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The Only Rules That Matter (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

The first impression of the camp was music, a slow, sweet song tinged with sadness, but which sped up and became joyful as one listened. The second, as they small group drew closer, was of apparent chaos. There were a dozen carts drawn into a circle around central fires, on which pots bubbled and simmered. Men and women dressed in wild, colorful clothing circulated, tending the pots or to chores or simply practicing their arts. Violins and guitars and flutes were out, while some worked at fixing leather goods or metal pots. And all through the camp ran children of both sexes and all ages, half-naked and shrieking with laughter. Several looked curiously when Jenny and her family came into view, but the faintly hostile glances turned friendly when they saw Ion. Many people called welcome to him, and several waved.

"My home," Ion said proudly, gesturing around. "My home, and my family. Be welcome, Jenny Sparrow." He flashed her a grin. "You fear you're an outcast? Well, then, you're in good company here. So, for tonight, consider them your family too."

Jack stared around in shock and wonder, then laughed as three boys around his own age ran up. "Hi!" one said. "You and your sister wanna play?"

Anne looked crestfallen. "I... really can't..."

The second boy scoffed. "Sure you can. You've got that neat cart! We can play caravan!"

Anne stared in shock, then looked up at her mother with big eyes. "Can I? Please?" Jack joined in, tugging at her skirts. "Me too, mom! I'll watch her, I promise!"
 
Jenny's eyes widened as they came to the clearing. The gypsies had set up camp in the meadow off of the main road into town about a mile away from the rocky beach. The breeze brought with it the smell of the ocean and rustled the tall grasses as they walked through the grass and wildflowers, and as the gypsies came into view Jenny's first reaction was to be intimidated. The gathering was large and loud and entirely unlike her own family. At least, her nuclear family. She had vague memories of family gatherings in Ireland that were somewhat like this, though she had always played outside with her cousins while the adults stayed inside getting loud and drunk. It was a little frightening...but also reminded her a bit of home. She grinned embarrassedly as people turned their attention to her and her children when they walked into camp.

Instantly the children seemed to be making a few friends. Jenny's grin turned warm and genuine when one of the little boys asked if he and Anne wanted to play. Nobody in town ever asked Anne to play and sometimes even tried to get rid of her. "Of course you can, darling," she insisted. Her heart broke at how amazed Anne was that someone would want to play with her. "Go on then. Jack keep an eye on her."

She watched with approval as Jack eagerly pushed Anne in her cart and ran off to play. Brigid and Lucy still held one hand each but there seemed to be a group of children around their age playing together, too. They were only a year younger than Anne, but that year seemed to keep them in a completely different age group. Jenny was just grateful that at nine Jack was still willing to be his sister's keeper without complaint.

"This is wonderful." Jenny had a hard time forcing her voice above a whisper. "No one's ever asked Anne to play like that. And...well, your family reminds me a bit of home."
 
"Families should remind you of home," Ion grinned. "Because the good ones, if they aren't yours, will still be families." He watched her watch her children scampering off, then nudged her with an elbow. "Come on. There's a dozen other moms in this camp, so they won't get into too much trouble. Let me introduce you around, while we go get something to eat."

They made their way through the gathering, moving as if in an intricate dance as Ion dodged and weaved to avoid crashing into people. Everyone received a smile and a wave or handshake or hug, and crossing the small space took more than ten minutes. Nearly everyone insisted on being introduced to Jenny as well, eyes alight with a sort of welcoming curiosity as they required it of the man. "My cousin Mihai - a tinker and a smith, if you need any metalwork done." "My sister, Talitha. Dancer and singer, and mother of two... no, three fine children." "My Aunt Viola. Unlike me, she actually has the sight. So, I make more money fortune-telling." "My brother Yanko. Drives the horses and runs from angry husbands. Watch out for him." And on and on.

Finally, they reached the fires and an old woman wrapped in a shawl. Ion threw his arms out wide and hugged her. "Mama!" the old woman whoofed at his grip, then hugged him back with slender, bony arms. "Ion, it's about time you returned! And... who is this?"

Disengaging, Ion gestured to Jenny. "This, mama, is Goodwife Jennifer Sparrow. Jenny, this is my grandmother - Esmerelda Vrabie, the matriarch of our extended family."

The old woman chewed on the stem of an old pipe, and stared at Jenny with dark eyes set in a seamed and wrinkled face. "And you've brought one of the townfolk to us why?"

Ion grinned. "She's the wife of..." he glanced around, making sure that none of the children were in earshot. "Of the notorious pirate Captain Jack Sparrow." His grin grew broader. "I thought you might have something in..."

Esmerelda laughed, a wheezing cackling sound that pierced the night. "Sit down, sit down," she said, patting a stool next to her. "The Crown hanged my Ferka as a highwayman and horse thief back in '62, they did, so mayhap I'll be an understanding ear." Her grin was as electric as Ion's, and revealed a mouth still full of strong, white teeth. "Sit down, and tell me about your Jack, dear. And Ion'll fetch us both sommat to eat and drink while we talk."
 
The twins toddled off to join a group of children their own age who seemed to be playing some sort of make-believe in the tall grasses. The gathering was positively dizzying to Jenny as the weaved through the noisy crowd. Everyone smiled and pulled her into some sort of embrace as she was introduced and Jenny quickly lost track of the names. Well, there was only one of her and what seemed like a hundred of them, so certainly they'd forgive her if she had to be reminded once or twice. The aunt who Ion claimed had "the sight" caught her interest momentarily; after all, knowing whether John was ever coming home could prepare her for the worst or give her hope. But she quickly dismissed it as witchcraft and made a note to pray for Ion's family. Still it made no sense that Ion should make more pretending at telling fortunes than someone who might actually be able to see it.

They came to the fires and Ion greeted his mother enthusiastically. Jenny felt almost like a girl meeting the family of a man courting her, being introduced to his mother and everything. It was difficult not to see it that way, given the obvious interest Ion had in her. She flushed and looked down when Esmeralda demanded to know why Ion had brought her here. It was a valid concern. She supposed the townsfolk in any place they visited looked on them with suspicion and fear. Jenny herself had heard stories that gypsies were all thieves and witches but had always chosen to believe the best of people. After all, she was here of her own free will and saw no evidence of stolen goods or devilry, and she was certain if they stole as much as everyone said they did they would live in much better style than this.

"Notorious?" Jenny was aghast when Ion told his mother who her husband was. How could he be notorious if she'd only just heard about it?

But instead of being horrified as Jenny was, Esmeralda burst into wheezing laughter and invited her to sit. She did as she was bade and adopted a somber expression when she shared that her husband had been hanged years ago. "I'm sorry, about Ferka," she murmured. Ion went to fetch food and drink as Esmeralda asked to hear about Jenny's own husband.

"Well, that's just the thing, isn't it?" she started. "My son's name is Jack, my husband is John. Or, at least, he was. I...I dunno what happened. He's a good man, a good Christian, and he had a respectable job with the company to put food on the table and pay Anne's doctors. Anne, she's my second eldest. She ah...she's very sick; it's left her crippled and she's already lived much longer than the doctors said she would. She's four..." Jenny's voice cracked, but she blinked hard and cleared her throat, shaking her head a little. "Anyway, he knows we go hungry without him, and the Company demanded back his pay and he hasn't sent anything or even written for almost six months. He was a sailor, a captain, and I don't know what happened, why he'd turn pirate and leave us to starve. And...and how can he be notorious? I only just found out for certain he'd gone pirate this morning." Each iteration of "pirate" was spat out like a dirty word and she became visibly more distraught as she kept talking.
 
"Oh, you poor dear," Esmerelda murmured, patting Jenny's hand. "It's a hard thing, isn't it, when your man's on the run?" She sucked thoughtfully at her pipe, then used it to point after Ion. "His pa was born while Ferka was hiding in another county, an' he ne'er lived ta see the boy married." She sucked at the pipe again, blowing clouds of blue smoke from her nostrils.

"But he was a good man, my Ferka was. Always did right by us, even if he couldn't be with us much as he'd have liked. Never killed nobody neither, cept those few as tried ta kill him first. But it's still hard, innit? The waitin', an' not knowin'." Sbe patted Jenny's hand again. "I wager he'll come, your Cap'n Jack. Not to stay, but he'll come. An' th' joy o' it'll outweigh th' sorrow o' bein' apart." She cackled a little. "You mark my words, girl, an' see if'n it ain't so."
 
Jenny knew Esmerelda meant well, and that she was trying to help...but really she was making things so much worse. Horrible thoughts flashed through Jenny's head, of having to watch John leave, of never knowing when he was coming back, of the children growing up without a father. He could even die out there and she'd never even know! Tears welled up in her eyes and she shook her head, holding up a hand as though to ward off the evil misgivings.

"Stop, please," she pleaded, shaking her head again. "I can't...I don't...I'm sure Ferka was a good man." Jenny didn't want to insult her hosts by implying Ion's grandfather was anything but honorable. "But...we need John. We need him home. The children need a father, and any day--literally any day--Anne could..." She stopped herself and put a hand over her mouth, hot tears rolling down her cheeks. "She can't die while he's gone...she'd be devastated...it'd break him..." Her voice was barely above a whisper and instead of looking at Esmerelda she chose instead to stare into the fire, ashamed of her emotional outburst.

"I'm sorry," Jenny said after finally composing herself. She sniffed and wiped away the tears. "Here you've accepted me into your home, offered me your food and drink, and I go mucking it up blubbering like some useless female." She laughed shortly at herself, still wiping at her eyes. "I'm afraid I haven't been a very good guest, have I?" Taking a deep breath, Jenny tried to approach the topic a bit more clinically. "My older brother, Sean, he's a barrister. Surely he can get John cleared of whatever silly charges they've put on him. Or, I mean, if nothing else I'll take the children and we'll go with him to the colonies in America or in the Indies, or India; somewhere no one knows us. I've got family in Barbados, or so I'm told." She chewed briefly on her lower lip. "I dunno if you've ever been to Ireland, but ah...fifty years back or so Cromwell decided to sell off a bunch of Irish as slaves. My granddad and a few of my cousins were caught and shipped off to Barbados, so I mean, maybe the ones still left have gotten their freedom by now. Or we could go there and buy their freedom. Anyway my point is we've got options, if Sean can't get him cleared. They're not good options, but I won't let my child be fatherless." Jenny got a stubborn look to her and set her jaw. "I won't let my John turn into his father."
 
"Sometimes you don't have good choices," Esmerelda nodded. "But you've still got choices. And that's better than nothing." She sucked thoughtfully at her pipe, then patted Jenny on the knee. "And don't you fret about telling me your woes, Jenny Sparrow. I'm a good listener, I am." Grinning she extracted her pipe and tapped the ashes from the bowl into the fire. "I'm a good listener, I am."

She began packing more tobacco into the pipe. "Listened to the wind, and heard tell of a John Sparrow who courted the wrath of ancient gods of the desert, I did. Listened to the sea, and heard tell of Jack Sparrow defying the Brethern Court and Calypso." A dark chuckle. "Listened to me own sister, too, when she told tell of a Jack Sparrow who'd stolen a little old book and evaded a certain Horseman..."

Poking a twig into the flame, she puffed the pipe alight. "I'm alays willing to listen to a good Jack story, I am."
 
Jenny frowned slightly when Esmerelda began talking about stories she'd heard of Jack Sparrow. It was chilling, how she seemed to know where he'd been and that he'd stolen a book. But gods of the desert? Calypso? They were myths, stories, that was all. She tilted her head.

"Heathen gods...they don't exist," she said slowly. "But my John's been to the desert, and the Brethren Court sent some thugs after us because he defied them. And that book...years ago..." Jenny frowned and shook her head. "That's impossible. We both swore never to talk about that book to anyone. What sort of witchcraft do you and your sister ply?" She was all at once frightened and intensely curious. Surely it was just a charlatan's trick, certainly they couldn't really have magic that would tell them...but how could she possibly know? "Why him? Why my husband? What's he to you?"
 
"Oh, I ply no witchcraft Jenny Sparrow." Esnerelda tapped her head. "I just have the knowing of a few things. Twas me sister what took up witchin', a good many years back now. An' little enough joy she's had o' it, especially since she crossed paths with your Jack."

The next question made her laugh. "An' he's nothing to me, lass - it's been a few years since I was seducin' handsome lads away from their lasses." She struck a coquettish pose, then laughed again. "An'ye've nowt ta fear vrom me sister, not on that front leastwise. You an' me an' her coulda passed fer sisters, least I coulda when i was young - but ye've nowt ta fear from her, neither. Not on that front, anyhow. She tells it a might different, but it's plain from the tellin' that he's only got eyes fer one red-headed lass..."

She cackled at that, ruffling Jenny's curls. Then, looking up, her eyes seemed to light up. "An' look. Here comes our Ian, with the food we asked for."
 
Jenny's eyes widened. "Your sister was that witch?" She scowled. "She tried to make him sell his soul. She almost got him killed! Well, we burned that book and dumped the ashes in the harbor and I'm glad of it. And I'm sorry but if your sister and I ever cross paths I'll have so much more than a few choice words for her...!" Esmerelda was kind enough and Jenny knew quite well that siblings weren't always necessarily alike. But to be related to that sort of heathen...! Well, she couldn't imagine.

But Ion's grandmother joked about luring young men away from their wives and sweethearts before telling her that it had been clear that John only ever had eyes for her. Jenny couldn't help but flush a little and smile as her hair was tousled. Sometimes it was difficult to believe that John still cared for her, was still in love with her, but then she heard things like this from perfect strangers and her faith was bolstered again. Ion returned with food and drink and Jenny took it eagerly, thanking him with a smile.

"This is better than we've eaten in months," she admitted before swallowing a mouthful of venison. "Jack--my son Jack--catches rabbits and birds for us sometimes, but it's been a lot of porridge and vegetable stew. We don't really have much money for meat anymore."
 
"It's good, aye," Esmerelda agreed, spooning up some of her own stew. "A bit o' everything, really. We calls it poaching stew, we do."

Ion, who'd given up looking for a third stool and was now just sitting cross-legged on the dirt, laughed at that. "Take no notice, Jenny, take no notice. Why, I wager that more than half of it was earned fair and legal." He grinned around the stew. "Most of it, even."

Esmerelda cackled. "Mind your tongue, boy. You'll have her thinking we stoop to thieving and lawbreaking. And you know what I says about that."

"Yes, Mama Esme, I do." Ion made himself the very soul of abashed studiiusness. "'Why steal what someone'll give you for free?'"

"Damn right, boy!" she cackled again. "And a pity it was your grandpa never learned that lesson." She gave Jenny a sidelong glance. "And don't look at us like that, girl. We're performers, we are. Songs and dancing."

"Magic and fortunetelling," Ion added, making a complicared pass and handing Jenny a posey that had seemed to appear in his hand. "We tell people about love and goid fortune, and they want to hear it."

Esmerelda agreed. "Truth of it is, those of us with the true Sight are the worst at it. Most don't really want to know what the future holds."

Ion, having finished his stew, was swabbing up the broth with a crusty chunk of bread. "Still, if you like, maybe Aunt Viola could tell you something about your Captain Jack?"
 
Jenny shook her head and shrugged when Ion insisted that most things in this "poaching stew" were earned fair and square. "I've no love of the English crown," she admitted bluntly. "They sold my family into slavery and drove me from my home. Not that I'd take that part back, mind, or I'd never have met my John, but what cares have I if you poach on the King's land? Stay out of mine and my neighbor's gardens and I'll raise no fuss at all." As a child Jenny had often wondered why they'd come to the very country to live under the King who'd taken their land from them, but Michael had always explained that the closer they were to danger, the farther they were from harm; the King would be looking for the Irish in Ireland, not under his very nose. Secretly she wondered if sometimes he and her brothers ever got up to something that might be considered treasonous, but they said nothing so she said nothing.

But Esmerelda also had a point about never stealing what someone would give you for free. It made perfect sense, really. She took the proffered flower with a smile and tucked it into her thick curls. "That sort of magic anyone can do," she pointed out. "Me own Da can pull coins from peoples' ears, or so he says." But Jenny nodded in agreement when Ion's grandmother pointed out that most people didn't really want to know what their future held: they wanted to hear that they would fall in love and become stupendously wealthy and famous, and really Jenny couldn't blame them. She, however, had always been somewhat more pragmatic about that sort of thing and had counted herself fortunate to have married a good man with ambition, even if they'd never be rich.

"I'd like that," she said when Ion offered his Aunt to read for her. "I have no illusions about my future. My husband is a pirate, my daughter is going to die, and chances are I'll never be rich since I won't allow John to make us wealthy off of ill-gotten gains from honest men. What have I to lose?" Jenny finished up her stew and her bread before half-draining her mug in one go. Temperance was a virtue Jenny held dear after watching men drink away their lives, but having spent half her life as a bar maid she had certainly learned to hold her ale.
 
Ion rose to his feet, offering Jenny his hand. "Well, then. Shall we?"

"One moment," Esmerelda interrupted. "What have you to lose?" A shrug. "Hope. Glimpses of the future - true Sight - will come true."

"Mama..." Ion sighed, rolling his eyes. "You're going to..."

"I'm going to tell her the truth, young Ion. And you'll mind your manners and not interrupt me." She fixed Jenny with a level stare, her expression suddenly fierce. "The Sight isn't a game, Jenny Sparrow. It's a peek into the other world, it is. A glimpse of the mind of God, as He sustains the world according to His will. If Viola can see something - if, let me stress - it will be. It may be vague, but it will happen. Do you really want to know, Jennifer Sparrow? Can you really bear the burden of knowing, of being unable to change what will be?"

She sucked at her pipe, lost in some inner memory. Then her focus returned to the present. "Well?"
 
Jenny leveled her gaze at Esmerelda as she warned her about going to her sister Viola. Her expression was just as fierce, to match Esmerelda's, but tears welled in her eyes again. She had treated the subject with lightheartedness but in all reality she was truly curious. She wanted to be prepared for what was ahead.

"Esmerelda..." It was clear she was forcing her voice to be calm, not from anger but out of her own pain. "It was God's will that my daughter would lose her ability to walk only months after she learned how to. It was God's will that my husband should lose his job on Christmas Eve...because of me. It was God's will that he would be gone or lost for months, sometimes a year or more at a time...and apparently it's God's will that he's turned pirate."

She wiped away a tear before looking hard into Esmerelda's eyes. "I've born the burden of God's will already, Esmerelda, and I still love Him as a Christian ought to. Despite everything that's happened to us, despite all the pain, despite knowing that my daughter is going to die before she's even grown, I love Him still and I'm prepared for when that day comes. Do you really think I treat God's will as a game?" She sniffed and wiped away another tear with the heel of her hand. "But a bit of warning for once would be nice, you know."

With that Jenny stood and looked at Ion expectantly.
 
"No, Jenny, I never once took you as one whi treats ought as a game. But, as yiu say, a little warning's nice." Esmerelda watched her intently fir a moment, then nodded. "Go on, then. Get yourself that warning. Then enjoy yourself, girl." She smiled. "You're too young to shoulder such burdens all day."

Ion led Jenny through the crowd, again acknowledging greetinds as he went. This time, the attention Jenny attracted was less intense. Mire curious. She'd been seen with Mama Esmerelda, after all, so she must be acceptabke. For an outsider.

Iin dodged as three children sstreaked in front of him, whooping and hollering. They were pushing Jenny and her cart, and she shrieked with glee. Close behind came Jack and a young girl with dark pigtails, waving sticks lije swords and giving chase.

"They seem to have fit right in," ion observed. Then he took ofv at a slight angle. "Viola! Aunt Viola!"

Aunt Viola proved to be a nearly picture-perfect image of the srereotypical gypsy woman. Dusky skin and black hair held back by a colorful kercheif. Bare feet beneath an ankle-length scarlet skirt, and a white blouse worn with a red and black vest. She was clearly older than Iin, but she wore that age well. And her clear relationship with Esmerelda could be seen easily in her face when she smiled. "Little Ion! How are you?"

He hugged her. "Well enough. And..."

Dark eyes glanced at Jenny. "Your young woman, I suppose?" she asked, voice teasing.
 
"Sorry about all this," Jenny said quietly as she walked with Ion through the crowd. "Getting all weepy and whatnot. It's horrid, I know...but it's nice to, y'know, have a friend again."

She pulled up short with a noise of surprise as children streaked by. She grinned as Anne laughed and shrieked the way children her age ought to. Anne had always been a quiet girl, but Jenny supposed that might be because there hadn't been many children who wanted to play with her. She took a step to start again but then came Jack and a girl around his age, chasing after them. Her smile turned knowing as she watched Jack run with the little girl. Girls were still yucky to him, but she'd noticed the gradual change in how he acted around them. That talk would have to come soon, but for now it was still just innocent playing and trying to figure out that funny feeling in his gut.

Aunt Viola was much more what Jenny had expected of the gypsy women, so she wasn't all that surprised. She stood back as family greeted family, but flushed darkly when Viola teased Ion about her. "Oh! No, ma'am I'm married." Her hands flapped uselessly as she went to show her her wedding ring before thinking better of it. "Not that Ion isn't...but I...no...I mean...those are my children." She motioned over to the ones that were hers before desperately turning for a change of subject. It might not have been so awkward if Ion weren't so attractive and charming. "I'm Jenny. Jenny Sparrow," she said, offering her hand.
 
"It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Jenny Sparrow," Viola said, taking her hand. "And my nephew is a charming man, so I hope - for his sake - that he'll curb his enthusiasms and settle down."

Ion rolled his eyes. "Not this again, Aunt Viola."

She chuckled. "With your own sainted mother gone, somebody has to lecture you on these matters. And who better than her older sister?" Her attention turned back to Jenny. "But enough about him... you, my dear, have the air of someone who needs assistance. Come, sit down on the step of my wagon."

The wagon was something like a small home on cartwheels. Thin, painted green with blue trim, and tall enough that a small woman could stand upright in it. A door was set into the back, just above the step. Viola made a production out of brushing some dirt from the step, then took a seat and invited Jenny to do likewise. "Now," she said without preamble. "What sort of assistance do you require. I'll tell you that I do sell a few potions and charms - to catch the eye of a special man, or to ensure or prevent pregnancy. But you're a friend of my nephews, so I'll also tell you that most of them are worthless. Weak, colored teas that do little more than lend some hope or confidence to the desperate and needy." She examined Jenny's features. "And you don't strike me as either. So, how may I help you?"
 
"It's no use," Jenny told Ion with a shrug and a grim smile. "They'll bother you about it until you give them grandchildren. My poor little brother only just stopped hearing it two years ago and now my Ma's on him for another one. I got lucky; married good 'n young and four babies--first one inside a year--so I've done my job." She chuckled and shook her head before sitting down on the step of Viola's wagon with her.

Jenny opened her mouth to say something about those potions to prevent pregnancies, but thought better of it when Viola promptly informed her that it was useless anyway. Those sorts of things were sinful and against the will of God. But she had also noticed that Viola had said something about selling and that was another matter entirely. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, looking over to Ion as though for help then looking back to Aunt Viola. She took a deep breath.

"My John...he's turned pirate. Captain Jack Sparrow, they call him, but...well...we haven't heard from him. No money or letters or anything since before Christmas." Jenny took a deep breath and bit on the inside of her bottom lip. "I need to know when he's coming home. If he's coming home. If we could join him in the Colonies or if Sean could get the charges dropped and he could stay here in Dover...I hate this never knowing. Some days I wake up expecting him to come walking up the road and other days I'm certain, dead certain, I'll never see him again and I just hate it so much!" But then she glanced at Ion again and something struck her. Had he just brought her here to dupe her into buying things from them? Things she couldn't afford?

No...nobody would possibly take advantage of a woman in her situation. Would they? "Now, before you say anything please know...I um...I thought this was as a favor or something." Jenny looked down and twisted her fingers in her lap. "I know it's stupid and if that's not what it is then please don't feel obliged. But I can't pay you anything. Feeding my children is far more important than any look into the future."
 
Viola glanced at Ion, who nodded once. "Mama Esme said it was all right."

She nodded gravely once, then took Jenny's hands. "I think you misunderstand," she said, voice kind. "I don't scry the future for money - my... gift, it is a terrible burden. I leave such games to people like my nephew, who lack that talent. But, if my mother sent you to me, then I will see what I may." She rose, opening the door of her wagon. "Come. Follow me."

The interior was cramped. Neatly organized, but full of possessions and furniture. Viola gestured to a seat by a small table, which she cleared off before rummaging through a chest at the foot of a narrow bed. "Those of us with the Sight," she said, spreadinfg a white cloth on the table, "use different tools to make use of it."

She set a candlestick on the cloth, and a brass bowl which she filled with water. Lighting the candle, she let five drops of ink splash into the water, turning it black. "Ask me your question again, Jenny Sparrow," she said, sitting across the table from her. "Ask, and I will answer."
 
Jenny sighed with relief, feeling a bit silly. She could imagine that seeing things no mortal was meant to see must be an awful burden; to know the future and to be unable to change it. She followed her inside and sat carefully, being sure not to knock anything over, and watched curiously as Viola set up her table.

"Will my John come home to us?" Jenny had to think over her questions carefully. She'd read stories of witches and heard stories of djinn and other sorts of wish-granting creatures that John and other sailors had brought back from far away lands. Wording could be everything. "When will I finally have my husband back, for good?"
 
Viola slumped back in her chair, eyes half-closed as she watched the reflected flame dance in the dark water. "I see... a ship. Black hulled. And a man at the wheel. He steers by a compass that guides him to his heart's desire. To his... his black pearl? Even now, he is sailing towards it."

Suddenly, her eyes went wide with horror. "God," she breathed, shaking at what her Sight revealed. "No... no..." The inky water shook and trembled, rippling as if something from deep within wererising to the surface. With a cry of horror she swept it from the table, splattering water and ink on the walls and floir and extinguishing it the candle with a hiss.

"He returns home," she said in a small, shaking voice. "But you will not have him back for good until after his death. And your daughter will outlive him."
 
Jenny couldn't help but smile when Viola said he was sailing towards his heart's desire, towards his black pearl. Towards her. He was on his way home! It didn't mean she'd be any less angry with him when he finally made it, but at least he was coming, he was trying. She fingered the black pearl around her neck and was quiet, eagerly awaiting what else Viola might tell her. If he was coming home then surely he must be able to stay home? To have a normal life with them?

But that didn't seem to be the case. Viola's eyes went wide and she sounded horrified by what she Saw. With a cry of surprise Jenny jumped back as the bowl crashed to the floor and the candle went out. She looked around in the dark for Viola, wondering what in the world could have been so terrible about John coming home.

"Viola...w-what...?"

"He returns home," she said in a small, shaking voice. "But you will not have him back for good until after his death."

"No...!"

"And your daughter will outlive him."

Jenny put a hand over her mouth. Though she was still seated her knees felt weak and her head started to spin. Anne would outlive John...and he would never in his lifetime be home for good. The world was falling out from under Jenny's feet and she had no handholds to keep herself from falling with it. Slowly she lowered her hand from her lips and stood, shaking.

"Thank you, Viola," she said weakly, moving toward the door. "I...I suppose it's some peace of mind. Not much, but some." Jenny clung to the side of the wagon as she stepped carefully down the steps and into the grass where she joined Ion. With a deep breath she ran her fingers through her thick curls before looking around. "I need a drink."
 
Ion sat outside the wagon, playing bird calls on a whistle he'd made frkom a blade of grass. Above him trees reached towards the vault of the heavens, a velvet cloth strewn with glittering precious stones. The crescent moon hung in the eastern sky, a skim curm like the blade of a Musselman's dagger.

The peace was shattered by the sound of the wagon door banging open. Jenny was ashen, shaken badly as she emerged and looked down at him. "I need a drink," she murmured, voice hollow.

He was on his feer in an instant, one hand out to steady her if she collapsed. "Bad news?" he asked, before shaking his head. "No, no, never mind. Forget I asked." He glanced back towards the fire. "We've a keg of ale over by the stew. Or if you've a need of something stronger, I've a quart of cider in my chest." He smiled slightly, watching her expressiin carefully. "Both are back that way, really. So if you're ready, we can head that way while you decide."
 
"Something stronger," Jenny said without hesitation, taking Ion's arm and starting back towards the fire. "Cider, whatever."

The music seemed entirely too cheerful now. No...Jenny was going to get back her evening. She had come here to have fun, dammit! And she was going to have fun regardless of when John was coming home. She downed the cider quickly and easily, then feeling somewhat fortified asked for another. It had been a while since she'd had more than one or two at a time, but she felt a need tonight. A need to forget her woes and just...loosen up, have fun, sing, dance, laugh. Now with her husband's death hanging over her head she needed a little more help than usual to get in a space where she could truly enjoy herself.

"I mean if he wants to gamble away his life then fine, bloody fine!" Jenny was on her fourth, the first two having gone quickly. The third she'd taken more slowly but now at the top of the fourth it was starting to go to her head. "But he's got children! He's got me! It's...it's bloody fucking selfish is what it is! I mean...is it that he doesn't love me anymore? Is that it? Because if that's it then he needs ta grow a pair an' say sommat about it!" Jenny's brogue was typically light, just enough to mark her as different from an English barmaid, though not enough to cause much more than a passing notice. But when she was upset or when she drank--or in this case both--her tongue loosened and she wouldn't have given any relative cause to worry that growing up in England had made her lose touch with her roots.

"I mean, I'm not thin like I used to be," she conceded with a shrug to Ion. "But I'm still pretty damned pretty! He's the one's changed, not me! Bloody pirate..." She took another deep drink from her mug.
 
"You are damned pretty," Ion agreed, topping Jenny's mug off and then his own. "And I doubt he's fool enough to toss you aside." The gypsy gave her a quick grin, then tossed back some of the contents of his own mug. "He had enough sense to marry you, didn't he? Doesn't sound like the act of a fool to me."

The cider was strong stuff, and while Ion wasn't a lightweight he was finding that his own fifth mug was going to his head a little. Wobbling, he rested the mug on a table and tried to reach for hers. "And you've had too drink to much," he said, groping in the air. "Too much to drink," he repeated, finally gripping it. "You should take it easy." The act of trying to take it from her turned into a playful tug of war, ending with him wearing half the remaining contents of the mug as it sloshed out over him. Laughing, he wiped the worst of it away. "I probably deserved that," he chuckled.

In the background, a drummer set a beat as a fiddler began sawing away. Still chuckling, he wrested the mug away and sat it down next to his. "Come on," he said, offering her his hand as he rose. "You need to clear your head. Dance?"
 
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