Thank you Stutley Constable, SirenoftheStorm, MsAurora, Cabbage_Merchant and KissofDeathJE for reviewing!

This is the fifth draft of this chapter. It gave me quite a bit of trouble, so I hope it looks fine.

Special thanks to Stutley Constable. You're words got this one done the way it should have been done and the way I wanted it to be done.

Cabbage_Merchant: I apologize for not giving you a review reply the last time. For this one: You dislike him that much? Don't be so sure about that rescue... you never know what can happen! Thanks for the review, it's much appreciated. You'll just have to wait and see.

Threads

"Are you cold?"

"A little."

"Have this." Dorian places a blue crocheted blanket in my unsteady hands and I grudgingly but gratefully take it and unfold it. He smiles at my acceptance of his offering.

"How long will this go on for?" I ask directly, tired of these seemingly generous and kindly actions Dorian makes towards me only to snap them back later.

"I won't have to give you any more drugs," he smiles cheerily. "We are three weeks away from Tortuga and four from where we are going. I have decided it should be safe enough to leave you be. That is... if you don't disagree."

"No more." I shake my head quickly. I can't even begin to think of going back to that place in my head.

Dorian straightens from where he has been crouching at the arm of my chair for the last five minutes.

"Elizabeth, there are some matters I will have to discuss with you soon..." he turns his back to me and faces his desk. I turn my head the slightest fraction to the right to watch him.

"I'm done sharing any information with you," I say to his back. A black coat stretches over the broad surface of shoulder blades and muscle and I wish I could look at his face instead of this emotionless shape. It's unreadable.

"Then perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement."

"I want my own questions answered," I jump in.

"Depending on what they are, it sounds reasonable," he says and I can hear him leafing through papers.

"You have something to hide?" I ask, knowing that he does but wondering if he'll admit it.

"Doesn't every man or woman on this Earth?"

This is going to be harder than I thought.

"True enough. Answer to your best abilities then," I say sarcastically. I don't know how much I'm going to get out of him. "First off, why did you pick me?"

"There are things in this world that you wouldn't understand Elizabeth. Some of these things including justice and good people," he replies slowly, evenly, without much thought. He remains sorting through his papers with his back to me.

"There are no good people here," I say glaring at his dark, shiny hair.

"I have brought you with me to help you," he says and sets down his sheet of paper before shuffling back around to face me.

I shake my head. It's not a very comfortable feeling after the constant headaches I've been getting. "No, you brought me here for your own benefits. What I'm failing to see is what those may be."

"I want that fairness Lizzie. I want to bring it to everyone who deserves it. I want to give you what you deserve, what those women outside deserve. I want to make things better," he explains smoothly. His smile reappears, making his face more familiar.

"The act of poisoning me fails to convince me of that," I say, raising an eyebrow automatically.

"It's that trust I once mentioned. It's something not very many people truly have. They think they have it. Oh by whatever force that makes us blind they think they have it. But it isn't trust unless you trust them to trust you as well. And so my dear, I am trusting you not to trust me. I see it right now in your lovely face."

"I'm... confused..."

"So this thing called trust, we take it, we twist it. We bend it until it turns into something else but we never change the name. They say love is a form of trust. No, you can love indefinitely but never trust that person. You can be loved eternally but never win their trust. They say business is a form of trust. Never. You can trust or you can't. It's not fair though. True trust rarely comes around. When you can look at the other and know that they trust you too, that is real."

He tilts his head and seems to study my face for several moments before turning to one of three chairs and sinking into it.

"Do you trust Jack to be there for you?" he asks suddenly.

"Yes... no, not really." I narrow my eyes at him. Why must he always catch me off guard like this?

"You're right. He isn't here, is he? But can you trust him to act carelessly towards you the way he does everyone else?"

"I suppose, but—"

"It's not entirely about him though. Can you trust?" Dorian has a deep intelligence in his eyes that makes me try harder to understand what he means. His gaze is almost forcing me to.

"Trust what?"

"Anything. Everything. Yourself."

"I can trust," I say, nodding my head uncertainly.

"And that's part of the problem. You trust too easy."

"Yes, that's how I ended up on this ship. That's the reason I'm here having this conversation with you. Ironic, no?" I ask, suddenly angry with him.

"You can trust me," he says with a bright smile.

I shake my head again and laugh. "No, I can't."

"But you'll learn to. And then this will all make sense. Now I believe you have more questions."

I run my hand through my hair, trying to bring my mind back around to what we had been discussing before all this.

"So... why me?" I repeat the question.

He just smiles.

"I've already told you."

I sort through those many words, trying to unmask what's hidden underneath them. Trust, justice and good people? Things that I can't even touch.

"I was curious about the girl you have here. Marissa I think you called her."

His eyes become softer, his smile less of a grin but still a smile none the less. "She's here because she has nowhere else to be."

"That was her girl. Emily's daughter," I say hesitantly. The look on his face is so strange to me.

"Yes. Emily's daughter."

"Dorian, where is she?" I ask gently now. I want to get an answer for her. I've realized anger doesn't work.

"Oh, probably playing dice with the crew. She's quite good at it you know."

What? "No, Emily. Where is she?"

The smile drops off his face.

"It's not something I often talk about."

"You can trust me with it."

"No I cannot. As I said, trust takes two. And you have yet to trust me," he says sharply. "Now, it's my turn."

The cabin is colder today and I curl my feet up onto the chair under the blanket. I'm prepared for however long this may take. I still have more questions and I know that if I ever want them answered in the future I will have to cooperate right now.

"Where we're going, the men are good. They'll listen to whatever you have to say. You'll matter. But it might not be where we're staying. I want you to feel welcome there. But don't get too attached, in case we do leave. They will treat you well, that I know. The wives are gentle and caring to everyone I bring in. But for your sake and mine do not bring up anything to do with Jack, your husband or Emily. Do what they ask and do not question it. They are good people. They are right. But they are dangerous."

"Who are they?" I ask tiredly. I'm glad to have gotten this much from him, but there is so much he leaves open with each new answer.

"And that. Never ask them who they are."

I pause, biting my cheek. "I can do that."

I run my hand through my hair a second time.

"I know you can," he grins.

"I have just one more question."

"What be that?" His careful smile tells me he doesn't want to tell me anything big right now.

"Why is my hair clean?"

"Uh... yes. That. It may have been washed for you."

"By who?" I narrow my eyes suspiciously.

For any of you who remember, I said Jack would show up in this chapter. I lied unintentionally. I'm writing this the way I have to in order to make the plot advance in the right direction. Sorry Cabbage_Merchant, I know you were missing him.

I think chapters will be shorter but more frequently posted in the future. It seems easier to work this way.

Thanks for reading, please tell me what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome.