From her position, precariously balanced upon a thin ledge, Emera could only just see through the balcony doors and into the room beyond. A figure, undoubtedly Jack, was leaning against what looked like a wardrobe. Emera tried to get his attention a few times but it was no use. He was too involved with the Duchess to notice her. Fortunately, from her new spot she could hear the on-going conversation more clearly.
"Lord Goodfellow," The Duchess' voice was overly flirtatious, "this really is most irregular. What in Heaven's name will your wife think?"
"Seeing as she not my wife, I doubt she'll think anything about it at all." Jack shrugged.
"Not your... explain yourself." The woman said, flattery replaced with suspicion.
He pulled off his mask, "Simple, Love. I'm Captain Jack Sparrow."
"What are you doing?!" Emera hissed under her breath as she watched the strange scene unfolding.
"Captain Sparrow." The Duchess spoke his name in little more than a whisper, "My Pirate Lover, I always knew you would return to me!"
"Lavinia." Jack forced a smile, "It's been years and you haven't aged a day."
If what he said was true, than the Duchess must have been old for a very long time. She was, in a way, still very beautiful but she couldn't be younger than 60 years. Emera could see her clearly now. The woman had crossed into view and thrown herself into Jack's arms. She was buxom, with golden hair which faded into silver strands. The young sailor couldn't see any more than that. The rest of the Duchess was consumed within the folds of her voluptuous gown and concealed behind the curves of the Peacock Mask. She clutched Jack, planting kisses across his cheeks and jaw line. He looked frozen to the spot, an expression of discomfort plastered across his face. The Pirate's arms were withdrawn over his head as though he didn't know what to do with them. Emera couldn't blame him really. He was practically being attacked by an overly friendly aunt or grandmother. An experience Emera had only gone through once while visiting Rosa's family in Spain.
The uncomfortable reunion continued for several more minutes before Jack was able to slip from her grasp and say, "Lavinia, Love, I've yet to wish you a happy birthday."
"My dashing Pirate Love, you remembered after all this time!" She made to grab him again.
Jack backed towards the balcony, arbitrarily scooping up a cane as he did so, "Aye, and I've even brought you a gift."
"You have?" She beamed at him.
"I have." He confirmed, leaning his weight on the decorated walking stick, "It's on the balcony."
"You sly devil, how did you ever get it out there?" She asked, stepping through the doors.
Emera flattened herself against the wall of the manor, hoping to vanish into the smooth bricks. Luckily, the thick growth of ivy provided all the cover she needed. Safe from her position behind the greenery, the young sailor could see everything taking place upon the balcony. The Duchess glided gracefully to the railing, followed by Jack who shot a glance towards the tangle of vines. He didn't see Emera. Instead the Pirate cleared his throat a little and sat himself upon the rail closest to the lattice.
"Look, Darling." He said loudly as he gestured with the cane, "You can see the lighthouse from here. It's such a splendid view. The lighthouse looks marvellous, don't you think? A... a house of... of light. What an idea..."
Jack waved a hand towards the shore as he craned his neck, looking at the ground below the balcony. Apparently 'lighthouse' was the signal. Emera buried her face into her palm. Of course he would make reference to the last time she was perilously perched on a ledge only a breath's distance from a sheer drop. Why wouldn't he? Bringing up that rather delightful memory was just like him. She bit her tongue to keep herself from lobbing a curse or two in his general direction. With annoyance nagging her somewhere along the back of her neck, she tried to get his attention without giving herself away completely. She settled on a whistle. Jack turned when he heard the low notes, his dark eyes locked on to the mass of shrubbery. Emera whistled again and he smiled.
"Come, Lover, where's my gift?" The Duchess turned away from the view.
"Ah..." Jack tore his eyes from the greenery, "I must inform you, Darling, it's not much."
"No matter, my Love." She wrapped her arms around his neck again, "Whatever it is, I shall cherish it."
Emera rolled her eyes and stifled a snort.
Jack beamed down at the Duchess, "Close your eyes and take off your mask, Love."
"My mask?" The Duchess clutched her chest, feigning shock, "Whatever for?"
"So," Jack closed whatever distance there was between them, "I might bestow upon you a most illustrious birthday gift."
She giggled like a school-girl and closed her eyes. Then she removed the mask from her face. Jack took it from her with a devilish smile before leaning in ever more closely. What happened next nearly caused Emera to lose her footing. Jack pressed his lips to the Duchess' in what could only be described as a proper snog. With such a distraction, it must have taken a bit of luck for Emera's otherwise horrified eyes to notice what Jack was really doing. As he occupied the Duchess, he simultaneously looped the Mask's strings around the end of the cane he had swiped. Then, carefully so as not to give himself away, he held fast to one end of the walking stick while extending the other (and the Mask) out towards Emera's hiding place. It was only just barely out of Emera's reach, making her lean for it. But she got it. Her fingers grasped the smooth golden face piece and a smile stretched across her lips. As the young sailor stuffed her prize into Jack's satchel, next to her own mask, the Pirate Lad closed the kiss between himself and the Duchess. An all too pleased with himself smirk played across his lipstick smeared mouth as he pulled away.
"Captain Sparrow..." The Duchess breathed, fanning herself with one hand, "By what measure can such a gift be considered 'not much' by any degree?"
Jack smoothed the folds of his frockcoat, "My dear, you flatter me."
"No, Sir. It is you who... wait... oh..." She trailed off, "What have you done with my mask?"
Emera, who was far too concerned with not falling, didn't hear her accomplice's reply. It would be a tricky thing, to say the least, to get back down the lattice. Giving it a try her heel slipped, all but sending her plummeting to the earth below. A lightning bolt of fear ripped through her from stem to stern. Emera had to hold her breath to keep from screaming. She recovered quickly, slamming herself against the stonewall as her heart roared like canon fire in her chest. It was several moments before she could bring herself to move.
'We are not doing that again.' She thought as she glanced down at the drop.
Looking around herself, she spied an open window. Emera shimmied along the thin ledge slowly, one centimeter at a time, until she reached the portal. Then, she unceremoniously threw herself over the windowsill, landing on all fours in the middle of a long corridor. She righted herself, brushing off the back of her shift, and took a look around. Inside the manor was dim, the only light coming from a pair of torches at the end of the hall. The long walls were papered in a fine floral print and hung with portraits of varying sizes. Emera was rather impressed, however the simple passage still paled in comparison to the elegance of the foyer. She mused for a moment about one day owning such a home but quickly shrugged off the idea. She would have time to fantasize later.
Emera had just began to wonder which way the closest exit would be when a set of double doors, not ten paces in front of her, burst open with a sound like thunder. Jack exploded into the hall, his arms flailing around him (the cane he had claimed still firmly in one hand) as he spun in a quick circle. When he saw Emera he frowned, confused. The young sailor could only assume that she was making a similar face. Evidently, it appeared as though the Duchess hadn't taken the disappearance of the Mask very well. Incoherent screaming flooded forth from the room Jack had just departed. Jack glanced over his shoulder for a split second before bolting down the corridor and away from Emera.
"Sparrow! Of all the - gah!" Emera yelled after him, "Wait for me!"
The instant her lead-foot came down on the floor, Emera realized why stockings and polished hardwood don't mix well. Her legs shot out from under her and she landed face down on the boards in a jumble. Pain shot through her forearms from where they had slapped the hard surface. The young sailor gritted her teeth, swearing under her breath, as she hauled herself back up. She would be damned if she'd let the likes of a hallway get the best of her. Starting off again, this time at a light jog rather than a sprint, the Pirate fought to keep her footing. Her feet slipped violently with every step as she moved to the end of the corridor. The floorboards might as well have been a frozen pond and her stockings a pair of ice-skates. She had half a mind to take them off, but the sound of the still screaming Duchess (and what Emera was certain to be military-grade boots) behind her made stopping seem like a bad idea. She didn't much fancy being thrown in prison, let alone while she was in her undergarments.
It was both a blessing and a curse that Jack hadn't bore witness to Emera's face plant. If he had, she no doubt would have been subject to his particular brand of ridicule. At least she was spared this. However, because he had carried on without her she had no idea which way it was he had gone. When she reached the window at the end of the corridor she was faced with a simple question. Right or Left? Emera glanced down each hall, looking for any sign that might tell her which way her companion had gone. It was no use. Jack hadn't left her a single marker nor any trail to follow.
"Leave it t' a sneaksby like Sparrow t' run off on me again!" She muttered as she tried to settle on a direction.
When the curtains of the window in front of her flew apart she hardly understood what she was seeing. The movement of the fabric caused the torch-flames, which flanked the portal on either side, to shutter. Shadows danced like phantoms as the figure behind the curtain reached out and took hold of Emera's wrists. It pulled her through the mouth of the heavy fabric, forcing her to be swallowed up. Strong arms wrapped around her tightly despite her struggling. The undescript clamped a hand over Emera's mouth, silencing a scream she hadn't been aware she was in the middle of. Emera drove an elbow into the gut of her captor and twisted around, breaking free from the grip on her mouth. Without a second thought, she plowed her fist into what felt like a face.
"Bugger! Bugger! Bugger!" Jack swore as he clutched his face, "Son-of-a-pock-ridden-Gilflurt! Emera!"
"Jack?! I'm so sorry!" She covered her mouth with her hands, mortified at what she had done, "Ya scared me t' death! I didn't know what t' do! I'm so sorry! What the Hell are ya doing back here anyway?"
"Shh!" He hissed at her, still clutching his face and bent over nearly double with most of his weight resting on the bejewelled cane, "Do you want us to be caught?! Bugger! That's the third time you've punched me! And each time you manage to crack me one, it lands in the exact same spot! Are you aware of this? Hell's Bells, you pack a wallop for being such a tiny waif!"
"Shite, I'm sorry Jack." Emera awkwardly patted his shoulder with one hand, not sure how she should comfort him, "Are you… alright?"
He straightened and shook his head a little as if to shrug away the pain, "I think I'll live, Darling. Now, please tell me you got the Mask."
"Aye, that I did." Emera nodded and patted the satchel happily, "Yer tactic was brilliant, by the way. Although I did almost fall t' my death."
"And I nearly had my face eaten off, so we're squared." He shrugged, "Now let's get out of here before -"
Jack was cut off by the sudden removal of the curtains from around them. A troop of three guards stood before them all armed. The one in front, who had pulled the curtains aside, looked down at the two Pirates with a mixture of anger and confusion on his face. Emera thought that she and Jack must have looked somewhat outlandish, what with his lipstick smeared (and now punch-red) face and Emera's dishevelled and inappropriate attire. In fact, Emera supposed that out of context it might look as though she was responsible for the lipstick. They were, after all, in a rather out-of-the-way and intimate location. The thought was enough to make her loose her composure, however she desperately stifled her childish giggle fit.
"Oh." Jack looked across the group and then smiled, "Good evening gentlemen. Where my wife and I disturbing you?"
Apparently Jack had jumped to the same conclusion Emera had. His cheerful tone was her undoing. Emera doubled over in a torrent of laughter, barely able to breathe through her mirth. Jack disguised a chuckled as a cough and placed a hand on Emera's shoulder.
"You'll have to excuse the Missus." Jack explained calmly, "I'm afraid she hasn't got the head required to partake in Duke Folconi's wine. She's had one too many, me thinks. Darling, how's about you and I go and track down your clothes, eh?"
The first guard's glare deepened, "Pirate, you and your accomplice are under arrest for the theft of the Golden Peacock Mask and no doubt countless other crimes!"
"Ah." Jack's cheery manner diminished, "In that case... Dearest?"
Luckily Emera managed to sober up. Straightening, despite the ach now present in her sides, she took a breath to ensure she was settled. Then, with a small smile, she propelled her fist forward and straight into the guard's jaw. Pain shot across her knuckles, causing her to swear in a most unladylike way. The man staggered back a little and into one of his comrades. Jack brandished his cane, cracking it across the shins of one of the other guards. The poor fellow crumpled over his legs and Jack struck him again across the back. By this time Emera's opponent had recovered. He grabbed a hold of her by the shoulders and held on despite her struggling.
"Reid! Go fetch Simons and Lark." The first man ordered.
Reid, a terrified looking red-head no older than 17, nodded quickly before darting off down the hall. Emera thrashed against the hold on her. Beside her, the other guard had caught Jack's legs in a swipe and now the pair were grappling over the cane. Jack got loose from the tangle of limbs, leaping to his feet with the guard right behind him. Emera stayed her struggling to watch the pair duel. She had never really seen Jack fight before, other than holding off Anamaria during their last exploit. And she was amazed to find that he was remarkable at it. He danced around his opponent as easily as he had danced with Emera. Using his cane as a sword, the Pirate spared against the guard and his saber.
The man made a move meant to split Jack down the middle. Bringing the cane over his head he was able to block the blow and knock the saber to one side. Jack made a swing at the guard, but his attack was stopped short by the man grabbing hold of the cane's end. There was a distinct clicking sound and, without warning, the shaft of the cane split away from its hilt. The guard stumbled back with the body of the walking stick still in his hands. Both he and Jack were staring at a thin, glinting, blade that sat were the cane should have been. Everyone stopped moving.
"Did you know it could do that?" Jack asked no one in particular, amazed, "I didn't know it could do that!"
"Don't just stand there gawking! Use it!" Emera shouted at him.
Jack cracked a grin and the battle was on once more. Now armed with an actual blade, he was far more dangerous. This was a fact that his opponent had picked up on as well. The guard seemed to have an air of caution about him as he moved to attack. Jack, however, couldn't be bothered either way. In fact, he looked as though he was enjoying every moment of it. While the two resumed their duel, Emera took the opportunity that had been presented to her. She knocked the back of her head sharp into the nose and mouth of the man holding her. He yelped in shock while simultaneously releasing her. She spun on her heel and managed to land a lucky kick. The poor man crumpled to the floor in a gasping heap.
"Sorry, Mate." Emera shrugged and turned to where here friend was still sparing, "Jack! I think it's about time t' wrap it up, don't you?"
"Eh?" Jack ducked under a blow, "Oh! Right!"
Dodging behind the guard, the Pirate caught the back of the man's belt with his blade. A smooth flick of his wrist was all it took to split the strap of leather. The guard's belt and affects fell around his ankles, tripping him up until he was face down. With both of the guards now decorating the floor, the two Pirates wasted no time in making their escape. Hand in hand, the pair flew down the hall to their left. Emera silently thanked the stars that no one was watching them flee. Between her slipping about on the polished wood and Jack's flailing, they made quite the ridiculous pair. She suspected that anyone seeing them would easily mistake them for a pair of wild drunks. But at least they were making some ground. Emera was just getting a hold on her footing when Jack stopped dead in his tracks. She plowed into his shoulder and nearly lost her feet out from under her again.
"Jack! What are ya doing?!" She shoved him, irritated.
"Look!" He pointed up at one of the portraits on the wall in front of them, "I knew she kept it! Never doubted it for a moment!"
The portrait in question was perhaps only a few feet in either direction. It hung in a golden frame, which Emera found somewhat gaudy. Now, Emera was not very educated in the matters of art. She had seen the occasional painting (while stealing them) but she had never really paid them much attention. This painting was something Emera had never seen before. It was unmistakably of the Duchess but, unlike the other portraits on the wall, this was just of her face. Heavy black strokes formed the curve of her face and the line of her neck. The colour came from a wash of red that coated not only the canvas but the figure as well. In many ways, it could have been something a child created. At first glance it would no doubt be seen as sloppy or unsophisticated. But the features of the face were so delicate, so beautiful that it looked like the work of any master. Emera had to force herself to turn away from the piece as realization dawned on her.
"Wait... she's that Duchess?!" She asked, floored by her new comprehension.
Jack started to reply but saw something over Emera's shoulder and said in a rush, "We'll discuss this later. Come on!"
The young sailor didn't need to look behind her to know that the reinforcements Reid had gone to collect had finally arrived. The sound of heavy foot falls and shouts regarding 'King and Country' echoed down the corridor. As Emera followed closely behind Jack, heart racing with every slick step, she couldn't help but smile. Jack had been right. The running, the fighting, the thrill of danger around every bend... she did love it more than life itself.
* The portrait in this part of the story is based off one of Johnny Depp's real paintings. He's actually a rather remarkable artist (in my opinion.) If you'd like to see the one I used as inspiration and a few of his other works go to www. eotgproductions /paintings*
