𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐍. ─── ☾ 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 ¹
ʟɪɴᴋꜱ
↪ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
↪ ᴘɪʀᴀᴛᴇꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʀɪʙʙᴇᴀɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ
↪ ᴡᴀᴛᴛᴘᴀᴅ
ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏꜱ
↪ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 2.1ᴋ
↪ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴊᴀᴍᴇꜱ ɴᴏʀʀɪɴɢᴛᴏɴ x ꜰᴇᴍ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
↪ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ᴜɴʀᴇǫᴜɪᴛᴇᴅ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ʟɪɢʜᴛ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ
English is not my native language, so I apologize for any mistake and if you can help me improve it, I will greatly appreciate it. I hope you enjoy it :D
This OS is the predecessor to the one @pear-1206 asked me for.
I hope it lives up to expectations and fills you with excitement for the next one 😊
The pain of loss was supposedly the worst pain a sane person should feel, but no one told James about the pain of being rejected by the woman you could have loved most in the world, even if, at times, he questioned the twisted way his love for a lady noticeably younger than him had blossomed, even after the strange events that had happened shortly after what should have been his marriage proposal.
They were destined; he'd been more than certain of it, and everyone had told him so. Elizabeth's father, Governor Swann, had secured a lifelong union because of the promise of love, claiming it could further boost the Commodore's career by making him a future governor if he married his daughter. That would have been a resounding success in Norrington's life. Even his parents would have been proud of what he would have achieved had he married, but Elizabeth's true love and certain pirates best left unmentioned had stood in his way, turning that dream into a mere wish that hid nothing more than a layer of falsehood he had created for himself, with unfulfilled hopes and promises.
Even if he had done his best to win her over, Elizabeth would never have loved him, and his feelings would never have been reciprocated in the same way. Her heart and soul belonged to Will, the young blacksmith they had managed to rescue from a shipwreck many years before, who had become the young woman's most tender friend and was welcomed into the governor's arms until he grew up. James had seen him play with Elizabeth like the two little boys they were back then, running around the gardens of the governor's grand house in Port Royal, conversing and learning from each other, although Elizabeth was often scolded for her less-than-exemplary behaviour. She was learning to be a lady, to be respected by everyone and feared by those who deserved it, so she had to remain in line with his teachings and gradually mould herself into a well-behaved young Englishwoman.
All those years by his side were in vain.
A soft voice, though a little loud for what he was used to, caught his attention and woke him from his reverie. Blinking a few times, James returned to reality, to that party Elizabeth and Will had held to let everyone know about their engagement.
When he looked around, he could still see that he was positioned at the table where all the cocktails prepared for that evening were set up; several empty glasses were already on the table, and in his hand, he was holding another half-empty one. He was so absorbed in his grief that he hadn't realized he'd been hogging the table, so he took a couple of steps back, apologizing before leaning against the railing to keep from falling; the alcohol had taken such a toll on him that he didn't trust his own legs or his tongue when it came to speaking.
James's greenish eyes, slightly dull and dim at the moment due to the inhibition of the alcohol in his system, lingered on you. Even if he wasn't in his right mind, mainly due to the alcohol he'd consumed over the last hour since arriving at the party, he knew he didn't know you, as your face looked like he'd never seen it before. But, because of your lightly made-up face and polite mannerisms, he could have easily met you at some party or other and not remembered you because of how similar you were to the rest of the ladies at the party. Elizabeth had gone too far by inviting so many people, but she seemed genuinely happy to announce to everyone that she was getting married.
"Yes," he affirmed, accidentally slurring his words in the process, clearing his throat softly to try not to sound like a drunk, like the ones he'd encountered on his adventure with one of the most odious pirates of the Caribbean. "Are you coming from the bride or the… groom?"
You couldn't help but frown when you heard him mention the last word, the one that mentioned Will as if he were the worst scum anyone had ever encountered. With a gentle grimace that you tried not to make too obvious, which denoted slight confusion, it quickly turned into one of surprise when you were able to distinguish from the entire crowd who was finally James Norrington, the Commodore who had fallen in love with Elizabeth and whom she was supposed to marry, the man Miss Swann had spoken of so many times in your correspondence.
"I'm an old friend of the bride," you mentioned, seeing him nod slightly, adjusting his black tricorn hat. The image was horrifying, even if you didn't want to say it out loud, and it made you feel a little sorry for the man in front of you. "When we were younger, I used to babysit Elizabeth when her father wasn't home. Let's just say her father wanted me as a role model for her adulthood, to be an English lady as society supposedly required—at least for someone of her status—so I took advantage of the times when we were alone to try to teach her a little."
James nodded again, only this time he adjusted his tricorn hat properly—or at least he tried. You, on the other hand, only looked at the man before you when you finished giving him this information, which was perhaps unnecessary, but you hoped it would be enough to start a conversation. The few people you knew were already deep in conversation with other guests, and you didn't want to interrupt.
"You don't sound familiar, and Elizabeth never told me about you," he murmured, snorting when his gaze fell on Will, averting it from him. You then watched as the Commodore turned to face you and the rest of the party in general—both his guests and the lively, happy atmosphere that had been created.
Slowly, despite having planned to drink something to quench your thirst and refresh yourself a bit, you changed direction to position yourself next to James at the railing, tilting your head slightly to try to decipher his gaze. Thanks to the glow of the setting sun, his greenish gaze had turned slightly orange, but the feeling of sadness and pain he'd felt the moment Elizabeth rejected his last attempt to win her over remained. Even if he had come to save her from the pirates, no heroic act would ever compare to the love she felt for Turner, and that was the only curse he would carry with him for the rest of his life. He wasn't Will; he would never have Elizabeth's love, and he had to settle that in his mind as soon as possible so he wouldn't suffer more than necessary.
How did you mend a broken heart?
That's what you both asked yourself. It would be a costly, slow process, and it would require the help of another person to do it. You could see it in his eyes, that soft glow that only those with a broken heart had, and you couldn't judge him. James was supposed to marry Elizabeth, but in return, he chose to let her go just so she could be happy. You'd met countless men, and you had several friends in forced marriages where the man had the final say on whether to continue or stop the marriage they were immersed in, but you'd never seen a real case where it was decided to let the bride go so she could be happy, even if, in the process, a heart that had held the hopes that society and people higher than he had placed in her was broken.
"You may not see it now, but you did the right thing," you said, without taking your eyes off him, while James maintained a more dejected posture, leaning forward with his forearms resting on the railing of the balcony where you were standing. He had never seemed so discouraged, but the situation and the place didn't do much to improve his mood or at least show him with a minimum of seriousness, as usual. "You wouldn't have been happy in a marriage with Elizabeth, no matter how hard you tried to make it so."
"Aside from being an educated lady, are you also aware of the negative effects of love?" he questioned in a sharp tone that surprised both you and him. After these words, James turned his gaze toward you for a second, embarrassed. "Forgive me, that wasn't my intention."
"Don't worry, I understand," you replied, briefly considering whether it was a good idea to reach out and calm him down, or try to show some encouragement and compassion for his situation, holding back that 'need' despite how he seemed to be on the verge of collapse. "But you can be proud of yourself, and both Will and Elizabeth have much to thank you for. If it weren't for you, they would have been separated and carried that pain for the rest of their lives, but you were mature enough and had a big enough heart to put aside your own desires and focus on the longing for the woman you loved." Your words struck a chord with the Commodore. It wasn't meant to end this way for him. He wasn't meant to watch the woman he loved run off with another man. He wasn't meant to let Jack Sparrow escape at the governor's request. He wasn't meant to—"
"Relax, everything will be okay."
Your soft voice and the delicate touch of your fingers against his freshly shaved cheek that morning made him realize he was crying. James Norrington shouldn't cry; men didn't cry, and he should be ashamed of it. But the more he thought about stopping the silly tears that were increasingly flowing from his eyes, the more they flowed uncontrollably. His father would be ashamed if he saw him like this like a little boy crying because life wasn't fair to him.
"It won't be all right," he mumbled through his teeth, trying not to show his pain, trying to calm his wounded heart that was beating in agony, closing his eyes as the tears rolled uncontrollably down his cheeks. You, on the other hand, could only try to talk to him or encourage him to try to get him out of that state of anxiety. "Why would it be all right? I've lost everything."
Your attempt to cheer him up, those words of comfort you had offered, wouldn't be enough, and you knew it. How could everything be all right just like that? You weren't a fairy godmother to grant anyone's wishes, and this definitely wasn't a fairy tale where fate would play its cards in favour of the good people in it; real life wasn't like the Cinderella story, where there would be someone with powers who would help James fulfil his most cherished dreams. There was you.
"You just need someone to help you cope with the pain you're suffering right now, trust me," you murmured, gently grabbing one of the peaks of the tricorn hat so you could raise it and get a better look at James's face. You could see him now looking at you out of the corner of his eye, curious about your words. "I don't plan on going back to London yet; I still have a lot to do in Port Royal. If you'd like, we could meet tomorrow for tea after lunch, when you're a little better from drinking."
Elizabeth, who had managed to escape the small crowd of people who had been chasing her for the past two hours, was able to see your encounter with James from her position, and, with a small smile on her lips, she felt relieved that you had found him. With your love, your sweetness, and your passion for fixing what was broken, she was sure you would bring back the James she and everyone in Port Royal knew.
