*stands and firmly plants "Norrington Defense League" flag in the ground*

As the foremost--and only--member of this noble organization, I have made it my duty to counter the flood of "in the absence of any blatant villain, and because I'm not creative enough to make up my own, I'm going make Norrington a cruel, demented, vicious badguy" fics with my own fics portraying the honorable commodore more the way he was portrayed in the movie, as a slightly stuffy, straightlaced (though by no means straight...) kind of guy who likes to follow rules, but will bend them if given a really good reason to. He reminds me just a tad of Percy Weasley, except that Norrington isn't quite as ambitious and rule-obsessed. Kind of puts it in perspective, just a bit.

I find the commodore's character very interesting, and I think he should really be given some more depth in fanfiction. I think all he needs is someone to love him. He's the kind of guy who really needs a hug. However, I staunchly refuse to write het, just as some authors blatantly refuse to write slash. I would rather see Norrington at the bottom of an ocean of badly-written Mary Sue fics than write him straight.

Just one more note: I read something on IMDB.com about how promoting him to the rank of commodore in the movie was a mistake. Apparently, "commodore" is only a temporary title, granted to captains in times of need when they might have to command more than one ship, and revoked when the danger is past. Norrington should actually have been made an admiral, not a commodore. However, and I suppose this was Disney's reasoning behind it, I think "commodore" just sounds better. So I'll keep the title, and call him Commodore Norrington, but he'll be referred to as an admiral.

Standard disclaimers apply. I've done enough talking as it is.


When the crowd had dispersed, Commodore Norrington returned to the wall to watch the black-sailed ship depart. "Good riddance," he murmured, not meaning a word of it. If he had his way, Captain Jack Sparrow would have more than a day's head start. It had hurt somewhere inside him to have to turn Jack over to the authorities...his conscience, he supposed, was what pained him. The law and his conscience did not always agree, which distressed him...surely he should think the law always right and just in its treatment of pirates. It was all they deserved, really, for all the carnage they wrought, all the raping, looting, murdering...death was too good for them.

Somehow, he found it difficult to picture the swishy, limp-wristed pirate who radiated charm and cheer murdering or raping anyone. Looting, yes. Jack Sparrow was far too well-dressed to have gotten his finery by any honest means. But nothing mortally dreadful, no crimes worthy of death in and of themselves. He had listened, with almost bated breath, to the list of Jack's crimes as the executioner read them off. Theft, arson, impersonation of an officer, impersonation of a clergyman. No rape, no murder. The man was comparatively innocent as pirates went. It was just that the list was so bloody *long*...

And Jack was up there rolling his eyes skyward, superbly unconcerned. Norrington believed he might have whistled, had he not been to bizarrely polite to interrupt the executioner as he read off the list. When Turner had made his daring rescue attempt, Norrington had clenched his teeth to keep from cheering him on. He had done his duty as if in a trance, giving the orders the law expected him to give, and somewhere, deep down, contradicting each one and hoping the pirate would escape safely.

The ripples from the splash Jack had made as he fell had long since died away. Norrington remained on the wall, staring morosely down at the spot where they had been for a long time after.


Short, yes, but I only had 15 minutes. When Jack shows up, the chapters will become much longer, I promise. And the slash will grow much more blatant.

Ave atque vale,

--Jehan's Muse