Entry tags:
Fanfic. Redemption (POTC 3)
Redemption (Pirates of the Caribbean, Norrington, PG13) James is searching for redemption, until the end. Warning: Character death (spoilers if you haven't seen POTC III). Written for ![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
penknife for ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fandom_stocking 2009.
Redemption
The night is cold and bitter and utterly appropriate for death.
Without knowing the future, James knows that this night will end in death, whether his or Elizabeth's or either of their crews. Whatever decisions he makes, death will be at the end; he can feel it in his soul.
The sudden realisation bolsters his resolve that Elizabeth be freed. The one true constant in his life has been his affection and devotion to the woman who was fated to never be his. A bitter irony that once hurt deeply, but has faded to a dull ache that reminds him of his humanity, and his morality.
He would have given anything for her; he would do anything to keep her safe.
"Come with us."
Her words are a sharp pull back to the moment; she's the last of her crew standing aboard the Dutchman.
"James, come with me."
He wants very much to go with her, to leave the Dutchman and Beckett's service, but his loyalty is not to Elizabeth alone. He was born and raised a Navy officer and to abandon his crew to Jones is unthinkable.
Bootstrap's alarm only affirms his decision, though he wishes it weren't so.
He's never been so afraid in his life, and for the first time he isn't ashamed of it.
He'll hold Bootstrap off; he'll hold them all off.
The pain is sharp and cold and his fear only moments earlier seems trivial.
Jones' arrival – his offer – fall on deaf ears and James is all too aware of the part he has played in his own fate.
No one leaves the Dutchman.
His final thought is a prayer, exhaled on his last breath.
Then there is nothing but an endless, dark sea.
penknife for fandom_stocking 2009.Redemption
The night is cold and bitter and utterly appropriate for death.
Without knowing the future, James knows that this night will end in death, whether his or Elizabeth's or either of their crews. Whatever decisions he makes, death will be at the end; he can feel it in his soul.
The sudden realisation bolsters his resolve that Elizabeth be freed. The one true constant in his life has been his affection and devotion to the woman who was fated to never be his. A bitter irony that once hurt deeply, but has faded to a dull ache that reminds him of his humanity, and his morality.
He would have given anything for her; he would do anything to keep her safe.
"Come with us."
Her words are a sharp pull back to the moment; she's the last of her crew standing aboard the Dutchman.
"James, come with me."
He wants very much to go with her, to leave the Dutchman and Beckett's service, but his loyalty is not to Elizabeth alone. He was born and raised a Navy officer and to abandon his crew to Jones is unthinkable.
Bootstrap's alarm only affirms his decision, though he wishes it weren't so.
He's never been so afraid in his life, and for the first time he isn't ashamed of it.
He'll hold Bootstrap off; he'll hold them all off.
The pain is sharp and cold and his fear only moments earlier seems trivial.
Jones' arrival – his offer – fall on deaf ears and James is all too aware of the part he has played in his own fate.
No one leaves the Dutchman.
His final thought is a prayer, exhaled on his last breath.
Then there is nothing but an endless, dark sea.