The Tree of Woe
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Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
2,270
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Pirates of the Caribbean (All) › General
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
3
Views:
2,270
Reviews:
1
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Pirates of the Caribbean movie series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
The Tree of Woe Part 3
Title: The Tree of Woe
Style: Prose
Genre: Drama, Angst
Rating: NC - 17
Length: Drabble
Pairings: None
Warnings: AU, AWE, Extreme violence, Norrington torture, Character Death…
Authoress: LJ – cassiopaya, GJ – smw006
Characters: James Norrington, Davy Jones, Bootstrap, The Crew of The Flying Dutchman, and Tia Dalma.
Word Count: 595
Inspiration: Conan the Barbarian
Dedication: mrs_norrington, spamala97, and lastwordy_mcgee
Summary: James Norrington chooses not to die.
Notes: Part 3! I lied! This just took a turn for the depressing! Murtogg and Mullroy guest star in this chapter!
Betas: pearly_dreams and molassesturtle
***
The world was rendered in a blue-grey haze of sound and fury and though James Norrington still lived, bound to the mast at the very citadel of violence, the only thought that came to mind was that if this was indeed Hell, it was quite impressive though Dante had rendered it incorrectly. Fucking Italian.
The Admiral smiled, it was quite a blessing to be tied to the mast, else he would have been washed off the deck and swept into the gurgling, gaping maw of Hell. The gull seemed to be taking things rather calmly as it nestled into the crook of Norrington’s calf and thigh. James wondered if it would have flown away with the flock if he had not broken its wing…instead the bird serenely preened.
He found himself thoroughly amused by the antics of the crab; scuttling about the deck, snipping at the corpse of Mr. Mercer, annoying the gull from time to time. The little white crab now seemed to be dancing for him, its pinchers snipping wildly and its legs tapping against the deck. James found he was amused by everything, especially Jones’ earlier equivocations. That conversation might not have even been real, for Norrington knew there was fresh water and other victuals on the Dutchman.
Oh yes, James Norrington knew he was dying and he had never thought it would be such a pleasant and light-headed sensation. Naturally his increasing good humors had to be interrupted by two faces he had never thought to see again. The marines, Murtogg and Mullroy, in their ridiculous EITC uniforms were trying to loose him from the mast.
Mind the crab, if you please, Mr. Murtogg. It amuses me.
The marine could not hear him and because he could not see the crab Murtogg did not know that he had come within an inch of squishing it. Nor could Murtogg hear what his superior was saving, but he saw the swollen, chapped lips move. It was a shame, truly a shame, that Mullroy could not untie the ropes that kept Norrington tied to the mast. It was for the best; what would have been the point of carrying about James’ corpse?
The Admiral looked up at his faithful marines. There were tears streaming down Murtogg’s distorted face and behind him Mullroy was wearing a numb mask with wide, dry eyes. There were so many things he wanted to say to them and he could only hope that his dulling green eye conveyed his message:
You are good men and you have served me faithfully. I could not have received better men and there is naught else you can do to serve me. I am a dead man. You both still have a chance. Carpe diem, men. Now go. Go.
And James Norrington did mouth the word “go” to his marines and they understood. Mullroy helped his mate up and with a final salute Murtogg followed his fellow to safety. In any other situation, James would have felt such heartbreak at this moment, but now he felt only a deep sense of peace spread throughout him.
The white crab crawled up Norrington’s hands and began to work the loosened cords with its pincers. The gull, not wanting to be outdone, waddled behind James and pecked at the threading rope and intermittently hissed at the little crab. As the binds broke the gull buried its beak into remaining ties on the Admiral’s left hand while the crab clutched the cord coiled about his right hand. When James Norrington hit the water he was already dead.
The End of Chapter 3
Style: Prose
Genre: Drama, Angst
Rating: NC - 17
Length: Drabble
Pairings: None
Warnings: AU, AWE, Extreme violence, Norrington torture, Character Death…
Authoress: LJ – cassiopaya, GJ – smw006
Characters: James Norrington, Davy Jones, Bootstrap, The Crew of The Flying Dutchman, and Tia Dalma.
Word Count: 595
Inspiration: Conan the Barbarian
Dedication: mrs_norrington, spamala97, and lastwordy_mcgee
Summary: James Norrington chooses not to die.
Notes: Part 3! I lied! This just took a turn for the depressing! Murtogg and Mullroy guest star in this chapter!
Betas: pearly_dreams and molassesturtle
The world was rendered in a blue-grey haze of sound and fury and though James Norrington still lived, bound to the mast at the very citadel of violence, the only thought that came to mind was that if this was indeed Hell, it was quite impressive though Dante had rendered it incorrectly. Fucking Italian.
The Admiral smiled, it was quite a blessing to be tied to the mast, else he would have been washed off the deck and swept into the gurgling, gaping maw of Hell. The gull seemed to be taking things rather calmly as it nestled into the crook of Norrington’s calf and thigh. James wondered if it would have flown away with the flock if he had not broken its wing…instead the bird serenely preened.
He found himself thoroughly amused by the antics of the crab; scuttling about the deck, snipping at the corpse of Mr. Mercer, annoying the gull from time to time. The little white crab now seemed to be dancing for him, its pinchers snipping wildly and its legs tapping against the deck. James found he was amused by everything, especially Jones’ earlier equivocations. That conversation might not have even been real, for Norrington knew there was fresh water and other victuals on the Dutchman.
Oh yes, James Norrington knew he was dying and he had never thought it would be such a pleasant and light-headed sensation. Naturally his increasing good humors had to be interrupted by two faces he had never thought to see again. The marines, Murtogg and Mullroy, in their ridiculous EITC uniforms were trying to loose him from the mast.
Mind the crab, if you please, Mr. Murtogg. It amuses me.
The marine could not hear him and because he could not see the crab Murtogg did not know that he had come within an inch of squishing it. Nor could Murtogg hear what his superior was saving, but he saw the swollen, chapped lips move. It was a shame, truly a shame, that Mullroy could not untie the ropes that kept Norrington tied to the mast. It was for the best; what would have been the point of carrying about James’ corpse?
The Admiral looked up at his faithful marines. There were tears streaming down Murtogg’s distorted face and behind him Mullroy was wearing a numb mask with wide, dry eyes. There were so many things he wanted to say to them and he could only hope that his dulling green eye conveyed his message:
You are good men and you have served me faithfully. I could not have received better men and there is naught else you can do to serve me. I am a dead man. You both still have a chance. Carpe diem, men. Now go. Go.
And James Norrington did mouth the word “go” to his marines and they understood. Mullroy helped his mate up and with a final salute Murtogg followed his fellow to safety. In any other situation, James would have felt such heartbreak at this moment, but now he felt only a deep sense of peace spread throughout him.
The white crab crawled up Norrington’s hands and began to work the loosened cords with its pincers. The gull, not wanting to be outdone, waddled behind James and pecked at the threading rope and intermittently hissed at the little crab. As the binds broke the gull buried its beak into remaining ties on the Admiral’s left hand while the crab clutched the cord coiled about his right hand. When James Norrington hit the water he was already dead.