Summary: Jack's little known past catches up with him in the form of a brother. Ch. 8- In which Will does something rash and Jack is taken to Parliament
Disclaimer: Pirates of the Caribbean and all the characters therein do not belong to me. Believe me, if I owned Johnny Depp in eyeliner . . . . Gah. That man is hot.
A/N: Thank you very much to everyone who reviewed, it keeps me writing.
Captain Red Black- Sorry, there's going to be another cliffy in this one ::hides:: don't shoot me!
DarkAngel- yeah, I like a bit of j/w at times myself, but I like writing j/w friendship and this isn't going to be a slash.
Starlight8 and purplestainedglass- I'm glad you guys think Jack's in character. He's so much fun to write, though he can be difficult at times.
FireSenshi3- Why thank you J
"He has gone too far!" Robert snarled, pacing up and down in front of his father and Will. "It is one thing to work against each other in Parliament, but it is an entirely different thing to resort to trickery and kidnapping!"
"Calm down, Robert," his father said placatingly. "We'll alert the police and they can deal with York."
"Oh, come now, Father," Robert said in exasperation. "Do you really think York will admit to the kidnapping, let alone release Jack to them? We have to find Jack ourselves."
"No," his father said sternly. "Nothing will be accomplished by rash action. York will be here in three days for the convening of Parliament. I know where he stays. Whatever he is planning on doing with Jack he will most likely implement while Parliament is in session. We can have the police search his house then for Jack and question the servants for any information they might have. York doesn't know that we are aware he has Jack, so he won't be particularly careful with his actions in that regard and we might be able to catch him at something."
Calmed somewhat by the reasonable words of his father, Robert ceased his pacing and leaned against the wall, staring hard at the older man. "Do you really think that will work?"
"It is the best plan we have for now," his father said.
Will, who had been keenly following the exchange, burst out heatedly, "But what about Jack's safety? York might kill him, might already have killed him!"
Robert shook his head. "No, there would be no point to that. Having a Lancaster in his possession will be powerful tool for York and he will use Jack, though I'm not sure for what. He'll need Jack alive."
"So are we agreed on this plan, then?" the elder Lancaster asked, and Will and Robert nodded.
Will, though, had no intention of waiting so long. Any number of things could happen to Jack between now and then, and Will was not going to abandon his friend. It was already the second day since Jack's kidnapping, and the blacksmith was impatient with the amount of time that had elapsed. Evening was falling already, though, and Will knew it would be foolhardy to start his journey in the dark. He would have to wait to begin until tomorrow. Sighing in frustration, he went to his room, making sure he had his saddlebags prepared for the next day, before sitting on his bed and looking dejectedly at the empty bed next to him. He hoped nothing had happened to his friend. He would never forgive Jack if the pirate got himself killed. Although, Will thought, Jack would probably come back as a ghost just so he could haunt me for the rest of my life. Smiling a little at that, Will toyed with Jack's ring that he kept in his pocket, running his finger over the etching. The repetitive motion of this was oddly soothing, and soon he found himself drowsily lying back on the bed, eyelids closing as sleep claimed him.
"Jack is right," Will muttered in irritation as the horse tried to bite him for the fourth time, "you really are a devil."
Will had crept furtively to the stables early that morning, quickly saddled his horse, and was off before either Robert or his father had awakened. Everyone knew where the York estate was located, so it wasn't that hard for Will to get directions. By the early afternoon he was well out of London and enjoying the tranquil scenery. The lush green fields and fresh air were a welcome change from the noisy, dirty city. Unfortunately, though, Will had taken the same horse that Jack had complained about earlier and was finding that the animal was as much of an annoyance as the pirate had said. Despite that, however, the blacksmith had made good progress and was confident he could make it to the York estate within two days or less.
His horse was currently trying to bite his fingers as he untied its bridle from the tree branch and it ended up taking him about ten minutes to finish the job after which time he seriously considered just leaving the horse and going the rest of the way on foot. It would certainly be easier, but not practical, so, grumbling, Will remounted the horse and continued on his way.
It was sheer luck that, an hour later, Will stopped at the Crossroads Inn to get a quick bite to eat. He barely afforded any notice to the coach that was stopped by the roadside as he dismounted from his horse and prepared to tie it up outside, but the sounds that were emanating from the vehicle stopped him in his tracks.
"We're scoundrels and rascals and really bad eggs, drink up me hearties, yo ho, yo ho!"
"Jack!" Will breathed in amazement, forgetting his horse and rushing hurriedly towards the coach.
The cold voice that was heard a second later, though, informed him that Jack was not alone, and he slowed his progress to an unconcerned walk.
"Be quiet!" the voice hissed menacingly. "Or I will silence you myself!"
Will could hear the smirk in Jack's voice. "Oh, I'm sure you'd just love to, but y'know York will shoot you if you damage the goods."
The man's reply was lost in the burst of noise that emanated from the inn as the door opened and another man came out. Brushing quickly past Will as if the young blacksmith were invisible, he made for the coach and paused to speak for a moment to the coach driver. Seemingly satisfied with the driver's answer, he got into the vehicle and the coach started forward at a rapid clip. Thinking quickly, Will scrambled back onto his horse and followed after the coach, keeping his distance so as not to seem as if he were following them. Two short stops later, they were back in London, and Will had to ruefully admit that he should have stayed in London in the first place instead of gallivanting about the countryside. Oh well, at least he had discovered Jack's whereabouts. Now all he had to do was find out where Jack was being taken and then rescue him as soon as possible.
Staying behind the coach long enough to note the residence Jack was roughly propelled into, he made his way back to the inn where Robert and his father were staying. After leaving his horse with the stable boy, he took the stairs two at a time to Robert's room, eager to share his news. When Robert caught sight of the young blacksmith, his face showed relief before transforming into a scowl.
"Where have you been?" he demanded. "I thought something had happened to you as well!"
"I'm sorry," Will said, too excited to be properly ashamed, "but I've discovered where they've taken Jack!"
Robert had opened his mouth to issue another reprimand, but at this news his face grew hopeful and he gripped Will's arm.
"You have? Are you sure? Where is he?" Robert asked anxiously.
Will gave an abbreviated version of his adventure, discreetly leaving out the part where he had been planning on riding to the York estate and single-handedly rescuing Jack.
"My God, this is perfect!" Robert said triumphantly. "The police will catch York red-handed."
"But won't they arrest Jack as well?" Will wanted to know. "After all, he is a known pirate."
"Most likely," Robert said, unconcerned, "but Father will have him cleared of charges and then York will go to trial for assaulting and kidnapping a Lancaster." His eyes narrowed fiercely. "I swear I will break York's influence once and for all."
Will waited impatiently for Robert's return, pacing agitatedly up and down in his room, the candlelight casting flickering shadows on the walls. He had wanted to go with the police when they searched York's house that evening, but the officer in charge had forbidden it, saying only Robert and his father were allowed. 'No commoners,' the officer's tone seemed to imply, and Will bristled angrily, voicing his opinion that his exclusion was monumentally stupid since he was the one who had seen the house. But the officer had been adamant, so Will stayed behind and had to be content with giving a detailed description of the house to Robert. The young blacksmith actually half-expected Jack himself to show up before Robert, having pulled off one of his miraculous escapes. Two hours later, though, Robert showed up, no Jack in tow and looking despondent.
"Jack wasn't there," he informed Will. "We searched the house from top to bottom. Are you sure you gave us the right information?"
"Of course," Will said in annoyance. "I'm very observant when it comes to objects. I have to be in order to notice even the tiniest flaw in my work."
"You are right, of course," Robert said wearily. "I apologize. It was just very frustrating to have not found Jack. They must have moved him somewhere else. York, it seems, is taking no chances."
"What are we going to do now?" Will asked
Robert shed his coat and sank bonelessly into a chair. "Nothing for now. Parliament convenes tomorrow, and I expect York will make his move then. We can only wait and see what he will do."
That didn't sit well with Will at all. He felt worse than useless, and the inaction made him want to explode. Irritably pushing back a curl that had strayed from its tie, he glared impotently at the wall, as if it were somehow responsible for the entire mess.
"I assume Parliament convenes in the morning," he stated, without looking at Robert.
"Yes, and goes until the evening."
Will grunted in aggravation. That meant he wouldn't hear anything until late tomorrow after he had come back from the smithy. He knew without asking that there was no possibility of him sitting in on the Parliament session. After all, he was a "commoner". Wishing there was someone around he could punch, he settled for ill-temperedly kicking his satchel into the wall.
Robert was watching him with weary amusement. "I know how you feel, but these are the circumstances and we must accept them."
"I know," Will sighed, "I'm just not used to such a feeling of futility."
Robert laughed. "Ah yes, the fire and idealism of the young. Let me tell you, William, as you become older you will learn that there are many things in life that are outside your control or power to change. It may not seem fair, but that is how the world works."
"Well the world can bloody well go and hang itself," Will retorted, folding his arms across his chest.
"I think you have been around my brother for too long," Robert observed. "That seems to always have been his philosophy on life."
"Well maybe he's onto something," Will muttered, flopping onto his bed. "Sometimes Jack makes more sense than other people who are supposed to be sane."
Jack awakened groggily from unconsciousness, opening his eyes blearily to survey his surroundings. He was propped up against a wall in a bare room, its windows darkened by the curtains pulled across them. Only a sliver of light shone into the dim chamber that Jack had no memory of ever entering. Trying to stand, his head swam and he abruptly sat down again, deciding that wasn't the best idea. Turning his head to his right, he saw a figure leaning against the wall a few feet from him, watching him with a sardonic grin. Focusing his eyes with an effort, he saw that it was Pierre or was it two Pierres? Shaking his head to clear the fuzz that seemed to cloud his mind, he realized that his cheek was stinging as if someone had slapped him.
"Not you too," Jack groaned.
"What are you talking about?" Pierre growled
"You shlapped me," Jack mumbled. "Everyone's always shlapping me. But yer th' only one in th' room so it must've been you."
Jack was very pleased with this logical deduction and said so to the gray-eyed man. Pierre looked down at him contemptuously.
"Stop your babbling, pirate. I wanted to wake you to see if it had worn off, but it obviously hasn't, and I don't want to hear you until you can speak half-way intelligently." He smirked. "If that's even possible."
Jack slowly processed what the man had said, his befuddled mind finally giving him the answer.
"You drugged me," he slurred accusingly.
"Why, yes, I did. Your company is infinitely preferable when you're unconscious."
"Where am I?" Jack demanded.
"None of your concern," Pierre snapped. "Now will you –
"Pierre." York's smooth voice interrupted him. "Is he ready?"
Pierre bowed to York and motioned with his head to where Jack was sitting. "He's still a bit incoherent, your grace, but it should wear off very soon."
"It had better," York said coldly. "I want him lucid by the time Parliament convenes."
Looking down at Jack with disdain, he nudged the pirate with his foot. "Get up. We are going."
Bracing his arm against the wall, Jack found that this time he could stand up without as much trouble, though his vision still swam a little.
"Help him to the coach, Pierre," York instructed, observing Jack's efforts. "He will not be able to make it by himself."
Pierre sneered in disgust, but wrapped his arm around Jack's shoulders and half-pushed, half-dragged him out to the vehicle. Jack sprawled ungracefully across the seat as Pierre shoved him inside, wondering if he had unknowingly died and ended up in hell. That could be the only explanation for the fact that he seemed to be spending most of his time in a coach, which he had sworn to never ride in again. Of course if he had been in hell, Barbossa would have materialized by now and seeing as there were no signs of the bastard, he would have to conclude that he was still alive. And I am much too drugged, Jack thought, cutting of his random train of thought. He should be focusing on how to escape. Though the way that jewel York wore kept swinging back and forth as the coach moved was rather fascinating. And the way its depths shimmered as though a fire were burning within.
York seemed to notice Jack's preoccupation with his necklace, and he tucked it into his shirt with a glare at the captain.
"Do not even think it, pirate."
Jack smiled disarmingly. "I'm not thinkin' anything, mate."
"Hmm," York said suspiciously, settling back against his seat opposite Jack.
Feeling York's eyes on him, Jack shut his own and relaxed, concentrating on regaining command of his faculties. Within an hour, they had reached a large, classically designed building that Jack assumed was where Parliament convened. By this time, his head had fully cleared and his sharp gaze took everything in as he stepped out of the coach. The vehicle had stopped in a white stone courtyard that was fairly bristling with red-coated soldiers, and he noticed two more coming over to escort York and himself to the Parliament doors. Smothering a sigh, he accepted that the opportune moment for escape still had not arrived and followed the men to the buildings entrance.
"Your grace, would you like me to escort this man elsewhere?" one of the redcoats asked, eyeing Jack dubiously.
"No," York said curtly. "He is going inside with me."
"Very good, your grace," the man said, saluting.
Pushing open the doors, York and Jack stepped into a high-ceilinged chamber with tiered rows of seats lining the room to their right and left. Most of them were already filled with various lords who turned to look at the late arrivers.
"Duke York," said the moderator in some surprise. "We were just about to begin."
York gave a short bow. "I apologize for my tardiness, but there was an urgent matter I had to attend to first."
"And who is this person?" the moderator asked, looking disapprovingly at Jack. "You know that no unannounced observers are allowed."
"This is no observer, my lords," York proclaimed loudly for the benefit of everyone.
Jack was prodded up to the front of the room, a wave of murmurs following his progress as the men caught a glimpse of him. Reaching the speaker's platform at the front of the room, Jack turned around and calmly surveyed all the lords, who stared back at him with varying expressions of disdain, annoyance, and curiosity. Only two faces among the crowd showed fear. Robert's face was tightened with worry as he stared down at Jack, and his father looked white. Tipping his head to them in acknowledgment, Jack pressed a finger to his lips to show that they should be silent for now, and Robert nodded slowly.
Clearly relishing the situation, York stood with his hands behind his back in a posture of total control and authority.
"My lords," he said, when the murmurs had quieted a little, "may I present Jack Lancaster?"