A/N: Just a look into a day on the Nautilus where nothing from the movie
happens. Read and review, please, and I shall huggles you all day long!
Flames and criticism accepted, will be read as well, and respected.
However, I ask that, when you say you dislike something, you tell me why,
and not "because I do," because that doesn't tell me anything and I can't
fix it if I don't know what's wrong, ya know? Thanks, most respectfully.
Hey, does anyone know what an "Estelle Lynn" is?
Chapter Four: Two Days Ere Venice
"Who was that charming girl?" Henry asked Allan. It was morning, the next day, and though he looked almost like a ghost, he had a soft smile on his face. "An extraordinary voice... does she belong to someone in the League?"
"My daughter," Alan replied, then scanned the mess hall once more for the blue-eyed harper. She had yet to arrive that morning, and it was getting late. Alan felt a bit worried. "Sawyer," he suddenly called, "can you fetch Jessie for me?" The blond American nodded and left. Alan couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He knew it wasn't life threatening, but he knew that Jessie was in trouble.
* * *
"Stop it! Give it back!" Jessie jumped up to catch the harp being tossed back and forth, but she was too short compared to the tall ten- and eleven-year-old boys taunting her. "Don't, you'll break it! STOP IT!" The boys merely snickered. Jacob tossed it to Mathew, who threw it the ground and stomped on it. Jessie's eyes went wide as dinner plates as the wood splintered and cracked. Her arms fell to her sides. Her harp was broken. They'd destroyed her harp. She'd done nothing to them, except be there at the wrong time, and they'd destroyed her harp. Jessie felt like kicking them, like crying. Something welled up in her throat, threatening to choke her. Her mother had given her that harp before she'd left. Her mother... Jessie gave a cry of anguish. The scream in her mind, however, was much louder, and it reverberated through the corridors of the Nautilus.
Tom flew around a corner and saw Jessie on her knees, crying silently, surrounded by the remnants of what the American knew to be her precious harp. A half dozen boys were smiling meanly, some laughing at the display of tears. When Tom approached, their smiles faded and they ran. The special agent then knelt beside Jessie, putting an arm around her shoulder.
"Come on, Jess, we'll fix it."
"I don't know how. Tom, music's my strongest power. What can I do without it?" She didn't even bother hiding her tears.
"It's no big deal, Jess, I'll have it fixed in a jiff, on my honor."
"You can't."
"Can, too. Promise. Watch me."
"Oh, Tom..." The special agent realized this was a big deal to her, and so, to comfort her, he hugged her and petted and stroked her hair, every once in a while murmuring a gentle, "There, now, Jessie girl, it'll be okay, honest Injun, Jess..."
* * *
"I can't." Tom moaned, falling into a chair. "I don't get it."
"You promised her." Nemo murmured reproachfully. "You must do it."
"Captain, with all due respect, if you know so damn much, you fucking do it." Tom snapped, looking at the harp. It was fixed, or almost fixed, except for the strings. He couldn't get the strings right. Jessie had told him that the strings were extremely important. Damn.
A knock at the door, and Dorian Gray walked in, looking smug. "Finished yet?"
"Sod off." Skinner snapped. "You know we can't finish fixing this damn harp. Either be useful or go to hell."
"Give it here, imbeciles."
* * *
"There you are, now go... go play outside." Dorian said coldly. Jessie didn't move, but simply inspected the harp for a few minutes, then looked up at the immortal. "What are you waiting for? Shoo." Jessie smiled and hugged Dorian.
"Thank you." The harper said, and skipped out the door. Dorian stared after her for a moment, then tried to shrug off the peculiar sensation of the child's embrace. A peculiar warmth had settled around his heart, but he shook it off as heartburn. So the girl had hugged him, shown him a slight bit of affection. What girl that he'd ever met hadn't? It was no big deal, after all. Right?
Except this time it was true affection, not gratitude for wild, hot sex. Dorian ignored the nagging voice in the back of his mind.
* * *
"Ugh, Daddy! It's science! Who needs science! Math, yes. English and history, yes, but not science! Who wants to know how frogs spawn tadpoles, anyway? That's weird." Jessie gave Allan her best "set-me-free" look, and the sharpshooter sighed. "Alright," he cried dramatically, "go, away with you! You are free, Lady." With a whoop, Jessie grabbed her harp off the table and sped off. Whistling "Jingle Bells," as it was close to Christmas (A/N: a month was close when I was her age) she went in search of adventure. "Miss Mina? Miss Meeeee-nuh?" Jessie saw the door was closed to Mina's lab, so she sighed and went in search of Skinner, who was out on deck with Tom. "Oh, my two favorite people. 'Oh, frabjous day, callooh, callay.'" Jessie smiled as Skinner said, "The Jabberwocky, by Lewis Caroll." "Indeed." "So, my freaky little darling, what's the momentous occasion?" "I'm bored." "Gee, thanks, love." "Tell me a story." The Invisible Man looked down at Jessie in something akin to panic. He cleared his throat and repeated, "A story? Well, uh... once upon a time...."
* * *
By the time Skinner had finished the story, Jessie had fallen asleep, and again, she dreamed. Everything was darkness and water, and Jessie was floundering, for she didn't know how to swim. Men, bathed in shadow and unseen, were shouting and praying, in French, English, Hindustani. Men cried out to Allah, to God, to Vishnu. Jessie was praying silently for someone to help her from the water when suddenly the water began to ebb, draining away. Jessie was suddenly flung onto a dry floor of white marble, gasping and choking. She heard a voice. "You see, my voice isn't the only thing being played right now. While you all have been listening, sound waves higher than any human being can hear are being transmitted to crystal sensors placed throughout the ship." Dorian's voice, oozing contempt and high-handedness, hissed, "Sensors attached to bombs. Bomb voyage." There was the sound of something crashing to the floor, and the harper was thrown to the ground by a shuddering explosion. Jessie cried out, but then found her feet again. She stood up and saw she was in a stone building, and she saw Tom walking down a hallway. He stopped and turned, calling, "Skinner!" Something in Jessie began shrilling in alarm. "Skinner, it's me!" Panic took hold of Jessie, and she cried, "Run, Tom! Get away from him! It's dangerous!" A silver knife appeared out of nowhere, and caught the light of a torch. The reflection flared disturbingly bright, blinding her, and when she could look back, she saw her father. He was standing over a man, rifle cocked and ready to fire. The man reached up and ripped off a mask, revealing a very familiar face. It was M. But instead of lowering the rifle, Allan hissed, "You? You dirty bastard." The image faded into blackness. The seven-year-old saw Dorian holding a pistol, and Ishmael lying on the floor. The scene shifted, to Mina, Allan, Tom, and Dorian driving away in Nemo's automobile. Finally, she saw Tom, a knife to his throat, head back as if pulled by an invisible hand. And again, she saw Ash. But this time, it was just Ash. His gorgeous, spiky, ash-blond hair, his beautiful green eyes, his loving smile. She rushed into his arms. "Ash, Ash! What have you been trying to tell me? What's changed?" The Druid looked down at the harper, replying, "The moon is full, and it's getting closer and closer to the Solstice. Jesshiquekah, my dearest, darling Jesshiquekah, you must swear to me, by Our Lady of the Wood, that you'll be careful! You are surrounded by dangers, my love, they are all around. You're father is in danger, and so are you. I'm being held captive." Jessie gasped. "Who? Who has you? I can tell Brigid, she'll help you." "Brigid is imprisoned as well. I don't know where we are, but we will be together soon. Our paths will cross, and it will be soon, because we are fighting against a great evil, the Druids and the extraordinaries." The eight-year-old Druid looked certain. "The Phantom." Ash shook his head. "No, Jesshiquekah. Not the Phantom. I've seen the man you mean, from your memories. This is the man I mean." She saw the image sent to her telepathically. It wasn't the Phantom. "Ash, I feel so helpless. You're in danger, a prisoner, and I can do nothing." Tears were streaking down her cheeks. Ash kissed them away. "Everything will happen as it is meant to happen, my darling. Don't worry, because it will neither aid nor hinder the unfolding of events. It will only waste your energy. Now, tonight is the first night of the full moon. It will last for three nights, and then I'll only be able to contact you as I have been. Don't be afraid." "I'll know no fear, Ash." "I'm with you." "And I, with you." "I love you, Jesshiquekah, always and forever, under the moon." "I love you, Ash, always and forever, under the stars." They kissed innocently, as little children do. Jessie awoke, lying on her own bed, her harp on the nightstand. Skinner or Tom must have brought her. She took a deep breath, slid out of bed, and ran to find Allan.
Hey, does anyone know what an "Estelle Lynn" is?
Chapter Four: Two Days Ere Venice
"Who was that charming girl?" Henry asked Allan. It was morning, the next day, and though he looked almost like a ghost, he had a soft smile on his face. "An extraordinary voice... does she belong to someone in the League?"
"My daughter," Alan replied, then scanned the mess hall once more for the blue-eyed harper. She had yet to arrive that morning, and it was getting late. Alan felt a bit worried. "Sawyer," he suddenly called, "can you fetch Jessie for me?" The blond American nodded and left. Alan couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. He knew it wasn't life threatening, but he knew that Jessie was in trouble.
* * *
"Stop it! Give it back!" Jessie jumped up to catch the harp being tossed back and forth, but she was too short compared to the tall ten- and eleven-year-old boys taunting her. "Don't, you'll break it! STOP IT!" The boys merely snickered. Jacob tossed it to Mathew, who threw it the ground and stomped on it. Jessie's eyes went wide as dinner plates as the wood splintered and cracked. Her arms fell to her sides. Her harp was broken. They'd destroyed her harp. She'd done nothing to them, except be there at the wrong time, and they'd destroyed her harp. Jessie felt like kicking them, like crying. Something welled up in her throat, threatening to choke her. Her mother had given her that harp before she'd left. Her mother... Jessie gave a cry of anguish. The scream in her mind, however, was much louder, and it reverberated through the corridors of the Nautilus.
Tom flew around a corner and saw Jessie on her knees, crying silently, surrounded by the remnants of what the American knew to be her precious harp. A half dozen boys were smiling meanly, some laughing at the display of tears. When Tom approached, their smiles faded and they ran. The special agent then knelt beside Jessie, putting an arm around her shoulder.
"Come on, Jess, we'll fix it."
"I don't know how. Tom, music's my strongest power. What can I do without it?" She didn't even bother hiding her tears.
"It's no big deal, Jess, I'll have it fixed in a jiff, on my honor."
"You can't."
"Can, too. Promise. Watch me."
"Oh, Tom..." The special agent realized this was a big deal to her, and so, to comfort her, he hugged her and petted and stroked her hair, every once in a while murmuring a gentle, "There, now, Jessie girl, it'll be okay, honest Injun, Jess..."
* * *
"I can't." Tom moaned, falling into a chair. "I don't get it."
"You promised her." Nemo murmured reproachfully. "You must do it."
"Captain, with all due respect, if you know so damn much, you fucking do it." Tom snapped, looking at the harp. It was fixed, or almost fixed, except for the strings. He couldn't get the strings right. Jessie had told him that the strings were extremely important. Damn.
A knock at the door, and Dorian Gray walked in, looking smug. "Finished yet?"
"Sod off." Skinner snapped. "You know we can't finish fixing this damn harp. Either be useful or go to hell."
"Give it here, imbeciles."
* * *
"There you are, now go... go play outside." Dorian said coldly. Jessie didn't move, but simply inspected the harp for a few minutes, then looked up at the immortal. "What are you waiting for? Shoo." Jessie smiled and hugged Dorian.
"Thank you." The harper said, and skipped out the door. Dorian stared after her for a moment, then tried to shrug off the peculiar sensation of the child's embrace. A peculiar warmth had settled around his heart, but he shook it off as heartburn. So the girl had hugged him, shown him a slight bit of affection. What girl that he'd ever met hadn't? It was no big deal, after all. Right?
Except this time it was true affection, not gratitude for wild, hot sex. Dorian ignored the nagging voice in the back of his mind.
* * *
"Ugh, Daddy! It's science! Who needs science! Math, yes. English and history, yes, but not science! Who wants to know how frogs spawn tadpoles, anyway? That's weird." Jessie gave Allan her best "set-me-free" look, and the sharpshooter sighed. "Alright," he cried dramatically, "go, away with you! You are free, Lady." With a whoop, Jessie grabbed her harp off the table and sped off. Whistling "Jingle Bells," as it was close to Christmas (A/N: a month was close when I was her age) she went in search of adventure. "Miss Mina? Miss Meeeee-nuh?" Jessie saw the door was closed to Mina's lab, so she sighed and went in search of Skinner, who was out on deck with Tom. "Oh, my two favorite people. 'Oh, frabjous day, callooh, callay.'" Jessie smiled as Skinner said, "The Jabberwocky, by Lewis Caroll." "Indeed." "So, my freaky little darling, what's the momentous occasion?" "I'm bored." "Gee, thanks, love." "Tell me a story." The Invisible Man looked down at Jessie in something akin to panic. He cleared his throat and repeated, "A story? Well, uh... once upon a time...."
* * *
By the time Skinner had finished the story, Jessie had fallen asleep, and again, she dreamed. Everything was darkness and water, and Jessie was floundering, for she didn't know how to swim. Men, bathed in shadow and unseen, were shouting and praying, in French, English, Hindustani. Men cried out to Allah, to God, to Vishnu. Jessie was praying silently for someone to help her from the water when suddenly the water began to ebb, draining away. Jessie was suddenly flung onto a dry floor of white marble, gasping and choking. She heard a voice. "You see, my voice isn't the only thing being played right now. While you all have been listening, sound waves higher than any human being can hear are being transmitted to crystal sensors placed throughout the ship." Dorian's voice, oozing contempt and high-handedness, hissed, "Sensors attached to bombs. Bomb voyage." There was the sound of something crashing to the floor, and the harper was thrown to the ground by a shuddering explosion. Jessie cried out, but then found her feet again. She stood up and saw she was in a stone building, and she saw Tom walking down a hallway. He stopped and turned, calling, "Skinner!" Something in Jessie began shrilling in alarm. "Skinner, it's me!" Panic took hold of Jessie, and she cried, "Run, Tom! Get away from him! It's dangerous!" A silver knife appeared out of nowhere, and caught the light of a torch. The reflection flared disturbingly bright, blinding her, and when she could look back, she saw her father. He was standing over a man, rifle cocked and ready to fire. The man reached up and ripped off a mask, revealing a very familiar face. It was M. But instead of lowering the rifle, Allan hissed, "You? You dirty bastard." The image faded into blackness. The seven-year-old saw Dorian holding a pistol, and Ishmael lying on the floor. The scene shifted, to Mina, Allan, Tom, and Dorian driving away in Nemo's automobile. Finally, she saw Tom, a knife to his throat, head back as if pulled by an invisible hand. And again, she saw Ash. But this time, it was just Ash. His gorgeous, spiky, ash-blond hair, his beautiful green eyes, his loving smile. She rushed into his arms. "Ash, Ash! What have you been trying to tell me? What's changed?" The Druid looked down at the harper, replying, "The moon is full, and it's getting closer and closer to the Solstice. Jesshiquekah, my dearest, darling Jesshiquekah, you must swear to me, by Our Lady of the Wood, that you'll be careful! You are surrounded by dangers, my love, they are all around. You're father is in danger, and so are you. I'm being held captive." Jessie gasped. "Who? Who has you? I can tell Brigid, she'll help you." "Brigid is imprisoned as well. I don't know where we are, but we will be together soon. Our paths will cross, and it will be soon, because we are fighting against a great evil, the Druids and the extraordinaries." The eight-year-old Druid looked certain. "The Phantom." Ash shook his head. "No, Jesshiquekah. Not the Phantom. I've seen the man you mean, from your memories. This is the man I mean." She saw the image sent to her telepathically. It wasn't the Phantom. "Ash, I feel so helpless. You're in danger, a prisoner, and I can do nothing." Tears were streaking down her cheeks. Ash kissed them away. "Everything will happen as it is meant to happen, my darling. Don't worry, because it will neither aid nor hinder the unfolding of events. It will only waste your energy. Now, tonight is the first night of the full moon. It will last for three nights, and then I'll only be able to contact you as I have been. Don't be afraid." "I'll know no fear, Ash." "I'm with you." "And I, with you." "I love you, Jesshiquekah, always and forever, under the moon." "I love you, Ash, always and forever, under the stars." They kissed innocently, as little children do. Jessie awoke, lying on her own bed, her harp on the nightstand. Skinner or Tom must have brought her. She took a deep breath, slid out of bed, and ran to find Allan.