Norrington's Revenge
I did sit down and start writing my Norrington fic yesterday. The voices and images would not stop playing in my head, and I know from long experience that at that point the only thing to be done is to write it out.
What's behind the cut is mostly an intro: testing the characters in this situation, exploring their emotions, checking to find out if there really is something here of substance to write. It actually didn't take that long to get to a stopping point, and this may be enough: enough to tap into Norrington's rage and his perspective on things without actually going into what he has planned.
To be honest, I'm not yet sure if it's Norrington or me who stopped here. The voices in my head have quieted, so this may be enough. If not, the pages are saved in my computer, so I can always come back.
The pirate crew was a wretched, filthy lot - just like the dozens of others James Norrington had seen over the years. He barely glanced at them. They meant nothing. Live or die, it would matter little, even to themselves, he mused. The three standing a little apart, shackled and under close guard, were another matter entirely. Still, he didn’t grant them the dignity of paying attention to them. Turning to his first officer, he said, “Confine the two men in the brig. Keep them chained and under guard. Bring the woman to my cabin. I want her chained and under guard as well.”
The man looked surprised. The captain had never ordered a prisoner taken to his quarters before. But he knew better than to ask questions. “Aye, sir!”
Without giving the prisoners another glance, Captain James Norrington, privateer in the service of the Crown, strolled across the deck to where another of his officers was making a catalog of the captured ship’s goods.
* * * * * * * *
Elizabeth Swann was still worthy of her namesake, Norrington realized - although he was sure she had traded her elegant patronymic for the more common “Turner,” and she now resembled a hawk more than the swan. The hard life of a Caribbean pirate showed a bit in a few fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, her tanned skin, a tightness around her mouth, and the coarseness of her hands, but she was still beautiful - especially with the fire in her eyes threatening to leap out and consume him where he stood.
“You may go,” he said to the lieutenant who had been guarding her, and busied himself making a notation in his log while the younger man made his exit, shutting the door softly behind him. He continued to ignore Elizabeth, and was unsurprised when she immediately demanded, “James Norrington! What are you doing?”
He did not answer her for several seconds, cleaning his pen and stowing his log before turning to face her. “I am doing my duty, Miss Swann - or should I say, Mrs. Turner?” He paused as if to consider a new thought. “Or is it Mrs. Sparrow?”
“It’s Captain Swann,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Indeed? I would congratulate you, Captain, were it not for the use to which you have put your new authority.” He stood opposite her, forcing her to look up to meet his cool gaze. “But I am hardly surprised.”
“What do you want with us?” she demanded.
Norrington ignored her question. “Do you know what my earliest memory of you is, Elizabeth?”
She stared at him, then said, “No.”
“It was when you and Governor Swann first boarded my ship for the crossing. As soon as your father introduced us, you piped up in your little girl voice and asked, ‘Lieutenant, will there be pirates?’” Elizabeth flushed. “I started to try to reassure you, but you quickly made it clear that the prospect of pirates did not frighten you at all. In fact, meeting one was your fondest hope.” He considered her for a few moments, then said, “I daresay that the best day of your life was the day Barbossa attacked Port Royal and carried you off, setting you on the path to becoming a pirate yourself.”
She looked exasperated. “What has that to do with today, Com- Captain Norrington?”
“Nothing and everything, Elizabeth. You see: despite what I learned of you at our first meeting, I persisted in thinking of you as a gentlewoman, a young lady of breeding and refinement. I continued to think of you thus even after you interfered with the hanging of Jack Sparrow. It was only after our paths crossed again, on Tortuga, and I saw the way you looked at Sparrow, and the way you adapted so naturally to life on his ship, that I realized I had deceived myself about you for years. For all the years I had known you. Your father may be one of the best, most honorable men I know, but you are a pirate, and always have been one at heart. You were just waiting for the opportune moment to throw off the restrictions of society and take to the high seas.”
“What’s wrong with that? You’ve chosen such a path yourself.”
He laughed without humor. “My dear Elizabeth. I was forced into this life after several mistakes in judgment lost me my commission. My solace, my honor, lies in the fact that I am not, in fact, a pirate. I am a privateer. I serve the crown, and thus society, with my activities. You are no more than a common criminal.” His tone hardened. “And as an officer of the crown, it is my duty to see you - and your crew - brought to justice.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me.”
His smile was nasty. “Quite the contrary, my dear Elizabeth. I have every intention of making you suffer. You and both your lovers.”
Her mouth made a little “o” of surprise.
“Of course I know you have them both. Do you think a woman of your. . . distinction. . . goes unnoticed in these waters? Your appetites are legendary - although I don’t credit all the stories. Some of your reported activities are anatomically impossible, I suspect. But that you take both Sparrow and Turner in turn - or both at once - yes, I believe it. You are, after all, a pirate - and so concepts like faithfulness - or even discretion - are foreign to your nature.”
She surged out of the chair, rushing him with fists raised, the chain gathered in her hands to throttle him. He easily stepped around her, caught her from behind, and slammed her face down onto the table, keeping his hand between her shoulder blades to immobilize her. “I’m disappointed, Elizabeth. Surely you can fight better than that.” She twisted and kicked, but he simply stepped to one side and increased the pressure on her back.
“As I was saying. . . I have every intention of hurting you and both your lovers. But I have no intention of seeing you hang. That would be a waste of beauty - and bring shame on your father. No, you and I may both know that you are Captain Swann. . . but Sparrow or Turner will have the honor of being named captain of your ship in my official report. One of them will bear the punishment for piracy: being hanged on the deck of his own ship.”
“No!” Elizabeth gasped, pushing futilely against his hold.
“Yes, Elizabeth. . .” He leaned closer to her, close enough to smell the scents of the sea and her own sweat rising from her straining body. “And you get to choose which of them it will be.”
“No! I won’t!”
“You’ll choose, Elizabeth, or they both will hang. There are more than enough writs outstanding against each of them. I don’t even have to appoint one of them captain to justify it. But I want you alive, so one will have the honor of dying for you. The other will swing for his sins alone.”
“I can’t. . . You can’t make me choose. . .”
“You’re right. I can’t make you say one name or the other. But I can and will hang both Turner and Sparrow without hesitation if you refuse.”
“Please. . . James. . .” Her voice broke. “Please. . . don’t do this. . . There must be something I can do. . . I’ll do anything you ask. . . ”
He let out a bark of laughter. “You offered me such a bargain once before, Elizabeth. You promised me that if I saved Turner you would marry me.” He grabbed her hair and jerked her head up and back. “You made a fool of me once with your bargains. Never again!” He shoved her back down again, taking black satisfaction in her cry as she hit the table, and the soft sound of weeping that followed.
What's behind the cut is mostly an intro: testing the characters in this situation, exploring their emotions, checking to find out if there really is something here of substance to write. It actually didn't take that long to get to a stopping point, and this may be enough: enough to tap into Norrington's rage and his perspective on things without actually going into what he has planned.
To be honest, I'm not yet sure if it's Norrington or me who stopped here. The voices in my head have quieted, so this may be enough. If not, the pages are saved in my computer, so I can always come back.
The pirate crew was a wretched, filthy lot - just like the dozens of others James Norrington had seen over the years. He barely glanced at them. They meant nothing. Live or die, it would matter little, even to themselves, he mused. The three standing a little apart, shackled and under close guard, were another matter entirely. Still, he didn’t grant them the dignity of paying attention to them. Turning to his first officer, he said, “Confine the two men in the brig. Keep them chained and under guard. Bring the woman to my cabin. I want her chained and under guard as well.”
The man looked surprised. The captain had never ordered a prisoner taken to his quarters before. But he knew better than to ask questions. “Aye, sir!”
Without giving the prisoners another glance, Captain James Norrington, privateer in the service of the Crown, strolled across the deck to where another of his officers was making a catalog of the captured ship’s goods.
* * * * * * * *
Elizabeth Swann was still worthy of her namesake, Norrington realized - although he was sure she had traded her elegant patronymic for the more common “Turner,” and she now resembled a hawk more than the swan. The hard life of a Caribbean pirate showed a bit in a few fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes, her tanned skin, a tightness around her mouth, and the coarseness of her hands, but she was still beautiful - especially with the fire in her eyes threatening to leap out and consume him where he stood.
“You may go,” he said to the lieutenant who had been guarding her, and busied himself making a notation in his log while the younger man made his exit, shutting the door softly behind him. He continued to ignore Elizabeth, and was unsurprised when she immediately demanded, “James Norrington! What are you doing?”
He did not answer her for several seconds, cleaning his pen and stowing his log before turning to face her. “I am doing my duty, Miss Swann - or should I say, Mrs. Turner?” He paused as if to consider a new thought. “Or is it Mrs. Sparrow?”
“It’s Captain Swann,” she said through clenched teeth.
“Indeed? I would congratulate you, Captain, were it not for the use to which you have put your new authority.” He stood opposite her, forcing her to look up to meet his cool gaze. “But I am hardly surprised.”
“What do you want with us?” she demanded.
Norrington ignored her question. “Do you know what my earliest memory of you is, Elizabeth?”
She stared at him, then said, “No.”
“It was when you and Governor Swann first boarded my ship for the crossing. As soon as your father introduced us, you piped up in your little girl voice and asked, ‘Lieutenant, will there be pirates?’” Elizabeth flushed. “I started to try to reassure you, but you quickly made it clear that the prospect of pirates did not frighten you at all. In fact, meeting one was your fondest hope.” He considered her for a few moments, then said, “I daresay that the best day of your life was the day Barbossa attacked Port Royal and carried you off, setting you on the path to becoming a pirate yourself.”
She looked exasperated. “What has that to do with today, Com- Captain Norrington?”
“Nothing and everything, Elizabeth. You see: despite what I learned of you at our first meeting, I persisted in thinking of you as a gentlewoman, a young lady of breeding and refinement. I continued to think of you thus even after you interfered with the hanging of Jack Sparrow. It was only after our paths crossed again, on Tortuga, and I saw the way you looked at Sparrow, and the way you adapted so naturally to life on his ship, that I realized I had deceived myself about you for years. For all the years I had known you. Your father may be one of the best, most honorable men I know, but you are a pirate, and always have been one at heart. You were just waiting for the opportune moment to throw off the restrictions of society and take to the high seas.”
“What’s wrong with that? You’ve chosen such a path yourself.”
He laughed without humor. “My dear Elizabeth. I was forced into this life after several mistakes in judgment lost me my commission. My solace, my honor, lies in the fact that I am not, in fact, a pirate. I am a privateer. I serve the crown, and thus society, with my activities. You are no more than a common criminal.” His tone hardened. “And as an officer of the crown, it is my duty to see you - and your crew - brought to justice.”
“You wouldn’t hurt me.”
His smile was nasty. “Quite the contrary, my dear Elizabeth. I have every intention of making you suffer. You and both your lovers.”
Her mouth made a little “o” of surprise.
“Of course I know you have them both. Do you think a woman of your. . . distinction. . . goes unnoticed in these waters? Your appetites are legendary - although I don’t credit all the stories. Some of your reported activities are anatomically impossible, I suspect. But that you take both Sparrow and Turner in turn - or both at once - yes, I believe it. You are, after all, a pirate - and so concepts like faithfulness - or even discretion - are foreign to your nature.”
She surged out of the chair, rushing him with fists raised, the chain gathered in her hands to throttle him. He easily stepped around her, caught her from behind, and slammed her face down onto the table, keeping his hand between her shoulder blades to immobilize her. “I’m disappointed, Elizabeth. Surely you can fight better than that.” She twisted and kicked, but he simply stepped to one side and increased the pressure on her back.
“As I was saying. . . I have every intention of hurting you and both your lovers. But I have no intention of seeing you hang. That would be a waste of beauty - and bring shame on your father. No, you and I may both know that you are Captain Swann. . . but Sparrow or Turner will have the honor of being named captain of your ship in my official report. One of them will bear the punishment for piracy: being hanged on the deck of his own ship.”
“No!” Elizabeth gasped, pushing futilely against his hold.
“Yes, Elizabeth. . .” He leaned closer to her, close enough to smell the scents of the sea and her own sweat rising from her straining body. “And you get to choose which of them it will be.”
“No! I won’t!”
“You’ll choose, Elizabeth, or they both will hang. There are more than enough writs outstanding against each of them. I don’t even have to appoint one of them captain to justify it. But I want you alive, so one will have the honor of dying for you. The other will swing for his sins alone.”
“I can’t. . . You can’t make me choose. . .”
“You’re right. I can’t make you say one name or the other. But I can and will hang both Turner and Sparrow without hesitation if you refuse.”
“Please. . . James. . .” Her voice broke. “Please. . . don’t do this. . . There must be something I can do. . . I’ll do anything you ask. . . ”
He let out a bark of laughter. “You offered me such a bargain once before, Elizabeth. You promised me that if I saved Turner you would marry me.” He grabbed her hair and jerked her head up and back. “You made a fool of me once with your bargains. Never again!” He shoved her back down again, taking black satisfaction in her cry as she hit the table, and the soft sound of weeping that followed.