was told and within a few minutes, Sparrow had returned to the room alone. He was fully dressed and obviously waiting for the Commodore. When Norrington saw the look in his eyes, he started to apologize then closed his mouth. He tied the scarf around his head then indicated to Sparrow that he was ready to leave. The Captain nodded and opened the door. They stepped onto the dawn-blessed street and started walking back toward the dock. James kept giving Sparrow sidelong glances, wanting the pirate to speak to him or something. Instead, the pirate held his tongue, a grim look on his face. They climbed the Jacob’s ladder to the deck of the Pearl and Jack finally turned to him. “I suggest you go below, Commodore, and get some sleep. We’ll be leaving later.” Then Jack turned his back on Norrington and headed for the bow. James did as he was told but sleep was impossible. His mind kept returning to the look on Jeannette’s face when Jack greeted her and the deep disappointment on her face when Jack escorted her from the room. He’d finally drifted off fitfully when there was a soft knock at the door. He woke feeling confused, the headache having returned. “Come in.” “Cap’n Jack thought ye might like some lunch, sir,” The boy who had helped prepare his bath said as he stepped in with a tray of food. “Would you?” Norrington nodded carefully and sat up. By the sounds coming from above, they had set sail. He hoped it was for Port Royal but he suspected it wasn’t. The boy set down the tray then cocked his head. “Is there anythin’ else, sir?” The Commodore hesitated but finally spoke. “If you don’t mind. I have some questions regarding Captain Sparrow. Would you have a seat?” The boy nodded and perched on the chair by the desk. He was a handsome boy with dark blond hair and periwinkle blue eyes. For a moment, Norrington could almost see Gillette or Groves in the boy’s expression. “My apologies, son, for my boldness but I need to know. Has Captain Sparrow ‘laid hands’ upon you?” He asked, a slight flush to his face. The boy gave him a grim look. “No, sir, an’ it’s not fer lack o’ tryin’ on my part. He’s very kind about it but he keeps sayin’ no. It’s rather frustratin’, sir, if ye don’t mind my sayin’.” That took Norrington aback. The boy wanted Sparrow to bed him but the pirate refused? He let the boy go then and struggled to eat some of the cheese and fruit that was on his table. He didn’t want to admit that he was disappointed that Captain Jack Sparrow had refused him as well yet again. *** They were traveling gradually northwest. It cheered Norrington’s heart a bit that they were moving _towards_ Port Royal but that was no guarantee they’d be stopping. Norrington spent part of the day in the cabin but he grew bored quickly. The book that Sparrow had been reading, to his amazement, was Plato’s Republic, a book that he had struggled through and was glad to be quit of. Ultimately, Norrington found his way on deck. Sparrow stood at the wheel, his head off to one side as he seemed to be listening to something. Norrington started deliberately for the stairs but Anamaria was suddenly before him. “You don’t want to do that.” “Explain to me why not.” She sighed. “Because Jack is armed. He told me what happened. You’re pretty much a fool, aren’t you?” “I believe I have a right to feel-feel violated, at least in some measure. He-They tied me up!” He paused, realizing that he was telling this to someone who was, for all intents and purposes, a complete stranger. Anamaria moved closer so that he could see almost nothing but her eyes. “Listen to me. I am the one person in the world who will be the first to admit that Jack Sparrow is vain, arrogant, mad and a drunkard. But he is most decidedly not one to tie somebody up to fuck them. He doesn’t have to. I suggest you wait until Jack has calmed down some then _ask_ him what happened.” “I don’t understand. Why is he so angry?” Norrington didn’t want to let go of his moral outrage but he sensed it was a losing battle. “I didn’t do anything!” There was a loud growling sound and Anamaria glanced back at Jack. He was glowering at them, his hand fumbling for a pocket. She grabbed Norrington by the front of the shirt and moved him out of Jack’s line of sight. “Look, maybe you don’t understand. Jeannette is special to Jack.” “I have no doubt but--.” Norrington was interrupted by Gibbs. “I think, Commodore, that it’s time ye offered up some praises to th’ Lord, an’ we got a prayer-book with yer name on it. Come on, boy.” He heard Anamaria mutter something French under her breath as Gibbs dragged him to the bow and handed him the rectangular stone to use to scrub the deck. “Git to it, lad.” For a moment, Norrington thought about refusing. He had no reason to want to do menial work again. He’d served as a midshipman once and it was tedious enough the first time. Something, though, told him that Sparrow might be more inclined to speak to him if he demonstrated some cooperation. Gibbs scattered some sand on the deck and, with a grumble, Norrington went to work. It seemed odd to Norrington that he had forgotten how soothing it was to do repetitive physical work. He lost track of time and only stopped when a pair of boots stood in his way. He looked up and saw Jack glaring down at him. A pistol was pointed at him. “Get on yer feet, ye villain. We need t’ discuss somethin’,” The pirate said quietly. Norrington did as he was ordered. Sparrow kept the gun on him until they were in the wardroom. Once there, Sparrow kicked a chair back. “Sit, man. And keep yer silence, I’m not in th’ mood,” Sparrow replaced the gun in his pocket. The silence was disconcerting to Norrington. Finally, the pirate spoke again as he slid himself up onto the table. “Anamaria doesn’t want me to kill ye fer some reason. She thinks I should tell ye about Jeannette so ye’ll understand,” He sighed. “When I firs’ met Jeannette, she was Jean-Pierre, a sweet little boy of about 10. I was a customer of her mum’s. Ariel was very lovely but she had a problem with the drink. One night, Bootstrap an’ I were playin’ dice with some fellows an’ we heard screamin’. We went to see what happened an’ found Ariel dyin’ from a knife-wound. Seems she’d got herself into some sort of situation. Before she died, she told me an’ Bootstrap that the men who had killed her had taken Jean-Pierre to repay her debt. We found ‘em just in time but Jean-Pierre had seen his mum hurt and it did somethin’ to him. He wouldn’ let me outta his sight. It was damned inconvenient but I jus’ couldn’t turn him away. So we brought him with us aboard the Pearl. “He stayed with us fer a couple a years until we sailed into Trinidad. While we were there, he came to me an’ told me he wanted to stay. I asked him if he were sure an’ if he knew what he was doin’. He said he did so I gave him a share an’ let him go. Next time I saw him, it was after I’d lost the Pearl. He musta been about 18, I guess. He was callin’ himself Jeannette. Had his hair long and was wearin’ a dress. “When he saw me, he was scared at first, thinkin’ that somehow I’d be upset with him. I wasn’t, o’ course. But others were. So we had t’ make it safe fer him. We ended up gettin’ the deed t’ that inn fer her an’ I talked a couple o’ old pals o’ mine into stayin’ on as her protectors. She’s taken care of like I promised her mum ‘cept fer one thing. She gets her heart broke on a regular basis, usually on account of scoundrels like you.” “How dare you! You tied _me_ to the bed--.” “Aye, I did so ye wouldn’t take it into yer head to try to escape while I got some shut-eye. Jeannette was quite taken with ye so when ye kept insistin’ that I had t’-well, swab out yer cannon, she offered to help ye out, even though she doesn’t really like t’ do that. Ye started kissin’ her and tellin’ her ye loved her. I don’t know what all really happened as I gave the two of ye yer privacy. Ye made it perfectly clear to the both of us that I wasn’t invited so I went off an’ had me a bit more rum. I come back about an hour later and found the two o’ ye sound asleep in each other’s arms. I tied ye up so I could sleep fer a bit. Then when ye woke up and acted like-like ye did, she was terribly disappointed. Same as me.” “This is absurd! She-It was a whore, Sparrow, nothing but a common, dirty whore!” Norrington gritted his teeth against the emotion seething within him. “You cannot possibly think that I would--.” Sparrow grabbed him by the shirtfront and yanked him up out of the chair. The pirate was surprisingly strong for his size. “No, but SHE did! An’ she _ain’t_ a whore. She don’t bed anyone fer money, jus’ ‘cause they have a place in her heart. Like me.” So close, Norrington couldn’t miss the longing in the dark eyes. Without thinking, afraid that the moment would be gone if he hesitated, James caught the pirate’s mouth with his own. He pushed his left hand into the dark hair to hold the captain steady, his right hand slid under the greatcoat, seeking contact with the hot, hard flesh of the pirate’s body. Sparrow uttered a soft whimper that was treacherously close to a sob as his hands loosened on the Commodore’s ragged shirt before drifting down to glide around his chest. His rough hands moved across James’ unmarked back and he moaned at the feeling. He felt Norrington’s strong hands skim into his own shirt, finally, the long fingers finding the scars left by the East India Company. For a moment, he caught his breath, afraid that the sensation would disgust or unsettle James. Instead, the naval officer growled hungrily and tried to climb into the clothes he wore. James broke the kiss long enough to take a breath then returned his mouth to Jack’s. Carefully, he pulled Jack up onto the table with him, his hands shook as they lowered to the pirate’s breeches. At the first touch, Sparrow’s hips arched up and he gasped against Norrington’s lips. James pulled back a bit to look at Jack, hoping to see the look of blissful abandon he’d seen on that face once before. Instead, he saw tear-streaks scoring the planes of his cheeks and words were yanked out of him. “Forgive me, Jack, I-I didn’t mean—Please, love, I _am_ sorry. You must believe that.” The blue eyes searched the dark ones. “She isn’t-She deserves someone to love her—as do you.” “Jamie,” was the only thing Jack could say before Norrington pressed his mouth back down onto his. James couldn’t stand to hear whatever it was Jack was going to say. If Sparrow professed to love him, Norrington would know that was a lie and any other declaration would be too agonizing to bear at the moment. Jack groaned as Jamie’s hands twitched the laces free and pulled off his trousers. A brush of the man’s hand against his painfully hard cock nearly made him come and only the fact that he knocked his head lightly against the table’s surface kept him from it. He half-chuckled, feeling slightly insane, then the warm, soft mouth was surrounding the head of his manhood. “Please, Jamie,” He sighed. For Norrington, the sensation of the pirate’s rough hands caressing his hair sent shivers down his spine. He could hear Sparrow’s breath catch in his throat every time his tongue made a pass across the head. As gently as possible, he slid the foreskin of Jack’s penis back and licked the newly exposed flesh. Jack choked back a scream as the orgasm pounded through him. The sound made his own member ache but at the moment, he couldn’t imagine asking anything of Jack. He crawled back up Jack’s momentarily spent body and pulled the pirate into his arms. He nestled his cheek against Jack’s forehead and held him very tightly. “James,” Sparrow’s voice was tentative and Norrington grew afraid. He wanted to tell the pirate not to speak but couldn’t trust his own voice for the pain that rested in his chest. “If they-the marriage goes forward, would ye consider--?” The Commodore paused and swallowed, trying to control his voice enough to speak. “I would. I’ve recently been made aware that there are things more important than my career.” The pirate raised his head, examining Norrington. “Do not toy wiff me, lad. I’m perilous near to doin’ something rash.” “Rash?” “Aye, like this,” Jack launched himself onto James’ chest and commandeered his mouth as any good pirate would take a fine ship. It took but a moment to turn Norrington on his side and draw the trousers down. The pirate pressed himself against the Commodore’s aft and, as he slid his arms about James’ midsection, he pushed his cock into him. Norrington grunted at the intrusion but moaned an endearment, moving his hips backward in a silent request for more. Jack began to hum without thinking, enjoying the sensation, when he heard James gasp. “Please, Jack, not _that_ song.” It interrupted Sparrow’s rhythm and he looked at Norrington before realizing the song had been the one Elizabeth taught him. He smiled apologetically. “Sorry, love, I didn’t think about it. Mum’s the word now.” With a determined sigh, Jack went back to work. To prevent himself from humming and distracting Norrington again, he started kissing the nape of James’ neck, his mouth open just enough to occasionally allow his teeth to graze the flesh or his tongue to taste the salt of his sweat. He slid his hand down to pet James’ love-staff. He barely brushed the flesh with his fingertips and Jamie came with a spasm and soft outcry. Jack pressed his face against Norrington’s shoulders and began to move faster. He could smell the sweat and the sea on James but, oddly enough, it was a faint whiff of Jeannette’s perfume that took him over the edge. He held tighter to Norrington, sighed heavily, and drifted off to sleep. *** Chapter 6 - Resolution That had been a week ago. Most of the crew knew, by now, that Sparrow was bedding the Commodore though some were surprised to learn that their first time had been just days ago. At one point, the boy Norrington had spoken with—his name he discovered was Charles—had sidled up to him and asked him how he’d managed it. Norrington shrugged, not quite sure himself. It seemed though that he and Sparrow had to be on the verge of mutual murder or at least assault in order for them to make a breakthrough. He was not about to advise Charles to make the captain angry enough to do violence to him. He suspected that only worked between the two of them. For the last few nights, they had shared the captain’s bunk. James became aware that Jack was not an easy sleeper, particularly not in that bed. He wanted to ask Jack why that would be but he faltered at every turn. Then again, it was hard to keep his focus on a conversation when Jack was so close and so willing. He loved falling asleep with the heat of the pirate against him or waking to find a pair of warm, soft lips upon him somewhere. He learned to love the scent of rum more than almost anything else. He grew wistful, even to the point of hoping that Elizabeth would marry Will Turner before they returned to Port Royal so that he would never have to put the uniform back on. He’d grown to revere the freedom of movement he had in pirate clothes. He pulled Jack into his arms as the pirate slept. A clink of an empty rum bottle against the wood of the bunk indicated to Norrington that the waves had become choppier since they’d retired for the night. Because of the drink, though, Sparrow would probably sleep the night through and Norrington was happy for that. Jack needed what sleep he could get. He buried his face in the black hair, the faint click of beads and the brush of cold metal coins against his cheek reminding him that he truly was in bed with Captain Jack of the notorious Black Pearl. He allowed a hand to stroke down Jack’s back and winced at the feeling of the rough scars. The East India Company was not known for kindly treatment of prisoners. He wondered how many lashes Jack had received. At least 20, he guessed. Perhaps even a near death sentence of 39 would not be unheard of. Jack sighed and placed his forehead against Norrington’s collarbone. James heard him mutter the word “whelp” and blinked back a tear. “Whelp” meant Will Turner, he knew. He wanted to hate Turner, hate him for his openness, his ability to do something rash for one he loved, his hold on both the woman and the man Norrington now knew he loved, but he couldn’t. How could he hate anything or anyone that both Jack and Elizabeth loved so very much? When they discovered Jack and Elizabeth marooned on the island together, he hadn’t bothered to ask if anything improper had occurred. He knew Elizabeth and knew that she wouldn’t allow such a thing to happen. But there had still been a moment when jealousy had reared its ugly head. At the time, he hadn’t wanted to acknowledge it, but now the thought made him smile. They were climbing out of the longboat. Jack was ahead of Elizabeth who was ahead of Norrington. As he swung a leg over the bulwark, Sparrow spoke to Elizabeth. “If ye please, young miss, don’t go spreadin’ the rumor about that ye got me drunk and had yer way wi’ me. I’m afraid it would ruin me reputation.” Elizabeth laughed, softly but cynically. “I’m afraid, Captain Sparrow, that you don’t have to worry about anything of the sort.” As James climbed aboard, he saw a look of regret pass over Jack’s face. It was that look that made jealousy slice into his heart. What was worse, it was the fact that Jack looked at Elizabeth and not at Norrington that made it happen. When Elizabeth had begged them to pursue the Black Pearl in an effort to save brash Mr. Turner, then Jack had made his own overtures, he had put every ounce of strength into his resolve not to do it. What had broken him, besides Elizabeth’s acceptance of his proposal, was the look on Sparrow’s face as he offered his wrists up to the irons. Begging became Captain Sparrow in the most diabolical fashion. “No,” Jack muttered softly, pushing away from James, struggling to breathe. “No, don’t . . . Please lemme . . . Lemme go!” Norrington pulled back slightly, giving Jack a sense of freedom without taking his hands off him entirely. “It’s all right, my love. Nothing will happen to you, you have my word. Rest easy, Jack.” At the words, the dark eyes opened, alcohol and fatigue giving them an unfocused look of wild beauty. “Jamie?” “Yes, Jack, I am here for you,” Norrington smiled gently and brushed the pirate’s cheek with his knuckles. “I’ll make sure nothing bad happens here again, all right?” The furrow in Jack’s brow eased and he smiled in return. “Commodores’re good t’ have aroun’. Keep ye safe an’ warm at night.” With that, Jack curled himself back into Norrington’s arms, closed his eyes and was soon snoring softly, his face pressed against James’ nightshirt. James wondered what Gillette or Groves would say if they saw him right now, curled protectively about the worst pirate he’d ever seen. He chuckled as he pictured it and drifted off to sleep himself. *** “ . . . damaged goods,” The words woke Norrington almost instantly. The one problem with sleeping with the pirate captain was that he talked in his sleep. As if his mouth didn’t run enough during the waking hours, he ended up babbling at night, too. Mostly, it was mumbling that you couldn’t make out but one or two words of. Sometimes, though, you could hear whole sentences and, the other night, he’d heard an entire wild story about an island of fish who wanted to sacrifice “the whelp” for being a virgin. That one had nearly made Norrington laugh outright. “What’s damaged goods?” Norrington asked quietly. From the sounds above deck, dawn had just come. “Me,” Jack replied as he did sometimes if Norrington asked the right question when he spoke in his sleep. “Canno’ love damaged goods.” “Who cannot love you, Jack?” Norrington knew the answer would be Turner and he could sigh with relief then. “Anybody,” Sparrow sighed, a little half-catch turning it into a sob. For the first time since his early naval training, tears spilled out of James’ eyes at the sound. His hands trembled as he threaded his fingers into Jack’s braids. He fought the tears back and tempered his voice. “You know that’s not true, Jack. The Commodore loves you. I love you.” For a moment, he thought Jack’s eyes would open and he would grin wickedly before saying, “Gotcha” or some other nonsense. Instead a tiny, tired smile passed over Sparrow’s face and he murmured, “Oh, I forgot. Sorry, love.” When he resumed snoring, James smiled and rose from the bed. He dressed quietly then leaned down to kiss Jack on the forehead before leaving. Being taken for granted and forgotten had never felt quite so satisfying. *** Chapter 7 - Review For Norrington, the next fortnight passed too quickly. At one point, they surprised a French privateer coming from the coast of Mexico with a plunder of gold and cacao beans. To Norrington’s shock, Jack was more excited about the cacao than the gold, though he was quite willing to take both. There was some discussion about the disposition of crew and ship, though. The crew was allowed to remain aboard until the final decision was made. “She’s a fine ship, Anamaria,” Jack said looking the slightly smaller schooner over with an acquisitive eye. “She’s armed nice fer her size too. Got a look at her hull and she’s caulked tight though I think that main mast might be needin’ some attention afore too long. Ye could change the name if ye don’t like it.” The ship was called Le Whore Ecarlate. Anamaria was glaring at Jack now. “No. I want a ship the size of the Pearl, at least. You like her so much, you take her and give me this one.” Jack put a finger to his lips. “Shhh, don’t even hint at such a thing, woman! The Pearl is the only ship fer me. How ‘bout you, James? I’d even let you be a commodore again! And I’d buy you a really big hat.” Norrington looked the ship over as if he was truly considering the notion. “The offer does have a certain appeal, Captain, but I must respectfully decline. I’m much too new at piracy to receive my own ship right now.” “Ah, well. I’ll give you a few minutes to reconsider, love,” He addressed the last to Anamaria then went to the wheel and began to speak to the Pearl. “Don’t pay any heed t’ her, my love. She’s out of her mind. I’d ne’er leave you, ship o’ my dreams. That nasty piece o’ keel is just so much flotsam and jetsam next t’ you, my beauty.” James regarded Jack curiously as he spoke to the wood of the wheel. After a few minutes, Sparrow turned to see him staring at him. He smiled crookedly. “Problem, mate?” “No, of course not,” Norrington replied with a shrug. “I just never realized that you literally talk to the Pearl. I thought it was just a metaphor.” “Ye mean, ye _never_ talk to the Dauntless?” Jack looked horrified. “Actually,” Norrington paused. “No. The Dauntless is-well, it’s just a ship.” “NO!!” Jack buried his head in his hands. When he looked up, he moved as close to Norrington as possible and seized the front of his shirt. “How can ye _do_ that? Ye mus’ talk to yer ship, Jamie. Ye must let her know ye love her and will take care o’ her. Has the Dauntless never spoken t’ ye? Have ye never asked her about her dreams? Shared yer pain wiff her? ‘Tis a marriage of souls, James. Aye, she’s made different from you but, like you, she needs to hear yer voice and to feel yer hands upon her in kindness and sweetness, not jus’ during a-a ‘plan of action.’ An’ if ye don’t listen t’ her, ye’ll lose her, as sure as I lost the Pearl so long ago. I fergot t’ listen, Jamie. Don’t make the same mistake with yer lovely as I did with mine.” James saw Jack’s eyes narrow and realized that he was speaking of something beyond just talking to a boat. Jack cocked his head warningly, held up a finger, then winked at him and turned back to the wheel. Norrington left Sparrow at the helm again talking to the Pearl. He took a place at the rail by Anamaria. “Why won’t you take this one really?” “He still needs me,” She said quietly, not meeting Norrington’s gaze. “It don’t make sense, I know, but I owe him that much. When I think he’s ready, I’ll move on.” “When will that be?” “Are you sure you want to hear, Navy?” She finally turned to look him in the face. “When he has someone who really loves him to stand beside him.” Norrington said nothing, though he was grateful for all the training he’d had in keeping his reserve in place. He nodded then spoke. “And how do you know the time hasn’t come?” Anamaria smiled sadly at him. “Because the Turner boy is not aboard this ship. Mark my words, Navy, if you stay aboard, Jack won’t survive the year.” “Consider them marked,” Norrington said then, “But you mark my words. Captain Sparrow’s heart is far safer in my hands than anyone could possibly imagine.” Anamaria scowled at him. “A safe heart isn’t always a happy heart.” With that, she walked away. Norrington wasn’t sure if he hated her or not. *** He had been aboard the Black Pearl for nearly a month. It was difficult to determine sometimes what the hierarchy aboard her was. Generally, if Jack, Anamaria or Gibbs gave an order, someone was expected to obey it. But he’d seen Anamaria give an order and have both Gibbs and Jack leap to obey. Yet all of them came to Jack when decisions needed to be made. Norrington watched him deal with the crew in a way that would get the commander of a Royal vessel court-martialed most likely yet the crew worked harder for him than any he’d ever commanded. Most stunning, he actually asked them what should happen, sought out their opinions, and gave them choices. Occasionally, the choices were unpleasant (wearing the boots versus dying, in his own case) but the crew still had options. If this was how a true pirate crew operated, Norrington suddenly understood why hunting pirates was so much more difficult than they had presumed. He avoided Anamaria as much as possible. Despite all the devotion and care that he lavished upon Jack, she still refused to accept that they could be happy together. Truth be told, Anamaria did not seek him out either. She blamed him for Jack’s refusal to return to Port Royal and pursue Will Turner’s affections. Norrington knew, though, that there were other reasons than himself for that reluctance. If Sparrow never wooed Turner, he would not have to suffer rejection if Turner truly didn’t want him. Having listened to Sparrow’s sleep-talk, he realized that _that_ fear was one the brave Captain Sparrow could not bear to face. So he and Sparrow held tight to one another and wished Will and Elizabeth all the best, all the while never knowing or caring what was to come. *** Chapter 8 - Revision James rolled over in the bed, his hand searching for Jack. When he didn’t find him, he woke, looking around. He slid his trousers on as he rolled out of bed and caught up the bottle of sherry that he’d taken from the last ship they raided. Jack had laughed at him but when James presented him with a case of rum, Jack had promised him with a wink a special surprise that evening. He paused, his fingers toying with the shirt but he abandoned it with a dismissive wave and, barefoot, headed topside in search of the Captain. He rubbed his hand across his chin, the beard Jack talked him into allowing to grow was still very new to him. A quick glance once he was on the main deck showed him that Jack was in his customary place at the wheel. Charles and a dark-skinned sailor named Bell were the only crew on deck. They sat at the bow and talked quietly, ignoring their mad, naked Captain as he conversed with the ship. He headed up the ladder to the quarterdeck but paused at the top of the stairs. He waited politely to be recognized and admitted to the conversation. The wait allowed him to take in Jack in the moonlight. It was a warm night and the breeze lifted Jack’s braids, causing the beads to rattle softly, like a faint drumbeat in accompaniment of Jack’s soft singing. James suspected that Jack had a much better voice than he let others know. He was singing in something that sounded like Spanish, the tune vaguely familiar. “Meu amor verdadeiro tem o meu coração e eu tenho seu . . .” (Trans: My true love has my heart and I have his) The light washed all the color from Jack’s body and, for a moment, James flashed back to that night on the Dauntless when the skeletons had re-fleshed in front of his eyes. With a shudder, he blinked and returned to the present, noting that the scars on Jack’s body cast shadows of their own on his flesh. Over the last few weeks, he’d explored most of those ridges and dents in that flesh but he hadn’t asked about many of them. He knew where most of them came from: the marks from the whipping, the brand, a semi-circle of marks in a thigh from an eel bite. He had only asked about one mark, a long, white, narrow dent that ran along the inside of his upper arm. Jack had been gentle but serious when he replied. “That’s where my mum took a fire-iron to me. I didn’t want t’ let her man-friend have his way wi’ me,” And at those words, Norrington had known he would never ask about another because there was nothing he could do to change the pain for Jack and it hurt his heart too much to hear more. Finally, Jack turned to look at him. Recognition gradually trickled into the eyes and he smiled. “Warm below, ain’t it?” For a moment, Norrington thought he meant the temperature of the cabin but then he realized that Jack was eyeing the tell-tale bulge in the front of his trousers. James shrugged and stepped forward, setting his sherry down. “The cabin is a bit hot too. I missed you.” “You’ll need to get o’er that, mate. I think the Admiralty would frown on you takin’ ol’ Jack to bed wi’ you on the Dauntless,” Sparrow said with an odd grin. “Though ye might tell ‘em I was yer pris’ner. Life sentence an’ all.” “How much rum have you had tonight, my love?” “Not enough an’ yet too much,” was Jack’s reply. “What? I thought you said there was never too much rum?” “Did I?” Jack chuckled and pressed his back against James who moved to stand behind him, his hands enclosing Jack’s as they rested on the wheel. “Sounds like me. I must’ve said it.” Norrington gently brushed Jack’s hair aside and began to kiss the nape of his neck with feather-light lips. Jack sighed or perhaps the wind stressed the sail above them, James wasn’t sure. Jack slid a hand out from under James’ and reached behind him to unfasten the trousers, freeing his penis to the night air. He grabbed James’ hair with that same hand and pulled his face close so their lips could meet. Tongues danced and James began to rock with the ship, letting his cock brush Sparrow’s buttocks until he heard a voice exhale “please.” At the word, he moved into position and began to stroke himself gently up into Jack. The pirate broke his mouth from the Commodore’s at that point and began to pant, bracing himself on the wheel against the thrusts. James slipped his free hand across Jack’s chest then down to begin massaging Jack’s privates with long, gentle touches. Jack groaned and laughed softly, the moon reflected in his black eyes. “I love you, Jack,” James whispered. “Jamie, Jamie, je t’aime,” (Trans: I love you) Sparrow replied and James couldn’t hold back any longer. He came hard and his sputtering cock managed to brush Jack’s sweet spot at just the right moment to send him into the spasm of ecstasy. Together, they drooped against the wheel until they had the strength enough to return to the captain’s bunk. Once there, Jack brushed his mouth across James’ lips before Norrington fell asleep with his head pillowed on Sparrow’s shoulder. It wasn’t until the next morning that it occurred to Norrington that Jack’s mouth had been too busy to say “please.” The only one it could have been was the Pearl. *** The next day started cold and dreary. Rain kept them becalmed for a good portion of the morning but by mid-day the sun peeked through the clouds and a nice westerly breeze kicked up. Jack, who mostly seemed in a good mood since the return of his Pearl, practically danced with giddiness. Norrington put himself to work on the rigging, doing something he hadn’t done regularly in a few years. After a while, he descended from the lines. Charles caught up with him as his feet hit the deck. “Saw you an’ the Captain last night. Thanks, mate, it made night-watch worth doin’ fer a change,” The boy grinned lewdly and reminded James of Jack. “Always happy to be of service,” Norrington replied with a contented smile and realized that just a few weeks ago, he would have glared at the boy or stalked off in disgust. _My God,_ he thought, _I _did_ have a yardarm up my arse_. After a few more minutes, he turned toward the quarterdeck. He climbed the ladder and stopped to see what Jack was doing. The captain was standing on the aft rail gazing intently at something to the stern. He shouted to the crew to lower the topsails, effectively slowing them about a third of their speed. After a few minutes, he hopped down and turned to Norrington. “I figger we got about an hour afore that ship back there catches us.” Norrington approached him and said, softly, “An hour? Are you sure?” Jack nodded. “Why?” “Mr. Gibbs,” Norrington called to the older man on the main deck. “Take the wheel and make us ready for visitors. They should be here in about an hour. If you find the first-mate, tell her to knock before she enters the wardroom.” Gibbs grinned and shook his head. “Aye, sir. Have a fine time, boys.” “Maybe I’ll make the Commodore here a man,” Jack muttered softly to Gibbs as they passed him on the way below deck. “Remind the Captain, Mr. Gibbs, that I already have one; he needn’t make me a spare,” James replied in the same tone of voice. Gibbs laughed and set to work. As they walked into the wardroom, Jack seized a chair and wedged it under the handles of the door. He leered at James and said, “Ye overstepped yer bounds, Mr. Norrington. I b’lieve ‘tis in my rights as yer Captain to deal out some corporal—or in this case commodoral—punishment fer that. D’ye have a preference?” Norrington nearly grinned but restrained himself. “It’s not customary to give the-the guilty one a choice, Captain.” “Humor me, love,” Jack tilted his head and planted a hand on his hip. “Well then,” James sighed. “I’m—I must admit, I’ve always enjoyed a good paddling--giving one, that is.” Jack’s eyebrows raised and he shook his head as he removed his hat. He removed the scarf from his hair and knotted it about Norrington’s wrists then led him by it to one side of the table. He bent James over the back of a chair and tied his wrists to the table leg with the long tails of the scarf. Sliding a hand down James’ chest to the front of his breeches, he undid the laces at the front and peeled the trousers down with a minimum of contact. Norrington bit his lip to suppress the gasp of pleasure. Jack then stepped to the side of the room behind James. When the taller man attempted to twist about to see what was up, Sparrow returned to his side. “Nah-ah, me lovely, no peeking,” And with that, Sparrow seized Norrington’s shirt-tails and flipped them over his head, effectively blindfolding him but allowing his back half to enjoy the pirate’s attentions. A few minutes passed then James heard the pirate speak. “Ooh, look, ‘tis the ghost of Commodore Norrington come back t’ haunt us,” Jack had merriment in his voice. “Mmmm, but it’s not just a spirit that be risin’, I see.” James moaned, trying to speak. “Mmm-May I remind you, Captain, that we have less than an hour for this?” Without warning, the cold steel of the flat of a blade spanked his rear smartly. It hurt but Jack had such control over the movement of the blade that it did no damage beyond leaving a little red mark. “Don’t speak til yer spoken to, boy. I’m mindful o’ the time. ‘Sides, if that’s a navy ship back there, it might be helpful t’ yer career t’ be found in bondage in me wardroom. Ye can then say you were bein’ held against yer own volition. They might give ye back yer post at that.” “But what if I don’t _want_ to go back?” James asked, moving his rump in such a way that it offered Jack a more tempting target. As he had hoped, the blade slapped him again. “Don’ be foolish, boy. O’ course ye’ll go back. Ye’re too devoted to the navy not to. Just not right away, right?” With a shiver, he felt the point of the sword trace the crack of his ass. Involuntarily, he felt his pelvis beginning to hump at the air. That earned him another blow from the flat of the blade. “No, no, no, mate, not without my permission,” Jack’s breath slipped across James’ naked shoulders. When he felt the pirate’s rough hands begin to stroke tenderly across the lightly reddened marks on his buttocks, he uttered a shivering sigh. “There, there, love. Hope yer punishment wasn’t too bad.” “No, sir,” Norrington whispered and Jack chuckled, the sound low and evil. Jack’s boot gently pushed first one foot then the other aside. James growled helplessly and started to push back but Jack just moved away. “Naughty Commodore, ye have a real hard time lettin’ others devise and execute a plan, don’t ye?” “Please, Jack,” James said softly. “Three-quarters-hour,” Jack replied, his breath now caressing James’ naked buttocks. “See? Tol’ ye I was mindful o’ the time.” “Jack,” Norrington’s voice was soft but cajoling. “Please. Aren’t you ‘in need’?” The evil chuckle returned as a slick finger began to rub between his ass cheeks. “’In need’, love? How quaint. Randy? Aye. Horny? Aye. Hot? Oh, aye, love. But what really gets t’ me is seein’ ye squirm, darlin’.” James reacted helplessly, yanking hard at the silk that bound his hands. When his rigid cock brushed the chair back, he drew back in shock at how cold the wood seemed. To his astonishment, Jack’s hand was waiting to take advantage of the backwards motion. He impaled himself on a well-slicked finger and felt Jack’s tongue and teeth graze along his lower spine. He began to tremble, little whimpers escaping his considerable control. A second finger joined the first but both were very careful to avoid giving Norrington too much of what he wanted. “Dammit, Jack, I can’t take it anymore. Fuck me!” To Norrington’s dismay, Jack withdrew all contact from him. “I’m the captain on this ship, love. I don’t take orders from you.” James sobbed helplessly. “Please?” “No,” Jack’s voice came from someplace between Norrington’s thighs and, without warning, the pirate was running his tongue over James’ shaft, occasionally sucking briefly at the nicely dripping head. James gulped hard and wanted to press forward but the pirate held his hips firmly to keep that from happening. James glanced down but could only just see glimpses of Jack’s dark hair as he was hidden by the front of Norrington’s shirt. When Jack tickled the base of James’ penis with his fingertips as he took the head completely into his mouth, Norrington came. He cried out Jack’s name and slumped forward. If it hadn’t been for the chair, he would have collapsed directly onto the pirate, not an unpleasant option, all things considered. “Such a delicious mischief-maker ye are,” Jack said, his hand pulling at the knot that bound James to the table leg. He left Norrington’s hands bound but pulled him into the floor beside him. “Now, love, it’s my turn.” He rolled James onto his back and scooted around until he was sitting to the left of Norrington’s head. He reached a hand out to gently stroke his fingers through James’ sweat-dampened curls and down across his cheek to stroke his trembling lower lip. “Here’s the deal. Yer hands stay tied down there. Ye hafta leave me enough time t’ put meself to rights before we meet that ship followin’ us. Ye gotta undo me trousers and pleasure me, simple as that. Oh, an’ I get t’ watch. Got that, love?” “Aye, Captain,” Norrington sighed, his body still experiencing little tremors of pleasure. He leaned over and sought out the knot of Jack’s laces. A glance up revealed Jack’s eyes set on him with a scorching look, a smile of encouragement on his face. He found the right end of the lacing to pull on and the knot came undone on the first try. He didn’t know if he could have tolerated making the wrong choice. He shuddered at the thought but he didn’t know if he shuddered out of gratitude or disappointment. He worked his way through the laces relatively quickly then began to nuzzle into the fabric of the trousers themselves. To his pleasant surprise, Jack’s cock ambushed him after just a bit of tugging and pushing. Another glance toward Jack’s face and James understood that Jack was having a struggle resisting the urge to help things along. It crossed Norrington’s mind to refuse to go further until Jack untied his hands but, at that second, Jack made the most delightful gasping sound. James couldn’t refuse him after that sound and began to apply his tongue to the tender flesh before him with the same concentration that he’d worked the rigging a short time earlier. Jack watched James work at him as long as he could but it just wasn’t meant for him to watch the whole thing. He wound his fingers into Norrington’s dark hair, the Commodore’s new-growth beard and mustache tickling him in just the right way as his lips and tongue moved to and fro on his manhood. He slumped back against the chair as the climax smashed through him, pulling a shapeless cry of bliss from his throat. When he recovered after a few minutes, he reached down to untie Norrington’s hands. James sat up and took the scarf from the Captain’s hands then tied it back in its customary location. He pulled Jack into his arms and kissed him tenderly. Jack nestled his head into James’ neck and sighed. “That was wonderful, love.” They were back on-deck before another quarter hour had passed. Jack took the wheel back from Gibbs. His hat remained safe in the cabin. James joined him on the quarterdeck a few minutes later. “Well, Norrie, here’s yer chance,” Jack said with a smile at him after a few seconds. “What?” James stepped to the aft rail with Jack and followed his line of sight back to the larger ship that was moving gradually closer. A British flag waved on her mast and made Norrington’s heart swell with pride. A glance over at Jack though, who gazed at him with a look that said he had known what Norrington’s reaction would be, filled him with shame. “Here’s yer chance to be rescued, love. Ye’ve probably got time to go put on yer uniform. The wig and boots are in Anamaria’s cabin—don’t ask—but she’ll probably give ‘em back t’ ye if ye beg. They might not fire on us ‘til after ye’ve gone t’ their deck.” The dark eyes had grown listless, the pain commandeering them over the joy. “I wear the uniform I want to wear,” James said calmly. He reached a hand out to cup the back of Jack’s head then kissed him lightly on the mouth. When he pulled back, Jack’s eyes glimmered again. He leaned into the taller sailor and let the arm remain draped about his shoulders. James could hear Gibbs calling out orders. Beneath his feet, the Pearl had begun to hum, as had Jack at his side. “Recognize her?” Jack asked after another moment or two, his eyes narrowed against the glare. Norrington tried to make out some details but, at this distance, he couldn’t tell for certain. His mind ran through the possibilities. “A frigate like that . . . Possibly the Valiant or the Incorruptible. If it’s the former, we may be in trouble. If the latter, who knows? Captain Hardy is a sailor but not much of a warrior. To be honest, I don’t really know how he became a captain.” “Got on yer list somehow,” Jack said softly. “Who’s in charge o’ the Valiant?” “Falconer is the name,” Norrington smiled slightly. “Young, aggressive, determined to make the admiralty before he’s 30, if he doesn’t get killed first. He reminds me of myself somewhat.” “Falconer, eh? Maybe that’s a omen. Falcons eat sparrows, ye know,” Jack grinned in a way that made Norrington’s heart skip a beat with terror. “We’d best be makin’ ready, just in case.” James started to turn away but Jack grabbed his hand and drew him close. For a moment, James thought they were going to kiss but Sparrow put a finger to his lips. “Listen, love, if somethin’ should happen to me, please do me a favor?” James swallowed hard. “Ask.” “Take a message to Will for me? I know this is cruel but,” Jack hesitated. “I want him t’ know that I wish him well and that-that I loved him? I don’t know as he’ll understand but tell him fer me?” Norrington gritted his teeth. “Of course, Jack. Whatever you want.” “Ye don’t have to be a good sailor where yer heart’s concerned, mate,” Jack’s eyes reflected the sorrow he saw in James’ blue ones. “I’d understand if ye told me ‘no.’” Norrington said nothing just leaned down and kissed the pirate hard on the mouth. Jack caught his breath at the intensity of the caress. When James raised his head, he spoke. “Why would I tell you no? I’ll never have to deliver that message. Savvy?” Jack shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Ye’re incorrigible, Commodore.” With a final squeeze of Norrington’s hand, the pirate went to the wheel. James started loading the racked pistols carefully and checked the progress of the pursuing vessel every time he laid one down and picked another up. Suddenly, he felt a body press against his backside as arms slid around his waist. He glanced down to see Jack was fastening a sword about his waist, and not just any sword. The one Will Turner had made that the Governor had given him. He caught one of the hands before it could escape. “Thank you, love.” Jack chuckled softly and cupped a hand under the right cheek of his backside. “Ye’ll pay me back handsomely later.” “You can’t be serious, Jack, not after-after--.” The pirate leered widely, “Especially after, love.” Norrington grinned and turned back to the job at hand. When he finished, he took a moment to draw the sword and examine it. Someone had been keeping it well-tended. James sighed as he thought, _Jack knows that a weapon needs proper care, especially a man’s sword_. Jack called down to Gibbs. “They’re comin’ up on the starboard. Fire from the aft on my mark—not afore!” “Aye, cap’n,” Gibbs replied and went below to relay the command. Jack began to hum again, the sound so soft that James couldn’t make the tune out until he came to a particular passage and began to actually sing: “Oh, don’t deceive me, oh, never leave me, how can you use a poor maiden so.” He glanced over at Norrington and smiled. “Always was partial t’ that one.” Norrington smiled back. After another minute, Jack turned and approached James, leaning very close. “Take care, love.” Then he looked up as the Valiant began to draw up alongside. “NOW!!” Norrington had to marvel at Sparrow’s daring. Firing cannon while moving was risky. It was entirely too possible for a cannon to roll back from the port at the wrong moment to wreak havoc in your own ship. The Pearl shivered as the first cannon fired; the shot landed harmlessly in the water. The second shot hit the Valiant low, just above the water-line and the impact was partially absorbed by the ocean. Following shots had varying rates of success, as could be expected. Jack shot a glance up at the sky then, without warning, he threw himself across the deck and knocked James flat. “Sorry, love,” He said and leaped up, grabbing up one of the pistols and firing back at the marine who had dared to shoot at Norrington. The Pearl bucked under him with the impact of a cannonball and his shot went wild. “Bloody navy!” “Axes!!” Jack suddenly turned and yelled. Norrington had regained his feet and saw that the Valiant was bare inches from the Pearl. He heard someone on the Valiant call out for the anchors to be dropped at the same moment that there was a hail of grappling hooks, boarding lines attached, from the deck of the slightly taller naval ship, which suddenly made Jack’s order for the axes quite sensible. Despite the crew’s measures, though, they couldn’t get all the lines cut in time and there was a nasty groaning and crunching as the Pearl was dragged to a halt by the Valiant. For James, time slowed during battles. Everything moved too fast to remember more than just vignettes of what happened. He had his sword and a pistol in hand, fighting back-to-back with Jack. Marines poured over the bulwark of the Pearl at first but the Pearl’s crew were experienced, skilled and determined. There was a sense of the tide of battle turning. A lieutenant threw himself up onto the quarterdeck and Norrington turned to take him on. He heard Jack swear. “Dammit, Charles, get yer arse back here!” He hopped up onto the rail and grabbed for a line to swing over to the Valiant and retrieve the errant lad. Norrington wasn’t sure how it happened but he heard Jack make a sound, a cross between a cry of alarm and a curse. James was able to kick the lieutenant in the stomach and the young officer rolled down the stairs. He looked up to see Jack fighting one-handed as he tried to drag a badly injured Charles back to the Pearl. The boy roused, smiled up at Jack then threw himself upon the sword of Jack’s nearest opponent. Jack, realizing his own situation was critical and that the boy was dead, ran for the rail of the Valiant and leaped down onto the railing of the Pearl’s quarterdeck. Norrington heard something and turned his head in time to see one of the marines point a pistol at the captain. “NO! Jack!!” In horror, James saw Jack’s body crumple as the bullet hit him. Standing as he was on the rail, Jack pitched backwards into the water off the right side of the Pearl. The lieutenant was staggering up to re-engage James. Norrington punched him in the face and the young officer went down again. Norrington ran for the rail and dove overboard. Sparrow was floating face down in the water when James grabbed him, turning him over and swimming for the Pearl. He seized the Jacob’s ladder and found the strength to pull himself up it with Jack slung over his shoulder. As soon as he was aboard, he bellowed, “Dammit, get rid of their lines! Sails full. Anamaria, grab the wheel. Get us out of here!” To Norrington’s surprise, the crew leaped immediately to obey. Those still involved in skirmishing fought harder to drive the marines off the Pearl or scrambled to get away and get back aboard her. The Commodore felt Jack shudder in his arms. He managed to gain his feet and carried the pirate below to the captain’s bunk. Pulling off Jack’s wet clothes, he saw the belly wound was serious, potentially fatal. He wrapped Jack in a blanket and put him on the bed. “You are under orders to live, Captain Sparrow. Don’t you dare die on me. I won’t stand for that kind of mutinous behavior,” Norrington said urgently. He turned Sparrow over gently and realized that the shot had gone all the way through him. He searched frantically for something to press against the wounds to stop the bleeding, finally finding his uniform shirts from his grip. He felt the Pearl jerk distinctively to the larboard and heard a ragged cheer from above. They were free of the Valiant at last. With the sails fully engaged, Norrington was relatively sure the smaller, lighter Pearl could outrun the larger, heavier Valiant. There was a knock at the door to the cabin. “Come in.” Gibbs and another crewman came in. “How’s Jack?” “He needs his gut stitched. It looks like the bullet went all the way through him,” Norrington allowed the cool reserve to rise, helping him to keep a clear head even though he was relatively sure Jack was dying. “Go get me a needle and some thread, some rum and some clean cloths. Make it quick.” Gibbs came into the room and Norrington moved aside. He watched dispassionately as the second mate examined Jack, shaking his head. “Holy Mary, it’s a miracle he’s still alive. You should change, sir, get some dry clothes on ‘fore ye take sick yerself.” Norrington opened his mouth as if to refuse then thought better of it. He pulled his remaining shirt out of his grip then changed into dry trousers. By the time he was finished, Shanks had returned with the supplies Gibbs needed. Norrington let Gibbs get to work and went up to speak to Anamaria. “How’s Jack?” She asked before he’d even reached the deck. “It’s not good,” James said. “Gibbs said it’s a miracle he’s still alive. He had a whole blown through him.” Anamaria scowled and turned her gaze away from Norrington. “I told you but you didn’t want to listen. Now we’re gonna lose him and it’s all your fault!” Norrington said nothing for several minutes then finally muttered, “I didn’t mean for it to happen. I am sorry.” She glowered at him finally. “Save it. Get off this deck. Jack needs you.” James bowed his head slightly and went back to Jack. He arrived to find that Gibbs was done treating the captain. He glanced up at Norrington as he re-entered. “We done all we could fer him,” Joshamee said, shaking his head sadly as he gazed down at the pirate captain. “He was a good man.” Norrington dropped his hand on Gibbs’ shoulder and leaned down to hiss in his ear. “Stop that! Jack is going to live. Get on with your work.” Gibbs glared at him for a moment then shook his head and, without a word, stalked from the room. James sat down gently on the bed next to Jack. He took the pirate’s hand then reached out to stroke Jack’s cheek. “You can’t do this, Jack. I refuse to let that woman up there be right,” Norrington groused softly. “Please, Jack.” There was to be no response from the pirate captain that night. The Pearl flew through night-bound waters like a ghost-ship. Norrington could sense that she was as anguished over her captain’s condition as he was. _Maybe more so_, he reminded himself, thinking what Jack had said about the two of them sharing souls. It was nearing midnight when he went topside. Bell and Shanks were on watch tonight. Norrington allowed himself at that moment to think about Charles and how he’d died. The boy had known he was not going to live so he’d sacrificed himself to save Jack. Norrington wondered if any of the sailors on the Dauntless or any other vessel he’d commanded would have done the same for him. He remembered Jack flying through the air to knock him down. If Jack hadn’t been so devoted, he could easily picture himself lying in a cabin on the Valiant dying from a gut wound and the Pearl in flames or sinking beneath the waves, Jack captured or dead. Split second decisions made life-changing consequences. If Jack died, he would stay on with the Pearl, he decided. He stepped up to the wheel. The wheel was tied-off and he made no move to change that. Remembering Jack from the previous night, he placed his hands on the spokes in as near to the same way as he could. He spoke in a whisper. “Milady, if you have any way to help him, please do so now. I love him and I believe that he loves me. Do you hear me?” _Yes_, came a whisper from a sail. Norrington wasn’t sure he hadn’t been driven mad by Jack after all but, at this point, madness was his best hope. _Stay with him._ “I will, dear ship, I will.” He started to leave the quarterdeck when he heard a final sigh. _Forgive him._ Norrington hesitated, unsure he had “heard” her correctly. With a shrug, though, he returned to the captain’s cabin. As carefully as possible, he laid down in the bed beside Jack, nestled his head beside the pirate’s on his pillow and dozed off. He woke the next morning when Gibbs brought a tray of food in. “Thought ye might need somethin’ t’ keep yer strength up. If he wakes, I’ll bring him some broth if he’s up to it. I wasn’t sure he’d make it this long.” Norrington eased from the bed and helped himself to some grapes then a bit of bread. “How’s the Pearl?” Gibbs shrugged. “She took in a bit o’ water but the hole’s been fixed and she’s been pumped out. Had to replace a few lines and fix one o’ the sheets but she’s certainly come out o’ fights in a lot worse shape.” “Good,” Norrington replied and glanced back to see that Jack was still unconscious. “The crew?” “Lost Charles, Porter and one o’ the new blokes. And Jack.” “He’s not lost yet,” James said stiffly. “What about you and Anamaria?” Gibbs shrugged again. “We’re alive and in one piece fer now. Anamaria ain’t happy with you. If Jack dies, I think she’s goin’ t’ push fer maroonin’ you.” “She would have done that before,” Norrington replied, feeling a grim smile tug at his mouth. “Thank you, Gibbs.” “It ain’t me ye need to worry about. It’s him.” James nodded. “Still. Thanks anyway.” Gibbs nodded in response then left the room. James went to the drawer where Jack kept his liquor that was not rum and found some wine. He opened the bottle and took a swallow. Dry, not too fruity, it was better than nothing. He returned to Jack’s side after a moment to begin a long, silent vigil. He wasn’t sure what time it was except that he knew it was after the evening meal when Jack’s eyes opened. He looked around blearily, licking at his lips. “Rum?” James asked, bringing a tin cup to him. Jack grinned. “Even on me deathbed, aye, I’ll take rum. Where are we?” “I’m not sure,” James admitted; he lifted Jack’s head slightly and put the cup to his lips. Jack swallowed a tiny amount then moaned in pain. “Anamaria and Gibbs are in charge of the Pearl. I’m in charge of you. Would you like some laudanum?” Jack made a face and shook his head just slightly. “Good rum ruint. More, love.” James obliged. When Jack was finished, he set the cup aside. “Feel up to some broth?” Sparrow shook his head and sighed, his eyes drifting closed every few seconds as if to block out the pain. He reached a hand out and managed to grab Norrington’s arm. “Jamie, I got a confession t’ make,” Sparrow’s voice was hoarse. “I- . . .” Norrington put a finger to his lips. “No. I don’t want to hear it, not tonight. You need to sleep. You can confess whatever sins you think appropriate on the morrow, savvy?” Jack chuckled, “That’s my catchphrase, Norrie. I’d like it back, if ye please.” “That’s the pirate I want to hear snoring. Sleep, my love. Your ship is in excellent hands, as are you.” Jack, recognizing that he was in no shape to argue, did as he was told. James held his hand while he slept but the blue eyes were troubled. First a “confession” then the use of “Norrie” worried him, not to mention all of Jack’s talk the last few days about him resuming his career with the navy. He feared that the time was at hand when he would have to make the most difficult decision of his life. *** Chapter 9 – Retraction Other than when apprehending Jack Sparrow, he hadn’t been to the forge since he’d helped Governor Swann arrange the apprenticeship for the Turner boy. It smelled the same, though it was a bit neater, the tools and wares stored carefully away. As he entered, he looked for Mr. Brown but he wasn’t in. At that moment, the back door of the establishment opened and Will Turner appeared bearing a bucket of water. “Commodore! I-I had heard that you were missing. I must say I’m pleased to see you back in one piece.” Norrington felt a corner of his mouth twitch up. “Thank you, Mr. Turner. I-I have a message for you. It’s from Captain Sparrow.” “Jack?” Will’s amber eyes widened and he dropped the bucket as if his hand had slipped. “What-You saw Jack?” “I-Yes, I saw Captain Sparrow. In fact, I spent several weeks with him aboard the Black Pearl. He asked me to give you a message.” Norrington’s chest burned but he was determined to get through this as quickly as possible. He hadn’t yet seen Elizabeth to tell her though he suspected that would be easier. “How is he? Where are they? Are Anamaria and Gibbs still with him? Have they had any adventures?” Will smiled fondly. “I have to confess, I rather miss Jack.” Norrington turned away, pretending to examine the swords that were racked nearby. He longed for something alcoholic to make this easier but not rum, never rum again. “To answer your questions, Anamaria and Mr. Gibbs are still with the Pearl and, yes, they had several adventures while I was with them. But the news I bear is not all happy. Captain Sparrow—Jack was killed in a skirmish with the HMS Valiant. He was returning to the Pearl from the other ship and was shot in the belly. It was not a pleasant death.” “No,” Turner’s voice held such raw grief that Norrington turned back to look at him. The young man had lost all color in his face. The pupils of his eyes had gone very wide. For a moment, Norrington feared that Will would faint on him. “No, not Jack. He-Oh, God.” _What would Jack do?_ He asked himself. Without further thought, he stepped forward and took Turner into his arms. It was, at once, the most awkward sensation yet it was absolutely the right thing to do. He felt the young blacksmith sob before he heard it. Tears started from his own eyes again—he’d thought he was quit of them days ago but he was wrong. When he’d ordered Gillette to have the flag dropped to half-staff in Sparrow’s honor, Gillette had stared at him in astonishment. When, later, Matthew had asked him privately what had transpired, he could only say that Sparrow was a worthy adversary and deserving of that one honor. Gillette, he knew, would not understand what Sparrow meant to him any more than he would understand what Sparrow had _done_ to him. In front of Gillette, he’d been able to maintain his composure because it was expected. Were these tears shed for similar reasons? After a moment, Turner gulped noisily and pushed away slightly, using the kerchief about his wrist to wipe at the tear-stains on his cheeks. Slowly, he raised his eyes to meet the Commodore’s. There was an agony in those eyes that matched the one in Norrington’s heart. Will Turner’s face changed with the recognition that Norrington had offered him comfort at word of Jack’s death. “It can’t be. Is this some sort of trick? Are you trying to catch him by using me to get to him?” “I wish, Will, that that was the case. Believe me, I would give anything to see Jack Sparrow grin at me again. But he’s gone. I saw his body burn with my own eyes. He-,” Norrington hesitated then said, “I loved him, Will. I am here to give you this message only because I loved him enough to do as he asked. I’ll never love anyone like I loved him. “He asked me, just before the battle, to give you this message. He said, ‘Tell him I loved him and that I wish him well.’ You had his heart at your disposal, Mr. Turner. I hope you understand what that meant.” The dark eyes that met James Norrington’s tore at his heart. “As he had mine.” The sobs woke Norrington. He scrubbed at his face and sat forward in the chair. On the bunk, Jack snored, occasionally a little wince of pain crossed his face. James sighed with relief and shuddered at the thought of the nightmare. He wasn’t sure which would be worse—if Will Turner didn’t feel the same way toward Jack as he did or if Will Turner did. One thing was certain, though, Anamaria was right. If Jamie Norrington, pirate, stayed aboard the Pearl, Jack Sparrow was going to die. James Norrington was not meant by the fates to be a pirate. “Jamie? Love, are ye awake?” Jack’s hoarse voice brought his head up. He grabbed for the pirate’s hand and leaned down to place his elbows on the bed beside the patient. “Yes, I’m awake. Please lay still. The ball went all the way through but you’ve lost a lot of blood. We’ve sutured you closed but it wouldn’t take much for those to tear out.” “I guess makin’ love one last time’s out o’ the question, hmmm?” Jack grinned then coughed. At his moan, James lifted aside his blankets to check the sutures. They held. “Just rest, Jack. I promise you, I won’t let you go without making love to you one last time. But you need to recover a bit first.” “Let me go? Is there somethin’ ye’re not tellin’ me, love?” The look of distress in Jack’s eyes, even muted as it was by pain and confusion, made Norrington shake his head. “No. Don’t worry about it. Just rest.” Jack shook his head. “Nay, love, I cannot. Ye hafta hear what I have to say. If I die, ye need t’ know why ye’re here.” “Why I’m here?” Norrington asked. Jack nodded slowly and sighed, his eyes drifting closed briefly then opened with a slight jolt. “Sorry. How long was I out?” “A second or two. Jack, you don’t have to--.” With effort, Jack placed a finger across his lips. “Aye, I do. Gov’nor Swann, did he let ye read the letter from St. Thomas?” Norrington shook his head. “No.” “That’s ‘cause there weren’t no letter, lad. Not t’ him anyway. Look in the desk, upper right drawer. Go on. Read it.” James did as he was ordered. He recognized the seal of the Governor of Port Royal on the parchment and felt his stomach turn. He opened the letter. Captain Jack Sparrow: I will spare you the pleasantries as I believe we have neither the time nor the stomach for such things. As you are aware, my daughter Elizabeth means to marry a blacksmith. While I have nothing personal against the boy, the fact remains that he is far below her socially. Commodore Norrington would be a more suitable match for her in many ways, socially, especially. Therein lies the problem. The Turner boy has intuitively divined how to woo the girl whereas James Norrington seems somewhat at a loss to deal with her. I believe that her choice to stand with Turner against the Commodore broke his heart in some manner. And so, I turn to you, good man that you are and pirate that you may be, for assistance. I want you to take Commodore Norrington in hand and teach him how to properly treat the object of his affection. Rumor has it that you are ‘familiar’ with a variety of forms of love-making and that your seductive powers are quite persuasive. I encourage you to do whatever is necessary to make a sow’s ear into a silk purse, a perfume-scented romance red purse preferably. If you will agree to this assignment, I will pardon you from all acts of piracy committed between your rescue of my daughter Elizabeth when she fell into the water and your most recent escape from the noose. If you agree to this, meet my representative in Tortuga at a tavern called the Fleeing Lass. You will know him by a red rose in his lapel. Sincerely, Weatherby Swann, Esq. Governor Port Royal, Jamaica Norrington wanted to be furious. He wanted to be filled with hate. He wanted anything other than to feel the anguish of a broken heart again. He glanced over at Jack whose eyes were set on him with a look that revealed nothing. “Do you mean to say,” Norrington whispered so that his voice wouldn’t betray him. “Do you really mean to say that this was just a job to you? Nothing more than an assignment to be performed in exchange for a pardon?” Jack said nothing and let his eyes slide away. After a few silent seconds he said, “Aye, at first. I nearly decided to return ye to the governor after Trinidad, thinkin’ there was no hope fer ye. After all, ye broke Jeannette’s heart! I didn’t know how ye could do such a thing and still be human. But then-.” “But then I made love to you,” Norrington said, suddenly understanding. “I changed everything when I reacted with my heart and-and not my uniform, right?” Jack smiled slightly and nodded. “Aye. It took me by surprise, love, and I knew it meant I’d finally cracked that shell o’ yers. I think it’s time now ye went back an’ gave Elizabeff another chance.” Norrington glanced back at him to see the pirate had turned his face away. He started to reach for him, to turn his face back, but pulled back. He felt betrayed and hurt but also grateful. Jack Sparrow could not blame James Norrington for breaking his heart; he had only himself to blame. _So, I’m to burden a man I’ve come to care for deeply with more guilt, shame and anguish,_ Norrington chided himself. _I’ll go back to Port Royal and do everything in my power to win Elizabeth. In some fashion, I’ll make sure that Will Turner ends up in Jack Sparrow’s hands. Jack can take things from there._ But until that happened, he had to keep Jack alive, get him well and restore his broken heart. He heard Jack snore softly. “Well, no worries, then,” Norrington muttered bitterly. *** Chapter 10 - Conclusion Jack woke next trying to figure out why his weaselly black guts were afire with pain. A whiff of gunpowder in the air, residue from the battle, brought things into focus for him. Fighting off the Valiant, back to back with Jamie, had felt so good. What Charles had been thinking, charging over to the naval vessel, he had no idea. He himself, though, had made the mistake of allowing the Valiant to catch them in the first place. He’d wanted to see Norrington’s reaction when they took on a navy ship. Now, he was going to pay the ultimate price for that mistake. He would lose Jamie. He prayed to the lady of the sea that he would die before James Norrington walked off the Pearl with that bloody uniform on. When he received the letter from Swann, he’d been shocked. First, that the letter had gotten to him at all. Second, that the Governor would ask _him_ to do such a thing. Normally, Jack was the first to suspect hidden depths from a person. He’d only been wrong a handful of times (though at least one of those times had cost him the Pearl for near ten years). He’d seen the look in Norrington’s eyes, marked it, and when James had visited him in his cell before his execution, taken unreserved advantage of it. But Governor Swann surprised him. Apparently, Swann had also seen the looks and had understood on some level that there was a subtle seduction going on. Jack sighed and cursed mentally. The target of that seduction was Will, of course, but like so much grape-shot there had been multiple victims. It wasn’t until he’d seen how blissfully happy Will was with Elizabeth that he’d realized the Sparrow charm had failed. It was why he could only say “nice hat” to Will in parting. The disappointment and realization that Will wasn’t going to come with him left a horrendous taste in his mouth. After the fiasco on the island with Elizabeth, especially after the wench had burnt the rum, he’d been waiting to give her some grief. The whole little spiel about “it would never have worked between us” was just that. The horrified look on her face had been worth those long seconds dangling on the end of that rope, dancing on that sword. But then she’d smiled at him that wicked little grin as if to say she would have her revenge. Well, she did—she had Will in the end. He heard the chair creak and realized that someone was in the room with him. A hand, long-fingered and masculine, rested briefly on his shoulder. Norrington would, of course, feel obligated to do his duty toward Jack, even if he hated him. Jack wanted desperately to beg James for his forgiveness but he couldn’t trust his own open mouth. He was relatively certain that forgiveness was out of reach. The pain took more out of Jack than he wanted to admit. He found himself slipping back into unconsciousness with a strange mixture of reluctance and gratitude. He heard Norrington say his name but was too far gone to respond. *** “Jack?” There was no answer. He could see the chest rise and fall with every breath so he knew the pirate wasn’t dead. He put a hand out to stroke the black hair. He had never been so hungry, so greedy, for anything in his life as he was at this moment. He wanted to experience Jack as completely as possible before he had to leave him; the memories would have to last a lifetime. Norrington knew he should be incensed that Jack had been “hired” to teach him to be a better lover. The truth, though, was that he simply could not do anything other than love Jack. He’d seen the expression in Jack’s eyes more than once when they were alone. He may have been doing a job prior to the incident with Jeannette but, after that, there was never a doubt in his mind that Jack had deep feelings for him. He remembered in the Port Royal gaol how hearing Jack’s husky voice call out “William” during their love-making had cut him deeply. But he’d never called out that name again, not during any of the intimate moments they’d shared. If Jack did not love him with the same intensity that he loved Jack, then Jack at least had loved him enough. *** It was a bit over a fortnight later when the Black Pearl, under cover of darkness, slid into the little bay about a league up the shore from Port Royal. Two pirates and a Commodore of the fleet loaded into one of the small boats that had been lowered for them. Jack was still not recovered enough to be rowing a boat so Gibbs agreed to handle that particular chore. Norrington rubbed at his bare face and pulled a bit at the cravat, trying to loosen it. The uniform felt stiff and awkward. When he looked up at Jack, the pirate refused to meet his eyes. He wanted to say something profound, something that would reveal to Jack what he felt. Yet the silence remained. When they got within feet of the shore, Jack and Norrington hopped out to pull the boat up onto the sand. Gibbs busied himself with something in the boat and Norrington grabbed Jack’s hand. The pirate stiffened, trying to pull away, but James held tighter. “Please, walk with me for a moment. I-We need to talk.” Jack acquiesced. His silence was terribly unnerving: Little talking, no humming and definitely no singing. James tried to remember the last time he’d heard Jack’s voice. He had the impression that it had been just after he’d read the governor’s letter. _That couldn’t be right_, he thought. As they paced evenly down the beach, Norrington continued to hold Jack’s hand. Fingers that once would have interlaced with his, however, lay in an unwilling clump in his palm. Finally, he stopped and turned to face the pirate. “I know you’re angry with me for-for deciding to return to Port Royal. I am sorry that this has hurt you so but I believe it is for the best,” Norrington paused, hoping Jack would look up but it didn’t happen. James plunged on while he had his courage up. “I want you to understand that you have given me a most precious gift. Yes, I admit, the governor’s actions were inexcusable but-you did the right thing, Jack.” Jack’s eyes met his, squinting as he tried to see into Norrington’s heart. “What did you say?” “I said, you did the right thing. You helped me see that beneath this uniform, the heart of a man still beats and that he-I should go after that which I love,” Norrington held Jack’s gaze and prayed he would be able to fool the pirate. “I have to pursue Elizabeth’s hand just as doggedly as you pursued the Pearl. I love her and I must not give in until I make her my wife. I have you to thank for showing me that.” Jack swallowed hard, hoping the tears burning his eyes would not become obvious to the Commodore. He lowered his face so that Norrington wouldn’t see. He wanted to cry out “I can make you happy; forget about her.” He wanted to pull his pistol and force Norrington back to the boat. Most of all, he just wanted the pain in his heart to stop. He lost Will to the bitch and now, now he was losing Jamie to her. She didn’t need both of them, did she? And yet, Jack knew deep-down that James Norrington was not destined to be a pirate for the rest of his days. Without warning, James lifted Jack’s face and pressed a kiss to his lips. As he slid his arms around Sparrow to pull him close, he felt Jack respond, the delicate hands of the pirate clutching at his shoulders and back as if trying to climb him. When the kiss ended, Jack buried his face against Norrington’s jacket. James felt the pirate shaking with emotion and he had to fight himself to finish what he had started. “You realize, of course,” Norrington hoped his words would reach Jack’s heart. “If I succeed in winning Elizabeth away from Mr. Turner, he will be heartbroken. Someone will need to step in and-and help him?” Slowly, Jack’s eyes met his and Norrington was gratified to see the notion make those eyes begin to spark wickedly again. “D’ ye think so?” Norrington smiled serenely and nodded. “I think so. Mr. Turner has too much of his father in him to be content to be a mere blacksmith. Someone needs to teach him the ropes, as it were.” Jack smiled in response though Norrington saw the tears that rode, unshed, on his kohl-covered lower lids. “Aye, I guess that would be true then. Ye know, Norrie, I cannot leave ye here without at least one little piece o’ advice.” Norrington stepped back at that, throwing his shoulders back to assume a military stance. “And what would that be, Capt-Mister Sparrow? Jack stepped into him, leaning up so close that he could almost have kissed him, his hands fingering the wool of his uniform lapels as he had almost 2 months ago. “Know thy enemy, love, know ‘im better than ye know yerself.” “Aye, sir,” James whispered then planted a chaste peck on Jack’s lips before turning to stride away from him toward Port Royal. After one last lingering look, Jack began to hum quietly and headed for the boat to return to his Pearl. -Fin- |
