spacebabie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
spacebabie) wrote2007-01-06 10:11 pm
spacebabie) wrote2007-01-06 10:11 pm
Entry tags:
Gnetleman Pirate 3
Previous chapter
Chapter2 Sneaking Out
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all related characters belong to Walt Disney, Gore, Jerry, Ted and Terry.
A/N: Just a fun and odd little fic that had sprouted recently. Takes place right after Curse of the Black Pearl.
Gentleman Pirate
Chapter 3: The Able Bodied Crew
-
The young man standing before Norrington was indeed Gillette. The boyish smile and bright red hair, which as kept in a braid and not short, and bright brown eyes belonged to only one man, except this was not the Gillette Norrington, knew.
“Are you feeling all right, Captain?” Gillette asked. His face did not have a full beard like Norrington had in the smithy. It did have the roughness of a few days away from the razor.
“I am not quite sure anymore,” Norrington wanted to reach out and grab the braid, or the scrap of cloth tied at the end. The same material was used to create Gillette’s scarf. “Clearly you are not with the Royal Navy.”
Gillette stiffened. “Course not.” He said it as if he were insulted.
Norrington held out his hands. “Sorry. I may have hit my head and am currently suffering from selective amnesia.” The cover story worked for Turner and Elizabeth. It should work for Gillette and the others aboard. “How long have you been a pirate?”
“Since I’ve been a wee lad,” Gillette folded his arms. He wore two shirts. One had the collar and the sleeves removed and was slipped on over the other shirt.
“How long have you been working for me?”
“For several years,” his expression changed to one of concern. “I started out a mere crew hand and now I’m your first mate. You do remember, James?”
Norrington closed his eyes and nodded. “The details are quite not clear but some of it is coming back to me.”
“Do you wish to take the helm?” Anamaria asked. She had disposed of the bag Norrington had given her.
“It might not be the best,” Gillette whispered. “Considering what happened to your head.”
“Correct,” Norrington whispered back. “I want you to steer us out of here, Anamaria. I’m still a bit hung over.”
“Aye, Captain,” She nodded before she grasped the wheel spokes.
“I’m going to be in my cabin,” Norrington called out so the rest of the crew could hear. “Have some tea sent up, Mr. Gillette.”
“Yes, Captain,” Gillette, said. “I will have word sent out. You do remember where your cabin is?”
“That I do know.” His dream may have altered his ship into a pirate vessel, but it was still his. He knew the layout from top to bottom. “I did have an interesting dream while I was passed out.”
Gillette nodded.
“I dreamed that I was Commodore James Norrington of the Royal Navy and Jack Sparrow was the pirate I swore to hunt down, and you were one of my lieutenants.”
The younger man stared at him for a few seconds before he smiled again. He shook, trying not to laugh, but little snickers and snorts escaped.
“Yes, it is something to laugh at,” Norrington chuckled. “Can you imagine myself as one of those stuffy Navy types?”
“Of course not,” Gillette shook his head. “You might upstage them with your own polite manners, but you just wouldn’t fit in to their life style.”
“No, I would not.”
-
Norrington waited until the door behind him had closed before he ceased his fake laughter and lost his smile. “This current farce is more laughable.” He stared at his hands; at least his fingers were not over laid with gaudy rings. “Or it would be if I would just wake up, or was told this story.” If the dream had happened to Gillette or Groves and they told him he would chuckle politely and shake his head.
He needed to sit down and think. The design of the furniture in his cabin was the same, if not worn and in need of good polishing. Too much had happened so far in his dream and he needed to view everything that had happened.
“What was that saying,” he pulled out the chair to his desk and sat down. “Am I man dreaming I am a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming I am a man?” Considering how clear the details were and some of the physical sensations he had felt it did seem like he was a pirate who had dreamed he was a commodore. He pushed that thought out of his head immediately. He was a man of law and order. He belonged to the Navy. His reality was clearer than his current situation. Now if only he knew how to wake up.
Norrington retraced his steps in his mind. Before Turner rudely woke him he was on his way home from the Crystal Rose. He did feel very drunk, maybe not drunk, but he was extremely drowsy and after all it was from one glass of wine. The wine. Why did he not realize it sooner? Somebody slipped a bit of a potion or placed a spell on his drink. It was something that had either sent him to this alternate world or exchanged his soul with the Norrington of this world.
“And probably woke up to find himself as a commodore,” Norrington pulled back the sleeve on his right arm. “What am I saying?” The logical part of his mind told him there was no such thing as magic. Everything that happened could be explained by science. “And there is no such thing as cursed gold that turns men into living skeletons.” He should have known better to doubt the possibility of magic.
He still didn’t know what kind of a pirate he was supposed to be. All he could gather from what Turner and Gillette was that his pirate self was just as well mannered as he was. He stared at the blistered flesh in the shape of a “P” just above his wrist. He had heard about the sound of the flesh sizzle and even the foul scent that lingered in the air after.
His tattoo was a subject of a bit more curiosity. He had wondered when his other self had gotten such a marking, and was it before or after he had received the brand and why was it of the first letter of his last name? Jack Sparrow had the same bird as that of his last name flying over the ocean. It meant the fool enjoyed being a free bird of the sea. There was a bit of a curled accent at the upper right and lower left of the letter and it was filled with tiny floral like swirls.
“Enough of that,” he pulled the sleeve back up, accidentally knocking over an unused lantern onto the floor. “Well done, James.” He grumbled as he pushed his chair back and bent down to pick up the lantern. He was lucky it wasn’t broken, or the candle inside wasn’t lit.
An odd squeak brought his attention to under his desk and to the outline of a lean and furry small animal.
“My ship has rats?” He couldn’t believe any version of him would stand to have a rat in the captain’s cabin, even a pirate version of himself.
The creature wasn’t a rat, and apparently didn’t take to well to being referred a one. It bolted from it’s hiding place, leaping onto Norrington’s head, sinking his claws through the mass of unwashed locks and into the skin before it jumped off.
“Bloody weasel,” Norrington hissed. He could feel the sting from where it’s claws had dug in. He spun around to see where the little beast had run off.
The weasel in question was actually a sable brown ferret with dark brown legs and a white face with a dark band across its eyes. The creature lowered its body and raised its bushy tail while it made a high-pitched screech.
“Captain Norrington?” The knock at the door distracted Norrington’s attention from the ferret. He knew that voice. It belonged to one of the marines, Sergeant Murtogg to be exact. “I have your tea.”
“You may enter,” Norrington rose to his feet.
The door to his cabin opened and the ferret ran outside.
“So that’s where you gone to,” Murtogg said as entered, carrying a tray with a teapot, a cup and a sugar bowl. “Are you certain this is all you want, Captain?”
“Place it on my desk,” Norrington didn’t look at the man as he stormed after the ferret.
The ferret ran past the rest of the crew and didn’t stop until it had reached one man in particular. It climbed up his leg to his back where it made itself a perch on the man’s shoulders.
“Where have you been, Arrow?” The man’s voice caused Norrington to freeze in his footsteps. First Gillette, then Murtogg and now Groves?
“Mister Groves?” Norrington addressed the man.
“Was he sleeping under your desk again?” Groves turned around. He had a bit of a beard on the end of his chin, small and pointed and also had a thin line of hairs between his nose and upper lip. A small and simple hat rested on the top of his head. “Did he startle you captain?” He reached up to pet the top of his ferret’s head. “I heard you were not feeling well.”
“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Groves,” Norrington kept his eyes on the black and white face of the ferret. The animal’s beady eyes were fixed on himself. “He did jump on my head.”
“Now that wasn’t nice Arrow,” Groves reached up to pet the ferret on the top of it’s head, all the while Arrow continued to stare at Norrington.
“Have you rested enough?” Anamaria asked. She was still steering the ship.
“No I haven’t,” Norrington examined his crew. Gillette, Groves and Murtogg were amongst them and if Murtogg was aboard then Mullroy was also bound to be somewhere within the ship. Those two were rarely separated. As he studied the rest of his crew he recognized them as either a naval officer or a marine. “I still haven’t had my tea and I need more time to rest and think.”
-
Norrington stared at the cooling cup of tea. Everything was wrong. Everything in this alternate reality was wrong. No wonder he wasn’t able to find any of Jack Sparrow’s crew amongst the men. They were probably amongst the navy and marines. It was just bloody wonderful. Sparrow and his men were on the right side of the law and Norrington and his soldiers were pirates. Mr. Brown was a hard worker and not a drunkard. The only ones who were the same were Turner and Elizabeth as well as Anamaria and the short pirate, Marty. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised Elizabeth wasn’t Mr. Brown’s daughter and Turner the governor’s son. He could understand why Anamaria and Marty were still pirates. The navy did not allow women to join their ranks, nor did they allow people who were the same color as her. Marty may be a hard working and determined sailor, but the Navy would have turned him away because of his height.
He sat back and took a taste of the tea and frowned. He forgot to put in some sugar. How many realities were there? Was there a world where he was the governor of Port Royal? Was there a world where he was desperate and brash youth who would do anything to save the woman he had loved? Could there have been a world where he was still himself and Elizabeth truly loved him?
“Best not to think about that?” He stirred in some sugar. He just had to pretend to be his pirate self and work with his pirate crew to find what ever he needs to find to send him back to his world, the real world.
“James?” Gillette knocked on the door.
“You may come in,” Norrington took another sip from his cup and turned to face the younger man.
“Sorry to intrude, but Anamaria needs a heading.” Gillette stood as rigid as tall as his lieutenant self, even had his hands behind his back.
“A heading?” Norrington raised his eyebrows.
“We have made some distance between ourselves and Port Royal. She wants to know where you plan on going.”
That was a good question. Norrington knew he wanted to find a way to reverse the spell. He didn’t know where that would be. “I am not exactly sure myself.”
“Have you looked at your compass?” Gillette pointed towards Norrington’s belt.
“It’s broken.’
“It’s not pointing at any direction?”
Norrington removed the compass from his belt and raised the lid. The red arrow was pointing towards a north by northwest direction. “It’s still pointing at the wrong direction.”
“I thought the direction never pointed wrong as long as it was where you wanted to go.”
Norrington just stared at him. Baffled, he glanced at the compass again. “North by Northwest.”
Gillette nodded. “I’ll let Anamaria know.”
Norrington blinked after Gillette had left and stared at the compass again. Was there more to it than he had thought. Well at least they were headed somewhere, and hopefully the somewhere will have the answers he is looking for.
Chapter2 Sneaking Out
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all related characters belong to Walt Disney, Gore, Jerry, Ted and Terry.
A/N: Just a fun and odd little fic that had sprouted recently. Takes place right after Curse of the Black Pearl.
Gentleman Pirate
Chapter 3: The Able Bodied Crew
-
The young man standing before Norrington was indeed Gillette. The boyish smile and bright red hair, which as kept in a braid and not short, and bright brown eyes belonged to only one man, except this was not the Gillette Norrington, knew.
“Are you feeling all right, Captain?” Gillette asked. His face did not have a full beard like Norrington had in the smithy. It did have the roughness of a few days away from the razor.
“I am not quite sure anymore,” Norrington wanted to reach out and grab the braid, or the scrap of cloth tied at the end. The same material was used to create Gillette’s scarf. “Clearly you are not with the Royal Navy.”
Gillette stiffened. “Course not.” He said it as if he were insulted.
Norrington held out his hands. “Sorry. I may have hit my head and am currently suffering from selective amnesia.” The cover story worked for Turner and Elizabeth. It should work for Gillette and the others aboard. “How long have you been a pirate?”
“Since I’ve been a wee lad,” Gillette folded his arms. He wore two shirts. One had the collar and the sleeves removed and was slipped on over the other shirt.
“How long have you been working for me?”
“For several years,” his expression changed to one of concern. “I started out a mere crew hand and now I’m your first mate. You do remember, James?”
Norrington closed his eyes and nodded. “The details are quite not clear but some of it is coming back to me.”
“Do you wish to take the helm?” Anamaria asked. She had disposed of the bag Norrington had given her.
“It might not be the best,” Gillette whispered. “Considering what happened to your head.”
“Correct,” Norrington whispered back. “I want you to steer us out of here, Anamaria. I’m still a bit hung over.”
“Aye, Captain,” She nodded before she grasped the wheel spokes.
“I’m going to be in my cabin,” Norrington called out so the rest of the crew could hear. “Have some tea sent up, Mr. Gillette.”
“Yes, Captain,” Gillette, said. “I will have word sent out. You do remember where your cabin is?”
“That I do know.” His dream may have altered his ship into a pirate vessel, but it was still his. He knew the layout from top to bottom. “I did have an interesting dream while I was passed out.”
Gillette nodded.
“I dreamed that I was Commodore James Norrington of the Royal Navy and Jack Sparrow was the pirate I swore to hunt down, and you were one of my lieutenants.”
The younger man stared at him for a few seconds before he smiled again. He shook, trying not to laugh, but little snickers and snorts escaped.
“Yes, it is something to laugh at,” Norrington chuckled. “Can you imagine myself as one of those stuffy Navy types?”
“Of course not,” Gillette shook his head. “You might upstage them with your own polite manners, but you just wouldn’t fit in to their life style.”
“No, I would not.”
-
Norrington waited until the door behind him had closed before he ceased his fake laughter and lost his smile. “This current farce is more laughable.” He stared at his hands; at least his fingers were not over laid with gaudy rings. “Or it would be if I would just wake up, or was told this story.” If the dream had happened to Gillette or Groves and they told him he would chuckle politely and shake his head.
He needed to sit down and think. The design of the furniture in his cabin was the same, if not worn and in need of good polishing. Too much had happened so far in his dream and he needed to view everything that had happened.
“What was that saying,” he pulled out the chair to his desk and sat down. “Am I man dreaming I am a butterfly, or a butterfly dreaming I am a man?” Considering how clear the details were and some of the physical sensations he had felt it did seem like he was a pirate who had dreamed he was a commodore. He pushed that thought out of his head immediately. He was a man of law and order. He belonged to the Navy. His reality was clearer than his current situation. Now if only he knew how to wake up.
Norrington retraced his steps in his mind. Before Turner rudely woke him he was on his way home from the Crystal Rose. He did feel very drunk, maybe not drunk, but he was extremely drowsy and after all it was from one glass of wine. The wine. Why did he not realize it sooner? Somebody slipped a bit of a potion or placed a spell on his drink. It was something that had either sent him to this alternate world or exchanged his soul with the Norrington of this world.
“And probably woke up to find himself as a commodore,” Norrington pulled back the sleeve on his right arm. “What am I saying?” The logical part of his mind told him there was no such thing as magic. Everything that happened could be explained by science. “And there is no such thing as cursed gold that turns men into living skeletons.” He should have known better to doubt the possibility of magic.
He still didn’t know what kind of a pirate he was supposed to be. All he could gather from what Turner and Gillette was that his pirate self was just as well mannered as he was. He stared at the blistered flesh in the shape of a “P” just above his wrist. He had heard about the sound of the flesh sizzle and even the foul scent that lingered in the air after.
His tattoo was a subject of a bit more curiosity. He had wondered when his other self had gotten such a marking, and was it before or after he had received the brand and why was it of the first letter of his last name? Jack Sparrow had the same bird as that of his last name flying over the ocean. It meant the fool enjoyed being a free bird of the sea. There was a bit of a curled accent at the upper right and lower left of the letter and it was filled with tiny floral like swirls.
“Enough of that,” he pulled the sleeve back up, accidentally knocking over an unused lantern onto the floor. “Well done, James.” He grumbled as he pushed his chair back and bent down to pick up the lantern. He was lucky it wasn’t broken, or the candle inside wasn’t lit.
An odd squeak brought his attention to under his desk and to the outline of a lean and furry small animal.
“My ship has rats?” He couldn’t believe any version of him would stand to have a rat in the captain’s cabin, even a pirate version of himself.
The creature wasn’t a rat, and apparently didn’t take to well to being referred a one. It bolted from it’s hiding place, leaping onto Norrington’s head, sinking his claws through the mass of unwashed locks and into the skin before it jumped off.
“Bloody weasel,” Norrington hissed. He could feel the sting from where it’s claws had dug in. He spun around to see where the little beast had run off.
The weasel in question was actually a sable brown ferret with dark brown legs and a white face with a dark band across its eyes. The creature lowered its body and raised its bushy tail while it made a high-pitched screech.
“Captain Norrington?” The knock at the door distracted Norrington’s attention from the ferret. He knew that voice. It belonged to one of the marines, Sergeant Murtogg to be exact. “I have your tea.”
“You may enter,” Norrington rose to his feet.
The door to his cabin opened and the ferret ran outside.
“So that’s where you gone to,” Murtogg said as entered, carrying a tray with a teapot, a cup and a sugar bowl. “Are you certain this is all you want, Captain?”
“Place it on my desk,” Norrington didn’t look at the man as he stormed after the ferret.
The ferret ran past the rest of the crew and didn’t stop until it had reached one man in particular. It climbed up his leg to his back where it made itself a perch on the man’s shoulders.
“Where have you been, Arrow?” The man’s voice caused Norrington to freeze in his footsteps. First Gillette, then Murtogg and now Groves?
“Mister Groves?” Norrington addressed the man.
“Was he sleeping under your desk again?” Groves turned around. He had a bit of a beard on the end of his chin, small and pointed and also had a thin line of hairs between his nose and upper lip. A small and simple hat rested on the top of his head. “Did he startle you captain?” He reached up to pet the top of his ferret’s head. “I heard you were not feeling well.”
“Thank you for your concern, Mr. Groves,” Norrington kept his eyes on the black and white face of the ferret. The animal’s beady eyes were fixed on himself. “He did jump on my head.”
“Now that wasn’t nice Arrow,” Groves reached up to pet the ferret on the top of it’s head, all the while Arrow continued to stare at Norrington.
“Have you rested enough?” Anamaria asked. She was still steering the ship.
“No I haven’t,” Norrington examined his crew. Gillette, Groves and Murtogg were amongst them and if Murtogg was aboard then Mullroy was also bound to be somewhere within the ship. Those two were rarely separated. As he studied the rest of his crew he recognized them as either a naval officer or a marine. “I still haven’t had my tea and I need more time to rest and think.”
-
Norrington stared at the cooling cup of tea. Everything was wrong. Everything in this alternate reality was wrong. No wonder he wasn’t able to find any of Jack Sparrow’s crew amongst the men. They were probably amongst the navy and marines. It was just bloody wonderful. Sparrow and his men were on the right side of the law and Norrington and his soldiers were pirates. Mr. Brown was a hard worker and not a drunkard. The only ones who were the same were Turner and Elizabeth as well as Anamaria and the short pirate, Marty. Now that he thought about it, he was surprised Elizabeth wasn’t Mr. Brown’s daughter and Turner the governor’s son. He could understand why Anamaria and Marty were still pirates. The navy did not allow women to join their ranks, nor did they allow people who were the same color as her. Marty may be a hard working and determined sailor, but the Navy would have turned him away because of his height.
He sat back and took a taste of the tea and frowned. He forgot to put in some sugar. How many realities were there? Was there a world where he was the governor of Port Royal? Was there a world where he was desperate and brash youth who would do anything to save the woman he had loved? Could there have been a world where he was still himself and Elizabeth truly loved him?
“Best not to think about that?” He stirred in some sugar. He just had to pretend to be his pirate self and work with his pirate crew to find what ever he needs to find to send him back to his world, the real world.
“James?” Gillette knocked on the door.
“You may come in,” Norrington took another sip from his cup and turned to face the younger man.
“Sorry to intrude, but Anamaria needs a heading.” Gillette stood as rigid as tall as his lieutenant self, even had his hands behind his back.
“A heading?” Norrington raised his eyebrows.
“We have made some distance between ourselves and Port Royal. She wants to know where you plan on going.”
That was a good question. Norrington knew he wanted to find a way to reverse the spell. He didn’t know where that would be. “I am not exactly sure myself.”
“Have you looked at your compass?” Gillette pointed towards Norrington’s belt.
“It’s broken.’
“It’s not pointing at any direction?”
Norrington removed the compass from his belt and raised the lid. The red arrow was pointing towards a north by northwest direction. “It’s still pointing at the wrong direction.”
“I thought the direction never pointed wrong as long as it was where you wanted to go.”
Norrington just stared at him. Baffled, he glanced at the compass again. “North by Northwest.”
Gillette nodded. “I’ll let Anamaria know.”
Norrington blinked after Gillette had left and stared at the compass again. Was there more to it than he had thought. Well at least they were headed somewhere, and hopefully the somewhere will have the answers he is looking for.
no subject
no subject