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The Only Rules That Matter (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

"That is not a wise idea, Jack Sparrow." A voice came from behind Jack and Joe, and when they turned around a monster of a man stood behind them. At least as tall as Jack, if not a bit taller, the man's face was that of a squid only with far more tentacles. Rather than hands, one was a tentacle and the other an enormous lobster claw while one leg was also that of a lobster. "Calypso and I have a deal. We will lead you to Hyperborea but you'll not heave to." He took a few heavy steps forward until his face was a few inches from Jack's. "We'll have plenty of time to talk, Jack. Just give it a few years."

In a blink he was gone. Because of the few people left on the ship, Joe would be the only one who could confirm that the new captain hadn't hallucinated. Indeed, as though nothing had happened a wall-eyed youth named Terry came up from below decks, squinting on the sunlight until his eyes adjusted. A black paste had been smeared around his eyes and he walked over to Jack and the first mate, offering a pot of the stuff to them.

"Here, Cap'n," he offered. "Sa'adun showed me how ta put it on...'fore 'e washed overboard. S'posed ta fix the sun glare an' it worked purdy good in Barbados." Sa'adun had been a sailor from Egypt who had washed overboard the second day of the storm.

"Ta, Terry," Joe said slowly, taking the pot. He had recovered from the shock of the terrifying squid-man about halfway through the hand's suggestion. He looked sideways at Jack, making it clear they should probably talk about it privately.

Very suddenly, a ghostly cry came from above them. "Fifteen men on a dead man's chest...yo ho ho and a bottle of rum," it creaked slowly, echoing in the emptiness of the icy waters. Suddenly it interrupted itself with a loud squawk and a whistle followed by several clicks. "Drink and the devil has done for the rest." A blue and yellow parrot shuffled up in the rigging, looking down at them. He tilted his head and leaned down, as though to make sure he made eye contact with Jack. "Wouldn't do that if I was you." He squawked again before flying off to destinations unknown.
 
Jack stared at the spot where, only a few minutes ago, a horrifying apparition of a sea demon had stood. "Joe?" he finally asked.

"Aye, Cap'n?" Joe answered, equally dumbstruck.

"Did.. did you see that?"

"The squid-nan-monster?"

"Yeah."

"...nope."

"Me neither," Jack declared, glad for the distraction when Terry rolled up. He considered the pit for a moment, then shrugged and smeared the black stuff on his eyes. "Oh, this is nice," he decided aloud. "Really cuts down on the glare."

And then the bloody parrot arrived. It delivered its warning, then flew off. Jack watched it go, then signaled for Joe to follow as he headed for his cabin. "So," he said, closing the door, "neither of us saw a tentacle-bearded horror with a pincer instead of a hand. That, I think, calls for a drink." He poured two measures of rum into two tarred leather cups. "And this person neither of saw told us that we'd see but not land on Hyperborea."

He sighed. "Bollocks."
 
"Glad ta here it, Cap'n," Terry said with an obsequious little half-bow. "Terry, sir. Terry Ragetti, iffin ya ever needs more. We ah, we didn't talk much...'fore the storm."

"And what would your wife say to look at you now?" Joe laughed tightly, slapping Jack on the back as he smeared the khol around his eyes. He wasn't very good at pretending nothing was wrong. The parrot, thankfully, interrupted them. He looked up at the bird as it delivered its warning then flew off. Shortly after he followed Jack to the captain's cabin.

"Maybe he meant we'd not heave to alongside his ship?" Joe suggested with a raised eyebrow. "Hopefully. What I hear from the legends of Hyperborea though...not too bad a place to make land." He gave a half-hearted smile, hopeful that was what the tentacle-bearded man had meant.

The Lord Cavernon followed the ghostly ship for the better part of three days before they passed out of the Arctic cold and into climes not so warm as the Caribbean, though much warmer than an English summer. It was a strange land where the palm trees contrasted tarkly with the glacial mountains that surrounded them, as well as the shimmering white stone city in the center of the land. Strange pyramids surrounded the city at their cardinal points, made out of various materials no one on board was familiar with. The ship they had been following disappeared, its mission completed. Jack Sparrow had reached Hyperborea.

The same day, the parrot from the rigging reached an obscure island in the Caribbean called Shipwreck. It landed on the shoulder of a grizzled old pirate, who listened intently to his message. With a scowl he nodded and dismissed the bird with a lazy wave of his hand. The captain of a vessel stood nearby, waiting for the word. The Pirate King nodded and the captain left to gather his crew. They sailed for Dover as soon as they could.
 
He poured two measures of rum into two tarred leather cups. "And this person neither of saw told us that we'd see but not land on Hyperborea." A sigh. "Bollocks."

"Maybe he meant we'd not heave to alongside his ship?" Joe suggested with a raised eyebrow. "Hopefully. What I hear from the legends of Hyperborea though...not too bad a place to make land." He gave a half-hearted smile, hopeful that was what the tentacle-bearded man had meant.

"I think it's safe to say," Jack countered, "that we should assume the worst case. Which, in this case, means both." He downed the rum. "And that's a problem. The Lord Cavernon has to make repairs, if we ever hope to see England again. And, as you say, the legends say it isn't a bad place to make land."

He poured another drink. "Damn Calypso," he muttered. "Her and the kings and the whole bloody lot of them. I just want to go home."

Days passed, in which the Lord Cavernon followed the hulking ghost ship through the arctic waters. The course was due north - Jack confirmed that regularly - taking them closer and closer to the Arctic ice at the top of the world. As the temperature dropped and dropped, men shivered and stamped their feet and gathered around braziers to stave off frostbite, and the rigging and sails crusted with ice. Hourly, it seemed, men had to go aloft with rammers and broomhandles to crack and chip at the ice to keep the ship moving.

And then, after three days, the weather turned. Ice began to melt, men began to shed heavy coats, and land was sighted. Jack stared at the island, transfixed. "Hyperborea?" Joe asked.

"Must be."

"Do we risk going ashore?"

Jack glanced at him, eyes dark and haunted behind the mask of kohl. "We've no choice. And that looks like a good harbor, there., with plenty of timber. Let's take her in."


Ben Halliwell sank into his usual seat at the Black Anchor, grateful to ease off his feet. It had been a long day at the apothecary, and a pint and a spot of dinner would suit him just right. And besides, Jenny was working again - and just seeing the lovely Irish barmaid brightened his day. How John had ever gotten so lucky as to marry her, he'd never know.

Really, she deserved a whole lot better than a malingering layabout who disappeared for months at end. Sailing for the Company was the word, but there were rumors he'd turned pirate.

But Jenny was walking over now. He gave her his best smile. "Evening! I'll have my usual, please. A pint of stout, and whatever's for dinner." He hesitated. "Or two pints, if I can convince you to sit down and keep me company?"
 
Hyperboreans met the Lord Cavernon in the harbor. These strange people were tall, even the women standing taller than Jack, with dark skin and platinum blonde hair. Between these two extremes their eyes--which were varying shades of blue and green--were particularly striking and flashed as they spoke in strange tongues to the crew. Through the crowd came one particularly important-looking, particularly tall man as the others began trying to communicate and between the two groups enough sign language had been managed to convey the crew's needs.

"Which among you is called Jack Sparrow?" the tall man's voice boomed. The other Hyperboreans quieted and looked expectantly at the crew. When Jack spoke up he smiled and beckoned him forward. "You are expected. Follow me, please. My people will help your crew make repairs to your ship while you come with me. Calypso has sent me to find you." He turned his head slightly and raised an eyebrow, as though to ask what business Jack had with the sea goddess, but said nothing more.

~*~

Jenny looked a bit frazzled to say the least. It was Thursday, the day all the ships usually came in at least to this port, and there was a particularly rowdy bunch in the Black Anchor this evening. She'd already broken up a fight between English and French sailors, though what the fight had been about she had no idea, and a group of Irishmen upon finding their kinswoman had tried to monopolize her time. Already she'd been drug into three sing-alongs and had to creep away from one sad old drunk's slurred rants about how terrible the English were. When he'd caught her she'd been forced to inform him that she'd married an Englishman, at which point he mumbled something about traitors and let her be. Additionally whenever she was in the kitchen she could hear through the wall in her parents' home little Lucy screaming her way through a fever and Mary trying to soothe her. And now came the dinner rush.

"Pint and steak'n'kidney pie," Jenny repeated, marking down prices on a little notepad with a bit of charcoal from her apron. "Anything--?" But then Ben invited her to sit with him. She smiled apologetically and shifted her weight. "Sorry, Ben. We're slammed and Katie's out sick today," she said with a rueful tone. She had never held Christopher's wrongdoings against his son and had maintained a somewhat more distant though still friendly relationship since. "If you stay a few hours I might have time later, but it's the rush right now."

The bell over the door tinkled as a group of six grizzled-looking men came in and sat down. She nodded to them, trying not to look too distraught, before turning back to Ben. "Lord a'mercy. I'm sorry love, but I just dun have time right now. I'll get your food out quick as we can." Jenny gave him a quick smile and patted his shoulder before stepping quickly to take care of the new table. "Evenin', gents. What can I get for ya?"
 
Jack, not unexpectedly, started in surprise when the giant leader called his name. Hesitantly he stepped forward. "Ah... that'd be... well, me, mate." A brief pause. "Have we been introduced? Because I am quite certain I would recall meeting a man like you."

The giant gestured for him to follow. "You are expected."

"Am I now?" Jack answered. "See, I find that a mite problematic. On account of how I didn't know I was coming and of how I had explicitly decided that I was going to not come to Hyperborea - no offense, I hope, because your island looks lovely. But, well, I had intended to go home."

The giant gestured again. "Follow me, please. My people will help your crew make repairs to your ship while you come with me."

Jack hesitated. It was a small price to pay. Almost too small. What was the catch?

"Calypso has sent me to find you."

"Bloody hell," he managed through gritted teeth.

"Cap'n?" Joe asked. "Who's this 'Calypso'?"

It was right on the tip of Jack's tongue to tell him. But, he swallowed that urge. "Dunno," he said. "Guess I'll find out. See to the ship, Joe. I'll be back soon." And with that, he swaggered off after the giant.


"Well," Ben said, presenting a carefully thoughtful expression. "I don't believe I have any appointments first thing tomorrow morning, so... I might be able to wait...." He was going to say more, but the door clashed open and a new group of rough-looking sailors stomped in. Jenny made her apologies and hurried to take their order, leaving a disappointed Ben to watch her leave.

Well, not entirely disappointed. Because she'd touched him, and his shoulder seemed to tingle from the contact. And because she was worth watching leave - kind of swishy and bouncy and hypnotic. And so he watched as she stepped up and asked what she could get the new group.

"Ye c'n bring us a pint each," said one of them, a man who'd been homely even before he'd lost an eye and had his nose broken at least twice. "Whate'er on tap, an ye c'n keep it comin'." He glanced around the table. "Been at sea fer half a year, an' it's thirsty work - ain't it, boys?"

A ragged chorus of "aye" and "yep" broke forth.

"An' is that beef roasting o'er on yon spit?" he continued, nodding at the kitchen fireplace. "Or be it mutton, 'r pork? Well, no matter - bring it o'er 'ere, an' we'll eat on that while we drink." He grinned, tossing a purse that clinked and clattered on the table. "We've means, lass. Ne'er ye fear we'll run up a bill we can't pay."
 
The giant led him through a shimmering white city to a large palace with many, many steps. The steps didn't seem to bother the enormous man, but Jack would have to raise his knee at least to his waist just to get his foot onto the step. Finally at the top, they were escorted into a large throne room. On the throne sat a man about as large as Jack's escort, but to whom the escort bowed deeply, dropping to his knees.

"I've found him," the escort murmured, but that seemed to be needless; the king had already risen to his feet.

"You are Jack Sparrow?" his voice wasn't loud, but it commanded the attention of the entire room.

~*~

Jenny smiled, but left the money on the table. "I trust ya, lads," she said warmly, though it was a false warmth. She didn't trust many of the sailors here who weren't regulars, but if she took their money now they might complain of being overcharged later. "I'll get that up right quick's we can," she promised. "I know how that goes, bein' at see. Me husband's a sailor, gone six months er more at a time. Thirsty work indeed." She chuckled a little and gave them another bright smile. Mrs. Sparrow didn't know that she had very likely said precisely the wrong thing to precisely the wrong people.
 
Jack eyed the huge man as he rose from his throne. "Ah...yeah. I'm Jack Sparrow. Captain of the Lord Cavernon. And I'm grateful to you for your help for both me and my crew. Your highness."

Highness wasn't kidding, either. Jack wasn't short, but he was staring the king right in the pectoral muscles. pectoral muscles that looked like they could be used to crack coconuts.

"Your man said that a... Calypso was asking for me?"


"Thirsty work!" the men chorused. The ugly man with the single eye grinned. "An' wit' a lass like ye waitin' fer 'im, I'll wager it's thirstier work a-comin' home!" More laughter, and the ugly man lifted his mug. "To our waitress lads! An' her lucky, lucky man." All of them lifted their mugs and then drank deeply, the ugly man drinking deepest of all.

Ben seethed as he watched. How dare they talk to Jenny like that?

"Yer man," the ugly man asked, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "He's not, ah, not... Cap'n Jack Sparrow, is he?"
 
The king laughed a deep, slow, booming laugh. "Calypso does not ask for anything, Captain Jack Sparrow!" he chuckled. "She is a goddess. She demands it." He motioned for Jack to walk with him to one of the walls of the pillared, airy throne room. It was open on all sides, able to look down on the entire kingdom. He pointed to one of the pyramids in the distance.

"Do you see that, Captain Sparrow?" he asked. "That is where she has lived for hundreds of years. When we bring her offerings and please her she allows us to continue in peace with good weather and bountiful harvests. But if, somehow, we do something which displeases her it is always the worst year yet Hyperborea has ever seen. One man came back from her dwelling where she was trapped, saying if we brought her Jack Sparrow to free her from her imprisonment, she would leave forever. For the most part we have lived in peace with her...but it would be nice not to be at the whim of a woman-god once again."

Here the King turned to him and looked him up and down. Jack certainly didn't look like much, especially compared to their best warriors. But Calypso had asked for Jack Sparrow, and so she would receive Jack Sparrow. "The way is dangerous, Captain Jack Sparrow...but we have faith in you. You will remain in the palace tonight, to ensure your crew does not sail, and someone will be around to bring you to the pyramid when the sun begins its climb once more." The King turned and a servant appeared at Jack's shoulder. It was apparent the conversation was over.

~*~

Jenny brought Ben his supper with a smile before moving on to the next table, not having much time to talk. She laughed when the men reiterated that it was thirsty work. When the one-eyed man commented on how much thirstier Jack must be when he comes home her smile remained, but took on a plastered-on appearance and didn't quite reach her eyes anymore. She nodded and started to walk away, but his voice caught her and brought her back.

"Captain?" Jenny chuckled. "Well I should think not! He's the supercargo and surgeon's assistant. My John, a captain?" She laughed again. He was out only on his second journey, after all. "Why, were you on the Abermarle with him? Does he talk about us, the kids'n me?"
 
Jack stared at the pyramid, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as the King explained why he was there. "So..." he answered, carefully, "I'm to walk into that man-made mountain there and rescue this Calypso, eh? Curious, that - I'd been under the impression that this was a recent thing. Still, can't really expect a pirate to be honest, can you? Which reminds me..."

He gestured at the pyramid with a thumb. "What happens if - and this is all hypothetical right now, mind - if I just bugger off down to the harbor and set sail? See, there's these nine 'Pirate Kings' who've threatened my family if I meddle here and, although I'm not one to bow and scrape left to my own devices, I'm not inclined to risk my wife and children in affairs that don't matter to me."

Here the King turned to him and looked him up and down. "The way is dangerous, Captain Jack Sparrow...but we have faith in you. You will remain in the palace tonight, to ensure your crew does not sail, and someone will be around to bring you to the pyramid when the sun begins its climb once more." The King turned and a servant appeared at Jack's shoulder. It was apparent the conversation was over.

"Oh, I see - I'm a volunteer, like it or not? Well, mate," Jack doffed his hat sardonically, then perched it on his head and clapped his hand on the servant's shoulder. "Lead on. Never let it be said that Captain Jack Sparrow is ungrateful!"


"Naw," the ugly man drawled. "I didn't serve wit' 'im on the Ablemarle, but it might be he'd recognize me from th' Recondite Rogue." More nasty laughter from the table. "Twas me brother he knifed, there. Weren't much to 'im, but 'e was kin 'e was. So I'm glade I volunteered fer this..."

He flipped the table as he rose, bringing laughter from some of the men and shouts of outrage from the others - mostly the ones that hadn't been holding their mugs when he did. The ugly man grabbed Jenny by the arm, swinging her around and shoving her into the wall, and holding her there. His breath, which stank of old cheese, was hot on her face. "Always wondered what 'is missus looked like." His free hand groped her breast. "Worth takin' a look, it seems..."

Behind him, a brawl was breaking out. The rough crewmen who'd accompanied the ugly man were in the thick of it, fists and feet and mugs swinging.
 
The King didn't say anything, but frowned slightly when Jack mumbled on about pirates. When he asked what would happen if he just left and sailed away, however, he smiled and chuckled a little. "We would not hurt you...but Calypso would probably kill you," he said casually. "She has been insisting for quite a while that you are the one who must free her. The way is dangerous, Captain Jack Sparrow...but we have faith in you. You will remain int he palace tonight, to ensure your crew does not sail, and someone will be around to bring you to the pyramid when the sun begins its climb once more.

The servant jumped visibly when Jack clapped his hand on his shoulder, but didn't say anything. Instead he led the stranger to a different building and into a palatial bedroom. The air was perfumed and several beautiful, and several nubile young women sat around his bed. Like the rest of the Hyperboreans they were very dark-skinned, with platinum blonde hair and bright eyes, and they smiled brightly with a sort of "come hither" look to them when Jack entered. The oldest of them couldn't have been more than eighteen.

"A token of our appreciation," the servant explained, "and to ensure you pass the night enjoyably." With a brief smile he bowed himself out of the room, shutting the enormous doors behind himself.

"My name is Kirianey." One of the girls had risen and stepped over to Jack, looking eager. "Come, Captain. You have had a long journey, and are very far from home. Let us help you relax." Kirianey smiled and took Jack's hands, pulling him gently toward the bed while the four other girls rose looking just as eager.

~*~

Jenny's smile faltered when the man mentioned the Recondite Rogue. Hadn't John said that was the name of his grandmother's ship? This man was a pirate! The surprise didn't have time to register, though, before her face fell into a scowl when he accused her husband of stabbing someone. Her John wasn't a murderer!

"Now you look--Ah!"

Jenny managed to jump back before the table landed on her as it flipped. She wasn't able to save her dress from having ale splashed over it, however, nor was she fast enough to avoid the ugly man's grip. She let out a small oof! when her back hit the wall before struggling against him. Her face burned as he groped at her breast and with her free hand she knocked his away.

"Getcher filthy hands offa me!" Jenny snarled. "I dunno whatcher playin' at--" There was a click they could hear even through the din, as it was right behind the ugly man.

"You getcher feckin' 'ands offa my daughter."

Though Sean and Jenny had always favored their mother in that they both had a reedy sort of build, Michael Dolan was not a small man. Though he was of middling height and well into his fifties, he was still broad-chested with thick forearms and even thicker biceps. Instead of stopping the fights between the patrons as he normally would have done, he had instead marched straight through the crowd to the man holding Jenny and was holding a pistol to his back. Never in her life had Jenny heard her father curse, nor had she ever seen the look of rage currently present in his eyes.
 
The bedroom was... spectacular. Big enough to hold his entire house in Dover, Jack thought. And the presence of the four full-grown women - larger-than-life, blonde and tanned, just like the men of Hyperborea - seemed to confirm that.

"Ah... question?" Jack said, wobbling a little as he stopped and raised a finger. "Who are they?"

It was a rhetorical question of sorts. From the looks they were giving him, it was obvious to even the most ignorant of men what they were there for.

"A token of our appreciation," the servant explained.

"Somehow," Jack muttered, "I was afraid of that."

"And to ensure you pass the night enjoyably." With a brief smile he bowed himself out of the room, shutting the enormous doors behind himself.

"NO, no, hang on here," Jack demanded. "Wait just a..."

A slim hand slid down his shoulder inside his shirt, and he felt a very feminine body press against his back. "My name is Kirianey," a sulty voice murmured.

Jack shrugged away, turning to look at Kirianey and the others with a wild-eyed expression. "Hold on a moment," he said, holding up his hands. "I've got..."

"Come, Captain. You have had a long journey, and are very far from home. Let us help you relax." Kirianey smiled and took Jack's hands, pulling him gently toward the bed while the four other girls rose looking just as eager.

"Now, hold on a moment," Jack said, pulling his hands free and backing away. He'd done a lot of hard things in his life, but this was one of the hardest. "See, I've got a wife waiting for me, and four children, and..."

Kirianey stepped forward, running her fingers over his face and slipping one into his mouth to silence him. Her finger tasted of wine and fruit. "I've two husbands waiting for me," she murmured, tossing his hat aside and running the fingers of her free hand through his hair. "But it is my honor to lie with our savior tonight."

Jack felt himself harden at the thought. Four women, begging him to have them, with no strings attached. And he was far from home. Jenny would never...

Jenny would...

Jack lept back, as if Kirianey were made of living fire. "NO!" he shouted, then shook himself. "No... I mean, I'm sorry." He picked up his battered tricorn and perched it back on his head. "See... my Jenny. She's... everything to me. My heart's desire." He backed away a little. "And you're beautiful, Kirianey, and I'm honored that you and your friends would want to share my bed. But, when we married, I promised myself to her and to no other, and I'm a man of my word."

Squaring his shoulders, he sighed. "I love her, more than I love life. And this... would hurt her, badly. And I... can't do that."


The ugly man glanced over his shoulder, grinning as he felt the barrel press against his spine. "Naw, ain't no need fer that," he said, carefully raising his hands and stepping away from Jenny.

There were more clicks as the rest of his men drew pistols, aiming at Michael. "Boys, boys," he called, humor twinkling in his eye. "'Twere jus' a bit o' a lark, it were. No need ta kill nobody."

Glancing back at Jenny, he offered a wink. "This time, anyway."

"Get out of my tavern," Michael snarled.

"Oh, no worries," the ugly man answered. "We're done here, we are. Fer now." He ran his eye over Jenny, clearly imagining her naked. " But ye tell yer man that he should listen better. An' when th' Bretheren Court tells 'im ta hark, he should harken. 'Cos we know where he lives, we do."

"Get. Out." Michael's knuckles were white on the pistol grip.

"We're goin', we're goin'," the ugly man laughed. His men headed for the door, and he followed in their wake. Then he paused. "but you tell 'im, girl. Or next time," he gestured at the common room, littered with broken crockery and broken furnature, and injured patrons. "Next time," he said, leering at Jenny, "me an' th' boys'll have us a whole lot more fun."

With an inarticulate shout of rage, Ben Halliwell threw himself to his feet and charged across the room. He put his weight into a left hook that made the ugly man stagger under the impact. But then, before Ben could respond, the ugly man kicked him hard in the crotch. As Ben went down, clutching himself, the ugly man kicked him in the head. And then in the ribs. "An' tell yer pet 'ere to..." Another kick in the ribs. "Mind his own business."

Laughing, he pulled the door shut behind him.
 
Kirianey didn't seem like she was taking 'no' for an answer. The women behind her giggled as she playfully snatched Jack's hat off of her head and perched it on her own. She rested her hands on her hips, looking him up and down and regarding him for a moment. Her eyes lingered on the bulge in Jack's trousers and she grinned.

"She cannot blame you for what the body wants," the woman said smoothly. "You do not have to love us to make love to us, which is clearly what you desire. And you are saving an entire people, and a goddess." Kirianey reached around to untie her top, letting it fall to the floor before sneaking her skirt down over her hips and letting that fall, too so that she stood before Jack wearing only his hat.

Her dark skin was smooth with no traces of body hair and her breasts were large and round. Stepping forward, Kirianey took Jack's hands in her own and slid them up her body before letting them rest on her soft breasts over her peaked, dark nipples. She smiled and leaned in to kiss him, tempting him further with her body. He was a sailor, and she was certain it had been a very long time since he'd seen his wife.

~*~

Jenny's legs shook as the ugly man's men aimed their own pistols at her father seemingly from all sides. She felt sick when he winked at her and her face went red with indignation and embarrassment when he eyed her, clearly undressing her. Mrs. Sparrow swallowed hard, but didn't give any sort of indication of her intentions about warning off her husband. Jack would definitely hear about it, but she wasn't letting him know that. She wasn't to be bent to his will. The ugly man was almost gone when Ben rushed him head on. Jenny thought perhaps he'd stood a chance when the ugly man staggered...but then he was on the floor.

"Stop it! Leave him alone!" Jenny shouted, but didn't move. She couldn't. Instead Peter--who had stepped out of the kitchens to see what the noise was about then had gone on to break up the fights--rushed forward and helped Ben up into a chair. Jenny's legs finally gave out and she sank into a chair, hiding her hands in her face.

"Alright, lass?" Michael knelt down next to her, putting away his pistol before gently pulling her hands away from her face. Jenny nodded but was still shaking. "What was that about?"

"I...I don't know," she said quietly, "Something about John...and the Brethren Court, whatever that is. And he said...he said John killed someone, when he was on that awful pirate ship." Jenny's eyes shone with tears, both from the shock and at the idea that her husband could ever hurt anyone. Then her eyes focused on the room behind Michael and she sighed. "Oh Papa I'm so sorry. You can take it outta my wages, all the damages. It's my fault."

"Nonsense," Michael said firmly. "Obviously he got the wrong John. Killin' folk, courts, pirating...I wouldna let a man like that come n'where near you. Now go home, girl."

"But Papa--"

"No buts. Peter can help me out front. Yer shook enough as is. Now go home, have a bit of a lie-down. Ma'll look after the kids 'n bring 'em home in a few hours."

Jenny smiled shakily and hugged her father tightly. When her legs had stopped shaking, she stood and gingerly picked her way over to Ben Halliwell. "Thank you for that, Ben," she said quietly. "Meant a lot to me. I um...When you're ready, would you mind walking me home? I'm...I'm afraid those men might be waiting for me. I'd feel a lot safer."
 
Jack's eyes went wide, and he felt himself grow even harder as Kirianey put his hands on her breasts and then kissed him. And, for a moment, he was lost in the sensations. He even began to respond, starting to gently lift and squeeze the woman's heavy breasts and...

He jumped away from Kirianey, shaking. "NO!" he shouted, then shook his head. "No... I mean, I'm sorry. And I'm honored, really. But, I can't." He stepped back as she moved forward, shaking his head. "I mean it. No."

Biting his lip, he waved towards the door. "Thank you all. Really. But I'm asking you to give me my hat back, and leave. 'Cause if you don't, then I'm climbing out that window and finding somewhere else to sleep." Another step backwards. "Alone, thank you much."


Ben groaned a little, holding an empty pewter tankard to his face. The cool metal helped, a little. What had he been thinking? He was an apothecary, not a fighter. And then he'd rushed that... that pirate, and gotten the crap kicked out of him for his troubles.

Cautiously, he breathed in. Everything hurt, but there was none of the stabbing pain that would have indicated a cracked or broken rib. Thank Heaven for small favors.

Footsteps, and then a soft voice. "Thank you for that, Ben."

Oh, yes. That was why he'd done it. Jenny.

"Meant a lot to me. I um...When you're ready, would you mind walking me home?"

Had she just said that?

"I'm...I'm afraid those men might be waiting for me. I'd feel a lot safer."

"Of... of course, Ms. Sparrow. Jenny." Damnit, he was making a fool of himself. "It would be my priviledge." Wobbling a little, he stood up. "If you're ready, then, there's no time like the present."
 
Kirianey pouted. She had no doubt Jack would climb out the window...but it was a sheer drop five stories to the stone cobbled streets below. Sighing, she removed his hat and replaced her clothes. With a final look at him, she leaned in closely.

"If you ever change your mind...just call for us," she purred, placing a slow kiss on his throat before leaving. The other girls followed after, looking disappointed that they had missed their opportunity to please a hero and savior. The door shut with a final-sounding thud, leaving Jack quite alone.

~*~

Jenny smiled weakly when Ben wobbled to his feet. "I think it's when you're ready," she corrected. "I didn't just get my arse handed to me. I mean..." She pinkened a little, ashamed of having embarrassed him. "Well ah...let's go."

The walk to the Nest was slow-going, but Jenny didn't mind too terribly. She was still badly shaken and Ben seemed in quite a good amount of pain. It was awful, she felt, that he'd taken a beating for her. She was quiet most of the way home, trying to sort through her emotions. She was scared and confused, obviously, about the entire affair. She was also surprised to find that she was angry, mostly with John. What was he doing out there on the seas, and why had he put his family in danger like this? It wasn't fair to any of them, having to deal with his mistakes here at home while he was off gallivanting about the new world or whatever it was he was doing. And at that Jenny felt her old worry come back. Mrs. Sparrow had found that she had much less energy if she thought about what he was actually doing out there and what dangers he faced, and so most of the time she managed not to think much about it rather than constantly worrying. Laying alone in bed at night, however, it was hard not to.

With the worry came the soul-crushing loneliness. Jenny's heart sank into the pit of her stomach as it all washed over her and she gulped several times, trying to stay the tears until she was in her home out of Ben's company. Finally they reached her front door and she faced him, still fighting the tears.

"Thank you, Ben," she said softly, her voice shaking slightly. "For everything, I mean. I appreciate it you know." Jenny shifted her weight, not wanting to just abruptly go inside and leave him standing on the doorstep but desperately wanting to so she could let everything go.
 
Jack leaned heavily against the door for a long moment, listening to the thudding of his heart and trying to ignore just how steel-hard his cock felt. He knew he'd done the right thing, knew it. But it had been a far nearer thing than he liked to admit.

After a moment, he turned and stared at the door. Then, with a loud click-chunk, he shot the bolt. Then, considering how tempting and how dedicated the ladies had been, he wedged a chair under the handle. For a moment more he considered dragging a table over as well, or perhaps the wardrobe. But that would be taking caution to an extreme.

Crossing the room, he tugged off his boots and threw himself down on the bed. It was almost sinfully soft, that bed. And huge. Nearly as large as his cabin, it seemed. Plenty of room for... No, no. Stop that, Jack. Not helping. Not in the slightest. Don't think about the ladies. Think about Jenny. Ah, yeah. That helped. He could almost see her, her smile and her wavy red hair and her dancing green eyes. The freckles on her cheeks that dusted her neck and her breasts, where her dress exposed just a hint of cleavage...

He groaned at the thought, and at the thought which followed close on its heels - tearing the dress from her to expose those magnificent breasts, tasting and touching them as she moaned and pushed herself against him. "Oh god..." he moaned to himself, hand slipping down inside his breeches to wrap around his hot, hard cock. He began stroking lightly, imagining her weight pushing his hips down into the soft mattress as he pulled her atop him. "God, Jenny..." he sighed. "Fuck me..."


Ben started to reach out, feeling the urge to take Jenny in his arms as he saw the expression on her face. "I... you're welcome," he said, lamely. Then he looked around. "Uhm... I should probably... probably... go."

He started to turn, then hesitated and looked back at her. "If... if there's anything I can do... just..." He bit his lip. "Just let me know, all right? And... be sure to lock your door."

With that he turned and headed back down the path, trying not to limp obviously. Despite how sore his ribs and back and legs were, he was grinning. I think she likes me, he thought. That's a start, right?
 
Jack was left to his own devices for the evening, what there was of an evening. The sun never set but instead skirted the horizon in what appeared to be an hours-long sunset before wheeling back up into the sky. Were he to pull the curtains closed, the room would be plunged in blackness, enabling him to sleep peacefully. In what was comparable to morning, a servant tried the door but found it bolted and barricaded. Scowling, he pounded several times on the door with the flat of his fist.

"Captain Jack Sparrow?" he called through the door.

~*~

Ben started to leave, but then turned and offered to help if there was anything he could do. Jenny nodded, gulping back more tears, and hugged him briefly.

"Th-thank you, Ben," she stammered, a tear escaping down her cheek. Thankfully he turned and left and as soon as he was a few feet from the cottage Jenny disappeared inside.

The Nest didn't have a lock on any of the doors or windows. There had never been a need before; they had always been safe, or at least felt that way. Instead Jenny pushed a heavy chair--John's chair, when he was home--against the door and double- and triple-checked to make sure all of the windows were shut, especially in the children's rooms. Then she cried. Mrs. Sparrow sat on the sofa in the sitting room and cried until it felt like she might not have anymore tears left. Without even meaning to, she fell asleep on the couch. When she woke in the morning Jenny looked around the house in a panic, realizing that the children had never come home from their grandparents' house, and was nearly out the door when she spotted a slip of paper that had been slipped underneath it. One of the more learned sailors had been kind enough to write a note for Michael explaining that the kids had stayed there for the night as they had figured she might need some time to herself. Jenny breathed easier and thanked God for kind and understanding parents.

Before going to work, Jenny wrote two letters. The first was to Captain Teague, asking him to deliver a note personally to his son as she thought he might be the only one able to find him. (Fortunately Captain Teague had been only twenty miles up the coast and arrived the next day.) The second was to John, written quickly in a shaky hand.

John,

I don't know where you've gone or what you're doing, but you must come home immediately. This isn't a request. Some men came into the pub last night and threatened us--the children, me, my parents, all of us--because you'd done something to anger someone called the 'Brethren Court.' I don't know whether you regret marrying so young before seeing the world properly, but I'll not have our children put in danger for your wanderlust. I'm sending this with Captain Teague as I trust him most to find you and will be awaiting either your return or his; your choice. Come home, John. Immediately.

Love,
Jenny

"I've an idea where he is, lass," Captain Teague said with a nod of his head as he pocketed the letter. "Might take a coupla weeks ta get there, but I'll drag 'im home don't you worry." He winked and his leather face cracked enough to allow a small smile. Jenny smiled back.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

She seemed to catch him off-guard when she hugged him, but eventually he hugged gently back before doffing his hat and turning back to his ship. They had agreed not to meet where the children might find him and get their hopes up that he'd be staying. As Jenny watched the ship sail off, she thought perhaps she had worded it a bit harshly...after all, she had been very angry when she'd written it. But she'd signed it with love, she reasoned, and she needed to impress the importance of his return upon him.
 
Jack awoke to a pounding on his door. "Captain Jack Sparrow?" a voice called.

"Hang on, hang on!" he called back, trying to determine what time it was from the sunlight streaming through the window. It took a moment to recall that he was above the Arctic Circle, and that the sun would barely set at this time of year. Shaking his head, he staggered out of bed and peered at himself in a mirror. God, but he was looking scruffy. His hair was getting long and matted, his eyes were still stained black with kohl, and he had his scraggly beard growing again.

More pounding. "Captain?"

"I said I'm coming! Hang on!" Jack wobbled and swayed over to the door and pulled the chair away, then shot the bolt. Pulling it open, he peered at the tallish servant. "Yeah? Whaddya want, mate?"
 
The servant seemed a bit surprised, but not at all intimidated as Jack demanded to know what he wanted. He folded his arms over his chest impressively and peered down at the man. This was their savior?

"It is time," he said in his deep, slow voice. "You will eat, then a guide will take you to the pyramid where Calypso lies."

Down many stairs and hallways, Jack was led into a banquet hall. There was set out a long table laden with food of all sorts. Nearest to John were platters of fruits and pastries while down the table were meats, breads, and drinks. It was a spread enough for twelve people, but Jack was the only one in the room. Wordlessly the servant backed out of the banquet hall and closed the doors with a final-sounding thud, leaving Jack completely alone with the food.
 
Jack swaggered along behind the huge blonde man, trying not to let his discomfort show. It was not, after all, a common event in his life to be marched out to rescue a bloody goddess from a bloody pyramid in the middle of the bloody Arctic. And pay no attention to the fact that he'd had no bloody choice but to land here. These 'pirate kings' were probably still threaten his family.

Fair enough. But let them harm one hair on the heads of Jenny or the kids, and he'd hunt all of them down.

Their destination proved to be a banquet room, with a long table spread with foods and drinks enough for an army. Well, a small army. Lots of people, anywya. His stomach growled and rumbled, and he decided to make the most of it. Swaggering down, he scooped up a flagon of wine and began loading a plate with biiled eggs and with fruit. "So, mate," he asked, stuffing a grape into his mouth, "is this symbolic of something?"

The door was already closed.

"Guess it doesn't matter," he decided, swallowing th elast of hie fruit. "May as well tuck in."
 
Jack was free to eat as much as he wanted, but when he was done a servant was sent promptly in to fetch him. He was led down the stairs to the city proper where what appeared to be an impromptu parade met him. Citizens lined the streets, cheering and waving, throwing flowers and beads. Several women laid Jack with necklaces and garlands while stuffing his hands full of strange fruits and a few children even hugged him around the middle.

Once they were away from the main thoroughfare and the ruckus died down, the servant led Jack through the quiet side streets to the outside of town. Through the fields and across a bridge over a rushing river to an enormous white pyramid. It seemed to be made of a bright marble, but smoother. The servant looked down at Jack before gesturing toward a bit of marble that looked a bit different from the others. It was likely a door.

"Calypso waits," he said in his slow, deep voice.
 
The cheering crowds were a bit unnerving at first, but Jack took to it quickly enough. Soon he was swaggering down the street, his rolling seaman's gait adding to the exaggerated quality of his motions. He waved back, accepting the accolades and gifts as his due, and smiled a lot. The fruit he tucked into his sash for later use, just in case.

And all the while the pyramid loomed closer and closer. Jack scowled at the sight. He'd had enough of the bloody things in Egypt. It didn't seem right, them being this far north as well. Were these blonde giants related to the swarthy men of the Nile? It seemed preposterous, but yet the pyramid was right there.

Right in front of him, actually. He stared at the door, smooth-polished until it could nearly serve as a mirror. Jack considered it for a moment, then glanced over and up at his guide. "And...?" he prompted.

"Calypso waits," he said in his slow, deep voice.

"Right. Got that, actually. See, what I'm wondering now is - to be perfectly honest, which I strive to be at all times - how the bloody hell do I actually get to her? Because, and you have to understand a few things mate, I'm not a hero. And this goddess-rescuing business is for heroes. They'd know how to open this door. Hells, they'd know three or four ways. Me, all I can do is push," deeds followed words, "and what good is that I ask you?"

The marble slab pivoted easily, opening into a passageway that was lit by white-glowing stones. "Well. Can't say I expected that."


Davy Jones gripped the wheel of the Flying Dutchman as the ship shuddered violently, caught in the grip of an unexpected and unknown current. "The fool," he growled. "He's endangered all of the Brethren." Turning his unhuman eyes north, he ignored the scurrying of the doomed and the damned that crewed his ship. "Well. If Teague won't tame the boy, I suppose I'll have to."

Music welled up from the crew, and it took Jones a few minutes to identify the tune. When he did, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Belay that!" he thundered. "Hoist the mains'l and bring us about to run afore th' wind! We've an appointment in Hyperborea!"


Receiving no further hints, Jack stepped into the passage. "Any hints?" he called back.

"Try not to die."

"You must be great at parties." Glancing at the corridor snaking off tho the left and the stairs going up, Jack started up the stairs.
 
The servant shrugged when Jack asked how to get to Calypso. "There are servants of the Brethren in there," he said simply. "We leave food here and I suppose they bring it to her since it is gone at the next mealtime." But further explanation wasn't really needed. The servant couldn't help but smile when the door slid open and Jack declared that he hadn't expected it to be that easy. "Getting in is the easy part. It's getting back out you should worry about." He handed Jack the unlit torch he'd held loosely on their way here before lighting it and indicating that the captain ought to go. He watched the foreigner step a few yards down the passageway.

"Any hints?" he called back.

"Try not to die."

"You must be great at parties." As Jack started up the stairs the servant merely smiled and slid the door closed behind him.

Jack climbed the stairs in pitch black, the only light coming from his torch. It was a longer flight of stairs than any he'd climbed in his entire life and felt like it must go to the very top of the pyramid, though in reality it didn't even cover a quarter of the height. Finally the steps ended and leveled out into a passage. Jack could make out two paths again, though neither one led to more stairs as far as he could tell. Were he to take the left fork he would find himself at a dead end after twenty or so minutes; that only left the right fork. He walked for another twenty or thirty minutes in complete silence, with even his footsteps muffled in the oppressive silence and dark. Then he heard it before he saw it: there was a glint of brass that quickly retreated and a mechanical-sounding clicking noise. A soft snort as of some sort of beast.

"Go no further," said a deep voice from the darkness, its owner unseen. "Turn back now and leave alive and in one peace."

~*~

The Troubadour was farther north than she'd ever been, though still not north enough. Captain Teague reckoned they were on the same latitude as middle Norway or so and it was colder than a witch's tit. He had relieved the helmsman for his supper and stared out at the vastness of the northern oceans. The wind stirred, causing the captain to shiver as he looked up to the sails. His eyes narrowed as he turned the wheel.

"Oh no you don't you sonuvabitch," Teague growled. "Not my boy."
 
With no better ideas in mind, Jack decided to try something that he'd read about once. The way to solve a maze, it had claimed, was to put your left hand on a wall and keep following that wall. Eventually, you'd find your way through. And so, he found himself walking up stairs and down. He kept his footsteps quiet, feeling oddly uncomfortable at the idea of making noise in this forbidding structure.

What was that?

Jack waved his torch in front of him, uncertain if he'd really seen the glint of light on gold-red metal or really heard the whirring click. But then a voice echoed out of the darkness. "Go no further. Turn back now and leave alive and in one peace."

"Can't do that, I'm afraid," Jack called back, making himself sound more confident than he felt. "I've secured the safety of my crew with the promise that I'd bring a Miss Calypso out of here." He peered into the darkness, trying to see the speaker. "Maybe we can talk about this like civilized men, though? Parley, perhaps?"
 
A deep, rumbling laugh rolled out of the darkness toward Jack. A hulking, monstrous body stepped into the light of his torch, the attached living bull's head grimacing sinisterly. It was quite clear he didn't intend to talk things out "like civilized men." He tilted his chin to look down at Jack, several feet shorter than him, and tilted his head slightly to look him in the eye.

"You will never reach Calypso," he rumbled. "Many have tried. All have failed. I will offer once again: turn back now to leave in one piece, or face me in combat to the death." The leather wrapping his axe creaked as he tightened his grip, waiting for Jack's answer.
 
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