"Well, do you have any idea what it is she does want, then? Because I don't."
Emily can understand Jo's frustration. With the visions their goddess gives them, they are a bit spoiled, used to knowing. When they don't, it's like having their legs cut right out from under them. Emily turns to look out at the Dutchman again and only shakes her head as the fear grips her again, irrationally intense and crippling. "I don't know. I don't…" Hands shaking again, she turns away and begins heading for her cabin.
"Peg?" Jo calls out, adding another colorful insult. "Where are you going? Peg!"
Emily ignores her as she slips below.
She comes to a halt in the middle of her cabin, not even bothering to close the door. She doesn't even know why exactly she came down here. She paces the room, trying to think, to come up with a reason why her mother would be paying a visit now. There has to be a reason, a logical reason that does not involve threatening to kill her daughter because Emily hasn't done anything to warrant that. At least, certainly not yet.
Collapsing onto her bed, she buries her face in her hands and begs her goddess to give her something, anything. But she's given nothing, and there's simply nothing for it. If her mother really wants to talk, there's no way Emily will be able to stop her.
"So. Whatever's goin on in that head o' yours, it's got somethin to do with yer mum." He says it almost conversationally. She didn't hear him coming.
Emily looks up to glare at him weakly. Alex is leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed and looking entirely too calm. "It has something to do with that thing parading around in what's left of her body, yes."
"She'd have fired on us by now if we were in danger of that, right?"
"Yes. Maybe. Goddess, I wish I knew." She stands and takes a breath, composing herself.
He watches her, his gaze somehow soft and worried and angry all at once. "Ye're going to tell me what's going on." It's not a suggestion.
Emily finds, for once, that she doesn't have it in her to argue with him. "Assuming you're right and all moth – Captain Swann wants is a chat? Aye. Fine." All is silent up on deck, she notes. She's not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
"Only one way to find out." He replies pointedly.
"Right." She doesn't look at him as she slips past and makes her way out into the open again.
Jo doesn't seem to know what to make of any of this; when Emily re-emerges, the older woman is still stood by the helm looking no less uncertain than the rest of the crew. Emily sends an apologetic glance in her direction and supposes she'll have to give in and explain things to Jo as well after this. She realizes Alex is right – with all the very large guns the Dutchman is sporting, pointing at all angles, if it was a fight her mother had wanted the Queen would already be in trouble.
Captain Swann, in typical fashion, skips any courtesies and appears before Emily on deck, alone, but she hardly needs anyone else to back her up. She's frightening enough on her own that no one dares move a muscle. She doesn't say anything at first, appearing to simply look her daughter over, taking her time. "My." She says at last, softly. "You have grown." Her eyes travel downward and linger a moment on Emily's bad leg, suggesting a feint curiosity, before darting back up to meet Emily's wary gaze. "And you do look like your father, don't you? I'd hoped once that you'd grow out of that. Pity."
Emily squares her shoulders and meets her mother's cold eyes with as little fear as she can manage. "Mother." She feels Alex come up behind her, hovering just over her shoulder, calming her further, and goes on steadily. "What can I do for you?"
"Oh, don't worry, not much." Captain Swann turns and wanders across the deck a short ways, looking around and inspecting things a bit as Emily's crew scrambles to stay out of her way. "Am I to understand this ship is yours, dear?" Emily cringes. The way her mother says it – almost too pleasant, as though she still cares for Emily at all. "A female captain and not even nine and ten years of age." She turns back to Emily. "That's quite a feat, you know."
Emily's eyes take in her mother in the dim light of the lamps scattered across the Queen's deck and she notes things she never would've in her dreams. The way her black fingernails come to a strange point and the fact that she has gills on her neck that flare out every so often. And her hair – it looks, at first glance, like seaweed, but the strands seem to move every so often in a way that suggests… Emily cuts the thought off there and tears her eyes away."Mother." She says again, this time with an edge to her voice.
"Fine, fine." Captain Swann concedes airily. "I only thought you'd like to know I'm proud of you."
"Thank you. Now, what can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for something. I've reason to believe you have it."
"What could I possibly have that you would need?" Emily asks, growing even warier.
"A compass. Small little trinket, seems worthless at first glance, but I'm sure you know all about it."
"Compass. Uncle's compass?" Emily's brows furrow as she quite possibly imitates her father's favorite confused expression. "Why would you think I have it?"
Her mother's eyes narrow a fraction as she strolls forward a few steps. "Because I've already spoken to your 'Uncle', and he does not."
Alex does not, apparently, like Captain Swann's tone or the look she's giving Emily, because his hand goes to his sword. Emily glances at him and places her hand over his soothingly, hoping to keep him from doing anything stupid. She feels her own fear and worry subsiding a fraction. If the compass is all this is about then she's nothing to worry about, as she doesn't have it. "I know for a fact that Uncle's had a number of interesting adventures over the past few years, he could have lost it anywhere along the way. I can assure you, I don't have it."
Captain Swann isn't looking at Emily anymore; she's looking at Emily's hand placed over Alex's. Her expression is odd, hinting at something like anger. Or, perhaps, jealousy? Emily isn't sure, but pulls her hand away, unsettled.
"And I suppose," her mother goes on, tone pleasant and airy again, "you'd have no reason to lie. Even considering what this compass could help lead you to."
Emily's men are getting antsy, unsure of what to make of all this. Emily schools her expression, making it as unreadable as possible. "I've no idea what you're talking about, mother. I have, at the moment, all I could possibly think to want."
"Ah yes. Your own ship," her mother eyes Alex, "and crew." She reaches out to breezes a hand over the necklace around Emily's neck, her touch sending a chill down Emily's spine. "A few lovely bits of shine. No reason for a compass that could point you straight towards anything else you should find yourself wanting. Daddy dearest, for instance?"
How could Captain Swann possibly even know Emily was planning to rescue her father? Emily decides the conversation is over. "No reason at all. If that's all, mother. We have just taken down a rather large ship, I'm sure we've left you plenty of poor souls to terrorize." Her mother's eyes narrow at her again, and Emily resists the urge to literally slap herself as the deck turns even more eerily silent if that were possible. Stupid, stupid, stupid… Why is it so hard to keep your mouth shut?
Thankfully, her mother quickly changes her tune, suddenly looking more amused than anything else. "There's the fire I've been hearing of. You're becoming quite the infamous little thing yourself, you know, even among the dead. I can see why. Very well, if you say you don't have the compass, I'll be on my way." She glances at Alex again. "Do take care, dear." And then she is gone as simply as she had come.
The deck of the Queen remains pin drop quiet as the Dutchman turns halfway about and then sinks slowly below the water and is gone as easily as it's captain. And then, giving everyone one last fright for the night, Jo Gibbs burst into a fit of almost hysterical giggles.
"All of that." She gasps out when everyone, including Emily and Alex, turn to stare at her as though she's mad. "All of that for that – that stupid broken compass? I – I can't believe…"
"Jo?" Emily asks cautiously. "What the hell are you going on about?"
The older woman takes a moment to gather herself a bit and shakes her head. "Forgive me, Cap'n. Perhaps I'd best explain later."
Emily turns to Alex, wondering if he has any idea, but he only gives her a weary shrug. Deciding she's too tired to ask, she turns her back to Jo and addresses her crew. "Alright, gents, it seems we're safe for now. I'll answer the questions I'm sure you have tomorrow morning." She feels far too much a mess to do so now. Noting that the Queen seems, miraculously, to have fared well enough that any repairs can wait the few hours until dawn, she sends the crew off to sleep.
Which is about when Alex drags her back to her cabin. Their cabin? It might as well be, she thinks as she follows him gingerly. She knows him well enough to know she won't be getting any rest until she's done the explaining she'd promised him, and she's not looking forward to this. She contemplates refusing to explain and kicking him out of her cabin for the night if he doesn't like it. That's what Peg would do. But Emily looks at him, sees the worry he's trying not to show, and just can't.
"Must we do this now?" She asks him wearily when he sits on her bed – their bed? It sounds odd somehow, as whatever they have is still infuriatingly undefinable, but it might as well be theirs, as he sleeps in it with her at night – and makes himself comfortable.
"I know you. If I don't make ye do this now, ye'll just find another excuse to avoid it later."
She sits down next to him, and then curls into him, her head resting on his shoulder. "Are you sure you want to know? Believe me, knowing isn't always so wonderful a thing."
He pauses, a hand coming up to work her hair out of its braid so he can run a soothing hand through it. "Was this vision really so terrible?"
She doesn't answer, but her silence, she knows, will speak volumes to him.
"Ye know… ye don't have to do it all on your own." He pulls her chin up gently so he's looking right into her eyes. "This crew of yers is a fair bit more loyal than I'd have expected. And ye have Jo." He leans down to place a kiss on her lips. "And me."
"I know. I just…"
"Just what? Tell me." He demands.
Emily shakes her head. "Make me." Snaking a hand up to rest on his neck, she pulls him forward for another kiss, and he obliges her. And this time, when he deepens the kiss and she goes to take off his vest for him – it's different. Because there are no interruptions. Neither of them are drunk. And they take it slow. Her hands are shaky, nervous, she doesn't entirely know what's she's doing, but his are sure and steady as he removes her corset and tangles them in her hair. His shirt is the next to go, and she pulls back to take him in, and excitement begins to take hold of her, because she recognizes those new tattoos – the anchor and chain on his arm, a typical tattoo for a sailor, and the one on his stomach, script of some kind, she's not half interested in asking about it at the moment. And then there is the small gold earring in his ear that she'd already noted, the way his own hair is longer and tied back in a braid.
Just like in the dream she'd had, months and months earlier. Could it be…
He moves down, his fingers trailing across the fabric of her shirt and then her breeches, down her left leg… He pauses, looking up at her, silently asking permission as his hand hovers over the first of the straps holding her leg brace up. She gives a hesitant nod, and his fingers slowly begin unbuckling the straps, pausing after each of them to gently message the areas of her leg. She breathes deeply, watching him with mixed feelings. Something about the simple act of letting him remove it for her seems every bit as intimate on its own as what their getting ready to do. The wooden peg is slowly, strangely, becoming a rather large part of who she is, and she usually makes sure her leg is beneath the covers and out of sight before he comes to slip into the bed next to her. No one, not even Jo, has really seen her without it since she first lost her leg.
He sets it aside when he's done, and she sits before him feeling already naked. Not Captain Turner. Not Peg. Just – Emily.
He comes back up to kiss her again, then murmur against her lips. "There ye are."
"Here I am." She says back meekly. "Suppose I'm not much without it, really. Just – me."
He shakes his head as his hands travel down to untuck and remove her shirt. "I've always thought just Emily was pretty remarkable on 'er own."
She kisses him again instead of responding. He breaks it only to trail feather light kisses along her jaw, down her neck, and further down until… oh.
…
The sky is just beginning to brighten with the approach of dawn when Emily speaks again. She is curled in to Alex, her head resting comfortably on his still bare chest, his arm curled around her with his thumb rubbing gentle circles into her arm.
"It's the same dream every night. Sort of." She can feel him shift a bit, worried eyes looking down at her. "It's always me and mother, fighting over – well, I'm not exactly sure, but it has to do with the Chest."
"Chest?" Alex interrupts softly.
"The chest with her heart inside. Dead Man's Chest." She clarifies, snuggling closer to him as the sound of the beating thing echoes hauntingly in her ears. "I think… I think sometimes we're on an island, this tiny spit of land that barely qualifies. I can't remember that one as well. I just know it doesn't end the same. But it's the other one…" She begins tracing absent patterns across his chest with her fingers. "We're on the Dutchman. And it's different. She's stronger, maybe, or I'm weaker or too afraid. And she's so cold about it…" She tries to keep going. Really, she knows she should tell him the whole truth. But she just can't get the words out. "I don't know. She's not my mother anymore. I just get this feeling, if we're on the Dutchman, it's all over. There's no getting my mother back, that's just it."
He doesn't answer right away, only holding her tighter as he places a kiss atop her head. "I s'ppose, if all else fails," he says slowly after a moment, "we'll just have to make sure this fight doesn't 'appen on the Dutchman."
Emily lets out a soft, humorless laugh. "You make it sound so simple."
"Well, it is. Surely ye don't think I'm gonna let ye end up on that ship with that slimy ol' hag if there's even 'alf a chance it won't somehow end in your favor. She could kill ye. Or worse."
She sits up to look at him. "For all I know that's just how it's supposed to…"
"I won't believe that." He cuts her off firmly. "There's more to it than that, there always is with yer visions." He seems to think a moment and she can almost see the wheels turning in his really rather brilliant mind. He props himself up on one arm to face her better. "What would ye want with the 'eart? Ye haven't said anythin about it before now."
"There was an idea or two involving it." Emily admits. "But they were half-formed plans at best and I wasn't serious about it. None of the options surrounding it see us coming out on top. And being able to live with ourselves, that is."
He raises his eyebrows at that. "Maybe we won't 'ave much choice."
"I don't even know where the thing is buried."
"Why else would she 'ave been askin about Dad's compass? Somethin's got 'er just as nervous as you, I'd say."
"Even in that case, my mother's disembodied heart is hardly what I want most right now." Emily waves him off.
"Ah, ye'd have to think like a Sparrow on this one. What do ye want? To find yer papa I'd s'ppose, only ye have a map for that, and I'm not sure the compass would point to any worlds beyond this one."
She smiles a bit flirtily. "Next on that list would have been you, but I should think you've very well taken care of that now, thanks very much."
He gives her his most roguish grin in response, pulling her closer with a hand on her waist to give her a kiss. "T'was me genuine pleasure, darling."
She smiles against his lips, giggling. "Oh, I'm sure."
A thought seems to strike him and he pulls away a bit, playfully holding a hand over his heart. "Do ye mean to say I wasn't at the very top of the list? Ye wound me, dearie."
Now she rolls his eyes. "I daresay I've had other things on my mind, how to deal with my mother for one."
"'old up." He pauses, abruptly getting serious again, his expression a perfect imitation of his father's during an 'aha' moment. "That's not a bad idea, that is."
"What?"
"The 'eart. Whoever 'as it would 'ave control of the seas, right? The power to force yer mum's 'and?"
"Alex…"
"What ye want most is to bring your mother back, the way ye remember 'er. If the 'eart could somehow 'elp make that 'appen…"
"I can't actually fathom how the heart would help with that. And, besides that, having that pretty little chest will do us no good if we don't have the key that unlocks it, Alex, how do you propose we'd get our hands on that, hmm?"
He pauses, grimacing. "Damn."
"Mhm. It's not worth it."
"S'ppose if we 'ad someone to go in and get it for us…"
"I already said. No scenario involving the heart sees us coming out on top and being able to live with ourselves afterwards. If mother were to get her claws into whoever we sent… I wouldn't wish that fate on anyone."
"Anyone? Not even an officer from a Company ship?" That – gets her thinking, actually. Alex goes on. "The Captain that 'appens to be pacing about in a cell in our brig right now, for instance."
Emily sighs, running a hand through her hair, uncertain. "I don't know."
Alex holds up his hands. "Food for thought, is all, dearie. It sounds as though we 'ave some time to figure it out."
Emily nods. "My dreams do suggest we have until mother's one day on land, and that's months away still. If I keep having that same dream until then, though… goddess, I mean I'm already going half mad."
Alex lays back down and pulls her down to lay next to him. She curls into him again as a yawn escapes her lips as if on cue. "Just know, no matter what 'appens, ye're goin to be fine." He says.
"How do you know." She asks, somewhat sleepily now.
"Because I won't 'ave any other way." He murmurs back, his voice soft but so firm it worries her a bit. She's exhausted after all the night's events, though, and before she can think on it too much – she is sound asleep.
…
"Why didn't you tell me about this before?" Emily exclaims the next morning as Jo holds out a small and rather beat up wooden object, the coveted and deceptively broken compass.
They are in Emily's cabin. Emily is wearing only her own knickers and Alex's shirt, which she'd mischievously snatched up in their haste to dress when Jo had come to wake them. Jo keeps glancing down at it with the most quizzical look, as if trying to decide whether that means what she probably hopes it does. Emily is attempting to act as normal as possible, if only because she enjoys keeping the older woman on her toes.
"Well, I didn't know what it was, now did I? My father handed it off to me just before disappearing after your little adventure with the Fountain. Told me to keep it safe because 'one never knows when it might come in handy', but didn't have time to explain beyond that."
Emily takes the compass and turns it over in her fingers a bit. "I suppose it's really rather lucky that you did. If I'd known about it last night I'd have had to lie to mother and it might not have gone so well."
"So does it really do what your mother said? Not that I would be entirely shocked if it did, it's just it doesn't seem to point to anything in particular for me."
Emily glances at Alex, who is leaning against her desk casually. He looks perfectly unperturbed with his own magnificently shirtless state, but he does appear to be rather preoccupied with Emily – particularly, the almost scandalous amount of skin that's exposed by the way she's allowed his shirt to slip off her shoulder. "Well, what say we show her?" She tosses the compass to him. He only just manages to catch it, startled.
"What?" He asks blankly, glancing down at the object as though he's not quite sure how it ended up in his hand.
Emily smirks, reaching up to gather her dark waves in her hands and bring them forward to spill over her shoulder to tease him further, remembering he said he likes her hair when its loose. "Just open the compass, dearie." She imitates him in that playful way she sometimes does.
"Oh." He shrugs a bit and does as she'd asked, his brows furrowing in confusion until he inspects the compass a bit further, and then glares at her. "S'pointin to you, of course. Don't know what else it'd be pointin too with the way –," he mumbles a bit under his breath, then clears his throat, "I am going to need me shirt, ye know, darling."
"Well. It certainly does work then." Jo says, not at all bothered by this. And then her eyes narrow suspiciously as she looks at Emily, then Alex, then Emily again, hands coming to rest on her hips. "You know, I'm beginning to get the idea the only thing the pair of you probably did not do last night was sleep."
Alex pushes off the desk and comes up to wrap his arms around Emily as she blushes deeply – and imitates his trouble grin in an effort to cover it up. "Well. As sleepless nights go…" She answers as he kisses her neck. "… I certainly would not mind a repeat of last night."
Jo places a hand over her heart and fans herself with the other, pretending to be perfectly scandalized. "Honestly, you two. You've not shame at all." Her tone is playful.
"Pirate." Emily and Alex reply in unison, and then break into laughter as Jo drops the act in favor of rolling her eyes as she leaves.
Alex runs a hand over the exposed skin of her shoulder and down her arm, murmuring in her ear. "The shirt, dearie?"
"I should keep it." She replies airily, turning to him and running her hands over his chest. "I certainly don't mind the view without it."
He breaks into laughter again. "Well, if that be the way ye want to go, I suppose I'll have to take all ye're shirts as well." She raises her eyebrows, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of her mouth and his eyes widen a bit. "No, no, that – that was not a challenge, darling, just..."
"Ah, but that might be interesting, though." She slips his shirt off and hands it to him, as unabashed as she had been the first time she'd stood this way before him.
"Interesting?" He stares at her as she begins redressing, shaking his head in that way that he does when he simply doesn't know what to do with her. "And people say I'm the one who's 'alf mad."
"Alright, gents." Emily calls out from just beside the helm later that afternoon after gathering her crew on deck. "I have long put off explaining what I am about to, but the visit we were paid last night has left me no choice but to do so now. As you were good enough to give me a chance as your captain, I intend to give you nothing but the truth now in return." And, so calm that she surprises even herself a bit, Emily goes on to explain everything about just who she is. She explains about her mother in as much detail as she thinks necessary, and briefly about the Admiral and why the Company might be after her. She explains about some of what her goddess has told her – the easiest of all the explanations, as they already know about her and Jo being blessed. And then, finally, she explains about the journey she intends to attempt in hopes of saving her father, being sure to add in that her goddess had clearly stated they would need Will Turner if her mother was to ever be reasoned with. She is not interrupted once, the men before her listening so intently that she's not sure what to make of it exactly. When she's finally finished, she pauses to take a breath before going on, a little shakier as she prepares to take a very serious chance. "Now. I have heard stories of the journey my parents took to Worlds End, but as I was quite small at the time, the details were left rather vague. Which is to say, I've scarcely a better idea of what would await us on our journey than the rest of you would." Pausing again, she surveys the men before her. "As such, I'm offering you a choice. We will need to stop off at Tortuga for supplies. Any one of you that decides to leave at that time may do so without need of an explanation."
This is enough to get them talking amongst themselves. Emily stands patiently for what seems an eternity, allowing them a moment to take in all she's just said. She is just about inform them of how she intends to go about this – she had thought to retreat to her cabin and allow them some time to decide in peace so she could come back and have an idea of how many, if any, she would have left to work with – when none other than Jo Gibbs makes her way to the front of the group with Alex at her side, and the men quiet down again. Surprised, Emily stays silent.
"Cap'n, I think I can speak for a fair few of the boys here when I say that we aren't going anywhere." Jo says. "I hear plenty of this Admiral and this fleet he's supposedly building, and if any of that talk is true then we're running out of options again. Personally, if I'm to take chances with anyone, I'd prefer it be you."
There is a pause, and a rather terrifying one at that, for Emily at least. But then, slowly, the majority of the crew begins calling out their agreement. A little overwhelmed by the unexpected amount of support, it takes her several moments to remember how to speak. "Right." She manages. "Well. I thank you kindly for that. Hopefully my goddess will be kind enough to bring us all back in one peace." Clearing her throat and affecting a tone that is more lady pirate Peg than somewhat insecure Emily, she claps her hands together. "Now that's settled for the moment at least, I believe I promised a reward for your work last night." This is met with cheers. Taking out a key that had been tied to her belt, she hands it off to Jo. "Miss Gibbs, the rum, if you please."
Remembering the box that she'd taken from the captain of the Company ship, Emily asks Jo try and keep an eye on things before disappearing to her cabin. She remembers the conversation she'd had with the Company ship's captain when she'd finally found him, hauled up in his cabin as he searched frantically through the papers encased in the box.
"You're ships about to be sunk by another half its size and you're more concerned with a bunch of papers? I'd say someone's priorities are in desperate need of rearranging."
He'd frozen briefly, his hands clutching the box almost as if he were clinging to a lifeline. Turning to her slowly, his eyes immediately darted down to her leg before traveling back up to meet her own. "This 'bunch of papers', Captain Turner, as it happens, could be your saving grace as well as they could now be mine."
"Saving grace? Is it amnesty I'm to be granted?" She'd asked with a snort.
"I'll be happy to discuss it with you just as soon as we are no longer in danger of going down with my ship." He'd replied with mock pleasantry.
Whatever the papers were all about, she highly doubted they would be of any actual interest to her. However, she'd decided to grab the box anyway. And now, here she was. Taking out the papers and thinking she is now exceedingly grateful she'd taken the time to better teach herself to read, she begins doing just that.
It doesn't take long for her to at least skim through all of them – and to decide that her new friends down in the brig needed to be paid a visit, very, very soon.
…
"You give the rest of us permission to have a bit of fun only so you can come down here and – what exactly are you doing?"
Emily looks up to find Jo standing in the doorway, a no-longer-quite-full bottle of rum clutched loosely in one hand, the other resting on her hip. "I had a bit of reading to do." Emily holds up the papers she's been looking over. "The Admiral is either a complete idiot – or a genius. I'm actually finding it hard to decide."
Jo lifts an eyebrow as she crosses the room to sit on the desk, reaching for the paper in Emily's hand. Emily trades her for the rum, which she takes a drink of without her usual second thought.
Jo's eyes widen the further she reads. "Genius." She decides for Emily. "Granted, if you were a man, I'd say idiot, but since you aren't…"
"I know." Emily looks down at the other two documents set out before her. "He must be some kind of desperate if he's willing… but why would he be? This only gives me more questions to ask."
"Well, you do have two strapping young officers and a Captain sitting down in the brig just waiting for you to ask them."
"Aye, only I'm not sure how to go about actually dealing with them. We've never taken captives before."
"I don't suppose our goddess…"
"All I've gotten from our goddess for weeks now is the same two dreams and they're no help at all so far." Emily takes another drink of rum.
Jo eyes her. "You know, I'd like to think you were planning to tell me about these dreams, eventually."
"Are you giving me a choice now?"
"No."
"Of course not." And, somewhat begrudgingly, Emily tells her. She's careful to make sure she gives the older woman the same story she'd given Alex. She feels bad for holding back the truth, to either of them, and almost wishes she hadn't with Alex, but now that she has, there's not much she can do. Jo wouldn't be too bothered by it. She'd understand how disturbing visions could be and would leave it at that. But Alex – Emily feels that whatever she has with him is too shaky. Even after the night they'd just spent together, they aren't quite sure what to do with each other anymore. Admitting to a sort-of-lie would only make it worse.
She indulges in another sip of rum when she's finished. Sometimes, she isn't even sure what to do with herself.
"So you really had no idea what last night was all about, then?"
"None." At least that isn't at all a lie.
"And that's all there is to the vision. You and you're mother fight and then… nothing. You don't know how it ends?"
Emily only shakes her head, staring at the bottle on the desk before her. Jo is silent for a long moment, so long that Emily begins to worry the older woman doesn't believe her and is about to say so.
"Alright. I've had no visions at all these past weeks, I only hope we haven't angered our goddess somehow."
"If we did, it'd be nice if she'd simply tell us how."
"She's never so direct, in case you hadn't noticed. For now, it seems we're on our own." Jo stands. "You can keep the bottle if you'd like." Emily nods, and Jo doesn't comment on it as she goes on. "I'll make sure we're on course for Tortuga, then, shall I?"
Emily only nods again, distracted. Jo leaves, quietly shutting the door behind her.
"Well?" Alex asks in hushed tones as Jo quietly makes her way toward him.
Jo steals a glance back at Emily's door and pulls him down to the very end of the hall. "You're right. There's something she's not telling us."
"She took the bottle?"
Jo nods. "Whatever it is, it's serious. Why didn't you ask her last night? If you knew she was holding something back…"
"I didn't know. I don't know her anymore." He paused. Emily trusted Jo, possibly more than she did even him. "Why don't ye say something?"
"This is ridiculous." Jo grumbles in response. "Whatever she's not telling us, I'm sure she has a good reason."
"Are you?" He hopes she won't hesitate in saying yes. He wasn't around the past year. Jo knew Peg whereas he only knew Emily. He couldn't be sure of anything anymore.
"I trust Peg. She says she doesn't know what's going on any more than we do. We're better off just leaving it at that for now." And with that, Jo leaves him.
Alex slips quietly back down the hall to stand before Emily's door, one hand coming up to knock… and then dropping down to the handle, thinking the cabin might as well be his now as well… and then drops it back to his side in frustration. Yes, he decides, his dad definitely has things figured best when it comes to women. But Alex just can't bring himself to work with that mentality, not with Emily Turner. He hears the rest of the crew up on deck, laughing and talking and drinking, and decides to rejoin them instead.
Not much to stay about this one. Reviews would be nice, but you're still reading, so I'll take that as a good sign and just keep doing what I'm doing. :)