Disclaimer: I don't own Fable.
Author's Memo: I'm so happy. I gained some new readers, and I'm thrilled each of you are enjoying this story so much. I actually went back this time and reread my story. As I did, I noticed some glaring errors even in chapter one. So instead, I decided to export all my chapters and edit them while I read through them. This lead to me actually editing some parts of the story. Nothing major, plot wise, but I do think it all flows so much better now. The point of all this rambling is for me to say if you really like to read, and really like to read this story, I would recommend going back to the beginning and reading it again. Of course, right before I post the final chapter, I am going to edit it AGAIN just to make sure everything is how I want it. So if you are inclined to read it again, but don't want to do it twice, just wait until I'm completely finished, then enjoy Sparrow and Reaver all over again while I collect my thoughts and start writing the sequel.
Of course, thank you everyone for reading and reviewing. I've finally worked out exactly how the ending is going to go, so now its just a matter of writing it... and you reading it. Speaking of, I'll let you get to that.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Descent
It was not until a full hour after sunrise that their group finally floated down the river away from Asaka Kagoyo. Sparrow had managed to hire three fishermen to take them on the three-day journey down the river and through the winding canyon that separated them from the untamed rain forest far to the southeast. It was the fastest way, and the safest, though that wasn't saying much; the fishermen had immediately warned her, through Reaver, that flash floods could come down the canyon at any time, putting all of them in great danger. Worst case would be at night, while they were sleeping on whatever dry land they could find. Sparrow noted these concerns and pressed on regardless, then assisted the men in coaxing the two small ponies, one chestnut and one gray, onto two of the wide log rafts, where they were sedated with herbs that would keep them docile for the journey. Once the supplies and the men were loaded, Sparrow looked about for Reaver, but he was nowhere to be found. Exasperated, she resorted to asking his first mate where he'd got off to.
Bretton smiled, showing off his golden good-looks before informing her the captain had gone into the village to hire a guide.
When Sparrow finally found him, she realized with dismay that she was too late, for he had already found his quarry.
The Pirate had his gun drawn, and kneeling at his feet were two men who were obviously pleading for their lives. She was shocked to see that one was an elderly man with white hair, and the other, a man of perhaps forty, was ostensibly his son; he kept his father behind him as he tried to reason with the Pirate King, though the old man was stubbornly trying to keep his son out of the fray.
"What do you think you're doing?" she gasped, horrified.
"Don't worry, pet, this isn't at all what it looks like," Reaver said cheerfully, an amused smile twisting his lips.
"It looks like you're holding two men at gun-point," Sparrow said.
"Oh – well, I guess I'll have to retract that statement," he said. "It's exactly what it looks like. Oh, but don't you worry, my love, I'm not going to actually shoot them... they just don't know it."
"I thought you went to hire a guide?" Sparrow asked, exasperated now.
"I did, but the old man started complaining about how dangerous the forbidden rain forests are, and his son jumped in, babbling something about his daddy being told old to go back there, so I thought I'd try to be a bit more convincing," Reaver explained succinctly.
Sparrow sighed. "Put that away. I'm sure we can negotiate without resorting to violence."
The Pirate shrugged and holstered his weapon. "Go on and try if you think they'll listen to you."
Sparrow looked down at the father and son, who looked gratefully relieved, and offered to help the old man to his feet. With his son's help, they got him up, and Sparrow took a moment to glance around the hut and then back at them.
"Does his son know the area we'll be going to, by any chance?" she asked.
Reaver translated her question, and the younger man shook his head.
Sparrow glanced around again, then spotted a suit of strange armor, including a horned helmet, and a sword on display in a corner of the small hut. "Is he a skilled warrior, perhaps?"
When the younger man answered affirmatively, Sparrow gave him a stern, officious look, one she would wear when addressing the greenest among her crew.
"Tell him that he may come with us, solely to protect his father, and that we will make their protection our priority. This is his only option, and I will only make the offer once. If he refuses, you may deal with the matter your way, and the old man will be coming with us regardless."
The Pirate looked pleasantly surprised. "How very ruthless of you. Maybe there really is a Pirate Queen deep down beneath that veneer of goodwill."
"I've learned a thing or two about ruthlessness since boarding your ship," Sparrow said dryly. "Just don't actually kill anyone," she amended quickly. "A bloodbath isn't going to get us anywhere."
Reaver grinned and relayed her message. After a moment's deliberation between father and son, they both nodded grimly.
"Splendid!" Reaver exclaimed. "You do underestimate yourself, my love."
"Perhaps, but I'm still no pirate," Sparrow reiterated.
"Aye, but you have true potential."
Sparrow did not know if she liked that comment or not, but all the same she was happy when they finally disembarked and began their journey.
No one spoke much once they'd entered the narrow canyon. The fishermen concentrated on the river; the guide and his son maintained a stony silence; Reaver laid back languidly on the raft, having removed his shirt around midday, and basked in the sunshine while the great blazing sun was directly overhead. Sparrow remained lost in her own thoughts through much of the day. She sat on the edge of the raft with her feet dangling in the water, and watched the strange rock formations that passed them by.
For the first several hours, she was overcome by nostalgia. This was not her first ride on a log raft such as this. What felt like lifetimes ago, she had taken a very similar journey on a very different river, when she was still a small child and had taken for granted that Rose would always be there to keep her safe. When she closed her eyes, she could almost hear her sister's voice on the light breeze, telling her they'd get to Bowerstone soon and they would have a new life there, not to be afraid...
"What are you thinking?" came a soft voice from beside her.
Sparrow's eyes snapped open, and she saw Reaver beside her, watching her curiously.
"Nothing important," she said dismissively, but the Pirate did not look convinced. "I was thinking about the first time took a trip down river on a raft. It was the first time we had ever left our home, my sister and I."
"You were by yourselves," the Thief said shrewdly.
Sparrow nodded. "Our parents were dead, though I had no idea for a long time... she told me we would find them there, in Bowerstone. Or they would find us."
"She hid it from you?"
Sparrow nodded again, and looked down at the water. "I guess she was only trying to protect me. She was dead before I could find it in my heart to forgive her."
They said nothing more, but Sparrow was simply relieved that he had listened without asking for painful details. He made no cruel comments, no judgements, nor did he offer her pity. He was simply there, always arrogant and completely confident of his place in the world. They were so much alike, and so different... so well suited for each other... if only...
Sparrow halted that thought, not quite allowing herself to dream of what could be.
At night they made camp on a narrow strip of land at the side of the river; the great, rocky walls of the canyon stood hundreds of feet high now, painted in wide stripes of coral, pink, white, and gold, and only a small strip of starry sky was visible above them. Most of the men were on edge over the closed in space. Should the river flood, they would be trapped, and any man too slow to reach the raft could easily be swept away and drowned. Even Sparrow had a hard time sleeping, and always kept one ear out for every sound that echoed off the high canyon walls.
By the end of the second day, Sparrow noticed the current of the river, once gentle and lulling, was now gaining in speed and strength. Through Reaver, she consulted their guide, the old man who now identified himself as Mister Misagi.
"The old coot says there is a waterfall some miles down the stream, but we will reach the other side of this canyon well before hand and carry on over land."
And true to his word, just before high noon the next day, they canyon walls ended, opening up to the sky and revealing to them a world unlike any of them had ever seen. They stood high atop a plateau, and barely half a mile downstream the land dropped away into a wide valley that stretched on as far as the eye could see. Far off on the distant horizon, obscured by low-hanging clouds, was what looked like a lone mountain standing in the midst of a sea of trees.
Misagi started to speak, gesturing at the lone mountain.
"He says that is our destination, according to the map," Reaver said. "We must follow the river south-eastward, and something about deadly fauna and some 'Rodents of Unusual Size'... et cetera.."
Sparrow nodded at the old man, then directed the crew to start loading the ponies with their gear. After a quick conversation with the fishermen, they agreed to return for them in a couple of weeks, and once again two weeks later. And then the rafts headed back up the river the way they had come, and their group was making their way into the unfamiliar rain forest.
Though she had never seen anyplace like it, Sparrow had always thought the interior of these legendary forests would be much quieter. They hugged the river closely, not taking the unnecessary risk of straying, but the noise from the canopy that rose from the canopy in the valley bellow was near deafening, and more than a little frightening. Sparrow's senses were heightened by the adrenaline pulsing in her veins; she could make out the high-pitched cries of birds calling out warning of intruders, she could hear the lower grunts of mammals, and then the shrill shrieking of something she wasn't particularly sure she wanted to identify.
Sparrow sidled closer to Reaver and whispered, "Have you ever seen the like of it?"
The Pirate shook his head. "Not in all my considerable travels. I've heard rumors of course. Keep your eyes out for something that looks like a small man, but is covered his hair, has enormous teeth, and walks on all fours."
"Tell me you're joking," Sparrow said.
"That is what I was told," Reaver said, then grinned twistedly. "If we manage to catch one, I imagine it would sell for a fair sum."
"Unless it is particularly vicious and proves too dangerous to capture alive," Sparrow replied grimly.
"A few men might lose a few fingers, or limbs, but the gold will be sure to balance out any losses," he said pleasantly.
Sparrow gave him a look of mock exasperation. "How reliably cut-throat of you."
The Pirate remained completely unrepentant. "We are pirates, aren't we?" he said. When she didn't respond, he added, "I'll split the profits with you."
Sparrow was about to huff and walk away, but before she could make another sound, a shrill, unearthly roar echoed off the canopy, and as one, the group fell completely silent and still, as though too frightened to even breathe.
"What was that?" Blodwyn finally murmured in a terrified whisper.
Immediately, Mister Misagi answered, needing no translation, and when he'd finished, everyone looked from him to Reaver, the only one who appeared supremely unconcerned.
"Something about some great, scaley beastie of legend," the Pirate said in a dismissive tone. "And we're not getting any closer to the treasure by standing around here like a bunch of frightened ninnies." And he continued on. When the others still did not move, he called back, "Don't be afraid, whatever beastie might be unfortunate to find us will soon wish it hadn't."
The rest had no choice but to follow.
In less than half an hour they had reached the waterfall. It fell straight down for over one-hundred feet and crashed against what looked like jagged rocks jutting out from the frothy white water.
Sparrow crouched low on the ledge of the cliff that overlooked the lush valley below. The rock was mostly sheer all the way down, but when the old guide joined her, he pointed out a steep path that wove its way down the cliff-face.
"I don't like it," she told Reaver in a low voice. "It'll be a miracle if we manage to get everyone, including the animals, down that path without anyone falling to their death."
The Pirate did not seem to share her concerns. "Bretton had muscle enough to manage them."
Sparrow sighed. "Fine. I'll lead one, he'll lead the other. Misagi can lead the men."
The procession was slow, and more than one man was forced to scramble for their footing on the brittle path. Sparrow split them into teams, and Reaver, Misagi, his son, Hirohotu, and two of Reaver's crew went down first. She and the remaining crew watched their every move as they slowly descended – with the exception of Reaver, who nearly scaled straight down the cliff as he easily took the most direct routes – and once they'd passed the halfway point, she sent Gresham and Jack, to whom she entrusted the safety of young Blodwyn. Jack lagged behind, offering his help to Sparrow with the gray pony, but she sent him on his way. Sparrow watched them descend with anxiety clearly written on her face, but Sedgewick remained spry for an old man, and Blodwyn had the reflexes of youth to rely on; all made it to the bottom without mishap.
Now Bretton, holding the reign of the chestnut, and Sparrow were the only ones remaining to make the climb. She looked at him anxiously, but was reassured by the sheer size of the golden-toned giant. He looked like he could carry the beast over his shoulders if it came to that, so she waved for him to go on ahead of her and waited anxiously while he lead the creature down the path.
Sparrow waited until he was halfway down, then gently patted the gray and stroked its soft muzzle.
"Come on, girl," she murmured soothingly. The pony's ears twitched at the sound of her voice, and Sparrow slid her hand calmly over its muzzle while she gathered her wits. "It's our turn now."
Gently, she urged the animal forward, and together they took their first cautious steps down the narrow path. The gray followed her willingly, occasionally quivering nervously, but Sparrow soothed her has as she would have her dog, and the gray remained docile despite its fear.
By the time Sparrow and Bretton had safely lead their charges to the solid ground where the others waited for them, the sun was sinking in the sky. The whole process had taken most of the afternoon, and they would need to find someplace to take shelter before dusk.
After tossing the reigns into Blodwyn's hands, Sparrow found herself face to face with Reaver, who was smiling avidly at her. "I'm relieved you made the climb unharmed, love."
Sparrow smirked. "I noticed you didn't make any offer to help."
"Of course, but if I stayed, who would be down here to catch you if you fell?" he asked innocently.
Sparrow was about to reply, but then realized as the Hero of Skill, he could easily have caught her out of the air. Blushing at the image that created, she looked away and went to bring the company to order. It was nearing darkness, and it might take hours to find shelter.
As she swept her eyes over the men, she frowned, sensing one was missing, and when she glanced over them again, more slowly, her eyes sought Sedgewick's in alarm. "Where's Jack?"
Gresham cleared his throat delicately and answered in low tones. "It seems his captain has sent him off to scout for shelter."
"Alone?" Sparrow hissed. "Which way did he go?"
Gresham pointed south along the ridge they had just climbed down.
"Why was he sent off alone?" Sparrow asked sharply, slinging off her pack and tossing it to him. She drew her gun. "Never mind, someone can explain this incompetence when I find him alive."
She turned to head off in the direction Gresham had indicated, but before she could take a step, she found herself face to face with Reaver.
"Darling, why not rest and catch your breath –"
Sparrow cut him off. "I'm not ready to hear what you have to say for yourself," she all but growled at him. "But if this is apart of some brilliant plan to get him killed –"
"Such accusations, my sweet," Reaver purred. "He is an able warrior, is he not? He assured me he could handle the task by himself."
"Let me assure you," Sparrow said furiously as she brushed past him, "that if he does not leave this accursed place alive, neither will you."
She did not need to see the look he gave her; it was enough that she felt the darkness rise within him, as though she were in tune with it. She could feel it reach for her, but she continued to walk away without a backward glance.
Inside the canopy, the trees were dense and it became difficult to see clearly in any direction. There was, however, a clear set of footprints sunk deep into the damp earth, walking away in the very direction Sedgewick had indicated. Sparrow followed them quickly, gliding quietly between the trees and the sharp edges of the cliff-face, but ten minutes later she still had not caught up with him. Her heart was pounding with anxiety, but she resisted the foolish urge to call out.
The footprints remained steady and solid, meaning he was traveling light and maintained roughly the same pace. She couldn't have passed him by – the tracks never strayed. Almost desperately she picked up her pace... if anything happened...
Suddenly, Sparrow burst through some tall shrubbery and collided with something hard.
Jack Daniels felt something crash into him, but saw nothing but a blur of red and green before he was knocked back several steps. When he regained his balance, he saw Sparrow standing before him with a look of anxiety marring her face.
"Jack!" she said, giving him a quick but thorough glance to ensure he was not harmed. Jack noted she was visibly relieved. "I've been looking for you. I thought something could have" – she cut herself off, and in a split second, her relief vanished and very real anger replaced it. She pinned Jack with a fierce glare. "What exactly possessed you to go scouting alone in such a hostile place?" she hissed.
Jack made an attempt at looking contrite, but the corners of his lips still twitched occasionally. "Time was of the essence, I could cover more ground by meself –"
"Don't give me that, and wipe that smirk off your face," she snapped, her temper escalating. "I don't know if you've noticed, but we're not exactly in Wraithmarsh anymore. No one is to go wandering off alone for any reason –"
Jack looked abashed, but Sparrow couldn't quite miss that look of satisfaction.
"What has you so pleased with yourself?" she grumbled.
"Yeh're right, o'course, and can only offer me apologies. But yeh needn't 'ave worried about me, Sparrow... though it makes me happy yeh did."
Sparrow fell silent for a moment, then she collected herself. "Of course I was worried. I didn't want you here to begin with. For this reason. Anything could happen out here." She looked around as though to emphasize her point. "And if anything happened to you..." She let her words trail off then cleared her throat. "Don't go taking off alone again, no matter what. Even if your captain orders you to. I already promised him he wouldn't leave this place alive if you didn't, and he'll be a lethal enemy if I decide to keep that promise."
Jack laughed at that; the sound echoed off the trees around them. Sparrow couldn't resist smiling in response.
"So, you were sent out to find shelter, I was told. Do you have anything to show for it?" she asked.
Sparrow saw him open his mouth to answer, but at that moment, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, and she pivoted on the spot, bringing her Nightwatch up in one motion. A blur of something massive and vicious was coming at her so fast the most she managed was to bring her elbow up to protect herself. The force of the impact knocked her to the ground, but thankfully the creature rolled off her. She desperately tried to assemble her wits as she scrambled to her feet, knowing her attacker would be back for more.
She got to her knees, then looked up and got a full view of the animal. It was roughly the same size as her dog had been, but looked absolutely nothing like a dog. It was mostly hairless, and covered in bulging, padded muscles that rippled beneath its dark, scaly skin. A long, rodent-like muzzle held rows of jagged teeth, and saliva hung from its snarling lips in thick, quivering ropes. The animal was already gathering itself for another charge; Sparrow was ready. As it lunged toward her, its clawed feet kicking up dirt as it charged her, Sparrow aimed and squeezed off one shot. The discharge of the high-powered pistol sent ribbons of pain shooting up and down her arm, and she watched as the ball of lead swerved slightly off course and embedded itself in the animal's leg, nearly tearing it off at such close range. It fell to the ground, crying out in rage and anguish, but when Sparrow would have ended its suffering, she found her fingers would not respond to her commands.
"Finish it," she said to Jack, then turned away and clutched her hand to her chest. Behind her, she heard the deafening report of a rifle, then complete silence. Even the animals of the forest seemed to have gone ominously quiet.
Sparrow took several steadying breaths, then glance down at her arm and saw immediately that the unfortunate animal had left its mark. The upper sleeve of her shirt was shredded, and the forest-green material was already soaked deep red with blood. Gently placing her fingertips over the spot a few inches above her elbow, she counted three deep, wide gashes arcing around the back of her arm.
"Capt'n?"
She heard the concern in his voice without even looking at him. Sparrow put on a brave face and turned about. "It's just a flesh wound," she said reassuringly. "It'll have to wait until we set up camp."
"Let me 'ave a look," Jack said severely. "I can field dress it. Should help keep infection out until we can stitch it up."
Sparrow wanted to refuse out of sheer pride, but common sense told her he was right. This place was warm and damp, and she knew from experience such conditions would help even a minor wound fester.
"Fine, but lets be quick," Sparrow said, already unbuckling her tan leather vest. "And stay alert, there could always be more." Even as she said it, she switched her pistol to her left hand and seated herself on a rocky perch, her back to the cliff and with a clear view of the trees surrounding them.
Jack did indeed work quickly, but remained as gentle as possible as he first helped her pull her arm out of its blood-soaked sleeve. Guilt churned in his gut as he caught sight of the angry wounds she had sustained. Three long, ugly scratches marred her sun-kissed skin, and blood flowed freely down to her fingertips.
"These'll definitely need stitches," he affirmed softly, but all he could do for the moment was wrap it securely to hinder the bleeding and keep out dirt. They had no bandages on hand, so Sparrow sacrificed the other sleeve of her ruined shirt, tearing it off at the shoulder, then shredding it into several long strips. He disinfected the wound and the bandages with liquor from his flask, and his large hands were almost reverent as he bound the wound quietly and efficiently. Sparrow tensed in pain as the alchohol made contact with her fresh wound, but did her best not to utter a sound.
"I feel like a selfish bastard," he admitted softly. "If I had been thinkin' sense when I left the camp, yeh wouldna be injured now."
Sparrow grinned feebly over her shoulder. "Don't make such a fuss over it. It's already bad enough, having my tail shaved out here on day one."
Jack returned her smile only half-heartedly. He knew her pride wasn't the only thing hurting, so he finished up his task quickly. "If I'm honest with meself, I wanted to know if yeh'd come fer me."
He saw her back stiffen and placed one hand over her bare shoulder. "I wanted him to know yeh would," he clarified. "It was selfish and petty, and I'm sorry this happened cause of me."
Sparrow relaxed, was silent for a moment, then chuckled. "I think there's a lot of selfishness and petty behavior going around." Then she glanced at him over her shoulder. "Don't feel like you have to justify it, and don't blame this" – she jerked her injured arm – "on yourself either. The beast could have been stalking me. It was my responsibility to pay attention to my surroundings." He did not look any happier, and she softened her tone. "You're a good man, Jack. Of course I'd come after you."
Jack stood abruptly, and Sparrow instinctively brought up her pistol. She lowered it immediately when she saw Gresham emerge from the foliage, gradually followed by the rest of their company moments later.
"We heard gunfire," Gresham said immediately.
"We bagged dinner," Jack replied evenly, walking over to the freshly killed animal a few feet away. "And I found shelter just a way onward. Doesna look like anything had lived in there fer a year or more."
"That's – goodness, Sparrow, what happened?"
Sparrow winced as he drew attetion to her arm. "Nothing you won't be able to fix up once we've made camp," she said calmly, but her eyes locked with the Pirate's as she spoke, and Sparrow was instantly reminded of the words she'd hurled at him as she raced after Jack. His guarded eyes traveled first over her face, then down her bare shoulder to the strips of cloth covered in dark stains, and the blood drying down her arm.
Coming to her, Reaver offered her his hand. She hesitated a moment before accepting, and then she was being pulled deftly to her feet. The Pirate stood too close, and she was forced to land against his chest. He wrapped his other hand gently around her injured arm and softly murmured, "Are you hurt very badly?"
Sparrow was aware that the crew were already following Jack to shelter, so she waited until they were just out of earshot, then looked up into his eyes. They were dark; closed and guarded against her. Her last words to him at the river had been angry and heartless, but still Sparrow would not recant them. Somebody had to stand up to this Pirate... it was just more difficult when he held her like this...
"It's only a few scratches," she replied. "Sheriff Sedgewick has had extensive training in basic healing. He'll have me stitched up and good as new."
Reaver's hand hovered over the wound. "You should not have taken off so recklessly."
"You must have known I would go after him," Sparrow said coolly. When he did not reply, she added, "You just though I would be too late."
"There was a chance," Reaver conceded, but barely.
Sparrow shook her head ruefully. "I will yield much to you, but when it comes to my men, my home, my people, I will risk more than a few scratches to keep them safe. Do not do something like this again."
"Would you risk the same to keep me from harm?" he asked suddenly.
Sparrow was stunned by the question. "I wasn't aware of anything that could harm you."
The Pirate chuckled indulgently before he could stop himself, and a tiny bit of the guard dropped from his eyes. "If something existed that could, would you do everything you could to keep me safe?" he asked seriously.
Sparrow did not answer immediately. Would she protect him? According to the very same laws she vowed to uphold, this man deserved to be hung many times over for his crimes. Could she protect a monster purely because of her own personal feelings? Would she even be able to pass judgement on him, if she had to?
"Your life, it is important to me," she admitted, almost shamefaced over the confession. "You're a liar, a scoundrel, and a murderer... a monster. But knowing you're alive and warm makes me happy. I don't know how I could stand by and let you suffer, or let your life end." Sparrow shook her head, knowing she'd said too much. "But what does it matter. Who could hurt you, immortal King of Pirates?" she asked with an attempt at a smile.
He looked earnestly into her eyes and whispered, "You could."
Sparrow's heart seemed to stop. She fell silent and gave him a thorough look; he seemed thoughtful and sincere, but it was almost too absurd to believe he'd actually spoken the words. This man, more than a man really, seemed unyielding – invincible. Even when Jack had named her as Reaver's one weakness, she'd never been able to truly believe it. "How?"
The Pirate did not even flinch away from the question. He brought up his hand to take hers. "When you finally accept that you too love me, you'll know the answer."
Once they had rejoined with the crew, Sparrow wanted to help set up camp, but Reaver immediately dragged her away from the other men and had her sit. He then walked away without a word, but came back moments later with a trauma kit and a bottle of Yellow Fairy.
Sparrow gulped.
"Gresham will care for my wounds, if you don't mind," she said, trying to sound stern.
"I do mind, it is my place to care for you," he replied complacently, seating himself comfortably behind her where he could access the injury. "In the end, it is my fault," he admitted, but in such a tone it implied he was giving her a treat after she had misbehaved. She glared at him as he unwrapped the cloth wrapped around the injury, and the Pirate felt a tightening in his chest when he saw the angry red cuts. He barely understood his reasoning, but the sight of her flesh mauled this way filled him with a cold rage that he could barely hide beneath the surface. He, who had both seen and caused injury much more gruesome than this...
He thoroughly cleaned the gashes, then poured Yellow Fairy directly onto the wound to disinfect it. Sparrow's whole body arched in pain, and a cacophony of rather crude expletives echoed off the cavern walls.
"Darling, I do believe your salty language has some of the crew blushing," he commented dryly.
Sparrow immediately cut the string of curses that was pouring gratuitously from her lips. "You could have warned me to brace myself," she gasped, her face as white as a sheet.
"Perhaps I will encourage you to think twice about running off into the trees and getting mauled by some ugly beastie," he said coldly, but then he offered Sparrow the bottle. "Drink some of this," he ordered gently. "It'll take the edge off."
At first, Sparrow tried to refuse, but as he began to stitch the seams of her skin back together, she took several tentative drinks until it felt slightly less like the sawing of a dull blade. Reaver made tiny, careful stitches, more precise than any surgeon she'd ever employed, and she glanced as best she could at his handwork. "I'm impressed."
"Try not to sound so surprised," he said with a small chuckle as he put the needle away.
Sparrow smiled a little sheepishly. "I mean it. Really." When he didn't look convinced, she added playfully, "So what's the secret? Done a lot of embroidery in your life?"
Reaver suddenly went still, then looked at her strangely, as though weighing some decision in his mind. After a moment, he suddenly looked away, and said as though it were of no importance, "My father was a tailor."
Sparrow didn't speak, surprised by this sudden piece of his past, but the longer she couldn't say anything, the more he looked like he regretted admitting it; Sparrow did her best to smile. "That explains one thing, at least."
Reaver could see her smile from the corner of his eye, and risked taking the bait. "What's that?"
"Why you're such a connoisseur of fashion," Sparrow said, as though it were the obvious. "I've never met a man with so many clothes. Do you make them yourself?"
"Absolutely not," Reaver denied, mildly affronted at the idea. "I simply made the designs, and hired however many seamstresses and tailors it took to make them right."
Sparrow shook her head, but was pleased to see his good humor restored.
Once he had bound her arm up again, she helped the men finish setting up camp, as well as equipping defensible positions within the cavern. They had canvas for tents in the event that no shelter could be found, but in here they used them to create small partitions for privacy, and while hygiene was not a common concern among pirates, some among the crew did take a chance to bathe with some water that had been brought from the river and boiled. While the hot water was relaxing, and it did make a definite improvement on the general smell of the group at large, more than one pirate continued about their duties more than half-naked in a vain attempt to dry in the damp air. Sparrow tactfully kept her eyes downcast while she prepared the animal she and Jack had killed for their dinner.
That night, she slept peacefully beside the Pirate, who had refused the very notion of her taking watch that night on account of her injury.
"It's just a scratch," she protested heatedly, embarrassed to be coddled in front of both his men and hers. "It'll be completely healed before the sun sets tomorrow."
"And it will heal all the faster if you rest tonight," Reaver said officiously, and when he called upon Sedgewick's expertise on the healing arts to back his claim, the Sheriff did so with the air of a man enjoying the havoc.
"You're not even a real doctor!" Sparrow snapped, but she knew she was beaten for the moment.
As Reaver and Sparrow lay down to sleep long after dark, they both did away with most of their clothing; even the night was damp and hot, and they kept a few inches between them and their weapons close, with only their hands touching as they closed their eyes and listened to the night creatures that came to life in the forest as the moon rose. The sound was strangely comforting, and lulled them into a half-sleep, where thoughts tend to run wild and unchecked. They both thought of his confession that she could hurt him. They both considered the possibility that, if the opportunity arose, she would protect him in spite of her beliefs and responsibilities. They both thought of Jack, sleeping only feet away, and he also thought of them, laying only a heartbeat apart from each other. He even allowed himself to envision a time when he might finally be with his love in the same way.
It was with gratitude that they each descended into sleep and their own private dreams.
Author's Note: BTW, geekybeeks recommended the song Surrender by Evanescence as a song for this fic. I absolutley agree. Please listen to it if you're so inclined.
