[LAS # 4 -- Humility] Virtuous Sin
Title: Virtuous Sin
Rating: R (for good measure...)
Word Count: 444
Characters: James Norrington, Lord Beckett, Lawrence Norrington
Pairing: Beckington
Warnings: Slash, Implication of child abuse
Summary: James likes the fit of his new virtue
Author's Notes: Written for the last author standing challenge at cutler_beckett . Go there. Read great stories. Vote for your favorite. Also, never thought I would make Beckington sappy. Oops.
As a child, James Norrington had always been taught to take pride in his accomplishments. It was a lesson well-learnt from his heavy-handed Admiral father, who would frown as he told James that being a Norrington was a gift unto itself, and that James should strive to bring honor to his family name. Humility was a virtue for the weak and the poor--not a Norrington, who had something to be proud of.
And so it was that James worked his way through the ranks of the Royal Navy, earning each new promotion or decoration through his own sweat and determination--Lieutenant, Commodore, Pirate Hunter--titles he wore as easily as the trappings of the rank, always certain of who he was and that he deserved everything that was bestowed upon him.
It was his pride that sent him chasing after Sparrow, leaving his ship and his crew on the bed of the Caribbean, and landing him in the filthy muck of Tortuga.
It was his pride that found him standing in tattered rags in an opulent office before a porcelain man-child, bargaining for his life, his name, for the heart of a demon.
But it was something else that held him there, that kept him stalking back to that opulent office night after night, that compelled him onto his knees before his Lordship.
For somewhere along the way, James had learned that pride was a heavy burden to bear. In the dark shadows of his Lordship's office, little was expected of him beyond obedience and humility. And in exchange, James was given more than he had ever received as a proud Norrington. The accruements came as well--the rank of Admiral, a fine ship, clothes, the things he had once relished, but none of it compared to the slow trace of silken fingers down the long line of his spine, or small teeth against his neck when he was on the verge of release, or the whisper-soft brush of rosebud lips against his own. Each night, James was sure he could hear his Father screaming that what he was doing was a sin, that a Norrington would kneel before no man, but James found a peace in casting his eyes away from his Lordship, and following softly-spoken directives with a dedication that bordered on reverence.
Pride had given Norrington everything, but taken it away from James.
As his Lordship smiled down at him, long fingers tangled haphazardly in his hair, James silenced his Father's voice at last, knowing that he would be a virtuous man, a humble man, if it meant this would last forever, and his Lordship would smile for him again.