#NorriHook

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@pyramultimuse from Killian 'Captain Hook': "This is a waste of everyone's time. I'm going to tell you the same thing I told the last people who tried to hang me: I can't die." He tried to explain as the noose was placed around his neck. "Are you really going to let me hang here for hours choking or can we work something out?"

Commodore Norrington stared at the notorious pirate, Captain Hook, as the noose was being placed around his neck. He couldn't help but feel skeptical of the man's claims that he couldn't die. Though he does grant a momentary reprieve from the executioner, holding up a hand.

"Can't die?" Norrington raised an eyebrow, "That's as likely as I being pirate." sarcasm thick. His men gave few snickers and good natured laugh at his ribbing of their captive.

" Tell me, why should I believe you, Pirate? Sounds rather farfetched to me. No man is immortal" @pyramultimuse

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Unlike the Commodore, Hook had seen the island before and been in this land for many a year - it was nothing new and therefore, he was not distracted.

He waited for his opening and when the Commodore was caught off balance, the Captain took his chance and lunged.

His blade expertly wafted through the air, making an audible whipping noise as it went forward, catching the man's hand to disarm him and as the blade fell, the pirate caught it with his foot and kicked it away, pointing his own sword at the Commodore throat, a victorious smile on his face.

"Now then," he breathed heavily, still riding the high from the battle. "Call off your men and perhaps we may sit down and speak like CIVILISED gentlemen?"

The air whistled as Hook’s blade cut through it, striking true. Norrington felt the searing pain before he saw the blood, his grip weakening as the pirate’s sword sliced across his wrist. His sword slipped from his grasp, clattering to the deck with a hollow ring. Norrington instinctively reached to stanch the flow of blood, but before he could react further, Hook’s boot caught the fallen blade and sent it skidding out of reach.

The Commodore staggered back, his breath catching as the cold steel of Hook’s sword pressed against his throat. He looked up into the pirate’s victorious grin, his mind racing even as the adrenaline surged through his veins. Despite the pain and the sting of defeat, there was a part of him—however small—that couldn’t help but admire the pirate’s skill.

The Commodore winced, his hand slick with blood as it stained the cuff of his once-pristine uniform. The fabric fluttered in the light breeze, the crimson staining the white. He was cornered, disarmed, and at the mercy of a man who clearly knew this strange land far better than he did.

Norrington’s eyes flicked to his men, still locked in a desperate struggle against Hook’s crew. They were fighting bravely, but the odds were against them. His pride screamed at him to resist, to fight until the end, but the rational part of him—the part that valued the lives of his men—knew that this battle was lost. Their lives meant more to him than his pride.

"s-Stand down!" Norrington called out, his voice slightly shaken, given the situation. "Lower your weapons!"

His men hesitated, clearly unwilling to surrender, but the sight of their Commodore at sword point, weaponless and wounded quelled their defiance. "Commodore!" One by one, they lowered their weapons, the sounds of battle dying down as the pirates closed in, collecting the surrendered arms.

"I…. will speak with you, Captain," The young Commodore utters, trying to keep his voice steady despite the pain and humiliation. " I only ask that you.. give my men quarter. "

Commodore Norrington's breath came in controlled bursts as he matched Captain Hook strike for strike. and despite the chaotic circumstances, he couldn't deny the thrill of the duel. Hook's footwork was nimble, his movements almost like a dance, and his blade was quick, yet Norrington kept pace, his own precision and discipline honed over years of service in His Majesty’s Navy.

But Hook’s words, spoken with that unnerving sing-song lilt, echoed in Norrington’s mind. “We shall see how you will be faring once you realize the proper of your situation!” The taunt grated on him, not for its content, but because, in the midst of this battle, Norrington began to wonder—what was their situation? "The.. devil are you talking about??"

His focus wavered for just a moment as Hook’s laughter filled the air. Around them, the storm that had initially brought them to this strange place was beginning to clear. The fog lifted, revealing an archipelago of islands surrounded by an endless, alien sea. The atmosphere felt different, charged with something unfamiliar—something magical.

One of Norrington’s men, still standing amidst the chaos, suddenly shouted over the noise of the battle. "Commodore! The land—it isn’t right, sir! We’re not where we’re supposed to be!"

Norrington’s eyes flicked to the sailor, his heart skipping a beat as the words sank in. His grip on his sword tightened, the realization dawning on him that they were not just lost at sea—they were somewhere entirely else.

The distraction was enough. In that split second, Hook’s sword came at him with renewed ferocity, the blade nearly striking true as Norrington barely managed to parry in time. The force of the blow sent a jolt through his arm, and for the first time, he felt truly off balance. Stumbling back with an "Ah!" Now was the pirate's chance.

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@sonofirishseas​ @firstlove-thesea​ @secondbcrnpiracy​

my esteemed rival,

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James listened to Killian's words, his expression growing solemn. The pirate's accusations struck a chord within him, reminding him of the complexities and compromises inherent in his role as a naval officer. While he believed in his duty to protect innocent lives, he couldn't deny the inherent flaws and injustices within the system he served.

"You're right," James admitted, his voice tinged with a mix of resignation and determination. "The path I've chosen may not always align with my ideals. But I strive to make a difference where I can, to uphold justice in a flawed world."

He sighed heavily, realizing that further conversation might not yield the results he desired. "I understand that you seek leverage and information in exchange. While I cannot promise immediate action, I will make inquiries and examine the naval ship logs as you suggest. If it can shed light on the truth and potentially help us find a resolution, I will pursue it."

He paused, looking at Killian intently. "We are both prisoners in our own ways, Hook. Perhaps there is a way for us to find common ground and work towards a mutual understanding. But that will require trust and a willingness to communicate. The choice is yours."

James turned to leave, . "Remember, though, that true power lies not in what you withhold, but in what you choose to share. We may yet find a way to resolve this situation without further bloodshed."

"You are not judge or jury, only executioner. Only thing you're achieving is hurting innocent lives, there are people who count on me. Who I protect. They will die thinking I abandoned them." The pirate said and pointed to James with his hook. "You don't care about innocent lives, you only care about about your king's people. Rulers are all the same, they convince you to serve them but once you are of no more use they toss you away. You're expendable, just like I was."

Killian went back to the far wall of his cell to sit back down on the floor. His demeanor reflected he wasn't interested in talking to James any more. "Just because you have morals doesn't mean those you tell will have the same." The pirate crossed his arms and stared over at his captor. "I'm not giving any more information for free. You want to know more you got to give something. Maybe go look at the naval ship logs of those I've 'attacked'? I've hardly sunk any so I'm sure they're somewhere. Might be surprised by what you read."

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The sound of his name cut through the haze of battle, piercing James’s focus. He looked up, startled, his mind reeling as he recognized the man standing before him.

“Killian?” he whispered, disbelief plain in his voice. The hardened yet handsome pirate, his gaze fierce and unyielding, was so far removed from the young man he’d once known, the man who had served alongside him, full of loyalty and spirit. How could it be?

In that moment of distraction, Killian took advantage, twisting his blade and ramming his shoulder into James’s chest. The force of the impact drove the air from James’s lungs, and before he could recover, Killian’s sword hilt cracked down hard on his wrist, the jolt of pain forcing him to release his own weapon. His sword clattered to the deck, and Killian shoved him back, sending him stumbling to the ground.

James’s vision spun as he fell, but the pain of his friend’s betrayal—of this twisted reunion—cut deeper than any wound. He stared up in shock, the realization settling coldly in his bones. This wasn’t a nightmare, nor some twisted jest; his former ally, the friend he had trusted, now stood before him as an enemy.

Change of plan: I want them alive, men! Killian barked to his crew, throwing him a bone. The pirates slowed, eyeing the remaining sailors as potential hostages, grins twisted with anticipation.

Struggling to his feet, James’s gaze shifted from Killian to his men. Bruised and bloodied, the remaining crew looked to him with a mixture of fear and hope, and he felt the weight of their lives settle on his shoulders.

With a resigned breath, he met Killian’s eyes, pushing down the bitterness in his chest. “Very well, Captain,” he said, voice low and steely. “If it will save my men, I’ll surrender. You’ve…won. Parley.. Men, drop your weapons. "

He dropped to one knee, hands raised in reluctant submission, his gaze locked on Killian’s as he awaited whatever terms the pirate captain would demand.

The crew of the Interceptor could scarcely believe what they were witnessing. Commodore James Norrington, the stalwart, fearless leader known for his unyielding loyalty to the Crown, and his principles, had surrendered. The men who had sailed with him through storm and strife, who had seen him face even the deadliest threats with a steady gaze and iron will, now looked on with expressions of shock and disbelief. Murmurs of confusion rippled through the ranks, some gripping their weapons tighter as if bracing for an order that never came. They had always known Norrington to be a man who would die before yielding to a pirate—yet here he knelt, hands raised in submission.

His hook blocked by another's blade he turned his attention to the Commodore. Blue eyes as deep of the sea widened in recognition of a man he once called his mentor, that had spoke favor his brother Liam to be promoted to lieutenant, a friend.

"James?" Killian asked in a softer tone in his bewilderment, but it only lasted a moment as he was reminded of the battle that raged on. With his hooked locked with the other's blade he twisted and shoved his shoulder into the man's chest then lifting his blade up to smack the hilt of his sword on James' wrist to attempt to force him to drop his weapon. Then shoving him again to try and knock him to the ground.

"Change of plan: I want them alive men! These sods will be valuable hostages!" Killian called out. A little late as nearly half have been slain or severely wounded already. He turned his attention back to James. "Do you want to parley or do you want to see the remainder of your crew die?" He asked in a firm tone but not as cruel as he had been moments ago. No longer as eager to kill with this new knowledge.

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The crew of the Jolly Roger were wise experienced sailors, they were aged salted men with experience to boot, just what one would expect when thinking of battle worn pirates as they jumped into the fight. What was unexpected was a young man no more than thirty leading these pirates. Just like in the times of old a good leader is the first into battle and the last to leave, as was what Killian did. Swinging over the railing he kicked a rifle out of one of the sailor's hands and as he dropped down stabbed him at the base of their neck with his hook and tore at the man.

"Lay down your weapons or I'll send you to meet your god!" The young pirate shouted out viciously but the crew of the Interceptor wouldn't surrender to a filthy pirate. "Then die by the blade of Captain Hook!" Killian drew his sword and commenced fighting as his men joined him on the ship.

The young captain fought mercilessly but with the skill of one that was professionally trained with a blade. He knew how these men fought because he was taught the very same when he was in the navy. This knowledge he used to his advantage to take fight multiple men at once with easy, fighting with both hook and sword in a dance of death. Perrying and slashing, using his hook to snag the handguard of one man and shifting the attack to make him impale another. Then with a quickness he ducked and grabbed another to yank him close and use as a shield to take the bullet of a rifle, then slitting his neck to make sure he was dead before shoving the sailor to the ground and continue the assault.

Commodore Norrington cut through the chaos, blade flashing as he felled one pirate after another with swift, practiced strikes. His gaze was fierce, his every move precise and deadly as he led his men, determined to defend his ship even in the face of the brutal assault. His officers fought valiantly beside him, and the Interceptor’s deck became a storm of blood and steel as pirates clashed with loyal sailors.

"Stand your ground!” Norrington commanded, rallying his men as they braced against the fierce pirate assault. He slashed through the arm of a pirate lunging toward him, barely pausing before dispatching another who tried to charge him from the side. But as he turned to protect one of his crew, he caught sight of the pirate captain himself—a young, dark-haired man, wild-eyed and merciless, cutting down his men with practiced ease.

So this was Captain Hook. The name, notorious even to Norrington, felt strangely hollow as he watched the captain move with a familiarity that unsettled him.

As one of his sailors stumbled back, scrambling to reload his rifle, Norrington saw Captain Hook close in with a deadly strike. Acting instinctively, he lunged forward, intercepting the blow with his own blade just as Hook’s hook swiped down. The clash of steel rang out as he caught the pirate's hook with his sword, locking the two in place.

“Not so fast, Captain,” Norrington growled, his voice cold and filled with unyielding fury.

The Jolly Roger was a beautiful ship, she could pass as a normal ship but was currently flying the skull and crossbones proudly. As if to draw attention purposefully. That was just the Captain's plans. Captain Hook, a pirate that has only been around for a few years, four or five at the most but had been a deadly foe. He has attacked dozens of british ships and killed even more men, even rumored to clear a fleet of five ships within the dead of night before they could even return fire.

"Cap'n! The Interceptor is pursuing us from the west!" The man in the crow's nest shouts down to alert the captain and crew.

Killian grins as he looks to the horizon to see the grand ship, a pirate hunter with speed unmatched. He would be praised by every pirate for sinking this one. "Ready the cannons! Prepare the mortar!" The young captain commanded as his crew followed orders. This 30-gun frigate had very special cannons, long range that was nearly double what most had. Jolly could devastate any ship before a single shot could reach her. That was what was about to happen.

These pirates would not run, the ship turned so the 16 port side long cannons could be aimed at the Interceptor. Killian stood by the helm to navigate the helmsman. "FIRE!" He bellowed to his crew and instantly the cannons blasted out, the balls whooshing through the air of the great distance. The ship would then steer forward and turn so the starport cannons could be aimed while the other side was being reloaded. "FIRE!" Killian called out again when they felt to be in the right position to hit the ship chasing them.

He would continue this strategy, sailing in a serpentine pattern while blasting away at the Interceptor. Causing major damage to the navy vessel as it tried to catch up with three more rounds of cannon fire. When the Interceptor did catch up that when the mortar was fired. A fiery blast shot up from the Jolly Roger going straight up into the air then lobing back down, crashing into the Interceptor's deck like a blazing meteor taking out the the main mast and setting a portion of the ship on fire.

"Look at them scramble, men! Like a bunch of rats when their nest gets destroyed. Lets go drown them like the vermin they are!" Killian shouted to his pirate crew who cheers as they sailed directly for the now incapacitated ship. Once alongside they threw over the grappling hooks to pull the ships together for boarding so the real fun could begin.

Commodore Norrington's eyes darkened as the first distant cannon blasts echoed across the waves. The Jolly Roger was firing before they had even closed the gap. His jaw clenched, recognizing the deadly precision of their opponent. Whoever commanded that ship knew exactly what they were doing—and was aiming to cripple the Interceptor before she could engage.

“Helmsman! Hard to port!” Norrington barked, gripping the railing as the ship veered sharply, narrowly avoiding the first volley. "We need to outmaneuver them, not play into their range!"

The crew scrambled, adjusting sails to make the ship lighter, swifter, and more agile, but another round of cannon fire roared toward them. Norrington braced himself as the cannonballs struck with brutal force, splintering part of the ship’s starboard side. He felt the shudder beneath his feet as the Interceptor took the hit, but she wasn’t down yet.

“Damage report!” he shouted as smoke filled the air, the acrid scent of burning wood mixing with the salty sea breeze.

“Starboard hull’s been hit, sir!” one of his officers shouted back. “But we’re still seaworthy.”

"Good." Norrington’s eyes never left the pirate ship. It was sleek, dangerous, and fast—a worthy adversary. "Ready the forward guns!" he ordered. "Let’s give them something to think about!"

The crew moved swiftly, loading the bow cannons as the Interceptor surged forward, angling for a clear shot. But the Jolly Roger was relentless, twisting in a serpentine pattern, blasting away with precise timing. Cannon fire roared again, smashing into the Interceptor's hull, sending debris flying as sailors rushed to patch the damage.

“Port guns ready, sir!” a crewman shouted.

“Return fire!” Norrington roared, and the Interceptor's cannons thundered in response. But as the smoke cleared, Norrington could see that their shots had missed. The Jolly Roger was just too fast.

Before he could issue another command, the sky above them lit up with a fiery blaze—a mortar, launched high into the air from the Jolly Roger, arcing toward the Interceptor like a falling star.

"Brace!" Norrington shouted, barely giving the crew time to take cover as the fiery blast crashed into the deck. The explosion rocked the ship, sending men tumbling across the burning timbers. The main mast splintered and fell with a deafening crack, flames licking at the wreckage.

Norrington's heart pounded as he surveyed the chaos. His ship, his crew—crippled in mere minutes. But there was no time to dwell. He could see the Jolly Roger closing in for the kill, its crew already preparing to board.

"Helmsman, keep us steady!" he commanded, rallying the sailors. "Boarding party! Swords and pistols at the ready!"

Norrington’s voice cut through the panic like a knife, reigniting the discipline of his men. They armed themselves, determined to defend their ship to the last.

As grappling hooks clanged against the rails and pirates began swinging aboard, Norrington drew his blade gleaming in the firelight. He steeled himself for the inevitable fight.

“Hold the line!” Norrington shouted, his eyes fixed on the chaos ahead as the pirates swarmed across the deck.

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The Jolly Roger was a beautiful ship, she could pass as a normal ship but was currently flying the skull and crossbones proudly. As if to draw attention purposefully. That was just the Captain's plans. Captain Hook, a pirate that has only been around for a few years, four or five at the most but had been a deadly foe. He has attacked dozens of british ships and killed even more men, even rumored to clear a fleet of five ships within the dead of night before they could even return fire.

"Cap'n! The Interceptor is pursuing us from the west!" The man in the crow's nest shouts down to alert the captain and crew.

Killian grins as he looks to the horizon to see the grand ship, a pirate hunter with speed unmatched. He would be praised by every pirate for sinking this one. "Ready the cannons! Prepare the mortar!" The young captain commanded as his crew followed orders. This 30-gun frigate had very special cannons, long range that was nearly double what most had. Jolly could devastate any ship before a single shot could reach her. That was what was about to happen.

These pirates would not run, the ship turned so the 16 port side long cannons could be aimed at the Interceptor. Killian stood by the helm to navigate the helmsman. "FIRE!" He bellowed to his crew and instantly the cannons blasted out, the balls whooshing through the air of the great distance. The ship would then steer forward and turn so the starport cannons could be aimed while the other side was being reloaded. "FIRE!" Killian called out again when they felt to be in the right position to hit the ship chasing them.

He would continue this strategy, sailing in a serpentine pattern while blasting away at the Interceptor. Causing major damage to the navy vessel as it tried to catch up with three more rounds of cannon fire. When the Interceptor did catch up that when the mortar was fired. A fiery blast shot up from the Jolly Roger going straight up into the air then lobing back down, crashing into the Interceptor's deck like a blazing meteor taking out the the main mast and setting a portion of the ship on fire.

"Look at them scramble, men! Like a bunch of rats when their nest gets destroyed. Lets go drown them like the vermin they are!" Killian shouted to his pirate crew who cheers as they sailed directly for the now incapacitated ship. Once alongside they threw over the grappling hooks to pull the ships together for boarding so the real fun could begin.

Commodore Norrington's eyes darkened as the first distant cannon blasts echoed across the waves. The Jolly Roger was firing before they had even closed the gap. His jaw clenched, recognizing the deadly precision of their opponent. Whoever commanded that ship knew exactly what they were doing—and was aiming to cripple the Interceptor before she could engage.

“Helmsman! Hard to port!” Norrington barked, gripping the railing as the ship veered sharply, narrowly avoiding the first volley. "We need to outmaneuver them, not play into their range!"

The crew scrambled, adjusting sails to make the ship lighter, swifter, and more agile, but another round of cannon fire roared toward them. Norrington braced himself as the cannonballs struck with brutal force, splintering part of the ship’s starboard side. He felt the shudder beneath his feet as the Interceptor took the hit, but she wasn’t down yet.

“Damage report!” he shouted as smoke filled the air, the acrid scent of burning wood mixing with the salty sea breeze.

“Starboard hull’s been hit, sir!” one of his officers shouted back. “But we’re still seaworthy.”

"Good." Norrington’s eyes never left the pirate ship. It was sleek, dangerous, and fast—a worthy adversary. "Ready the forward guns!" he ordered. "Let’s give them something to think about!"

The crew moved swiftly, loading the bow cannons as the Interceptor surged forward, angling for a clear shot. But the Jolly Roger was relentless, twisting in a serpentine pattern, blasting away with precise timing. Cannon fire roared again, smashing into the Interceptor's hull, sending debris flying as sailors rushed to patch the damage.

“Port guns ready, sir!” a crewman shouted.

“Return fire!” Norrington roared, and the Interceptor's cannons thundered in response. But as the smoke cleared, Norrington could see that their shots had missed. The Jolly Roger was just too fast.

Before he could issue another command, the sky above them lit up with a fiery blaze—a mortar, launched high into the air from the Jolly Roger, arcing toward the Interceptor like a falling star.

"Brace!" Norrington shouted, barely giving the crew time to take cover as the fiery blast crashed into the deck. The explosion rocked the ship, sending men tumbling across the burning timbers. The main mast splintered and fell with a deafening crack, flames licking at the wreckage.

Norrington's heart pounded as he surveyed the chaos. His ship, his crew—crippled in mere minutes. But there was no time to dwell. He could see the Jolly Roger closing in for the kill, its crew already preparing to board.

"Helmsman, keep us steady!" he commanded, rallying the sailors. "Boarding party! Swords and pistols at the ready!"

Norrington’s voice cut through the panic like a knife, reigniting the discipline of his men. They armed themselves, determined to defend their ship to the last.

As grappling hooks clanged against the rails and pirates began swinging aboard, Norrington drew his blade gleaming in the firelight. He steeled himself for the inevitable fight.

“Hold the line!” Norrington shouted, his eyes fixed on the chaos ahead as the pirates swarmed across the deck.

The wind tugged at Commodore James Norrington’s coat as he stood at the helm of his ship, eyes narrowing against the sun's glare on the horizon. He had spotted the unmistakable silhouette of a ship—a pirate ship. The sails fluttered ominously in the breeze, sending a jolt of anticipation through him.

"That ship…" he muttered, something odd prickling at the back of his mind, though he pushed it aside. There was no time to dwell on it, it was clearly a pirate vessel. "Raise the colors and make ready to pursue!"

His voice cut through the sea air, clear and commanding. His crew sprang into action, following orders without hesitation. Norrington’s gaze remained fixed on the pirate vessel ahead, not yet realizing the man steering it was once his ally.

"Prepare the cannons!" he barked. The Jolly Roger was fast, but not fast enough to outrun the Interceptor. No ship could match her speed

As his ship surged forward, closing the distance, he allowed a rare moment of personal satisfaction. Pirates were his sworn enemies, after all.

Unaware the very man he once called a comrade, back when they were both wide-eyed young men, learning the ropes of the sea together was at the helm.

@heartthrobhook

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Killian waited to hear the other's plan for him, but what came had his heart sink. He wanted to be freed, but not like this. "You do realize if I run, it'll just cement me as a pirate. You really think there is no way of clearing my name?" He asked as he searched the commadore's expression for something.

He didn't want his freedom if it meant someone lost their life, especially not the life of the man that was helping him. James believed the good in him. There had to be a way he could leave without putting this man at risk.

Then an idea came to mind and he reached out his flesh hand through the bars to place over James' that held the key to unlock his cell. "Sign me as a privateer! You have the authority to do that, can't you? I can earn a pardon under the crown and you wont be hung for treason." Killian said in an excited yet hushed voice.

James stared at Killian, his initial plan crumbling in the face of the pirate's heartfelt plea. The notion of signing him as a privateer had not occurred to him, and he couldn't deny the brilliance of the idea. A privateer, a sanctioned pirate under the crown's command, would allow Killian the opportunity to clear his name while serving a greater purpose. It was a compromise that held promise.

A smile tugged at the corners of James' lips, his surprise giving way to a newfound respect for Killian's resourcefulness. "You continue to surprise me, Hook," he admitted, his voice laced with amusement. "I suppose I underestimated your ability to find a middle ground. A privateer it is then, and I shall vouch for your services to the crown."

With a firm nod, the cell door swung open, extending a hand toward Killian. A genuine smile graced his face, a rare sight for the typically stern and stoic commadore. "Consider this the beginning of a new chapter, Captain Hook. "Welcome aboard. "

James stared at Killian through the bars, his exhaustion giving way to a pensive silence. He weighed the consequences of his actions, contemplating the risks involved in defying the orders of his superiors. The weight of the pirate's imprisonment and the injustice it represented pressed heavily upon his conscience.

Finally, he spoke, his voice hushed and filled with a mixture of determination and apprehension. "Tonight, when we reach port…" James paused, his gaze locked with Killian's. "You'll make your… miraculous escape."

He reached into his pocket, fingers fumbling with a small key. With a trembling hand, he unlocked the door to the cell but left it shut, preventing any outward signs of Killian's imminent liberation. James leaned closer to the bars, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You do realize, Hook, if anyone was to find out about this, it will be my head in the noose," he warned, his tone a mixture of caution and resignation. "But I can't ignore the truth any longer. I won't stand by and let an innocent man suffer unjustly."

A conflicted expression flickered across James' face as he struggled with the weight of his decision. He knew the consequences could be dire, but his conscience refused to be silenced.

" I expect your cooperation in any future endeavors that may benefit the crown. And mark my words, I'll be watching your every move."

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James stared at Killian through the bars, his exhaustion giving way to a pensive silence. He weighed the consequences of his actions, contemplating the risks involved in defying the orders of his superiors. The weight of the pirate's imprisonment and the injustice it represented pressed heavily upon his conscience.

Finally, he spoke, his voice hushed and filled with a mixture of determination and apprehension. "Tonight, when we reach port…" James paused, his gaze locked with Killian's. "You'll make your… miraculous escape."

He reached into his pocket, fingers fumbling with a small key. With a trembling hand, he unlocked the door to the cell but left it shut, preventing any outward signs of Killian's imminent liberation. James leaned closer to the bars, his voice barely above a whisper.

"You do realize, Hook, if anyone was to find out about this, it will be my head in the noose," he warned, his tone a mixture of caution and resignation. "But I can't ignore the truth any longer. I won't stand by and let an innocent man suffer unjustly."

A conflicted expression flickered across James' face as he struggled with the weight of his decision. He knew the consequences could be dire, but his conscience refused to be silenced.

" I expect your cooperation in any future endeavors that may benefit the crown. And mark my words, I'll be watching your every move."

While left in his cell Killian endured some threats and insults by the guardsmen. He was the only prisoner they had at the moment and after the incident at the gallows there was quite a bit of talk about this immortal pirate. It consisted of more creative ways of killing him, still being thought of some sort of devil and that they needed to get the church involved. But hood stayed silent through it all, they were baiting him into getting a rise out of him and he wouldn't give it to them.

Thankfully they stopped and left him be after some hours. That was only because they heard their commanding officer coming. He looked up to see the commadore step up to his cell. The man looked exhausted, dark circles were starting to form after reading late into the evening. An apology came that the pirate was not expecting. Hook stood and came over to the bars to lean against.

"That's all fine and dandy that you believe me and I accept your apology. But what about this whole under arrest and imprisonment situation?" He asked curiously since that was the most important thing to him. "Is what you found enough to get me out of here?"

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"Show that it's worth sharing what I know with you and I'll do so." The pirate said with a nod in agreement. If James really wanted to see justice through hopefully they could come to more equal grounds. But how long this would take worried Hook. His crew was still out there sailing, without their captain they were laying low so they wouldn't get captured as well. There were sea farers that Killian escorted, fishermen and small merchant ships he would protect in dangerous areas from both man and monster.

In the logs of british ships that had encountered the Jolly Roger and it's pirate crew, the captains would initiate offensive action against the pirate ship. The pirates would return fire and circle around their attacker's to the stern where they would proceed to board. The fighting was brutal but Killian and his crew didn't seek to kill and deaths only occurred when someone wouldn't yield. The pirates would come out victorious they would proceed to dismantle the canons to make them in operatable, stealing gunpowder, some wealth and food rations but leaving enough for the ship to make it back to the closest port. They were not ruthless in the slightest, the physician even tending to some of the british sailors wounds before leaving them. No recent records indicated Hook committing acts of piracy.

James found himself growing increasingly frustrated with Killian's evasive tactics and demands. The pirate's flirtatious nature and reluctance to provide information tested his patience. As he walked away from the cell, he couldn't help but mutter under his breath, "Stubborn pirate…"

Hours passed, and the weight of his conscience settled upon James. He couldn't shake off the feeling that there might be more to Killian Hook than met the eye. Unable to find respite, he decided to delve into the naval ship logs, hoping to find the truth buried within the records.

As James delved into the naval ship logs, even MORE frustration began to creep in. The accounts painted a different picture from the notorious reputation that surrounded Captain Hook. The encounters described the pirate crew's tactical maneuvers, their avoidance of unnecessary bloodshed, and even instances of aid provided to injured sailors. It was in stark contrast to the ruthless pirate he had envisioned.

"Blast it all," James muttered to himself, realizing that he had underestimated the complexities of the situation. He couldn't help but feel a growing irritation towards the pirate for forcing him to question his preconceived notions.

A persistent unease gnawed at James. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had judged Hook too harshly. It was a nagging conscience that pushed him to revisit the cell where the pirate was held.

Approaching the cell, James found Killian still seated in the corner, his eyes fixed on the entrance. The commadore hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

He paused, his gaze steady as he met Killian's eyes through the bars. " It would seem I- I owe you an apology. My initial judgments were clouded, influenced by assumptions and preconceived notions. I was wrong, and I'm sorry." his voice carrying a rare hint of humility. "The logs tell a different story than the one I've been led to believe. Your actions, while not entirely innocent, reflect a level of mercy and restraint that is seldom associated with piracy." The weight of his words hung in the air, and James waited for Killian's response.

"You are not judge or jury, only executioner. Only thing you're achieving is hurting innocent lives, there are people who count on me. Who I protect. They will die thinking I abandoned them." The pirate said and pointed to James with his hook. "You don't care about innocent lives, you only care about about your king's people. Rulers are all the same, they convince you to serve them but once you are of no more use they toss you away. You're expendable, just like I was."

Killian went back to the far wall of his cell to sit back down on the floor. His demeanor reflected he wasn't interested in talking to James any more. "Just because you have morals doesn't mean those you tell will have the same." The pirate crossed his arms and stared over at his captor. "I'm not giving any more information for free. You want to know more you got to give something. Maybe go look at the naval ship logs of those I've 'attacked'? I've hardly sunk any so I'm sure they're somewhere. Might be surprised by what you read."

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

Commodore Norrington's breath came in controlled bursts as he matched Captain Hook strike for strike. and despite the chaotic circumstances, he couldn't deny the thrill of the duel. Hook's footwork was nimble, his movements almost like a dance, and his blade was quick, yet Norrington kept pace, his own precision and discipline honed over years of service in His Majesty’s Navy.

But Hook’s words, spoken with that unnerving sing-song lilt, echoed in Norrington’s mind. “We shall see how you will be faring once you realize the proper of your situation!” The taunt grated on him, not for its content, but because, in the midst of this battle, Norrington began to wonder—what was their situation? "The.. devil are you talking about??"

His focus wavered for just a moment as Hook’s laughter filled the air. Around them, the storm that had initially brought them to this strange place was beginning to clear. The fog lifted, revealing an archipelago of islands surrounded by an endless, alien sea. The atmosphere felt different, charged with something unfamiliar—something magical.

One of Norrington’s men, still standing amidst the chaos, suddenly shouted over the noise of the battle. "Commodore! The land—it isn’t right, sir! We’re not where we’re supposed to be!"

Norrington’s eyes flicked to the sailor, his heart skipping a beat as the words sank in. His grip on his sword tightened, the realization dawning on him that they were not just lost at sea—they were somewhere entirely else.

The distraction was enough. In that split second, Hook’s sword came at him with renewed ferocity, the blade nearly striking true as Norrington barely managed to parry in time. The force of the blow sent a jolt through his arm, and for the first time, he felt truly off balance. Stumbling back with an "Ah!" Now was the pirate's chance.

Norrington gritted his teeth as Captain Hook’s laughter rang out, echoing over the chaos of the battle. The force of Hook’s strike vibrated up Norrington’s arm, but he didn’t falter.

" Only one way to see if those are empty words or not, Captain." Norrington shot back, his voice low and controlled, every syllable laced with determination.

The two combatants circled one another, their blades moving in a deadly dance. Even if Hook’s movements were swift and graceful, Norrington was a seasoned swordsman, his training and experience guided his every move. He parried Hook’s strikes with precision, each counter leaving no opening for the pirate to exploit.

As Hook pressed their blades together, leaning in with a taunting remark, Norrington met his gaze without flinching. The pirate’s breath was hot on his face, but Norrington’s gaze only hardened, despite the flush of exhilaration on his cheeks.

"The seas may be foreign, but the honor is not," Norrington replied, his voice steady as he pushed back against Hook’s blade. The proximity of their locked swords was intense, but Norrington held his ground, matching the pirate’s strength with his own. Staring into the other man's eyes in challenge.

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

Norrington gritted his teeth as Captain Hook’s laughter rang out, echoing over the chaos of the battle. The force of Hook’s strike vibrated up Norrington’s arm, but he didn’t falter.

" Only one way to see if those are empty words or not, Captain." Norrington shot back, his voice low and controlled, every syllable laced with determination.

The two combatants circled one another, their blades moving in a deadly dance. Even if Hook’s movements were swift and graceful, Norrington was a seasoned swordsman, his training and experience guided his every move. He parried Hook’s strikes with precision, each counter leaving no opening for the pirate to exploit.

As Hook pressed their blades together, leaning in with a taunting remark, Norrington met his gaze without flinching. The pirate’s breath was hot on his face, but Norrington’s gaze only hardened, despite the flush of exhilaration on his cheeks.

"The seas may be foreign, but the honor is not," Norrington replied, his voice steady as he pushed back against Hook’s blade. The proximity of their locked swords was intense, but Norrington held his ground, matching the pirate’s strength with his own. Staring into the other man's eyes in challenge.

Hook’s words cut through the chaos and Norrington’s gaze hardened. Even if they were alone out here, they would not back down to PIRATES!

The Jolly Roger erupted with gunfire, and the air was filled with the deafening roar of bullets and the clash of steel. Norrington’s men, though highly trained and disciplined, were still reeling from the strange and disorienting journey that had brought them to this uncharted realm. They fought valiantly, their swords flashing and muskets firing, but there was a confusion in their movements—a hesitation that wasn’t usually there.

As the pirates' bullets flew, some found their marks, yet Norrington’s men fired back with precision, steel clashing against steel as the pirates swung down from the rigging above.

Norrington himself felt a moment of disorientation, the world around him seeming both familiar and alien. The very air felt different here, heavy with an unnatural energy. But when he saw Hook raise his sword and taunt him with that devilish grin, something ancient and fierce stirred within the Commodore.

"To arms, men! Show these rogues the might of His Majesty's Navy!" Norrington commanded, his voice cutting through the din of battle. His sword flashed in the light as he expertly parried and countered the strikes of Hook's crew, cutting down those who dared stand in his way.

Though disoriented, Norrington still moved with the grace and precision of a seasoned swordsman. As he finally faced Hook, cutting through the last of the pirates blocking his path, blood staining his blade, Norrington raised his sword in a formal salute.

"Dark and sinister man, have at thee!" he declared, The words that came to him as if they belonged to another, as if -- they came to him out of the blue. Without hesitation, Norrington lunged at Hook, his blade aiming true. Catching the shine of light once more.

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

After digging out the bullet from his side from earlier, something that had been on easy task with only one hand, Killian sat in the back corner of his cell. His eyes closed and he appeared to be napping. The pirate was resting but was fully alert. So when the commadore came to him he looked up when he heard the man's voice. Questioning in desperation to find out his secret.

"Why? So you can find a way to make sure I stay dead?" He asked back and shook his head. Predictable. This wasn't the first time he'd been captured and wouldn't be the last. "I told you, going to Neverland made me immortal... It's an island that only appears at night when the stars align in just right way with the moon, like it's from another plain of existence. When you arrive there, there is no such thing as time and you're cursed to stay exactly how you are."

The pirate got to his feet and came over to the bars of his cell. He leaned an arm against the bars and got close to the other male. "If I knew what could kill me, I'd happily tell you. Immortality is miserable. Getting killed over and over but being denied the mercy to actually die is pain beyond your comprehension." He explained in a soft tone just above a whisper like he was telling a secret. The pirate sighed and rested his head against his arm. "You're not going to kill me, all you're going to do is end up torturing me and I don't think you're that kind of man commadore. What was going through your mind when I dropped and did not get that swift death? Did it pain you to see me suffer on the edge of death?"

"Indeed" he glowers back just as short and snippy with the pirate. However, Norrington's expression darkened at the accusation.

"I may be a naval officer, but I am not a monster. I did not relish in your suffering, Hook." He straightened up and clasped his hands behind his back, trying to regain some sense of authority. "I halted the execution because I realized there is much we do not know about your situation. My duty is to bring justice, not to inflict needless pain. But I must also consider the safety of others, and I cannot have an immortal pirate running loose."

He paused for a moment, contemplating. "If what you say is true, and Neverland does indeed exist, and if it can make a man immortal, then who knows what other horrors it can unleash upon the world.."

He leaned against the bars, his gaze locked onto Hook's. The pair were intimately close with just the bars between them. Green staring into blue. "I may not believe in fairy tales, but I do believe in the power of knowledge. And right now, you're the only one who has it. Starting with the Coordinates of where it appears at night."

After digging out the bullet from his side from earlier, something that had been on easy task with only one hand, Killian sat in the back corner of his cell. His eyes closed and he appeared to be napping. The pirate was resting but was fully alert. So when the commadore came to him he looked up when he heard the man's voice. Questioning in desperation to find out his secret.

"Why? So you can find a way to make sure I stay dead?" He asked back and shook his head. Predictable. This wasn't the first time he'd been captured and wouldn't be the last. "I told you, going to Neverland made me immortal... It's an island that only appears at night when the stars align in just right way with the moon, like it's from another plain of existence. When you arrive there, there is no such thing as time and you're cursed to stay exactly how you are."

The pirate got to his feet and came over to the bars of his cell. He leaned an arm against the bars and got close to the other male. "If I knew what could kill me, I'd happily tell you. Immortality is miserable. Getting killed over and over but being denied the mercy to actually die is pain beyond your comprehension." He explained in a soft tone just above a whisper like he was telling a secret. The pirate sighed and rested his head against his arm. "You're not going to kill me, all you're going to do is end up torturing me and I don't think you're that kind of man commadore. What was going through your mind when I dropped and did not get that swift death? Did it pain you to see me suffer on the edge of death?"

[ashortdropandasuddenstop]

Hook’s words cut through the chaos and Norrington’s gaze hardened. Even if they were alone out here, they would not back down to PIRATES!

The Jolly Roger erupted with gunfire, and the air was filled with the deafening roar of bullets and the clash of steel. Norrington’s men, though highly trained and disciplined, were still reeling from the strange and disorienting journey that had brought them to this uncharted realm. They fought valiantly, their swords flashing and muskets firing, but there was a confusion in their movements—a hesitation that wasn’t usually there.

As the pirates' bullets flew, some found their marks, yet Norrington’s men fired back with precision, steel clashing against steel as the pirates swung down from the rigging above.

Norrington himself felt a moment of disorientation, the world around him seeming both familiar and alien. The very air felt different here, heavy with an unnatural energy. But when he saw Hook raise his sword and taunt him with that devilish grin, something ancient and fierce stirred within the Commodore.

"To arms, men! Show these rogues the might of His Majesty's Navy!" Norrington commanded, his voice cutting through the din of battle. His sword flashed in the light as he expertly parried and countered the strikes of Hook's crew, cutting down those who dared stand in his way.

Though disoriented, Norrington still moved with the grace and precision of a seasoned swordsman. As he finally faced Hook, cutting through the last of the pirates blocking his path, blood staining his blade, Norrington raised his sword in a formal salute.

"Dark and sinister man, have at thee!" he declared, The words that came to him as if they belonged to another, as if -- they came to him out of the blue. Without hesitation, Norrington lunged at Hook, his blade aiming true. Catching the shine of light once more.

Commodore Norrington dared stepped board the deck of the Jolly Roger, his boots firmly planted on the weathered wood as his men secured their foothold. The hurricane that had battered the Dauntless only hours before had left them in uncharted waters, and now, without warning, they had come upon this strange and unfamiliar ship.

His brow furrowed as he took in the scene—this was no ordinary pirate vessel. Yet, there was no time to ponder their whereabouts. The mission was clear: secure the ship and subdue its crew.

When Norrington’s gaze met Captain Hook’s, while not yet aware of his identity, he at least recognized the cunning and danger in the man’s eyes. This was no common pirate but who it was just yet eluded him.

"Stand down, sir!" Norrington commanded, his voice cutting through the chaos. "You are hereby ordered to surrender this vessel to the authority of His Majesty's Navy. " False bravado, considering they;d just been disoriented and just through a hurricane.

He drew his sword with a swift, practiced motion, the blade gleaming in the dim light. Norrington’s men, already armed and prepared, stood ready behind him, their muskets and cutlasses at the ready.

The Commodore stepped forward, his expression one of cold determination. "You may fancy yourself a pirate sir, but you will find his Majesty's Navy is not so easily bested. Yield now, or face the consequences."

His men moved into position around him, their weapons aimed and fingers on triggers, awaiting their Commodore's next command. The air was thick with tension as both sides prepare for the inevitable clash.