A/N: Copyrights to POTC are not mine. Copyrights to my characters are.
This chapter really doesn't have too much to do with the main plot at all,
but I've been going through some stuff and I needed a reason to laugh.
Ana wandered about the busiest part of Tortuga for about an hour, simply taking in the familiar surroundings. She knew she wouldn't be able to pick up any of the supplies they would need until daybreak so she simply decided to meander around the heart of the island. She passed numerous taverns, all very noisy and brightly lit with lamps. She took various turns, left then right, then left again, zigzagging her way through the avenues.
As she passed a row of dingy looking shops, she had a sudden thought, 'I wonder how many people really are stuck on this rock. I wonder if they were able to get away from here.' She took a tentative step forward, 'More to it, I wonder if they even remember me.' And with that thought, she turned on her heels and headed back the way she came, letting her feet carry her, not bothering to think of what her precise bearings were. She passed a foul-smelling blonde haired man who was surrounded by empty clay jugs and a number of mangy cats on her way back. He reached out and caught the hem of her skirt, "Where ye be going, pretty lass?" "None of your business, sir," she replied coldly as she tried to wrench her dress out of his grasp. "Well now, ain't you the fiery one?" he laughed in his gravelly voice. "Leave me be or you'll regret it," she threatened him. He laughed harder, "Come now, girl, keep some company with a man who's down and out." "Well, I can tell you're down, but unfortunately, you're not out," Ana sneered at him. The man turned angry, "Now see here, girl, I won't be talked to like that!" A voice called out clearly from down the road, "She can talk to ye however she likes, McCoy." Both Ana and the man on the ground turned in the direction of the voice. A man of about twenty with fiery red hair and skin that the sun had turned to a reddish brown came walking towards them. He did not walk slowly, but as though he had a purpose but did not need to hurry to fulfill it. Ana smiled brightly when her eyes locked with the young man's own pale green ones. The man on the ground started to cough and sputtered, "Now you hear me, boy. Ye won't be talking to me like that either. You and that brother o' yourn may look like your pap but ye ain't him, understand me?" Ana looked down at the man still clutching the material of her skirt and realization dawned on her face. "Ah, now come on, Uncle," said the red headed man as he kicked away McCoy's hand from Ana's dress, "Leave the young lady be. She's not yer flavor anyways." Ana bunched her under- and outer-skirts in her hands and took a step back from the filthy man at her feet so he could not get another handful of the material. "Say boy, have a bottle on you?" McCoy asked, apparently losing all memory of the disturbance he had just caused with Ana. The man standing by Ana laughed good-naturedly, "Well, Uncle, it's good to know yer mind works on more than one track, although I don't think highly of either: women and the bottle. Both'll get you into some nasty spots when you least expect it." He tossed a small brown glass bottle to the man sitting among the cats and added, "Better you than me." McCoy uncorked it and began to take enormous swigs, eventually ending up lying on his back. The man took Ana by the elbow and led her away from his drinking kin. "Thanks for that," Ana smiled up at him. "Daemon McElroy at your service, as usual, I might add" the red head bowed low to her. She laughed loudly, rousing some dozing drunks they were passing. "I find your uncle hasn't changed much, though I didn't expect him to ever be that brazen. And what of you and that likeness of yours? How have you been in my absence? Hungry?" she inquired. "Aye! Starvin' since the day you left port!" Daemon exclaimed clutching his non-existing belly," Haven't had a proper meal in somethin' odd years. Me brother got himself a wife..." "He did what?" Ana exclaimed, interrupting him. "Now hold on there, my lady, I haven't finished," he bowed again, winking with a mischievous grin, "He got himself a wife but she just couldn't take him so she up and left." "No!" "Yes, ma'am, married for no more than two weeks and took the next ship outta here." "I really didn't think he would be that bad," Ana admitted. "Nah, it wasn't him, really. Well, maybe a bit of it was. She just couldn't handle all that Irish," he laughed. "So where is he now?" she asked. "We got ourselves a tavern now, live above it in a little room. Take turns runnin' it in shifts," Daemon said proudly. Ana grinned, "So you're businessmen now, eh?" "Aye, truly," her companion grinned once more. It seemed to Ana that they had been walking aimlessly for the entirety of their conversation but it turned out her friend had another agenda. "That there's our little hovel," Daemon pointed up ahead to a small but rowdy little structure. It was definitely one of the more noisy establishments Ana had come across. 'It suits them,' she thought. "Come on," Daemon said excitedly, grabbing her hand, "You've gotta come and see!" He pulled her all the way to the door of his tavern.
When they stepped inside both of their faces broke into large smiles, Daemon's one of pride, Ana's one of amusement. Unlike the tavern she had entered with Jack, Will, and Gibbs, this bar had a welcoming atmosphere, ignoring the brawls taking place in different corners. "Oy, Owen, stop drinkin' our profits!" he called to his mirror image behind the counter who was sipping from a medium-sized tankard. He grinned impishly and waved at his twin then his mouth dropped open in dismay, "Daemon! Who've you got there? Is that who I think it is?" Ana smiled and waved at the openmouthed man. "The very one, brother o' mine! Our Lady Ana has come back to us! Pray we get some food in our bellies 'fore she takes off again!" Daemon hollered to his roguish brother. "Aye!" Owen yelled back and looked towards the ceiling, "Lord Above, take pity on the two oddities that have landed in your devil's paradise!" Ana laughed as she pulled up a stool opposite the man behind the counter. Owen didn't say anything as his twinkling green eyes studied her face. "Mate, where's your manners? Pour the girl a cuppa!" Daemon demanded. "Right-o!" he said and ducked under the counter. He emerged with a large mug and came back with an even bigger jug. As he poured the ale, he asked Ana, "Daemon here told you about me wife?" "Yes, he did. Honestly, Owen, what were you thinking?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. Owen shrugged, "I thought she could cook." Ana burst out laughing, snorting into her ale. The two Irishmen grinned at each other. "A thought just came to me..." Ana started. "Does that happen often?" Daemon asked in concern. Ana punched his arm before continuing, "How did you just happen to be walking down the same road I was tonight? You said you and your brother take shifts running this place. That's obviously true from right now. Shouldn't you have been resting or something?" Daemon smirked, "Resting, not I!" Ana narrowed her eyes at him. "Nay! Not the Look! I pray ye, not the Look!" Ana couldn't help herself, she was always laughing when she was in the company of these two. Owen answered her query, "Some bloke came in saying Jack Sparrow had come back and he was with a younger gent and a nice young lass who seemed vaguely familiar to him before. Well, the other gent's of no meaning to us but that Sparrow, if he's with a young lady, a nice young lady mind, well, that would have to be our Miss Ana! So I took a dash upstairs and got this lump outta bed to go find ye." Ana looked back and forth between her two friends. They really didn't seem to have aged a day since their last meeting. As the two men started to crack jokes on one another, she allowed her mind to slip into the past. The McElroy twins had made her stay in Tortuga bearable. They're wicked sense of humor and good nature had made her pass the time more quickly. While they knew they couldn't quite make her forget her past, they always did all they could to keep a smile on her face. They, too, had lost their parents to pirates though they remained with their aunt and uncle, and in the loss of her brother, they had become her next of kin. "...Ye shouldn't be drinking so much, mate," Daemon was saying as Ana came out of her reverie. "Ah, it's just a bit of liquid diet, Daem. 'Twon't do much harm." "It will on an empty stomach," Ana interjected. "You gonna do somethin' about it, then?" Owen challenged her. She sighed in compliance, "Aye, I'll do something about that starving belly of yours. What have you got around here?" "Nothing solid, that's for sure," Daemon said, disgruntled. "Is this the youngin I's took a liking to, so many years ago?" An ancient looking woman with red hair approached the three friends. "'Lo Auntie Moura!" Owen said jovially. "Hello, Miss Moura," Ana smiled at the old woman. "'Tis you, Ana, 'tis really you! Are ye back for good, my bonnie girl?" she asked in her heavy Irish accent. "Not a chance, Miss Moura, I'll be leaving again in a day or two," Ana answered softly. "Oh," the aged woman murmured. "Now Miss Moura, you know this isn't the place for me," she said, taking one of the old woman's hands in her own. "Why aren't you staying?" Daemon demanded. "I have things that need to be done. No, don't ask me any questions," she said putting up her hand to stop the tirade she knew was about to come forth. "Now Miss Moura, do you have any food I can make up for these nephews of yours?" "Yeah, Auntie Moura," Owen raised his eyebrows at his archaic relative, "Have ye got any eats for these starving neffies of yourn?" Moura McElroy threw a mutinous look at the men before her, "Now normally, I'd tell ye to starve, ye be making money in this evil place. But since it's on request from our Ana here, I'll see what I can bring up." She turned and shuffled out of the tavern.
"Well ain't ye our lucky charm, then?" Owen patted Ana's hand on the counter, "She'd just let us shrivel up like the old fig she's turned into." "Owen!" Ana reprimanded him. "It's true, Ana," Daemon said in mock sorrow, "Since we opened this place, our dear old uncle's taken to the bottle more than ever, which then leads him to go after the women, and our dear old Auntie blames us." "But, really, we don't make him drink the stuff," Owen put in, "We just don't deny our customers." Ana's two friends continued on their rant of their aunt's accusations until her return with a large sack of food parcels. "Well, here's a good bunch for these rascals. See what ye can do for them, Ana," she said, laying the bag on the counter away from a middle aged man nursing his small tankard of rum. "I don't think I'll be seeing ye again, so I wish you the very best where ever the wind takes ye." "Thank you, Miss Moura," Ana whispered, embracing the frail woman. Moura turned, wiped her eyes on her shawl and walked out of her nephews' tavern. "She's always like you better than us," Daemon said thoughtfully watching his aunt's retreating back. "Don't say that!" Ana said harshly. He shrugged, "Why not? It's true." Ana wasn't sure to feel indulged for herself or sad for her friends.
She spent a good portion of her night making up various dishes for her friends that could be kept for a long period of time without spoiling. When she had put the final dish under the counter, she peered out of the tavern doorway and saw the pink mist of dawn spreading through the street. "I should be on my way, I still have loads to do," she said. "So where are ye off to now, eh?" Owen asked, still sniffing at the pleasant smells that hung around their small oven in the other room. "Well, I could tell you that, Master Owen, but then I'd have to kill you," she said, playfully punching him in the ribs. "Ow!" he exclaimed, feigning injury and massaging his side. "So ye mean not to tell us what you're up to, then?" Daemon glanced sideways at her. "No, I mean not to." "Does it concern that Jack Sparrow?" "What do you think?" Ana asked, one hand on her hip. "Well, ye showed up with him, so I'm willin' to guess it does." Ana sighed, "Yes, it does concern him, but it concerns other matters as well." "All right, keep your secrets," Owen grinned, "We'll be missin' ye though." "Missing your meals, more like," Ana retorted. "Well now, that be a bit harsh, lass," Daemon said in a disapproving tone. "I don't hear you denying it," was the reply. Both men grinned. "It really such a bad thing we got the luck o' the draw when we caught you as a friend with a talent for cookin'?" Owen asked, a fresh mug of ale in his hand. "Gimme that!" Daemon grabbed the tankard away from his mirror image. "I was gonna drink that!" his brother countered. Ana rolled her eyes. Suddenly, she had an idea. "Boys, stop bickering, I need to ask a favor of you," she said, once more gaining her commanding aura. Both had their hands grasped around the mug but they looked at her, waiting for instruction. "I'm going to leave this here," she said, pulling out her money pouch and laying several coins of various sizes, smiling when her friends' eyes widened at the sight of them, "No, they aren't for you, or for the running of this place. I'm sure you've seen my ship in the possessor's yard down at the docks. I need to start making payments to get it back. I expect that my current business is going to take me quite some time. Save these coins, don't you spend them, mind, and make monthly payments to the shipyard on my behalf." Daemon and Owen looked at each other, nodding. "Aye, I suppose we could do that," Owen consented. "Not a cent is to be spent elsewhere, understood?" Ana's eyes flashed menacingly. Daemon took a step back from her, "Wouldn't dream of it!" "Oh, I'm sure you'd dream of it," Ana said, "You had just better not do it." "As you wish," he said, and scooped the money into his hand. "Besides," Owen added, "It would be on a real guilty conscience if we did, knowin's how much you love that ship." Ana smiled lightly, "Thanks for this. I really should be off now. I said I would return to my companions by daybreak with supplies for our voyage and, as you can see, the sun is rising and I haven't gotten a thing." "Well, at least we know you'll be back eventually. Not a big fear of starving in the mean time," Daemon winked at her. She hugged her good friends tightly and said, "Try to keep out of your aunt's wrath, she has a good heart, you know. And watch that unfathomable uncle of yours, he'll be in too deep before long. The wind will bear me back this way, and I expect you two to have yourselves in a right comfortable condition when I see you next, savvy?" The men nodded and smiled, and with that, she exited the Irishmen's tavern into the morning glow that was engulfing Tortuga.
Ana wandered about the busiest part of Tortuga for about an hour, simply taking in the familiar surroundings. She knew she wouldn't be able to pick up any of the supplies they would need until daybreak so she simply decided to meander around the heart of the island. She passed numerous taverns, all very noisy and brightly lit with lamps. She took various turns, left then right, then left again, zigzagging her way through the avenues.
As she passed a row of dingy looking shops, she had a sudden thought, 'I wonder how many people really are stuck on this rock. I wonder if they were able to get away from here.' She took a tentative step forward, 'More to it, I wonder if they even remember me.' And with that thought, she turned on her heels and headed back the way she came, letting her feet carry her, not bothering to think of what her precise bearings were. She passed a foul-smelling blonde haired man who was surrounded by empty clay jugs and a number of mangy cats on her way back. He reached out and caught the hem of her skirt, "Where ye be going, pretty lass?" "None of your business, sir," she replied coldly as she tried to wrench her dress out of his grasp. "Well now, ain't you the fiery one?" he laughed in his gravelly voice. "Leave me be or you'll regret it," she threatened him. He laughed harder, "Come now, girl, keep some company with a man who's down and out." "Well, I can tell you're down, but unfortunately, you're not out," Ana sneered at him. The man turned angry, "Now see here, girl, I won't be talked to like that!" A voice called out clearly from down the road, "She can talk to ye however she likes, McCoy." Both Ana and the man on the ground turned in the direction of the voice. A man of about twenty with fiery red hair and skin that the sun had turned to a reddish brown came walking towards them. He did not walk slowly, but as though he had a purpose but did not need to hurry to fulfill it. Ana smiled brightly when her eyes locked with the young man's own pale green ones. The man on the ground started to cough and sputtered, "Now you hear me, boy. Ye won't be talking to me like that either. You and that brother o' yourn may look like your pap but ye ain't him, understand me?" Ana looked down at the man still clutching the material of her skirt and realization dawned on her face. "Ah, now come on, Uncle," said the red headed man as he kicked away McCoy's hand from Ana's dress, "Leave the young lady be. She's not yer flavor anyways." Ana bunched her under- and outer-skirts in her hands and took a step back from the filthy man at her feet so he could not get another handful of the material. "Say boy, have a bottle on you?" McCoy asked, apparently losing all memory of the disturbance he had just caused with Ana. The man standing by Ana laughed good-naturedly, "Well, Uncle, it's good to know yer mind works on more than one track, although I don't think highly of either: women and the bottle. Both'll get you into some nasty spots when you least expect it." He tossed a small brown glass bottle to the man sitting among the cats and added, "Better you than me." McCoy uncorked it and began to take enormous swigs, eventually ending up lying on his back. The man took Ana by the elbow and led her away from his drinking kin. "Thanks for that," Ana smiled up at him. "Daemon McElroy at your service, as usual, I might add" the red head bowed low to her. She laughed loudly, rousing some dozing drunks they were passing. "I find your uncle hasn't changed much, though I didn't expect him to ever be that brazen. And what of you and that likeness of yours? How have you been in my absence? Hungry?" she inquired. "Aye! Starvin' since the day you left port!" Daemon exclaimed clutching his non-existing belly," Haven't had a proper meal in somethin' odd years. Me brother got himself a wife..." "He did what?" Ana exclaimed, interrupting him. "Now hold on there, my lady, I haven't finished," he bowed again, winking with a mischievous grin, "He got himself a wife but she just couldn't take him so she up and left." "No!" "Yes, ma'am, married for no more than two weeks and took the next ship outta here." "I really didn't think he would be that bad," Ana admitted. "Nah, it wasn't him, really. Well, maybe a bit of it was. She just couldn't handle all that Irish," he laughed. "So where is he now?" she asked. "We got ourselves a tavern now, live above it in a little room. Take turns runnin' it in shifts," Daemon said proudly. Ana grinned, "So you're businessmen now, eh?" "Aye, truly," her companion grinned once more. It seemed to Ana that they had been walking aimlessly for the entirety of their conversation but it turned out her friend had another agenda. "That there's our little hovel," Daemon pointed up ahead to a small but rowdy little structure. It was definitely one of the more noisy establishments Ana had come across. 'It suits them,' she thought. "Come on," Daemon said excitedly, grabbing her hand, "You've gotta come and see!" He pulled her all the way to the door of his tavern.
When they stepped inside both of their faces broke into large smiles, Daemon's one of pride, Ana's one of amusement. Unlike the tavern she had entered with Jack, Will, and Gibbs, this bar had a welcoming atmosphere, ignoring the brawls taking place in different corners. "Oy, Owen, stop drinkin' our profits!" he called to his mirror image behind the counter who was sipping from a medium-sized tankard. He grinned impishly and waved at his twin then his mouth dropped open in dismay, "Daemon! Who've you got there? Is that who I think it is?" Ana smiled and waved at the openmouthed man. "The very one, brother o' mine! Our Lady Ana has come back to us! Pray we get some food in our bellies 'fore she takes off again!" Daemon hollered to his roguish brother. "Aye!" Owen yelled back and looked towards the ceiling, "Lord Above, take pity on the two oddities that have landed in your devil's paradise!" Ana laughed as she pulled up a stool opposite the man behind the counter. Owen didn't say anything as his twinkling green eyes studied her face. "Mate, where's your manners? Pour the girl a cuppa!" Daemon demanded. "Right-o!" he said and ducked under the counter. He emerged with a large mug and came back with an even bigger jug. As he poured the ale, he asked Ana, "Daemon here told you about me wife?" "Yes, he did. Honestly, Owen, what were you thinking?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. Owen shrugged, "I thought she could cook." Ana burst out laughing, snorting into her ale. The two Irishmen grinned at each other. "A thought just came to me..." Ana started. "Does that happen often?" Daemon asked in concern. Ana punched his arm before continuing, "How did you just happen to be walking down the same road I was tonight? You said you and your brother take shifts running this place. That's obviously true from right now. Shouldn't you have been resting or something?" Daemon smirked, "Resting, not I!" Ana narrowed her eyes at him. "Nay! Not the Look! I pray ye, not the Look!" Ana couldn't help herself, she was always laughing when she was in the company of these two. Owen answered her query, "Some bloke came in saying Jack Sparrow had come back and he was with a younger gent and a nice young lass who seemed vaguely familiar to him before. Well, the other gent's of no meaning to us but that Sparrow, if he's with a young lady, a nice young lady mind, well, that would have to be our Miss Ana! So I took a dash upstairs and got this lump outta bed to go find ye." Ana looked back and forth between her two friends. They really didn't seem to have aged a day since their last meeting. As the two men started to crack jokes on one another, she allowed her mind to slip into the past. The McElroy twins had made her stay in Tortuga bearable. They're wicked sense of humor and good nature had made her pass the time more quickly. While they knew they couldn't quite make her forget her past, they always did all they could to keep a smile on her face. They, too, had lost their parents to pirates though they remained with their aunt and uncle, and in the loss of her brother, they had become her next of kin. "...Ye shouldn't be drinking so much, mate," Daemon was saying as Ana came out of her reverie. "Ah, it's just a bit of liquid diet, Daem. 'Twon't do much harm." "It will on an empty stomach," Ana interjected. "You gonna do somethin' about it, then?" Owen challenged her. She sighed in compliance, "Aye, I'll do something about that starving belly of yours. What have you got around here?" "Nothing solid, that's for sure," Daemon said, disgruntled. "Is this the youngin I's took a liking to, so many years ago?" An ancient looking woman with red hair approached the three friends. "'Lo Auntie Moura!" Owen said jovially. "Hello, Miss Moura," Ana smiled at the old woman. "'Tis you, Ana, 'tis really you! Are ye back for good, my bonnie girl?" she asked in her heavy Irish accent. "Not a chance, Miss Moura, I'll be leaving again in a day or two," Ana answered softly. "Oh," the aged woman murmured. "Now Miss Moura, you know this isn't the place for me," she said, taking one of the old woman's hands in her own. "Why aren't you staying?" Daemon demanded. "I have things that need to be done. No, don't ask me any questions," she said putting up her hand to stop the tirade she knew was about to come forth. "Now Miss Moura, do you have any food I can make up for these nephews of yours?" "Yeah, Auntie Moura," Owen raised his eyebrows at his archaic relative, "Have ye got any eats for these starving neffies of yourn?" Moura McElroy threw a mutinous look at the men before her, "Now normally, I'd tell ye to starve, ye be making money in this evil place. But since it's on request from our Ana here, I'll see what I can bring up." She turned and shuffled out of the tavern.
"Well ain't ye our lucky charm, then?" Owen patted Ana's hand on the counter, "She'd just let us shrivel up like the old fig she's turned into." "Owen!" Ana reprimanded him. "It's true, Ana," Daemon said in mock sorrow, "Since we opened this place, our dear old uncle's taken to the bottle more than ever, which then leads him to go after the women, and our dear old Auntie blames us." "But, really, we don't make him drink the stuff," Owen put in, "We just don't deny our customers." Ana's two friends continued on their rant of their aunt's accusations until her return with a large sack of food parcels. "Well, here's a good bunch for these rascals. See what ye can do for them, Ana," she said, laying the bag on the counter away from a middle aged man nursing his small tankard of rum. "I don't think I'll be seeing ye again, so I wish you the very best where ever the wind takes ye." "Thank you, Miss Moura," Ana whispered, embracing the frail woman. Moura turned, wiped her eyes on her shawl and walked out of her nephews' tavern. "She's always like you better than us," Daemon said thoughtfully watching his aunt's retreating back. "Don't say that!" Ana said harshly. He shrugged, "Why not? It's true." Ana wasn't sure to feel indulged for herself or sad for her friends.
She spent a good portion of her night making up various dishes for her friends that could be kept for a long period of time without spoiling. When she had put the final dish under the counter, she peered out of the tavern doorway and saw the pink mist of dawn spreading through the street. "I should be on my way, I still have loads to do," she said. "So where are ye off to now, eh?" Owen asked, still sniffing at the pleasant smells that hung around their small oven in the other room. "Well, I could tell you that, Master Owen, but then I'd have to kill you," she said, playfully punching him in the ribs. "Ow!" he exclaimed, feigning injury and massaging his side. "So ye mean not to tell us what you're up to, then?" Daemon glanced sideways at her. "No, I mean not to." "Does it concern that Jack Sparrow?" "What do you think?" Ana asked, one hand on her hip. "Well, ye showed up with him, so I'm willin' to guess it does." Ana sighed, "Yes, it does concern him, but it concerns other matters as well." "All right, keep your secrets," Owen grinned, "We'll be missin' ye though." "Missing your meals, more like," Ana retorted. "Well now, that be a bit harsh, lass," Daemon said in a disapproving tone. "I don't hear you denying it," was the reply. Both men grinned. "It really such a bad thing we got the luck o' the draw when we caught you as a friend with a talent for cookin'?" Owen asked, a fresh mug of ale in his hand. "Gimme that!" Daemon grabbed the tankard away from his mirror image. "I was gonna drink that!" his brother countered. Ana rolled her eyes. Suddenly, she had an idea. "Boys, stop bickering, I need to ask a favor of you," she said, once more gaining her commanding aura. Both had their hands grasped around the mug but they looked at her, waiting for instruction. "I'm going to leave this here," she said, pulling out her money pouch and laying several coins of various sizes, smiling when her friends' eyes widened at the sight of them, "No, they aren't for you, or for the running of this place. I'm sure you've seen my ship in the possessor's yard down at the docks. I need to start making payments to get it back. I expect that my current business is going to take me quite some time. Save these coins, don't you spend them, mind, and make monthly payments to the shipyard on my behalf." Daemon and Owen looked at each other, nodding. "Aye, I suppose we could do that," Owen consented. "Not a cent is to be spent elsewhere, understood?" Ana's eyes flashed menacingly. Daemon took a step back from her, "Wouldn't dream of it!" "Oh, I'm sure you'd dream of it," Ana said, "You had just better not do it." "As you wish," he said, and scooped the money into his hand. "Besides," Owen added, "It would be on a real guilty conscience if we did, knowin's how much you love that ship." Ana smiled lightly, "Thanks for this. I really should be off now. I said I would return to my companions by daybreak with supplies for our voyage and, as you can see, the sun is rising and I haven't gotten a thing." "Well, at least we know you'll be back eventually. Not a big fear of starving in the mean time," Daemon winked at her. She hugged her good friends tightly and said, "Try to keep out of your aunt's wrath, she has a good heart, you know. And watch that unfathomable uncle of yours, he'll be in too deep before long. The wind will bear me back this way, and I expect you two to have yourselves in a right comfortable condition when I see you next, savvy?" The men nodded and smiled, and with that, she exited the Irishmen's tavern into the morning glow that was engulfing Tortuga.
