"Mmmm...dar-darling, please...we can't just..." Imogene gasps as he finds just the right spot on her neck and nips at it just so. Her new husband has been perfectly incorrigible ever since they arrived. Well, really, so has she. But... "...we can't just stay inside all the time here, we just can't..."
Alex pulls back just far enough to gaze into her eyes. His chocolate brown orbs are full of mischief and a whole lot of something else that's making it hard for her to think clearly. "Ah, 'tis not but eight in the morning, love. We've the time." He glances down at her already too-pink and swollen lips, and swoops in to devour them again.
"Mmmm...oh, you, you..." She shoves him away, glaring, though there's a smile threatening to spread her lips. "You perfect rogue!"
He winks, and gives her that grin. "You love it."
She does. She huffs, hits his shoulder, and then pulls him forward by his shirt, and they're at it again...
The knock at the door almost goes completely unnoticed by both of them. But then it comes again, and a third time, and it's the lady of the house. "Oh, do forgive me you two, but I really think you ought to come down stairs. There's a surprise waiting just for you." She sounds amused in a way that suggests she knows just what they're up to and doesn't mind at all.
"Yes, yes, we'll be down in just, just a moment Ms. Margaret."
"I shall hold you to that." The old woman replies, laughter in her voice.
Alex's brows are furrowed. "Wonder what she's on about. A surprise?"
"Suppose we had better go and find out." Imogene replies, shoving at him to let her up and off the bed. "Besides. I'm famished."
...
Imogene freezes halfway across the foyer on their way to the drawing room. The sultry alto emenating from the room. She hasn't wanted to get her hopes up, but she's almost certain... She looks at Alex, eyes lighting up. Alex grins in return, and ushers her forward. Imogene can barely contain her excitement; she near bursts into the drawing room, a rather unladylike whirlwind of energy. The lady of the house lets out an exclaimation of surprise and scolding, but Imogene ignores her.
"It is you! Oh, how wonderful it is to see you!" She sweeps across the room and throws her arms around none other than Captain Peg. "I've missed you so, I am so very pleased you've come!"
The Captain seems a bit startled by the outburst and the sudden embrace, but she returns it, placing a sisterly kiss upon Imogene's cheek. "I missed you too, sweethear'," she replies with what sounds to be equal parts amusement and affection, "trus' me, I wouldn't've missed a chance to see you again for the world." She pulls back to hold Imogene at arms length, looking her over. "Goodness, girl. You're absolutely glowing!"
"We've been having just the most wonderful time here, I've never been so happy!" A pause. Imogene looks her over as well. There's something...something different about the Captain. She's standing a little straighter, her head held a little higher, and she looks less tired. Her eyes are clearer. "But I daresay Alex and I aren't the only ones having a better time of it. You look good too, Peg."
"Ah." Peg winks. "Livin' a pirate's life and doing it well, is all."
"Well, we shall try not to hold that against you." Alex interjects, airy. To spite the grin he'd offered Imogene earlier, he's grown much more resereved. He's hovering close by her, standing straight and stiff with hands held behind his back.
The amusement making Peg's eyes dance fades some as they land on Alex. "She never did, I don' think." There's just the slightest edge to her voice, but before Imogene can comment on that, the other woman is offering up an easy smile. "Congratulations are in order, though. I was pleased as pie to hear you'd got through with the weddin'."
The mood lightens again in an instant; Imogene loops an arm around Peg's and leads her out of the room towards the front porch as a servant comes in to tell them breakfast is served. "Oh, and it was just the most beautiful. Just the most wonderful time. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and..."
...
"What's the matter with you?" Peg asks him the next afternoon, as Imogene is preoccupied with talking Jo's ear off. He's been too subdued, too stiff in his mannerisms. Too sharp in any response to her. They hadn't been on terms that bad when last she'd seen him, and she really wants to know what gives.
Alex looks at her a moment - seems to be really scrutinizing her - before addressing his wife. "Imogene, darling, would you mind if Peg and I go have a word in private?"
Imogene's brow creases in worry. "Well, I would see no reason to object." She answers, albeit with reluctance.
Alex comes up to place a kiss upon her cheek. "We won't be very long."
They stroll through a lovely grove of orange trees. The sun is set low in a sky that's turning a lovely shade of orange itself, and Emily finds herself wishing she was in more pleasant company. Alex is silent, but keeps some distance from her. Something is clearly wrong.
"Well." She says after a time. "You've still not answered my question."
"Something's different about you. I'm trying to pinpoint what it is."
She shrugs. "I've no idea what you could mean. I'm as much myself as I've ever been." She strolls up closer to one of the orange trees, spotting a large and ripe specimen just waiting to be plucked. It's too high up, but that's not a problem for her. Holding out a hand, she sends a stream of magic snaking up to encircle the fruit and pluck it. It winds its way back down with ease, the orange landing in the palm of her hand.
"Well. I think I've found where it starts."
She tenses, just a little. She's growing more used to her magic all the time, and had forgotten herself for a moment there. "Ah. Right. Sorry, love." She holds up the orange. "Don' often get the pleasure of fruit so fresh, is all." She tosses it up and catches it, then plops herself down in the grass beneath the tree and begins to peel her treat.
He comes to lean against the tree, arms crossed. "Thought you hated your magic."
She shrugs. "Got a bit exhausting, tryin' to avoid it. M'workin' on a different approach."
"I suppose that could be it, then."
"It? What do you mean?" She squints up at him, brows furrowed. "I don' get it."
A pause. "Imogene, she noticed it to. You look different." He tilts his head. "I'm not sure I can explain. You just... and you sound different."
"You're not bein' very discriptive, love."
"How long 'as it been since you last 'ad a drink of something stronger than tea?"
She blinks at him, thoroughly bewildered now. She has to think on that one. "Not - not actually sure on that one, come to think of it." She shrugs, careless, popping a slice of orange into her mouth. "Though, one would figure you'd be proud of me for that."
He shrugs. "I am. Or, I would be, but you... I don't know. You just don't seem very Peg or very Emily or very any-version-of-you. I'm not quite sure what to do with you. I apologize, perhaps I'm being rather ridiculous."
"Perhaps. But I shall try not to hold that against you." She answers, sassy, her eyes dancing with mischief.
He rolls his eyes, and leans down to steal a slice of her orange.
"Master Sparrow!" The shout carries from several feet away yet; a maid is rushing towards them, frantic, her skirts bunched up in her hands as she runs. "Sir, you bes' come quick, they've found something on the beach!"
"Did she just call you Master Sparrow?" Emily voices her first thought. Master is usually reserved for one who has apprentices, or holds some wealth or power.
"What did they find?" Alex ignores her.
"Well, sir...I think you'd better jus' come see for yourself."
They start winding there way back to the house.
"Captain!" Jo is the first to greet them, and she's sounds more than a little bothered. Her face is contorted into her usual scowl-grimace, and her eyes are hard. She leads them into the house and down a hallway. "Now..I don't know what to do with this. She's in awful bad shape, after all."
Emily can see Imogene inside the room they've stopped at, sat on the edge of a couch and obviously alright. So that's not who Jo's referring to. "What's going on?"
"Well, that's just it, we don't really know, I'm just sayin'..."
"Jo." Emily snaps, a little annoyed now. "Stop babblin', for the love of the gods, woman." She shoves past the older woman and jogs the few paces closer to where Imogene is and...stops dead, her jaw setting and her fists clenching in an instant.
Imogene looks up at her, eyes wide in worry. "I can't imagine how she's ended up here like this. We found her washed up on the beach, the poor thing. I've already sent for the doctor who stays here on the island..."
"Jo." Emily near growls as a sick feeling twists her insides and something dark starts trying to overtake her. "Fetch my pistol. Now." There's a breif moment of hesitation. "Jo!" Emily barks.
The older woman starts, and nods. "Aye-aye, Cap'n." She darts off to do as told.
"Pistol?" Imogene asks, ever the picture of confusion and innocence. "What could you possibly need that for, Peg?"
Alex comes up along side Emily, gets a good look at the figure laid out on the couch, and just shakes his head. "Of all the places for her to wash up, and it has to be here, while you're visiting." He glances at Emily.
"Do you two know this woman?" Imogene demands before Emily can answer. "Who is she, then?"
Jo comes jogging back up to hand Emily off her sword and a pistol for her to arm herself with. Peg aims the pistol at the castaways head and cocks it. Goddess, she thinks, I could fire right now and...
"No!" Imogene shoots to her feet and darts forward to throw herself at Peg's side, tugging at her arm. "The poor thing's entirely defenseless! You can't shoot her like this, you simply can't!"
Pirate. The response hovers just at the tip of Emily's tongue. The only problem is, the person asking her to play fair right now is Imogene.
"Jo told me what happened. I won't blame you, Peg." Alex interjects. "But Imo does 'ave a point. Besides," he goes on, and he doesn't actually sound terribly bothered by any of this, "we'd never get the stain out of that poor sofa."
"I'll buy you another."
"Imo would never forgive you."
"Imo is right here, you know," Imogene makes herself known again, her voice shrill, her fists clenched in indignation, "and I demand you tell me who this woman is and why on Earth you would so wish for her death!"
"I would so wish for her death," Emily responds coolly, "because she very nearly brought about mine."
Silence.
Eyes widening, Imogene's hands fall away from Emily's arm. "Please." She says, more subdued. "Explain this to me first, and then we can decide what's to be done with her. No matter what, I won't have you - you settling such awful business in here."
It pains her to do it, but Emily tucks her pistol into her belt, and allows herself to be lead out of the room.
The evening is peaceful quiet. The sun has set in a cloudless sky, painting it a lovely pink-orange color. The crew of the Sea's Queen are scattered across the deck, enjoying the cool calm of the evening air.
Tim Andrews has settled himself up in the crow's nest, staring at the sky as the color fades to black and stars blink into visibility. He doesn't often join his crewmates, partly because some of them are less than friendly to him, and partly because he would have trouble feeling comfortable with them if they weren't.
Tonight, he is lost in thoughts of the past. He doesn't notice Riley Connelly climbing up to join him until the young man is sitting himself on the crow's nest beside Tim, holding up a bottle. "I'll, ah, just leave it if you don't want the company."
Tim finds, these days, that his mood in relation to anything is indifferent at best. But tonight he thinks he would rather more than just 'not mind' the company if it's Connelly sitting beside him. "Mmm. Drinking alone is a dangerous thing for me these days. Doesn't stop me from it, but I won't object to some company."
Connelly nods, and sits himself beside Tim. For a moment, the two men just stare off into nothing in silence. Connelly removes the cork from the bottle and drinks, then offers it to Tim. The men down below them begin playing a lively song with battered but well tuned instruments.
Tim remembers something, and finds no point in not coming out with it. "I've been meaning to tell you. I met Miss Procter."
Riley glances at him, sharp and startled. "Sarah? When?"
"Oh, some years ago. Just after my time as a prisoner on this ship ended. She'd sent letters to the Admiral, pleading for word of you, and he'd been too busy..." Tim falters. Too busy and important to answer to a lovesick, heartbroken girl begging for news of a boy she grew up alongside. It had seemed a little cruel to Tim even then. "In any case," he goes on to spite his thoughts, "she finally came to London and just happened run into me. Dumb luck, I suppose. She was shy but determined. I told her what could have become of you, and what more likely had, I thought she deserved the truth. I...uhm, arranged for her to take with her the compensation that would have been due your mother had you been killed. A selfish gesture on my part actually, her tears stabbed at what conscience I've maintained. She was a lovely girl even then, I can only imagine what a hard time of it she's had if she's remained unwed as she swore she would."
"She has. We've exchanged letters on and off. Erm, none lately, now that I think of it. I've been..." Connelly blinks, brows furrowing a bit as he stares down at the bottle still held in Tim's hand. He shakes his head, clearing his throat. "Thank you, Mister Andrews." He steals back the bottle.
"I should think it was the least I could do, Mister Connelly." Tim raises a brow. "And honestly, 'mister' is little better than 'captain'. You might just call me Tim."
A smirk tugs at Connelly's lips. "Only if you'll call me Riley."
"Fair enough."
A pause. Riley grows quieter as he goes on. "Do you think much of the time..." He seems to be struggling with something. "The time before. Before we first ran into Peg."
"I never much did, until now. Coming full circle and seeing what's become of you, I can't help but to think of it."
"What's become of me?" Riley looks Tim over, pointed.
Tim snatches back the bottle, abruptly annoyed. "Drinking and whoring, a common pirate. I would have no sympathy for you if not for the thought worming it's way into my head upon occasion that you would never have ended up here if not for me." He takes a greedy gulp of the rum. "But then, you did pay me back for that, didn't you?"
He doesn't need to elaborate. He sees it on Riley's face. The boys voice goes cold as he replies. "Is that what you think? That my standing by her was just pay back?"
"I never could find much more reason behind it."
"He killed one of her men. A pirate kills a Navy man and it's grounds for a hanging, no questions asked. I didn't like it, but it was just. Peter should've known better than to pull the trigger, the bull-headed idiot." The statement is harsh, but Riley voices wavers, just a touch. It pains him to think of this. "And anyway, look where you've ended up for all your loyalty to King and country. A rum-pot deckhand what takes his orders from pirates." He steals back the bottle.
Tim glances sharply at Riley, a nasty reply on the tip of his tongue, but it dies on his lips. Riley's right. And the one who really landed Tim here is their infernal Captain, not Riley himself. "I'll kill her, if I ever get the chance." Staring ahead into nothing again.
Riley's staring ahead as well, and nods once. "And I won't be the one to get in your way, I think." He passes the bottle back off.
The men below them break out into raucous laughter.
Riley glances down at the bottle Tim passes back off. It's already more than half empty. "What say we go down and see what the lads are up to?"
Tim hesitates. "They won't want me involved."
"They'll get over it." Riley replies, a smirk on his lips as he produces a key from a pocket in his vest. "As it happens, I'm the the only one what can fetch us more drinks."
An amused smile tugs at Andrews lips. They make their way down.
"Oh, Captain, I understand, I do." Imogene is so fretful that Alex seems more worried about her than their current conundrum. He tries to wrap an arm around her, calm her down, but she will have none of it. She goes on as though he isn't there. "I think I could even...I think I could even stand it, the idea of you, you... you having your revenge, if it all happened just as you said. Just as you said." She emphasizes. They all know Emily a little too well.
Emily scowls. There's a storm brewing behind her eyes and her voice is dangerous low as she asnwers. "It did happen just as I said. I wouldn't lie about this, Mrs. Sparrow." There's a cold edge to her voice.
Imogene places her hands on her hips, and scowls, unafraid to spite knowing how dangerous the woman before her could be if she chose to. "Now don't you take that tone with me! For my own conscience I must be certain with a thing like this."
Emily's eyes roll. "Look, I promise alright? I really swear it."
Imogene nods. "Alright, well, that's that then. But even still. She's not even conscious. I can't just let you have her, not like this, there'd be no - no real justice in that at all!"
"Justice?" Emily snarls. "You forget who you're talking to! I mean to make it quick and easy! If the positions were somehow reversed, that vile, black-hearted creature you're defending would have me kept as some sort of slave, I'd bet my life on it! Or tortured until she decided to keelhaul me. I promise to shoot her and be done with it but I can't..." She slams a fist down on the table.
"Cap'n!" Jo interjects at this, eyes widening in a bit of alarm. "I know Adrienne wouldn't be half as merciful but..." She hesitates as Emily glances sharply at her, but plows on. "...I think, perhaps, Miss Imo's got a point."
Silence, for several long moments. A servant - one of the more large and powerful men working in the house - comes in to murmur to Imogene, sending a wary glance at Emily. Imogene waves a hand sharply, dismissing him, and thinks a moment. "Peg, I'm sorry. Please, let's all go to bed. Our heads will be clearer come morning, we can figure how to deal with this then."
Emily brings a hand up to rub at her neck and doesn't answer save for a nod.
Imogene turns to the servant still hovering close by. "Do we happen to have any spirits kept around? Only, I'm sure a nice tot of rum would do you good, Captain, you've been with us since yesterday and not a drop since."
The servant murmurs a 'yes Missus' and moves to disappear again...
"No." Peg waves the idea off, absent. "I'm not much in the mood for a drink, thank you swee'eart."
Three pairs of eyes land on her, and silence follows.
She understands she is dreaming but she cannot wake herself. The rifle fire is as loud to her ears as if it were happening again, the bullets whizzing past, just missing her. She can feel herself slip and fall. Can feel the panic as she hears her brother scream and the realization overtakes her; they've got him again.
"Get in the boat, Adrienne!" Her Papa growls.
He is captured and the long boat falls to the water with a splash. All that saves her are the clouds covering up the moon and stars - it is so dark, no one on the ship she's escaped can see her.
"Start rowing, Adrienne! Row for yer life, m'girl, and don't ye dare look back!"
"Je viendrai pour vous deux!" She shouts back, though it may be lost in the strengthening winds.
The storm hits not too long after that. The waves toss her about something fierce and it's a miracle the rickety long boat stays intact so long. After a point, she remembers nothing more than the feel of being cold, so very cold...
Which is why she's tempted to stay just where she is when she wakes to find she is dry and warm and lying on something cushioned. In fact, she wouldn't even feel a need to open her eyes, if not for the fact that her stomach lets out a very loud growl.
When her eyes do shoot open, she finds she is in a very large room with a fire blazing in the hearth. She's laid out on a couch and...
It takes mere moments for her to remember what has happened. Instinct born of years living as a pirate takes over - thinking she could be anywhere and knowing it best to assume she isn't exactly amongst friends, she gets to her feet. She feels shaky and weak, but isn't sure if she's got time to lose. Her boots are set out near one end of the sofa; she shoves them on and darts over to the far wall of the room, which is dominated by windows. She begins trying them one by one, because surely one of them...
"Cap'n?" Riley calls out later, squinting into the dim light narrowly cast by the lanterns hanging off the mast. He's confused a moment; he'd fallen asleep, and the half moon is covered by clouds now. He wouldn't normally allow himself the luxury of sitting long enough to fall asleep while on watch, but with the captain gone and the past days having been so quiet and lazy...
There it is again. Boards creak; someones sneaking.
Riley gets to his feet and sways in place a moment, blinking as his vision goes fuzzier. He hopes it isn't the captain he'd heard. She'll have his head for being drunk again, much less drunk asleep while on watch. He curses his fellow crewmen. They were the ones who decided get a drinking game going...It takes a moment for his mind to catch up - no, of course it isn't the captain. He'd know her one-legged gait anywhere, and she wouldn't be working so hard at keeping quiet.
Boards creak, louder this time. Whoever it is, they let a curse slip, soft but not a whisper. And not in English. In fact, if he didn't know better, he'd say..that was French.
His steps are remarkably steady for a man in his condition. Hand on his sword, he makes his way across the deck. "I know you're there. Show y'rself now n' I'll be willing to ask questions 'fore I shoot."
A pause. "Je connais cette voix partout." Spoken aloud this time, the tone colored with something perhaps resembling affection. Footsteps sound across the deck, still light but no longer trying for stealthy. She moves into the light, limping a bit, hands up in surrender. "I'm not armed myself." She says, and she has every appearance of telling the truth. "Bonjour, Monseiur Connelly."
He'd once thought her French to be almost alluring. Right now, he just thinks it annoying. He squints at her, brows furrowing, hand inching halfway to his pistol. He can't decide how to react to this. "What the bloody 'ell are you doing here?"
"That is a very long story. Is your Capitaine here?"
Riley shakes his head. "She's ashore, visiting with Sparrow and his new missus."
"Alex?" She asks, head cocked to the side a bit. "He is married? Il semblerait miracles ne se produisent."
"Aye. She's a pretty little thing, sweet as sugar too. Why she'd wan' to marry him, no one can yet guess." Riley shakes his head at himself. "Cap'n's promised to shoot you on sight. Y'know that, aye? Can' imagine why you'd be stupid enough to come lookin' for her."
"Because I need help. And it appears she is once again the only one around with the means to offer it to me."
Riley scrubs a hand over his face. Thinking is proving exceedingly difficult at the moment. "If she finds me here havin' so pleasan' a conversation with you, I'll be dead too."
Adrienne sighs, her lips becoming a thin line. "Go back to sleep." She answers, flat, but apparently meaning it. "I'll tell her you never woke. Going by the look and sound of you, chéri, it wouldn't be hard for her to believe."
There's a pause. Riley takes out his pistol and aims it at her, abrupt as the thought came to him. "Funny talent I've discovered of late - I can aim just fine even when loaded." A moment of clarity clears the slur from his voice. "Peg's not the only one who'd like to see you dead, chéri."
Adrienne looks wary as she glares down at the pistol. Reaching slow into her coat, her other hand held up in placating surrender again, she retrieves a small, damp peice of parchment. "I have a letter, from Capitaine Will Turner. He demands that she hear what I have to say. He demands that she help me, and from what I'm told, she will not refuse an order from the old man."
"Give it here." Riley barks. She hands the letter to him, and he squints down at it in the dim light of the lanterns.
"So? Do I live for now?" Adrienne asks, sassy.
Riley huffs. "How d'you get on board?"
"There was a long boat left ashore."
He nods, having expected this answer. "Get in it. Go on, march."
"You know, chéri, I think I wouldn't mind it if I were taking all my orders from you. You'd make for a handsome captain yourself."
"Mmm. I know. I said get in." He shoves her a bit, too annoyed by her to care about the fact she is a woman.
"I could help you with that I am sure if you -"
"I can see it when that medallion glows." He answers, stealing a suggestive glance down at her chest where the bit of gold rests. "Never worked on me, y'know that right?"
She seems almost startled by the look he'd thrown at her. "Mon dieu. You sound not a bit like her, I think."
He does sound like Peg, and in fact this is not something he does on purpose, which is worrying. Miss Gibbs had outright scolded him not long ago that he's not going to fix anything with Peg by 'turning himself into her', but lately it's not entirely a thing he does on purpose. He only scowls, and thinks he's going to need another drink just for dealing with the Frenchwoman sat across from him. "Just start rowing."
...
Emily's lost enough in thought that it takes her a moment to realize they've all been staring at her blankly. "Erm." She glances around, brows furrowed. "I say something wrong?"
Jo gets to her feet, muttering, seeming bothered. "I'mma go back to the ship...make sure the boys haven't found trouble."
She disappears, walking off down the hallway distractedly.
"Imogene, come. You should sleep." Alex comes up again to put an arm about her shoulders.
Emily stands and makes to follow their lead, if only because she doesn't want to trouble her friend further.
"Erm, Cap'n!" That's Jo's voice calling out, and she sounds almost alarmed.
They all go stamping to the foyer.
Jo's stood just inside the wide open front door. On the porch just beyond it a rumpled and even-scruffier-than-usual Riley has one large hand wrapped around a slender arm. Four sets of eyes just stare for a moment.
Riley shoves his prisoner forward. "I found her sneakin' 'round the ship."
"Pour l'amour de..." Adrienne bristles, crossing her arms now that her one is free. "I was not sneaking."
"How the devil did you get out of the..." Alex glances at the still closed door leading to the room just off the foyer, where Adrienne had been laid out on the sofa.
"Seems Riley's not the only one takin' lessons straight from you." Jo grumbles at Emily. "We'd have heard that door open if she'd come through it."
Up until just a few moments ago Emily had been convinced she wanted nothing more than to kill Adrienne. Seeing her now, though, awake and standing, clearly favoring one leg over the other, dark circles rimming her eyes... Imogene had had a point. Emily's not sure there would be much justice in taking her revenge just now.
If nothing else, she can respect that Adrienne LaBelle has always displayed a certain cold sort of cleverness. Out of that respect, she leaves her pistol in its place at her belt. "Start talking, Adrienne."
Riley stalks forward a few paces, pulling something out of his vest, a small piece of parchment. "She gave me this. Says it's from your father."
Emily snatches it up, sending a sharp glance at Riley as she does so. He smells of rum. But then, he always seems to of late. Maybe she's smelling it everywhere now because she's the only one who's not drinking it.
Riley meets her eyes a brief moment, and looks away again too quick. No, her nose isn't decieving her this time. He's loaded to the gunwales. She folds the letter up and tucks it away after skimming it. "And just how is it that she made it all the way to the ship? That is why we have watch rotations, Mister Connelly. I'd think you'd remember from the Navy."
"I'm - I didn't hear - she..." He blunders on, a hand coming up to rub the back of his neck.
"He was asleep." Adrienne interjects, eyes rolling. "As are the rest of your 'watch', Capitaine."
"Well then get back to the ship and wake them." She barks at Connelly. "And I'm cutting all your rations of rum, officially. For a week. You're supposed to be in charge without Jo or I there, you know that."
"A..a week." He parrots weakly. "But, Captain..."
"Make it two weeks and one of them spent up in the crow's nest. You know better than to argue." She snaps back, ruthless. Two weeks with nothing but water, and one of them spent sweating up in the crow's nest with little to do? The punishment is worse than it might sound at first. "It won't kill you to remember what sober feels like."
Jo brings a hand up to bury it in her raven curls, a grimace of sympathy for the boy contorting her features. "Captain, have a little mercy on the lad, it's been quiet here, he..."
Emily's getting a little tired of her crew thinking they can argue with her. "Keep going, Miss Gibbs, and you'll join him."
Jo's mouth snaps shut, and she sends Riley an apologetic look.
Looking stricken, Riley turns around and starts heading back for the ship.
Emily watches him go, heaving a tired sigh. His mission will be to cause her problems now, she thinks, but it'll do him good.
Imogene, looking ever so troubled, slips away from Alex and makes to head out the door herself.
"Imo..." Alex murmurs, reaching for her.
She just waves him off. "It's fine, I'm just - I'm going for a walk." There's little question her moonlit walk will lead her to Riley, as he's clearly what's set her to fretting anew.
Alex glances at Emily, meeting her eyes, silently questioning.
"Riley's gone a bit funny of late but he's still Riley. She's fine." She assures him. Anyway, she's got a much bigger storm to try and fight through just now. She turns to Adrienne, holding up her papa's note. "Alright. You have my attention. What's this about?"
...
Imogene lifts her skirts some and jogs to catch up to Riley. His pace is slow and he's sort of meandering, lost in thought perhaps now, so it doesn't take much for her to catch up. "Mr. Connelly!" She calls. He tenses. Imogene comes up to loop an arm through his. "Oh, there's no need for that now, it's only me."
He relaxes, but not all the way. "Ms. Imo. What're you..."
"Well you've been here two days and this is the first I have seen of you. I'm afraid I'm feeling a touch neglected. If you'll excuse my lack of subtlety." She keeps her tone decisive and expectant, but also demure. The captain's bold and capricious way of dealing with people is all well and good being that she's Captain Peg. A lady like Imogene, however, must learn more subtle forms to garner the response she wishes for. Sweet smiles, gentle pouts. Mild, artful forms of seduction.
His eyebrows shoot up as he glances down at her. "Ah." He goes on slow, as though choosing his words. "The captain..usually leaves our Queen in my care in..absence of her and Miss Gibbs. M'afraid I didn't think to ask if I might sneak a visit with you m'self. Forgive me, Ms. Imo."
Just the contrite response she was hoping for. She beams, patting his arm. "Oh, that's all very well Mr. Connelly. May I steal that visit for myself? Now? It's a lovely night."
He relaxes further, bending his arm for her to take it properly, and they continue strolling in the pale moonlight. "I mus' confess to some amusement at the thought of you bein' the one to steal anything."
"Oh, it seems you don't know me very well. You musn't, for I have stolen - many hearts, or so I'm told. Certainly I stole Alex's..." She looks up at him through her lashes, demure and subtly cheeky, though her tone is matter-of-fact. "...and I think perhaps yours, for a time."
At ease now, completely. His shoulders have relaxed, and he smirks down at her. "Ah. Only a little. But you're not at all wrong. It's a pirate we could make of even you, thinkin' of it, I can see it now."
Her delighted, chiming laughter rings out, filling the still night air. "Oh, don't tell Peg that! She'd have a grand old time with that one."
He laughs as well, and then all is silent for a few comfortable moments. He stops again, and turns a bit to look down at her. "Ms. Imo."
"Hmm?"
"Are you happy?"
The question catches her a little off guard, but the truth requires no hesitation. "I am. Far more so than I have been since my father was still alive."
He nods, and brings a hand up to run it through his ginger curls. "It can't be easy. Having him for a husband."
"Indeed, he grew quite difficult before we made it to the wedding, and I walked the aisle still." She answers, gentle now.
"Why?" He asks, frank curiosity leaving his glassy green eyes wide and his expression honest.
"Because I love him. The feeling is wonderful and terrible and confusing but worth it always. Alex is a challenge sometimes. But it is a challenge I will accept over and over because he is honest and kind and always well meaning, too, and I wouldn't give any part of what I have with him up. Not for the world."
He swallows, blowing out a breathe, building up to something.
"It's alright." She prods a little. "Speak as freely as you like. I won't breathe a word of this conversation to anyone."
He nods. "Ms. Imo, what if... what if that person you thought was worth it isn' but you can' stop loving them? What do you s'ppose one ought to do then?"
"If I knew anyone to run into such a conundrum, I would pity them greatly, for I am certain that would be torture at it's purest." Imogene cups his cheek. "But I will not pity you, Riley Connelly, for I don't believe you to have run in to such a conundrum."
He shakes his head, waving her off with a huff as he stalks away a few paces. "You don' know Peg like I do. M'not sure even Alex knows her like I do, these days."
"I think you don't know her as well as you believe." Imogene counters, quiet. "You saw only anger as she dismissed you earlier. But I saw pain, Riley. Worry for you."
"What y'saw earlier is nothing, Ms. Imo." Riley answers, dark. "She's cut me down in far worse ways since last you saw us."
"Well, that sounds a bit..personal, for me to be prying further into it." Contrite and demure again. She clasps her hands before her, bowing her head a bit, submissive. "A lady knows when to seal her lips."
"No..no." He turns back to her, eyes widening a bit. "I'd like to hear what you've got to say, if you think you've got somethin' helpful."
Again, just the contrite response she'd hoped for. Now, he's really listening. "Alright. I'll leave you with this, as I know better than most - sometimes, when faced with nothing but options that they don't much care for, people will pick the lesser of two evils and move forward with it full force because it is what they are convinced is best. The side of the story you're forced to live is not the whole story." Her lips become a thin line of distaste. "Stop acting as though it is. Making rash and carless decisions in the childish hope she'll pay you some attention, that's not going to get you anywhere, Riley Connelly." Her tone scolding now, full of scorn, though her voice hasn't raised at all.
He's startled. His eyebrows shoot up, and he's tensed again. "Ms. Imo..." He near gasps.
"Food for thought." Imogene finishes off. "Forgive me if my tongue has a mind of it's own at times."
There's a long, awkward pause in which he just stares at her. And then, wonder of wonders... "No, you're right, I've... I don't know what's got into me."
"Peg. Peg has got into you, I suspect." Imogene answers succintly. "It is in her nature, to get in your head, even without her trying. Hating her for that would almost be a crime as, especially in your case, I do not for a moment believe she's done it on purpose. I pray you'll forgive my over-stepping my bounds, but someone had to make you aware of it." She dips into a shallow curtsy. "Good night, Mr. Connelly."
And she leaves him like that, drunk and gaping after her in the light of the half moon.
That is how a lady takes care of business.
...
"Alright, alright, let me sort this through." Emily leans forward in her chair, arms resting on her knees. "Captain Barbossa sends you a letter, asking for you to meet him at Shipwreck. When you arrive you actually meet your brother - how old is he now, anyway?"
"Five and ten."
"...you meet him and Captain Barbossa is no where to be found and the only instruction he left the two of you is to speak with my papa. So you do. And he hands you off this letter and tells you nothing save for where to find me."
"Aye."
"How the devil did he know where to find me?"
Adrienne scowls. "You expect I know?"
"Figured I'd ask on the off chance you would." Emily waves it off. "So alls I don't understand is, how did you end up with your papa on the Navy ship?"
"We were taken onto it, my brother and I, and Papa was already there. He said..." Adrienne breaks off, looking uncomfortable.
"What?" Emily prods.
"They destroyed it. The Queen Anne's Revenge. It is gone."
"Destroyed." Emily stares at her, blank. "How could..."
"Je ne sais pas. Neither did my papa."
"How else?" Jo interjects, grumbling at Emily. "You've seen the old hag what does his bidding. I don't expect there's any magics a match for her. 'cept yours, o' course."
Emily scowls at the floor. "Mmm. So, the Queen Anne's Revenge is no more. Did your papa know where they were taking you?"
"No. He suspected, but only, I think, based on rumor." Adrienne looks tired and fretful. "Though, his guess is usually better than mine for all he's been at this so long."
Ah. Emily sees where the older woman's worry stems from. Captain Barbossa is cold and vicious and probably wiser than all of them put together plus Emily's papa...because he is old. Older than even Emily's uncle, by a decade and a half. Adrienne's brother can survive a beating or two if necessary. Old Hector almost certainly won't.
"Well, we'll start with his best guess then. What was it?"
Adrienne hesitates, as though she knows Emily will not like what she says next. "Port Royal."
Silence.
Jo slumps back in her chair, one hand coming up to bury itself in her raven curls. "Why must it all lead back to that cursed place?"
"I have not been back here for some time. How strong has the city grown?" Adrienne goes on, her demeanor a little more calculating.
"We don't go near it but from what I hear the Admiral's fixed it up a fortress to rival our Shipwreck. He means to spite Captain Turner and his Missus, we expect, seein' as they once called Port Royal home." Jo's talking almost as if Emily isn't even in the room.
"Mmmm. Every fortress has it's weak points, no? If we had enough ships, with enough guns..."
Jo shakes her head. "We go in guns blazin' and those of us not sent to the crushing black oblivion of the Locker will be hung instead."
"What do we do, then?"
Emily scrubs a hand over her face. "I know times precious here, Adrienne." She starts, placating. There's something...an idea...perhaps, just maybe...but her minds all muddled and she can't quite grasp onto what it's trying to cook up. It hovers just out of reach. "I'm having a thought here. I need time to think on it. Just, let me..." She stands, and begins to wander out of the room.
...
She walks the grounds of the plantation for an hour or so, maybe, until she grows weary and decides to head back to her ship. Perhaps a few hours rest where she feels most at home will help her sort through it. Though, the thought of that bed being cold as it shall be makes it less welcoming. It's been weeks since she's allowed herself the luxury of... it hasn't seemed as appealing, that is, the thought of seeking Ruby out again. There's only one person she really wants and any time she comes close to breaking down and begging his forgiveness, he goes and does something as stupid and entirely uncharacteristic as falling drunk asleep while on watch.
By the time she makes it back to the ship, the first rays of sunlight have just begun to touch the horizon. She sits a moment to admire the sight that never ceases to amaze, and then slips below decks. Already tugging loose the laces of her corset, she strolls into her room without care for the fact..her door was open.
Oh.
"Riley." She blinks at him, brows furrowing. "Erm, what are you doing?"
Riley stares at her, struck dumb a moment. Clearly, he'd not been expecting her to return. "Captain. Forgive me, I was, I just..."
"You know," she eyes the open drawer of her desk he'd been searching through, "if there's something you need you might've just asked first."
He shakes his head, a hand up rubbing at the back of his neck. He's sobered some by now, and has sense enough to be nervous of her. "You were busy and I didn't mean to keep it, just take a peek is all."
Ah. She crosses the room, shoos him out of the way, finds the magic trigger on the underside of her desk, and opens the drawer that pops out on the side. Removing a certain small and unassuming, though notorious, item, she holds it up before him. "Why you want it is none of my business. Keep it a while if you like." He reaches for it, and she snatches it back, holding up a finger. "Lose it, by any means, and I'll have your head on a silver platter, savvy?"
He nods, succinct. "Aye, Captain."
She hands it to him.
He studies her. Hesitant and wary, his tone contrite and respectful, he goes on. "Captain. Permission to..erm, speak my mind?"
"Granted." She answers, on a tired whim.
"What's got you vexed enough not to shoot me for even being in here, much less rummaging through your desk? Not," he adds hastily at a sharp glance from her, "not that I'm ungrateful."
"Hm." She rolls her eyes, but decides he's not too far out of line for asking. If somethings got her worried or confused, it almost always bodes ill for the rest of her crew too. "This business with Adrienne's more complicated than anything I've faced in a while. I'm trying to figure it..."
"Well, what's happening, anyway?"
A pause. For a moment, just a moment, she looks at Riley and sees her sweet, honest sailor and not the rowdy rogue he'd been spiraling into. A decision is made. She explains, going over everything Adrienne had said, pacing the room as she does so.
Riley doesn't interrupt, just listens, attentive, nodding every now and then.
When finished, Emily finishes removing her corset and sets it aside with her hat, curling up in the window seat.
Riley's expression is thoughtful. "Alright, alright. I'm thinking...the facts. Barbossa came to your father, some days ago, maybe even weeks. Asked for help." Emily nods as he goes down the list. "His reasoning was enough for your papa to offer up the best 'help' he knew to give - you. So it was serious business." Emily scowls at this, but Riley gives her no room to argue. "Something makes Barbossa leave before it can be sorted out further. Leaves his son there, you assumed to meet with Adrienne, I shouldn't wonder if it was to protect the boy from what Barbossa knew was coming." Emily nods, conceeding this could be true. "Adrienne arrives at Shipwreck, fetches her brother and the letter, they set out on her ship, and are captured by the same ship what got 'hold of their papa. Just by what, happenstance? Or is it that this Navy vessel was waiting around to catch her too?" He's thinking aloud. Emily wonders why she hadn't thought of that. "If this is true, they'll drag their feet getting back to Port Royal now they lost her, as they'll be in a bit of trouble for it. So that's a day, maybe two days more we've got in our favor." Emily nods again, though he's really lost her by now. She's got no idea how he's churning this out so well. "So, Port Royal. Port Royal, Port... I'm having a thought here."
He's sounding like her again.
"I think, I just...that ship we attacked some weeks ago, the merchant that was lying so low and heavy in the water. It had a crest tattooed over everything."
"Aye, the same crest painted over every ship Imogene said had been her father's when we docked at Virginia to take them home." Emily answers. He's closing in on what she couldn't quite qrasp at earlier.
There's a long pause. Riley snaps his fingers and points at her. "I've got it! I know what..."
A yawn escapes Emily's lips without her permission.
Riley softens. "I've got an idea but sleep will help us sort it through it better. Get some rest, Peg." He says it so gentle. There's a hint of something more there, something...but it's gone in an instant. He straightens some, clearing his throat. "I mean. I'll come wake you in a few hours, Cap'n."
She opens her mouth and almost stops him, almost...but the words don't make it out quick enough, and then he is gone.
"I think I know what you were thinking." The words tumble past her lips as Riley slips into her cabin later that morning, bearing a breakfast of porridge and fresh fruit. "Or, at least, I have an idea."
"Well, I knew you'd get there eventually." He answers, setting the tray down. "Mean, I've worked it out already, just how we can do it."
She doesn't answer immediately, is too distracted..there are dark circles beneath his red-rimmed eyes. He looks exhausted, and almost sickly pale, wincing at the sunlight streaming through the window. Had he slept at all? His slumped shoulders and the tired way he leans against her desk suggest that either he hadn't, or that he had but only enough to sleep off the rest of the rum.
"Captain?" He questions, brows furrowing.
"Have - have you eaten?" Is what she comes out with.
He blinks at her. "Wha - no. No, m'not hungry. About the plan..."
Emily brings a hand up to rub the back of her neck. "Right.. I, erm, I haven' worked it out very far yet. Thing is, as much sense as it might make...he's just finally got things settled, has a new wife and - and..."
Riley's staring at her, as though not at all understanding. "So..what's the problem? You two worked out a deal, honest and simple really. He wasn't willing to give up so much coin all at once, so he gave us the luxury of finding a more creative way for him to pay up. That's on him." A pause. He scowls. "Granted, Miss Imo won't be happy when she finds out. Then again, I'd think you'd be chomping at the bit to shake up the marital bliss a little."
"I feel like I should be, by rights." She answers, a hand still up resting on the back of her neck. She's got the strangest sensation prickling at her neck and down her spine. She feels unsettled in a way she can't explain, and it's got nothing to actually do with what she and Riley are talking about. "I just, I...it doesn' seem very fair of me, to ask of him such a huge favor right now."
Life is anything but fair. The words echo through her head in her mother's hollow voice. You know that very well, and so does Alex.
"Life isn' fair." Riley answers, startling Emily by his scowl and the hard tone of his voice. "If Alex hasn' long since stopped expecting it to be, then I pity him for 'is stupidity."
Emily's answer comes quiet and subdued. "I would be more prone to admiring him for his ability to keep hoping anyway. In any case, I suppose we haven't got too many choices. We can try to get him alone for the conversation, but Miss Imo probably won't allow for it."
Riley doesn't answer immediately. Whatever had sent the odd chill down Emily's spine earlier seems to have struck him too. He's rubbing at the back of his neck, uncomfortable. "Aye. I'll be disappointed in 'er if she doesn'."
Something eats at her. Nibbles at the edges of her consciousness, just the tiniest inkling of a thought that something's not right...but it's gone before she can grab ahold of it, and with it the feeling of unease lessens. She finds herself able to relax some again. Whatever just happened, they don't have time to be worried about it now. "As will I, if I'm honest." She gets to her feet and strolls across the room to scarf down her breakfast. "I'd s'ppose we're safe enough on the island but just in case lets bring 'em here. Jo's the one what fixed breakfast I imagine? You go grab her then, and try to get some food in your own belly while you're at it. You might feel better if you do. I'll go see about Alex, Miss Imo, and Adrienne."
"Aye, Captain." Riley answers, glancing back at her just as he makes it to the door. "Erm, Captain?"
"Mmm?"
"I have got a plan in the works. We won't be putting him in any real trouble, alright? I wouldn't do that to Miss Imo. Trust me?"
She flashes a soft, genuine smile. "Always."
He just nods, and then he is gone.
"Ms. Imo, I feel it only fair of me to warn you, you could be charged with treason for being privy to this conversation. You'd be better off..."
"I'd be better off being blind, deaf, and dumb, but that sounds far less fun, and in any case, if you intend to inolve my husband I could just as well be charged with treason anyway." Imogene replies primly. "Laurel's told me all about how zealous her brother tends to be."
Emily exchanges a look with Riley. Neither of them want Imogene here for this, and they know Alex won't either, but short of removing her by force there's no help for it.
Emily does not want to do this. Her gut tells her this is wrong and unfair and she shouldn't do it, she should find another way, she should...but for the love of her goddess, her own thoughts don't sound like they really belong to her anymore. Her papa ordered her to help assuming she'd use any means necessary, like the pirate she is. To hell with what's unfair. Right? She schools her expression into a mask of cold indifference as she begins. "Last night after the two of you went to bed, Adrienne explained to me what's gone on and why my father's ordered me to help. Alex, you remember who Adrienne's father is, aye?"
"Barbossa. Pirate Lord, captain of the ship that was Blackbeard's last I 'eard."
"Well, not anymore."
Alex's brows furrow. "Is he..."
"Dead? Chers dieux, je l'espère pas." Adrienne interjects. "Though, I believe that is what may become of him if we don't hurry. The Queen Anne's Revenge, however, is now nothing more than a pile of charred driftwood."
Alex nods. "Ah. I can see why this would be disconcerting even for Captain Turner. It must've taken quite a bit of firepower, to destroy so magnificent a ship as the old Revenge."
Emily nods. "Now, we know Barbossa and Adrienne's brother were taken onto the same ship, and we know where it's headed. But this is where it gets tricky."
"I'm not going to like this am I?" Alex is already growing wary. Rightfully so.
"It's headed for Port Royal. I s'ppose you'd remember very well, why that'd be a problem for us."
"Aye. I remember. We knew to give it a wide berth even four years ago when I was still sailing with you." He's looking at Emily. "And they've built it up plenty since then. Been thinking about buying up some property for Imo and I to settle there, actually." He sends Imogene a smile, taking her hand. "Anyway, what's all this got to do with us?"
Emily's mouth opens. She knows what she needs to say next, but no sound escapes her lips. She stares down at the newlyweds entwined fingers, and she just can't get the words out.
Riley eyes her up, scowls, and moves so he's standing before Alex and Imogene as well. "Last chance, Miss Imo. Leave now and you can spare yourself some grief."
She holds her chin up and narrows her eyes at him. "Thank you, Mister Connelly, but I think I'm perfectly capable of handling..whatever it could possibly be that's so terrible."
Riley snorts. "S'nothing so terrible, really," he sounds a bit like Emily again, much to Emily's dismay, "but I expect your hearin' it will leave Sparrow here sleepin' in the dog house for a few days, as it were."
"Connelly!" Alex barks before Imogene can respond to this. "What the devil do you think..."
"Riley." Emily scowls at him, tone flat. "You're too cheeky for your own good."
"I'm only speakin' the truth!" Riley holds his hands up in surrender. "Anyway, now I can say I tried, at least. So here it is. Port Royal is a fortress. There's little chance at us getting to Captain Barbossa if we go in guns blazing. So I've come up with a - well, I've got clever with it, is all."
"I thought to ask Laurel for this," Emily interjects, needing to soften this blow, "to see if she could help. But as much pull as she has over there, I don't think she'll be able to take it as far as we need to being that she's just a woman. We wouldn't be suggesting this if we weren't short on options, Alex, I need you to know that."
Next to her Riley sends a sharp glance at her, but whatever he's thinking, he keeps it to himself. Aloud, he addresses Alex again, far more ruthless than Emily is managing to be. "Look, the point is you owe Peg. And I have a feeling you'll be far more useful to us here than I know you'll want to admit."
Silence. Alex's jaw has set. His eyes are hard and cold and he's glaring - not at Riley. At Emily. But he says nothing. Is he that angry at the thought that she'd do this now? "I'm sorry." The words tumble past her lips, soft and shaky and not very Peg-like. "We don't have much choice, savvy?"
Both Riley and Jo, who's been silent and contemplative, send her sharp glances now. Emily ignores them.
"Alex?" Imogene asks, squeezing the hand of his that she's still holding. "Darling, what is it? What are they talking about?"
A sharp tingling prickles Emily's neck and travels down her spine. She shivers, and notes Jo sending her a questioning glance. But she has no answer. Whatever just happened, it passes too quick for her to identify what could be causing the bursts of unease. She clears her throat and goes on, abruptly feeling more detatched and calculating. "Months ago, just after rescuin' you, when we agreed to take you all the way home to Virginia, it didn't happen as he let you think. Alex came to me and begged for it but I couldn' justify it to my men, lettin' him off so easy. I wanted twice as much coin as he was willin' to pay. So, instead, we made a deal. If I needed a favor only someone of means could provide, he'd do it without question."
Imogene soaks in every word, and her pretty face slowly contorts into a scowl so angry one could not help but to think it very ugly in its way. She tears her eyes away from Emily, looking down. Her hand slips away from Alex's.
"Imogene..." Alex starts.
"You lied."
"I didn't..I just, I thought it would be ages before..at the time you were being so distant..."
"And you thought lying would help? It wasn't even necessary. I told you to give her as much coin as she asked for, that we'd work it out."
"Imogene." He pleads. "I wanted to be done with it, quickly. This seemed the easiest way at the time."
"And that's all well and good but then you lied!" She shreiks, her whole body shaking with the force of it, and one can tell there are tears behind the words. She closes her eyes, breathing deep, and several moments of tense silence ensue before she goes on, quiet and shaky. "Alexander Sparrow, I love you to absolute pieces, but sometimes you disgust me." She gets to her feet, and faces Emily, shoulders held back and chin up now. "My mother gave him my father's company, and with it control of most everything my father owned. In doing so she had to endear him to many wealthy business men - and Navy men. A few of whom are now..."
"Imogene!" Alex exclaims.
She continues speaking as though he's said nothing. "...stationed at Port Royal. You have my blessing to put Alex to work however you wish. Good day to you all." She gives a shallow curtsy and glides out of the room with more dignity than Emily's ever known anyone to possess.
Alex's fists clench. The words that slip past his lips are quiet but dripping with distain and contempt. "You wretched cur. Sometimes I think I'd kill you if ever given the chance, do you know that?"
"Mmm, you're hardly the first." She answers, airy, playing at being the devil's daughter even as she feels her stomach twist at the obvious sincerity of his words. Gods above, she thinks, I'm going straight to Hell. But if there's one thing she knows how to do, it's play the pirate. "Anyway, pay attention now, because I think I've got it figured just how we're going to play this..."
Yay! An update! Reviews would be nice, but thanks for reading! :)
French:
Chers dieux, je l'espère pas. - Dear gods, I hope not.
Pour l'amour de... - For the love of...
Je connais cette voix partout. - I'd know that voice anywhere.
Il semblerait miracles ne se produisent. - It would appear miracles do happen.