Secrets
By Lindsay R. Honosky
Chapter Five: Bowerstone or Bust
I am sooooo sorry for the long update. Let's just say I sort of lost inspiration in everything for a while. Anyway, I hate how this chapter is; it's short and uneventful, however I suppose it's needed for some sort of story development. I apologize for the lack of quality, and please leave me reviews; hopefully I'll have the next chapter up much sooner (and written better) than this dreadful piece of...well, I'll stop now. R&R please!
The day seemed to pass without anyone's notice, the night emerging in a glorious show of stars and blue moon. Sparrow paced the docks aimlessly, not really sure why she was simply standing around. Perhaps she was avoiding going home purposely? It was quite an intimate conversation between her and the Hero of Skill; one she never thought she'd have to share. However, she couldn't take back what had happened, and now she was acting like a fool. So what if she had told Reaver? The self-centered oaf had probably forgotten all she had said anyway.
...But, he told me his name...
Heat rose in her cheeks, and for a moment his face flashed before her eyes. Not the mask he wears on a daily basis, but that scared, almost innocent face he had when she woke him from his nightmare. Sparrow growled to herself, ruffling her hair. How stupid! There was nothing there for him; absolutely nothing. So what if he were the most famous pirate to sail the waters of Albion? Who cares that the man was absolutely beautiful...Sparrow scowled, "And an absolute arse, egomaniac, sadist, masochist, murderer-!"
"I didn't know you thought of me so much, my dear."
Sparrow jumped, then recovered as she glared at the grinning pirate, "And just what makes you think I was refurring to you?"
He shrugged, "Do you know anyone else who fits those most wondrous adjectives?"
She looked towards the sea, hoping to hide her blush, "What do you want, Reaver?"
"A moment of your time, if you'd permit me."
"Do I have a choice?"
He laughed, "No, I guess you don't! Anyway, I believe I can fix our little 'problem', so to speak."
"Oh?" She raised an eyebrow, "This doesn't involve a bullet in my brain, perhaps? Or maybe a knife in my back?" He was silent for a moment, and when she turned to look at him she saw something that looked almost like hurt, "Reaver."
He seemed to catch himself, "Come now, Sparrow dear, I believe we're well past the point of killing each other, haven't we?" His smile seemed even more fake than it normally did, "After all, I was beginning to believe you didn't find me quite so...insufferable."
She felt the corners of her mouth twitch, "Reaver," she laughed slightly, "you're not trying to say that you like me, are you?"
His face grew dark, and for a moment Sparrow felt the need to grab her pistol, "I haven't 'liked' anyone for over 300 years, dear girl. You'd be wise not to get a swelled head."
She sighed, "Of course. I wonder how long it's been since you've been able to take a joke?"
Reaver pulled on his gloves, "I enjoy a joke every now and then, however ones played on me tend to end on a very sour note."
"I can only imagine."
"Yes, well," and once more he wore the face of Reaver, "none of this banter is getting us any closer to solving this puzzle, now is it?" Sparrow nodded, and he continued, "It seems a proposition has come to me from Bowerstone; a former acquaintance, you see, has informed me of a certain piece of real estate that has just gone on to the marked. Now, be a good dear and tell me just what you think that might be?"
"Really, Reaver, you know I already own Bowerstone. What else could there possibly be-!" Her breath caught in her throat, and the image of that white, towering castle shown behind her eyes.
He smirked, "But the look on your face I can tell you know what I am referring too?"
For a moment she couldn't speak, but then remembered who her company was, "There's no way I could afford it-"
"And why not?"
"I have to pay you back, obviously!"
"Think of it this way; you buy yourself that nice little castle, and I get back my house and the rest of Bloodstone." He smiled to himself, rubbing his chin, "Yes, I think I rather like that idea."
"Give you back Bloodstone?" Now Sparrow's face darkened, "Are you insane? You'd turn it back into that rotting cesspool once I left!"
"Now now, I believe "cesspool" is a little harsh, don't you think? Besides, you give me far to much credit; you actually believe I would waste my time interfering with these...people? All I want is my quaint little hilltop again so I can grow old and happy."
Her eyes narrowed, "I have your word? You would leave the people out of whatever it is you're planning?"
He shrugged, his face feigning innocence, "Who am I to tell them not to get involved?"
"Reaver!"
"Very well! Take heart, little Sparrow, I shall do no harm to these thralls you seem so attached to." He reached out his hand, a gleam in his eye, "So, have we reached an agreement?"
Sparrow hesitated, knowing full well she shouldn't trust the old pirate. But what other choice did she have? Like Reaver had so clearly put it; they were well past killing each other. If she didn't repair his ship soon, she'd be stuck with him for God knew how long, and that still didn't solve his house problem. And she could also fulfill her sister's dream...Their hands clapped in the silent night, and Sparrow sighed, "Agreed."
"Excellent! We leave at the first sign of dawn!" He turned with a flourish of his cape, heading back towards the manor.
Sparrow jogged after him, stammering, "We? What do you mean, 'we'? Reaver, you're coming with me?"
He turned, looking to her with an expression of contempt, "Really now, I thought you would have picked up on that. How am I to know my investment pays off if I do not see the transaction for myself? Besides, it's been ages since I've actually walked anywhere in Albion. It will be, how should I put it, a refresher course of the beauty that is my Albion." There was a pause between them, broken suddenly by a small giggle from Sparrow. Reaver raised an annoyed eyebrow, "And what is so humorous?"
From behind her hand, Sparrow giggled, "You don't exactly come across as the rugged adventurer type."
"Oh?" He snapped, "And just how do I come across?"
She passed him going up the stairs between the pub, "Oh no, I remember what you said about people telling jokes about you. Just keep in mind that you're the one who wanted to come along, not me."
"I have a very similar rule about those who keep secrets from me, Sparrow dear."
She shrugged, "I'm sure you do, but it's late, and I'm tired. Perhaps I'll tell you tomorrow," she giggled again, "on the road."
Jack's barking echoed down the alleyways, and Sparrow quickened her pace, leaving a fuming Reaver to follow after her.
She had woken dreading how long it would take the Pirate to finish packing for their journey, however she was pleasantly surprised (but mostly shocked) to find the man already downstairs with a pack that seemed much to tiny for his ego. Sparrow had expected something more...well, extravagant than an actually practical ammount of supplies for their trip. Reaver stood to the corner of his study, mindlessly skimming some book while Jack rested near the fireplace, as if to say farewell to his warmth-giving companion. However, once he noticed her the dog bound up from his resting rug, barking happily at his mistress. Sparrow kneeled, patting him on the head, "You ready for some action, boy?"
Sparrow jumped as Reaver slammed the book closed, a pleased grin on his face, "Well well, I see we're still sporting those lovely short-shorts."
"I'm still sporting my Clockwork aswell, if you'd care to take a look," she answered flately.
He sighed, "Always a violent response. How tragically dull." Reaver looked her over critically, "It is a shame, that you choose to cover up the best part of those shorts with that long coat of yours. And why wear such a tart bodice if you're just going to cover it up?"
"Are we really having this conversation?"
"I believe we are."
An exasperated sigh escaped her lips, and Sparrow shook her head, "If it's bothering you so terribly, I wear these because I can move in them. I wear the coat so as not to be confused as one of your whores." An explosion of laughter filled the room, and Sparrow frowned, "I'm glad you find those worshipers of yours so funny!"
"Oh no, I admire my fans. I only find it oh so delicious that people think that you are among them. Tell me now," there was a look in his eye that made Sparrow's stomach flip, "what else have they said about 'us'?"
Sparrow stood, flipped her hair, and headed towards the door, "Only the stuff of your wildest dreams, Reaver."
He picked up his pack and followed, "Really? My dreams can be quite...colorful."
"I'm sure they are."
The sun had barely risen over the waking world, a tick mist surround all in a suffocating gray. There was a chill to the air, though not unpleasant, and dew still clung to the surviving flowers of fall. Silence permeated the tiny port town, its denizens still fast asleep. Sparrow smiled, realizing how much she would miss this place. Here she had found solace, peace and quiet, and now to go back to the busy and noisy Bowerstone almost made her want to cringe. However, perhaps once she was settled into Fairfax, she could still be left alone? She laugh begrudgingly; of course, and people would just choose to forget that she was a hero and owned most if not all of Albion. She watched as Jack bounded down the alleys and streets, stopping only to see if his two companions were keeping up. Guilt built up in her throat, and she remembered the wish she made at the Spire. Her fists clenched, and she stopped walking for a moment.
Reaver, obviously lost in his own world, nearly stumbled into her. He shot her an annoyed glance, "Having second thoughts?"
"I..." Sparrow wouldn't look at him, afraid he'd see the tears brimming her eyes, "I did something very selfish, you remember."
"If I may, Sparrow, something selfish to you would be something selfless to me, so I say put it behind you." Her body was visibly shaking, but instead of insulting her, Reaver simply continued walking, "If you feel that you've done the people of this world wrong, then you should put all you have of yourself into making it right."
She looked up, surprise lacing her words, "Reaver?"
He waved his hand, "That is what your old heroes would have said, correct? Come now, I'd rather be out of Wraithmarsh before nightfall." She watched him for a while, not noticing the smile that played on her face. Realizing she was falling dreadfully behind, Sparrow ran after the two, apologizing for the delay.
They walked through Bloodstone in silence, as if afraid that a single word would wake the sleeping town. The sun rose to greet them, however his rays were lost behind the thick veil of fog. Sparrow sighed; it would probably rain again. Thankfully her head felt fine, for the moment, and leaving the coastline might give her a small respite from the ever changing weather conditions. Sea gulls cried above them, and as the reached the top of the hill the bells rang for the citizens of Bloodstone to awaken. Sparrow turned, wanting to look at her haven one last time. She could faintly make out three tiny shapes, running around chasing each other, the small glint of a doll's face in the arms of the tiniest. She smiled, mouthed the word "goodbye", and turned her back to Bloodstone, not knowing when next she might return.