Same Story, Different Version
This fic is rated: PG
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: James Norrington, Davy Jones
Summary: they have more in common than Norrington realizes
Spoilers: for AWE
Word Count: 280
Feedback: yes, please! Concrit welcomed.
Distribution: archiving, linking or remixing ok, just credit me and drop me a line!
Cross-Posted were_lemur, pirategasm, potc_fic, potc_canon_fic, davington, norrington_love, one_norrington
My FanFic Masterlist
Disclaimer: PotC belongs to Disney. Characters will be played with nicely and returned to them in good condition when I'm done. No infringement is intended, please don't sue me!
"You love her."
Norrington forced himself to tear his gaze away from Elizabeth's retreating form as she was herded to the brig with the rest of her crew. He could not give the Dutchman's monstrous captain any hold over him. "It seems I never knew her."
Jones chuckled darkly. "You'd be wiser to cut out your own heart."
"Over a woman?" He'd meant it to be dismissive, but somehow, it sounded curious to his own ears.
"Not any woman. I have heard rumors that there are some who will stay loyal to the men they love, who will be there when they return from the sea."
He would not admit the hopes he'd once had, the persistent fantasy of returning to Port Royal after weeks or months of hunting pirates to find Elizabeth -- Mrs. Norrington, she'd be -- waiting at dockside for him. Of her running up the gangplank, filling him with a pleased embarrassment as she flung herself into his arms. Or later, coming aboard at a more sedate pace, holding his son's tiny hand as the boy toddled toward him.
He shook his head. A fantasy was all it had been.
"How long did ye do your duty, Admiral? How long did she allow you to hope?"
Duty? What did the man -- the monster -- know of duty? "At least I have not abandoned my post."
"And when even that fails to satisfy?"
Norrington thought of a heart in a chest and a man who had been, truly, a friend. Who, if Elizabeth was right, had died at the hands of those he now served. "Then, it would seem, I have nothing left to live for."
Fandom: Pirates of the Caribbean
Characters: James Norrington, Davy Jones
Summary: they have more in common than Norrington realizes
Spoilers: for AWE
Word Count: 280
Feedback: yes, please! Concrit welcomed.
Distribution: archiving, linking or remixing ok, just credit me and drop me a line!
Cross-Posted were_lemur, pirategasm, potc_fic, potc_canon_fic, davington, norrington_love, one_norrington
My FanFic Masterlist
Disclaimer: PotC belongs to Disney. Characters will be played with nicely and returned to them in good condition when I'm done. No infringement is intended, please don't sue me!
"You love her."
Norrington forced himself to tear his gaze away from Elizabeth's retreating form as she was herded to the brig with the rest of her crew. He could not give the Dutchman's monstrous captain any hold over him. "It seems I never knew her."
Jones chuckled darkly. "You'd be wiser to cut out your own heart."
"Over a woman?" He'd meant it to be dismissive, but somehow, it sounded curious to his own ears.
"Not any woman. I have heard rumors that there are some who will stay loyal to the men they love, who will be there when they return from the sea."
He would not admit the hopes he'd once had, the persistent fantasy of returning to Port Royal after weeks or months of hunting pirates to find Elizabeth -- Mrs. Norrington, she'd be -- waiting at dockside for him. Of her running up the gangplank, filling him with a pleased embarrassment as she flung herself into his arms. Or later, coming aboard at a more sedate pace, holding his son's tiny hand as the boy toddled toward him.
He shook his head. A fantasy was all it had been.
"How long did ye do your duty, Admiral? How long did she allow you to hope?"
Duty? What did the man -- the monster -- know of duty? "At least I have not abandoned my post."
"And when even that fails to satisfy?"
Norrington thought of a heart in a chest and a man who had been, truly, a friend. Who, if Elizabeth was right, had died at the hands of those he now served. "Then, it would seem, I have nothing left to live for."