"What lies ahead of us and what lies behind us are small compared to what lies within us."
Stan Lee
Demon Called Deception
Chapter Ten: Villains Revealed
"I'm still not sure why I agreed ta meet wit' ya."
"Because, Captain, I know what you are looking for," he answered, smirking. "Or rather, who."
"Do ye now?"
"Yes. I also know who you are. I can help you find her. All I ask in return is a chance to get at her myself."
The captain's eyes narrowed to slits. "Why should I give ya anythin'?"
"Your blood calls for her, doesn't it?" he asked. "There is a longing for her that needs to be satisfied. The girl in the next cabin almost ended it, didn't she? Your hunger was almost satiated even though you haven't taken her.
"She isn't worth it, is she? Your captive, I mean. She's no good to you. She's useless," he paused. "But the other one, the Guardian, now she is a different story.
"Ever since she was born you could feel yourself being pulled towards her. The aching, the calling. You know she is the One, the one who will finally give you what you want."
"And what is that?"
The man smirked again. "The thesaurus peritorum."
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"You know," she laughed, "ya never did tell me who this Lily-Rose was."
Jack smirked, rolling them over, planting feather-light kisses over her skin. "No one as important as you," he replied, avoiding the question.
"Obviously she was important enough ta get 'er name tattooed on yer chest."
Jack lifted her arm to his lips, kissing the tattoo that was identical to his own. "Am I important enough ta you, then, love?"
"You know you are, ya bloody fool. Why else would I 'ave taken yer name?"
Jack thought for a moment, pursing his lips. "I thought it was jus' cuz ya wanted ta settle down."
"If I wanted ta settle down, I would've stayed in England."
"Ya would've missed our little midnight rendezvous too much Lor, ya wouldn't've been able ta stay away."
"Yer right," Lor whispered, pulling him down to her. "Yer too damn irresistible."
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"Ya should really knock before ya enter someone else's cabin," Jack said, opening his eyes slowly. "I was havin' a really good dream."
Emory snorted. "Yer one ta talk."
Jack sat up, running his hands over his face. A sloshing sound drew his attention over to Emory as she sat at his desk, her arm outstretched, a bottle of rum clenched tightly between her fingers.
"I figure ya could use a li'l pick me up," she stated simply.
Jack grinned, slowly climbing out of bed and walking over to her. He took the bottle from her, popping the cork and taking a swig from it.
"Been back ta yer ship lass? Yer first mate was three sheets ta the wind last I saw 'im."
Emory nodded. "I know. 'E gets that way when I do somethin' 'e doesn't like." She shrugged, her cold gaze going to Jack's face. "Can't blame 'im really, 'e's like the father I never 'ad."
Jack paused, the bottle hovering near his mouth. His eyes locked on hers, taking in the deep pool of anger spreading in her one, black iris and he knew that she knew.
He sighed. "You know."
"I'm not an idiot Captain Sparrow."
"'Ow'd ya find out?"
"You let it slip when we were still in Port Royal. You said Rebecca was yer daughter, which, obviously since she's supposedly my twin, would make me yer daughter as well."
Jack sighed again.
"It didn't come as any surprise ta anyone else either. Course, no one else may've caught it. What really amazed me was that Tristan knew. He was the one who allowed me ta really understand."
"I take it 'e told ya earlier tonight?" Jack asked, placing the bottle on the desk.
"Despite what my overly concerned first mate might believe, nothin' 'appened. I don't trust Tristan."
"But you've trusted everythin' 'e's told ya about everythin' that's 'appenin' now."
Emory stared over at him, all emotion emptying from her eyes. Jack wondered for a moment how she could have gotten eyes like that. Such odd eyes, the likes of which he had never seen before. And then it hit him.
"A sparrow will hold the key," he whispered, fingering his braided beard.
"What?"
Jack shook his head. "Nothin'."
Emory continued to stare at him, her eyes narrowing. There was something he wasn't telling her, something that he wanted to hide from her. Again.
"I never entirely trusted ya before, Cap'n Sparrow," she started. "There was always somethin' you weren't tellin' me, somethin' you were always hidin' from me.
"First it was that I was yer child, which apparently means somethin' important. Then it was whatever was inside the box that ya jus' 'ad ta 'ave. Now it's whatever this is," Emory paused. "Tell me, Cap'n Sparrow, 'ow is it that I'm still supposed ta trust ya when yer never truthful wit' me?"
Jack gazed over at her, taking in her cold eyes and expressionless face. "'Ow'd ya get like this?"
Emory drew back slightly, her eyebrows furrowing. "Like what?"
"Yer so angry love. So cold."
Emory's eyes flicked away from his penetrating gaze, wandering around his cabin. Her gaze took in the various maps hanging on the walls, her eyes reading the titles of the many books lining his shelves.
She turned her attention back to him moments later. "What do ya want me ta say Sparrow? That I'm like this because of 'ow I was raised in Tortuga? Well I 'ave news fer ya. I wasn't raised in Tortuga, I survived it.
"My mother-the woman who raised me-died when I was five. I lived for the next ten years on the streets picking pockets and stealing food. One of Amora's clients took pity on me, training me in how to use the sword whenever he was around, which wasn't often."
Emory paused for a moment, running a hand through her tangled hair. "It wasn't until the bloody bastard who used ta be cap'n of me ship tried ta grope me, that my life turned around."
"You were fifteen then?" Jack interrupted.
Emory nodded. "Aye."
"And ya became captain?"
"No. Well, not really. Conway served as a temporary cap'n fer about three years, teachin' me everythin' I needed ta know about bein' a pirate cap'n, which included never trustin' anyone."
"Ya can't go through life like that love."
"Yer one ta talk Sparrow. You don't trust anyone either," Emory replied, taking a drink from the bottle she held in her hand.
"Sure I do," Jack countered. "I trusted yer mum with my life. An' I trust Will an' Elizabeth an' their kids. Most of all I trust my crew. They've been with me through everythin'."
"But ya didn't trust me enough ta tell me I was yer daughter?"
Jack sighed, scratching an old scar on his bare chest. "There were more factors ta that then you know. There're other factors that I don't even know about, prophecy's and keys. Things that I can't explain, but things that all seem ta tie inta me bein' a part of this bloody mess. I'm a part of the same bloody curse that Lor was."
Emory narrowed her eyes in confusion. "What're ya talkin' about?"
In reply, Jack stood up slowly and walked behind her, lifting up an ornate wooden box off of one of the bookshelves lining the wall. He placed the box in front of her, dropping a key into her lap. Emory looked up at him, one eyebrow arching slightly.
"What is it?"
Jack sat back down, taking a long drink from his own bottle. "Remember the box I needed from Kingston?" Emory nodded slowly. Jack pointed down at the box in front of her. "That's it."
Emory stared down at it, her fingers brushing the delicately carved lid. The carving portrayed a dragon flying over images of ships, stormy seas tossing them about. "It's beautiful," she whispered.
"It was yer mum's. That was 'er father's symbol, one she adopted as 'er own." He gave a sad smile. "Open it."
Emory lifted the key from her lap, staring down at the gold figure of a dragon head, its tongue becoming the base of the key. She slid the prongs into the keyhole and turned it, listening to the 'click' that sounded when the lock opened.
She looked up at Jack before she lifted the lid, gazing into his own sad expression. Emory inhaled sharply, and then opened the box. A musty smell hit her nose, an old smell that had been locked in the wooden box. Her mismatched eyes took in the contents of the box immediately. A simple gold ring sat atop an old tattered book.
Emory lifted the ring out slowly, a thin gold chain following. Her fingers traced the simple ring and her heart began to pound. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she became dizzy. Laughter echoed in her ears, a musical laugh that she had only heard in her dreams. A sadness erupted in her next, followed once again by laughter and an emotion that she could only describe as hope.
"Was this hers?" she whispered.
From the corners of her eyes she could see Jack nod. "Aye. I gave it to 'er when she was seven," he replied softly.
Emory gave a slight smile. "You knew 'er that long?"
"Aye."
Emory nodded, placing the ring and necklace gently down on the desktop. She turned her attention to the old book, the last item in the box. She lifted it slowly, carefully, getting the feeling that it was as old as her if not older. The thick cover was blank, its corners bent in slightly. The binding was well worn as if it had been read countless of times by unknown people.
She flipped the cover open, her eyes taking in the yellowed pages and thin handwritten lettering. A History was all the small script said, giving no hint as to what the book could possibly be about. Emory turned the page, her eyes glancing at the words.
"Don't read it here," Jack said, pulling her from her thoughts. "Read it later in yer own cabin. It may 'ave the answers ya want, but it may also put more questions in yer mind. You should go now anyway. It's gettin' late an' we leave early in the mornin'. We 'ave another ship ta catch up to."
"Do you know where it's 'eaded?" she asked, placing the items carefully back into the wooden box.
Jack shook his head. "No, but I will."
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Two figures slept on different ships, and yet, by some strange occurrence that neither would ever be able to understand, their breathing came in the same rhythm. Their hearts beat at the same time, their muscles twitched in the exact same moment that their eyes clenched tightly in sleep.
The two sleeping figures, both alike in blood and heritage, for some unknown reason, dreamed the same dream.
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Laughter echoed in the large cavern. The laugh threw chills down Emory's spine though she didn't know why. Little did she know, though, that Jack saw the same cave, heard the same laughter.
They were both standing in the same cavern although neither one could see the other. Before both of their eyes, a figure began to appear in front of them, the laughter booming louder in their ears. As soon as Emory's eyes fell on the full figure of the man, his scars and black eyes, she fell to her knees, a banshee scream drowning out the laughter. Her hand clutched her chest-Pain. Death. Anger. Life. Rebirth.-a stabbing, burning ache coursing through her.
Jack, on the other hand, bore a different experience entirely. The moment the man materialized, the moment his face became clear, Jack's eyes widened in shock, and then narrowed in fury. He knew this man.
"You will not run from me!" the man yelled, his voice sending more stabbing pains through Emory's body, although her eyes could never leave the man in front of her.
Emory began to fall back, her vision going black, at the same time that Jack lunged forward, his eyes blazing with unspoken rage.
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The two figures jolted awake at the same exact moment in time, their breathing labored. The woman's hand flew up to her neck, her fingers clenching around the gold ring that hung on the simple chain that rested on her hot skin. The man, however, clutched at his head, biting back the scream of anger that threatened to tear from his throat.
Jack and Emory both stared sightlessly around their darkened cabins, only one word, one name, filtering out through numb lips.
"Skinner."
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AN: Yay to another chapter! Woohoo! I'm so proud. I hope you all enjoyed. And, I have decided that the next thing I will post is the one-shot that I let you all know about. It's going to be a filler chapter basically, seeing as I have a long chapter to write ahead of me that I have like three different key parts to write. And I can't post the chapter until I have them completely written, so it may take me awhile.
Oh, yeah, and were you shocked?
Dawnie-7: Yeah, you really do need to give him credit. He'll just keep trying no matter what she does to him.
Evil Duckie of the BlackLagoon: I hope you liked what was in the box. Those are some key parts for the main plot. It's going to be very interesting to say the least . . .
The DuTchess of Doom: I have to say I enjoy reading your reviews every time. And you could never clog up too much review space; it's always a pleasure to read what you have to say! I'm glad that you liked the part with Tyler; I figured I needed to tie up their story a little. I hope you enjoyed this chapter as well!
Arein: Boy, you just keep asking questions that I can't answer. Every time. That answer, too, shall be answered in time. I promise. : P
Kantgetdizgrl: I'm glad you like Tristan still. And, I picture it the same way. I don't remember who I had decided he looked like, but I remember he was cute. And, unfortunately, I can't say if he turns evil or not, that would just give away way too much!
Blossomlite: Yay, a new reader! I love to get new readers. I'm glad you like it so far, and I hope I continue to like it!
Obsetress: I wouldn't say that she's afraid of Tristan; it's more along the lines of that she just doesn't trust him. After all, he did try to kill her without giving a reason as to why. There will be more information given on his past and who he really is. Hope you continue to read!