a/n: I should probably warn you that some of the humor used in this chapter is on the darker end of the 'ha-ha' scale. I blame Reaver; He blames those creepers that he sells young people to; they blame the republicans. Although I have to wonder if they even know what a republican is...

Chapter 2:
Day-trip: The Shadow Court

Summary: In which Reaver, Sergeant Smiles, Sparrow, and one lucky Bloodstone-ian frolic through Wraithmarsh to visit those lovely gents at the Shadow Court.


Reaver had not slept well. In fact, he'd spent a good share of the night pacing about his room, scowling and trying to come up with a game plan. Unfortunately, anything he came up with was either faulted, or down right ludicrous. Between the bloody balverine and his lack of firearm he was, essentially, screwed. And not in the way that he would have liked. And he couldn't rely on his crew for much, considering they had no idea what it was they were going to be willingly walking into on the morrow. No, he'd have to come up with something on his own. Something dastardly and underhanded, preferably.

"Oy Reaver!" The sound of a fist hitting the door accompanied the gypsy's yell, effectively pulling the pirate from his mutinous thoughts. "You alive in there?"

Sighing, the thief pulled himself from the chair he'd been slumped in. Better to answer the door then have the man on the other side decide it was an obstacle that needed eliminating. It was, after all, a pain finding just the right type of wood to make such beautiful doors.

Throwing on his best 'I'm better than you and you're boring the crap out of me' face, Reaver removed the one thing that was keeping him from having to look at his 'host. "My dear boy even if I wasn't, that marvelous racket you're making would have brought me to the door anyway."

Sparrow smirked, glittering eyes narrowing as he leant against the doorframe. "Glad to know I can hold your attention."

Reaver waved a hand dismissively. "Yes, yes. Now what do you want hm? I don't suppose you're here to relinquish my property?"

Sparrow snorted. "Hardly. We've got a long walk ahead of us, and I wanted to make sure you didn't plan on sleeping the day away, or managed to go off and lose a limb or two in the night. You know how balverines are. Easily bored, always hungry."

Reaver scowled inwardly. "Yes, well, I hardly think your little beastie could manage to sneak up on me. This is a rather small room you know."

"You'd be surprised. You have to sleep sometime Reaver."

"Is that a threat?"

"Course not. It's a fact…unless you don't actually need to sleep…You do sleep, right?"

"Of course I do. My deal was for eternal youth, not eternal insomnia."

"Ah. Right. Well then." Sparrow rapped a fist against the wooden frame before moving swiftly off towards the stairs. "I suggest you hurry up pirate, or I'll have to choose who you look like for the next ten years!"

By the time what'd been said had fully registered, Sparrow had already disappeared from sight. "Now, either he's trying to be funny, or he's gone completely daft. Who I look like…really."

Xx

The streets were relatively quite, the only people about being the whores and the bumbling drunks. All of which were giving them plenty of space, thanks to the balverine skulking about in Sparrow's shadow.

"Well, see anything you like?" Sparrow jabbed a thumb at a man currently trying to hold himself upright against a fence. "Think you'd look right frightening with those whiskers he's got on 'im."

Reaver raised a brow at the gypsy. "You do realize that I get their youth and not their looks, yes?"

Sparrow shrugged. "Yea yea. Still."

Reaver sighed. "Yes, well, that aside, perhaps picking someone who isn't at the moment capable of standing isn't feasible. We do have to get through Wraithmarsh after all. And I would so detest having to drag some unwashed peasant the entire way."

"Least he'd be compliant. Can't object if he doesn't know where he is."

"Well if you're willing to carry him, then be my guest."

Sparrow eyed the man in question for a moment, before moving on with a wave of his hand. "If I carry him, who's going to keep all the 'beasties' from eating you?"

"The great hero can't do both at once? My, what will your fans think?"

"Weeeell…I suppose I could…But we wouldn't want your 'goods' to be damaged when we get there. The creepies might want a refund."

Reaver sighed, bored with the conversation. "Well, I could always give them you again, being that you seem to be a veritable fontaine de jouvence."

Sparrow threw him a blank look, of which he ignored. Far be it from him if the gypsy couldn't figure out such a simple phrase. And in all honesty, sometimes Reaver found himself surprised that Sparrow knew words that had more than two syllables.

"Hey pet, care for a bit of slap 'n tickle?"

Reaver paused, ignoring both Sparrow(who hadn't realized he was no longer being followed) and the Sergeant(who was watching the pirate with keen eyes). The woman smiled, and Reaver guessed her to be 15 at most; even with the dirt and makeup she couldn't hide the too girlish face. He returned her smile, offering his hand. "My dear, you read my mind."

He pulled her past the balverine, which she didn't seem too particularly phased by, continuing down the street towards where the gypsy stood waiting. He watched the red eyes move over the girl at his side, and at the same time felt her stiffen.

"If he's joinin', it's gonna cost extra."

Reaver chuckled at the sight of Sparrows eyebrows disappearing into his hairline(figuratively, of course). "Don't worry my dear, he's merely going to be our body guard."

She frowned up at him. "Wha'? Why?"

Putting up a most charming façade, he spun her a wonderful little tale that would both ease her mind, and prepare her for the fact she was about to be paraded through Wraithmarsh.

"Well.." Despite the uncertainty in her voice, Reaver knew she'd agree. They always did, when offered the right price. "Ok." She eyed the three of them before allowing Reaver to lead her along.

Xx

The first rays of sunlight were trickling up into the heavens as they crested the hill that overlooked the town. The incessant prattling of Sparrow and the whore was grating on his nerves, and they hadn't even made it to the marsh yet. The girl had been compliantly quite, at first. But Sparrow, for whatever reason, had started asking her all sorts of things, and from there it'd all gone down hill as she grew comfortable in his presence.

"So tha' balverine of yours, he gotta name?"

"Sergeant Smiley. Or Smiles, or Sergeant. Or Ted. But I don't ever call him that, since he's not technically Ted anymore."

The girl giggled, the sound highly irritating to the pirate. "Sergean' Smiley? Why'd ya call him tha'?"

Sparrow looked from the creature in question back to the girl. "Because he's always smiling, of course." He held his index fingers up to his lips, sweeping over them as he pulled his lips back into a feral grin.

She giggled again, throwing a furtive glance at the balverine who was currently watching a group of gulls with great interest. "I see your point. So you knew 'im then? When 'e was Ted I mean."

At this point, Reaver had completely blocked them out. Why ever Sparrow wanted to make friends with the girl he was willingly taking to her doom was beyond him. Making her feel at ease was one thing, but this was, quite frankly, pushing it. Reaver silently swore to whatever bloody gods there were that if the gypsy had a change of heart when the time came, all because he'd made friends with the damned wench, he'd personally feed them both to the banshees, balverine and shadow courtiers aside.

Reaver passed nonchalantly into the tomb that would lead them out into Wraithmarsh, Smiles coming to walk beside him. Although whether it was because he admired Reaver's fearless ascent into the darkness, or because he was wary of him and wanted him within mouth's reach was lost on the pirate. Balverine's were far harder to read than humans, what with all the fur and teeth and such.

"Bit creepy, innit?"

Reaver laughed inwardly, not even annoyed that her voice had somehow found its way back into his head. She had no idea ofwhat was ahead, and that, at least, was something that could be used for his own personal amusement.

Sergeant Smiles huffed, drawing Reaver's gaze. He was met with glowing eyes, eyes that seemed to know exactly what he'd just been thinking about. It unnerved him, a little. "What?"

Xx

The last of the hollow men broke apart with a whoosh and a groan, leaving them in sudden silence. Dead men were irritatingly loud, especially in large quantities, and Reaver was glad for the reprieve. He hated complaining, unless it was he himself that was doing it.

"There sure are alo' ah those things out 'ere…" The girl was currently standing behind Sparrow, clutching at his elbow as she peered around him.

Once he'd ascertained that they were, for the moment, quite alone, Sparrow turned his head to look at her. "Don't worry Marie, that's what I'm here for. Somebody's got to look out for you lot."

She smiled shyly up at him, and Reaver rolled his eyes. He would have entered in his own retort, but he didn't feel like talking to either of them at the moment. They'd been walking for ages, and although he knew they were almost there, it didn't change the fact that he felt he was stuck in some never-ending hell. The less he spoke, the less likely it'd be that he'd snap and push them both off a cliff.

With a pointed look at the Sergeant (who was gnawing contentedly on a leg bone) Reaver continued on down the path. Smiles(as Reaver figured he would) followed, despite that his master was still waxing heroic for the soon to be sacrifice. The creature had obviously been instructed to watch him, and that, combined with the fact that Sparrow could look after himself, kept him from feeling bad about leaving him and the tart behind.

Within a few minutes the doorway to the shadow court came into view, the only sound the squeak of the hanging cages as they swayed in the breeze. The place was just as sinister and foreboding as he remembered. Which for once didn't seem to be a bad thing, as it had effectively shut the girl up.

"Where are we?" Apparently he'd spoken too soon(so to speak).

"Well, uh, it's, a uh-"

"A short-cut. Skip over the nasty bits." Reaver cut in before Sparrow could say something asinine. He threw the girl a wink for good measure. She was still giving the place the evil eye, but seemed to accept the lie without too much trouble. Ah the young, so naïve. Fortunately for her, he was about to alleviate her of it. Well, technically a trio of shadow…men…things were, but that was neither here nor there. He'd still take the credit…unless he was called on it, of course.

With distaste that he didn't outwardly show, Reaver pulled the dark seal from the small pouch he'd shoved it in(Like hell he'd keep that in his pocket). With a click the entrance opened, the grating of the stone echoing in the darkness beyond.

"Oh Sparrow dear, care to illuminate this troublesome path for us?" He threw the gypsy a sickengly sweet look.

With a roll of his eyes and an exaggerated half-bow, Sparrow moved past Reaver into the passage. "As yeh wish, mas'ah Reavuh." Raising his palm and flicking his fingers slightly, Sparrow summoned a ball of flame to hover in his hand.

Reaver chuckled at the gypsy's exaggerated drawl, grabbing the girl by the arm and pulling her swiftly after him. Smiles wove his way around them, slinking into the darkness further ahead.

"Oi Smiley, don't wander too far!" Sparrows voice effectively covered the noise of the door closing behind them of it's own accord.

Reaver, however, noted it, slight trepidation squirming in his gut. The judges knew they'd arrived.

Xx

"Hey Reaver, I know it's been awhile since I've, uh, used this shortcut, but aren't there generally more…people down here?"

The pirate tore his gaze away from the ceiling to look over at the human torch that was Sparrow. "Hm? Oh, them? Well, now that you mention it…" He swept his gaze over the flickering shadows of the current dungeon-esque room they were passing through. It'd been even longer since he himself had last passed through the place, but now that the subject was brought up, he noticed the distinct lack of minions hounding them.

"Well?"

Reaver sighed in a long suffering sort of way. "Yes, I suppose there is a distinct lack of the usual crowd. One can only hope they've all grown bored of the place and gone to seek, oh what's that term you people use? Ah yes, greener pastures."

Despite the horrific lighting, Reaver could make out a brow being raised in his direction.

"'ho'd want ta be down 'ere?"

Reaver looked down at the girl by his side. He'd almost forgotten she was there, despite that he'd only moments ago been engaged in an evasive conversation meant to keep her in the dark about the shadow beings. And that he still had a hold of her arm. "Ruffians mostly. Nothing the mighty Sparrow can't handle, I imagine." The way the girl beamed at the gypsy, you'd think she didn't catch the sarcasm he'd practically drowned the statement in.

"Wow, the almighty Reaver handing out praise? I'm truly honored." At least Sparrow understood he'd been verbally bashed.

"As you should be." He threw the hero a regal gesture and a wink.

Sparrow snickered and shook his head. "So I've been tol-Smiles! Leave that alone! What have I told you about mauling inanimate people?"

Reaver followed Sparrow's gaze, and sure enough the balverine was standing on a statue plinth, chewing on the thing's outstretched arm. Obviously having once been human didn't mean the thing retained the intelligence of one. Unless, of course, Ted had been of the all brawn no brain type(he had been a blacksmith's apprentice after all, so the idea was plausible).

"Bloody hell Sergeant, get that thing out of your mouth! You have no idea where it's been!" With obvious reluctance the beast did as he was told, the arm glistening with saliva and flecked with tooth marks.

"Here, I wager. I doubt it can move all that far, being a statue and all. Although I must say it's doubtful there exists something fouler than the disease ridden clap-trap of that pet of yours." Reaver followed the balverine's movements with his eyes, noting the way he sniffed and scratched at wall and floor alike.

"Obviously you've never been around Hammer when she's having her 'time of the month'."

Reaver shuddered, both at the mental images, and the implications. He found the woman's attitude aggravating on a normal day, Sparrow's comment making him never ever want to be around her in such a state. Ever. He could not be held accountable for his actions, no matter what Theresa said to the contrary.

In no time at all they found themselves descending the final stairwell into the heart of the place. The closer they got, the stronger Reaver's unease became. Not that he'd ever show it, but he deplored the place. And the shadow judges gave him the creeps, no matter how many times he laid eyes on them.

The girl in his grasp tensed, and he absently ran his thumb up and down her arm in an attempt to keep her docile. He so hated it when they tried to run.

As they entered the final chamber, Sparrow moved to stand next to the exit while Reaver lead the girl further in. Smiles didn't even cross the threshold, instead standing eerily still just below the last step.

Reaver stopped in the middle of the floor, turning slightly to look at his toll. "Would you be a dear and hold this for me? Just for a moment." He held out the pouch containing the dark seal to her, which she took, somewhat reluctantly.

"I-I though' this was a shor'cu'…" Her voice was small and sickeningly child-like in it's fear.

"Did I say that?"

Bulbous eyes peered up at him, then looked quickly back at Sparrow. The hero was leaning against the wall, arms crossed, staring fixedly at the floor.

A low growl from the balverine warned Reaver that their hosts were approaching, and sure enough seconds later the three shadow judges appeared as if from nowhere.

The girl gasped and tried to back away, thwarted of course by Reaver's now steely grip.

"Welcome." The three intoned together, burning eyes surveying the group with unblinking scrutiny.

"Ah gentlemen, how simply marvelous to see you again! As dashing and eloquent as ever I see! Love what you've done with the place." He threw them a dashing smile, keeping the sarcasm in his words as nonexistent as possible.

"It has been long since last you graced us with your presence Thief Prince. Always finding others to dirty their hands for you." The middle judge made a vague gesture towards Sparrow, obviously remembering him. Although Reaver would have been more surprised if they hadn't. After all, what else went on in their 'lives' asides from taking the occasional sacrifice? Poker night? The pirate doubted that particular notion quite highly.

"Yes and I am indeed sorry about that. But you know how it is, eternity making for one busy life and all that."

"Just do not forget your obligations, Reaver." The judge's tone somehow managed to turn even darker then previously.

"Of course not! How could one forget such a…pressing issue?"

He wasn't completely sure, but it almost sounded as though the word 'wrinkles' had magically come into existence somewhere near where Sparrow was lurking. How peculiar, he'd have to ask the gypsy about it later.

"Which is, in fact, why I find myself here to-night." He pulled the girl in front of him, wishing most vehemently that he had his gun to stick in her scrawny little back. Now that would most definatly keep her from moving.

The judges' attentions seemed to move to the proffered girl, who was still clutching the pouch containing the seal.

"So it will be: the one holding the dark seal will sacrifice their youth so the Prince of Thieves may retain his."

At the words a pulse beat through the girl's core, Reaver releasing her with a not so tiny shove forward. He didn't know what would happen if he was holding his sacrifice at the time, but he wasn't too keen to find out.

She stumbled a bit, before spinning to look beseechingly at the two men. Sparrow was still staring at the floor as if it had said something dirty to him, and Reaver was inspecting his nails. They were sparkling clean, despite the trek there. He silently applauded himself.

"Wha's goin' on? I di'nt agree tah this…" She whimpered pathetically, but was ignored. She opened her mouth to beseech the hero, but her words were choked off as a strange, unearthly fog invaded every crevice of her being. Before their eyes(though neither of them were actually watching) her youth was sucked away, skin sagging and hair graying.

Reaver reveled in the prickly feeling that erupted on every inch of his flesh as his youth was renewed. It was peculiar, if not erotic, and was(he had to admit) his favorite part of the whole damn process. Oh if only he could have been back in his mansion like the last time he(that is Sparrow) made a sacrifice. Now that had been an excellent romp between the sheets. Although he couldn't for the life of him recall exactly who it had been with.

"The sacrifice has been made."

Reaver dropped the hand he'd been staring at without seeing for the past few minutes and looked up at the dark men-things. "Marvelous! Now that that's taken care of, we best be off. Things to do, miles of muck to trudge through. You understand. Ta!" Snatching the pouch easily from the weeping girl, Reaver spun on his heel and began the trek back to the other hellhole(Wraithmarsh, not Bloodstone.)

Upon seeing Reaver coming towards him, Smiles spun and fled up the stairs, clearly disturbed by the place. Or Reaver. Again, balverines, hard to read, etc. etc. and so forth.

"Are-are you just going to leave her down here?"

Reaver glanced over his shoulder at the troubled hero traipsing behind him. "Why not? She's no longer of use to me, and I dare say the natives will enjoy her company."

The sound of footsteps behind him stopped as Sparrow paused to look back at the girl who hadn't budged from where she'd been left.

Reaver sighed and stopped as well, turning slightly to better face his jailer and bodyguard. "What do you expect me to do with her? Bring her back to her family? Looking like that with my name on her lips? I think not, my poor, dear little Sparrow. Better to leave her to the beasties." A sly look came over his face. "Or better still to nestle a bullet between those once-pretty eyes of hers. Save her the pain of being eaten alive."

Sparrow turned to look at him, eyes wide as his morals clashed with one another. The sight of the man's plight pleased Reaver to no end. With a smirk, Reaver turned and resumed his ascent, throwing a lazy 'get on with it' gesture over his shoulder.

A few drawn out minutes of silence later, and the sound of footsteps behind him resumed, Sparrow skipping stairs in his attempt to catch up to his house guest/hostage/person. "Leaving her to the beasties then hm? Not my choice, but it will have to do."

"I don't kill people, Reaver."

"Yes, I'm quite aware of that annoying little fact, mon cherie. However, I find I must ask, is it really better to leave her to the devices of the, ah, locals?"

Sparrow was silent, except for the sound of his moping, which Reaver could clearly hear. Not that he was making any actual noise.

The rest of the trek was made in a similar fashion, Sparrow not even noticing(or caring) when they passed Smiles once again chewing on the same statue he'd been at earlier. The man didn't utter so much as a word when the sound of cracking stone rent the air and a jovial balverine romped past with a stiff grey arm clamped firmly in his maw.

Reaver chuckled at the sight, although he was hoping the prize would get lost somewhere in the marsh. The thing was covered in slobber and dust after all, and his poor carpets had already suffered so much.

xx

Finally they reached the main entrance, Reaver inserting the seal with glee at the prospect of being gone from the place. The door opened with it's usual grating noise, cool air rushing in to greet them. "Ah the outside world, how I've missed you." He stepped briskly out into the dreary night, glad for the somewhat fresher air. "Coming Sparrow love?"

Sparrow had paused just outside the door, one hand holding it open as he looked back the way they'd come.

"Now don't tell me you've changed your mind, my dear boy."

The gypsy looked back at him, a frown on his face. "I-no. No." Sparrow's eyes moved to stare at Reaver's shoes, causing some of the pirate's good mood to evaporate. Quite intent on returning to his mansion sometime within the next decade, Reaver moved forward and grabbed the hero's upper arm, leading him away from the doorway much as he'd led the girl in to it.

"Come now love, I know just how to cheer you up! Oh don't look at me like that, it's something completely harmless as far as your particular moral compass is concerned. Why, all you need to do is tear apart a few of those charmingly dead fellows, and you'll feel right as rain!" He released the gypsy, giving his arm a light(but probably somewhat painful) squeeze first.

"Eh, I don't know Reaver…" Despite the lack of enthusiasm, Sparrow came to walk next to him.

"Aht-tut-tut, you shouldn't question the wisdom of my words, dear boy! Just go to it, then revel in my rightness." The sounds of wisps diving into the ground to bury themselves in the husks of dead men punctuated his words quite nicely, if he did say so himself.

Sparrow sighed(though it sounded melodramatic enough to be false), pulling his sword from his sheath and collecting a ball of fire in his fist. "Fine."


Ug, I hate trying to write accent's(which is why I only mentioned Sparrow has one as opossed to writing one for him) buuuut I attempted to give one to the girl(what was her name? Mary? Well, it's Mary now. Real names be damned! You come when I call no matter if I've gotten your name right or not! What? 'nickname feature'? Pffft, right ok. That's totally what I'm talking about.)

ANYWAY. Next chapter: The trio return to the manor to find more bleeding house guests.

*oh, and the french Reaver used, fontaine de jouvence means, as google-fu has informed me, fountain of youth. I figure since that's not something well used(at least that I know of in america) I should translate. Saves you from having to use your google-fu...or not, whatever you want, dears.

ta!
deadpan riot