"Apples, water, potatoes…lots of gunpowder, plenty of shot for the cannons," Jo lists off early the next day as they look through what they do have in the hold. A stray chicken wanders past, and she raises a brow as she watches it. "Well, food certainly won't be a problem."

Alex rolls his eyes. "Ye act as if ye expected I'd forget somethin."

"Well, you didn't, so thank you." Emily replies, soothing, leaning up to plant a kiss on his cheek. She's relaxed some since the previous morning, feeling better and less panicked now that they're under way. She's also just about decided to forgive him. Well. Sort of, halfway forgive him. Maybe it's more accurate to say she's just decided not to hate him anymore.

Jo slips back further into the hold, through another doorway – and stops short. "Ah, Peg. You might've spoken too soon."

Emily makes her way across the room. "Oh, please don't use that tone. What is it?"

"Rum." Jo replies, glancing at Emily with that scowl-grimace. "Or, erm, rather the absence of it."

"Absence -," she pushes the older woman aside and slips into the room, her eyes widening. Sure enough, the plentiful space left for barrels and crates of bottles is quite thoroughly empty, save for that same chicken wandering around and cluck-cluck-clucking as it pecks at Emily's peg leg. "Oh," is all she can manage to articulate. She shares a look with Jo, and then they both turn, hands planted on hips, to glower at Alex.

He avoids their eyes as he attempts to look innocent. "Right. That. Well, s'ppose no bodies perfect, eh?"

Emily decides he's officially un-forgiven again.

"You know, I really can't even begin to understand why you're so upset." Emily's sitting with arms crossed and her feet – well, foot propped up on the desk before her, crossed over her peg leg. "Not even a week ago you were baiting Riley into a fight he'd never win, about to kill him if I hadn't shown up."

They're in her cabin, of course. Alex is standing on the other side of her desk, arms crossed as he glowers at her, and she's trying to remember when last she saw him any kind of actually happy. "I know that!" He snaps. "I was jealous and actin a right fool and I realize that now but what happened to you, then? Ye looked ready to shoot me that afternoon if I didn't back off! And now ye're ready to send 'im off to face yer mum, who has you terrified, when 'e only 'alf knows what 'e's volunteerin for?"

"I wasn't actually going to shoot anyone that day." She rolls her eyes. "Actually, I was more prepared to use my magic, it would've been harmless."

"That's not the point and ye know it, Peg."

"What is your point, exactly, Sparrow?"

"My point is ye've spent the past few weeks flirtin all shameless like with 'im and now ye're ready to send 'im to what'll probably be 'is death? If that's what ye're going to start doin to yer friends…"

He's really beginning to try her newfound patience. "Riley will be fine!"

"Is that what ye've been tellin yerself? You can't know that 'e will be. Yer magic can't fix everythin!" He near shouts, then pauses a moment, taking a breath. "This is just what I was talkin about, ye know. When I said I wanted Emily back."

She huffs. "Oh, I wish you'd stop with that. Pirates, Alex. I might well be saving all our skins in the long run if I can make this happen, isn't that enough to make it worth it?"

"Pirates." He shakes his head. "That's always the excuse and I'm sick of it."

There's a pause as she studies him. "Then why are you here?" She challenges.

He looks surprised. "What?"

She steels herself. "If you're so worried over all of this, if you're starting to hate me so much, then why are you here? Why not just run off like you talked about two years ago?"

"Hate you?" His eyes widen, as though he can't believe she would even think such a thing, let alone allow the thought to swim its way out into the open. "I don't – I couldn't hate ye. Never." He pauses. "But then, that's just it, isn't it? You're impossible to 'ate. Ye killed Riley's shipmate. A friend. With Riley standing right there. And yet he's willin to do this for ye. Ye bat yer eyes and let a coupla tears drop and ye don't even 'ave to ask anymore. We'd do anythin for ye."

She doesn't know how to answer that. She avoids his eyes and wishes desperately that she'd never given him the keys to the hold. She wants a drink.

"And ye know it." He says softly, realizing.

"I didn't always." She replies in her own defense, and dares to meet his eyes. "It's – sort of a newfound talent. And I'd never use it like this unless I was certain he could make it out alive."

"Could?" Alex snorts, incredulous.

"Well! I don't see you coming up with any better ideas!"

"Ye could've just sent me over, no tricks."

"And have you dead almost certainly?" She scowls.

"… Ye should've just run away with me while we still 'ad the chance. Two years got us 'ere, I wish ye'd never become Captain of this stupid ship."

"If it had been up to you," she sits up now, leaning forward over the desk as she glares, "we'd be settled somewhere over in the colonies and I'd be doing nothing more interesting than cooking you dinner and bearing you children!"

"Well, come now, it wouldn't've been that bad, with the money we 'ad saved we could 'ave bought us a farm and ye could've kept runnin 'round in trousers for all I cared."

"Oh, yes, I'm sure that would go over very well with the people of whatever village you'd settle us in."

"Well, alright, so ye'd 'ave to wear a dress just sometimes. But I'd buy us some 'orses. Always wanted to learn 'ow to ride a 'orse."

"Horses." Emily pauses, softening just a touch. "And I suppose we'd go riding together."

"And ye wouldn't just be cookin. S'hard work, farmin, I'd need yer 'elp."

"What does one do on a farm? Collect hen's eggs."

"Milk the cows."

"And then there'd be the horses to care for."

"And it might not be so bad," he goes on, soft and a little more tentative, "'aving a little one or two runnin around."

She slumps back in the chair, arms crossing again. She has, in fact, thought of this before. The idea of having children. The thoughts it leads to are never pleasant. For one thing, she's sure she'd make for a truly awful mother with the examples she'd had. For another, she and Alex had been, well, going at 'it' like rabbits for a while there, and nothings come of it so far. Although she is thankful for this on many levels, the darker thought has struck her that perhaps, somehow, she wouldn't be capable of bearing him…

"I'm sorry." He says when the silence grows heavy. "We've been lucky, I s'ppose, in that respect. Not sure what either of us would actually do with a baby."

"No, don't be sorry." She replies honestly. "I mean, you're right. I do wish, just sometimes…" She stands and crosses the room to him and wraps her arms around him, laying her head against his chest. He wraps her slender frame in his own arms obligingly. "I love this ship."

"I know ye do."

"But I'd run away with you now, I think. If I thought there was anywhere I could hide." Only she isn't sure there is when it comes to the Admiral. He seems to know what she's been up to no matter where she goes.

Alex pulls away to look at her, eyes widening in surprise. "You would?"

She nods, honest. "I would."

He cups her cheek, searching her eyes. "Hello, Emily. I knew ye were still in there somewhere."

She gives him a soft smile and leans up for a kiss…

"Emmy!" There's a knock at the door just before their lips meet. It's Joshy.

Emily pulls away with a huff, resting her head on Alex's chest as Alex just chuckles. "Yes, what is it?" She calls with some annoyance.

"Miss Gibbs sent me for you. She's down in the galley and there was something about a potion…"

The devotion spell. Emily has to help in finishing it. "Tell her I'm coming!" She looks up at Alex. "Sometimes I think he does it on purpose somehow."

He shakes his head. "It wouldn't surprise me." Any amusement fades; a worried frown pulls at his lips. "Last chance, then, and I'll leave it alone. Ye don't 'ave to do it like this."

He doesn't understand. She shrugs, allowing the mask to slip back on. Easier that way. "Riley's agreed. He'll scarce know what he's doing, and if anything happens…I'll take care of it."

There's that sad look again. He doesn't even try to hide it away now. "Alright. I just…"

"Hope I know what I'm doing?"

"As usual."

"Riley trusts me." She smirks. "You should try it sometime, dearie."

His eyes narrow. "One might think ye're proud of yourself."

She rolls her eyes and leans up to steal a brief kiss. "Remember why I'm Captain." She winks before she leaves him.

"Alright. Maybe I should've thought this one through a bit."

Jo raises an eye brow at him from where she's sat in the galley, peeling potatoes. "Mmm, you think?" Her response is dripping with sarcasm. He pouts. She rolls her eyes. "Oh, don't bother with all that, you'll get no sympathy from me."

They are, of course, talking about the fact that he'd emptied the hold of every last bottle or barrel that had contained rum. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, somehow. In truth, however, he's just succeeded in making a bit of an enemy out of just about everyone else on the Queen.

"I was just trying…" He trails off, huffing when he realizes he's no longer quite sure he understands what his own thought process was.

Jo pauses as she sets the potato in her hands onto the peeled pile next to her. "You don't even know what you were trying to do, do you?" She softens, just a fraction. "You need to relax." She goes on, matter of fact. "Has it occurred to you that perhaps, by now, Peg is simply being Peg?"

"When did taverns and rum and schemes like the one with this spell become 'Peg just bein Peg'?"

A pause as Jo gives him that scowl-grimace of hers. "Perhaps around the same time seducing whatever pretty little thing displays an interest became you just being you. And, to be fair, unless I'm missing something, the first time she ever got drunk, she did so with you."

"So all the rest is my fault, then?" He scowls.

"No, of course not all of it is your fault, but…" She huffs. "Oh, what is the matter with you two, anyway? You're worrying too much, Alex. That's usually her job."

"Usually. Now she seems to've stopped carin all together."

"And you're blaming that on the rum?" Jo asks, apparently trying to make sense of him.

"Yes." He pauses, thinking. "Well, no. I don't know. What else could it be blamed on?"

Jo rubs her temples. "Maybe there's nothing to blame on anything! I mean – knowing her, she still cares plenty Alex. Maybe you should try…"

"Just trustin 'er? That's what she told me, complete with that smirk. She's playin the pirate a little too well now."

"Now, that right there, that is your problem." Jo points at him with the small peeling knife still in her hand. "You're wishing this was still just a game and it isn't."

"I know that!"

"Do you?" She pauses, studying him a moment, hand coming up to rest on her hip. "Maybe your real problem is…" She hesitates.

"Is what?" He asks, hoping her response might hold an actual answer for him.

There's the scowl-grimace again. "We're pirates, Alex." She says we in a way that suggests… "Maybe your problem is that you simply, well, aren't."

Oh. Now there's something he really hadn't considered. For a moment they just stare at each other. The suggestion itself sounds simple enough, but it really holds a considerable weight. Alex's grandfather is the keeper of the Pirate Code, and he'd gone through some trouble to prove himself worthy of being recognized as such, and he's sailing with the Pirate King's daughter, and these things can't just be ignored. He wants to pretend he can be this far into it all and still just walk away, but the truth is, there's nothing so simple about any of this. Walking away now would mean being labeled a traitor in a way that even pirates won't condone. And even if Emily would think about following him, he knows in the end she'd never do it.

"Do us a favor." He says after a moment. "Don't repeat that…not even to Peg."

Jo nods in understanding. "Our secret." Her tone turns a bit warning as she snatches up another potato and gets back to work. "Though, you keep going like you are and it won't be a secret much longer, I expect."

He hates her for how right she is.

Sometimes she hates the stupid thing. She's tempted, half the time, to haul back and throw the thing as far off into the water as she can and be done with it, but this will get her exactly-nowhere instead of only-maybe-somewhere, so she stops herself every time. She blames it on Alex, although in truth she'd had this problem long before he'd taken the rum away. The point is, the compass spends half its time spinning aimlessly in her hands, so she can only half be sure they're moving in the right direction. Thankfully, they have a pretty steady wind filling the sails, so if they are going the right way, they're making good time.

Emily asks her goddess for a little help, any indication that she's on the right track, but she gets nothing. In fact, she thinks the goddess is being almost too quiet, although Emily can feel Calypso is watching her closely again. She begins to wonder if maybe she's upset the goddess and is being scolded in a way… but she's not sure how to fix it if this is the case as she's not actually sure of what she's done. She supposes she could try asking...

But somehow, with all that's going on – she isn't sure she wants to know the answer.

…

Oh, no. Please. She doesn't want to be here again. Not after what happened last time. It's calm enough right now, sure. The sun shines bright, the white sand sparkling prettily in its golden light. The breeze ruffling the leaves of the trees at her back is cool and calming. But the waters are just a little too restless for such a beautiful day.

"Watch yeh mouth dis time, young one, and yeh'll have nothin to fear."

Spinning around to face the voice coming from behind her, she drops hastily into a curtsy. "My goddess."

Calypso places her hands on her hips and affects a look that makes her appear very much a worried, scolding mother. "Yeh know why yeh here."

Emily pauses, going down the long list of things she could've done and wondering which one could have her goddess both worried and upset. "Forgive me, my goddess." She says, respectful as she can be. "But I'm not sure I do."

"Yeh should know very well. Dis boy of yehrs. What are yeh tinkin?"

"Boy of – Alex?" She hedges, though this won't get her anywhere. Alex is no longer the only one her goddess could be talking about, but Emily's not ready to give in so easily. "I don't understand."

Her goddess scoffs, apparently in no mood for Emily's sass. The wind picks up a little. "Riley Connelly! Puttin him under dis spell yeh've cooked up!"

"Riley?" Emily can't help the way she begins to stutter as clouds begin to form in the once clear sky. "But – but my goddess, the vision you sent me, of the night my grandfather came to me, I thought…"

"That vision was meant as a warnin that yeh were runnin out of time! I was hopin, once I saw ye were growin to fancy de boy, dat yeh would come to look for a different way to get de key."

"I've tried!" Emily bursts, abruptly exasperated.

"Yeh've tried everythin but comin to me to begin with!" The goddess returns, and the clouds above begin to obscure the sun. Emily looks up and around, nervous. Calypso pauses, and after a moment the clouds disperse, the wind dying down again. "Did it not occur to yeh dat de vision I gave yeh of fightin yeh mother on de Dutchman was the de way it was meant to happen?"

No... No, it hadn't. But now it has. Oh. That makes sense now. In fact, this revelation has both the visions making sense now. The vision of the fight on the Dutchman is, presumably, to show Emily just what she should prepare for. The one of the fight on the beach, where Alex ends up with a sword in his chest, well, that one is obviously to show her the beach isn't the way to go when given the option.

"But…" She tries to regain some calm. "But I've found another way, and Riley won't even remember. Right?"

Her goddess scowls. "And if he is de one to die? What den, hmm?"

"Are you saying – will he?" Alright, that was the wrong thing to say and she knows it immediately.

"I cannot tell ye dat and would not if I could!" The wind picks up again. "Dis is your choice, young one, I cannot make it for yeh, but I would hope yeh have sense enough to listen to Alex! He understands tings far better dan yeh seem ready to credit him for!"

Emily almost can't believe what she's hearing. "That's easy for you to say, seeing it all as you seem to. Isn't it?" Her goddess' expression turns downright thunderous, and Emily goes on quickly before that can translate to the skies above them. "Forgive me, my goddess, that was – I mean no disrespect. But if this is my decision, then why bring me here, why bother interfering? I don't understand."

The goddess eyes her, softening a touch, again looking more the worried mother. "Yeh were comin to fancy de boy." Emily can't deny this, not without lying outright, so she says nothing. The goddess nods once in easy understanding. "De boy loves yeh, and foolishly trusts yeh far more dan he should. Usin him like yeh are about to…" She shakes her head. "Such decisions can change yeh, in here." She reaches out to tap Emily's chest over her heart. "Tink bout what yeh are doin, young one."

Emily goes to retort, to say she has thought about it, that it's not as though she made this decision on a whim…but her goddess has had enough, it seems. The beach around Emily falls away, a piece at a time, and then she's back in her cabin and left, as usual, with nothing to do but ponder her own quite jumbled thoughts.

"So... Wait." Riley snakes a hand up to rub the back of his neck, nervous. "The things you can do – making stuff float about, creating fire and making it dance as you showed me – I'll be able to do that too?"

"For a time, yes. You'll be borrowing it all from me, and trust when I say I've plenty to share. And there's more to it than just what I've shown you. You'll be able to will yourself onto the Dutchman, they won't even have to know you're there."

"'Will' myself?"

"It's like – oh, I'm not sure how to describe it. You close your eyes and think where you want to end up and with a bit of luck you open them again and you're where you wanted to be." He just stares at her, bewildered. She resists the urge to roll her eyes. "Forget it. It's not important." She takes out a small, corked phial. It's full of a clear liquid that's tinged red. "This is what's important. I drink this, you give us a little kiss," she sends him a wink, "and the rest – well, you don't worry about the rest. I worry about the rest. You shouldn't even remember the rest."

"Shouldn't?" His voice cracks. She tries not to find it adorable. "Miss Emily – are you sure about this? I mean, about how this strange spell works?"

She isn't, if she's honest. She's never cast a spell on anyone before and can't know that she's got her first try right, her own control with her magic is iffy at best so his will be too, and her attempts at the disappear/reappear act she'd tried to describe to him have met with near disastrous failure on more than one occasion. But he has to be willing in the part he's playing, so confidence on her part is key. Her goddess' words from just the night before echo in her mind.

'De boy loves yeh…Usin him like yeh are about too…

'Think about what yeh are doin.'

What are her other options? Get it wrong without Riley involved and Alex gets killed. Get it right without Riley involved and Emily ends up with a sword through her own chest, and even if she'll live, that sounds unpleasant enough that she'll skip the experience, thanks very much. Her current plan isn't so bad in comparison. Riley could – no, will – make it aboard the Dutchman without anyone even knowing, and then he'll find the key – assuming her mother doesn't keep it on her person, but Emily's grandfather seemed to think she doesn't – and then get out the same way he came and hand it off to Emily and from there it'll all be a piece of cake.

She has a plan, and Riley will be fine, and she sends him an easy smile, looping an arm through his as she tucks the phial with the potion back into a hidden compartment in her corset. "Of course I'm sure, love. I wouldn't send you if I wasn't." She places a kiss on his cheek and begins leading him back out of her cabin and up on deck and he seems to buy it because he relaxes a fraction.

A voice whispers, somewhere in the back of her mind, that a silver tongue was supposed to be Alex's gift, and lately they've all but switched places entirely. She tries, for once, no to over think this one.

"I suppose it's really too late now." Riley says, a nervous chuckle behind the words. Night has fallen. If the moon is out, its light is obscured by the clouds that are now dominating the skies. There's been no sign of the Dutchman yet, not that this means anything anyway, but Emily's goddess has already sent her whispers of confirmation – whatever is going to be done, her mother is already close enough for them to get to it.

"Too late for what?" Emily asks, eyeing his shaking hands as they clasp the small phial with its red-tinged potion.

"To be worried of whether you're about to poison me."

Ah. That's right. He'd been worried she'd put something in the wine the first time they had dinner together, in her cabin. She allows a smile to tug at her lips. "Yes, I should think we've established that if killing you was my intention, I'd have got to it already." Killing him on purpose anyway.

"Suppose I should feel special, then." He pauses, glancing down at the phial. "If I ask you something… Miss Emily, will you tell me the truth?"

That's a rather worrying question. She covers his trembling hands with her own, stilling them, doing her best to continue appearing calm and confident. "Of course, love." And she's glad she'd shooed everyone else off to be busy with whatever else they can find to be busy with. The last thing she'd want just now is an audience.

"Why am I here now? I could've warned you about Captain Andrews and what he was planning with Peter. You might not have lost a man. Surely you've realized that by now. So – so I just want to know why I'm not…"

"Because you're not Andrews. And you're not Peter."

He meets her eyes with his worried, honest green ones. "But – please. If I'm different, tell me why." He pauses, gathering some courage perhaps? "It's just I think I know why, but I want to hear you say it, Miss Emily."

She nods slowly. "Because… You're all the things that make up a good man. And because those are hard to come by and," the truth. For what he's about to do, it's the least she can give him, "and I'm afraid I may have fallen a bit in love, Riley Connelly."

His eyes light up in a way that sends a pang through her heart. "I think… I think I have too." He gives her a small smile. "Thank you for that, Miss Emily." He holds up the phial, his hands much steadier now, and drinks down its contents.

She leans in, preparing for the kiss. He cups her cheek, so gentle and sweet. "Oh, Riley." She murmurs. "I'm sorry." Their lips meet, and for a moment she doesn't know what's going on. There's a blinding flash of rose-red light, and Riley stumbles back, clutching his head and groaning in pain. He runs into some barrels behind him, nearly trips, causing Emily to shoot forward in the hopes of catching him. She's just beginning to worry something's gone horribly wrong when he straightens, his hands dropping slowly back to his sides as he looks at her again. She's startled into silence a moment. His eyes. The usually dark, almost bluish green orbs are now unnatural light and seem to almost glow in the dim light of the lamps around. "Riley?"

He straightens, posture becoming military-straight, hands clasped behind his back in the way Andrews had probably, at one time, tried hard to drill into him. "Yes, Miss Emily."

The emotionless response sends a shiver down her spine at how unnatural it is, but she tries to steel herself. She doesn't want to toy with him like this, but she has to know that this will work. "Send me that lamp there." She commands, pointing to the nearest lantern.

"Yes, Miss Emily." He replies again, in the same flat tone, and holds out a hand the same way she would, gesturing with two fingers. The lantern floats up and off its hook and sweeps easily through the air to her. She takes it, nodding. "Good. Alright. Now. Try to will yourself, like I told you."

"Yes, Miss Emily." He closes his eyes, lets out a breath, again just as she would do. She blinks, and he's gone. A brief moment passes and a board creaks behind her – she whirls around to find him standing with hands behind his back again, waiting patiently for her next order.

She shakes her head, unnerved by the blank stare he's giving. "See what you get for running around with salty little sea girls like me?" He doesn't respond, not that she'd expected he would. "I do hope you won't remember this. Right then. If you can tap into my head, you should know what your destination looks like. Be quiet, be quick. Don't let the Captain catch you. If anyone else does, you demand to speak to Bootstrap, tell him Emily Elizabeth sent you. He'll help…if he can. Ah, matter of fact, mention my name first thing. Might save your life long enough… long enough. Why do I never seem to have enough time lately? It's always just long enough." She shakes her head, takes a breath, hesitates. This is really it. All she has to do is say the word now and he'll be gone. She can live with this. Riley will be fine and she can live with this and he'd done this willingly because he trusted her and she absolutely knows what she's doing. That's why I'm captain. Maybe, if she just keeps repeating that to herself as much as everyone else, she'll start to believe it too. "Well. Off you go, then." Pirate. She hears Alex in her head, only instead of sounding playful he sounds disappointed.

"Yes, Miss Emily." Riley replies a final time. Once again, she blinks, and he's gone, and it's done, and she knows instantly that her goddess had been right, because she already doesn't quite feel the same.

Pirate. Selfish, manipulative pirate. Sent 'im to 'is death. Feel proud of yerself? The Alex in her head echoes the real Alex's words from a few days earlier.

"Cap'n!" The call comes from up in the crow's nest. "Land ho!"

Is she proud of herself? Not yet. She'll reserve that feeling as her reward for Riley making it out safe and sound. Now? Emily turns to the shadowy, irregular silhouette in the distance as the clouds above break enough for a few rays of moonlight to shine through. Taking out the compass, she opens it up and finds that it is, in fact, pointing north – straight ahead. Now, it appears, she has work to do.