(no subject)
James Norrington sat in the chair at his desk staring out of the window, completely motionless save the calm beating of his own heart. He had returned from the court martial trial some three hours ago, but he barely registered the passing of time except solely as the movement of the sun as it sunk over Port Royal toward the horizon.
He felt oddly light, as though his body and soul were slightly out of synch and he was hovering slightly rather than truly sitting. He couldn't ever remember just sitting and watching the sun move across the heavens, not even as a child. He'd never really paid any more attention to nature than was necessary to note the weather, predict storms, and navigate at sea. James was not an idle man, nor was he predisposed to reflection. He was a man of action, always working away at something. There was always paperwork to be filled, officers to manage, something to be done.
As the sky darkened, he wondered why he'd never really noticed how the colors bleed into one another and change as the sun sinks below the edge of the world, painting the sky with reds, oranges, and purples before disappearing, and then one by one the stars would appear. It was startlingly beautiful and frightening at the same time. He briefly felt as though the sun would never return and ached for the loss of it though he knew in the logical part of his mind that it would return in the morning as it had since the birth of time.
He also knew that being relieved of duty and dismissed from the Navy was not the end of life on Earth but he still felt like he was on the other side of Armageddon. He also knew that the full reality of it had not hit him yet, and the next few days were probably not going to be pleasant ones. There were things that would have to be dealt with, but he couldn't think about them right now. He certainly wasn't going to ponder how he'd spend the rest of his life now. He wasn't a poor man by any means, but he was still young and certainly couldn't live the rest of his life on the savings and few meager investments he currently had, nevermind that the Navy had been his life since he was thirteen years old. But that could wait. At least until tomorrow.
He wondered what Elizabeth and her young husband were doing at this moment. Probably settling down to a simple but warm meal prepared by Elizabeth herself. They had a young girl who came to their home twice a week to do the cleaning, but James knew that Will Turner most certainly could not afford a cook as well, even if he did make a respectable living from his fine swords and other goods. He'd heard from one of his own servants that Elizabeth may be expecting a child. He was happy for them, really, but he still couldn't help but wonder how his life would be now had he married Elizabeth. Sweet, fair Elizabeth. She had such spirit. Perhaps she belonged with the Turner boy. They were alike in many ways. He knew in his heart that she never would have been happy as the wife of a military man, but, as he had before proposing to her, he now still occasionally indulged in the fantasy that they would somehow have been the perfect husband and wife and lived happily ever after. If only those blasted pirates hadn't interfered...
Pirates. Isn't that what started all of this? A small crew of petty pirates killed his father at sea and less than a year later, James was employed as cabin boy under a captain of the Royal Navy. It was odd how the unexpected turns in his life could be linked back to pirates. He wondered where Sparrow was right now, what was the old bastard doing? Was he still alive, roaming the seas on that precious Black Pearl of his with his scabbarous crew behind him? It had been scarcely six months since James made the foolish decision to let the man go free, but now it felt to him like it had been in another lifetime. Oh how he hated Sparrow.
And if he were honest with himself, oh how he envied him. To have such freedom was something James Norrington could not even begin to fathom. His life had been sewn into a set of strict rules for all of his life: first his father's and then the navy's. Every day had been planned out carefully with schedules to follow and clear rules and well-defined responsibilities. What would it be like to live with no schedules? No responsibility to anyone save oneself? No rules save the unwritten, mysterious, and bendable rules of the pirate's world? He could never understand how those ships full of anarachists managed to get anything done. After all, the heathens didn't even have a real captain. The "captain" could be voted in or out like the leader of a boys' gang. They really were like children, after all. It was not a life that any self-respecting adult man would ever desire. No, not at all...
He felt oddly light, as though his body and soul were slightly out of synch and he was hovering slightly rather than truly sitting. He couldn't ever remember just sitting and watching the sun move across the heavens, not even as a child. He'd never really paid any more attention to nature than was necessary to note the weather, predict storms, and navigate at sea. James was not an idle man, nor was he predisposed to reflection. He was a man of action, always working away at something. There was always paperwork to be filled, officers to manage, something to be done.
As the sky darkened, he wondered why he'd never really noticed how the colors bleed into one another and change as the sun sinks below the edge of the world, painting the sky with reds, oranges, and purples before disappearing, and then one by one the stars would appear. It was startlingly beautiful and frightening at the same time. He briefly felt as though the sun would never return and ached for the loss of it though he knew in the logical part of his mind that it would return in the morning as it had since the birth of time.
He also knew that being relieved of duty and dismissed from the Navy was not the end of life on Earth but he still felt like he was on the other side of Armageddon. He also knew that the full reality of it had not hit him yet, and the next few days were probably not going to be pleasant ones. There were things that would have to be dealt with, but he couldn't think about them right now. He certainly wasn't going to ponder how he'd spend the rest of his life now. He wasn't a poor man by any means, but he was still young and certainly couldn't live the rest of his life on the savings and few meager investments he currently had, nevermind that the Navy had been his life since he was thirteen years old. But that could wait. At least until tomorrow.
He wondered what Elizabeth and her young husband were doing at this moment. Probably settling down to a simple but warm meal prepared by Elizabeth herself. They had a young girl who came to their home twice a week to do the cleaning, but James knew that Will Turner most certainly could not afford a cook as well, even if he did make a respectable living from his fine swords and other goods. He'd heard from one of his own servants that Elizabeth may be expecting a child. He was happy for them, really, but he still couldn't help but wonder how his life would be now had he married Elizabeth. Sweet, fair Elizabeth. She had such spirit. Perhaps she belonged with the Turner boy. They were alike in many ways. He knew in his heart that she never would have been happy as the wife of a military man, but, as he had before proposing to her, he now still occasionally indulged in the fantasy that they would somehow have been the perfect husband and wife and lived happily ever after. If only those blasted pirates hadn't interfered...
Pirates. Isn't that what started all of this? A small crew of petty pirates killed his father at sea and less than a year later, James was employed as cabin boy under a captain of the Royal Navy. It was odd how the unexpected turns in his life could be linked back to pirates. He wondered where Sparrow was right now, what was the old bastard doing? Was he still alive, roaming the seas on that precious Black Pearl of his with his scabbarous crew behind him? It had been scarcely six months since James made the foolish decision to let the man go free, but now it felt to him like it had been in another lifetime. Oh how he hated Sparrow.
And if he were honest with himself, oh how he envied him. To have such freedom was something James Norrington could not even begin to fathom. His life had been sewn into a set of strict rules for all of his life: first his father's and then the navy's. Every day had been planned out carefully with schedules to follow and clear rules and well-defined responsibilities. What would it be like to live with no schedules? No responsibility to anyone save oneself? No rules save the unwritten, mysterious, and bendable rules of the pirate's world? He could never understand how those ships full of anarachists managed to get anything done. After all, the heathens didn't even have a real captain. The "captain" could be voted in or out like the leader of a boys' gang. They really were like children, after all. It was not a life that any self-respecting adult man would ever desire. No, not at all...