Nine -- The Calm, And Then The Storm
"We're here to see Captain Jack Sparrow," Will said to the man who stood at the edge of the ship, the railing thick between them. He stood on the dock, watching the ship bob slightly up and down - things weren't completely natural here. The ship was a bit too close to the dock, the water was a bit too buoyant for it to be rocking like that, so close to shore, and the ship itself looked nearly identical to the Black Pearl, with the exception of the sails, which had not a hole in them to be seen.
The man, young looking, rather clean for a pirate, with sand-brown hair and large, suspicious eyes, had his arms crossed and looked doubtful.
"Haven't heard anyone call the captain by that name," he said. "You mean Captain Jack Talon, don't ye?"
Will started. He hadn't considered a name change. Jack had always been so proud of his Sparrow, it had been his catch phrase, something he like to throw around, almost obnoxiously. "I'm Captain Jack Sparrow, mate. Savvy?"
"We're old friends of his," Will attempted.
This made matters a bit worse. Now the man was smiling and shaking his head. "Only people the Captain knows are pirates and whores." His eyes drifted to Elizabeth. "Maybe he knows her, does he?"
Elizabeth let out a slightly indignant sound. Will hushed her. "Please, could you tell him that Will and Elizabeth Turner wish to speak to him? He knew my father, Bootstrap Bill."
The man considered. "Sounds like a pirate name. Are you a pirate, Mr. Turner?"
"Yes, in a manner of speaking," Will said, and Elizabeth smirked a little behind him.
"Well, the Captain ain't here," the pirate said. "He's gone off recruiting, and we don't know when to expect him back."
"Recruiting?" Elizabeth said. "For what?"
"Well, that be the Captain's business," the man replied. "But it'll be big, as fits his reputation. If you were willing to sign up for whatever business it is, I'd be willing to tell him that you came by."
Will resisted the urge to sigh in frustration. He had no idea how much - or little - time they had. But there wasn't much else of a choice. "Yeah, tell him. We'll be...in town. Do you know of anyplace we can stay?"
"Anyplace you can stay," the man replied with a smirk. "If you got money. Even if you don't, if people take a likin' to ye."
"Yes, well...thank you," Will said, turning away. After they were a few yards distant, Elizabeth spoke up.
"What now, oh fearless leader?"
"Don't start. We did the best we could."
"Oh, yes, we went through all the trouble we did just to spend five minutes talking to a flunkie."
"Well, since Jack's ship is still here, he still has to be on this shoal," Will pointed out reasonably. "We could be productive with our time and go looking for him."
"And if he comes back?" Elizabeth countered. "While we're out looking?"
Will shrugged. "If you have a better suggestion -"
"I don't, not really. We can circle about, check back here every night."
"Night?" Will looked up into the heavens. He hadn't really noticed the sky before in this place. Sometimes it seemed it was as bright as noon on a clear day, and at other times it was the soft rose and gray of twilight, or even dawn, leading into the inky blacks and blues of night. "I don't know if this place has night or day. We're in the dream world."
"Then if we're in the dream world, time doesn't have any meaning here. Which means we could potentially have...forever." She looked up at the sky, which was, at the moment, turning darker. "I wonder if it ever rains here."
"If we're here long enough, we'll find out. Where do you want to start looking?"
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There was no real sense of time in the Dreaming, for dreams were not subject to the rules of logic or order, time or space.
Time was still spent, however, and Jillian barely rested from the day Jack had nearly taken her from the Sparkling Diamond. She learned the ways of the sword, and she got pretty good at them.
The swords, however, were strange things. She'd been used to the flat, long, straight blade of the English sword, but these swords that Nadine used were different. They were slightly curved, and thick, even though the edge was razor sharp, they were nearly round in the body. Nadine called them "katanas." She said they were from a country called Japan. This fascinated Jillian, as she had never been to Japan, and had only read about the exotic country in her books.
She found herself missing her books for the first time since she'd arrived in this land.
There was more than enough to keep her busy, and the others as well. For Satine had begun to change.
She was no longer Satine. That secret was out, and she did not care. It was revealed delicately to Sarah, first, and then one by one to the others. It was surprising, and for some, a big deal was made about it, in the form of a million questions, some as relevant as how many thousands of years she'd been alive, some as inappropriately personal as asking if the Dream King was a good lay.
Lady Epitome looked slightly different from Satine. She shared her abundance of red, flowing hair that was never out of place, had her same powerful singing voice, although the tone was altered, the same willowy body as lovely as a goddess carved from white marble, but there were altercations, especially in her face, that showed she had been wearing a disguise for a long time.
It seemed, however, that as soon as this news broke, and was absorbed by everyone, everyone abruptly proceeded to go about their business as if nothing had happened, and that, maybe, there had never been a Lady Satine, or that Lady Epitome was absolutely the same as Lady Satine, and only a name had been changed.
Dreams had such twisted logic.
Some considerable time passed, although it was impossible to actually measure it in days, or weeks, although to Jillian it felt as if a full month, possibly more, had passed, as she felt so abruptly different, her body leaner and more muscular, some of her soft, womanly curves gone to be replaced by hard sinew and endurance in her grip. How this change was possible in the short time of a month, Jillian could not quite say, and wondered if maybe it had been several months, or even a year, or a decade, or a century...
At any rate, after this passing, Jillian finally went to the Lady Epitome and asked her if she knew if it were possible for her to wake up.
"I thought that Morpheus had explained that to you, dear," Epitome said, from where she sat at a vanity in the red room, brushing out her long red hair, which was starting to look more golden by the day. "You can only wake from Jack's domain, since that is where your dream started."
"Which doesn't make sense," Jillian said. She sat down on a nearby chair, looking at her own reflection contrasted against Epitome's. "In dreams, you never finish where you start. I mean, you have three, four different dreams in a row, don't you?"
"For normal dreamers, yes, but you've been here a long time, and your condition is a little different," Epitome said, turning to her. Emerald eyes had started to take on a slightly blue tint, looking now like shining aquamarines. "I've been giving it some considerable thought, and I think your presence here was caused not just by Jack's desire, but maybe by Desire itself."
"Desire?" Jillian whispered. "One of the Endless?"
Epitome grimaced. "Yes. You would have known if you'd met it."
Jillian was silent for a long moment. The pale face on the edge of her lifeboat, talking to her...the thick, sweet smell of summer peaches..."I think I have met her," she whispered.
"I thought as much." Epitome gestured for Jillian to come closer, and began to brush her long, silken blond hair with her own hairbrush. "I can only assume that your body has been recovered and is being kept alive, since you have not yet died. It seems that waking up might be the best course of action you could take."
"But to do that, I'd have to go back to Jack!" Jillian cried.
"Yes," Epitome said softly.
Jillian was silent for several long moments. "How would I wake up, once I returned to him?"
"There are tricks, and it's possible that I could help you..." Then Epitome faltered.
"No, you've gotten into so much trouble already." Jillian turned and looked at their reflections in the mirror. "You're so beautiful, Lady Epitome. I don't understand why Jack would want me with someone like you in existence."
Epitome chuckled. She had not yet revealed to Jillian about her night with Jack, and hesitated. It could make her want Jack less and possibly help her, or it could make her feel that Epitome - then Satine - had betrayed her, and cause her to leave, which would also cause her to lose Epitome's protection. Which would leave her wide open to Jack.
"If you did return to the ship," Epitome said softly, "it is really only a matter of you being able to protect yourself, isn't it?" She hesitated. "Protect yourself from whatever punishment Jack thinks-"
Jillian's shudder cut her off. "Your ladies have taught me the sword."
"Do you think you could use it against him? He's quite good."
"I wouldn't hesitate to try, if the opportunity presented itself," she replied. Then she gave a little smile. "I rather think I would enjoy trying. It would scare the hell out of him, regardless."
"Really?" Epitome was puzzled. "I thought being a pirate's woman meant you had to learn to defend yourself."
"So did I," Jillian chuckled. "But Jack liked that I was a lady. He thrived on it. He didn't want me to have to even touch a sword. He liked being my defender." She snorted. "Then behind closed doors, well, it could be quite a different story."
"That's men," Epitome said. "They want a lady in public and a whore in private." She paused. "Surprise is always a great weapon. As long as you had a sword on you, he couldn't force you to do anything."
"Maybe, but what if he became too angry with me, thought I wasn't worth the trouble, and tried to kill me?" Jillian was horrified at the thought. "If I die here, won't I die in the real world, too?"
"Sometimes yes, sometimes no. Depends on the dreamer." Epitome stopped brushing her hair. "What choice do you really have, love? Unless you want to stay here, forever. Do you?"
Jillian did not answer. She stood up, curtseyed, thanked Epitome for her time, and left, lost in thought.
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It was a short time later, but it could have been days, before Epitome and Jillian spoke again, but this time, it was in the main room, where there had once been large cushions for the girls to sit. The cushions had been removed to make room for their practice.
In lines and rows, they swung their katana swords, exactly like Samurai practicing in ancient Japan. Sarah called out instructions and the women obeyed, flawlessly.
They were all dressed in their back, with their wigs in place, although they had not worn them in days, as Epitome had closed the Sparkling Diamond, and their only work was to practice the sword. None of them, however, wore their veils.
It unsettled Jillian, as she looked around, at how easily one could be mistaken for another. And then she smiled.
That was exactly the point.
Epitome approached, dressed very similarly, her black trousers and black shirt only slightly less formal than the rest. She seemed cavalier about what was approaching them, as if she not only anticipated it, but relished it. There was a glow in her aquamarine eyes that was nearly unsettling.
The longer Jillian stared at it, the more she felt the excitement course though her veins.
"It's been a long time since I've had to use Destructions skills," Epitome said, her voice carrying even though she did not speak loudly. She had a box in her arms, ordinary white cardboard, and set it down, pulling back one of the flaps. Reaching in with one marble-white hand, she produced a veil of an exotic, intense blue, almost fluorescent in nature, and held it up.
"You shall wear these today," she announced, her eyes going to Jillian. "It will make you all appear alike. The glow of the cloth will cause a diffusion of light, making your faces nearly indistinguishable, right to the color of your eyes." She looked to Sarah, from whom she could sense a deep doubt.
"Why, m'lady?" Sarah asked, her tone low.
"Because," Epitome said with a smile, "Jack will not harm Jillian. He will not allow her to be harmed. So therefore, we shall all be Jillian. It will cause him confusion. He won't be expecting it, and it will give us a definite advantage. I, however," she added, settling the veil across Sarah's arm, "shall remain as I am. I do not need this kind of protection."
There was a murmur. "Are we in danger, Lady?" asked Vivian, who was only slightly less new to the Sparkling Diamond than Jillian, a very quiet girl who could slice through the air with her blade and make the metal ring. A good fighter, but she was timid otherwise and kept to herself.
"Never fear the danger!" Nadine replied, raising her fist, a grand smile on her face. "We fight under the wing of Lady Epitome! Captain Hook didn't get us, and neither shall Captain Jack Talon!"
There was a murmur of excitement. Jillian looked around her again. It occurred to her that they could be hurt, they could even die. But none of them cared, because here, it didn't matter.
Here, all was as it should be.
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Will and Elizabeth didn't know whether to be terrified or exhilarated, and were probably equally of both. They had searched as much of Moulin that the felt brave enough to set foot in, and no sign of Jack. Finally, coming back around to the large wooden doors of the closed Sparkling Diamond, they saw a large crowd approaching.
It was a bit overwhelming. The things the had seen would have filled a dozen or more stories, but there was no time to register them. The crowd that approached was exactly what they had hoped to see, and dreaded at the same time.
Pirates. Pirates like they had never seen. Pirates of every size and shape and color. Pirates who looked like they were wearing armor, pirates who looked like they were wearing only their own filth. All of them brandished weapons, swords, guns, spears, things Elizabeth and Will had not seen in their lifetime.
At the head of them, stood someone they just barely recognized. He wore a large, dark velvet tri-cornered had atop his head, which was still thick and dark, his forehead swathed in a bright scarlet bandana made of the finest silk. Beads dangled from his dreadlocks, not nearly as tangled as they had been in his waking life.
Jack Sparrow hardly looked the same.
Jack had always been dirty - that was something they'd always known and just accepted about him. But this Jack was clean. Pristine clean. His goatee had been trimmed, the open wound that always seemed to be on his jawline clearly gone. Even his dangling beard braids had vanished. The kohl around his eyes was the last trace of the old Jack they saw, because even his clothes were neat, and his walk had lost a good deal of his nearly-drunken sway.
He looked at them, one to the other. In his dark, dark eyes, like ebony and coal, a slight flicker of recognition sparkled.
"Do I know ye?" he said in a low voice, seeming to know that they could hear.
"My God," Elizabeth whispered.
"Jack?" Will said, nearly smiling. He was actually impressed. "You...you're so..."
"So what?" Jack snapped. "Who are you?"
"You don't know us?" Elizabeth said. She stepped forward, and Jack's eyes, automatically, went to her chest, very typical Jack. She put her hands on her hips and smirked. "Some things never change, do they?"
The corner of his mouth quirked. "Listen, girlie, I don't know quite for sure who ye are, but I've got business to attend to with the people behind those gates, so please, quietly step aside for now, and I'll give you a nice tumble later, when I've got more time."
Will cleared his throat, annoyed. "Jack, we were told you were in danger," he said.
Jack arched an eyebrow, also annoyed. "What makes you think you can address me so informally, whelp?" he snapped. "Me name is Captain Jack Talon, Captain Talon if you're speakin' to me, and unless your business is frightfully important, move aside before I skewer you with me sword and put you aside!"
There was a slight intake of breath from the couple. Captain Jack Talon? What the hell had happened to Sparrow?
On an impulse, Elizabeth stepped forward, grabbing Jack's arm. The long white shirt was buttoned loosely and dangled half-way down his lower arm, and she was easily able to push it back. She twisted his arm around.
The tattoo was gone.
Jack was looking at her, half-way between shock and admiration, but anger clearly pervading. He tightened his fist, even as his wrist was still in her grip.
"What might ye be lookin' for, missy?" he said, his voice a husky hiss through gritted teeth.
"Your tattoo," Elizabeth snapped. "And your brand, the P from the West India Trading Company. You had it when I met you. What happened to it?"
Jack jumped, pulled back his arm, and then something bizarre happened.
He looked down at the arm, and there, as if someone had rubbed lemon juice over invisible ink, the line of a sparrow suddenly appeared.
"Wh...what?" he muttered, baffled.
Will stepped closer. The sun came out behind the sparrow, and the lines grew darker, spreading across his skin. "Jack," he whispered, so only the man would hear him, "don't you know who you are?"
Jack looked up at him, and for a moment, he was there - Jack Sparrow stared aback at him, unsure, but as swarmy as ever. Then, the darkness closed back in, and Jack shook his arm. The tattoo vanished as if he had wiped it from his skin. "Take these two to the ship and lock them in the brig," he growled. Two men came forward and laid hold of both Will and Elizabeth. "I'll deal with them after I get Jillian back."
Elizabeth and Will both struggled, but it was little use. They were overpowered and taken to the ship that had looked like the Black Pearl, and locked in the hold downstairs. No one did anything to help them, because no one was around to watch, and if they had, they certainly would have known better than to get mixed up with pirates.
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To his amazement, the doors opened.
They opened. As if they were expected.
Jack was far, far from stupid. He knew that to go into that courtyard, empty as it was, was a foolish thing to do. It smelled of the word trap. It smelled more of the word trap than a whorehouse in Tortuga had smelled of rum and sex.
He hadn't thought of Tortuga in a long, long time. What the hell was wrong?
Shaking himself, Jack took a tentative step forward, sword drawn. The large building, which he'd never really gotten a good look at previously because of all the crowds of dreamers that filled this place on a regular basis, was like some kind of giant, gothic theater. There was the soft yellow glow of lights coming from inside, but other than that, it was totally silent.
"Captain?" came Pierre's voice from beside him. "What should we do?"
Jack grunted, trying to think quickly. He was pretty good at quick thinking in the old days, but brute force had pretty much run roughshod over those skills.
Why in the hell did he keep thinking about the old days? He had thought he'd forgotten them, but now...
Of course. It was that strange couple. The man whose dirty, pretty face seemed so irritatingly familiar on a double front, sometimes on his side, sometimes against him, but always in his way. The girl whose body was still a lingering memory on his fingertips from a failed encounter on a desert island and a whole shipment of burned rum, the smell a ghost memory in his nose.
"But why is the rum gone?" he muttered. Then he shook his head fiercely. "Fuck this," he said. "We attack. Full force."
"Butâ€""
"You heard me," Jack growled. "They know we're coming, fine. What in the hell can a crew of women do against us? Slap us to death?"
Pierre, hesitant but ever obedient, gave the call. And like the pirates they were, they flooded the courtyard and stormed the front door.
What met them was a sight Jack had never even imagined.
They stood in rows, evenly spaced, all identical in black, their faces an iridescent blue glow, aided by veils. Each of them held in their hand, pointed down with the tip just touching the floor, a sleek, thick, slightly curved sword.
Jack had seen them once or twice. They were called katanas.
He realized, too late, his mistake. His obsession had pushed him too hard. But it was far too late to turn back now and save face. If he whelched in front of this crew, he'd been the victim of mutiny again.
Rage surged through him, giving him strength. He'd rot in bloody hell before that happened again.
"Hello, Jack," an almost familiar voice called. Jack looked up to see a woman who bore a tremendous resemblance to Satine standing on the stage, her hands on her hips, dressed much like the others, but looser, less formal.
"Ah, you must be the Lady...Epitome," Jack said. "I met your sister Satine. She was quite a good lay."
The woman smiled. It was a purely malicious, smug smile. "You've made a rather grievous mistake, Captain Sparrow. I suggest you turn tail and run before I chop it off. Or one of my girls do."
Jack shook his head, smirking at the use of the old name. He'd rather deserved it. "You know, luv, we could just save ourselves all this trouble, you could just hand over what I've come for, and we could leave you and your little insane asylum in peace."
Epitome shook her head. "Jack, after all we've meant to each other, you're going to dump me for your old love? Didn't our night together mean anything?"
"Not a thing, luv," he shot back, sincerely, and then he hesitated for a moment. He glanced around, wondering...oh, hell, he realized.
Epitome sighed, tossed her pale strawberry hair. "Oh, well," she said. "I guess that's the way it goes. Well, you're welcome to try and find her...if you can."
Jack's eyes were roving back and forth now, looking. Oh bloody fucking hell, they all looked like Jillian! Panic flooded his chest, and he pushed it back. For a second, he didn't know what was worse - that they all looked like Jillian, or that Jillian had just heard that he'd slept with Satine. That couldn't be sitting well...
But then his eyes caught movement. A head had spun around, toward the back. Only one head. Yes, that had to be Jillian, only she would have reacted to what Satineâ€"Epitomeâ€"said. Epitome didn't even spare her a glance, but her face lost its smile as she, too, realized what had just happened.
"Wound only, mates, don't kill," Jack said, narrowing his eyes on his target.
"Butâ€"" Pierre said.
"And before you do any ravishing, take their veils off and make sure you're not accidentally sticking it to Miss Jillian....or else I'll have to cut your tallywaggers off later."
And with that, Jack gave the yell, and the fight started.
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Jillian stood close to the back, her head reeling. What had Epitome just said?
She's slept with Jack?
Her grip on the sword tightened and she turned back to where the pirates were starting to carve their way into the line. The girls were good, giving them just enough rope to hang themselves, encircling a bunch and then cutting them off before cutting them to pieces.
Only now that the fight had started did Epitome give her a look. "What, you're jealous?" she snapped. "I did it to try and dissuade him from chasing you. You wanted to leave, remember?"
Jillian raised her sword, the urge to attack the pirates suddenly refuted to an urge to chop off Epitome's head. She'd never been this angry in her life.
"That's good," Epitome said. "Use that anger. Because a man who doesn't know the meaning of fidelity is trying carry you off by force back to his ship. You going to let him?"
Someone got too close. Jillian caught the flash of a white shirt, soiled with years of never having been washed. She swung out, and was satisfied to hear a loud yelp of pain.
She'd deal with Epitome later.