"Are you sure this'll take us to Adrienne?" Emily eyes the compass in Jo's hands.

"I had a dream last night… believe me. All I want right now is a conversation with her." Jo opens the compass and seems to let out a breath when it's already fixed on a single direction.

It never manages to do that for Emily. "Am I allowed to ask what this dream involved?" She asks, unable to resist her own curiosity.

"You'd ask whether I said yes or not."

"But if you don't want to tell me..."

"I don't particularly."

Emily shrugs. "On the wheel then, Ms. Gibbs."

Jo's hazel eyes send her a clear thank you before she goes off to do just that.

...

"Both pistols, your sword, and two daggers." Jo raises an eyebrow as she watches Emily take out the mentioned items. "Bit much, maybe, don't you think?"

It's taken them only two days to find the Queen Anne's Revenge; the compass really had been leading them straight to it. It's coming up just over the horizon now, and Emily's decided she's not in the mood to take chances. Jo just thinks she's being a bit paranoid.

"When it comes to letting Adrienne Barbossa within reach of Alex?" Emily reaches down to strap the sheath for one of the daggers to her leg where it will be covered by her boot. "I see how his eyes still wander sometimes, even with me on his arm, and he can never resist flirting." She pauses, shaking her head. "She gets anywhere near him and I swear…"

Jo eyes the second dagger as Emily tucks it into a hidden pocket of her corset – added, presumably, for just this purpose. "Last I checked she wouldn't even have known to cock a pistol before trying to shoot it. She can't be that bad."

"When's the last time you've seen her?" Emily asks, scowling as she straps on her sword and tucks her two pistols into her belt as well. "Because last I did, she nearly ran me through with a sword. Granted I was half delirious from blood loss and barely able to walk at the time, but I won't be caught off guard if she ever tries that again."

Jo only shakes her head. "I'll believe it when I see it."

…

The funny thing is, she thinks she knows exactly how this will go. She remembers Adrienne being more the damsel in distress, the pompous little French girl traipsing through the jungle in her skirts and raising a sword only when Emily was obviously on the verge of collapsing anyway. She thinks she'll get to flaunt Alex and the fact that she's captain. She'll have to watch Jo's back, maybe, but that shouldn't be difficult and Jo'll have her little talk and get whatever it is she's looking for and that'll be that.

What actually happens is… not that simple, and certainly a bit stranger.

The encounter gets off to a normal enough start. Emily signals a greeting to the other ship, lets them know a talk is all the Queen is looking for. The formalities are taken care of quick and easy; a plank is set up connecting the two ships. A very nervous Jo is hiding up by the helm – armed, somewhat unusually, with a sword that Emily wasn't quite aware the older woman would know how to use. And that's about when any expectations get thrown out the window. Because Emily, it seems, forgot to take into account that it's been near on to two years now. And really, she should know better than anyone how much can change in all that time.

Adrienne Barbossa could very well be the captain of the other ship for all that the men on it are quick to get out of her way. She strolls across the plank with the usual, perfectly unnatural (at least in Emily's opinion) amount of grace. And somehow, even now, Emily feels no less inadequate than she did the last time she saw the other girl. Adrienne isn't wearing a dress, but the outfit she is wearing is still prettier and more elaborate than Emily would ever bother with; a full, finely embroidered corset beneath a very French blue frock coat, with the ruffles of a white chemise visible at the sleeves. There's also a hat. Wide brimmed and feathered, matching the color of her coat. And all that isn't even the worst part. No, the worst is the short sword resting comfortably at her hip. Oh dear.

Apparently she remains frozen in place a little too long for Alex's liking, because he strolls forward when she doesn't. "Adrienne."

"Alex."

There's a bit of a pause, during which Alex seems to give Adrienne (another) look over. "Is it possible ye've only grown more beautiful since the last time I saw ye?" And he really can't resist can he?

"Well, I suppose so if you feel the need to point it out." She matches his smile and seems to take the compliment as the invitation even Emily has to admit it sounds like; strolling forward, she reaches up and pulls Alex down to her level by his shirt, planting a kiss on one of his cheeks, then the othere. "Does that mean you missed me, ma chérie?"

And this is about when Emily remembers that she's not Emily anymore, she's Peg and Peg already wants to put a bullet in Adrienne's skull. But she decides to play this a little differently. Because, as always, though she sometimes wishes things could be different, they are pirates. Alex can do what he wants. Crossing her arms, she clears her throat.

Adrienne turns to her, looking amused. "Capitaine." She slips past Alex to greet Emily properly, her eyes sweeping over the deck of the Queen a bit before landing on its captain. "Très impressionnant. Your ship is lovely. I would enjoy hearing about how you came to possess it."

Emily strains to be as pleasant in her response. "That she is. Perhaps I'll tell you sometime." Something catches Emily's eye; a scar. Adrienne has a very visible scar, just on her jawbone. The kind one might receive from a knife or a sword. It's not much. But there's nothing ladylike about a scar in so prominent a place. It calms her a little, somehow. Adrienne Barbossa is not so perfect and proper as she had once pretended. "I'm afraid a friendly chat is not what we're here for now, however."

"As I'd already guessed." She glances back at Alex. "Time enough for that later, perhaps? In any case, I am here now. What can I do for you?"

You can stay far, far away from Alex Sparrow. But Emily doesn't even glance in Alex's direction. "You can promise to leave that blade of yours right where it is, first of all."

Brows raising, Adrienne glances down at the weapon in question. "You imply that I'll be needing it?"

Emily shakes her head. "I'm only trying to ensure that we can act civilized."

"We? Comme c'est intéressant. Now you have me very curious indeed. Very well, you have my word, for whatever it is worth to you."

It's not worth much at all, but Emily doesn't bother to question it. "Right then. Jo!" She calls up to the helm. "Best get this over with."

A long moment passes and then Jo slowly makes her way down from the helm, looking determined. Adrienne's reaction is instantaneous – her eyes widen as she begins muttering in rapid French, swearing fiercely if her tone is anything to go by.

Jo crosses her arms, and if she can understand the other woman, she doesn't look impressed. "It's nice to see you too, Addy."

Adrienne's hand shoots to her sword. Jo follows suit all too quickly. Alex steps forward, ready to come between the two women.

"Easy, now! Civilized! Adrienne, I would think you of all people could manage that!" Emily interjects quickly.

"Civil-…" Adrienne breaks off, apparently incredulous. "Capitaine, I would be doing you a favor if I cut off this traitorous slatterns head and threw it to the fish!"

"Yes, well, whatever else you think she is, she's also my first mate, so perhaps you'd be kind enough to give me an explanation before you do so? Both of you?" Neither moves, or even acknowledges that Emily spoke again. Tone turning more commanding, she tries again. "Jo. My cabin. That's an order. Or I can throw you both in my brig and you can work it out there."

Another long moment passes, and Jo finally nods. "Aye, Cap'n."

Adrienne still seems all too eager to draw her sword. Emily thinks she should've made the older woman give it up, but doing so now will only cause more unneeded conflict, so instead she just gestures for Alex and her papa to follow. Leading them all down to her cabin, she slips inside with Adrienne and Jo, leaving the two men outside the closed door just in case.

Leaning against her desk with her arms crossed, she eyes the two women as they stand glaring at each other. "Well?"

"You address her as though she is a friend." Adrienne finally spits out. "Did she not tell you why I would wish for nothing more than to see her dead? This sorcière cruelle stole away my fiancé and left me with nothing!"

"You act as though it was my intention to…" Jo stutters.

"Oh, do not act as though you didn't know! I told you why my mother insisted I marry him! But of course, you just could not resist, could you? And just when I thought I could learn to love him!"

"Oh, yes, I knew very well why she insisted." Anger seeps into Jo's voice now, fiery hot where Adrienne's is sharp and cold. "And I know why you went along with it, and it had nothing to do with love. Totty-headed little daughter of a fine French lady whore. You thought you could marry him and not have to worry about all the money your mother frittered away so carelessly!"

"Well, it hardly served you any better, running off with him, did it? Here we both are! What happened? Did you tire of him, was it too easy having your every need managed so well?"

"That's not – Addy, you don't understand. I didn't either. He was…" Jo turns to Emily abruptly. "It's all connected, Peg. I haven't said because I still don't know how or why, but it's all connected. My husband, Nathaniel, he wasn't interested in me or Addy. He was interested in our fathers. Addy didn't know anything about hers in the beginning; I suppose when he realized that he settled for me because I not only knew mine, but received letters from him."

Adrienne scoffs. "And why, pray tell, would an honest, wealthy merchants son have been interested in any of that?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you, blast it all! He was working for the Admiral!"

This actually gives Adrienne pause. Her brows furrow in confusion. "The Admiral? The man in charge of the East India Company?"

Emily, silent up to this point as she doesn't want to get in the middle of whatever's going on, raises both brows. "You've heard of him?"

"En effet. Sort of, anyway. The capitaines of the last few ships we have raided have been raving about him."

"Well." Emily sighs. "Apparently this web he's trying so hard to catch me in is even more tangled that I thought. Good goddess, why must we always end up with more questions than answers?"

Jo, looking determined now, plants her hands on her hips in that way that suggests she's had enough and glares at Adrienne. "Now look here, arguing over what's done and over with isn't going to get us anywhere, and none of this seems to have anything to do with you anymore, anyway." She softens a touch. "I'm not sorry for following my heart, even if I was wrong, but I am sorry for all the trouble it seems to have caused you."

Adrienne relaxes a fraction. "I admit that is more than I would've expected." She shoots Jo another icy glare. "Although it changes nothing. I'll still have your head. But. Since you have so thoroughly piqued my interest." She turns to Emily. "I can only assume you did not go through the trouble of chasing my papa's ship down just for this."

"No. Actually, I'm not entirely sure I know why we went through the trouble of chasing you down. Jo hasn't yet see fit to explain that to me either."

Jo shoots her an apologetic look. "Alex didn't like it. I was worried you wouldn't either."

Adrienne's face alights with realization. "Ah. Your books."

Jo glances at her and nods, a little sheepish. "My books."

There are just two of them, but they are both thick, massive old tomes, bound in thick leather and near falling apart. Jo takes care with the one as she begins flipping through its pages, eyes sweeping quickly over each page as she looks for – something very specific, apparently.

Emily comes up to peer just over the shorter woman's shoulder. The books are, oddly, in both Spanish and English, or at least, the one Jo's looking through is, but there are strange drawings coating the edges of every page. "What is all this?"

"Magic." She replies. "Very old magic."

"Magic?" Emily's brows furrow. "What do you mean, 'magic'?"

Jo pauses briefly at a page depicting a strange doll – or, rather, the stages of making one. "I mean magic. It's difficult to explain. There's much I don't understand. I'd only just got to the age where my mother could begin teaching me proper when she passed on."

"I don't understand. You mean to say your mother was some sort of witch?"

Jo shrugs. "I can think of no better description, but it goes a bit deeper than that. The ability to do what she did – what she said I could do, as well – was granted by our goddess." She pauses, turning to Emily. "She told me it was a gift granted to all those blessed by our goddess, in fact."

Emily snorts, shaking her head. "I think we'd know if I were capable of anything like that."

Jo shakes her head. "That's just the problem. You would know. Magic is a rather temperamental thing. It's all from the heart, triggered by emotion. Control is learned easy enough, but it does have to be learned. I've thought for some time now there should have been all manner of strange happenings around you with your temper."

"Well." Emily isn't quite sure what to do with this information. "Suppose it's a good thing I don't seem to have it then."

"Perhaps." Jo replies, with the air of someone who knows more than she's letting on. She turns back to the book. "Anyway, that's not what's important here."

Being rather clueless about all of this, Emily decides to allow the subject change. "I'm almost afraid to ask what is, then."

Jo begins flipping through the pages again. "If you're willing to keep a very, very open mind, I might be able to help with your mother."

"More open a mind than it takes to deal with my mother's existence in the first place?" Emily starts looking over the other book, curious.

"Point taken. And be careful with that! You've no idea how old these are."

Emily rolls her eyes as she takes her hands back and crosses her arms. "So what is it you think you can do?"

"I remember somewhere in one of these… where was it?" She sighs in frustration. "Oh, I can't remember. You'll have to give me time, it could take ages to go through them both. But if I'm right, somewhere in these books is a spell that… oh, how to explain?"

"Jo. Can you just spit it out?"

"It deals with the idea that there are two sides to every person. Good and evil, light and dark, that sort of thing. If done right, it's supposed to allow you to talk to the other side of yourself, the idea presumably being to turn evil back into good. It's not that simple of course, I know how it sounds. I'm really not sure of what actually happens, assuming it'll do anything at all. But I know you're still clinging to the hope that your mother still exists somewhere within that strange, undead snake woman. And – our goddess said we'd need your father to bring her back if that's possible. So…" She trails off, looking sheepish, as though this must sound very silly.

It takes Emily a moment, but the puzzle pieces begin to fit themselves together. "If we can cast this spell of yours, assuming of course there really is anything of my mother left, and then have my father there to talk to her if it works…" Hope. Does she dare? "What would we need to do?"

"I can't entirely remember. As I said, I'll need to look through these books. But Peg – there's one thing I do remember."

"I'm not going to like it, am I?"

Jo shakes her head. "This is a powerful spell. And powerful spells, well, most require particular items. Usually objects of value. If we want to be sure this will work, we'd need something of your mothers. Her most valuable possession."

Emily's shoulders slump as she leans back against her desk again. "Her heart. Oh goddess, that's what it's all about. Those awful dreams. I need the heart if I'm to fix this."

"How long until your mother's one day again?"

"Little more than a month, now."

For a moment they just stare at each other. Finally, Jo shakes her head, turning back to the desk with a determined air. "We'd best get to figuring this out then. I'll start looking through these books. I know it's in here somewhere." Emily pushes off the desk abruptly, crossing the room with determined strides. "Where are you going?"

"To talk to my papa. It's about time I explain all of this to him."

"Funny she did not say anything about you, no?" That voice. Even her voice is the opposite of Emily's, high and chiming like tinkling bells where his little captain's is naturally an easy alto.

He freezes a moment, caught off guard, but then slowly continues to tie off the rope he'd been working with. He turns to watch her stroll forward the last few steps across the deck, coming to stand a little too close for comfort, but he doesn't move away. "Beg pardon?"

"Emily – ah, pardonnez-moi. Capitaine Turner said nothing of our little exchange earlier."

He's careful about choosing his next words. "Why would she 'ave?" He asks finally, trying to decide how to play this. Emily is still being stubborn, and apparently gets to spend her nights drinking and gambling with whoever's brave enough to sit with her. Although he's established that she can't get rid of him even if she tries… well, if she doesn't have to behave herself, why should he?

Adrienne eyes him, brows furrowing slightly. "I would have thought by now that you two…" He doesn't interject, holding back a smile, daring her to go on with his eyes. "Oh, do not give me that look. You know very well what I mean."

"And since when, pray tell, are you terribly concerned with Emily and what she 'as to say conernin me? Particularly after such time has passed."

She seems to think on that a moment, searching his eyes, until a smile tugs at her lips too. "I am not. Terribly concerned, that is."

"Good." He replies. "Because presently, neither am I." He reaches up to ghost a hand against her cheek, sweeping back a stray strand of her hair, noting with a vague curiosity the scar at her jaw. "I did, you know."

"Did what, ma chérie?"

"Miss ye."

The smile fully graces her lips now. "Would you like to see my papa's ship? I am certain he would not object to me showing it off."

Jo appears from below decks, carrying a rather large and very old book in her arms, just in time to watch Alex allow himself to be lead off by Adrienne. "Where do you think you're going?" She asks when it becomes obvious they're going to cross over to the other ship.

Adrienne rolls her eyes. Alex wants to feel guilty for all that Jo's tone is so overtly accusing, but he just holds up his hands, placating. "I have been offered a closer look at the lovely Queen Anne's Revenge and seeing as said offer came from its captain's very own daughter I thought it would be rude to simply say 'no'."

Jo casts Adrienne a mild glare before turning it on Alex. "Cap'n won't be happy if she finds out where you've run off to."

"The captain is a spitfire little hellcat, albeit a seductive one, and will hunt down somethin else to be unhappy about if I myself give her nothing, so in honesty, I am doin the rest of ye a service." Jo's glare turns to a scowl, but she doesn't respond, probably because he's absolutely right. "'Sides, I'll be back before she even 'as time to notice."

Jo waves him off with the hand not still holding her book, scoffing. "Oh, it's your funeral then. Don't say I didn't warn you."

It really will be his funeral one of these times, probably, but then that's what makes rattling his little captain so entertaining. Besides, it's not as though he intends to do anything but talk with Adrienne. If Emily jumps to conclusions, that's her problem, not his.

"No." He says it simply, as though she should have expected that to be his reply.

She's pulled her papa aside below decks, in the currently empty space where the crew sleeps. He's seemed calm enough listening to all she has to tell him, even when she got into the stranger details involving her goddess. He seems no less calm now, and she's not sure she quite understands.

"No." She parrots stupidly. "What do you mean no? It can't work without you."

"Your mother hates my guts. Granted she has every reason to, but the last time I saw her, she kissed me, and then threw me off her main mast with a rope around my neck. I won't be doing that again, Emily."

"If this goes the way I'm hoping it will, that won't even be an option. Papa. I'm trying to tell you we can get mother back!"

"And I'm trying to tell you she threw me in the locker!" He replies with more vehemence, a fist slamming down on the nearest table and making her jump a bit. "Emily, you don't understand. That creature isn't my wife anymore, not your mother! You'd be doing us all, her included, a favor if you stopped looking for a way to bring her back and started looking for a way to-…" He breaks off abruptly, as though he's startled himself.

"To what?" Emily says, dangerous quiet as her blood begins to simmer. "To kill her? You and I both know there's only one way to do that and who's going to take her place, then? You? Because I must admit, that's pretty high on the list of things I will not be doing, I don't care how selfish of me it is."

There's a pause, long enough to be worrying, and then two pairs of identical eyes meet as his harden. "Alex would do it. The boy would do anything if you only asked him, if he thought he'd be sparing you somehow. Would solve quite a few problems in one way or another, wouldn't it?"

She knows Alex would, which is why she would never, ever ask him to do such a thing. She hates her papa for even suggesting it, though, because her mind instantly begins racing through any and all other alternatives – anyone else she could somehow trick into it, because anyone would be better than her Alex. She searches her papa's eyes a moment, then shakes her head. "You don't mean that."

He's quiet for a moment, debating with himself maybe. He reaches for his flask, perhaps just out of some odd habit because he doesn't actually drink from it. "No. I don't. But it got you thinking, didn't it? Ready to throw anyone else to the wolves as long as it isn't him. It can do that, love can."

She glares at him, her blood fully boiling now as a sick feeling settles in the pit of her stomach, because how dare he? "Don't you dare do that. Using him against me as if I don't know…" Hot tears well up, threatening to spill over and before she can stop to think about what she's about to do her hand connects with her papa's cheek with a slap that momentarily fills the entire room. His flask falls from his hands as he stumbles back and stares at her with wide eyes. "You are a filthy, miserable cur. Sometimes I don't know why I went through the trouble of bringing you back!"

"I've wondered that very thing since you did." He replies, quiet and subdued as he rubs at his cheek. "All I seem to be good at anymore is mucking things up."

She stands and shakes and fights back the tears that she's miraculously managed to keep from spilling over so far. And she wants to keep hating him but just can't because how many times has she thought the same of herself? That all she seems to be best at is ruining anything good? She bends down to pick up the flask laying at her feet, and then slowly crosses the room to hand it to her papa. "I stole you back because you are my papa." She says quietly, feeling a bit like a little girl again as she looks up at him. "And because I believed all that time spent in the locker was more than punishment enough for anyone. I'm sorry. I suppose asking you to face mother again isn't much less cruel than the idea of asking Alex to take her place."

Her papa cups her cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that had finally spilled and was sliding down it. "You truly believe it, don't you? That this could work?" She only nods. He presses a kiss to her forehead. "Good. Hope can be as powerful as love, a smart man – woman – never lets go of either, I think. I'll do whatever you say I need to."

Allowing herself to hold onto the vulnerable feeling of being no more than twelve again, just for a moment, she throws her arms around her papa. He seems startled, but after a moment returns the embrace, and he's a good man, has always been basically a good man, and maybe this can all work out. Just maybe…

…

She is not her papa. Nor is she her mother. She is Emily Turner and Emily Turner loves Alex Sparrow so much that the thought of losing him is enough to have her thinking up a list of anyone else that could take his place, even if she knows exactly what she'd be trying to trick them into.

He loves her and she loves him back. It's really very simple. Perhaps, she decides, with her mother's one day growing ever closer and the vision she'd had of him dying, it is high time she starts acting like it.

…

"Jo!" Emily near bounces across the deck, ignoring the many strange looks she earns from her crew, looping an arm around the older woman's as she comes up alongside her. "Do you have any idea where Alex is hiding? Because I swear I'm not angry at him for that little bit with Adrienne earlier and I have something to tell him."

The sun is beginning to sink below the horizon now, and Emily's scoured the entire ship, every nook, cranny, and crevice. Alex is nowhere to be found, but he must be on the ship somewhere, because where else would he be?

Jo raises an eyebrow at her, as if wondering if her captain's lost whatever marbles she'd had to begin with. "You're glowing, like a bride on the day she's to be wed! What's got into you?"

"Nothing. Well, actually, sort of something. I mean, it's just I've realized something, and I want Alex to be the first to hear what it is, but I can't find him, though he must be around here somewhere."

Jo looks away now, but Emily knows the looks she's got on. It's the hesitant, sort-of-scowl-sort-of-grimace the older woman gets when she sees trouble coming, a look entirely unique to Jo. Emily sighs, over-dramatic. "Oh dear. What could possibly be so bad as to have earned that look?"

"I know where Alex is."

"Alright, where?"

"You were off to talk to your father."

"Yes, and?"

"I came up on deck just in time to see him."

"Jo, if you don't just tell me…"

"He was with Adrienne." She finally gets out. "She was taking him over to the Revenge. Alex said just to show him the ship." She adds hastily.

Emily has to force herself not to jump to conclusions. They're friends. She can't stop him having friends, even if it is Adrienne (but goddess how she'd like to strangle the other woman). She takes a breath to keep herself steady. "Well, alright, how long's he been gone then?"

Another pause, another scowl-grimace. "Some hours now."

Whatever was left of her good mood is shattered entirely. She lets go of Jo's arm, glancing over at the other ship, much more subdued. "It's getting dark. I suppose…he'll be back soon." Because he has her now and she's very sober and going to tell him tonight and she refuses to give up just yet.

"Course he will." Jo reassures, with the air of someone who doesn't even half believe the words coming out of her own mouth.

"How far have you got, looking through those books of yours?"

"Not very. There's a lot here to work through, I'm afraid."

"Come down to my cabin." Emily loops an arm back around Jo's again. "We can work through them both at once."

"Alright." A pause as they begin making their way below. "He loves you, you know." Jo says, this time sounding more sincere. "If nothing else, he only went with her to make you jealous. He likes firing you up."

Emily relaxes a bit, or at least, tries to seem like she does. "I know. He'll be back soon."

She repeats that over in her head until the sun has set and the stars blink into existence and Jo shuts the book she's been looking through with some frustration and heads off to bed.

…

He's not coming back at all, is he? She thinks to herself, after a good hour of sitting curled up in the window seat, Shakespeare's The Taming of the Shrew in her hands, though she hasn't actually read a single page through. She sits for another ten minutes letting this realization sink in. She spends another five cursing him and thinking he's every inch his father's son and that she absolutely doesn't blame her own father for being so wary of him.

She contemplates doing several different things as she finally tosses the book Alex had bought here aside, everything from slipping over onto the other ship just so she really can strangle Adrienne to slipping down to her own hold for a bottle she can drink herself to sleep with. She does none of these things. Peg has a better plan in mind.

Giving him a taste of his own medicine. In the form of a certain charming little Navy boy.

Bits in French:

Très impressionnant. – Very impressive
Comme c'est intéressant. – How interesting.
… sorcière cruelle … - …cruel witch…

MiniCinnamon99, I've finally got in some of those answers you were looking for! And the next chapter will have even more of them! Not all of them. But definitely some!

I have a thing for magic. I'm not sure why. But it has an odd tendency to wiggle its way into anything good that I manage to write and this story kind of lends itself to it I think. I say odd, because I did not at all intend for the story to go this way until fairly recently, but now it's kind of writing itself. Don't you love it when a story does that?

Ok, I'm done babbling now. Thanks for reading! :)