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Life's Pursuit	By : Prentice Category: Pirates of the Caribbean (All) > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3643 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Life�s Pursuits

by Prentice

Pairing: Cpt. Jack Sparrow/ Comm. Norrington

Rating: PG-13 (the rating shall go up in later chapters)
Status: WIP
Distribution: Ask and ye shall receive.
Warnings: m/m situations, mild violence, harsh lanuage
Spoilers: Pirates of the Caribbean Curse of the Black
Pearl
Summary: It can take a lifetime to realize what you
really want but only an instant to realize you've already found it.
Disclaimer: Any and all characters and situations are
property and copyright of Disney. No profit is made. No infringement intended.
Note: Please be aware that I've taken a few liberties with the
characters (such as, oh, giving them a past *sto*) but otherwise this story is
meant to stay very on "canon", if you will. Everything that happened in PotC
CotBP still stands and stands firm. Meaning, Barbossa is not going to be popping
up.
-------

Chapter 1
Social functions have never been his strong
suit; Point of fact, he�d truly rather be at a hanging or trudging through the
endless mounds of paperwork that seemed to be piling high of late than at a
social function. Especially a social function involving the celebration of the
engagement between one Mr. Will Turner, blacksmith, and Ms. Elizabeth Swann,
daughter to Port Royal�s present governor.
Elizabeth...
Alexander J. Norrington, Commodore Naval officer, fought back a grimace as he
brought his champagne glass to his lips to sip at an already lukewarm-fizzled
out version of--what he could only guess was--spiked punch that one of the many
servants of the Swann household were passing out with fervor; all thrilled with
the festivities of the engagement party. Ostensibly, it seemed that
Elizabeth--Ms. Swann, he corrected himself quickly--had not forgotten them in
her happy time and had given them some sort of early leave if they made sure
that all the guests were comfortably suited for the night before hand.
He wished he could leave with them. Then at least he would not have to bear
another moment of flashing a small, if not forced, smile as many of the ladies
-- whom now deemed him an extremely good catch for themselves or their daughters
-- batted their eyelashes at him and swapped him with their pearl adorned fans
as they giggled to some joke he didn�t remember telling. The Commodore fought
down another grimace. He feared he now had a painful row of bruises from said
swaps, most of them made worse by the fact that many of the young ladies had
felt it necessary to squeeze his arm just there after they had accosted him with
their fans.
Yet, that wasn�t the worst allotment of the evening. No, there was something
far far worse...
Norrington forced his lips to curve into a small smile, that was nothing more
than a curl of lips, as he spotted Elizabeth--Ms. Swann, make her way through
the crowd towards him, her newly chosen fiancee walking beside her. Both were
smiling radiantly at anyone who may pass, making it acutely obvious to all how
much in love they truly were. The persistent ache in his chest that he had
resolved to ignore throbbed painfully for a moment, making it hard for him to
breath. The shimmering colors of the Swann household swam before his eyes as he
tried to reign himself in with a well placed deep breath and flexing of fingers.
Seconds passed before the room slowly came back into focus and he all but
slammed the feeling to the back of his mind and heart to one day disappear or be
forgotten entirely.
Norrington sighed, lifting his champagne glass for another gulp of too sweet
punch. He would not act like a lovesick puppy. Not here. Not now. Not ever.
�Ms. Swann! Darling, come here and let me meet the new man of your heart...�
A high pitched voice cried from somewhere to Norrington�s left, causing him to
tighten his grip on the stem of his glass. Mrs. Jennings. There was no mistaking
that high nasal voice for anyone else�s here. The woman was the biggest gossip
in Port Royal bar none. She was responsible for more than a few of the rumors
that were being thrown around now that he and Elizabeth�s engagement was over.
Most of the rumors were ridiculous --ranging from him planning to chase the
blacksmith out of port to pistols at dawn the day before the wedding -- to the
more cruel and harsh -- that the Commodore was ridiculing the match and planning
to protest the union the day of the wedding. All of them false, of course. But
no less cutting.
Norrington grimaced and placed his glass onto one of the serving trays as a
servant went by; not bothering to pick up another. He was suddenly feeling quite
ill. Whether from the sugary sweet liquid or from having to endure another two
or even three hours of trying his best to hold up the wall and fade into the
background.
It would never happen but couldn�t a young seaman dream?

------

In his years on the sea, Norrington had seen and been involved in many
dangerous games and maneuverings. He had outwitted blood thirsty pirates, fought
sword and pistol with some of the most dangerous men on land and sea, and, most
recently, been one of the many players that helped defeat enemies of the un-dead
kind. But nothing, nothing at all, could have prepared him for the situation
that lay before him now.
Twelve pearl adorned, eye batting, giggly young ladies trying their best to
steal his attention away from each other.
Norrington couldn�t help but feel as though the struggle to stay out of Davie
Jones� locker on a daily basis was less of a task. Maybe even a welcome retreat.
�Commodore, there you are my boy!� Governor Swann�s voice floated from behind
him making the corners of his mouth curl into a weak but genuine smile for the
first time that evening as he watched all the ladies before him shoot each other
annoyed and disappointed looks before slowing dawdling away as the Governor
approached.
�Governor Swann.� He replied, turning slightly to greet the other man as he
walked closer, side stepping some of the older women and men wishing to hold him
and wish him happiness for his daughter�s union.
�I feared that you had left. I am more than happy that you haven�t!� Governor
Swann cried, making his voice rise slightly above the norm to get the attention
of some of the guests and ladies standing near by. Norrington felt the corners
of his mouth twitch.
Father-in-law he would never be but the man still made sure he was welcome.
�No, sir. A pack of wild dogs could not pull me away.� He replied in kind,
lips twitching again as a spark of murmuring ran rabid through the crowd. What
did they think he was about to do? Insult the Governor and demand some kind of
compensation for being quitted by his daughter?
�But I expect a fleet of wild Pirates could.� The Governor teased, lowering
his voice so only the Commodore could hear. The man had done his part, the
gossiping hoards would do the rest.
�Guilty as charged.� He replied warmly, his voice lowering to match. By
morning, no doubt, there would be a new set of rumors flying around about the
happy greeting the Governor had bestowed upon his head naval officer. But then,
who was to say what kind of rumors they would be. Not that the Commodore cared
very much, any man who could save him from the clutches of twelve
husband-wanting females could be forgiven anything.
The other man smiled cheerfully at him and patted him on the back heartily,
though the smile didn�t quite met his eyes. �How are you holding up?� He asked
quietly after a moments hesitation.
Norrington swallowed thickly, the momentary lapse in the ache within him
surging up double fold. �As well as...� His voice caught. �I will be fine, sir.�
For a moment, the governor stood silent, eyes searching his face before he
squeezed his shoulder gently. �There is no shame in leaving early, my boy. Many
of those present are planning to leave soon for prior engagements.�
Norrington shook his head, forcing another smile even as he wished he had
kept his glass of punch. His mouth suddenly seemed far to dry. �I am doing quite
fine, sir. A little too many fans and baubles than punch and dancing, I�m
afraid.� He lied smoothly. The Governor nodded slowly, as if unsure if he should
press the Commodore on the issue or not.
�Truly, sir. I am fine.� He assured, reaching out and plucking a new glass
from a t a tray that happened to be passing by as he turned back to the party,
suddenly feeling all to old and tired to be here among all these happy faces.
How he wished there could be some sort of emergency that he needed to look
into presently so he would not have to stay much longer. So he wouldn�t have to
look upon all the people around him, look upon the face of the woman he had
devoted the last few years of his life to, and pretend to be just as happy as
everyone else. But, as always, his sense of honor had weighed out and even the
Governor�s thinly veiled acquiescence would not allow him to leave while
Elizabeth so obviously wanted him to be there to share in her happiness.
Norrington sighed and brought the chilled glass to his lips, cringing as the
overly sweet punch slide down his throat covering it with syrupy persistence. It
wasn�t as if he wasn�t happy for Ms. Swann, quite the contrary, but how could
anyone expect him to be so cheery when the woman he was sure he had loved was
going to marry another man so soon after their engagement was over?
He sighed again, rolling the glass between his hands as he looked out onto
the happy couples twirling around the dance floor, laughing and smiling. For a
brief moment, his eyes lighted on Elizabeth as she was swept into a dance by her
fianc�e, her cream colored gown shinning in the ever dwindling sunlight.
He was not a petty man, not by a long shot, but -- it simply wasn�t fair. All
his life he had hoped that one day he would be the man, like Will Turner was
now, who would be dancing with a woman who loved him so fully as Elizabeth loved
that man now. It was something that, even as a young man working his way up to
the ranking of Commodore, he had quietly cultivated in hopes that one day it
would come true. It was a kind of...life�s pursuit that he had allowed himself
to indulge in.
But then that Jack Sparrow -- Captain Jack Sparrow, his mind corrected -- had
come blustering into port and everything had changed. Everything he had worked
so hard for.
Don�t count him wrong, he knew it wasn�t entirely Sparrow�s fault. It was
bound to happen--Elizabeth choosing Will, not the curse -- but he couldn�t help
but lay some sort of blame at Sparrow�s feet. If the man had not come sinking in
to the docks then perhaps he would have had the time to win Elizabeth�s
affections, her love.
Norrington glowered, looking down at the glass in his hands. No, Elizabeth
had made her choice and she had chosen with her heart. He would not -- could
not-- fault her for that. He would rather her to be in a happy marriage, one
that grew from love, than an unhappy one that grew out of the desperation of one
stuttering naval officer�s proposal.
The ache in his chest grew. If only he could be on the Dauntless now. Sea air
surrounding him as he commanded his crew to be watchful of any pirate vessels
that may approach.
That was were he needed to be. In his element; on the sea. His first love.
A lump began to form in his throat. His first love and, now, his only love.

----------

Norrington brought his glass to his lips again and took a great gulp of the
contents, for a moment ignoring his terminally ingrained social etiquette and
the fact that he usually didn�t drink. Sadly, however, the punch didn�t contain
the kind of well--punch that he had hoped and only left him with a sickening
film in his mouth that tasted sugary and thick.
It was a shame that they were serving nothing stronger. He could use a brandy
or three. Even something as harsh and barbaric as rum would be a pleasant
diversion.
Rum. The commodore�s glower turned to a scowl. Rum was a pirates drink.
Something that he was most definitely not. Even if right now he wished he were
so he could ever so rudely get completely drunk and leave the party as
dramatically as Sparrow could and would, if he were here. A passing thread of
amusement washed over the commodore as he imagined what parting words the man
might have if he were here. Undoubtedly something have to do with the fact that
he was �Captain Jack Sparrow�.
For an insane moment, Norrington felt his eyes snap up and shift around the
room as if to confirm that yes, Sparrow was not here and would not be gilding
the lily, as it were. And after all, he would not be here unless he was
completely out of his mind with how many officers were mingling with some of the
ladies and quietly talking in corners. Just so, he could see Gillette sipping
his own glass of punch while quietly passing pleasantries with a woman that
Norrington, himself, had been accosted by not one hour ago.
But then---Jack Sparrow was far from sane. Far from anything even remotely
close to sane if his tumble into the ocean that day two months ago was any
indication. He couldn�t fault the man, however. In his own insane and listless
way, the man was brilliant. Outrageous. But brilliant, none the less.
Which was why, he supposed, he was having such a time catching the man like
he was. Oh, he had given a good chase to the Black Pearl, several times almost
catching it if it were not for some of the trickery that particular vessel�s
crew had been about. But none the less the chase had lasted almost the entire
first month and, in the end, he had come home sans Captain Jack Sparrow, the
Black Pearl, and it�s crew. All of which were a chase worth pursuing.
It had been, literally, years since he and his men had been given such a
challenge and he savored it as well as welcomed it as the mere distraction that
it was.
Yes, chasing down Sparrow was a distraction. He wouldn�t deny it but it held
it�s own sort of...charm. Something that, given time to think about it, he found
more than enjoyable. It was like a strategic game. One that he and Sparrow began
the moment he had stepped onto the docks of Port Royal and tried to appropriate
the Dauntless, which he did...in the end.
An obscene urge to grin swept through the Commodore as he thought of it. He
had been so shocked, so...dumbfounded, when he had seen Sparrow and Turner
sailing away in his ship. But his dismay had almost instantly switched to white
hot rage. The blind anger that built inside him was something he had never felt.
Something that he was sure only Sparrow could bring out in him. That damnable
grin, bow and wave were enough to make him want to jump into the sea water and
swim after the ship by himself. And it was at that moment, he was sure he would
have Sparrow�s neck. So sure that he had silently vowed to himself to do just
that as his earliest convenience.
Norrington exhaled in a whoosh, his urge to smile slipping away as fast as it
had come.
It was so funny how things changed. How he had went from wanting the man
hanging in the gallows to wanting the man to come back to Port Royal so he would
at least have some enjoyment in life. Some goal to pursue.
But the question he had to ask himself, and had been asking himself was: when
had chasing down Sparrow become an enjoyment?
Norrington frowned, staring at the bottom of his glass through the pink
tinged liquid. He had a few ideas. Some of them more outlandish than the next
but they were still there, plaguing him with their absurdity. Then there were
more reasonable explanations like the fact that there was no activity to be
heard of. None. No merchant vessels near Port Royal had been attacked, no pirate
ships coming to attack the Port, No---nothing.
That fact alone had been enough to make him uneasy. Port Royal was a far cry
from being active with pirate attacks but it had never been this quiet. Never
this---boring.
Norrington licked his lips. Yes, that is exactly what it was. Boring.
Commodore A. J. Norrington was bored out of his mind and nursing a broken heart
while being plagued with an ever elusive pirate ship and Captain, both of which
he was slowly growing far to fond of chasing. Was there any other kind of
torture?
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Life's Pursuit