The next few days were unexpectedly quiet for the both of them. Jack
stayed in the lab, refusing to come up to a spare bedroom, since no one had
known he was on the island, and it would no doubt ring alarm bells if he
turned up mysteriously. Although Emilia felt he had a point, she knew Jack
well enough to see that the past year in isolation had taken its toll on
Jack's comfort around people.
Dealing with him would have to wait a few days, however, as she once again had to let her presence be known to the island, both to the social elite and the spy network. Everything had to be done carefully- social scenes change, and spies change alliances- but Palau Palau, she had to admit, was isolated from the ravages of the outside world, and little changed. Governor Croque was so harmless that no country- not even his own- cared if he stayed in charge. The islanders, thus, still hated the governing class like nothing else, and were more than willing to help the British spy with information.
Jack, too, was helpful in filling in what he had learned in the past year. Ships from every major country in Europe stopped here, so he knew things about recent trade routes that even England would be hard pressed to learn. Even country-less, he was still one of the best spies out there- something Emilia had never really thought about until they had parted ways before. Now, seeing him with all the bravado stripped away, it was painfully obvious that this man knew what he was doing. It only made Emilia even more determined to save him from this pit of despair he had been flung into.
So when it was clear Jack was completely out of the woods, so to speak, she set her plan in motion. She prepared him a simple dinner that night, which she knew he had enjoyed so much more than the fancy creations of the governor's mansion, back when they had been first assigned to each other. Grasping the tray, she stepped through the fireplace and smiled to see Jack engrossed in several of the books she had left him when he had refused to come up stairs. Unaware he was being watched from the top of the stairs, he played absentmindedly with the eye patch that Emilia had provided him to help heal the scar tissue around his eye. "Jack, leave it be. It will heal quicker this way."
He looked up and smiled. "Hey, Em. Sorry, but it's just odd having something there. The mask is easy enough to wear, but having no depth perception bites." He attempted to hides the book he was reading inconspicuously.
Emilia set the tray down and snatched the book from Jack's grasp. "What are you hiding here, Jack Stiles?" She looked at the book cover. "The Tempest? Why, Jack, I never knew you liked William Shakespeare. Although I can see how you can relate the story to our own predicament."
"Yeah, well, I figured you'd make some comment about British superiority in the writing department, or something along the lines about being able to understand the big words. Yes, Em, I like Shakespeare. His writing is definitely page turning. To be able to be banished and come out in the end happier- it's something anyone could wish for." Jack couldn't help but sound a bit bitter at that.
Emilia sighed. "Jack...." She brushed a stray hair from his head. "Well, who knows, there's time left for you to have a happy ending. Right now, I'm more concerned about this food ending up in your stomach. You've been without proper diet for far too long, it's about time you got a decent set of meals." She moved the tray in front of him, practically glaring the food down his throat.
"Yes, ma'am, whatever you say." He threw her a mock salute.
Emilia toyed with the book in front of her. "When we started working together, back then, I imagined you as a sort of Caliban."
"Gee, thanks, Em. I didn't know you cared." Jack rolled his eyes.
"I didn't say I still thought of you as such, Jack. I have to say that probably, if I thought about it, you'd have been more of an Ariel- not exactly willing to do tasks, but competent and mischievous."
"Yeah, I can definitely have seen you playing Prospero- nose so far down in a book that you let the real world pass you by!"
"Very funny. Now that I think back on it, you really were a bit of a Ferdinand. A little too passionate for your own good, and could use a bit of sense knocked into you, but willing to do anything for your cause. Even it did mean getting whacked around by Prospero every so often." Emilia grinned.
"What do you mean, 'Every so often'?! You took a whack at me nearly every chance you got!" Jack smiled, before stifling a yawn. "Funny, I've gotten terribly tired all of the sudden. Guess all that reading and bickering wore me...out..." Jack slumped backward onto the bed, his silverware clattering on the nearly empty plate. Through heavy eyelids, he concentrated on Emilia's sad face. "What? Wait...Em... you... drugged my food...didn't you? I...trusted you." It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open.
Emilia cupped his cheek, and looked him straight in the eye, even as it lost focus. "Jack, I promise you I'm not betraying that trust. But you wouldn't agree to this otherwise. I will not let anything happen to you, alright?" Emilia felt more than saw Jack nod slightly. Feeling horribly guilty, she rested her forehead against his, rocking it softly. When he was completely under the effects, she kissed his relaxed brow, and stood up.
It was time for her to work a little illusion for the people of Palau Palau.
The last thing he remembered was the feeling of Emilia's skin on his. It wasn't too bad a feeling, so he reached out to find her again, but found nothing. He started, then, as felt the bed...no, the entire room rock beneath him. He was on a ship! That little-! He shot up, desperate to find out where he was. Had she sold him out, back to face the tribunal of his own country or sent him to England, to tell him what he knew?
"Easy there, mate. Or you'll ruin the paint." An older man came out of the shadows of the small cabin and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll be back to Palau Palau in no time."
Paint? Didn't he just come from the island? What was going on?
The older man, who Jack now recognized as one of Emilia's various captains among the merchant fleet, smiled knowingly. "Look at you, mate. Looking pretty sharp for a guy who's survived being captured by pirates, eh?"
Jack looked incredulously at the older man, then down at himself. His upper body, which was bare, was a crisscross of bandages. All the scars he'd gotten in the past few years looked as if they had all reopened, and only just begun to re-heal. Funny, he didn't feel in any pain.... Of course! It was make-up! That was what the old man had been talking about.
As realization on what Emilia had done, the old man continued talking. "We just found you, you see, aboard a pirate ship that another vessel just captured. Seems that your boat got attacked, and the pirates were trying to ransom you. We're taking you back to Palau Palau for some proper medical treatment. Hopefully our employer, Emilia Rothschild, will know of a good doctor, maybe be able to put you up while you stay." He winked at Jack, who grinned.
"Why that rascal of an English woman!" Jack shook his head in disbelief. "I guess I underestimated her...again." He lightly touched the rapier wound on his arm and leaned back against the pillows, staring beyond the ceiling.
"We'll be at dock in a few hours, sir. Ms. Rothschild said it'd be best if you didn't speak when we haul you topside. For the pageantry, she said, and the less you speak the bigger the shock will be to the guv and the island." The captain gave Jack small cup of wine. "You can guess what's in this."
Jack nodded and scowled at the cup, before downing it in one swig. But even as he drifted off again under the spell of Emilia's concoction, he wondered if there was still a need for a Jack Stiles in this new world.
Dealing with him would have to wait a few days, however, as she once again had to let her presence be known to the island, both to the social elite and the spy network. Everything had to be done carefully- social scenes change, and spies change alliances- but Palau Palau, she had to admit, was isolated from the ravages of the outside world, and little changed. Governor Croque was so harmless that no country- not even his own- cared if he stayed in charge. The islanders, thus, still hated the governing class like nothing else, and were more than willing to help the British spy with information.
Jack, too, was helpful in filling in what he had learned in the past year. Ships from every major country in Europe stopped here, so he knew things about recent trade routes that even England would be hard pressed to learn. Even country-less, he was still one of the best spies out there- something Emilia had never really thought about until they had parted ways before. Now, seeing him with all the bravado stripped away, it was painfully obvious that this man knew what he was doing. It only made Emilia even more determined to save him from this pit of despair he had been flung into.
So when it was clear Jack was completely out of the woods, so to speak, she set her plan in motion. She prepared him a simple dinner that night, which she knew he had enjoyed so much more than the fancy creations of the governor's mansion, back when they had been first assigned to each other. Grasping the tray, she stepped through the fireplace and smiled to see Jack engrossed in several of the books she had left him when he had refused to come up stairs. Unaware he was being watched from the top of the stairs, he played absentmindedly with the eye patch that Emilia had provided him to help heal the scar tissue around his eye. "Jack, leave it be. It will heal quicker this way."
He looked up and smiled. "Hey, Em. Sorry, but it's just odd having something there. The mask is easy enough to wear, but having no depth perception bites." He attempted to hides the book he was reading inconspicuously.
Emilia set the tray down and snatched the book from Jack's grasp. "What are you hiding here, Jack Stiles?" She looked at the book cover. "The Tempest? Why, Jack, I never knew you liked William Shakespeare. Although I can see how you can relate the story to our own predicament."
"Yeah, well, I figured you'd make some comment about British superiority in the writing department, or something along the lines about being able to understand the big words. Yes, Em, I like Shakespeare. His writing is definitely page turning. To be able to be banished and come out in the end happier- it's something anyone could wish for." Jack couldn't help but sound a bit bitter at that.
Emilia sighed. "Jack...." She brushed a stray hair from his head. "Well, who knows, there's time left for you to have a happy ending. Right now, I'm more concerned about this food ending up in your stomach. You've been without proper diet for far too long, it's about time you got a decent set of meals." She moved the tray in front of him, practically glaring the food down his throat.
"Yes, ma'am, whatever you say." He threw her a mock salute.
Emilia toyed with the book in front of her. "When we started working together, back then, I imagined you as a sort of Caliban."
"Gee, thanks, Em. I didn't know you cared." Jack rolled his eyes.
"I didn't say I still thought of you as such, Jack. I have to say that probably, if I thought about it, you'd have been more of an Ariel- not exactly willing to do tasks, but competent and mischievous."
"Yeah, I can definitely have seen you playing Prospero- nose so far down in a book that you let the real world pass you by!"
"Very funny. Now that I think back on it, you really were a bit of a Ferdinand. A little too passionate for your own good, and could use a bit of sense knocked into you, but willing to do anything for your cause. Even it did mean getting whacked around by Prospero every so often." Emilia grinned.
"What do you mean, 'Every so often'?! You took a whack at me nearly every chance you got!" Jack smiled, before stifling a yawn. "Funny, I've gotten terribly tired all of the sudden. Guess all that reading and bickering wore me...out..." Jack slumped backward onto the bed, his silverware clattering on the nearly empty plate. Through heavy eyelids, he concentrated on Emilia's sad face. "What? Wait...Em... you... drugged my food...didn't you? I...trusted you." It was getting harder and harder to keep his eyes open.
Emilia cupped his cheek, and looked him straight in the eye, even as it lost focus. "Jack, I promise you I'm not betraying that trust. But you wouldn't agree to this otherwise. I will not let anything happen to you, alright?" Emilia felt more than saw Jack nod slightly. Feeling horribly guilty, she rested her forehead against his, rocking it softly. When he was completely under the effects, she kissed his relaxed brow, and stood up.
It was time for her to work a little illusion for the people of Palau Palau.
The last thing he remembered was the feeling of Emilia's skin on his. It wasn't too bad a feeling, so he reached out to find her again, but found nothing. He started, then, as felt the bed...no, the entire room rock beneath him. He was on a ship! That little-! He shot up, desperate to find out where he was. Had she sold him out, back to face the tribunal of his own country or sent him to England, to tell him what he knew?
"Easy there, mate. Or you'll ruin the paint." An older man came out of the shadows of the small cabin and patted his shoulder. "Don't worry, you'll be back to Palau Palau in no time."
Paint? Didn't he just come from the island? What was going on?
The older man, who Jack now recognized as one of Emilia's various captains among the merchant fleet, smiled knowingly. "Look at you, mate. Looking pretty sharp for a guy who's survived being captured by pirates, eh?"
Jack looked incredulously at the older man, then down at himself. His upper body, which was bare, was a crisscross of bandages. All the scars he'd gotten in the past few years looked as if they had all reopened, and only just begun to re-heal. Funny, he didn't feel in any pain.... Of course! It was make-up! That was what the old man had been talking about.
As realization on what Emilia had done, the old man continued talking. "We just found you, you see, aboard a pirate ship that another vessel just captured. Seems that your boat got attacked, and the pirates were trying to ransom you. We're taking you back to Palau Palau for some proper medical treatment. Hopefully our employer, Emilia Rothschild, will know of a good doctor, maybe be able to put you up while you stay." He winked at Jack, who grinned.
"Why that rascal of an English woman!" Jack shook his head in disbelief. "I guess I underestimated her...again." He lightly touched the rapier wound on his arm and leaned back against the pillows, staring beyond the ceiling.
"We'll be at dock in a few hours, sir. Ms. Rothschild said it'd be best if you didn't speak when we haul you topside. For the pageantry, she said, and the less you speak the bigger the shock will be to the guv and the island." The captain gave Jack small cup of wine. "You can guess what's in this."
Jack nodded and scowled at the cup, before downing it in one swig. But even as he drifted off again under the spell of Emilia's concoction, he wondered if there was still a need for a Jack Stiles in this new world.