I apologize for the super long wait for the updates on this. This one is a little on the shorter side, but hopefully next chapter should be more interesting.

Something Familiar

Part Four

He sat in his parlour, one leg over the other, balancing a glass of wine in his hand. While he was relieved that his visit to Bowerstone and Sparrow was done with, and that he was back in his manor again, he couldn't seem to get the events out of his head. He really could care less about what portrait Sparrow hung in the castle's halls, or what else her chosen artist would put out, but he was more interested in the feeling that it left him. There had been something enjoyable about being in the presence of royalty, more so just how much people seemed to respect him by just being associated with such people.

Of course, he was treated as royalty. At least, within the pirate community, and quite the king we was. When other pirates were clamouring to be part of his crew, they feared him or they, more enjoyably, were stupid enough to challenge him for the title. Still, Reaver had to admit, he could sense that his turn in the pirating age was starting to bore him, it was in his nature to adapt. You simply had to when you lived as long as he had. Maybe it would be worth while trying to put himself in dear Queen Sparrow's court or, at least, within the noble circle. Of course, Sparrow wouldn't want anything to do with him and her reign, but a queen has to have heirs at some point.

Though, with the appeal of that idea, there came the question of how he would do that. Sparrow was as civil as she could have been with him during the artist task, as he was with her, though he doubted that she would just willingly accept him into her circle with everything he had done. He would have to change, become someone that he just wasn't. He would have to adopt such high morals, become as good as she, possibly even more. Reaver let out a chuckle at the thought, knowing that it was just impossible, there was just something so alluring to stand within the grey. He was above many people as an immortal, even more so as a Hero, as much as he hated to admit it. Still, he could make Sparrow believe that, but not on his own.

Wasn't it said that children had the ability to change people? Something about innocence and responsibility. Reaver didn't know, nor care, but the thought that appeared into his mind was rather interesting. He doubted that the slightly temperamental young woman would bring about in him some sense of fatherly instinct, though he certainly could act as such. If he could somehow convince Esther to play along, maybe he could convince Sparrow that he was worth keeping around. Of course, he may not convince Sparrow, but he probably could convince a impressionable noble.

Scurried footsteps approached him, one of his few house staff standing a few steps away from him. He was a scruffy looking man, obviously a resident of Bloodstone, though he was loyal at least.

"Ya wanted to see me, sir?" he asked, Reaver glancing over at him from his chair as he extended his glass towards him, shaking it slightly.

"I need this topped off again," he said, the man walking forward and took the glass from him, though upon seeing Reaver gesture that he wait, he just simply stood beside the chair.

"I also need someone to head up to Oakfield," Reaver said, "to fetch an artist by the name of Esther. I wish to commission a portrait from her. Tell her she will be well payed."

"Yes, sir," the man said quickly, leaving as quickly as he appeared once he was dismissed.

A smile crossed Elizabeth's face as she stood, leaning against the side of the house as she watched Esther sitting under the base of a tree, a young girl sitting in the grass and chatting animatedly at her. Esther's hands were busy at work, drawing up something that the girl was waiting for. Elizabeth was rather surprised that her daughter was able to keep the child there for so long, it had to be at least a few hours they had been sitting there.

It was nice to see Esther starting to come around to her normal self again, all smiles and lighthearted jokes. Whatever she had ran into in Bowerstone, it had effected her significantly enough that it carried on after the whole thing had occurred. At first, Elizabeth had just assumed it was the disappointment about not being picked as an artist, though once she started asking some questions about her father, of all things, that was when Elizabeth became concerned. She had been expecting the questions when Esther had been in her childhood, when she noticed all her other friends and their families, but nothing came.

Esther never pried more than one question, though Elizabeth knew that something had happened between her and Reaver. Her daughter had explained to her about the conversation in the garden. Elizabeth had just brushed it off, telling her that he was just mocking her or talking about something that he had no idea about. Still, her mother couldn't help but become worried and concerned. Had Reaver figured it out? It certainly sounded like it.

It's been months, she thought to herself, if he had any interest in her, any at all, he would have kept her in Bowerstone somehow or contacted her already.

The little girl jumped up suddenly as Esther rised up, carefully pulling the page out of her journal, giving the little girl a bright smile. She handed her the drawing, the girl jumping up and down, wrapping her arms around Esther's waist before darting off, most likely to show off her drawing to her friends. Esther turned, jumping slightly at seeing her mother, though the smile on her face didn't fade.

"I am rather impressed you managed to keep that girl sitting in the grass for so long," Elizabeth said as her daughter approached her, "what did you bribe her with? Candy? A toy?"

"Just the image of a wonderful young princess surrounded by a mysterious and beautiful castle," Esther said with a chuckle, "I got a rather interesting story about a prince, the "bestest Hobbe slayer in all the land"."

"It was very nice of you to do that for her, I am sure she will treasure that picture forever," Elizabeth said, pulling her daughter close and pressed a kiss to her head. Esther grinned, letting out another chuckle.

"I really hope not," she said, "the lighting over there isn't the best and I had to draw something from memory."

"Well, the last piece that you drew from memory is still in the possession of the Queen of Albion, is it not?" Elizabeth said, raising an eyebrow as Esther blushed and rubbed the back of her neck.

"Yes, I guess it is."

"I'm very pleased that you are looking so happy again," Elizabeth said as the two of them headed back around to the front of the house, "you had me concerned, all the sleeping and silence..."

"I just needed some time to sort things out in my head," Esther said, her smile fading slightly, "though, I eventually just thought about what it mattered to me. There is just...one question I want to ask you."

"Okay," Elizabeth said, pausing at the front door and turned to look at her, arms crossed.

"Is Reaver my father?"

Elizabeth paused, the question taking a moment to register in her brain. Slowly, she nodded her head, letting out a sigh and looked down, arms still crossed.

"He is, yes," she stated, "I'm so sorry, Esther."

"What for?" Esther asked, looking genuinely confused. Elizabeth glanced back up, a frown on her face as she let her arms rest at her sides.

"For not telling you. Making you related to a greedy and selfish man. There are a number of things I should be apologizing for, love."

Esther shook her head, "I'm not upset with you. I can't be, you were the one who has taken care of me, been there for me. This man, my...father, he was not. He didn't even bother to be straight-forward with me, he just dangled vague information in front of me, then left me to try and sort through it. He is not a parent, and for all I care, he is not my father."

Elizabeth frowned at her, eyes sad before she nodded, letting out yet another sigh as she pulled her daughter in close again, embracing her tightly. Esther shut her eyes, taking in the familiar comfort of her mother's arms, a small smile crossing her face.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Elizabeth said, pulling away, "always."

Behind the mother and daughter, unaware of the moment between the two, the oddly dressed and dishevelled man cleared his throat. Elizabeth was the first to see him, a look of surprise and suspicion crossing her face as Esther turned to look over at the man as well. She could still feel her mother's hand on her back, as if she waiting for the moment to grab her and pull her back behind her.

"I'm looking for an Esther," the man said, his voice rough and somewhat demanding, "are any of you her?"

"I-I am," Esther said, a frown crossing her face as the man nodded his head, walking towards her.

"I'm here on behalf of me boss, Reaver," he said, Esther's eyebrows raising slightly, "he wants you to draw 'im."

"No," Elizabeth snapped, stepping in, causing both Esther and the man to look at her, "While she is still under my care, Esther will not be making the journey up to Bloodstone to draw for him. You can tell Reaver that she isn't available."

"He's willing to pay 2,000 gold for 'er services," the man said, "'long with accommodations."

"He's not buying my daughter!" Elizabeth exclaimed, grabbing Esther's arm, "You can tell him that she refused and will need to find another artist."

"Wait," Esther said, placing a hand on her mother's arm, stopping her from dragging her into the house, "2,000 gold you said?"

The man nodded his head, a look crossing the young woman's face as she considered that. While she sided with her mother mostly in refusing, they needed money. It would be enough to keep her mother and herself supported for at least a month, maybe more. She looked up at her mother, who was shaking her head at her.

"Esther, it would be best that you didn't go with this man. Reaver, he-"

"I'm aware what he is like, I have met him before," Esther said, "we need the money, mother. I know that the journey to Bloodstone is the long one, and the town is dangerous, but for that amount of gold, it could very well be worth it."

"No, you will not be-"

"I thought you were going to start letting me make my own decisions," Esther said, backing away from her mother slightly, "I'm not doing this on some hope that he will accept me, but that gold could help us so much. You know that."

"It's not worth it," Elizabeth said, crossing her arms, "you'll be making a mistake. I..."

"Let me make some mistakes, please," Esther said, "I'm not keen on this either, but I have a feeling that it might just be alright."

"You're going to let him buy you?" Elizabeth asked, furrowing her eyebrows, "Esther, out of all the things you have done, this has to be the most reckless."

"I'll be fine. I promise," Esther said quickly, placing a hand on her arm, "this could be well worth it in the end."

"If you are so insistent that you must accompany this man back to Bloodstone to draw for Reaver, then..." Elizabeth paused, looking physically pained, "you are free to make your own mistake."

She shot the man a look before walking back into the house, leaving her daughter standing outside, feeling conflicted.

The day had been going so well...

We need that gold, she told herself, looking over at the man. From his looks alone, it was probably enough to convince her of the condition of Bloodstone. Reaver had carried himself so well, dressed so well, that it genuinely confused her as to why would choose to live there, of all places. Next to that horrible marsh...

"Give me a few hours to gather my things," Esther said after a few moments, the bitter tone in her voice obvious, "I'll meet you at the docks."