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James Norrington had dreamt of meeting his soulmate since childhood. The thought that there was someone out there reserved especially for him was comforting. Someone who was destined to adore and cherish him, who he would be proud to call his wife. A fine woman.
Someone… like Elizabeth Swann.
Most people met their soulmates young, and Norrington was in his twenties now. Elizabeth Swann was the only one around who fit his profile of a suitable bride. It had to be Elizabeth.
He had never seen her mark. He had never dared ask such a personal question from such a refined lady, though he had played the scenario in his head many times. In most of his fantasies, when Elizabeth revealed her mark, it matched, and he would propose on the spot.
He had prepared for every possible scenario by the time they stood alone on a stone wall, admiring the sea below.
“You have become a fine woman, Elizabeth." Norrington said.
“I can’t breathe” she gasped, and he had to turn away to cool his nerves.
“Yes I, I’m a bit nervous myself.”
Then Elizabeth fell over the railing, plunging into the ocean. Well… He hadn’t prepared for that one.
Next he saw her she was laying on the dock with some dirty, soaking wet brute lingering over her. The man’s hair was long, like seaweed covered in mud. A pirate, if he’d ever seen one. Clearly someone who should be nowhere near his Elizabeth.
Norrington drew his sword.
“On your feet” He said, not bothering to hide the disgust in his voice. He pointed the sword at the man wobbling up.
Elizabeth was already being tended to by her father, who seemed to take notice of the vermin as well.
“Shoot him” He said.
“Father!” Elizabeth yelled out, and turned to Norrington.
“Commodore,” she said, “do you really intend to kill my rescuer?”
Oh, but surely she wasn’t taking this low-life’s side? Norrington wanted to cut this man’s head off, but didn’t want to do anything that may cause conflict between him and Elizabeth. After a moment of thought he nodded, sheathing his sword. He could change her mind soon enough, so he played along for now. He lifted his hand briskly to the man.
“I believe... thanks are in order,” he said through his teeth. The pirate lifted his cloth wrapped hand hesitantly to meet James’. He seemed to be smart enough to realise he had no choice. Norrington grabbed the man’s wrist, pulling up his sleeve to reveal a burnt ‘P’ on the tanned skin.
“Had a brush with the East-India trading company, did we?” He asked, hiding a smirk. Pause for dramatic effect, and...
“...Pirate.”
The man’s face twitched into the sort-of-smile of someone who had been found out.
“Hang him!” The governor squeaked.
Norrington grinned inwardly - he had been right. Even Elizabeth couldn’t oppose the scoundrel’s punishment now.
“Keep your guns on him men, Gillette, get some irons.” Norrington said, trying and failing to keep the smugness from his voice.
It occurred to him that the pirate may have other indicators of his identity up his arm, a family tattoo if he was lucky, or a famous soulmark. He scoffed at that. God, what kind of woman would be tied down to him?
He yanked the man’s sleeve further up.
Norrington knew the family tattoo. This was the infamous Jack Sparrow. The pirate shifted under his gaze.
The man was… fairly attractive in a dark way, sure, but no woman of standards could love him. Perhaps his soulmate was some Tortugan wench. Or a man. Ridiculous.
‘Well, well” He started, and his eyes landed on the small mark above the tattoo of the bird. Norrington froze, his mouth still open.
Ah.
Sparrow’s soulmate was a man.
He had been right. Only this time, the revelation destroyed his entire life. The future he had planned with Elizabeth, robbed from him. He supposed that’s what pirates did. Robbed things and destroyed lives. His grip on the pirate tightened, as he observed the mark more carefully, tracing his thumb over the small, blue swirls curled into an intricate whirlpool. It didn’t smear like he wanted it to. Needed it to. His vision blurred, as he dropped Sparrow’s hand. His costume was too hot, too tight. This wasn’t happening, it had to be a joke, it couldn’t be, that this man… This pirate, this creature had his mark. Yet there it was. On Sparrow’s arm.
Fascinating. The thought had never even crossed his mind. James felt woozy, falling a step backwards. Perhaps it was his turn to faint. He bumped into some men, incomprehensible voices surrounding him. His feet felt absent, but he fought back collapsing onto the ground. Instead, he put on a stern mask, pulling himself back together.
He had to remain sensible. He faced a problem, all he needed to do was solve it. Simple. He gave Sparrow the coldest stare he could muster, and the man’s eyebrows knitted together.
“Name’s Smith.” Sparrow said.
“I know who you are, Jack Sparrow.” Norrington spit out the name.
“Captain Jack Sparrow, actually.” He said, and Norrington felt bloodthirst rise in him.
“Your title’s not going to matter after you’re dead.” He hissed, and Sparrow rolled his head, way too relaxed.
“I don’t plan to die.”
“You will,” is all Norrington could say. God, he needed to leave this place. Either that, or cut this man’s head off. Indeed, that would solve his problem quite nicely. Norrington would just have to live the rest of his life alone. It would beat the shame of someone finding out about Sparrow.
“I’m not planning to plan to die,”
“I will make sure you will anyway,”
“Mmm, but you’re forgetting something, Commodore. If I were to die, my soulmate would burn this place down as revenge!” Jack Sparrow said, a glint in his eyes, and Norrington flinched. Was this bastard serious?
“And what’s his name?” Norrington asked. There was a chuckle behind him, most likely at the assumption that Sparrow’s soulmate was a ‘he’.
“He goes by many names. Bringer of darkness, the lord of death, king of-”
“Never heard of him.”
“...He, also answers to, Smith”, Sparrow said, and Norrington barely stopped himself from screaming at the man. He needed to cool down. Getting emotional would only be suspicious. Norrington exhaled, imagining slitting this man’s throat open, slicing him up and throwing him overboard. His smile was stiff.
“No, he doesn’t,” Norrington said as coolly as he could.
Sparrow frowned.
“Pardon me, commodore, but how would you know that?” His eyes narrowed, “unless, of course, you recognised my mark and therefore know exactly who my…”
Norrington scoffed a little louder than natural.
“Do not insult me! Neither me nor any of my comrades are lowly enough to be paired with the likes of you!”
How he wished that was true.
Sparrow pointed his finger at Norrington drunkenly.
“Aha! It’s one of yer comrades, then!” His grin quickly transformed into a frown.
“They’re not as stuck up as you are they?”
“Shut up! Damn, why aren’t you in irons yet?”
As if on queue, Gillette shuffled past him to clad the pirate in handcuffs. Sparrow kept his dark eyes on James.
“Is he rich?”
“None of your business,” James hissed, and froze. A bad choice of words. One that revealed too much. Way too much. The pirate smirked.
“It is, actually,”
He needed to cover up his comment, quickly. With words.
“Shut up, pirate scum, let’s take him-”
“Hold on!” The governor spoke, and James flinched, “Commodore Norrington, if you know who this… thing’s soulmate is, you must let me know”
“I don’t,” James said quickly.
Sparrow raised his eyebrow, “You practically said it already,” then at the governor, softer, “he said it already.”
“I didn’t!” James’ mouth felt heavy.
“Norrington!” The governor yelled. “The soulmate of this pirate is likely a traitor, or someone who will become a traitor in the future,” His small eyes bore into James’ back, “I order you to tell me his name,”
“Governor do not listen to this man he is clearly a liar,” Norrington mustered, and one of the men he had forgotten about stepped forward.
“Actually, he’s very honest, just earlier he said he’d-”
“Shut up!” James was losing his cool. The energy coursing through his body stopped him from thinking rationally. He had to calm down, listen to the waves, to-
“It really is a friend of yours!” Sparrow smirked.
“ohmygod will you SHUT UP!”
“-Unless of course… It’s you, my dear Commodore?” The pirate was too good at guessing. Or was James really that obvious?
“It-most-certainly-is-not-you-filthy-” he hissed.
“-Show me your arm then!” Sparrow said, and it was like he grew in size.
“-pirate...scum-” His cheeks heated.
“Commodore Norrington?” The governor's voice was soft, unsure, “Just show him your arm.”
“What?” Norrington’s heart shook, as the situation was quickly slipping through his fingers, “I don’t take orders from pirates!”
The governor huffed, “But you do take orders from me, Commodore Norrington!”
“I don’t need to prove-”
“You are only making yourself look more guilty!” The governor said.
Guilty of what, exactly? He hadn’t done anything! It wasn’t his fault he was tied to a criminal. He didn’t choose this, it wasn’t fair! He was supposed to be tied to Elizabeth, anyway.
“Governor, do not listen to suggestions from a pirate!”
“I do what I want, and you do what I want too!”
“Please, I… My mark matches Elizabeth’s!” He fumbled over his words, giving Elizabeth a pleading look. Her mouth fell slightly open. The waves crashed painfully calmly against the dock, and Elizabeth stood still. Why was she not helping him?
The governor spoke next.
“Commodore Norrington,” he said in a grim, unbelieving tone, “I have seen my daughter’s mark on another boy,”
“...”
“What.”
“It’s true!” Elizabeth woke from her trance, “I’ve known since I was a child, my soulmate is...”
James tuned the rest of her story out. Shit. What. SHit. FUCK, he was so fucked, damnit.
He glanced subtly behind him, to see a wall of men. His men, who he wouldn’t get past if he attempted to run.
Something pulled at his wrist, and he spun back around to see the governor standing in front of him. He was gripping James’s wrist, eyes glued to the pale whirlpool on his arm. The governor’s throat made a strangled squak.
Well.
Life had certainly been an interesting experience.
Sparrow peaked his head over the governor's shoulder, as James tore his trembling hand free.
James saw Sparrow move before anyone else. He didn’t stop him. He wanted to, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Everything was so confusing at the moment. He could always blame his confusion.
Sparrow grabbed the Governor from behind, and he let out a small yelp. James hadn’t thought of taking a hostage. Not that he’d ever need to. Except now he needed to do something, didn’t he?
Norrington could almost admire Sparrow’s quick thinking. Almost.
“Let- let go of him, scoundrel,” He said to his soulmate.
“Commodore!” Sparrow said, flashing a fake smile, “Call me Jack.”