kittysorceress

This is my story for the James Norrington Ficathon hosted by

sarkastic. It was written for

ashtonecks

Title: Curiosity/Broken Hearts
Rating: G
Pairings: Norribeth, Norrington/OC
Setting: Post DMC - Pre AWE
Word Count: 765
What

ashtonecks wanted: Vengeful!Norrington, Norrington paired romantically with either Liz or an OC, and lot's o' fun drama!
What

ashtonecks didn't want: Norrington slash, and overdose of angst (though some is fine)

My commentry: I'm a slash writer, so I hope this is okay. Also, I think it may be too angsty. I apoligise now for it... it didn't turn out how I had imagined it.

Curiosity/Broken Hearts

James Norrington returned to Port Royal yesterday. I caught a glimpse of him disembarking one of the merchant vessels, and his appearance shocked me. He was ragged, muddy and looked worse than any pirate I had ever laid sight on. His handsome features were twisted with a smirk of God knows what emotion. He was accompanied by one of Lord Beckett’s men, so I did not think to address him.

The former Commodore was the best of friends with my brother Patrick, who has been missing since the hurricane. I don’t blame Norrington for the almost certain death of my brother – Patrick is… was… just as hot-headed and I’m sure just as much to blame for the idiotic idea of following Sparrow. Now, he is gone, as is the majority of the crew of the lost Dauntless. I think Norrington has been affected by the loss of so many of his men, and that is what led him to this – this devastation.

Even tonight, as he sits by Lord Beckett at the dining table, he looks uncomfortable when people query him. He is back in brocade although he isn’t wearing a wig like all the other men – his hair is tied loosely. He looks as dashing as ever, but he has a glint in his eyes. He has seen more of this world than we know. He knows more pain and suffering than any one of us could contemplate. As I look at him, he catches my eye and smiles.

I blush. He wasn’t meant to see me staring.

Dinner is such a boring affair, and the talk is tiring me. I answer politely to the questions asked of me, but otherwise I find myself entranced by the thoughts of where Norrington has been. No one says anything, though it is known that he did not spend the whole voyage on the ship that brought him back. Has he visited India perchance? Or to Spain as a spy? Maybe to the East Indies for the Company, after his resignation from the Navy…

I ask him that evening, as we stand on the terrace, away from the noise of the Ball inside. He tells me a great tale of Davy Jones and of the other Pirates, of Turner and Miss Swann. He speaks with bitterness and it pains me to hear his suffering. I doubt most of the story is true, but I listen to him anyway. He wants to talk to me again tomorrow, and I agree on a place and time.

When I go home, I can’t get to sleep. My mind wanders around visions of half-man half-fish creatures, visions of stolen hearts, both literal and figurative. I wake far from rested.

***

I don’t know quite what I’m doing.

I know that I am proposing to Miss Baxter, but I don’t know why. She is handsome enough, sure. She is intelligent and can play the pianoforte well. She blushes with a good grace as I tell her of my affection.

My affection that is all too artificial. She is no Elizabeth, but I suppose this can only be positive.

My love for Elizabeth was poorly bestowed, as is, I fear, Turners love for her. She will not be tied down. She would have never done for the proper wife of a Commodore. Even now, when I am disgraced and little more than a Privateer for Lord Beckett, she would not be suitable. Miss Baxter never had much hope for marriage prospects – I am doing her a favour.

Yes, a favour is what I am doing, not that it won’t be beneficial for me. When I go back after Sparrow, will he be as quick to kill me if I have a wife?

Jack Sparrow isn’t the monster people think him to be. Yes, he is ruthless, a coward and a scoundrel, but he has more of a heart than people give him credit for. He is just as smitten with Elizabeth as Turner is and I was, not that he would ever admit it. He would hate to be taken from her, and I swear he would not inflict that upon anyone – not even on a man who plans to have him hung.

I pity him and Turner as well, she will never love them properly as her love for them stems from her childhood obsession with pirates. It just grew up with her.

I wish she had grown out of it.

I wish she didn’t break my heart.

I know I will break Miss Baxter’s, but there is no turning back now.