"Oh, by the -," Emily cuts off, running a hand through her loose dark waves, frustrated, "I know that look, Jo. What is it now?" Jo opens her mouth as if to speak, but shuts it again without saying a word, which is disconcerting to say the least. The older woman just about always has something to say. Emily scowls. "Jo!"
They're in Emily's cabin. Alex had just left after she'd explained what had happened the night before when Jo came in, and now she's just gone through the whole thing over again and is feeling rather frustrated with it all.
The older woman just shakes her head, waving Emily off. "Nothing that can't wait, I'm sure. You've got plenty to worry about already, I'd say."
Emily huffs. "Speaking of what I'm already worried about, just how much do you know about," magic. Why does the word sound just so ridiculous?
Jo raises and eyebrow. "Our powers." She offers, diplomatic.
"…I need to start learning this quick if I'm to get a handle on it apparently and seeing as the only other person I know of who…" Oh.
"Who…?" Jo prompts when Emily doesn't go on.
"My old captain, and that's not a bad idea. We're already headed for Shipwreck and last I heard from her she'd finally settled there, running one of the taverns."
"I thought you said you didn't want to pull her into this."
"Well, I wouldn't be, I mean, not the way I'd been thinking. Having her help with the spell itself would be more than I want to ask of her, but helping me learn to cast it myself seems a reasonable way to go about it." And besides, she had just been thinking that she wouldn't mind paying Ana a visit.
"Cap'n!" The shout comes from one of her crewmen. Emily's brows furrow as she hears some sort of commotion up on deck. Jo locks eyes with her for a moment, hers widening, before the sound of gunfire reaches their ears and they booth shoot to their feet, tearing out of Emily's cabin.
The scene they're greeted with when they get up on deck themselves is – worrying, to say the least.
Peter Montgomery, Riley's fellow midshipmen, is planted on the rail, clutching the rigging for balance, a pistol in his free hand. Emily's men have formed a half circle around him, swords and pistols drawn, but they seem to be hesitating.
Emily scowls as she stalks forward. "What the hell is going on here? Shoot him, you idiots!"
Several of the men send worried glances her way as they slowly part to let her through. She sends them a dangerous scowl as she storms past, setting her sights on the half-brained whelp aiming a pistol like it's going to do him any real good. "Now, just what do you think you're going to do with that…" She doesn't even manage to finish the sentence, because it's at this point that she finally sees who he's pointing the pistol at. "I knew I should've killed you." She tells Peter now, near growls at him.
"Perhaps you really should have." This from Captain Andrews, whose standing not a few feet away, being restrained by two of her men. "Surely you saw this coming, Captain."
She instantly thinks of Joshy. Of what he'd been trying to tell her that night she'd brushed him off so carelessly. Is this what he'd been trying to warn her about? "I'm beginning to think I should have. How did you manage it?"
"Does it matter? We're here now, and you're going to let us go. Isn't she Peter, my boy?"
"Yes, sir." Peter says, eyes hard as he levels the pistol at his captives head. "She is."
Emily's eyes dart between the figure standing stiffly, staring down the barrel of the pistol, and Peter, who looks determined without a hint of remorse. Her mind races, trying to come up with an answer, but she just can't think! Panic builds up and a strange sensation takes over her, building in her gut.
"Captain!" Andrews prods, straining a bit against the men holding him. Taking this as his cue, Peter cocks the pistol.
"Emily." His voice is calm and quiet. Emily. He just called her Emily. "Don't give them a thing."
She tears her eyes away to glare at Andrews. "You bastard. And you'd call me cruel?" He only glares right back. The strange feeling builds, a sort of intense pressure. She sets her sights on the boy with the pistol. "Peter, is it? You don't want to do this. You shoot, and I will show you real cruelty, believe me, you'll wish I had killed you, I swear it."
"The choice is entirely yours, Captain." Andrews interjects again. "Let us go and there'll be no harm done."
"Stow it, you!" She snarls. "Peter! I keep my promises! Don't be stupid!" He doesn't move. The pressure builds further. Her fists clench so hard her nails begin to dig into her palms. Her men begin to gasp. Jo murmurs a worried, urgent 'Peg!'. Emily isn't entirely sure of what's happening, but Peter seems to be… the pistol. He's pointing it at himself.
His eyes widen, his hands begin to shake. "Captain!" He stutters.
Andrews looks just as shocked. He looks at Emily, then Peter, then Emily again, but says nothing. No one moves, apparently too frightened and confused to know what to do.
Alex is the one to murmur. "Stop. Peg. Emily, stop!"
Is she doing this? She remembers what her goddess had said, about her powers, how she'd be allowed to use them now, a bit at a time. Is – is she controlling Peter? If so, how does she stop? No, wait, a more pressing questions enters her mind – does she want to? With what he's threatening, why she should she?
Her papa's come up now. He pauses, probably taking in the scene – Emily shaking with rage, Peter with the pistol now aimed up under his own chin. Emily exchanges a glance with the boy who'd been at the other end of that pistol, and there's an odd sort of understanding in her papa's voice when he finally speaks. "You, boy." He points at the wiry figure still standing before Peter. "Move while you still can."
Snapped out of whatever odd trance he'd been in, Riley Connelly starts a bit, locks eyes with Will, and then does just that, shooting forward to stand behind Emily.
"There. It's over, Emily, just that easily. Killing this one here, that's not going to make you feel any better now."
He's right. It takes a moment for it to sink in, but he's right. Gods above, what is she doing? Her fists unclench as she relaxes, slow but sure. Peter, still looking thoroughly terrified, drops the pistol.
"In the brig. Both of them, in the brig, now! They're not to be fed or given water until I decide what to do with them!"
Several of her men, including the two holding Andrews down, mutter an 'aye Cap'n', and she watches as Peter and Andrews are both hauled off. With a mixture of anger and confusion and fear settling in her gut now over what's just happened, she rounds on her crew. "What are you looking at? Back to work you scabrous dogs!" She growls. "Shipwreck Cove, I want to be there by tomorrow night, go on, I want movement!" The men scramble to do as she'd said. She turns to Riley, softening a touch, too preoccupied to realize how it'll look. "I'm so sorry. Are you alright, love?"
Apparently, he's a little too preoccupied to worry about appearances either. "Yes." He nods. "Yes, I'm fine." He ghosts a shaky hand against her cheek. "This – this wasn't your fault, though. I should've asked…"
"It's quite a mess I've made." She catches his hand in her own, holding it a moment.
"We've made." He interjects firmly.
"We'll get it sorted, one way or another." She assures, not missing a beat.
Her father clears his throat. Emily looks up at him, and he gestures subtly to Alex, who's eyes are fixed on Riley and glaring with a fierceness she's only ever seen him match once – the day before, when he'd thought she'd been with with Riley. Alright, so, now she realizes just how it looks. But Alex will just have to get over it. She'd told him nothing had happened with Riley and it was basically the truth. If he doesn't believe it, that's his problem. "Alex, stop it." She says irritably.
"You keep your hands off her!" He doesn't take his eyes off Riley.
Riley takes his hand back, looking more annoyed than worried, but he's smart enough not to engage Alex. Instead, he addresses Emily, regaining some composure. "It would seem I have been declared a pirate. In fact, I have been promised that if ever Andrews should once again have the means to do so, I shall be branded as such." Taking a breath, he glances at Alex again. "Seems I've run out of options, at least for the time being. If you'll have me, Captain, I'd be much obliged of a place to stay. You'll find I'm a plenty able seaman, I think."
She studies him a moment. "I'm sure I will, Mister Connelly." She replies, then pulls him aside after another glance at Alex. "Don't get too comfortable." She says, all business. "I mean it. I'm going to get you back to your Sarah, I promise."
"I wasn't intending too, Miss Emily. I'm sure you will."
She straightens, clearing her throat. "Right then. Get to work, Mister Connelly, there's always plenty to be done."
He slips off with one last wary glance at Alex, who stalks forward to hover over Emily. "You told me nothing happened!"
"Because nothing did happen, Alex." She slips past him and pauses, deliberating a moment. Goddess, what she really wants right now is a drink – but instead she heads up for the helm.
"That, just now, that did not look like 'nothin'."
"You disappeared with Adrienne for an entire night." She points out as a retort, matter-of-fact.
"I told you..."
"And I have no more reason to believe you than you do me, Sparrow." She pauses just as she reaches the steps leading up to the helm, spinning around to face him. "You know what, I'm not even sure I care what you do any longer. Just as long as I don't hear about it."
There's that sad look again. "Now wait, I didn't – I don't – that's not…"
Another crewmen comes up, grabbing Emily's attention to explain tightly that the shot she'd heard earlier was Peter's; one of her men is dead. It takes a moment for that to sink in. Be it luck or the fact that Calypso seems to have her hand in everything related to Emily, the Sea's Queen doesn't too often loose crew this way.
Sorry, Alex, but you really are the least of my worries now. Forcing herself to be calm, she turns back to him. "Alex." She locks eyes with him, and lies through her teeth. "Honestly. Do what you want as long as I don't hear about it. Besides," she glances at Riley, whose eyes are fixed on one of Emily's men as he's told what to do, "I'd say we're just about square now." She looks back up at Alex. "How about that?"
"Square." He pulls back a little, nodding. "Right. S'ppose… I can live with just being square."
She offers a small smile and leans up to plant a kiss on his cheek. "Good. Now, you leave Riley alone, alright? Goddess knows I have enough to worry about." He huffs, but nods, and she leaves him where he stands.
Square. She'd spent over an hour with Riley Connelly in her cabin, very much alone and doing who really knew what, and that's all she has to say about it now, that they're 'square'? Alex tells her he can live with that, but he's lying through his teeth.
The look on Emily's face, when she'd seen Connelly at the other end of the pistol… and then when she'd turned to him afterwards, saying she was sorry. Alex knows that look. He's seen it hundreds of times before – directed at him, and only him. And he wants to gut Connelly and it turns his stomach because now it looks like he'll have to put up with him as a shipmate.
But that look. Is it possible Emily, his little Captain, is falling for…
No. 'Course not, he tells himself. That's ridiculous. Emily's not that flighty. Maybe she just – feels guilty. For almost, indirectly getting someone killed. A friend killed. Friends, that's all it was, she'd made friends with Riley, she's allowed that.
She is allowed just friends.
But that look. He knows that look. That look does not mean friends. No. That look means Alex has to do something, soon.
(And if Will Turner doesn't like it, he can go straight back to Hell for all Alex cares any longer.)
They make it to Shipwreck late in the afternoon the next day, just as Emily had wanted, and it's probably a very good thing because Alex suspects it might have been the Devil to pay if they hadn't. She doesn't leave the ship, though, he notices. She sends her brother, who still isn't really talking to her, off to see Mrs. White. She tells Jo to go find her own trouble – Captain Kristoff's ship is docked not far from theirs, both she and Alex had noticed, and Jo deserves a break. For all that she insists Kristoff isn't 'hers' in any way, Jo certainly seems all too eager to do just as Emily had suggested.
Alex makes as if to leave too. Really, he fully intends to. There are several things he thinks about doing, including catching up with Emily's papa for a talk that they have yet to really have. But then he realizes that everyone's gone. Even Emily's papa, even Joshy, she'd shooed everyone away. Except for the men down in the hold, guarding Andrews and Peter, of course, but they won't be a bother.
He wouldn't be finding a moment more opportune than this, that's for certain. He makes his way back onto the ship as quiet as possible, slips below decks, and down the familiar corridor. Her door is open; she's expecting everyone else to be gone. He hovers in her door way and just out of her easy line of sight as she sits at her desk. There's a book set before her, large and familiar. One of Jo's ancient spell tomes. He watches as Emily reaches out, slow and hesitant, as if to open it. Her hand hovers over the cracking, dry old leather for a moment, until finally she takes the corner of it, lifting up… now just what the devil is that? A strange spark of light, almost like lightening, travels up from the book as she touches it, dancing up her arm. She snatches her hand back as though burned, crying out, but it sounds more like fright than pain.
For a moment she just stares down at the book, brows furrowed and brown eyes wide. The look turns to a scowl after a long moment as she rakes a hand through her hair. Looking a little shaky now, she reaches down to a drawer of the desk and pulls something out – a bottle. She pulls the cork out with her teeth, a little too routine, and brings the bottle to her lips for a long drink.
He moves to lean in the doorway now, arms crossed, calm and casual. "Well, that's the most interestin thing I've ever seen, I must admit."
She starts, choking on the rum as she sets the bottle on the desk. "Alex!" She coughs. "Goddess, I thought you'd gone with the others!"
"Figured ye could use the company. Looks to me like I was right." He eyes the bottle. "That's not goin to make all, erm, this," he gestures towards the book, "go away, ye know."
"Mmm," she settles back in the chair, "perhaps not, but it makes it me feel better."
He studies her a moment. "That's not very sound solution, is it? Unless ye intend to spend the rest of ye're life 'alf in the bottle." There's a pause as Emily doesn't answer immediately. He goes on, annoyed at her apparent apathy. "I keep sayin we aren't our parents, but I s'ppose it's 'opeless, is'nit?"
Her eyes dart up to meet his now, and there it is, the fire always blazing behind those pretty orbs. "Alex Sparrow, if you're really trying to compare to my father, I will throw this bloody bottle at your head."
He stands straight and holds his arms out. "Be my guest, love."
She picks it up, eyes him, then it, deliberating. She doesn't throw it, as he knew she wouldn't. "S'near full." She grumbles, sulking. "It'd be a travesty to waste it like that." She brings the bottle to her lips again instead. He drops his arms, rolling his eyes. She raises her brows at him. "You can come in, you know. There's no one around but us now."
"That is, in point of fact, just what I was thinkin." He hesitates, though. Why is he hesitating? He isn't sure.
"Oh?" She asks, flirting now, a smirk behind her eyes. "Pray tell, just what else is it that crossed your mind to have you thinking about being alone with me?"
He always flirts back with a pretty girl. Always. But Emily's not just any other pretty girl, and her attitude is as of late is really beginning to put him off. "Ye've been drinkin." He excuses, shaking his head.
She laughs outright at this. "Not sure what that even has to do with it, to tell the truth."
"Be taking advantage, I would. S'the kind of thing ye're papa will be waitin to 'ave me 'ead for."
The smirk is back, adorably mischievous, as she holds the bottle out to him. "Then you have a drink with me and at least I can call it even if it comes down to it." He still hesitates. She rolls her eyes. "For heaven's sake, such a look." She gets to her feet and strolls across her cabin to him, pressing the bottle against his chest and guiding his hand up to take it. "Looks to me like you need it even more than I do."
He stares down at her a moment, glances at the bottle, and realizes…is she enjoying this somehow? He doesn't quite understand. She's made it clear she doesn't believe him about Adrienne (and what really did not happen), but she doesn't seem upset as he'd expect over it. He shakes his head. Pirates, is that what the excuse still is?
Fine, then. He's not sure how much longer he can stand this little dance their doing, but he brings the bottle to his lips and at least pretends to take a drink, though he can't seem to make himself actually swallow. Emily leads him further into the room, and he decides maybe he can ignore all the slow-brewing problems between them, just for one night more.
He actually has to work up some courage just to knock on her door. Perhaps it's silly. It's just Emmy after all. But he's been trying so hard to stay out of her way. That is what she'd seemed to want, anyway. Miss Gibbs had tried to tell him how very wrong he was, but he isn't sure he believes her. The truth is, he can't blame his sister. He still feels he was justified in telling on her, but at the same time he quite understands why it made her so angry. He's just been trying to leave her be long enough that maybe she'll except an apology.
There's voices coming from inside her cabin, a little frantic, his sister giggling – or chocking back a giggle, more like. Joshy's eyes widen when he hears another all too familiar voice – oh. He hasn't interrupted them again, has he? Well it's all Miss Gibbs' fault this time, he thinks crossly, feeling a blush creep up to color his cheeks as the door finally opens. He looks down at his feet to hide it.
"Yes, what is it?" Emily sounds a little annoyed to begin with, and he winces.
"I'm sorry, Emmy." He always seems to be apologizing for something, doesn't he? "Miss Gibbs sent me to come get you because she's just met someone who wants to see you. Her names Anamaria. I think."
"Miss Gibbs sent you down to the docks on your own? It's dark already."
It is, but then, Shipwreck Cove is a pretty peaceful place as far as pirate havens go. "She was with someone else." He glances up at Emily, shrugging. "A man."
His sister chuckles now. "Ah. I see. Alright, give me a moment and then I'll walk you down to see Mrs. White." He nods. There's a bit of a pause. "Joshy. Will you look at me?" Slow and hesitant, he allows his eyes to travel up and meet his sisters. She ruffles his hair and leans down to press a kiss to his forehead. "I'm not angry with you."
His brows furrow. "You-you're not?" He's not sure what to make of this. "But I wouldn't blame you. And I mean, I'm really so very sorry and -," he feels tears welling up and scolds himself for it. His sister never cries and it's supposed to be something girls do all the time. Why does he do it so often? "Please don't hate me Emmy!" He bursts, pleading.
"Hate you!" She shakes her head, incredulous. "Joshua Turner, I could not hate you if I tried! If you think I could than you do not know the meaning of the word." She kneels down to meet his eyes proper. "Please, put the thought out of your mind."
He throws his arms around her. "You really mean it?"
"Yes, of course I do!" She returns his embrace with wire strong arms. "There, now." She pulls away to look at him again. "I just need a moment, remember, and then we'll go see Mrs. White about getting you settled for the night and I'll sing to you before I leave, how about that?"
He nods, sniffling as he brings an arm up to wipe the tears away. She stands straight again and goes to close the door, but he peers into the room, the window dominating the far wall catching his eye. It's wide open. "You know, you might try closing the window up again next time. Hello Alex!" He calls into the room, mischievous.
Emily's eyes widen as a blush colors her cheeks. She covers it with a playful scowl. "Oi! Cheeky! Shoo!"
Joshy sticks his tongue out at her as Alex's grinning face appears in the window and she quickly shuts the door.
"Emily Turner!" Ana's shrill voice calls out, as easily heard as ever, even in the noise of a tavern full of pirates.
Emily spots the older woman easily, picking her away across the room. There's a smile on her face, open and honest. A rare occurrence, or at least it had been. Emily returns it as she finds herself being pulled in for a hug. Funny, it never occurred to her that she'd so missed the older woman until now, seeing her again. Unsure of what to say now that she's here, she only allows herself to hold onto the woman who'd been the closest thing to a mother she'd ever really known, perhaps a little longer than necessary.
Ana pulls back after a long moment. "Well, just look at you, Captain. All grown up and pretty, now."
Emily huffs playfully. "Well, more grown up, perhaps. Goddess, I didn't realize how good it would be to see you."
"Nor I you, although the circumstances could be better, I'm told. Oh, but we'd best not get into that here, I have rooms just up the stairs." She makes as if to lead Emily towards the back of the tavern, but pauses. "Hold on, where's your Alex? I seem to remember you two being thick as thieves, scarce saw one of you without the other."
"Oh, he's, erm," Emily gives the older woman a sheepish look, "trying to pretend to be keeping his distance…which is a whole other story from the one I'm meant to be telling you."
"Trying to pretend…" Ana looks bewildered. "Well, I've got all the time in the world, and you're not out of it just yet either." They pick their way through the tavern and climb the short flight of stairs. Ana leads her into a large but cozy room, housing everything from a bed to a worn old sofa and arm chairs. Jo is curled up on the end of the sofa, looking nothing short of fascinated as she flips through a book that looks much like her spell books – but isn't one of them.
Emily places a hand on her hip as she enters the room. "Miss Gibbs," she scolds, half playful, "I'm afraid I'm really rather cross with you. Sending my baby brother all the way down to the docks on his own and after dark, no less."
Jo rolls her eyes. "Well, fortunately for him, he doesn't seem to have his sister's inherent knack for finding trouble even when actively not looking for it, so I figured he'd be fine."
Emily opens her mouth to retort, but shuts it again and shrugs upon noting that Jo has a point. Ana laughs. "I've always found it hard to believe when she says she isn't looking for it. And don't even get me started on Sparrow's boy, Alex. You are going to explain about him, now, aren't you?" She gestures for Emily to have a seat as she takes one of the arm chairs.
Emily huffs as she sits herself next to Jo. "Well, it's – I mean, we sort of – well, it's all just very complicated since we've got my papa now."
Ana looks startled at this, in a way Emily's never seen before. "Your – your papa? So you've done it then. All the way to the End and back again?"
Emily nods. "Papa's been with us since."
Ana seems to relax and let out a strange, relieved sort of laugh. "Oh, thank the old gods. I'd thought I was going mad when I saw the men coming off your ship earlier. I could've sworn it was him I had seen but wasn't brave enough to chase him down and find out."
Ah. "Oh, you can thank me for that," Emily offers apologetically, "with all that's happened I never even thought to write back and explain."
Ana scoffs. "With all I've been hearing of you I hardly expected anything back, at least not right away. Anyway, with Will hovering over your shoulder I suppose I can see why Alex would feel the need to keep away. Your papa was really quite protective of you, you know. Now, about all that's happened."
"I've already explained about the spell." Jo interjects now, glancing up from the book she'd gone back to. "This is – incredible. I never would've imagined there was anything more than what's down in my mother's books, they're both so massive, but you've got pages of spells and rituals in here that I've never seen before."
"Each corner of the map has its own traditions to add, and the second half of each book is made up of counter spells and ways to break curses cast by others. Magic can be far too tricky not to have that."
"Which is just why we're here. I had a vision…" Emily glances at Jo.
Jo shakes her head. "I figured that was your story to tell."
"Right." So Emily launches right into it. This is Ana, after all. She hasn't seen the older woman in ages, but still she feels as though she could tell her anything. It helps a little, this time, telling it now that she's thinking a little more clear. When she finishes, all is silent for an unexpected moment; when she'd told the story to Jo and Alex they'd had nothing but questions they couldn't wait to interject with, but Ana just studies her with the wisdom of one older than them all.
"I expect you've no idea just how lucky you are, girl, to bring such wrath down on yourself and be here now to tell the tale."
"Oh, I think I've got an excellent idea. In fact, I've come to realize that if the intent had been for me to die, I would have. Honestly I'm not sure why I am here to tell the tale."
Ana scowls, as though that should be obvious. "For the very same reason this Admiral wants you, of course! Power such as you've been given can't be done away with so easily."
"Not even by a goddess?" Jo interjects, curious and impulsive. A cold breeze sweeps across the room, bringing with it the smell of the sea and the feel of the air when it's thick with an approaching storm – although there were no storms in sight this night and there's no window for it to have come through. A blush colors Jo's cheeks as she brings a hand up to play with her curls, flustered. "Ah, with all respect to ours, of course."
"With all respect," Ana repeats carefully, "I suspect not without the power itself having somewhere else to go."
"Great." Emily grumbles, relaxing back into the sofa with a huff. "And I don't even get a say in any of it. 'Unfair' is starting to seem quite the understatement."
The cold breeze sweeps across the room again. Emily glances around, sheepish, half expecting Calypso herself to appear.
"Watch your tone!" Ana hisses, scolding. "Such ungratefulness for such a wonderful gift, it's unheard of! You need only to learn how to use it."
"That would require some semblance of patience." Jo points out, raising an eyebrow at Emily. "Peg, I'm afraid, has none, and an awful short temper to match."
"Oh, I know." Ana replies. "But she'll live if she doesn't want to accidently end up killing someone."
This gets Emily's attention as she remembers the incident with Riley and Peter the previous morning. "Really? Can that happen?"
"It has been known to, I'm afraid, with those young and inexperienced." Ana says, all too serious. "It's not easy to override the will of others to such an extreme, but with power such as you've been given, anything is possible."
Emily's stomach drops. That's what she'd been afraid of. "Fine, then. When do we start?"
Coming up in the next few chapters: another glimpse of Elizabeth, magic related shenanigans, and what I promise will be something of an actual resolution for Emily and Alex and all of their many issues because I think it's probably about time, as I'm sure some of you are starting to agree.
Thanks for reading. :)