Pirates Of The Caribbean Fan Fiction ❯ Mirror, Mirror ❯ Imprisoned ( Chapter 1 )

Chapter 1

Mist. Darkness. A horizon that was just as black as the waters he in which he bobbed and a blood stained uniform of a former Royal Navy Admiral. James Norrington cast his eyes down to the lantern, the only illumination before him as the tiny boat idled along, joining thousands of other souls on the journey to the other side. He'd told Davy Jones he wasn't afraid of death, but the slow movement of his ore-less boat gave him time to rethink those words long and hard.

He had tried for years to live a good, honorable life, but things took a downward spiral for him after the incident with the undead pirates and the Black Pearl. He'd become obsessed with Jack Sparrow, the man he blamed for ruining his life, and chased him across the seas, sailing his beloved ship the Dauntless straight into a hurricane, his crew blindly putting faith into him as the ship went down to the bottom of the sea and them along with it. He'd resigned his commission afterwards, ridden with guilt over the whole thing and tarnishing his reputation.

As if that wasn't horrid enough, he had become entangled in a plot to find and steal the heart of Davy Jones, which he successfully did along with the Letters of Marque, delivering them to Lord Cutler Beckett in a rash attempt to restore his honor and position in society once more. He handed over control of the sea as well as his soul, and helplessly watched Governor Swann be forced to sign papers for the execution of the innocent, impoverished people of Port Royal. All this quickly made James realize that he made a grave decision.

Yet his thoughts managed to return to Elizabeth, and he couldn't help but wonder what had happened to her. Had she made it off safely? He could never forget his surprise that she was Pirate Lord of Singapore, nor could he forget the way she looked at him with such hatred and contempt when she told him of her father's death. James honestly had no idea that Beckett assassinated Governor Swann, yet she had wrongly assumed that he was involved somehow. It was then, when he looked into those livid brown eyes that he knew that nothing could atone for his sins now.

The beautiful, fleeting face of Elizabeth was the last thing he saw when he closed his eyes after Bootstrap had run him through. He had never told her he loved her, nor showed her the true James Norrington, and in his final moments that he knew were upon him, he had kissed her, opening his heart and letting her see the feelings and passion for her that ran deep, hidden behind his officer's mask for so long.

It was these contemplations that made James realize that he'd never really lived at all. He had been bound by duty, forced to mask his emotions, even in his personal affairs, which is what he suspected were one of the reasons that Elizabeth rejected his hand in marriage, aside from the fact that she was in love with Will Turner. In fact, the only reason she had been briefly engaged to him was to use him to rescue the object of her true affections and because she was bound by the protocols of noble society. He knew this, yet, he loved her anyway.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden rocking of his boat. Previously, the waters had been calm, and the surface smooth as glass. He looked up to see the Flying Dutchman slowly making its way toward through the Sea of Death. The Captain stood at the bow, and James recognized that it was not Davy Jones. The crew had different properties about them as they looked human for a change. Upon studying the captain closer, he'd found it was none other than William Turner! James stood up and began waving at the Dutchman before it would disappear into the mists.

“Turner!” he ventured a yell, shattering the sounds of silence.

The other occupants of their boats slowly and cryptically turned their heads to stare, causing William to look as well.

“Oh, my God…” William muttered. He looked toward the crew. “Turn her about and find a way to get to that one.”

“He is but a soul, Son,” Bootstrap Bill told him. “He needs to go to the other side like the others.”

Will paused. “No.” He glanced at his father. “That man saved Elizabeth; I owe him a debt of gratitude.”

Bootstrap shrugged. “You're the Captain, son, and you have the ability to decide who crosses over and who doesn't.”

The Dutchman made its way toward James where the crew lowered a rope to the former Admiral. James climbed aboard, leaving the tiny longboat behind him. A hand extended toward him, and he soon found himself facing William Turner.

“James Norrington, what a surprise to actually see you amongst the thousands of the world's dead souls,” Will said, the scar where his heart had once been clearly showing courtesy his open shirt.

“Are you really the captain of the Flying Dutchman now?” James asked in disbelief.

Will nodded. “Aye, sir. I was gravely wounded during the battle, and Jack and Elizabeth had me stab the heart of Davy Jones in order to save my life.”

Bootstrap sauntered up next to William. James looked up at the older Turner, recognizing him right off. “Y-you! You were the one…who killed me.”

William turned to his father. “You killed him?!”

Bootstrap hung his head in shame. “Aye, my boy, I did. I wasn't in the right mind, though.” He looked up at James. “I don't expect you to forgive me, but I still want to apologize to you for that. Had any of this been any other way, I'da never even thought about it.”

“And all this time, I had assumed it was Jones, considering he ran me through with the very sword I made you, Norrington.”

“Rather ironic, Son,” Bootstrap threw in.

James had to agree on that one. He looked up at Bill. “It was well worth the sacrifice, and anyway, after all the sins I have committed, I deserved to die. I hold no grudge against you, sir.”

“Elizabeth told me what you did for her,” Will told James. “Thanks to you, she is alive.”

A look of relief crossed James's features. “I am glad to hear that. I have worried over her safety since…” He looked down at his bloodstained uniform.

“Listen…” Will trailed. “I once knew you to be a good man underneath that stuffy uniform of yours. You graciously stepped down to let Elizabeth be with me, which shows me you have a sense of what is wrong and what is right. But even the best men stumble and fall sometimes, Admiral, and you should know that it may not be entirely too late to right your wrongs.”

James shook his head dismally. “It is too late for that. I am but a soul.”

“Here you are indeed a soul,” Bootstrap interjected, “but have you already forgotten how to get back to the land of the living?”

“Does that work on someone who is already dead?” James asked.

Bootstrap and Will nodded.

Curious, James leaned forward. “How?”

“The living person on the side of the dead can overturn his boat at sunset and make the land of the living appear at sunrise,” Bootstrap explained. “However, for the dead, the soul becomes separated from the body, and in order to return to the land of the living, you must first have a vessel of some kind or your soul will be destined to wander in the land of the living without any hope of crossing over to the other side.”

“But how can I do anything as a mere soul?” James asked. “I can't communicate with anyone, nor can they see me.”

“This is true…” Will trailed.

Bootstrap had an idea. “I think I have an idea…what about a mirror?”

“A mirror?” Will asked.

“What?” James gaped.

“Really, mate, a soul needs a vessel of some kind to reside in if it is to stay in the land of this living. Unfortunately, your body's lost, mate, so we got to send ye in a mirror.”

James leaned back. This whole thing sounded incredulous, but after what he'd been through, nothing seemed impossible at this point. “You must be joking. A mirror?” The officer arched an eyebrow.

“It will work, mate,” Bootstrap assured James.

William sighed. “I wish I had a better idea, but James, we're trying to give you a second chance. I owe you a debt of gratitude for saving Elizabeth. This is my way of thanking you.”

“And my way of apologizing,” Bootstrap added sheepishly.

James sighed. “There is no other way?”

The Turner pair shook their heads.

“And how do I get out of the mirror if I agree to this dubious idea?”

“You'll have to find Calypso,” Will told him. “Only she can reunite your body with your soul.”

“Oh Christ, you must be joking,” James huffed. “That is asking the impossible!”

“She isn't a mere legend, mate,” Bootstrap told him. “She brought back Captain Barbossa, and she can fix you as well. Have faith, Admiral.”

“It's the only way,” Will told him. “After everything you've been through, all the things you've seen that you never thought possible, you still think of impossibility?”

James thought for a moment. He had seen many impossible things - an undead crew, the heart of Davy Jones, a mutated crew that were afraid of death. No, nothing seemed impossible at this point, but were he to go with this idea, he would have to put blind trust in fate. If not, he would be ferried to the other side without hope of ever returning or redeeming himself in the living world. His sins weighed heavily upon his shoulders even in his death, and if there were any shred of him alleviating his pain, he had to take it. Reluctantly, James conceded to the plan.

“In that case, I'll be right back,” William said.

James stood a considerable distance away from Bootstrap, and understandably so. The younger Turner returned with a full length oval looking glass. The frame was made of dark cherry with a vine pattern carved into it and gold leafing to finish it off. James had no idea how such a beautiful looking glass wound up on board the Flying Dutchman, but then again, these were pirates he was dealing with.

The mirror stood before James as Will and Bootstrap looked on, waiting for him to enter.

James hesitated as he shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other. This was it. No turning back. He reached an unsure hand out toward the glass. The surface of it rippled with his touch. Truly, this would be an enchanted mirror. James drew in a deep breath and stepped inside. He turned around and placed his hands against the glass that now imprisoned his soul.

“Well? Now what?” he asked.

“Now we get you to the land of the living,” Will told him.

“Rest easy, mate,” Bootstrap told James, producing a sheet and covering him with it. “We'll have you back to the world in no time.”