gaya_hriive (gaya_hriive) wrote in piratechallenge,

Challenge # 5: Which Hurts More?

Title: Which Hurts More?
Author: Gaya Hriive
Pairing/Characters: Mention of J/E, Norrington, Will
Word Count: 691
Rating: R for violence
Genre: Angst
Summary: Norrington tries to beat the truth out of Will.
Disclaimer: Violence and snark
Spoilers: erm, DMC just to be on the safe side
Warnings: Gratuitous whipping.
Notes: If you all like this then I may consider turning it into a full blown fic. R&R!!!
Special Thanks: To everyone! I love you all!

Which Hurts More?


The dungeon cell of the Port Royal prison was bleak and damp. The stench of stale blood and other bodily fluids made the bile stick to the back of William Turner's throat. He tried to breathe without vomiting and it was a hard task.

Footsteps rang out and reverberated from the cold stonewalls and Will stilled himself. He knew who was coming and what would happen when he got there. Will tightened his hands around the chains that bound his wrists and slowed his breathing.

The steps ceased and there was a moment of still silence before a deep and menacing voice spoke out.

"Your respite has been long enough Mr. Turner. I think it is now time to resume our activities. For every question you answer truthfully, I will only issue five lashes. For every lie that rolls from your tongue you shall receive ten."

Will drew a careful breath and turned his head as much as he could. His back was tight from the whippings and though healing, each movement tore through his body like a fresh wound.

"Norrington, I do not understand why you continue this. I have told you everything that I know."

"Ah, you have told me some of what you know. The rest you have carefully hidden in riddles and lies. I will have the truth and if you refuse then I will beat it out of you."

Will heard the whip crack through the air seconds before he felt the skin of his back ignite in burning pain. He breathed in quickly and held it. The blood almost tickled as it trailed in fine rivulets down his back and sides. He tried to open his eyes but the world swam as Norrington's voice found his ears.

"Once more I shall ask, Mr. Turner; where are Jack Sparrow and Elizabeth Swann?"

Will coughed and shook his head as best he could. The pain ripped through him like some invisible knife and the blood began to flow faster from the deepest of the wounds.

"I've told you, they anchored around the bend from the bay and I swam to shore." his voice dripped with pain and bitterness at the memory of such a betrayal.

"And why did they not accompany you back to Port Royal?"

"Elizabeth did not wish to return. She decided that a life of freedom and piracy was better than going to the gallows. Jack had no desire to hang either. They left together.”


Again the whip cracked and Will screamed his pain as the hard leather made fresh grooves in the bloody mess of his back. He dropped his head to touch his chest and tried to breath, but the air was thick and it seemed to stick just inside his throat.


Norrington moved beside Will and got close enough to his ear to whisper. The sound was mocking and Will valiantly fought the anger that was rising within him.


“I wonder which hurts more, Mr. Turner, being whipped or having to live with the fact that your beloved left you for a filthy, disloyal, drunken, pirate.”


Will laughed a quick harsh chuckle and choked on his words.


“You may whip me to your heart’s content Commodore, and the gashes will heal over time. But the wounds that have been left me by Elizabeth and Jack Sparrow will forever be fresh and bleeding. However, think on this, for if you will whip me then I wish there to be a reason. Elizabeth pledged her heart to you to save me and reneged once I was safe. So which hurts more, Commodore Norrington, being forced to become a pirate to save yourself, or being used and then rejected for a simple blacksmith?”


Norrington screamed and it held anger and a promise of a good thrashing. He crashed the whip down onto Will’s back repeatedly, never pausing between his lashes. Will laughed, a ragged, broken sound and listened to the slashing of the whip as he fell into gloried unconsciousness.
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