Epilogue: The Fate ot Jack And Jill - A Meeting With Destiny
The day Jillian boarded the ship, the H.M.S. Dauntless, was possibly the sweetest in her life. The air smelled fresher, the water looked bluer, and the sun felt warmer on her cheeks than it ever had as she climbed the plank onto the waiting vessel.
Lady deAugust had insisted to be called Aunt Eponine for the remainder of their time spent together, and indeed she was more like a mother than Jillian's own mother had ever been. She spoiled her with presents from her own personal belongings, did her hair with her own two hands, and made sure she ate only the bed food that the limited naval canteen had to offer.
There was one gift, though, that sparked feelings within her that were quite alien. Eponine had a long package wrapped in silver paper, tied tightly with ribbons that had to be cut with a small pair of mending scissors. Eponine gave her the gift with the kind of grandness of a child being given her first adult Christmas present, and the relative anxious to see how it was received.
Jillian snipped the ribbon and pulled it away, then took apart the paper with her fingers. The length of the box - if it could be called a box - was quite something, a bit longer than her own arm, and made of a deep red enamel. There was a silver divide three quarters into its length, which something that looked almost like a catch holding the two pieces together.
Instinctively, although she didn't consciously know how, Jillian parted the casing to reveal a long, gleaming sword. She was rather shocked, but the weight of it in her hand felt familiar. Felt right.
She stared at it, baffled and overjoyed in the same moment. She looked at Aunt Eponine, who was just smiling at her.
"It's called a Katana," Eponine said. "A sword from ancient Japan. The kind Samurai fight with."
Jillian nodded, understanding. "Thank you, Aunt Eponine," she said, putting the sword back. She wasn't quite sure what to do with it, but it triggered things that felt familiar and strange all at the same time.
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It was a wonderful journey, filled with hope and the bright longings for the future, something Jillian had not experienced since she was a child, and few enough times, then.
One night, she lay in her bunk in the cabin that had been given them, small for what kind of luxury Aunt Eponine seemed to be used to, but they were making due quite well. She was alone, and it was unusual for her to be alone, but she could hear the soft footsteps of her aunt returning.
The other woman came in and went to the vanity that was there, which had been created half from a rather fine desk and half from Lady deAugust's own supplies, a large, stand-alone gilded mirror which looked like it alone cost a fortune. She took off the hat that nested in her thick hair and let the locks down. In the moonlight, as Jillian rolled over to watch her, her hair looked so much more red.
"Where were you?" Jillian asked softly, feeling like a child who was missing her mother.
Eponine smiled at her gently over her shoulder. "Watching the stars, love." Her voice was tinted with something, Jillian couldn't quite place it.
"And how are they?"
"All in their place."
Jillian lay silently for several long minutes, watching the melodious strokes of Eponine's hairbrush through her hair. She felt sleepy, suddenly, and her eyelids drooped, and she wondered how she could feel like she'd known her Aunt Eponine throughout her entire life when something inside her was quite sure she'd only met her the day they'd left on this voyage, and now her entire care was under this woman, with absolute, unwavering trust.
And then, deep inside her chest, a little coal burned, telling her that maybe all was not as it seemed. Her vision turned hazy, and she fell into a strange little half-sleep, where the world of dreams spills over into the world of reality and the two are mingled to the point where one cannot be told from the other. To either wake or entirely sleep would destroy it, and Jillian clung there, knowing there was a reason she was there.
Her eyes moved, and whether they actually moved or she just dreamed they moved she was not sure, but she struggled to keep them on Eponine, who did not look quite like Eponine anymore, but seemed to be sitting in a room that, instead of being draped in the shadows and dim light of candles, was a rich, vibrant red, and there was a crown of diamonds woven into the scarlet locks. Eponine no more, she turned and looked at Jillian, and her eyes were green.
"Why are you doing this?" Jillian heard herself asking. "Why are you going through this trouble for me? What am I to you?"
Satine smiled. "I did you a bad turn, my dear Jillian," she said, her voice soft and sad. "I am making amends for it."
Jillian hesitated, not sure if she liked that idea. "So it's not real, then," she said. "It's all just pretend."
"I imagine you are very tired of dreams, Jillian," Satine replied.
"Very," the girl whispered, tears filling her eyes, or dreams of tears.
"Do not worry, child," Satine said, rising and going to stand by Jillian's bedside, leaning over and gently placing her hand over Jillian's eyes. "Go to sleep, and remember only that I am devoted to you until all things are put right."
So Jillian went to sleep, and thoroughly forgot all about the fact that she had been angry with Epitome in those last moments in the Dreaming, standing in the grand hall of a place called the Sparkling Diamond, angry at this gorgeous, immortal creature for trying to steal Jack away from her, even though, when she thought about it, was something she would have wanted her to do. She forgot about Jack, whose memory was starting to rise through the folds under which all dreams are buried in the mind, those too painful or too sweet to remember.
Jillian slept a deep and dreamless sleep.
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Commodore Norrington looked through the spyglass at the black sails on the horizon.
"I wasn't quite sure what to suggest, sir," Lieutenant Armstrong said from beside him. "We spotted it about an hour ago, and only now have we been able to identify it."
"The Black Pearl," Norrington said with a curl of his lips. "How ironic."
"Sir?"
"We can't take a chance of getting too close and getting boarded, not with important passengers on board," Norrington said quietly, almost to himself. "How much firepower do we have, Lieutenant?"
"Enough to take them from a distance, sir, but the Black Pearl is notoriously fast. We'd have to give chase."
Norrington grunted. "We can't risk it. I'm sorry, but unless it's clear that she's a threat, we're going to have to let it go."
"Yes, sir."
"I know, Lieutenant, I've personally been wanting to get Jack Sparrow back in the noose since our last encounter, but some times, you have to take the high road. There will be other chances. Sparrow isn't going anywhere."
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"Navy sails, Cap'n," Gibbs said, looking through his spyglass.
Jack stood at the helm, feeling the wheel gently rocking in his grip. Even with the half-mad doctors who would treat pirates, he had recovered fully, and had been up and walking about again in less than a week. It just served to increase the legend of Jack Sparrow, and that was fine with him.
But now, standing here, steering his ship, it was about the last pleasure he had. He didn't dare show it, however. One mutiny in his lifetime was quite enough. Although he trusted both Gibbs and Anamaria, it just wasn't worth the risk.
"Are they approaching?" Jack asked.
Gibbs ignored the fact that Jack's voice had lost some of its considerable accent over the last week, owing it to the fact that he was still recovering from what he'd been through. He'd seen Jack at his most intense, steering a ship through a storm, teeth grit against the wind and the rain, knowing he was catching up to his prey. Jack seemed constantly tired, now. The kohl around his eyes served to cover the bags, but they were still there.
"No, sir, they aren't, and I'm pretty sure they've seen us," Gibbs replied. "Awful fishy, you ask me."
"What isn't fishy, we're in the middle of the ocean?" Jack quipped. His smile brightened a bit as his mind started to work. "Why wouldn't a Navy vessel, having clearly spotted and by no doubt identified the Black Pearl, attempt to overtake us? Surely it isn't that they're afraid."
"Maybe the commander's just a weakling, sir. There are cowards in the British Navy."
"Don't let Commodore Norrington hear you say that," Jack returned, still grinning. "No, there's another reason."
"Well...they're not engaging, which means they don't want us near their ship."
"And that could only be because there's something on it they want to protect," Jack finished for him. "Something they don't want us to see."
"Sure you're not reaching, Cap'n?" Gibbs asked carefully.
"What if I am, Gibbs? Maybe I'm in the mood for some adventure."
"That's a pretty big ship, Jack. They've got firepower on us, to be sure. Are we sure we want to go risking our necks over itâ€"this thingâ€"whatever it is?"
"What's the point in being pirates if we don't act like them?" Jack cried, starting to turn the wheel.
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"They're approaching us, sir," Lieutenant Armstrong informed the Commodore about twenty minutes later.
Norrington took the glass and looked. Sure enough, the Black Pearl had grown a bit larger. At this distance, she should have been getting smaller, so it must mean that she was following.
"What shall we do, sir?"
Norrington grunted. "Be prepared for anything. Have the cannons ready, but don't open fire unless they attack first. And make sure the ladies are below deck."
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"Is that a ship?" Jillian asked from where she strolled beside Eponine on the deck, Elizabeth and Will behind them, arm in arm.
"I do believe it is," Eponine said with a smile. "I think...Will, can you see what color those sails are?"
Will stepped closer to the rail. He squinted, and then started. "They're black, Lady deAugust," he said.
"Black sails?" Elizabeth began. "But---" Will shushed her, but it was too late.
"Not the Black Pearl," Eponine said, turning, although her surprise seemed a bit...faked.
Jillian frowned. "The Black Pearl? What is that?"
"A pirate ship, m'love," Eponine replied. "I wonder what dear Commodore Norrington is doing right about now?"
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Within another hour, there was no doubt about it - the Black Pearl was gaining ground, and it was making everyone nervous that she hadn't done anything remotely hostile yet.
Norrington tried to order everyone who was a civilian to their cabins, but Eponine flatly refused, saying she was quite comfortable outside, watching the show. Norrington considered having the men "escort" her to her cabin, but Lady deAugust threw them a very harsh look, even though her lips were smiling, and Norrington had a strange feeling that anyone who dared put his hands on her would most likely lose them. At that point, there was nothing to be done about keeping Jillian away from her aunt, and Will and Elizabeth knew perfectly well who was on that ship and were resolute not to disappear.
"Commodore," Elizabeth said, approaching the man as he stood by the helm, watching the Black Pearl get bigger and bigger, still seeming peaceful - although they had not run up a white flag, which meant she was still a danger - "Maybe we can help."
"How do you propose to do that, Mrs. Turner?" Norrington asked shortly.
"Will and Jack are friends," she added softly, "you know that."
Norrington's smile tightened, but there was a wry amusement in his eyes. "I know."
"Well, Jack won't fire on us if he knows Will's here."
"Or you, Ma'am," Norrington added. "Do what you like - I shall take no responsibility for you, as I have already ordered you below deck and you have blatantly disobeyed me." He gave her a light wink, showing his words may have been harsh, but they were not meant.
Elizabeth smiled and sought out her husband. "Come on, we're going to the highest point," she said.
"Why?" Will replied.
"We're going to let Jack know we're here."
"And what will that accomplish?"
"Maybe it will get him to back off," she said. "Remember what happened last time we were all together?"
"I remember he nearly got hung and then drown," Will said, but followed his wife, anyway.
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"Cap'n, I think you should see this."
Jack turned and looked in the direction that Gibbs was pointing. They were close enough now that he didn't need the spyglass. Standing high on the bow of the ship stood Will and Elizabeth, both of them waving large white handkerchiefs at them.
"It's Turner and his lady friend," Gibbs said, stating the obvious.
"His wife by now, I'd imagine," Jack said. "All right, Gibbs, run up the white flag."
"Jack?"
"You heard me," Jack said, smiling. "I want to say 'ello to my friends. Sure Norrington isn't going to arrest me for that. Naval officers are perfectly capable of understanding a parley."
Gibbs just rolled his eyes, but did as his captain said.
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"They've run up a white flag, sir," Lieutenant Armstrong said.
Norrington sighed. "Very well. I see the Turners got their way."
"What shall we do, sir?"
"We'll line up beside them. I still want the guns ready - I don't trust Sparrow any father than I could throw him."
"Sparrow isn't that big, sir, I'm sure you could throw him quite far," Lieutenant Armstrong said.
Norrington shot him a look. "It's an expression, Lieutenant. Do as I order."
Smirking, Armstrong obeyed.
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"Who are you waving at?" Jillian asked, approaching Will and Elizabeth.
Elizabeth turned to her, motioning her to come closer. "A good friend of ours," she said.
"You're friends with a pirate?" Jillian asked, stunned.
"He's a good man," Will said, tossing her a smile. "You'll like him...well, you'll find him amusing, at any rate."
"Just don't wear any jewelry where he can get at it," Elizabeth said with a sigh. "Or better yet, don't let him touch you, period. He has wandering hands."
Jillian looked across the water towards the Pearl, and her eyes scanned the deck. Surely this pirate must be something else for people as kind as the Turners to associate themselves with.
Then her eyes landed on Jack.
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Jack stepped away from the wheel, turning it over to Anamaria, who was quite good at the more delicate maneuvers of sailing. He approached the rail, watching as they got closer and closer to the Dauntless.
That was when he saw her.
Standing beside Elizabeth, dressed in a simple white dress, dotted with purple flowers, could have been orchids or perhaps violets, he couldn't tell at this distance. Her hair was the color of the sun as it made ready to set, just before the reds and oranges took over. And her eyes.
He couldn't see them, but he knew they were blue.
"Jillian," he whispered, not understanding how he knew her name.
She looked back at him, and saw the same recognition there. She knew him, and he knew her.
Neither one quite understood how.
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"I don't like this," Norrington said.
"I'm afraid, sir, that you don't have much of a choice," Eponine said. "You were instructed to carry out whatever I wished."
"For your comfort, dear lady, but not at the risk of your safety."
Eponine sighed, shook her head. "I'm sure Elizabeth and Will are quite prepared to stretch the plank across to the Pearl themselves if need be," she said.
Norrington gave a twitch of his head, and the plank was set in place. Eponine smiled. "Rest assured, Jack Sparrow will respect a parley. I just hope you can, too, Commodore."
"It's not Sparrow I'm entirely worried about, m'lady," he said, eyeing her.
She smiled at him, appreciatively. "You are a sharp one, Commodore, I'll give you that. And I shall also tell you a secret here, in a moment."
Jack came across, hesitantly at first, and when Will approached he stepped onto the Dauntless and shook the man's hand heartily. He attempted to embrace Elizabeth, which she tolerated until Jack's hand went a bit too low for her liking and she had to push him away, but she was smiling.
That was when Eponine stepped forward. "Captain Jack Sparrow?" she said, cutting quite a striking picture, dressed entirely in a deep, crimson red.
Jack turned and looked at her, a strange recognition flickering in his eyes, but removed his had nonetheless. "M'lady, and who might you be?"
"Lady Eponine deAugust," she replied. "I wanted to know how much you would charge for passage onto your ship?"
Norrington let out a loud gasp. "M'lady, you cannot!" he cried.
"That is my secret, I'm afraid," Eponine returned, smiling coolly. "I will not be going all the way to Port Royal."
"Then where shall you be going, ma'am?" Jack asked, puzzled.
"To the colonies, or the Americas, or whatever they call themselves now," she said. "Quite an interesting world up there, struggling to be born." She tossed a look at Norrington, and added, "That's right, you did lose that war, didn't you?"
Norrington just glared at her.
Jack considered this. "The Black Pearl is not a yacht," he said, a bit grumbly.
"Whatever price you name, I can pay."
"And you wish to travel with pirates?" Jack said, venturing a step closer. She was a fine lady, and she towered over him, but he was not one to be intimidated by all that. Her blue-green eyes met his evenly. "Are you sure we can be trusted?"
"I'm not afraid of pirates, Captain Sparrow," she said. "I can take good care of myself."
"I'm sure. So passage for one?"
"Two," Eponine said, turning and extending her arm. "My cousin shall also join us."
Jack turned, and looked at the woman again. The name Jillian rang through his head like a song, and she approached. He could see how blue her eyes were, like the sea at noon. He also noticed that she was not as astounded as a young lady in such an odd situation should be.
"We're going with them, Aunt Eponine?" she said, her eyes not leaving Jack's.
"Absolutely, my dear. This was the whole point." She smiled. "I've already got Sarah bringing up the luggage. I guess that's passage for three, then," she added.
Jack nodded, glanced at the Commodore. "Having you on my ship would certainly keep the good British Navy from blasting me from the water after this parley is over," he murmured.
Norrington stepped closer. "I cannot allow this, Lady deAugust. This is irrational, insane!"
Eponine turned. "Under the circumstances, Commodore, I should think you'd be quite glad to get rid of me. I am quite a pain in the ass, I know."
Norrington couldn't really answer that, as it was true. So he remained silent.
Eponine turned back to Jack. "So we have a deal?" she said, extending one red-gloved hand.
Jack took it with his dirty one, which he wiped on his equally filthy trousers before shaking hers. "A deal, Lady deAugust. Prepare to come aboard." He turned to Will and Elizabeth. "How about you, whelp? You and your wife up for some more adventure?"
"I think my father would die on the spot," Elizabeth said.
"True enough," Will said. "We've got to get home. But it was good to see you looking well, Jack."
Jack nodded. "Good to be seen, looking well," he returned.
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They were treated to dinner in Jack's cabin that night, the three of them, where Jack entertained them with some stories about life on the high seas, and they listened, both pretending to be interested. Eponine, because there were few things left in the waking world that could truly surprise her, and Jillian...
Jillian, because strangely enough, every word that came out of his mouth, she already seemed to know.
As they sipped after-dinner brandy --- Jack sticking to a mug of rum, but promising them both not to get too drunk --- Eponine excused herself.
Jillian almost followed, but Eponine made a sitting motion with her hands.
"You'll be fine, love," she said, winking at Jack. "I'm sure Captain Sparrow is quite charmed with your company, and will remain honorable and stay a gentleman in my absence."
"Absolutely, m'lady," Jack said, but as he turned to Jillian, he realized that he meant it. He smiled at her, and she smiled back.
Eponine walked out onto the deck, toward the port side of the ship, and stared out over the water. She still loved the night, when the stars reflected on the open waters of the sea, and the world was just a giant bowl of stardust.
There was someone beside her. Someone wrapped in a thick brown cloak.
"You did well, Epitome."
"Thank you," she said, looking up at the cloaked face. Surprise was alien to her, but she genuinely felt it this time. "What brings you here?"
"What brings me anywhere. The book," Destiny replied. "It is written that I come to see you."
"And what is it you've come to see me for?" Epitome asked softly.
"Many reasons. One of which, to tell you that it was also written in the book that you were to leave the Dreaming, which you did."
"Ah." Epitome gazed out over the water. "I very nearly didn't."
"I know." There was very little to hide from Destiny. Only Delirium had ever managed, and look at the state she was in. "It was necessary for me to put certain events in order."
"You, Lord Destiny?" Epitome asked. "But you never interfere."
"I intervene only when the book states that I do," he replied. "And it was written that I was to send Desire to drive you from the Dreaming."
Epitome stared up at him, well beyond surprise at this point. She found herself so much engulfed in it that she could not speak.
Destiny continued, "It was necessary for you to leave the Dreaming. There are other matters about this world that involve you, other purposes to which the First Envoy must be present, and you were too much involved in the realm of the Dreaming. As you said, Dream is not the only of the Endless that made you. You are a creature of us all."
"Save Despair," she said.
"Save Despair, as it should be. And you have done well here, putting things right." Destiny did not smile, but she could tell he was pleased. It just came from being made from a part of him.
"I hope it goes well for them," she said.
"It is not my place to tell the destiny of others, but I can assure you, they will be fine, although they are human, and are subject to the rises and falls of all humans. But they shall love each other, and that shall be enough for them."
Epitome nodded. "Good," she whispered. She grew thoughtful. "So...Desire was acting under your direction?"
"Desire follows no direction," Destiny said.
"And to tell me this...is this all your reason for coming here?"
"No, there is one more thing." At that point, Destiny had reached into the book, and his white fingers had gripped a page of the book, and to her amazement, he tore the page from the binding.
"When we created you, I did not give you a gift, because at that time, it was not written that I should do so," he said. He handed her the page, which she took in her hands, and it felt like nothing in the entire universe she had ever touched before. "This is yours. It is your own, Epitome. It is my gift to you."
Instinctively, she folded the page, and placed it inside her bodice, close to her heart. "Thank you," she whispered.
"Do not thank me," Destiny said, almost kindly. "Simply do as it tells you."
"Yes," she said. "I shall."
"I know," Destiny replied, and he was gone, and Epitome was alone.
After staring at the stars for a while longer, she retired to her cabin, which was the only other decent cabin on board, as Jack was not about to give up his grand Captain's cabin to passengers he really had no business carting across the Atlantic Ocean. She sat in the dark, in the quiet, and listened to the distant sound of Jillian's laughter, as she and Jack talked until deep into the night.
They had time, on this ship, and by the time they landed in the Americas, Epitome would have thought of a story to write and send to Jillian's mother, something that would quite well establish that Jillian would not be returning, that she would most likely not be heard of by her relatives again. Which would suit Jillian just fine, and perhaps even her parents, who would at least be relieved that Jillian had found a place in this world.
Maybe she would tell her that Jillian had died, suddenly of a fever caught on the vessel, or maybe that she was drown in a storm, or maybe even the truth, that she had run off with a pirate. She found herself wondering if Jillian would be happy leading the life of a pirate, but reassured herself that the adventure in the Dreaming had taken its toll on Jack, too, and that perhaps retirement for him was not too far off in the future. He did, after all, have all the gold in the Isle de Muerta to keep him quite rich and happy for the rest of his days.
She smiled in the dark. It really didn't matter. It was their own story, not hers any longer. She would just consider herself lucky to witness the parts she did.
Traveling in the waking world did make her feel the inclination to sleep, and she rested her head on her pillow, and closed her eyes. She did not dream.
She did not want to dream anymore. She simply wanted to live.
The End.
A/N: Aha! There it is, the end. I knew I'd find it eventually. Well, it's nearly midnight and I'm off to bed. Thank you to all my reviews, past present and future! Alas, I have no sequel planned, but I am starting to get a Secret Window fic forming in my head. No crossovers this time...maybe. Who knows? By the by, I do love Norrington--he just fit in better here as the uptight Naval officer. :)