There are so many fics out there about Jim and Silver meeting again, so I thought that I would add my own. Read and review?
Jim backed against the barrel of purps he had hidden in after chasing Morph, shaking in terror. A large, hulking form loomed over him, red eye glowing malevolently in the darkness.
"Aye, Jimbo, it's true. I never cared a lick about ya. It was just ta keep you off our trail." The voice was low and soft, echoing from every corner of the shadowed room.
"Yer an annoying little whelp, pickin' fights with me crew, causin' trouble where ever ya go…" the words cut Jim like a knife and he wanted to run, but he couldn't move. A large hand with claw-tipped fingers grabbed his shirt and hoisted him into the air. He rose higher and higher, through the galley's roof and up into space, and the figure holding him rose too. The face before him was unrecognizably twisted with hatred, and growing larger every second. The robotic eye swiveled uncontrollably, flower-like steel petals opening and snapping shut over and over.
"Aye lad," the voice hissed, still echoing. The figure's mouth didn't move with the words, it just stayed fixed in a horrible grimace. "I wish Scroop had thrown ya overboard instead of Mr. Arrow, at least HE was a mite useful." The robotic eye turned into a metal shark protruding from the eye socket, still snapping. "I shoulda dropped ya when I had th' chance, and taken th' treasure for me own!" the voice whispered venomously as the shark stretched, a comical but terrible imitation of Billy Bones' neck. The metal mouth snapped closer and closer…
Jim woke with a muffled cry, bolting up in his bed. He dashed the tears from his eyes, growling angrily. He was too old to be crying like a baby over a silly nightmare. Morph bubbled anxiously, circling around his head.
"It's okay Morph; it was just a bad dream." Morph nuzzled against his cheek, still worried, then turned into a small mirror and dropped into his lap. Jim picked the little object up and looked at himself. He looked exhausted, with purple bags under his eyes. Smiling slightly, he tickled the mirror until it turned into a giggling Morph.
"C'mon Morph, let's go for a surf." He got out of bed, Morph still circling excitedly, and started to get dressed. Pulling on a loose shirt and pants, he glanced out the window and saw that the sun had risen halfway above the horizon. "If we hurry we can get out before- Agh!" Morph had turned into a puffer fish and blown water into his ear. Jim cursed, pulled on his other boot, grabbed his belt and raced after Morph.
He stopped outside the Inn, panting and laughing, and ran his hands over his hair, wishing, not for the first time, that he still had a braid to tug on.
"Squit, squit, squit!" Morph chanted, bubbling and chuckling.
"Yes you are," Jim grinned, swatting gently at the pink blob who chittered and turned into a tiny solar surfer.
"Hm…" Jim walked to the small shed at the back of the inn and grabbed his most recent solar surfer. He lovingly rubbed a streak of oil off its shiny metal, and grinned at his distorted reflection. He had built the craft a few months ago, and had just recently finished working out its kinks and issues. Picking it up and slinging it under his arm, he whistled to Morph, who appeared a moment later, burbling like the sink.
"Want to try something new?" he asked the blob.
"New, new!" Was its response. Jim pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it, showing the picture to Morph.
"They're called goggles," he said softly as the creature cooed with interest. "I think they're supposed to be like an old fashioned version of those shields that people use to cover their eyes. Wanna try?" he grinned at Morph. The pink blob chortled and turned into a pair of old-looking goggles. Jim slipped them over his eyes and blinked as the lenses cleared. He felt them constrict slightly, and Morph giggled in his ear.
"Alright, little buddy, hold on." Jim laughed. He ran to the end of the dock and set the board gently on the ground. Then he stepped on, and stamped onto the starting pedal. Instantly, the board whirred to life and the sail slid out. Jim grabbed the holding bar and kicked off the ground. The board shot forward and Jim whooped. Morph babbled in his ear with excitement.
He was free. The last term of his fifth year at the Interstellar Academy had ended two weeks ago, and he still had another three months until the next term started. The wind whipped his face, but Morph kept the wind from his eyes, leaving his vision clear. The air was warm, the currents were smooth, and the sun was almost completely above the horizon.
Jim dove, reveling in the rush of falling. Pulling out of the dive, he rose again, looking for a challenge. He saw one in the form of many rocky spires sprouting from the ground in a canyon below him, and he dove again, weaving in and out and around the spires, laughing and shouting wildly. A few daring birds flew with him, bright flashes of color in the edges of Jim's vision. Eventually he reached a point where the canyon split into two, and slowing down, he landed on the point. He stomped on the pedal again, and the board shut off. Morph slid off his head and onto his shoulder, giggling and panting.
"Whew." Jim sighed, sitting on the edge of the cliff. Morph mimicked him, then giggled and flew off to inspect the area. Jim reached into his pocket and felt an object there that he had forgotten about. He pulled it out and ran his fingers along its curves, smiling and sadly wiping away a single large, smudged fingerprint.
"Boyo, I want ya ta have somethin'." Silver smiled tearily and pulled a pouch out of his pocket. He handed the pouch to Jim, who opened it.
"Your pipe?" Jim asked, confused. Silver nodded, wiping his normal eye as the other shone a soft, warm gold.
"I can always get me a new un. And I wanted ya ta have somethin' to remind ya of me." Then he shook his finger at Jim, trying and failing to look stern. "But don't ya go smokin' it before yer old enough." He smiled, teary again and opened his arms for a hug. Jim ran forward and hugged him with all his strength, digging his fingers into the slightly smoke-scented jacket.
"I'll miss you…" Jim whispered. Silver gave a watery chuckle. "I'll miss ya too, lad. I'll miss ya too."
Jim smiled again, drawn out of his thoughts by Morph licking his face.
"I was just thinking, Morph." Morph twined through his fingers, purring, and settled on top of Jim's head for a moment before flying off again. Jim drew out a small pouch from his pocket, pouring some of the mixture inside into the pipe, making a mental note to go to town and ask an herb seller to help him identify the mix and get some more. He tamped it down and drew a match from the pouch. Flicking it across a rough patch on the side of his solar surfer, he lit the pipe and lifted it to his lips. He inhaled and sighed as the smell of the unique mixture filtered through his senses. Closing his eyes, he remembered sitting in the shrouds of the R.L.S. Legacy, sunk deep into guilt. Silver had leaned on the ship's railing, smoking the same pipe Jim now held.
Morph took this moment to reappear, covered in dust. He shook himself and flew through the smoke in the air. He landed on Jim's knee turning into a replica of the pipe in Jim's hands, then into a miniature Silver.
"Jimbo!" he chuckled, then turned back into a pink blob. Jim patted Morph's head absently, still blowing smoke into the air. He sighed once more, then stood. The sun had risen fully into the sky, and Jim was hungry.
"Food, then town." He told Morph, who turned into a flamboyant hat. Jim laughed and put the hat on his head, tickling the brim. It squeaked and shifted into the goggles. Jim kicked his board into gear and shot off the cliff, headed back to the Benbow Inn.
"Jim, where have you been?!" Sarah called when Jim entered the Inn.
"I was out for a surf." Jim grinned as he grabbed a plate of food and started to shovel it down. Morph circled Jim's head once and flew off to the kitchens. Sarah breezed past him, but backtracked to sniff his hair.
"James Hawkins, have you been smoking again?" she put her hands on her hips, looking reproachful. Jim looked at her, mouth full of food.
"I'm old enough!" he exclaimed through the mouthful.
"Oh, Jim." She sighed mournfully, returning to her bustling. "You know it's bad for you."
"I know!" Jim grumbled, still chewing.
"Well, I suppose I can't stop you…" she said, looking irritable. "But if I catch you doing it in this building…" she muttered under her breath. Jim finished his food, jumped to his feet and planted a kiss on her cheek.
"Stop worrying, mom! I'm not that dumb." He grinned again, and dropped his plate off in the kitchen. Whistling to Morph, he grabbed his coin pouch and left the Inn, humming cheerfully. As he walked, the blob flitted around his head, chirping like a bird. A ways down the road he hopped onto the back of a covered carriage going towards the town.
It was a port town, bustling and loud. There were creatures of all different species selling their wares to the passerby. Jim jumped off the carriage, flipped the surprised driver a coin, and wandered into the market. He never tired of the sights there. Brightly colored fruits nearly spilled from barrels in front of stalls. Colored cloth hung from stands, floating in the breeze. Jewelry of all shapes and sizes glittered from inside cases. Polka dotted and striped vegetables sat in baskets, glowing slightly in the sun.
Morph, tired from the surfing and carriage hopping, settled himself around Jim's throat in the form of a corded necklace as Jim looked through a barrel of purps. He selected one and rolled a coin across the counter to the vendor. Purple juice dripped down his chin as he bit into the fruit. Two eyes popped open on the pendant and watched the juice, catching the drip on a pink tongue.
"That tickles." Jim told Morph. Morph giggled. Jim spent the afternoon in the market, going from stall to stall. He paused to watch a vendor wind an old fashioned watch, and sniffed the air. He smelled a tell-tale whiff of burning herbs and turned to follow the scent. It led him to a small, brightly colored tent in the middle of the market. He pulled the curtain aside and stepped in. Strong smells assailed his nose as the curtain dropped behind him.
"Welcome. Ah, Jim." A thin, dark gray Felinoid sat behind a small counter, running his fingers over a piece of paper. He looked up and smiled at Jim, who knew him from previous business.
"Hey, Khano." He stepped up to the counter, eyes watering slightly from the smells.
"Did Sarah send you on herb business again today?" the Felinoid asked, green slit pupil-ed eyes returning to his list.
"No," Jim said, glancing at the paper too. "This time I'm looking for something." He pulled the small pouch out of his pocket and held it out to the merchant, who set down his paper and took it gently between two clawed fingertips.
"Could you help me figure out what's in this mixture?" Jim asked apprehensively. The Felinoid reached into the pouch and pulled out two small pinches of the mix, dropping one deftly into a small stone bowl. The other he dropped into a small vial. He handed the pouch back to Jim and picked up the bowl, sniffing it carefully. His eyes narrowed and he scribbled something on the corner of his paper. Then he struck a match and lit the mix, watching intently as the smoke rose in a coil. He sniffed again, and his eyes sparkled. Mumbling to himself, he scribbled more on his paper, then set down his pen.
"Yes, this is a wonderful mix." He told Jim. "I believe I might be able to make some more for you right now."
"What's in it?" Jim asked, curious. The Felinoid stood and started looking over the jars on the shelf behind the counter.
"It's an interesting blend of pedicularis groenlandica, pedicularis racemosa, scutellaria lateriflora, nicotiana tabacum. Commonly known as elephant's head, parrot's beak, skullcap, and oriental tobacco." The Felinoid paused, sniffing the ashes of the mixture. "But there is something I can't quite place…" he offered the bowl to Jim. Jim sniffed carefully.
"It smells almost like… burnt rum?" Kharo's eyes widened and he grinned, flashing his fangs.
"That's what it is! Now I wonder how it was added to the blend…" he started muttering to himself again, looking through his jars. Jim shifted from one foot to the other for a minute or so, then the Felinoid handed him a sachet of herbs.
"This should be almost identical to the current mixture, with just a tiny added pinch of rum soaked catnip." He grinned, baring his fangs again. "If you want, come back in a few days and I can perfectly replicate it. I will just have to soak some of these herbs in rum and dry them. The question is which ones…" he paused, seemingly lost in thought, sniffing the vial. Jim took the sachet and put it in his pocket.
"These herbs are particularly popular with Ursids…" Kharo said to himself, and Jim stiffened.
"How much?" he asked. The Felinoid started slightly, grabbed a jar behind him and looked at the label. He named his price, Jim handed him some coins, thanked him, and left. He meandered towards the edge of the market, fiddling with the pipe in his pocket.