The Fallen
Title: The Fallen
Author: savvyelfpirate
Characters: James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann
Rating: PG
Summary: A twist on what happens when Elizabeth finds James after he is thrown out of the tavern in Tortuga.
Author's Note: Written for the prompt "Linger" in 50scenes.
Warnings: Pretty clean, I think.
Disclaimer: PotC is not mine. But I do enjoy playing with it.
Soft footsteps are approaching on the nearby cobblestone path, but James Norrington resolutely ignores them, though this requires leaving his face half-submerged in the mud and God only knows what other filth he has landed in. There is not a single soul on this earth the former commodore would welcome seeing in this disgraced state. James grits his teeth against the throbbing that threatens to cave in the back of his skull; the rum-induced headache he's suffered for days has been exacerbated by the sharp - but admittedly not undeserved - blow from a rum bottle.
The footsteps pause by the pigsty currently serving as James' bed. Bloody hell, leave me alone or I'll wring your neck, James thinks bitterly. He remains still, feigning a drunken stupor. The last numbing effects of cheap rum had dissipated the instant the glass bottle shattered on his head, leaving him to face his wretched reality while painfully sober. The unwelcome visitor lingers despite James' best mental efforts to compel him or her to move along.
"James Norrington... what has this world done to you?"
The familiar voice startles him into hoisting himself up on one elbow gaze at Elizabeth Swann - or it is Turner now? - with half-lidded eyes. Elizabeth is wearing men's clothing that hangs loosely on her slender frame, and her hair is bound into a tight plait, but her face is still as lovely as he remembered, concern in her hazel eyes. Elizabeth's pitying expression makes a rush of resentment and humiliation rise in his gut like heartburn. If there is anyone from whom he wished to hide his fall from grace, it is his former fiance... the only woman stoic James Norrington has ever loved.
"And I thought Turner would have molded you into a proper little housewife by now."
James regrets the hateful words as soon as they come out of his mouth. A brief flicker of hurt crosses Elizabeth's face before she crosses her arms across her chest, meeting his stare cooly. "I suppose you're not going to accept an offer to help you out of that muck."
"You suppose correctly." James hauls himself to his feet awkwardly, swaying slightly as spots swim through his vision. "You are free to go back to your pirate friends and leave me in peace."
"Oh, James," Elizabeth sighs almost fondly. It is the first time she has ever addressed him as such. "You always were too proud for your own good."
He'd expected disgust, or even anger, but not the half-smile on her lips as if he is a dear old friend. "If I have any pride left, it would appreciate being left alone in its misery," he hints.
Elizabeth refuses to budge. Bloody stubborn as always. "Facedown in the mud in Tortuga. I did not think you had it in you," she muses softly, as if to herself.
"No man is perfect, Miss Swann," James replies evenly.
"But once, I thought you were. And I think we can forget the formalities in these... circumstances." Elizabeth glances over her shoulder as somewhere in the distance, shots are fired and there is the roar of a drunken brawl.
"And yet, you still did not love me."
Elizabeth reaches out one hand to wipe the mud off James' mouth. "You are much more intriguing as a flawed man." She leans in and kisses him gently, her fingertips brushing the soft skin on the back of his neck. She tastes of sea salt and the promise of freedom he never knew as a Navy man. James kisses her back, feeling for just an instant that perhaps he hasn't completely destroyed any chance of happiness after all.
When Elizabeth breaks the kiss and he is abruptly overwhelmed by the throbbing of his head and the stench of the pigsty, she says, "Now. Are you coming with me?"
James has no idea where Elizabeth and Sparrow are headed, but one thing, at least, has not changed about their relationship. He would still go to the ends of the earth and beyond for Elizabeth Swann. James accepts her outstretched hand and follows Elizabeth toward the docks wondering if the woman who contributed to his downfall may in fact be the angel who can save him.
Author: savvyelfpirate
Characters: James Norrington/Elizabeth Swann
Rating: PG
Summary: A twist on what happens when Elizabeth finds James after he is thrown out of the tavern in Tortuga.
Author's Note: Written for the prompt "Linger" in 50scenes.
Warnings: Pretty clean, I think.
Disclaimer: PotC is not mine. But I do enjoy playing with it.
Soft footsteps are approaching on the nearby cobblestone path, but James Norrington resolutely ignores them, though this requires leaving his face half-submerged in the mud and God only knows what other filth he has landed in. There is not a single soul on this earth the former commodore would welcome seeing in this disgraced state. James grits his teeth against the throbbing that threatens to cave in the back of his skull; the rum-induced headache he's suffered for days has been exacerbated by the sharp - but admittedly not undeserved - blow from a rum bottle.
The footsteps pause by the pigsty currently serving as James' bed. Bloody hell, leave me alone or I'll wring your neck, James thinks bitterly. He remains still, feigning a drunken stupor. The last numbing effects of cheap rum had dissipated the instant the glass bottle shattered on his head, leaving him to face his wretched reality while painfully sober. The unwelcome visitor lingers despite James' best mental efforts to compel him or her to move along.
"James Norrington... what has this world done to you?"
The familiar voice startles him into hoisting himself up on one elbow gaze at Elizabeth Swann - or it is Turner now? - with half-lidded eyes. Elizabeth is wearing men's clothing that hangs loosely on her slender frame, and her hair is bound into a tight plait, but her face is still as lovely as he remembered, concern in her hazel eyes. Elizabeth's pitying expression makes a rush of resentment and humiliation rise in his gut like heartburn. If there is anyone from whom he wished to hide his fall from grace, it is his former fiance... the only woman stoic James Norrington has ever loved.
"And I thought Turner would have molded you into a proper little housewife by now."
James regrets the hateful words as soon as they come out of his mouth. A brief flicker of hurt crosses Elizabeth's face before she crosses her arms across her chest, meeting his stare cooly. "I suppose you're not going to accept an offer to help you out of that muck."
"You suppose correctly." James hauls himself to his feet awkwardly, swaying slightly as spots swim through his vision. "You are free to go back to your pirate friends and leave me in peace."
"Oh, James," Elizabeth sighs almost fondly. It is the first time she has ever addressed him as such. "You always were too proud for your own good."
He'd expected disgust, or even anger, but not the half-smile on her lips as if he is a dear old friend. "If I have any pride left, it would appreciate being left alone in its misery," he hints.
Elizabeth refuses to budge. Bloody stubborn as always. "Facedown in the mud in Tortuga. I did not think you had it in you," she muses softly, as if to herself.
"No man is perfect, Miss Swann," James replies evenly.
"But once, I thought you were. And I think we can forget the formalities in these... circumstances." Elizabeth glances over her shoulder as somewhere in the distance, shots are fired and there is the roar of a drunken brawl.
"And yet, you still did not love me."
Elizabeth reaches out one hand to wipe the mud off James' mouth. "You are much more intriguing as a flawed man." She leans in and kisses him gently, her fingertips brushing the soft skin on the back of his neck. She tastes of sea salt and the promise of freedom he never knew as a Navy man. James kisses her back, feeling for just an instant that perhaps he hasn't completely destroyed any chance of happiness after all.
When Elizabeth breaks the kiss and he is abruptly overwhelmed by the throbbing of his head and the stench of the pigsty, she says, "Now. Are you coming with me?"
James has no idea where Elizabeth and Sparrow are headed, but one thing, at least, has not changed about their relationship. He would still go to the ends of the earth and beyond for Elizabeth Swann. James accepts her outstretched hand and follows Elizabeth toward the docks wondering if the woman who contributed to his downfall may in fact be the angel who can save him.