Work Text:
The newly-promoted Commodore Norrington looks out at the destruction from the entrance to the fort. It’s terrible from above, seeing the extent of it all in the moonlight, but there’s something equally as terrible about being on the ground. Hearing the crackling of the flames, the occasional groan from someone injured. It is a far cry from the sounds earlier this same day: the drums and fifes that announced his arrival, the quiet as Governor Swann gave him his sword, the pleasant music while the guests milled about.
As to be expected, the parts of town closest to the harbor took the most damage—from cannonfire, at any rate. He’s sure the pirates on foot did much the same with cutlasses and pistols, but he hasn’t walked the streets yet. At least by some small miracle the ships don’t appear to have come to much harm.
James had expected his first battle as commodore to come at sea, or some isolated island where he’d cornered pirates. But not Port Royal. Not for his first, and perhaps not ever.
Whether because of the message hanging in the entrance to the harbor or by word of mouth, pirates have not so much as been sighted from Port Royal in months. And now, in one day, he's arrested one and seen a ship full of others fire upon the town. It cannot be a coincidence.
Checking on Sparrow will have to be one item on the lengthy to-do list. It’s impossible that the pirates came specifically for him, seeing how he’s only just been captured, but that doesn’t mean they hadn’t come across him during their raid and freed him.
That can wait, though. Either the man is gone, or he’s still secure in his cell. There are more pressing matters to take care of first, like—
“Commodore!”
James turns. Gillette is there, looking serious. It’s the face of a man who has difficult news to deliver, though there are too many fires around them—literal and metaphorical—for James to even bother to guess what the lieutenant is about to say.
“I’ve just spoken with the marine you sent to the governor’s mansion.”
At once, James’ focus narrows. Sharpens. Providing Governor Swann had listened to his order, this news isn’t about him. That leaves only one person whom Gillette would deliver an immediate report about.
“He said he found it damaged, but before he went in, a woman approached. She said she was a maid in the household and that the pirates broke in to kidnap Miss Swann.”
“And did they?” James asks.
“The maid said she ran when she had an opening and left Miss Swann behind,” Gillette said, “so she didn’t know. But several people in the streets reported seeing the pirates pulling her away. It seems they intended to take Miss Swann to their ship.”
The timeline is difficult to sort out, as James had been focused on commanding the men at the top of the fort. Yet he clearly remembers how the pirates had pulled back—and not because the Royal Navy had significantly turned the tide. They’d pulled back as if they’d gotten what they had come for. Had the pirates come for Elizabeth?
If she’d been taken on the seas, he can see how it makes sense, grabbing a valuable hostage when she’s right in your grasp. But to come to her home, well-known for its Royal Navy presence, purely to take her? Surely there are easier ways for the rogues to make a profit. Perhaps they just felt the need to attack and then scooped up Elizabeth as a bonus. It still begs the question of why attack now, and why they seemingly retreated not long after taking her, as if she was their target all along?
No, something is going on, but damned if he knows what.
And he doesn’t have the time to ponder it. Not now, knowing that in all likelihood Elizabeth has been taken aboard a pirate ship. Whatever they may want with her, it’s not good.
“Shall I tell the governor, sir?” Gillette asks, breaking him from his thoughts.
“No,” James says. “I’ll do it.”
It's his duty, after all. And perhaps the governor will take it better, coming from him. He can only hope this doesn’t later turn into a talk like the letters he hates to write, the ones telling someone that their loved one will not be returning home from sea.
“Thank you, Gillette. I trust you can handle things here while I speak with the governor.”
Gillette nods and walks towards a trio of marines who look like they need direction. James watches him for a moment before turning towards his office. There’s no point in delaying, as he can only imagine how quickly the story of Elizabeth’s fate will start to circulate. The last thing he wants is for the governor to hear it secondhand.
It wasn't that long ago he’d gone to the governor for another private conversation. He'd been uncomfortable then for a very different reason. Perhaps he shouldn’t have been, as the governor had seemed almost…excited by the prospect of James marrying his daughter. Yet even if the man had explicitly told him beforehand that the match was his wish, James had a feeling he would’ve clenched his hands behind his back just as hard.
These days, staring down a pirate ship is easy. Expressing his feelings? Not so much—as evidenced by his proposal, though he can still cling to the idea that Elizabeth might not have turned him down if she hadn’t gone tumbling over the edge of the fort. The moment he’d looked over, seen the ripples in the water and realized what they meant, rivaled any of his fears from his early days at sea.
And here she is now, taken by pirates. He knows her spirit, loves her for it, but this isn’t the sort of trouble he’d imagined her getting into.
James stops at the door of his office. After a cursory glance confirms his suspicions that it came to no harm during the attack, he knocks twice.
“Who is it?” the governor asks.
“Commodore Norrington.”
A moment later, the door opens. Governor Swann looks a little rattled—how can he not, with how close that cannonball had come to snuffing out his life—but otherwise unharmed.
“Is the battle finished, then?”
“It is.” Though it stings, just a little, that it had been finished by the pirates leaving on their own terms and not by a Royal Navy victory. “Governor—”
“I will be returning home to see Elizabeth. What a day she’s had—first falling from the fort, and now the town coming under attack.”
“Governor,” James says again, this time firmly. “There is something you need to know.”
The governor meets his eyes, and a small part of James is grateful that he usually handles these difficult messages by letter. At least in this case there is still hope.
“Your daughter has been taken by the pirates.”
Governor Swann blinks. Then he steps forward, only to stare at James when he makes no move to leave the doorway.
“We must go after her at once,” the governor insists.
“We cannot.”
“How can you not want to board a ship at this very moment? For God’s sake, Commodore, you proposed to her just this morning.”
But it’s not about what James wants. He feels the same urge that would have driven him over the cliff after Elizabeth had Gillette not held him back.
“It’s in part due to that care that I know we must wait until the morning,” James says, holding the governor’s gaze. “We will go after her—I’ll lead the rescue myself. But we cannot go charging off now without a plan or supplies, because that will only help the pirates.”
A beat.
“She’s all I have.” There’s a tremble in the governor’s voice.
“I know.” Not for the first time, James is acutely aware of the trust the man has in him to have allowed him to propose to Elizabeth. And now… “You must trust that I am taking the best course of action. Believe me, Governor, I will do everything I can to bring her home safely.”
Governor Swann studies his face for a moment longer, then gives a slow nod. At any rate, he doesn’t look like he’s about to charge out of the room. James is tempted to suggest the man get some sleep, but he’ll have as much luck with that as anyone else in Port Royal. The only ones likely to get sleep this night are the unconscious. Or worse.
"Perhaps they just want money," the governor says, “and you won’t have to chase them for long.”
"Perhaps." But even as James says so, doubt still itches. “Even so, it would be wise to have alternatives to giving in to their demands. The word of a pirate is meaningless.”
There’s only a second of silence before there’s some sort of shout from outside and he’s acutely aware of everything that still needs to be done on top of mounting a rescue.
James’ focus lingers on the governor a moment longer. The man who might have become— dare he hope, might still become—his father by law, rather than the one who has given him glimpses of what he could have had as a child.
“I have more to address tonight,” he says finally. “You are welcome to remain here as long as you need, Governor.”
Governor Swann shakes his head. “Thank you for the offer, but I must return home.”
He hadn’t looked away from the burning merchant vessel on their crossing from England, and it doesn’t seem like he intends to look away from the state of the town under his governance.
“Take care where you walk,” James advises. “The pirates may be gone, but their damage remains.”
He makes to leave, but then the governor says something that stops him.
“When you leave to find Elizabeth, I’d like to come with you.”
With furrowed brows, James turns around. He understands the governor’s desire to be aboard, but he’s still a civilian. James will be more than occupied with commanding the ship and keeping his promise. He can’t afford to set aside any of his concentration to make sure Governor Swann doesn’t get killed in the inevitable battles.
“It would be best if you remained here,” James says. “Port Royal will already be losing much of the Royal Navy; it doesn’t need to lose its governor as well.”
“Port Royal thrived in its own way long before I became governor. It can survive me leaving to rescue my daughter.”
The problem in this disagreement, of course, isn’t about Port Royal’s survival. If the governor dies on the journey, Port Royal will eventually find a new governor. But Elizabeth—if she survives—cannot find a replacement father. And James...the governor has been a steady presence in his life for the past eight years, a presence that he greatly values, and he doubts that can be replaced either.
All of the men under his command face these same risks, but it is their duty. Weatherby Swann has none of the training that can help him at sea. James cannot take him aboard in good conscience.
“The ship will still be yours to command,” Governor Swann says, “and I will stay out of the way if there’s trouble. But you cannot ask me to remain behind while Elizabeth is out there.”
James’ jaw twitches. They can keep at this argument all night. The governor won’t feel any less compelled to go after his daughter, and James won’t feel any less compelled to keep her father out of harm’s way. If he attempts to order him to stay, then what? Governor Swann uses his own authority to try to force his way onto the ship? Or the man James has come to appreciate will never look at him the same way again?
“Very well,” he says finally, hoping he won’t regret these words. “I plan for us to set off tomorrow, once we supply the Interceptor and discuss the best course to follow.”
“I’ll be there.”
Of that, James has no doubt.
He nods in way of farewell and leaves, his mind returning to shuffling through his tasks. The wheels can be set in motion for Elizabeth’s rescue by ensuring his men are ready to load the supplies and his officers are prepared to pore over a map in the morning. Otherwise, the brunt of that mission will begin tomorrow.
Tonight, his focus is the town he’s spent years freeing and protecting from piracy. The damage the pirates have caused in one night, in one relatively short attack, is a stark reminder of the necessity of his responsibility.
Even with the head start he's allowing them—the one he has to give them, because he can't go rushing off without supplies, without a heading, without a plan, not after seeing the destruction they’ve wreaked on Port Royal—the Interceptor will catch them. It's not the mission he'd imagined for her first, but it will end the same way: with pirates shown their place.