estelendur (estelendur) wrote in piratechallenge,

Challenge the sixth

Title: Sweet and Twisted
Author: Estelendur
Pairing: Sparrington, Jack/OC (male)
Word Count: 1522
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Some hurt/comfort. Also a bit of romance, a bit of violence, a bit of snark, a bit of "awww" (I hope)
Summary: Norrington's been taken captive by Jack's crew.
Disclaimer: I'm only borrowing them, with every intention of bringing them back, in more or less the condition they were borrowed in.
Spoilers: Spoilers for parts of DMC
Warnings: None.
Notes: I thought this one was done after Jack's scar story, but nooo, it wanted to continue. I'm glad it did, though. This was written for the specific purpose of using the line "That's the sweetest, most twisted thing anyone's ever done for me."
Special Thanks: To witchbabyweetz for being a wonderful beta, and to Dan Shive for coming up with great dialogue in his comic.

Norrington sat in the brig of the Black Pearl, cursing the luck that had him encounter Jack Sparrow's very angry crew with his own ship's crew nowhere to be found. They had descended upon him like a pack of angry wolves, and carried him off to be locked up in the hold of their ship. As a result, he was bound from shoulders to feet, waiting in sullen silence, unable to move without aggravating any of the various injuries the Pearl's crew had inflicted upon him.

"Well now, what do I see before me? The great Captain Norrington, captured and held prisoner in my ship." Jack Sparrow peered through the brig door at him.

Norrington spat at Jack. "Damn you, Sparrow," he growled.

"Ah, ah, ah, can't be having with any of that now," Jack scolded, waving a finger at him.

"If you're going to kill me, please do it now, rather than humiliating me further." Norrington glared into Jack's amused gaze.

"Me? Humiliate you? Why, James, I wouldn't do that." Jack grinned. "It is James, isn't it?"

"It's Captain Norrington, Mister Sparrow." He shifted uncomfortably.

"Captain Sparrow, if you please, James. Or Jack, if you must leave off the title. After all, you're here on my ship." Jack made a sweeping gesture to indicate their surroundings.

"As if I could forget. Captain," he added venomously. "You already have humiliated me. Just look at me: tied up so that I can't even move, black and blue from being beaten when I was already helpless. If that isn't humiliation, I don't know what is."

For the first time, Jack seemed to noticed how Norrington winced whenever he shifted even a bit. "Oh, James, I'm so sorry." He entered the cell and began untying the ropes binding Norrington.

"How do you know I won't attack you?" Norrington asked, genuinely curious.

"Good question, James." Jack stopped and explained. "You see, my crew has already given me your weapons, so I know you aren't armed. You yourself have already said they beat you when you were down, and I saw how it hurts when you move, so you can't fight with any kind of speed or force. I also know you won't attack me because," and here he paused, looking at Norrington with unnerving certainty, "you owe me." He promptly resumed freeing Norrington.

"I owe you?" Norrington yelped, outraged.

"Yes, you owe me," Jack said, continuing without a pause. "If I hadn't led you to the chest of Davy Jones, you'd still be a drunkard what takes orders from pirates. If I hadn't picked you up in Tortuga, you would still be drinking yourself to sleep every night. Or you'd be dead. Who'm I to say, really? If I hadn't, in fact, gotten the Black Pearl back from that bastard Barbossa, you'd still have to deal with undead pirates attacking the colonies under your protection." The last of Norrington's bonds fell away.

Norrington frowned. He hated to admit it, but Jack was right. "If I owe you so much, why don't you just kill me now?"

"Why d'you keep thinking I'm going to kill you, James? I'm not."

"Why shouldn't you? I've tried to hang you, tried to kill you, chased you all over the bloody Caribbean, and left you to die at the hands of Davy Jones. Go ahead. I'm sure it won't make much difference to the rest of the world."

Sitting next to Norrington, Jack pulled his shirt aside to reveal two ugly marks on the upper right part of his chest. "Y'see these, mate?"

Norrington nodded.

"Y'know how I got them? Of course you don't. I'll tell you.

"These scars are from a little adventure I had before I was Captain of the Pearl. I was in Tortuga–makes sense, aye? Anything can happen in Tortuga. So there I was, just a young man, almost still a boy, all alone in the most piratey port in the entire Caribbean. Of course, the first thing I did was go get drunk. Bloody stupid, that.

"I woke up in the hold of a ship, somewhat like this one but nowhere near as fine. I'd been kidnapped by the Captain. He thought me a very fine-looking lad, which indeed I was. Anyway, we became bedmates, and later we became friends, even." Jack smiled, a distant look in his eyes. "Damn lucky, I was.

"But one day, we had put into port and he and I ran into a gypsy woman. She said she was a gypsy, anyway. She tried to put a spell on the Captain. She claimed that she'd free him of the evil influences put upon him by his enemies. Naturally, I was one of said evil influences. She wanted to get into his bed too, you see.

"Long story short, we got into a fight, me and him against her, she had a gun, she shot us both, he died, I ended up with these pretty scars."

"Was there a point to that story?" Norrington asked, exasperated.

"Yes, dear James, there was. The point is, I swear on these scars that I will not kill you or allow you to be killed while you remain on my ship. I swear by the memory of the man for whom I received the bullets that made these scars that I will not intentionally humiliate you or allow you to be humiliated while you remain on my ship. Savvy?" Jack looked utterly serious.

Norrington sat stunned, unable to comprehend why Jack would have done such a thing for him. "Why? Why would you promise protection to a man who should be your sworn enemy, and why would you swear on–on the memory of someone you cared for?"

"Because, James," Jack said, leaning closer, "I don't want you to come to any harm. I would be very upset if you died here. And, I happen to think you are a very fine-looking man." He grinned.

Norrington blinked. "That is the sweetest, most twisted thing anyone's ever done for me," he thought. "Swearing on his scars that I will remain unharmed..." Out loud, he said simply, "Thank you. I suppose."

"So what can I do for you, James Norrington?" Jack asked cheerfully, breaking the solemn mood that had lingered.

"I suppose asking to be returned to my ship is out of the question?"

"Of course it is. What would be the point of me swearing those oaths if you were just going to leave?"

"Then may I at least leave this godawful cell? Something for my bruises would also be nice, but I suppose that would be too much to ask."

"No, of course not," Jack exclaimed, standing. "Come to my cabin." He offered a hand to Norrington, who took it without thinking. "First, lose the coat," Jack said, pulling it off of Norrington's shoulders. "You're too recognisable with it on. Now, come with me."

Jack led him through the ship, ignoring the dirty looks various members of the crew directed at them.

When they finally entered Jack's cabin, Norrington looked at the closed door with a mixture of relief and apprehension: relief to escape the eyes of the crew; apprehension at being alone with a pirate who not only had every right to want him dead, but had expressed an interest in him as a bedmate only minutes before.

Jack went over to a small chest and rummaged through it. "Go sit on my bunk," he called to Norrington, who obeyed. Jack pulled out bandages, a bottle, and a small jar.

"This stuff's wonderful," he said, sitting by Norrington. "It's to heal bruises, and it's almost miraculous how well it works. You'll be wanting this," he added, handing the bottle to Norrington. "Go on, drink some."

The stuff turned out to be some kind of impossibly strong alcohol, which burned as Norrington swallowed it.

"Can you get undressed by yourself, or will I have to do it for you?" Jack asked.

"Undressed?" Norrington asked. He vaguely knew he should be more upset, but the world was beginning to go delightfully soft around the edges.

"Ah, I'll have to do it for you, then. That stuff you drank's more than just alcohol; should've mentioned."

Jack unfastened and removed Norrington's shirt and trousers with more care than he'd used for the ropes, and an improbable gentleness Norrington would never have expected. Then he opened the jar of salve and began smoothing it over the bruises on Norrington's body.

The sensation of Jack's salve-slicked hands caressing and soothing Norrington's myriad of aches blended with the blurring of his senses to nearly overwhelm his mind. He revelled in the simple pleasure of having someone else's hands on him, and ignored all attempts at rational thought. Thus it was that he didn't notice when he fell asleep.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

James stirred slightly in his sleep. Jack smiled and stroked James' hair. "I'm sorry for whatever it is the world's done to you, luv," he whispered. "I'm sorry for what my crew's done. And I'll make it up to you, I promise." He kissed James' hand, sealing his promise.
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