"Good morning." Emily chirrups pleasantly when she sees Alex the next day.
He hesitates in approaching her, looking wary. Good. "Good morning, love." He replies.
"Jo's got what she needs now so we'll be on our way again."
"Right. Good, that's good." He stumbles over his words a bit, pauses a moment. "Where to?"
"Shipwreck again, if you think Cap'n Teague won't mind. I'm still a little worried of Joshy, and I'm not altogether sure he wants to be here anymore anyway. I figure we can decide what to do about things there."
"Nah, granddad won't mind. Think 'e likes ye, actually. So, erm, did Jo find what she was looking for in those old books?"
Emily raises her eyebrows. "Alex."
He pails a bit. "…yes?"
"We haven't talked. I didn't mention any books just now."
He says nothing for so long she almost wants to laugh. Has she really just managed to rob a Sparrow of his speech? "Talked to Jo." He comes out with finally. "She was grumbling about them."
"Mmhmm." She didn't really expect him to just give in. In fact, she's glad of it. She's enjoying his squirming. "No, she hasn't found what she was looking for just yet, but at least we know what we're looking for. It won't be too long."
He seems to gather some courage. "Ye know, ye're right, we haven't talked. What say we go do a bit of that now. In your cabin." Trying to act as though there's nothing wrong at all. He pulls her closer and she lets him, even leans up as though to steal a kiss.
"Mmm. Tempting." She stays close a moment, her lips hovering just inches from his. "But I wouldn't want my papa to think I was breaking our deal already." She pulls away as Alex's eyes dart up to glare at something behind her. She glances back to see Riley Connelly stepping up on deck with perfect timing. "Besides. I've got other…" She pauses as if looking for the right word, turning back to Alex. "Business to attend to."
His eyes narrow at Riley as he mutters. "Business my…"
"I'm sorry, what was that?"
"Nothing, love." His eyes finally come back to rest on her. "Off ye go then."
She sends him a smirk before spinning around and leaving him where he stands.
Emily slips below with Riley. Before Alex has time to figure what exactly has just happened, an all too familiar auburn haired now-ten-year-old tears across the deck. "You have to tell Emily! She has to just let them go!"
Alex stares down at the boy blankly. "What?"
"That – that midshipmen. Connelly! I heard him and Captain Andrews talking, I think if she doesn't let them go, they're going to try something terrible, but she won't listen to me!"
"Alright, alright, easy." Alex says. "When did ye 'ear this?"
"A few nights ago now."
"Well, why didn't ye tell yer sister?" Alex scowls.
"I tried! She wouldn't listen." Joshy says, brows furrowed and fists clenched in anger. "You two fought that night and I think she was drunk and she just got angry at me."
That doesn't sound like Emily, Alex thinks, but then that's why it bothers him, her drinking. She's not herself. He's beginning to hate the vile drink as much as she had not so long. Sighing, he pulls Joshy aside and takes a knee so he's on the boys level. "Tell me, then. What exactly did ye 'ear?"
He hasn't been back in her cabin like this since that night they shared dinner. It's a little disconcerting this time around for some reason. Maybe because some part of him feels bad for all of this, the way he's trying to fool her. Which is, admittedly, ridiculous. Captain Andrew's is right. She's the enemy, the villain, the evil seductress. She's been trying to manipulate him. So…this is all just fair play? Right?
"Riley." She's gone to sit in the window seat, and gestures with a single finger for him to come to her. He strolls forward with as much confidence as he can ever seem to muster around her, sitting at the other end of the seat. She looks amused – is it just him or is that how she always looks around him, like he really is just a plaything for her – and shifts around, closing the distance he'd deliberately put between them. "I thought we were moving past all that, now. I promise I won't bite." His hand is resting on the seat next to him; she covers it with her own, tiny but callused in the way any working man's would be.
"We were." He replies, staring down at her hand. "But – if you'll forgive my being so bold, Miss Emily, I don't get the feeling my chances of survival here would be terribly helped if that – that sailor of yours thinks I've…"
"His name's Alex." She supplies for him, her free hand coming up to lift his chin so he's facing her. "And as I told you before," her hand slips down to play at the neckline of his shirt a bit, "my crew listen to me. That includes him."
"I'm sure they do, Miss Emily, but," his own hand darts up to still hers, pulling it away a bit, "well, that's – that's not the reason I wanted to speak with you."
"Is there any chance I'll ever get it down to just 'Emily'?"
"That would be, uhm, too familiar. Disrespectful."
She pulls her hand out of his and leans in, placing it on his shoulder. "Oh, I could show you disrespectful, love. Wouldn't you like that?"
The pet name, that's new. He doesn't like this. "I, uhm, I'm not…" He stutters, helpless now. She's too close. He's never felt quite this way before; been too young yet perhaps, or was just too busy trying to survive. But now she's too close, smelling of rum and the sea in a way that's so intriguing (somehow enticing) for a woman, and before he can get anything else out… her lips are covering his and what can he do, what can he do? He should push her away but if he does she'll be angry won't she? And he can't have that, he really can't, survival here is precarious enough as is (at least if Andrews is to be believed, but Riley's really not sure who he can believe anymore).
She doesn't relent even when he doesn't exactly respond. In fact, the hand that had still been covering his now takes and guides it to rest on her waist, and she certainly knows what she's doing, doesn't she? Not that he's surprised. And then she guides it up – up – up until he feels the swell of… oh, and well, may God forgive him (never mind his mother and his poor Sarah), because it's all downhill from there.
"Mmm, my dear, dear Riley, we'll make a pirate of you yet."
He paces the length of the corridor outside her (theirs, it was supposed to be theirs now) cabin, waiting for what feels like ages, hoping she'll emerge with Connelly (her precious Riley, that stupid whelp) in tow. But she doesn't. And it feels like ages. He doesn't even have to ask what they could be doing; he knows all the answers to that and it makes a rage the likes of which he has no comparison to boil up inside of him, making his blood simmer and his stomach tie itself in a sickening knot. He knows what this is. This is payback for what she thinks he did with Adrienne last night, and damn-it-all, can she make up her mind? If she wants a pirate, he'll give her a pirate, if not, she has only to tell him to… and now this! With Riley! Alex isn't usually given to being so terribly cutthroat, but right now he wants nothing more than to gut that stupid midshipmen like a fish!
Light footsteps sound down the steps and Jo emerges, looking a little tired with circles beneath her eyes and her thick raven curls held back even more haphazardly than usual. A large old book is held to her chest with crossed arms. "Alex." She stops short, eyebrow raised. "What're you doing down here?"
He storms forward, pointing back at Emily's closed door, and he has to work not to shout. "She's been with him for at least an hour now. A whole bloody hour!"
"Been with who? Alex, calm down."
"Connelly! You'd better do something!"
"Me?" She scowls irritably. "Well – why haven't you? I don't want in the middle of this!"
"Because if I go in there and find them… I'll kill him, Jo." He's not kidding. Something in his tone must tell Jo this, because her eyes widen and she nods slowly.
"Alright, alright. By the old gods, you two'll be the death of me." She huffs as she slips past him and down the corridor. "Cap'n!" She knocks on the door. "I've found what I was looking for!"
There's a pause, too long. Alex's fists clench so hard his nails dig into his palms.
"Cap'n!" Jo calls again, sounding a little more urgent.
"Coming!" Her voice finally calls out, followed promptly by the sound of her peg-legged gait. Finally she opens the door. Alex can just see her; her hair is loose and she's wearing only her shirt, untucked, and he's sorely tempted to go get her papa and tell the old man all about what a lovely little trollop his daughter is apparently becoming.
Jo's brows raise as she peers into the room beyond Emily, and Alex knows that little scowl-grimace. That look always means very not good. "Ah," she holds up the book still in her hands, "the spell. I've found it."
Emily nods. "Come on, then." She steps out of the way so Jo can enter her cabin. "And don't worry. Riley can keep a little secret or two. Can't you, love?"
There's a pause as Riley probably stutters his way through an affirmative answer, but Alex can't hear him. It's probably a good thing. Can't you, love? Has she lost her mind? Is she drunk? It's only late morning, probably not. For once, though, he almost hopes he's wrong and she is.
She peers out into the hallway, and oh, that smirk. "Hello Alex. Feeling alright? You don't look it."
"Fine." He grinds out. "I'm fine. Would ye mind terribly coming out 'ere a moment, Peg? There's somethin I think I need to clear up."
"Oh, I think everything's plenty clear already. You can come in if you like, though, you might like to hear what Jo has to say."
He wants to say yes. He wants to stroll right up and pull his little Captain Peg in for a kiss and beg her to stop this madness. But he's never felt this out of control and isn't sure what he'll do if he sees Connelly, isn't sure what he'll be able to stop himself doing. "I'll ask 'er later." He tries to force himself to relax, forces his fists to unclench. "I 'ope ye know what ye're doing, Cap'n."
She stands tall, crossing her arms defiantly. "I always know what I'm doing. That's why I'm captain, remember?"
He only shakes his head before stalking away.
~an hour earlier~
She can't do it.
She comes so close. She has Riley hook, line, and sinker, trailing kisses along bare skin and hands down to…well, do things she knows Alex, at least, likes. And he hasn't protested, not really. Not that she blames him. He's probably never even been nearly this close to a girl before, and Peg's learning by now. She knows what men think when they see her, is learning to use this when it suits her purpose.
But maybe the Admiral was right. When it comes down to it, Emily has too big a heart. Be it because it's cruel enough as is, what she's trying to do to a good boy like Riley, or because that big heart of hers belongs so thoroughly to Alex, she just can't do it.
"Miss – Miss Emily?" Riley stutters, uncertain and breathless. He's laying back on her bed, down to nothing but his trousers. Still, the wide eyes and the way they are staying fixed resolutely on her face – he's a good boy. Not because it's all he knows, for certainly she's been trying to show him another way. He's good because – he just is. No ifs. No 'basically'. Not like with her papa or Alex, where certain things have to be excused.
She can't, and it's definitely because she's being cruel to Riley. This thought has really only just occurred to her somehow, and she's suddenly acutely aware of her own state of undress – the only things covering her own frame are her trousers and her leg brace. Feeling a little disgusted with herself, she backs away from the bed and turns away, snatching up what she hopes is her shirt and slipping it on.
"Miss Emily." His voice is steadier now, almost, maybe, a little worried? She feels him come up behind her.
"You're captain is absolutely right about me." She turns and crosses her arms, voice steady but soft. "And you're far from stupid, so you must know it. Why play my games?"
He looks startled, studying her a moment. "Because," he replies slowly, "my Captain isn't seeing the whole picture, I don't think."
Her eyes harden and she scowls. "And you think you are, is that it?"
"I think," he steps forward, cautious, reaching out a hand to brush ever so lightly against her cheek, a sad look in his eyes now, "that I see just a little more than he does because I understand."
She fights to keep up appearances. She is Peg. Captain Turner, not some damsel. "Understand what?"
"That unless you are standing where the Admiral and my Captain are, survival can be a precarious thing." His hand drops to clutch his other arm as he looks down. "I don't know how you got here, I just know this is where we stand now. Survival is what brought me onto Captain Andrews' ship, even though I'd heard things about the Company, awful things. So I can't begrudge you you're actions, Miss Emily. You're only doing what you think you have to, in the end," he pauses briefly, eyes rising hesitantly back up to meet hers, "and I understand that perfect. I can respect it."
She stares at him, into those kind eyes, and she hates him. She hates him because she thinks, given too much time, she could come to love him. Not as much or as little as she does Alex, because she's coming to realize that love doesn't have a quantity, it just is or it isn't, and therefore, perhaps, it's possible to love more than one person a certain way. It would be different, though, loving a boy like Riley, and she's half curious as to how. And she hates her own black guts for even thinking it and hates him even more for making her. Alex's voice echoes in her mind, we are not our parents. All evidence to the contrary.
"Why did you do this?" Riley asks, thankfully before any of her thoughts can spill out into the open. "Why did you bring me down here? Did you really want…"
She wants to hurt him somehow. It's petty, but she doesn't care. "Alex. He's got a bit of a wandering eye and I've only been trying to make him jealous enough for it to wander back to me."
But Riley doesn't look hurt at all. He nods calmly, as if he'd expected this answer. "In that case, I am at your service. Provided you can promise me he won't have my head for it."
She should say no. She should send him back off to his Captain so she can take a breath and think about all this logically. But Alex is still a problem. She eyes Riley up a bit. "Shirt off." She commands, all Peg now. He doesn't even question her, slipping said item of clothing back off, and she snatches it, tossing it aside. "Now." She backs him up a bit and pushes him to sit on the bed. "Listen carefully, and for the love of all that is perfectly indecent, try to stop blushing like a virgin on her wedding night."
She expects it to be Alex when someone knocks on her door, so she's a little thrown off when she hears Jo's somewhat strained voice instead. It takes her a moment to decide what she wants to do. Should she tell Jo what's actually going on here?
"Cap'n!" Jo calls out, a little more urgent than the first time.
"Coming." Emily calls back finally, deciding not to bother. Jo knows when not to ask questions. Pausing when she makes it to her door, she glances back at Riley and sends him a wink; this could be fun if he'll let it, and good boy or not, he's still got that mischievous glint that first caught her attention.
Jo looks a little out of sorts when Emily finally opens the door; her hair is even more unruly than usual and there are circles beneath her hazel eyes. Her eyebrows shoot up as she peers into the room and sees Riley, still quite shirtless and draped casually across Emily's bed. "Ah," she tears her eyes away to focus on Emily, apparently flustered, "the spell. I've found it."
"Come on, then." She steps out of the way so Jo can enter her cabin. "And don't worry. Riley can keep a little secret or two. Can't you, love?"
Impressively, he manages not to stutter, his reply coming smooth and easy. "I should think I'm getting rather good at it, in fact, Captain." The tone behind the word is what tops it off; he sounds part flirtatious as a lover, part respectful as though she really is his captain now. Oh, in another life, she really could have made a good pirate out of him.
Jo slips into the room, eyeing Riley with confusion, but says nothing as she sets the book in her arms down on the desk.
She knows he's outside – he's been pacing the length of the corridor for the past twenty minutes at least – so she peers her head out of her door. Alex's fists are clenched and his jaw is too, and his eyes are narrowed and glaring. She smirks. Good. You just stand there and be angry over what's actually nothing for a while. Serves you right. "Hello Alex. Feeling alright? You don't look it."
"Fine." He snaps, his voice lowering dangerously. "I'm fine. Would ye mind terribly coming out 'ere a moment, Peg? There's somethin I think I need to clear up."
She meets his eyes, hers hardening for a moment. "Oh, I think everything's plenty clear already. You can come in if you like, though," she adds, much more pleasant, "you might like to hear what Jo has to say."
"I'll ask 'er later." He's trying to relax, it appears; his fists unclench, although he's still glaring. "I 'ope ye know what ye're doing, Cap'n." He adds tightly.
She straightens up, crossing her arms defiantly. "I always know what I'm doing. That's why I'm captain, remember?"
He only shakes his head before stalking off. Her arms slowly drop back to her sides as she watches him go with the sinking feeling that this might very well mean war for the two of them.
There's a problem. Of course there is. There always is. Hell would freeze over if they could ever, just once, have things be simple.
Jo can't cast the spell on her own. To cast it on a normal human being requires two people to begin with; according to what Jo knows of these things (not half as much as her mother had, she admits, but she can get by), casting it on a being like Emily's mother would be nigh on to impossible. If they were to make this work, she'd need help, from more than just one person. And therein lies the real problem. The only other person Emily knows of with Calypso's blessing is Ana, and although she'd love nothing more than a good excuse to go visit the older woman – there is no guarantee that will be enough. And besides that, she has no desire to drag Ana into all of this.
Jo suggests that there's something off about all of this. The Admiral wanting Emily so badly, Emily's mother and the fact that their goddess had said they'd need her help, and even Calypso herself and the fact that she'd been forced to stop helping Emily and Jo.
"It's all connected." She insists with a vehemence. "It must be."
"How? If you have any – any theories, I'm listening, because I'm as confused as ever." Emily paces her cabin restlessly.
"I've no idea." Jo admits. "But I think… whatever this is, we're getting close. You might try asking our goddess for whatever answers she can give. I think that's the only way we'll ever get it all sorted."
…
She does just that. Lying in bed that night, she begs her goddess to give her the answer, to just tell her what she's missing. She tosses and turns for what could be hours, hoping to feel her goddesses presence – but she gets nothing. Not that that's surprising.
It takes some time, but finally, she falls into a restless sleep.
…
She dreams.
First it's her mother, in the vision where they tear across the deck of the Dutchmen with swords clashing, the gargoyle serpents atop her head writhing and hissing. Emily can feel it in that vision, the sword piercing her own heart. Her mother's voice, soft as it once was when she was still something close to human, 'I'm sorry.' But how does it really end? Does Emily really die?
The Admiral, standing stiffly before her as she holds a dagger to his manhood. '…far more valuable than first glance would imply…not quite dead or alive…something in between.' Far more valuable. What did he mean, far more valuable? He could've been referring to her inability to be harmed, but that didn't seem right, she hadn't made it clear until just after that that she had no idea of what she was. He had to have been referring to something else. But what?
The conversation with Jo, talking about real magic. About the power being temperamental. 'I've thought for some time now there should have been all manner of strange happenings around you with your temper.' Jo had said. Strange happenings. Emily knows she has a temper, certainly she would've noticed. If this is a gift all those blessed by a goddess receive, why doesn't Emily have it? Or…or…the inkling of an idea plays at the edges of her clever mind.
Their goddess had been scolded for interfering so much, too much. Emily had figured that was because she'd been allowed to bring her father back. Surely it must upset some balance when those who truly pass start refusing to stay dead. But what if…
At some point a familiar scene fills her vision, and she starts at the feel of her goddess' presence, so strong after being near absent entirely for so long. If there is a moon it is obscured by dark clouds; the air is chilly and the ocean froths, lapping restless at the sandy shore Emily is now standing on. Emily shutters to think of what could bring such unrest to an ancient goddess.
"I think…I'm starting to understand." She says, looking around, hoping her goddess will appear. "I wasn't normal to begin with. You're blessing did more for me than it would've for Jo or anyone else."
Her goddess doesn't appear. The wind picks up a bit. Emily thinks, perhaps, this means she has her goddess worried. Which means she's getting close. This is confirmed in an instant; her goddesses presence turns a bit warning, a bit scolding.
"I do have this other gift, the magic. Don't I?" Her goddess is not happy at all. The clouds above thicken. The sea grows more restless. "But – but it's like Jo said. It's…stronger with me." She paces the sandy shore a bit as she works it out. "And I can't control my temper sometimes." She stops in her tracks, turning to face the raging sea spread out before her as her goddesses presence surrounds her, almost suffocating as she warns, outright demands Emily to just drop it. But Emily's nothing if not stubborn. "You've been holding it back." And now it makes perfect sense. "That's why you got into trouble for interfering. Because you've had to keep a closer eye on me, too close. But I don't understand." She's talking to a goddess, an ancient and very powerful being and she's pushing her luck and she knows it but she's had enough. "If you were going to risk getting into trouble over me why not use that time to show me how to work with this gift, why not teach me control? Surly there are any number of ways it could be useful if you'd only shown me…" Oh. Oh, Emily gets it. She gets it perfectly.
The chaos that's been building around her reaches a crescendo as lightening cracks and thunder rolls and the sea roils and froths and laps at Emily's feet, almost clawing, and the wind whips at her as rain begins pouring. But that's alright. Because Emily's angry now, too. Fists clenching, she shouts into the storm that is her goddess' rage. "You didn't want to show me, did you? You've been holding it back because you're…" The wind whips at her so furiously she is nearly blown right off her feet. "You're afraid of what this silly little mortal girl could do with it! You need us to need you down here, so if I could work all this out on my own…"
Lightning strikes right on the beach, so close that Emily feels the crackling heat of it and is thrown back from the force. Sprawled on her back in the wet sand, she remains conscious just long enough to see her goddess finally appear, glaring down at her…
And then, she knows nothing.
…
When she wakes, she comes to slowly, awareness returning to her one sense at a time. She feels wet, the sand warm beneath her now, the sun shining down bright on her face. She hears the tide coming in and birds cawing and the trees rustling pleasantly with a light breeze. Finally, she opens her eyes, squinting into the brightness, brows furrowed. Sitting up with some difficulty – she is stiff and sore from head to toe, her limbs protesting each movement irritably – she stares out to sea a moment. The waters are relatively calm, though still a little choppy, as though her goddess is only just worried now.
She climbs to her feet and looks around, a little disoriented. So – what exactly has just happened here?
A little ways further inland, a familiar little table appears beneath the trees, set up with tea and pastries just as it had been the first time Emily had been brought here. She makes her way over to it, a little wary. The chair pulls itself out. Emily sits for lack of anything better to do. She looks over the tea and crumpets set before her, scoffing, feeling irritable and reckless and somehow detached from this very strange reality. "Could do with something stronger." She grumbles, glaring at the teapot, but of course, it remains just a pot full of tea. Sighing, she begins fixing herself a cup of the warm liquid as she waits patiently for her goddess to appear, as that seems the next logical step.
"I did not make the rules, young one."
Emily stares down at the delicate china cup before her, refusing to look up though she knows the goddess is now sitting across from her. "I've figured it out now. Sort of, at least, so there's no point in… can't you explain it all? Please, my goddess."
"Dere does not seem to be much explainin left to do."
"I think there's plenty." Easy, girl, she scolds herself. Her tone is too forceful. She'd just been struck by lightning. No need to keep pushing her luck so hard. "This – this gift I should have, is that why the Admiral wants me?"
"Yes."
"What's he planning that could require some kind of witchery? Last I checked that was the sort of thing people were burned for." Silence. She didn't really expect an answer to that one, but it was worth a shot. Moving right along, then. "Could I help Jo? Could just the two of us perform this spell on my mother?"
"Yes."
Emily pauses, circles a finger around the rim of her teacup, takes a sip of the liquid as she gathers the courage to allow her thoughts down a different path. "What the Admiral said about me…"
"This Admiral." Her goddess scoffs, mocking. "He thinks yeh are cursed. Dat yeh are less dan human."
"It certainly sounds like…"
"No." Her goddess cuts her off. "Yeh listen to me, young one. Yeh are more. Dat is why I have been kept from you. Knowin can be dang'rous. Dey did not want yeh to know."
They? Some part of her wants to ask, but she's beginning to think there are some things she does not, in fact, want to know. "So I was never meant to understand? I may be just like mother, unable to die and I was never meant to understand exactly why?"
"I did not make de rules." Her goddess says again, more forceful this time. "Nor do I always agree with dem. But now yeh do know. Dere is nothin can be done 'bout it."
"What did you mean I am 'more'?"
A pause. Her goddess sighs. "What yehr mother is – what she does – it was not meant to be a curse. It is a gift given to one near death, de job handed off so dat each Captain can rest in de end."
"And a worthy person can remain alive, or something close to it, with the promise of seeing their beloved again." She thinks of Alex. Of how far she might be willing to go if it meant more time with him in the end. "I can understand that."
"More dan alive, young one. De Captain is immortal and granted him own sort of power. Dat is a special gift. But dese things come with a price."
"A price that makes it seem a curse. That – makes sense, I suppose."
"But dis time was different. De job had never been given to a woman before, much less a woman who had already received my blessin." Her goddess softens a bit, at the thought of Emily's mother?
Emily's brows furrow. "You'd given my mother your blessing?"
"I had. De moment I was freed from my mortal shell. She would not have known." Her goddess' tone turns sad. "When she became de Dutchman's captain, I was worried. With my blessin and de privileges of bein an immortal, dere was no end to de trouble she could cause if things went wrong."
"And then they started to do just that."
"So I paid a special visit to a frightened little girl."
Emily remembers all too well. Being just eight years old, captured by the Admiral, imprisoned and beginning to wonder if anyone would bother coming for her. And then her goddess just appearing, healing her bruises, telling her all would be fine. And it was. "That's when you gave me your blessing."
"No, young one. Dat is when I took much of de power yeh mother possessed and gave it to you. And dat is why I have been holding it back even still. Yeh weren't ready."
Processing this takes a moment. Her hand, a little shaky now, reaches for her teacup again, but her stomach is churning as the sea had been not too long ago and she sets it back down with an unsteady clatter. "So – what happens now?"
"Now yeh know. Dere is little point in my stayin away. I will allow you the use of your power, a bit at a time. How you use it is up to you, young one, but I would suggest yeh learn it quickly and learn it well."
"And what if – what if I don't want it?" Because she really doesn't, can't fathom why anyone would. She's not sure what she can do with this magic, but she knows she doesn't want to find out. This sounds, to her, like more than any mortal should have ever been granted.
"I'm afraid de choice was never truly yours. I am sorry."
Of course it wasn't. Taking a breath, Emily finally looks up to meet her goddess' eyes. "I think… I'd just like to be back on my ship now. Please, my goddess?"
Nodding once, her goddess waves a hand, almost flippant. The wind picks up a bit again. The scene around her falls away a piece at a time until she is back in her cabin. "I'll be watchin, young one." Her goddess gives a final warning.
There is sunlight streaming into the room. Figures, she sighs. It's early morning, perhaps eight. Curiously, she's no longer in bed but curled up in the window seat, staring out at the sparsely clouded blue sky. But – she'd only been dreaming. Right? She'd still be in bed if she was. The idea that she wasn't sends her heart pounding anew. If her goddess had pulled her to that island physically – the lightning. Emily should be very dead.
A knock sounds at her door. Thinking there are only a handful of people it could probably be at this point, she answers absently, not bothering to stand. "Yes?"
Alex peers his head into the room, somewhat cautious. "Can I come in, love?"
Too preoccupied to entirely remember at first why she's not supposed to be happy with him, she shrugs a bit. "I suppose."
He closes the door behind him, and she knows why she should've told him not too, but is beyond caring just now. He crosses the room to sit at the other end of the window seat. She shifts to lay her legs across his lap. He doesn't say anything and she doesn't want to break the silence because it's at least more pleasant than arguing. After a moment he runs his hand up her leg from where her wooden replacement is, fiddling with the braces straps. "I miss you." It's so quiet she almost doesn't hear it.
He misses her. That should make her angry. He'd just…with Adrienne. Hadn't he? She blinks at him. "Oh, yes. Running off to spend a night with another woman was a wonderful show of that." Snarky, because that's how she should respond.
His brows furrow, probably because she feels too detached to manage any real venom behind her words. "No. That's what I wanted to tell ye yesterday when…" His fists clench, but just for a moment. "Nothin 'appened with Adrienne, love."
She meets his eyes and doesn't believe him because he's got a silver tongue about as bad as his father's now and everyone knows it. But she still can't manage to be angry because she's just been given a glimpse of a bigger picture and she doesn't have room to keep pretending that there's anything left of the children they were such a very short time ago. "Alex, just forget it. Honestly. Adrienne Barbossa is the least of my worries right now."
"The least of your – since when?" His fists clench again, and he growls before she can respond. "Since ye spent 'alf the day yesterday with Connelly, is that it?"
"Nothing happened with Riley yesterday." Because at this point he likely won't believe the truth even if she gives it to him.
He snorts, shaking his head. "I want to believe that, but…" He's trying to read her. She's not even sure of what her own expression is at the moment, but he doesn't like it apparently, because he scowls. "What's got into you?"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't know. Ye're actin just strange. Did ye 'ave a vision? Or are ye just angry with me? I swear I'm tellin only the truth about me n' Adrienne, ye know. What I did to deserve such mistrust, I cannot fathom."
She pauses and thinks a moment and figures, why not? He's an idiot sometimes, but he's still Alex and she still loves him and there is that big picture she's starting to see. "Yes. Yes, I had a vision, and you're not going to believe it, but I think – I think I should be dead."
I think this update might actually be coming a little earlier than usual... Thanks for reading! :)