Disclaimer: Don't own Fable.

Author's Memo: Okay, this chapter basically wraps up the escapade in Keiko and we'll be moving on in the next chapter, and as much as I hate to include a spoiler, I feel inclined to warn you that there is a character death in this chapter. (Part of why the chapter title includes the word "redrum" :).) And that's all I'm going to say about that. Thank you so much for the reviews, of course. I hope you enjoy this chapter. I am hoping I didn't take it too far, but then again, at this point, several moral event-horizons have been crossed and the concept of "too far" has become blurred.

Warning: Character death and mild adult content.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Spiced Red Rum

In less than an hour Sparrow had bypassed the outskirts of Keiko and vanished into the dense foliage that grew in abundance for miles along the coast beyond the city. She wasted little time, dodging between trees and deftly avoiding roots that threatened to trip her as she ran with unnatural speed along what was little more than a deer path. While it was unlikely she could have been followed, she took the time to double back, only pressing ahead on her intended path once she was certain she was alone.

Finally, the very cliffs she had been observing from the harbor loomed over her, and she could see the great port town sprawled out below her across the water. She took a brief moment to catch her breath while she determined the best path up the cliffs. She had found no way around that would take her to the very top; her only option was a frontal assault. The trees crowding the ledge was perched on were just tall enough to reach the next ledge, so she hoisted herself onto the lowest branch and began to climb.

It was an easy matter to leap from the highest branch and land on the slim outcropping, but after that it was a steep climb to reach the very top. The trees grew still closer together and she used their sturdy branches to pull herself upward when her feet could not find a place to hold her. When at last the ground evened out, Sparrow was able to look down to the ocean on the other side, and she felt a conflicting mix of elation and exasperation. There was no mistaking it; the Rose was anchored just on the far side, hidden from view of the harbor. Shaking her head, she began the treacherous descent down the sea cliff. When she was level with the mainmast, she called out to her crew.

"Ahoy there!"

One of the crew, a young sailor known as Taylor Baldwin, nearly fell from his perch on the highest gaff, and he clung for dear life as he looked around wildly for whomever had hailed him. He was not the only one; many of the crew were looking around in bewilderment, and Sparrow called out again, waving a hand in greeting until one of her men spotted her.

"It's the Captain!" shouted one of the men. "Fetch Sheriff Sedgewick!"

"He's already here," said a low, authoritative voice. He was looking up the side of the sea cliff where Sparrow was crouched, perched on the edge of a cliff on holding on by the low-hanging branch of a tree. Sparrow couldn't resist smiling down at his aged, weathered face. He appeared so in-control that her own worries suddenly felt small and manageable.

"Gresham, you foolish man. I thought I ordered you back to Bloodstone!" she called out over the wind and waves.

"Aye, Captain," Sedgewick called back, looking distinctly unrepentant. "And when I finally do see you safely home, I'll be more than happy to take ten lashes in the town square to atone for my insubordination."

Sparrow shook her head again. "Requesting permission to come aboard, sir!"

Without waiting for a reply, Sparrow lunged from her perch and easily cleared the water separating them; she landed nimbly on her feet amidst her crew, many of whom were staring at her as though they had never seen her properly before. It was then that Sparrow remembered her peculiar clothes and windblown hair, which she began to smooth self-consciously. Her headstrong Sheriff smiled at her through his mustache. Standing tall and dignified, he gave her a sharp salute, and almost as one, the crew followed suit. "It's a relief to see you alive and well, Captain."

Sparrow returned the salute. "At ease. And I have not been ill-treated," she assured him. "Quite the contrary."

"And Daniels?" Gresham asked, and for the first time there was a touch of concern in his voice.

"Perfectly well," Sparrow said. "For all his hatred of pirates, he works well among them." She paused and glanced around, aware of everyone listening to them. "Perhaps I could fill you in on everything in my cabin. There is much to tell."

Sedgewick nodded and allowed her to precede him. A path opened among the crew and Sparrow greeted several that she passed as she made her way through.

When she and Sedgewick were alone and seated comfortably in her outer cabin, she began to fill him in on the important points of what had happened since her capture, though she left out her entanglement with the Pirate himself and focused on being brief and moving on to the journey she was preparing to undertake the very next day. When Sedgewick finally wheedled out of her just where she and the Pirate were going, he turned a shade paler and began to voice one protest after another.

"Yes, I know it's dangerous," Sparrow said in mock-exasperation. "I've weathered plenty of danger in my life, Mister Sedgewick, and will likely see much more before I'm finished."

"There is a saying that he who swims too often will drown," Sedgewick pointed out officiously. "If you insist on this folly, I must accompany you."

"No," she said flatly. "You are not putting your life on the line for this hunt, and neither is Jack. You can forget it."

Sedgewick blinked. "...Jack?"

Sparrow looked at him in confusion for only a second, then quickly looked away. Sedgewick noticed a slight tinge of pink on her cheeks and found himself quickly looking away and returning to the matter at hand.

"There is safety in numbers," he went on, "and Daniels and myself are both able warriors. It is our duty to protect you."

"This is not official business," Sparrow countered. "Your duty is to follow my command, ergo you should not even be here to argue the matter."

"We were halfway home when I realized we were making a huge mistake, leaving two of our own behind," he said. "Thus I am here to argue the matter –"

"Yes, and you will still leave," Sparrow cut him off shortly. "And you will take my equally-wayward Commander with you. No," she said when he would have spoken. "Listen to me. This is an order. Tomorrow when the crew depart the Reaver II to join Reaver and myself, I will have Jack go with them. You will meet with him at the end of the docks and you will both leave for Bloodstone."

Sedgewick faced her with a hard expression, but Sparrow did not give. "Need I remind you that you are an officer under my command, Sheriff?"

Sedgewick visibly stiffened, his posture abnormally straight.

"I thought not," she said, before he could answer. "When I return to the city, I will inform Jack of the plan. I am counting on you to see to it that he follows orders."

"Yes, ma'am," Sedgewick said reluctantly. He stood to leave then, but before he closed the door behind him, he stopped and looked back at her. "You do realize, of course, that the best solution is for you to leave too. There isn't a man aboard this vessel who won't fight in your name."

And Sparrow was left alone. For a moment all she was aware of was his words replaying in her mind. Leave... with them? It was possible. The Rose was her flagship and far more seaworthy than that unfortunate passenger ship. She sat in silence as she was overwhelmed with images of home... of her coastal paradise. A place filled with her people, where she had her own life. Bloodstone had come so far, and under her guidance it would thrive and prosper still further. She could return to her own home, her own bed, her own life... a life without Reaver. Back in her own territory, she would have the resources to keep the Pirate at a comfortable distance.

Sparrow jumped edgily to her feet, desperate to escape these thoughts, and walked through the door that lead to her own personal cabin. It was so different from the Pirate's. Her bed was narrow and neatly kept with crisp, white linens. The walls were lined with charts and maps, and books were strapped into their shelves along one wall. A desk occupied one corner, and a tall wardrobe kept another. She opened its latched doors and took in the sight of her own clothes. They were elegant and simple, but there was nothing as bright or luxurious as what she was wearing at that very moment. She touched the dark fabrics; this resembled what she was. Durable. Practical. Nothing flashy and self-indulgent, like the Pirate. They were so different... yet so much the same. If she were honest, she would simply tell Sedgewick that she wanted to go on this adventure. But she couldn't tell them. The lust for danger and adventure bonded her to the Pirate, and as such some small, selfish part of her did not want to share it with anyone else.

Determinedly, she closed the wardrobe and left her cabin. This might very well be her last real adventure. Reckless though it was, there could be no question of her seeing it through.

"You have that look about you."

Sedgewick was waiting for her when she emerged from the outer cabin, and his shrewd eyes had immediately read her intentions.

"What look?" she asked.

"The one that tells me you're set on your path."

Sparrow nodded. "I am. Please, do not worry about my safety. You and Daniels are two of the few people left who remember what and who I really am. You know what I am capable of. I will be home in under two months, then life will return to normal."

Sedgewick was reluctant as he nodded in agreement. "I will be on the docks tomorrow at first light as ordered."

"Thank you," Sparrow said. "I must return now. There is still much to do before the day it out."

The path leading back to town somehow seemed longer and more dangerous in the fading afternoon light. When she finally set foot on even ground again, she set out through the forest at a full sprint, until the foliage around her was no more than a blur.

The town was just within her sight when she felt a prickle of unease, but a moment later something collided with her shins, and before she knew what was happening she was rolling and tumbling over the uneven forest floor. When she came to a halt, she grappled for her senses and pulled her head up in time to see figures emerging from the shadows of the trees. She could barely make them out in the dim light, but she could see that each of them had a weapon drawn. Her hand immediately reached for her pistol, but she had barely moved when she felt something pierce the side of her neck. Alarmed, her hand went immediately to her throat and jerked out she sharp needle. She looked down at it, her vision already fading in and out. She was so tired it was almost tempting to give in, but the danger surrounding her gave her a determined edge, and even as she swayed on the spot, she fought to hold on to consciousness. She tried to stagger to her feet, but as she pushed herself up, she was roughly shoved to the ground.

There was nothing for it. As everything started to go black, she sought desperately to gather whatever Will remained inside her. In her most vulnerable moment, it answered like an old friend and ally. She released the energy into the air, and several screams pierced the encroaching night. Sparrow could scarcely see as she leaned back against the trunk of a tree for strength, but she could hear a set of footsteps approaching. They moved slowly and cautiously; clearly the remaining one thought she was fading away, and she held herself completely still, struggling for breath until she felt him standing over her. As he bent down she released the remainder of her Will and heard the unmistakable sound of a blade sinking through flesh. The man did not cry out in pain, but fell to the ground with a quiet flump.

For several minutes Sparrow could not move from the tree that was holding her up, but after a while her vision began to return, then her strength, as her Hero blood fought off the poison's effects. When she could finally see, the first thing to greet her was the vision off a masked face lying between her feet. Embedded in the throat was an enchanted blade. Disgusted, she kicked the corpse away, and with shaking legs she struggled to her feet.

Sparrow looked around and counted a total of eight bodies. All wore identical black clothes with hoods and masks concealing their features. Each carried an identical pair of short, sleek swords; one worn at the hip, and another between the shoulder-blades. This was hardly a gang of thugs; these men were a trained mercenary unity. And no mercenary would hunt her down in such a manner without compensation. Someone had paid these men to come after her, likely to capture her, as the poisoned dart had clearly not been intended to kill her. Whoever had sent these men after her had intended that she be kept docile and alive. Just as clearly, they had underestimated her. The one who had sent these did not know what she truly was.

But where had they been meant to take her, exactly? Or to whom?

Sparrow did not linger any longer to ponder her questions. Already the hour grew late, and she was severely weakened from lack of sleep and the poison's effects. The Pirate might even now be considering where she'd got to.

Upon returning to the Shi house, the infamous Pirate King decided to wait out Sparrow's mysterious disappearance by amusing himself at his host's expense. After ordering a serving girl to bring him only the finest selection of alcohol available, he settled himself in the Prince's study and waited patiently as he slowly savored his way through each bottle.

Karasu did not disappoint him. It seemed only minutes had passed when his beauteous friend joined him.

"It appears this visit will end just like your last," the Prince commented mildly as he sat down across from the Pirate.

"How's that?" Reaver asked, taking in Karasu's mesmerizing beauty with his eyes.

"I'll have to clean up the mess you leave behind and spend the year restocking my wine and rum."

"And sake," the Pirate added. "But if that's how it must be, you should at least join me." He passed a bottle to Karasu. "Better to enjoy it while you have it, as I always say."

Karasu produced a small crystal cup from his desk and poured from the bottle before drinking. Meanwhile, his cold, haunting eyes observed the Pirate. He was drinking heartily straight from the bottle, as expected, but he did not appear overly concerned with his company or his surroundings. Something else had his attention, and Karasu had hardly any doubt what it was.

"Might I ask what has the King of Pirates drinking in a state of distraction?" he asked cordially. Reaver shrugged but did not answer. "Are you looking forward to leaving us so soon?"

Reaver smiled at this. "I do not look forward to leaving so much as moving ahead."

"Moving... ahead." The Prince watched his companion for a moment, then smiled pleasantly. "So it is not your destination... it is a life change you are pursuing."

The Pirate scowled, but Karasu could see him turning the words over in his mind. He refilled his cup and drank from it while he waited patiently, until finally the Pirate spoke again.

"Perhaps... perhaps life is changing in spite of me."

"And yet you do nothing to resist."

Reaver shook his head in denial. "At one time. But I have found no escape. Perhaps time will provide me with one."

"And if it does not?" asked the Prince. The Pirate dismissed the question with a shrug of his shoulders. Karasu watched him with concealed surprise, analyzing this lack of concern with deceivingly placid eyes. "Perhaps you are right. It is only natural to encounter change on the path of life. But sometimes the change is not to move forward at all, but to allow life to settle. I gather you've been wandering since you left your home behind."

Reaver shrugged indifferently again, but he covertly wondered where his friend was going with this dangerous train of thought. Men like himself and Karasu did not like to have their past explored or exposed, and right now his friend was treading foolishly close to a forbidden abyss.

"Why not consider it?" the Prince asked, pouring himself another drink as he continued to watch the Pirate.

"What's to consider?"

"Staying in one place," Karasu mused. "Some might call it 'settling down'. You have said often how you enjoy my city."

"It has its merit," the Pirate conceded. "But what do I have that holds me here?" The only thing that might hold him to one place had currently left him to his own devices while she ran off on her own; even if her pull was strong enough to keep him settled in one place, he would inevitably try to lure her away on some exotic escapade.

"You could have much holding you here," the Prince murmured softly. His pale eyes held the Pirate's Shadowed ones as he spoke in soft, seductive tones. "You could have a title, privilege, a wife... and still enjoy the vices you so love to indulge."

The Pirate stared at his friend. "A title and privilege are all well and good, but I don't think a wife is to my tastes. None of my previous brides lasted long. That whole 'til death do you part' thing always comes sooner rather than later."

"Things can change," Karasu repeated calmly. "And my sister is not so foolish a woman to stand in the way of a dangerous man."

"Koneko..." The Pirate spared a moment to think of his former lover. She was one of the few women he had ever known with a fire to mach his own, and if asked, before he had become so wrapped up in Sparrow, he might very well have agreed to take her as a bride. As it was, however... "Tempting offer though it is, I'm afraid I must decline."

Karasu poured himself another cup and took a measured drink. Then, "I was under the impression you were very taken with my dear sister."

"She is a captivating creature," the Pirate conceded. "But she is not made for me. Give her to a man who will give her everything she desires."

"Word has it that what she desires... is only you." The Prince watched the effect these words had on the Pirate. His friend seemed unconcerned by them, and Karasu pressed on. "Perhaps you no longer desire her. Is it that another creature has captivated you?"

The Pirate's thought immediately turned back to his fire-and-gold haired temptress. Even now her image danced before him like a siren; she was made from sunshine and flames, and she consumed him, but there was pleasure in the burning. Though she might reduce a man to little more than cinders and ash, there was something in her emerald eyes that made a man think it a fair price to pay. In his case, the Pirate knew it was too late. His Sparrow held him utterly enthralled, as the Prince had already perceived.

"Yes," the Pirate murmured quietly, and both were stunned by the ease of his admission. "Only by the most flighty of creatures."

"A sparrow," the Prince said, a demure smile now lingering about his perfect lips as he too envisioned her. "A bird that is not meant for a cage, no matter how comfortable and glittery."

The Pirate finished off the bottle in his hand before selecting another. "I'm afraid you may be right."

"And yet," Karasu mused, "is it that a cage is your only means of keeping her by your side?"

Reaver glared at the beautiful man sitting across from him, who seemed completely at ease as he drank the red liquid from his crystal cup. "What is your meaning?"

"Only that the moment you open that cage, she will spread her wings and fly away."

"I would pursue her," the Pirate decreed, "but she will not fly away."

"You're so certain of this," the Prince said; it was more of a comment than a question. "When hunted, a small sparrow will fly places the predator cannot follow."

"There is nowhere I cannot or will not follow. Sparrow is mine." His words came out so sharply that they took even him by surprise. For a full minute, all he could do was stare at the wine bottle in his hand, but his thoughts were no longer on drinking. The silence only grew heavier, and soon Reaver found himself feeling wearier than he had in some time. Perhaps he would rest until supper. He got to his feet and bowed courteously to his host before taking his leave. The Prince watched him go, his lips curved in a cryptic smile.

"We shall see, Pirate... we shall see."

The Pirate felt like he had barely dozed off when he opened his eyes again, but several hours must have passed for the sun was almost completely set. The first sensation he became aware of was the softness and warmth of a woman's body snuggled tightly against his own, and his heart skipped several beats when he looked down and caught a glimpse of red-and-gold ringlets spilled across the breadth of his chest. Sparrow's head lay securely in the hollow of his shoulder, and he could feel her soft breath caressing his throat. Impulsively, his arm tightened around her and he held her closer, content for the moment to simply bask in her warmth.

Sparrow had returned to him. Of course he had not doubted that she would, but that fact did nothing to dampen his pleasure at the realization. She had come to his bed and lain by his side while he slept, without any influence on his part. Of its own accord, his hand came up to touch her skin, but the moment he felt her he knew something wasn't right. Her normally smooth, soft skin was cold and clammy, and when he gently eased away to look down at her face he saw that she was pale and wan. With steady fingers, he pushed her hair back from her face and throat, and his keen eyes were immediately drawn to a small, red blotch that marred her skin. It was just below her ear, and a small bump was barely discernible at the very center of the mark.

As his fingers brushed the edge of the red blotch, Sparrow's eyes fluttered open and sought his. All movement ceased as his thoughts scattered. For a small moment, she was the entire focus of his being, and only then did he realize how vital it was to him that she had returned to his side. But then... what of next time? Perhaps Karasu was right. Sparrow was not meant for a cage, no matter how he liked to amuse himself with the idea, but how else could he keep her tied to him?

The Pirate directed his gaze back to her throat, lest she see his thoughts in his eyes, and after another moment he asked, "What happened?"

He heard her sigh and she lazily stretched beside him, her body brushing sensually along his. "Nothing happened, really. A group of men thought they could subdue and capture me by means of a poisoned dart, but they underestimated me and paid the price."

Reaver felt his body react to hers, but her casually-spoken words brought a frown to his sensual lips. "You were assaulted by a band of thugs?"

Sparrow shook her head. "I don't think they were common thugs. They gave the impression of a trained unit, not that I was able to gather much information. I was hardly aware of anything once they'd poisoned me, and by the time it had worn off enough that I could see, they were all dead."

The Pirate couldn't resist a pride-filled smirk. "I reckon they wouldn't have fared any better even if they had known what they were going up against."

Sparrow grinned bashfully. "They were likely a mercenary unit," she went on. "The way they dressed, all the same with hoods and masks, attacking by ambush and stealth – makes me think of an assassin's guild. But they obviously weren't trying to kill me, or that dart would have been loaded with something lethal."

She was only musing aloud, but she was not oblivious to the way the Pirate's eyes hardened as she described her attackers.

"You know who sent them, don't you?" she asked quietly.

"Don't worry about it," he said, his voice unusually gruff. "I'll take care of it."

Sparrow smiled in spite of his tone. "I don't know where you've been, Pirate, but it seems you haven't noticed that I'm not exactly the type who just lets someone else take care of my problems."

He caressed her lips lightly with his own. "I though I told you to call me only by my name?" he teased gently.

"You can't distract me, Pirate," she protested softly, but already her fingers were tangling in his hair to pull his mouth closer. He kissed her again, just enough to tease her, then bit her lip sharply in warning. Finally, his name escaped her, and the Thief took her lips again, kissing her deeply as their bodies instinctively drew closer, their limbs intertwined. When he pulled away he looked down at her with his inclement gaze.

"I said I would take care of it. Trust me in this."

Trust. Only a fool would trust the Pirate King, but he made it sound like such a simple request. As easy as fitting her lips to his, as sharing the same breath.

"Just this once," she whispered, praying she was not making a mistake. Trusting him once could lead to trusting him again. She must not let such reckless behavior become common practice.

Reaver and Sparrow arrived in the dining hall together, and several minutes late. Every eye followed their progress as they joined their hosts at the high table. Belatedly, it occurred to Sparrow that everyone would know exactly why they were late, and she shot the Pirate a covert glare. He clearly felt no remorse, if the cocky smirk that answered her was any indication, so she maintained her most dignified composure as she crossed the hall with him. When she would have taken her place next to Karasu, the Pirate smoothly cut her off and guided her to the ivory cushion beside Koneko. Sparrow gave him a brief, uncertain look, but the Pirate nodded imperceptibly, so she took her seat gracefully, if a little hesitantly. The exotic Princess clearly wasn't any more pleased with the arrangement than herself; when Sparrow extended a formal greeting, she could clearly see the muscles tightening around her pouty lips, though her face remained as serene as ever.

Sparrow found she couldn't concentrate well on the dinner conversation. Reaver was by far the opposite. He carried on jovially with the Prince and made certain the wine flowed freely. The nightly dinner gradually took on the air of a celebration, and Sparrow had barely touched the final dish before the Pirate was pulling her to her feet to dance.

"What's gotten into you tonight?" she asked as they fell in step with the first tune. The Pirate held her closer than was decent, and thwarted all attempts on her part to put distance between them. "Is this for your mistress's benefit, or the Prince's?"

"Mistress?" he asked, giving her a cocky smile. "I have only one mistress, though she denies her place as my Queen."

Sparrow ignored the jibe. "If you're trying to distract me, save yourself the effort," she said. "Why the fuss over the seating arrangements? Do you prefer the company of a certain enthralling man tonight?"

The Pirate looked sternly down at her. "You do not need to find him enthralling."

Sparrow laughed lightly as he lead her into a spin. When she landed softly against his chest, he held her close until his lips were just above her ear. "It is for both their sakes. Before the night is through, I intend to reveal one or the other as my quarry."

After the next spin, Sparrow glanced up at him quizzically, but the glint in his eyes warned her to ask no further questions. So instead, she followed his lead, playing the flirtatious coquette while Reaver monopolized her through dance after dance. Anyone watching might have thought them far-gone with wine and completely absorbed in one another, but Sparrow could sense his mind was still sharp as ever.

"Our host comes to take you away," the Pirate murmured in her ear. They had stopped to catch their breath between ballads, and Sparrow resisted the urge to glance around at the Prince.

"And will you deny him?" Sparrow asked.

"No, I think I'll let him have his way for now," he replied. "Just don't get too friendly with him. I would hate to cause a scene in front of all these lovely ladies."

Sparrow gave him a look that was both amused and exasperated, but before she could say anything, Karasu had joined them, and when he asked to cut in, the Pirate passed Sparrow to him with a courtly manner, and she was lead away by the beautiful Prince. His silver-blue eyes watched her with their peculiar warmth; it was strange to see when his eyes were often so cold and empty.

"So, you will be leaving us tomorrow," the Prince said, his voice low and soft.

"Yes, we will, at first light," she said. "Will you miss your friend? I understand Reaver does not make it here often, and now he's leaving again after only a few short days."

"It is the Pirate King's way," Karasu said calmly. "He'll never be the kind of man to settle in one place for long."

Sparrow nodded. "I'm certain he'll be back. After we conclude our business, he'll be free to go wherever he desires."

"And you?" he asked with curiosity. "Will you too be free?"

"Well, yes, I'll be returning home," Sparrow replied. "But one is never free from one's duties."

Karasu smiled. "Duty is a concept beyond the Pirate's grasp, as I'm certain you're aware."

Instantly, Sparrow felt something drop in the region of her stomach. "I know... he's what my house-lady would refer to as a 'free spirit'."

"An apt description, as I have never met one so free as the Pirate," the Prince agreed. "It is a freedom not meant for mortals. He can not bring himself to bear the weight of duty, or confine himself to one place. He will forever reach for that distant horizon, and only realize too late that it is just an illusion." Those peculiar eyes seemed to glimmer as he spoke, and Sparrow found herself being drawn in closer by his hypnotic beauty. "It must be a lonely existence."

Sparrow briefly touched the tip of her tongue to her dry lips. "Lonely?"

"Indeed," the Prince said, holding her closer as they moved together. "While the Pirate King chases his horizon, the rest of us are tied to our respective lives. To our duties. To those who rely on us. The Pirate comes into our lives and all too soon he leaves us behind. Any woman or man brave enough to love him must eventually face losing their heart when he takes to the sea again. But he too must continue on, alone."

The very heart he spoke of gave an unpleasant tremor inside Sparrow's chest, and her eyes dropped away from the Prince's ethereal beauty of their own accord, no longer able to see it.

"I believe you are right, Karasu," she murmured, "but do not assume it is the woman being left behind."

The last notes of the song warbled in the air, and Sparrow took her leave before the Prince could say anything further.

Immediately, the Pirate was there to take her into his arms, and he found himself pleased, if surprised, when she embraced him completely. They moved together with ease as he held her securely.

"Had I realized you would miss me so much, I would have allowed him the first dance."

Sparrow lifted her head and gave him a wicked smile. "It would be foolish to tell you much I need you right now, and as I am not a fool, instead I'll suggest we bail early on the dancing."

The Pirate watched her with silent amusement, but with intense interest, then said, "And if I agree, what do you have in mind?"

"We'll quietly slip out the door and spend some time alone before we rendezvous with our crew at dawn."

His smile turned lascivious and he obligingly lead them closer to the entryway where they slipped into the shadows. A maid passed them in the hallway, and the Pirate spoke words to her that Sparrow did not understand, though she was certain she caught mention of the word 'rum'. The maid left in the opposite direction from them, and Reaver lead Sparrow to the room they were originally intended to share together.

When the Thief did not follow her inside, Sparrow looked back at him in question.

"Wait here for me," he said quietly. "If the maid arrived with the bottles, don't touch any of them, understand? I will not be long."

She was visibly confused, but the Pirate was pleased when she nodded her agreement. He did not wait any longer, but closed the door and set off back the way they had come. His instincts were superb, and he sensed a predator close by. He could only hope his tactics would lure them into taking further action. Compounded by a failed abduction attempt and the loss of a team of mercenaries, his own shameless behavior might have goaded his enemy into recklessness, if his guess was right.

As he reached the doorway of the storeroom, he heard two distinct, feminine voices talking quietly on the other side. Impatient to confront his quarry, the Thief did not stop to listen, but made his entrance, weapon already drawn.

His face was hard and cold, as though made from stone, and his former mistress froze at the sight of him, her dark eyes wide and her face bloodless. When the maid looked over her shoulder and spotted him, she gave a small squeak and dropped the large crystal decanter in her hand. It shattered on impact, and deep red rum washed over the wood floor, staining the surface.

"I knew if it was you that you would try something brash," he said coldly. "Your brother is far more subtle, and not so easy to entrap." He jerked his head at the maid and said one word in her language: "Flee."

When the maid had vanished through the door, the Pirate's attention turned to the tiny crystal vial in the Princess's hand. "Poison?" In a flash, the Shadows within him burned, their darkness and power consuming him in an inferno of violence and rage. "A cowardly and ultimately foolish attempt at destroying what is mine." He began to walk toward her, the dark turmoil pushing him onward, and the Princess backed away defiantly, and with no small amount of fear surfacing in her eyes.

"You are the fool if you think my dear brother didn't give the order for her to be taken alive," she hissed angrily, despite her fear. "I would have ordered them to kill her outright and be done with it, but my brother would have her for himself, and wouldn't hear of it."

In a flash, his fingers were wrapped firmly, though not tightly, around her delicate throat. The Pirate holstered his pistol and wrenched the bottle away from her clutching hands, then pulled out the stopper with his teeth. He took a brief whiff of the liquid within.

"Essence of Aiokani flower," he murmured. "The flower symbolizing the Shi clan. Perhaps I should be flattered that you would choose such an exotic poison to kill us both with."

"Not you!" Koneko gasped. "Never you! I made sure the antidote was prepared perfectly and added with your food. You would not have died, I swear it!"

"I'm honored," he said scathingly.

"Who is she to you that you care so much about her?" Koneko demanded hotly. "You, the clever, heartless, pitiless Pirate King, a legend with the blood of countless men and women on your hands, are now willing to set me aside for – for that other woman? Willing to protect her?" The Princess scoffed. "I don't believe it! Let me do this for you," she pleaded with her wide, dark eyes. "Let me free you from her and we can be together again. Or give her to my brother and we can leave this place." Her hand came up to touch his cheek. "We can go anywhere together."

The Thief did not speak for several moments; his eyes only grew more Shadowed and desolate, and staring into them was like staring into a grave. When he finally spoke, his voice was so quiet, so empty and devoid of emotion, they very air surrounding them seemed to recoil from the sound.

"You need to know only one thing," he said. "Neither you, nor your brother, not even death, will take her from me. It is the only certainty I know in all this insanity. Though many may try, be they man, woman, or god, I will eliminate them."

And before she could register the dark meaning of his words, before she could so much as cry out for help, he had forced the neck of the vial into her mouth and poured the contents down her throat. Sheer terror seized her, and she kicked out, struggled, clawed at his hand with her fingernails, but her strength was no match for his as he forced the lethal substance into her body. His other hand worked the muscles in her throat, forcing her to swallow every drop, and only then did he release her, dropping her to the floor. She coughed and spluttered as the crystal vial rolled away into a corner. The poison was fast-acting, and in seconds she was fighting for breath, her body shaking and sweating profusely.

"Karasu," she gasped piteously.

The Pirate turned away from her as though brushing aside a bit of rubbish; the Prince stood serenely in the doorway, his eyes not on his dying sister, but locked with the Thief's cold gaze.

"I did try to warn her not to behave so rashly," he said placidly.

"Indeed," the Pirate said. "She became so brazen she even had a few things to say about you."

The Prince smiled coyly and played several fingers through his long hair. "Oh, really? Something about me hiring a group of gentlemen to bring your Sparrow to me in secret, I presume?"

"Something like that."

Karasu's beautiful face remained as serene as ever. "It is possible, though only a very honest and very foolish man would confess to such a deed."

"Why are you here, then? Revenge for your sister?"

"She tried to destroy what I too desire," he said. "She brought fate upon herself. No, I came to wish you luck on your journey. You will be departing early, and I have had much to drink this night."

The Pirate nodded dismissively and left the storeroom, stopping only to grab several decanters from a shelf and carry them with him.

The walk seemed to take only seconds; it was as though time no longer held any meaning. He was drawn irrevocably toward Sparrow, but the closer he got, the heavier each step became. He would return to her, with the touch of death clinging to him. He had not taken a life since taking her aboard his ship, and while he felt no remorse, he found himself unsettled over what her reaction would be.

I'm pleading for you not to kill. The words she'd spoken to save that traitor's life, what seemed like a lifetime ago, echoed in his mind again. He'd given in to her then, despite his pain and rage. Would she condemn him now?

The moment he slid the door open their eyes locked, and the Thief saw her smile dissolve into concern.

"Did something happen?" she asked, getting to her feet.

The Pirate did not answer as he slid the door shut behind him, but by the time he had set the decanters down on the bedside table, she was becoming visibly anxious.

Reaver attempted a smile. "Nothing, love. I encountered Karasu on my way back and we had a brief exchange of words."

"Karasu?" she asked. "Was he –"

"Shh," he soothed, cutting her off. "There will be no more mercenaries coming for you, I am certain of that."

Sparrow did not look completely reassured, but the Pirate did not elaborate further. Instead, he reached for her, and felt a measure of peace when she walked into the circle of his arms. He held her close, his fingers threaded through her hair as he spend several long minutes reveling in the taste and scent of her skin; with his hands and lips he rejoiced in the simple fact that she was warm and alive. He had felt the cold of death innumerable times, and the image of her lifeless and unmoving rattled him.

"You are my woman, Sparrow," he murmured close to her ear. "Nothing will harm you. I won't allow it." It was a promise. A vow.

For the next several hours, he made a sensual exploration of her, even bathing her in rum and drinking it from her quivering body. She was every bit as thorough in return, and his control nearly dissolved when she took his throbbing shaft into her soft, burning mouth. She was loving him with the same abandon he felt for her, the same eagerness. Even as he lifted her legs to wrap around his waist, she was impatient in her need to have him inside her. He gratefully relinquished control and gave himself over to the age-old ritual as wholly as she.

Hours later, with only a few hours until dawn, she fell asleep in his arms, completely drained and content. The Thief did not sleep. The dawn would come soon and they would depart. For now, he would watch over her.