Destinies Entwined

Summary: Ruined by a pirate and a hurricane, former Commodore James Norrington lays in wait on Tortuga with one last objective: kill Jack Sparrow. But when Elizabeth Swann arrives on the scene, a fugitive from justice and recently parted from her fiancé, James cannot help but offer her his aid. Norribeth.

Rating: M/Explicit

"Our destinies have been entwined, Elizabeth, but never joined." –James Norrington, AWE

I. It Wasn't A Boy At All

Timothy Brunswick, Boatswain

Matthew Tenwith, Sailing Master

George Hardy, Gunner's Mate

Samuel Riggs, Carpenter

Peter Crowley, Master at Arms

On and on the list went, though James Norrington feared it grew shorter and shorter every day in his memory. Eight hundred souls lost their lives when the Dauntless succumbed to a hurricane and her Captain's obsession with catching a certain pirate.

This night he sat on a low wall, watching the crowd of the thoroughfare of Tortuga as he nursed a bottle of rum. Someday he hoped to spot that certain pirate in the crowd. Until then he bided his time, drank too much, and fought to remember the names of all the good men he'd killed. He owed them, at the very least, the honor of his memory.

Paul Worstworth, Second Lieutenant.

Hamish Grunsby, Sergeant of Marines.

A high scream in the distance interrupted his train of thought, though such a sound was nothing new in Tortuga. Once upon a time such a thing may have sent James running with sword drawn, but that man was long dead, scuttled by a hurricane, sunk to the bottom of the ocean with the Dauntless and the brave men who had counted upon him to see them through danger, God rest their souls.

This Norrington was a ghost. A shade, a specter, a shadow of the man he used to be. No longer a Commodore, a Commander, or even an officer. Hardly even a man, by his reckoning, though one last purpose on this earth kept him from pressing a flintlock to his head and pulling the trigger.

Jack Sparrow.

He would see that blackguard dead if it was the last thing he ever did. He owed that to his boys, the honored dead, the dear fools who'd had faith enough to follow his orders right into the black mouth of a howling maelstrom. And then?

And then hardly mattered. He could never go home.

Elijah Quigly, Surgeon.

Benjamin Yates, Cook.

Lucas Granger, Quartermaster.

Again, a scream interrupted his thoughts, and James met it with annoyance, taking a pull at his bottle. And yet…through the rum-induced haze there was a certain quality to the loudly protesting voice across the thoroughfare that sounded so familiar. Something that echoed through the now empty halls of his soul. It called to that man he'd once been, the man he'd buried so deep inside. A man who had once dared love a woman, and had been so foolish to hope she could possibly love him in return.

Though he didn't particularly recall giving the order, his feet had begun moving towards the high pitched sounds. Ah, but discipline had fallen rather lax on this vessel as of late.

There was fear in that raised voice, and also fury. Moving through the crowd, he could see a lad tangling with two rowdy tars, emphatically protesting their hands upon him. "Lookee, me hearties! This pretty boy 'as some fire innim. Ever seen a finer mouth on a lad?"

There was the sound of steel grating on a scabbard.

"I advise you to remove your hand, sir, unless you would care to lose it!"

The ruffians only responded with a laugh, and inwardly James sighed with resignation.

He would know that voice anywhere, no matter how deep into a bottle he'd fallen.

"It appears you gents have found a friend of mine," he said calmly, pushing through the gathered crowd. "I will have him back now."

Instinctively, the onlookers backed away from the newcomer, a tall man dressed in dark clothing with a rather menacing sword at his hip. He seemed to carry a cloud of death about him, green eyes glinting hard as steel beneath unruly dark brows. On Tortuga you learned to spot this type at ten paces, and steer clear if you wished to keep your throat in one piece.

The rowdy drunks with a penchant for boys, however, were not so savvy. "He's our friend now," said the bigger one, sticking a meaty finger in James' chest, poking hard. "So bugger off, mate, an' find your own piece o' meat."

A small, acerbic half-smile pulled at James' lips. In the time it took to blink an eye his cutlass left his scabbard, a flash of silver in the night. It took two seconds more for the man to realize he'd just lost his hand, the appendage laying in an expanding puddle of blood at their feet.

Bully boy howled, and James quickly advanced on the next lout, introducing the pirate's face to his fist. The man crumpled, and James grabbed the boy about the arm, urging him to run.

Of course, it wasn't a boy at all.

They wove through the labyrinthine streets, before coming to stop in a particularly putrid but thankfully unoccupied alley.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" James demanded, grasping his charge by the shoulders and shaking her, none too gently. Adrenaline from the battle still roared through his veins, his pulse beating a wild tattoo in his ears. "Where is Turner? I swear, if that damnable boy has dragged you off to a life of piracy I will flay him with my own two hands!"

"James?!" Miss Elizabeth Swann seemed impervious to his bewildered rage, his manhandling, and his heated questions, staring up at him with wide-eyed disbelief. "My God! We all thought you dead!"

A moment later the enraged former Commodore found himself with the inexplicable attachment of a Governor's daughter wrapped tightly about his neck. Immediately something softened within him, the anger receding to a whisper like the outgoing tide sliding from the sand. He was so surprised by her outburst he had to brace himself with one arm against the wall, the other wrapped about her willowy waist.

Even in boys' clothing, she cut a comely figure.

How did she think to even pass at all?

"I should be dead," he ground out, resting his bowed head upon her shoulder. A mercy he did not deserve, much less did he ever even dream to enjoy.

"How can you say that?" She drew back to regard him, a hand upon his bearded cheek. His dark hair was long and pulled back in a simple queue, some of it come loose in the fray. His green eyes gleamed in the shadows of the alley, sharp and a little wild. "What happened to you?"

There was a sound down the alley, and the former Commodore's instincts for survival flared up again. "Not here," he said quietly, taking her hand in his. He tugged her to follow him, and Elizabeth went without a peep of protest, surprisingly grateful for the security of his strong hand in hers.

James led her through several side streets and across the main thoroughfare again, before climbing the side stairs of a tavern called the Mermaid's Arms. With use of a key he entered the room above, and after a suspicious glance around barred the door after them.

He lit a lamp, and Elizabeth surveyed their surroundings. The space itself was surprisingly grand, a throwback of a more prosperous time upon the island. All high ceilings and tall windows, though the pastel plaster walls crumbled in the tropical heat. The seemed all the larger by its lack of furnishings, boasting only one chair, a miniscule table, a washstand with one driftwood leg, and a small bed.

Before Elizabeth could beat him to the chase, James demanded, "What the devil has brought you here?"

Elizabeth was momentarily taken aback by his brusque manner, but then she supposed after cutting off a man's hand she too would be a bit out of sorts. "I…Oh James." The rest flooded out in one long sentence. "Port Royal has gone to Hell since you left and I was arrested for piracy and Lord Beckett is hanging everybody who even looks at him askance—I barely escaped and now I must find Will!"

James took all this in with eyebrows raised high, an incredulous expression on his face. "You were arrested?"

Last he checked, fainting at a hanging was not an executable crime, which really was all she'd truly done. Turner was mostly to blame for Sparrow's escape.

And himself, of course.

"Yes. I was thrown in gaol like a common criminal! Will too! But my father thought he could call on his connections in London, if he had my hand to barter in the deal." She paused, contemplating how to word the next part of her tale, a pained expression come over her features. When she regained her composure she went on, "He and Will conspired behind my back, and Will released me from our promise before tearing off after Jack, because Jack has something Lord Beckett wants desperately. My father was detained as we tried to flee to London, and I escaped in the cargo hold of a merchant ship, so I came here, hoping to find Will, or even Jack…" Her last sentence came in a flurry, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle an inconvenient outpour of emotion. She took a deep breath, steeling herself once more. "And instead I have found you, James Norrington, so the day has not been a total loss."

The small spark of pride James felt at hearing the last was a damnable thing, and suddenly he felt exhausted.

He knew he was not a man someone should put their faith in, anymore.

James sighed heavily, scrubbing his face with his hands. When one came away stained red he shook his head with disgust, crossing to the washstand. Looking at himself in a tiny sliver of glass that had once been a mirror, he endeavored to wash away the splatter of blood upon his cheek.

"Here, let me," said Elizabeth, taking the cloth from his hands. When her fingers brushed his he felt his resolve melt, and he relinquished the rag without a fight. Carefully she daubed away the blood, thankful that none of it seemed to belong to James. He closed his eyes, enchanted by the kindness of her ministrations, another boon he knew he did not deserve. "Perhaps we may restart with a heartfelt thank you. You were brilliant."

Elizabeth had never really seen James in action in a battle. She'd been on the Pearl when he'd fought the skeleton pirates. The memory of how quickly he'd felled those villains on her behalf was surprisingly titillating, and she scorned herself for a ridiculous little fool.

As if he would have you now.

The thought of what exactly he'd saved her from made James' stomach turn. It was bad enough to be a pretty lad, but once they'd realized they had a beautiful woman in their grasp?

His blood ran cold.

When he could stand her touch no longer, for it ignited something troublesome deep in his belly, James caught her wrist, tossing the rag back into the wash station. "I'm not sure brilliant is the word I would associate with relieving a man of his hand, but then I suppose it was just punishment for laying it upon you, my lady," he drawled, his flat tone hiding the churning in his belly. After all this time, the thought of anyone laying hands on her filled him with…too much.

Too much to bear.

James cleared his throat, praying she could not see through his thin disguise of civility. "Would you care to sit?" Slowly, his old manners returned to him, at least what little the present circumstances allowed.

Though she regarded the single chair rather dubiously, Elizabeth took him up on his offer, gingerly lowering herself down into the seat. When it did not immediately buckle under her weight she relaxed a little, removing her hat and hanging it upon the spindle of the back of the chair.

James shook his head to himself once more at the sight of her bare-headed. It seemed her beauty still had the power to hit him like a lead ball to the chest. How could anyone mistake her for a boy, it was beyond him.

James removed his baldric and coat, but made sure to keep the sword and his pistol within reach. It was a rule for survival here on Tortuga to always be armed.

Despite all the harrowing details of Elizabeth's tale, one sentence kept playing over and over in James' head. Will released me from our promise…

The former Commodore sighed, attempting to shake himself from it. Don't be bloody stupid, he reminded himself. You haven't a thing to offer her now.

"I am very sorry to hear of your misfortune," he managed, sitting down upon the bed. "I myself wouldn't mind finding Jack Sparrow in this port."

Elizabeth looked up from studying the floor. "What for? What happened, James?"

James ground his teeth, looking out the window. Jack Sparrow happened. By his reckoning, James had lost everything because of that flea-bitten blackguard. Everything went to hell the minute the pirate pulled Elizabeth from the harbor, the day James asked her to be his wife. James had lost his crew, his ship, his commission, even his fiancée, all due to Jack Sparrow's meddling.

He should have been the one to save her. He would have, had his men not pulled him back. Or perhaps he would have dashed himself on the rocks, and spared himself and his men all this…

"Jack Sparrow led us on a merry chase right into a hurricane," said James quietly, hanging his head. "I fear I was the only survivor."

Elizabeth gasped, her eyes suddenly wide and wet. "Oh James. That is positively awful…"

A very sick dread worked its way through her insides, weighing like a poison stone in her belly. She'd had more than something to do with Jack Sparrow's escape, and possibly even James' state of mind as he doggedly chased after the pirate.

Possibly? You jilted him for a blacksmith in front of the entire city of Port Royal, a little voice hissed in her ear. He loved you, and you threw it back in his face like so much sand.

James hardly noticed as she stood, occupied with the memory of all those good men, the howling of the storm, and their screams as the ripping winds tore their vessel apart right out from under them. Elizabeth knelt before him, taking his hands in hers. "I am so sorry," she whispered, and though James had never known Elizabeth Swann to be sorry for anything, this time he believed her. "If I could take it all back…"

The blood of how many men stained her hands, she wondered? The marines she'd sacrificed by omitting knowledge of the curse upon Barbossa's pirates to save Will, and now a whole first rate full of souls lost to the sea, for the life of Jack Sparrow. And now Will had called off their marriage, and Jack Sparrow was nowhere to be found.

Clearly you chose wisely, she scolded herself. But she had been naught but a child on the cusp of womanhood then. Infatuated, spoiled, and bold. The past few months had thrown the world in a different light for her. No matter how she had resented her gilded cage, the world outside it was a dark and dangerous place. James Norrington had always endeavored so bravely to keep that darkness off the doorstep of Port Royal, and how graciously she had thanked him for it.

James' heart suddenly thundered in his chest. And what exactly did she wish to take back? Surely she only meant her complacency in William's scheme to free Jack Sparrow. The rest…he could not bear to hope.

It didn't matter now, at any rate.

Though it was a comfort he knew he didn't deserve, James dared kiss her hands in his. That was vaguely proper, wasn't it? "Thank you, Elizabeth. But I deserve neither your mercy nor your pity. I killed those men as surely as if I had shot them myself."

The haggard pain in James' voice cut Elizabeth like a knife, and she cradled his face in her hands. "Nothing could be farther from the truth, James. It was a horrible tragedy, but it wasn't your fault."

He laughed, a bitter sound that squeezed her heart painfully. Before she could feed him more pretty but useless consolations, he drew back. "You are kind, Elizabeth. Too kind." He pressed his cheek to her hands, a tremor running down his arms. He deemed it wise to let her go, before he did something completely ungentlemanly. James regarded her, and in his assessment he found her even more wan than usual. "Are you hungry?"

The change of subject took her aback. "I'm fine." She did not want to impose upon him further than she already had.

He narrowed his eyes, unconvinced. "When last did you eat?"

Elizabeth had never been successful at concealing the information James sought when fixed with that certain look, beginning from the time when he was a lieutenant and she was a little girl playing pranks aboard his ship.

"I stole an apple from a barrel in the hold of the ship I stowed away on, yesterday."

"As I thought." James rose, drawing Elizabeth to her feet. "Wait here. I'll have some food brought." He disappeared out the door, presumably to go down to the tavern below.

A/n: I loved James Norrington in COTBP, but DMC James Norrington really gets my blood up. Haha. I hope you all will enjoy this adventure with me! Thanks for reading, and I cherish your feedback like gold! :D