The last thing he remembers, even vaguely, is uncorking the second bottle. That being said, it's really a wonder he'd actually made it all the way back to the cabin he'd been occupying.
He's not even sure he's fully sober yet, but the pain of the drinks after effects coupled with the memory of why he'd started in on the rum in the first place has him reaching for the bottle still sitting next to the bed. It's empty. Probably for the best. He wishes he could hide away forever, but knows he can't. Imogene will come for him eventually, right? Imogene...
He gets a strange flash at the thought of her. She's backed against a wall and he's all but devouring her lips, so plump and kissable... A strangely pleasant dream to have after the past days events, he thinks.
Even being out on a ship again he's tried to remain more put together, keeping coat and vest and tying his hair back neat. As it is on this morning, he doesn't have the energy to be bothered with anything more than ensuring his shirt is tucked in. Looking very much the scruffy pirate he once was with the tattoo on his chest peeking out from beneath his shirt and the one on his wrist in very full view, he makes the trek above decks. Imogene should still be below, in her cabin, where he'd been insisting she spend most of her time. This morning, however, the door to said cabin is left wide open. She hadn't even bothered to pretend.
For some reason, he isn't suprised.
He could swear the bright morning sun near kills him. Whatever happens to still be swimming around in his stomach roils, threatening to force its way back out, but he breathes deep and manages to keep it down. The internal battle means he's somewhat belated in noticing the glances being sent his way by the crew. They aren't hostile, exactly, but they do seem wary of him. Understandable. He keeps his head down as he stalks across the deck.
He doesn't know where Imogene will be, but he does know that she's taken a liking to Jo. He heads to the galley first and is rewared with just what he'd been hoping to see.
He knows she's been bored. Life on a ship isn't always over exciting to start with. Being simply a passanger, a woman confined to quarters no less, would make it well nigh unbearable. So he doesn't blame her, really, for the fact she's found something to do with herself. That something, at this particular moment, is peeling apples, presumably for something Jo intends to cook up.
A board creaks beneath his feet and a curse slips past his lips. Imogene and Jo both send startled glances in his direction. The older woman's eyes harden upon taking in the sorry sight of him, but she only 'humphs' and promptly goes back to working on whatever stew is likely to be lunch. (Though, Alex has no alusions. She'll have an eye on him.) Imogene, however, much to his bewilderment, sends him a sweet little smile. "Good morning, dear. Hows your head? It's not too bad, I do hope." Her brows crease adorably in worry.
He's not thinking very clear. It takes him several moments more to answer than it should, and he's not particularly articulate anyway. "Not too..." He shakes his head. "I'll survive, anyway."
She appears unbothered by him. "Well, you can hide down here a while if it's alright with Miss Gibbs." The older woman raises an eyebrow but only shrugs. Imogene pats the chair next to her. "Come and sit down, dear." She sets an untouched apple down on the table. "Try to eat something."
He hovers in the doorway a moment longer, running a hand through his hair. Imogene brings up an apple and the peeling knife as though to go to work again but her eyes aren't on the apple. They're on Alex's chest. In fact, they sweep over the rest of him too, just breifly, but the look in those sky blue orbs... he gets another flash from that wonderful little dream he apparently had and abruptly feels like she's just ravished him with her eyes. The feeling is not unlike what he'd get after a stroll down the main street of Tortuga.
Except it's Imogene, and she manages to be ladylike in even this, calmly going back to her apple peeling. "And to think. I'd have never known you had another tattoo." She'd already glimpsed the sparrow on his arm once or twice.
Alright. Fine. He'll play along. He ventures across the room and drapes himself in the chair next to her. "No reason you should've. I 'ave five, by the way." He snatches up the apple, trying to gauge whether his stomach will handle it. The dimmer lighting in the galley seems to have helped the pain. He takes a small bite.
"Mmm. I can't wait to see the others."
From somewhere further back in the galley an incredulous laugh sounds out.
He near chokes on the bit of apple and turns wide eyes on Imogene, disbelieving. She's not looking at him, is still focused on her task, but he can clearly see it: there's just the tiniest hint of a smirk playing at the corners of her lips. "Imogene. Is - is that really..."
"Appropriate? Oh, not at all I should say, but goodness knows it's tame in comparison."
"In comparison?" He scowls. She's making no sense. "In comparison to what?"
The smirk on her lips grows and he's not sure what to make of it, the way it starts his blood to heating right up. "Oh, don't you remember, darling?"
"I'd swear I can still smell the drink on him even from here." Jo, sounding amused. "My guess is your answers no, girl."
"Remember what?" He glances back at Jo, demanding now, but neither woman looks too intimidated.
"Oh, I suppose I could give you a reminder." She reaches out to cover his hand with her own, rubbing her tumb over top of it, and then she's leaning in...closer...closer...they're lips just inches apart now. "One would think it wouldn't take much to jog your memory."
His hands grow sweaty and shaky. He swallows hard. "Im-Imogene." He pulls his hand away from hers. "Please. This is not..."
Her sky blue eyes grow guarded and angry. She sits straight in her chair again, all at once, goes back to peeling her apple. "I know. Not appropriate. Only, it seems appropriate really applies to me and me alone. Everyone else just does as they please." She glances sharply at him. "Expecting that I should deal with it quietly without bothering to talk to me."
He closes his eyes. Runs a hand through his hair again and tries to think. "Imogene, talk to me now. What is it I did?"
She slams the knife down on the table, hard enough he jumps. "You were never - you've always been so gentle. You never once raised your voice in my presence, much less when speaking to me. And now, instead of sitting me down and explaining to me why you are so wary of these men who have, in fact, been ever so kind to me...you shout at me and then confine me to my cabin. And then yesterday...oh." She shakes her head, and gets to her feet. "I haven't the words, except to say I can certainly see the pirate in you now. And yet you have the nerve to ask of me what it is you've done?" Her hand flies up and before he can even think what it is she must be about to do, the palm of that tiny hand connects with his cheek. "I thought you to be different than all the other awful cads my mother had introduced to me as suitors." The hand that had just slapped him now comes up to delicately wipe away the tear rolling down her cheek. "Anymore, I am not so sure." And with this, she sweeps out of the room.
Alex doesn't go after her, thinks he's probably far better off leaving her be. His hand comes up to rub the cheek which he now realizes (with some confusion) was already rather sore to start with.
"Well." Jo says quietly. "You can color me impressed. Girls got far more guts than I'd've thought."
He slumps forward to rest his arm on the table and his head on his arm, the pounding in his head reaching a crescendo again. "Blast and bugger it. Women in general aren't bad luck. It's having a woman. That's when you know you're in trouble."
Jo snorts. "Sounds to me like that only applies consistent like if your name happens to be 'Sparrow'. Maybe you ought to've quit while you were ahead, eh?"
He only peers up to glare at her with one eye.
"Alright. So what's your plan?" Alex hands the spy glass back off to Emily as his own belly begins doing summersaults.
"My plan was to leave what gets done up to you." She replies. "My Queen is faster than she looks, you know that. Winds on our side, too. Coud be they'll never catch up."
It's very clearly a ship of the royal fleet on their tale. Alex knows very well that battles with Navy ships are rather routine with the Queen, or at least they certainly had been. But with Imogene on board he's tempted to see if the vessel in the distance can be outrun. Well, part of him is.
(The other, bigger part of him is thinking that Imogene Ellsworth is still barely speaking to him and that Alex-the-pirate's-son could use the distraction.)
"We've sunk bigger ships."
"With the old Queen, no less." Emily concedes, and there it is again, that smirk just tugging at her lips. She knows him. "Miss Ellsworth can barricade herself in my cabin. She'll be safe enough down there." A pause as she gauges his reaction to the suggestion, and her smirk grows. "All hands?"
He returns her smirk, and spins around to go find Imogene as Emily's boisterous alto begins shouting out the familiar commands.
"All hands on deck! Make ready on the guns!"
...
"Alex, what is it, what's happening?"
"There's a ship coming up on us fast, you're to barricade yourself in the captain's cabin until one of us comes for you."
"O-oh, but Alex, what sort of ship..."
"It's not important, love, just please..."
"But-but can't you stay with me, can't you..."
"Don't be ridiculous."
"I am not being ridiculous!" She rounds on him as they make it down to Emily's cabin, thoroughly indignant. "I do not wish to be widowed before I am actually married in the first place, that's all!"
"Oh," he replies on impulse, words dripping with sarcasm, "so you are still worried about gettin to the wedding? Considering this is the most you've spoken to me in over a week, I'd 'alf begun to wonder."
Her eyes widen as two tiny fists clench in anger but he all but shoves her into the room before she can say a word in return, slamming shut the door.
...
He's back to back with Emily, on the deck of the other ship. There's not so much cannon fire anymore, mainly because their opponents are too focused on the fact they've been boarded. He wonders if the crew of the relatively small Navy vessel really even know who it is they're up against; most of them are young and too rigid in the way they fight with their blades. Inexperienced.
Swipe, block, parry. Disarm but try not to hurt them too bad. It's over before he knows it.
Emily has the Navy crew tied to the mast of their ship and leaves the captain in the fashion that is something of her signature; on his knees, hands tied but loose enough for some give, a knife sticking out of the deck between his legs. He'll get free eventually and set his crew to limping back to whatever port they call home, shamed but alive.
She sets the rest of the Queen's crew to scouring the ship for anything of value in typical pirate fashion, but Alex is hardly interested in any of that. He snatches up a rope and swings back over to the Queen, thinking to tell Imogene it's over now.
"Filthy pirates." A voice grumbles low, accompanied by the sound of a pistol being cocked.
Alex freezes just as he steps below decks, just a short trek down the corridor from Emily's cabin. He turns to the officer who had apparently been lying in wait just for this. "You'll be killed, soon's the rest of them get back."
"Sounds far more worth it than skulking back home to..."
"St-stop, don't you d-dare!"
The officer turns slowly, confusion plain on his face as he takes in the sight of what's waiting behind him. "You must be joking."
Alex pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head, unable to believe... It's Imogene. Standing just outside Emily's cabin with a pistol held in two shaking hands and the sight is thoroughly ridiculous.
"I most - most certainly am not! Drop it!" The Navy boy glances back at Alex, who in turn just heaves a tired sigh. "I said drop it!"
"Now look here, Miss, I..." The Navy boy takes a step towards Imogene, who aims the pistol downward and fires (and looks quite confused when nothing happens) and Alex lunges forward to takle the Navy boy and the ensuing scuffle sees Imogene retreating back into Emily's cabin, dropping the pistol as she does so.
The Navy boy had a knife hidden somewhere, and they end up with Alex against a wall and that knife pressed firm to his belly. He snorts at the Navy boy. "Drop it, and I promise you'll live."
The boy just snorts, shaking his head. "I won't go back just to tell the Admiral we encountered a such a lovely ship full of pirates and didn't manage to kill even one. And what is with the lovely Miss, anyway? Where did you steal her from?"
Alex would've felt sorry for what he does next, if not for the last comment. Bringing up an arm lightning quick, he sends his elbow slamming into the Navy boys gut. The knife that was pressed to Alex's belly leaves a cut there, probably a nasty one, but the heat of the moment leaves him numb. The Navy boy staggers back, Alex shoots to the side and snatches up the pistol still lying out in the open, and wastes no time in aiming it at the Navy boy.
"Who says I stole 'er from anywhere? She tried to shoot you over me."
The Navy boy is coughing a bit, clutching his stomach. "Pretty little thing like that? Bet it wasn't hard to get her all confused. You keep her locked up like that down here every time there's a fight going on? Suppose she doesn't half know what you're really capable of."
"And I'd suppose, you don't either." Eyes hard, Alex cocks the pistol and just begins to put pressure on the trigger...
"Alex! Alex, what are you doing?" Imogene. She's flying the few steps over to him, hands tugging at his arm. "You're not going to - to kill him." She sounds incredulous, as if she really can't believe he'd even think of it.
In fact, if this had happened but a week or so earlier, he wouldn't have even contemplated pulling the trigger. But it's all beginning to wear on him, and the pirate's son whispers 'why not?'
"Alex." Imogene insists. "Alex. Please. This isn't who you are anymore. You've told me, so many times. Pull that trigger and none of it matters."
He tears his eyes away to meet hers, all soft and frightened and brimming with tears. Scowling, he growls at the Navy boy. "On your feet. Now, you stuck up, spoiled Navy prat." Next to him, Imogene flinches upon hearing such langauge escape his lips, but he ignores her, gesturing with the gun. "Come on. Get moving, up the stairs, and you might show some gratitude. This pretty, confused little thing just saved your life."
Following close behind, Imogene huffs. "Well, an apology would be nice. I am not so totty-headed as that, thank you very much." A pause. "Am I?"
Alex relaxes a fraction as the Navy boy crosses the plank back onto his own ship. A smile just tugging at his lips, he pulls her in with an arm around her waist. "Darling, I give you points for bravery." He plants a kiss in her hair. "But you have to cock the pistol before trying to shoot it."
A blush creeps up to color her cheeks. She ducks her head, hiding behind a curtain of light brown curls. "Oh."
Gods, she's adorable. He chuckles. "It's alright. You were distraction enough. Now..." He chokes on the words that were to follow. He's just grown dizzy. There are spots dancing before his eyes. His hand flies to his belly, and comes back covered in red. "Right. Oh, bugger." He manages to mutter.
"Alex." Imogene pulls away, looking worried. "Alex!" And she reaches out almost as though to catch him, though the idea is ridiculous. "Oh - oh help! Captain!"
He hits the deck hard, and the world around him fades slowly to black. He hears Imogene pleading with him to answer but everything feels so fuzzy and he's not sure he's breathing even, so his lips might move but no sound makes it past them.
Wait. Imogene.
I love you.
"Is he..."
"I can' say for certain, Miss. He ain' come to yet. If 'e does, chances are 'e'll live."
"And...if he does not."
Silence.
"If he don't...well. Talk to 'im, Miss. Might could be 'e can 'ear, who knows? If 'e can, I'd think ye're 'is best reason to make it back to us."
.
So Imogene Ellsworth sits beside the man who should've already been her husband, clutching his cool hand in both her own as she tries to keep talking and begs, quietly and through tears that seem to come from a bottomless reservoir, that he come back to her.
If he does not...
She cannot contemplate it.
She could fix him. She could fix him. It would be draining for both of them. Painful for him, the process long and tedious. All part of the price taken for healing magic. But she could do it, and he would be saved for certain.
Except, she can't, actually.
Alex hadn't been precisely wrong to say she spends quite a bit of time half in the bottle, but the reason behind it is far more complicated than what it would sound. Emily Turner has a temper. A nasty one. Everyone knows it. Her fiery attitude and quick tongue is half the reason she is...well, where she is. But the more she played with her magic, the more she learned it and got comfortable with it...
Jo had said that for herself and most others, control was easy once you got a better feel for the power granted you.
This has proven very untrue for Emily.
In fact, the more she learned, the more often she woke up to find half her cabin floating about in the air around her head. And it escelated. Next thing she knew she was nearly setting off the powder magazine because the cabin boy had somehow manage to spill a keg of powder while they were in the middle of a battle and she'd been so frustrated with his clumsiness.
At first, she tried to simply be conscious of it. Tried to learn how to channel her anger better, and then how to do the same with any other strong emotion. But this only took her so far. Then for a while she tried to keep the rum flowing steady, and this worked some too...but this is a temporary fix, and she really only resorts to it when particularly stressed. She isn't yet tired or desperate enough to try making it a permanent solution.
The only way, she'd really found, to hold her magic back was not to use it at all. And she especially avoids the more difficult stuff. Doing anything that at all tests the limits of her power only makes it harder to control.
So, yes...she could heal Alex. But that would require her to allow a lot of carefully contstructed barriers to crumble, and with a wound so nasty healing him will be quite a task. Will she be able to re-build those barriers again? She doesn't know, but...
But then again, what if he never wakes on his own?
She'd thought she'd moved so well on from him. But the thought of a world without him in it somewhere, at least... she can't bear the thought. And something about that is startling.
.
"No." She says, low and dangerous.
Her mother doesn't flinch, doesn't bat an eyelash. There is a hint of sympathy there somewhere, but she doesn't express it further. She knows well enough what Emily does and does not need right now. "Hello to you too, darling."
"No." Emily repeats, her rage barely contained. "This isn't a 'hello, darling' sort of visit. You're working. And I'm telling you, you can't have him."
Elizabeth nods, heaving a heavy and tired sigh. "Well, I certainly don't want him. You still need to learn when to just listen. I'm here because you could save him and Calypso herself all but said you'd be a fool not to."
"Isn't there some..." Emily waves a hand, trying to appear flippant. She doesn't want her mother to know how far through she's thought this. "Some sort of balance what gets upset if you mess with these sorts of things?"
"Fate isn't so simple a thing. Sometimes there are two different paths you can take. Now, mind you, neither is better than the other. Both are complicated. But it seems to me like it'd be terribly ungrateful not to take the chance at choosing if you've got it. Certainly, not everyone has that chance as you do now."
Silence. Emily stares at the bottle in her hands. It's just about full. She's sore tempted to crawl into it and never come out again but there's a little voice in her head whispering 'you'll never forgive yourself'.
Her mother goes on, gentler. "I understand. To save him, you'll have to wake up what feels like a monster inside you, and that's a frightening thought."
"What do I do? Sometimes it seems as though...maybe you know things." She looks up at her mother, meets the older womans young-old eyes. "Tell me, what should I do?"
"I can't tell you that, you have to decide." She looks pained, apologetic, like she wishes she could be of more use. "I can tell you that something is coming. Something bigger than all of this, and if you can't do this now, it might mean things will be all the harder on you later."
Emily nods slowly. "Right now, my not doing this will mean the sweetest little saint I've ever laid eyes on is made a widow before she actually gets to be the bride."
"Could you live with that?" Her mother emphasizes, because there is quite a lot they have all come to discover that Emily Turner can live with deciding.
Brows furrowing as she surprises herself, Emily shakes her head. "I..don't know that I could." Glancing at her mother, she opens the window next to her, climbs out it to the balcony beyond, hauls back, and throws the bottle in her hands as far as she can. "But I don't want to find out."
"I am proud of you." Her mother comes up next to her, planting a kiss on her temple. "As will your father be, when I tell him. Be strong, my dearest."
With that, her mother is gone. Emily slips back into her cabin, and settles in for what promises to be a long night.
A world away now, pacing restless in her cabin aboard the gods-forsaken ship she's forced to call home, Elizabeth Turner begs for further news of her daughter. "I know she'll save him, but I fear... she still loves him."
"She does." Calypso replies. "So deep and true a feelin' does not so easily fade as our Emily hopes."
"But is there not a way to help her?" Elizabeth struggles to put her own feelings, her own deep worries, into words. "Only - I know better than most what it can do to a person, having their heart torn apart again and again and if there were some way, any way at all, to spare her..."
A pause, and the goddess seems almost thoughtful. "Dere could be a way...but it may not end de way yeh would hope."
"What is it?" Elizabeth can't keep herself from asking.
"T'is possible I could remind young Alex of de woman he once t'ought Emily to be. But he tries to be a man of honor, and I do not t'ink he would be so quick to leave his future bride. If he gives Emily dis sliver of hope and does not follow t'rough..."
"But there'd be a chance?" The goddess looks distressed in a way only Elizabeth would be allowed to see, but she nods all the same. "Then do it." Elizabeth replies, decisive. "I beg you. Give it that last chance."
"And if it does not come to what you hope it will? Wit' de power Emily possesses, she could do much harm. Her continued refusal to use it at all could make de outcome worse, still."
"Whatever the case, I'll accept full responsibility." Elizabeth offers, without no hesitation. "I owe her that and more for all that I put her through."
The goddess gives a solemn nod, and disappears.
They don't see much of Captain Peg for the next few days. Knowing of the relationship she'd had with Alex, most everyone figures she's greaving for the loss it's almost certain she's about to face. They leave her be, as they mostly do Imogene, who never leaves Alex's side.
The kindly old ships doctor comes in every so often, checking on Alex (and, really, Imogene as well). Nothing with Alex changes. Imogene has grown shaky and withdrawn, and refuses to eat. He keeps that eye on her, but mostly leaves her be. Imogene still breaks down sobbing in spurts, but mostly now she is silent. She's nothing left to say, save for to beg him quietly. Plead with him to just stay with her.
She's fallen asleep one morning, her head resting on the bed close to his, when the door opens and light footsteps sound across the room. She wakes with a bit of a start, and spins around quick when she realizes someone is coming up behind her...
But it is only the captain. "You should go and eat something."
"Oh. I know, I just..." She turns to Alex again, scooping up his hand. "I want to be here if..."
"I understand." The captain replies, quiet, laying a hand on Imogene's shoulder. "But what will he think of it? The idea that you'd sit and waste away with him?"
Tears prick Imogene's eyes yet again. "I-I begin to worry he will never think much at all of it, for he will not come back to me to see."
Silence for a few beats. The captain moves in closer to Alex, looking him over. "Oh, I should think he's not a lost cause just yet. Can't be that much of a whelp."
Something in the way she's talking, in the tone of her voice...Imogene looks up, brows furrowed. "Captain?"
The woman looks down at her with eyes clearer than Imogene remembers them usually being, and winks.
Eyes wide, Imogene stands and snatches up the captain's hand in her own. "You think you can bring him back to me...to us?"
The captain's hand begins to glow that lovely shade of blue, making Imogene's hand tingle pleasantly. "I think you should go and get something to eat, and take your time."
Imogene nods. "Alright. Yes, of course, I should..." A hopeful grin spreads her lips. "Oh, Captain, thank you!" And she darts out of the room with a sudden nervous, hopeful energy.
.
Emily watches her go, and scrubs a tired hand over her face. Her stomach is doing flip flops. Her heart feels ready to pound its way right out of her chest. She feels shaky, though this could have more to do with the fact she'd been unable to eat much herself the past few days, but it's strange all the same. It's all running free and unchecked because she'd decided to let it, just to see what might happen, and she likes it but doesn't and the result is that she knows she'll probably be at the rum come this evening.
But first, she has work to do.
She pulls back the sheets over Alex. Works his shirt up. Cuts away at the bandages, slow and careful and meticulous. The wound is a nasty sight. Deep enough it's impressive Alex made it as far as he did with it, and bleeding little enough now to be extra worrying when coupled with his too-pale skin.
"I do hope you'll be ready when I call in that favor you owe me. I'm saving it for something big, since you're so much trouble." A deep breathe. She closes her eyes and summons her magic, and notes the effects on her own body. Her hands steady. Her heart beat slows to normal. Her stomach settles, and she can breathe again. When she opens her eyes, her hands are glowing bright, and she's ready as she's going to get. "Alright, love. Don't hate me too much for how bad this hurts."
More than half the day is gone by the time she emerges. Imogene had, at some point or other, taken to waiting just outside the door. Emily had paused her work just long enough to cast a spell over the room so the other woman wouldn't hear any noises of pain from Alex. But now it is over, and she is exhausted in a way she hasn't experienced in some time, but her work is quite finished.
Imogene shoots to her feet when Emily opens the door. "Captain! Is - is he...?"
Emily's answering smile is small and tired but victorious. "Come see for yourself. He should wake up any moment now."
Imogene darts past her and into the room and snatches up Alex's hand as she kneels beside him. "Alex? Oh, please, please."
He groans a bit, his eyes fluttering.
"Alex." Imogene breathes, relief written all over the way tense muscles finally loosen and presses his hand to her lips. "Oh, I'm here, my love, it's me."
"Imogene..darling, I had the strangest dream. I was a pirate again...I thought I died."
Imogene's laughter rings out, almost hysteric. And then she lands an impressively solid slap to his arm. "Dreaming? You were playing pirate again and I'll have you know you did almost die and so help me, Alexander Jack Sparrow, if you ever do that to me again I shall - I shall have you locked up at the mansion back home! You'll never leave me again!"
Emily can't help it. She laughs now, too.
Imogene looks back at her, eyes widening. "Oh, and I should think I'm not the only one who thinks you a - a perfect idiot. Captain Peg has just spent the better part of this entire day..."
"Saving your sorry arse." Emily finishes for her. "You're welcome."
"Thank you." He replies, meeting her eyes.
She holds his gaze a moment, though she knows she shouldn't. His eyes. She'd missed having him around so she could get lost in those lovely chocolate orbs... tearing her eyes away, she scrubs a hand over her face. She's tired. Not thinking clear. She clears her throat. "Anyway, no getting out of that bed until you've had something to eat, at the very least. Something to eat and a nights rest would be even more preferable. Beyond that, my work here is done." She gives them a playful solute and makes to slip out of the room...
But not before she glances back and sees the way Alex pulls Imogene in for a kiss, right on her lips, slow but passionate.
An all too familiar sort of pang shoots through her heart.
She retreats hastily.
I think this one is shorter, but I'm writing way far ahead, so this just happens to be where it seemed best to cut it off. Anyway, Happy Thanksgiving! :)
Coming very soon: magic related shenanigans and a grand reappearance from our biggest villain.