Pirates Of The Caribbean Fan Fiction ❯ Mirror, Mirror ❯ Breakthrough ( Chapter 9 )

Chapter 9

 

“I don't know, James. I have a very unsettling feeling about that man.”

James remained quiet for a moment over all that Ayse had told him. She didn't quite make it up early enough the previous night to talk with James, but she certainly was making up for it this morning.

“Now, Ayse, I really do think you are overreacting,” he assured her. “Are you certain he was being overly eager toward you?”

“Absolutely certain,” she responded, tying the sash of her wide brimmed hat under her chin. “I have never felt so ill at ease in my life. I won't say that he is an unkind man, but I will say that I don't feel comfortable with his advances toward me.”

“What will you do if your suspicions are proven true?” James asked.

Ayse sighed and collected her basket. “I don't know. Luckily, I have the option of saying no, so naturally, I'm going to try to get out of it.”

“You might hurt his feelings, Ayse, if he is as fond of you as you think he is.”

“It cannot be helped no matter how easily I turn him down, but there are plenty of other women in Port Royal. Surely he can select a more compatible mate from them - and one more suitable in age,” Ayse told him honestly. She stood up. “Besides, I'm probably just a fleeting fancy. He's desperate, that much I can tell, so it probably won't be as hard on him as you think.”

“I see you're wearing your hat,” James remarked. “Are you going into town?”

“Mmm…yes. Aunt Anne has asked me to fetch some pantry items from the marketplace.” She smiled. “I might even pick up a tart or two while I'm out.”

“Well, do be mindful of what streets you walk and of pickpockets,” James warned. “If I weren't contained in this blasted glass, I would be more than happy to escort you.”

“No doubt you would. Take care and I won't be gone long.”

Ayse left the comfort of her residence and ventured out into the main streets of Port Royal deep in thought. Last evening's dinner had left her terribly perturbed, and she hoped with every fiber of her being that Mr. Bradley had no such intention toward her and that he would go pester some other poor girl.

She came upon the bakery and opened the door as the enticing smell of bread loaves and sweet treats wafted into her nostrils, tantalizing her mouth. She glanced around at the goods the baker had to offer when a kind looking older woman came out to greet Ayse.

“Hello, Ayse,” she pleasantly said. “Has your Aunt sent you for some bread?”

“Good day to you, Martha. Yes, she has sent me for two loaves, if you please,” the young woman responded.

Martha Gillette was a charming woman who had the misfortune of losing her husband over the past year in a ship that was caught in a hurricane. After hearing James's story the other night, Ayse could only come to conclude that Andrew Gillette had been aboard that ill fated ship that left Martha widowed and their two children fatherless. Fortunately, Lieutenant Gillette had saved up a little pension and thus bequeathed it to his small family as requested in his final will and testament.

Unfortunately, the pension was not enough to sustain Martha and her family, so the kindly woman resorted to having to work in the bakery to help provide for her children while a servant watched them during the day. It was not easy for Martha, Ayse knew, but she remained as charming and upbeat as she ever was, despite the many things she had gone through recently.
Martha quickly wrapped Ayse's bread in paper and handed the loaves over the counter to her. “I hope your lovely aunt will enjoy this. It is the freshest loaves I have. Would you like anything else?”

Ayse smiled mischievously. “A sweet tart for me, please.”

“I knew you couldn't resist,” Martha laughed.

She handed her the tart, and Ayse bit into it. “Mmm…raspberry this time.” Ayse handed Martha a few coins. “Good day to you, Martha.”

Ayse made a stop by the bookstore and the dry goods store before returning home. She turned over the things she bought for Anne, but as she was returning to the upstairs, her Uncle Edmund called to her from the parlor.

“Ayse, a word with you, please?”

Ayse paused and confronted her uncle in the parlor. “Yes, Uncle Edmund?”

“Have a seat. There is something I would like to discuss with you, Ayse.”

Ayse sat down in a chair, spreading her blue gown beneath her as she did. “I'm listening. Is it about my father?”

“On the contrary, it concerns you.”

Ayse looked worried, but underneath the façade, she had a bad feeling about the topic of this conversation. “Have I done something offensive, Uncle Edmund?”

“Of course not.” He paused. “Ayse, I am certain you are aware that you are far over the coming of age to marry, are you not?”

“I am, but in my defense, I simply haven't found anyone that suits my fancy.”

“Aren't you afraid that you will be an old maid?”

“Not really,” Ayse responded. “If God has it in His will that I should marry, then I have full confidence that I shall meet my mate.”

“Perhaps you already have, my dear,” Edmund responded suggestively. “It seems that Mr. Bradley has taken quite the liking to you.”

“Has he now?” Ayse responded bitingly. “And, pray tell, what are his intentions toward me, then?”

Edmund shook his head. “Your father always said that you were sharp at reading people and a good judge of character. Therefore, I assume you've already figured it out and now you're simply waiting for confirmation. In that case, there is no need for hesitation: Mr. Bradley wishes for your hand in marriage.”

Ayse tried to hold back her scowl. “I knew it.”

“What do you think of that?”

“I think Mr. Bradley seems a kind and generous man, and I find no fault in his character as a person, however, he is far too advanced in age for me, and I think he would be better suited with someone who is closer to his years than I.”

“Yes, I realize there is a little bit of an age difference, but I am certain…”

“A little bit of an age difference?” Ayse interjected. “Uncle Edmund, he is old enough to be my father…or my grandfather even!”

Edmund calmly let Ayse's outburst pass and continued. “As I was saying, I realize there is an age difference, but I am certain that you will grow fond of him in time. Mr. Bradley is a very wealthy and generous man, and he has given his word that you will be well provided and cared for. I have arranged for a set of meetings with him so you two may get to know one another…”

“Uncle Edmund, I appreciate your wanting to set me up with a good home and a good man, but the fact of the matter is that it is my decision - a decision my father left to me alone.” She stood up. “Please tell Mr. Bradley that while his interest in me is flattering, I am afraid that I politely decline and that I wish him all the happiness in the world.”

Ayse left the room and started up the stairs, her uncle hot on her tail. “Now wait just a moment, here, young lady. You seriously need to rethink your decision! There are plenty of women your age in Port Royal who would give anything to be in your position!”

Ayse went into her room and tossed her hat onto the bed. “And there are plenty of women my age who get roped into such marriages that wind up unhappy, bored, and widowed. I have absolutely no intention of that happening to me.”

“But you would be left with a fortune plus the estate, and should you bear children…”

“The answer is no!” Ayse firmly said, raising her voice.

Edmund frowned and bit his lower lip. This girl, this offspring of his brother's, could be so damned infuriating sometimes, and he wondered how his brother ever put up with her insolence. She was undignified and inappropriate, and most of all, she was exasperatingly headstrong.

He stiffened. “Very well, Ayse. Then you've left me no choice but to make you comply.”

“I beg your pardon, but what right do you have?!” she spat angrily. “I'd sooner hang myself than be forced to marry against my will! How dare you even presume that you have the right to dictate my life when you are not my father! Make me comply my arse!”

The last remark earned Ayse a hard slap to the face, and she sat down on the cedar chest holding her burning cheek. Edmund's face was hard as a rock, and he towered over her with a rigid stare, clenched fists at his side.

“You will not speak to me like that,” he said dangerously. “You forget that I am doing you and my brother a favor by letting you stay here, you inconsiderate mongrel of a child.”

Ayse turned angry eyes up to her uncle, but she dared not say a word, lest she make it worse. She at least had sense enough to know when not to retaliate, despite the fact that her blood was boiling with anger and humiliation.

“I'll be sending word to your suitor that you will meet with him soon,” Edmund said dryly. “And you better be pleasant.”

He stalked out of the room with hands clasped behind his back, and as soon as Ayse was sure he was downstairs, she burst into tears and rubbed her stinging cheek.

James, who had watched the entire argument ensue, had his fists balled up in complete and total fury over what he'd just seen. How dare that man lay a hand on his dear friend like that! Just why her uncle would dare to force her to agree to do something she did not want to do was beyond him. Something seemed amiss here, but James didn't have time to speculate on that. He turned his attention to Ayse.

“Are you…alright?” he softly asked.

“I'll be fine, James,” she responded quietly. Ayse took out a kerchief and wiped away her tears. “I'm sorry you had to see that.”

“He doesn't always strike you…does he?”

Ayse shook her head. “N-no. This is the first time that's ever happened.”

“Regardless of whether it is the first time or the hundredth time, how dare he hit you like that! No woman deserves to have a harmful hand laid on her regardless of the reason,” James spat. “And then to call you a mongrel child…I daresay that was uncalled for as well!”

“It isn't really far from the truth,” Ayse admitted. “I was born an illegitimate child.”

“Were you?” he questioned.

Ayse nodded her affirmation of the fact. “My father had every intention of wedding my mother, but she…became pregnant with me, and my father was out at sea when she found out. Upon his return, she was so far along that they decided to wait until after I was born to make it official. Unfortunately…my mother died while giving birth to me and so I've had to live with the stigmata of being an illegitimate child because I was born out of wedlock.”

James frowned. “Even so, he had no right to use such foul words with you or harm you in any manner.” Ha paused to look at Ayse. Her head was bent down as though she were ashamed to look at him. “And the fact that you were born out of wedlock…it doesn't make you a bad person, Ayse. You were simply a child of unforeseen circumstance, and it will not cause our relationship with one another to change.”

She glanced up at him and blinked. “I'm glad of that, James.” Ayse stood up and approached his mirror and placed her hand on the glass. “At the risk of this being taken the wrong way, sometimes I rather wish it were you knocking on my door in courtship because you are just the kind of person I'd want to be with.” She touched her forehead to the glass, where James's chest was reflected, and closed her eyes.

James's own hand was resting on the surface of the glass, and he watched as she slid her palm over the exterior to meet his own palm. He wished, right then, that there was no barrier between them - that he could extend his arms out to her and embrace Ayse to offer his comfort and support at this time when she so needed it.

At the same time, Ayse wished that just once she could touch James - that he was a tangible, living, breathing object that could feel pleasure and pain, hunger and fatigue. She wished that he didn't have to be imprisoned in that horrible cell, fated to watch life happen but never being a part of it.

At the very moment that she was having these thoughts, a very strange thing began to happen. The surface of the looking glass shifted, and suddenly, her hand began to sink inside. Ayse lifted her head and watched in complete shock as her fingertips rippled the surface and became submerged within James's realm. She could see her hand on the inside, and she wiggled her fingers to be sure that what she was experiencing was real.

“J-James! Look!” she exclaimed.

He watched Ayse move her fingers inside the glass and then she seized his hand. He could feel her warmth as she enclosed her small hand around his fingers; yet, she wasn't quite grasping them as her solid hand kept passing through his. Still, it was a breakthrough, and James closed his eyes as he enjoyed the moment of feeling warmth for the first time in months.

“You're so…cold…” Ayse observed. “And…drafty.”

“And you're…warm,” James responded. “I haven't felt warmth in ages.”

Ayse pulled her hand out of the mirror, snapping James out of his reverie.

“How did that happen?” she asked.

“I…I don't know,” he asked baffled. “You were saying something about wishing it were me knocking on our door.”

Ayse's brow furrowed deep in thought. “Something just then triggered that reaction.” She put her hand up on the glass once more, but the plane of it remained solid this time. “I had my hand up here like this…and you…didn't you have your palm there?”

“I believe I did, actually…” James trailed. He moved his own hand to meet Ayse's, yet the glass still did not budge. “Do you think it was triggered by your statement?”

“No…I wouldn't think so, but rather…” Ayse suddenly had an idea. “James, what were you thinking at that moment?”

He suddenly blushed. “I'd rather not say. You might take it wrong.”

“You might have to, James. Tell me. I promise I won't be upset.”

He sighed and rubbed the back of his neck with his other hand. “I…well…I was thinking that…uhm…that I could reach out to you.”

Ayse stared at him in surprise. “You didn't want to see me upset…and you wished you could do something about it…like embrace me?”

“Y-yes…something like that…” James sheepishly admitted.

“Well, actually…I was wishing at that moment that I could touch you just once,” Ayse confided.

“Is that so? You don't think that's what caused that to happen, do you?” James inquired.

“It seems a possibility,” Asye pointed. “We were thinking about how much we wanted to touch one another, and…it happened…somehow.”

“Do you think we should…try it again?”

“I'm not suggesting that we not, James.” She paused and glanced at their hands. “I say we try again. I bet that's how it happened. Think those same thoughts of me, James, and I'll think of you.”

Together, Ayse and James concentrated their thoughts on one another, and sure enough, the surface of the glass began to ripple from the touch of Ayse's fingertips. Her hand protruded into the glass once more, and she could feel the same coldness of James's hand that she felt before.

“It's really working, Ayse!” James exclaimed. “I do believe we've made a breakthrough!”

“Indeed! Oh…we just might get you out of there yet!” Ayse responded happily. Ayse pulled away her hand and smiled up at James. “This is just the breakthrough that we needed. Now I am another step closer to helping you out of there.”

“The hardest step will be getting to Calypso,” he told her, “but I think for now we need to practice this breakthrough and see what we can do. The more we work with it, I think the more naturally it will come to us.”

“Indeed. Perhaps we can get to the point where you can safely change environments so that I may transport you,” Ayse told him. “And now I think it's very possible to get you into that pocket watch of yours now that we have discovered how to manipulate the surface of the looking glass.”

There was a long pause as James contemplated the situation. Ayse was working hard and exploring all possibilities in order to help him, yet, he was unable to offer her anything in return. Unless…

“Ayse?”

“Yes?”

“You are doing so much for me, and I want to see to it that if and when I get out of here, you are rewarded for your efforts.”

“Rewarded?” Ayse responded, baffled. “Oh, James, I require no reward.”

“But I insist, Ayse,” he argued. “So here it is: when I get out of this God forsaken place, I am going to help you get out of this engagement you're being forced into and take you away from Port Royal.”

Ayse laughed. “Ah, so you're going to be my knight in shining armor, so to speak?”

“I'm being serious! This is not the time to joke!” he protested.

Ayse sighed. “I appreciate the gesture, but sadly, by the time we get you out of there, it may be too late, and I'll be married off by then - if I can even free you in time.”

“But Ayse, you're unhappy here. I can see it, and now you're faced with the prospect of being married off against your wishes and your father's wishes. I want to help you, but if I am to do that, we should act now.”

“And just what are we going to do? Hnn?”

“I'm sure that it's crossed your mind once or twice, but in order to find Calypso, we are going to have to leave Port Royal to do that.”

“It has crossed my mind, I admit, but I see two problems: first, how am I even going to get out of Jamaica, and second: how much time do we even have?”

“I have an old friend of mine that we can trust to help us, and as for the time…it depends on when this gentleman wants to wed you.” Ha paused. “Who is this man anyway?”

“Alson Bradley.”

James wrinkled up his face. “Alson Bradley? Are you serious? My God, Ayse, I can see why you're against this one hundred percent. He is far too old for you.”

“But weren't you older than Elizabeth?” Ayse pointed.

“I was, but not that much older! Mr. Bradley has at least twenty-five years on you. I only had about eleven on Elizabeth.”

Ayse nodded. “How old were you when you died?”

“I was thirty-three.”

“Ah, so you only have about 8 years on me.”

“You're twenty-five?”

“Yes.”

“You don't look it. You look younger than that.”

Ayse laughed. “I get that a lot, but thank you.” She paused for a moment. “So…what shall we do from now until we're ready to act?”

“Well, I say we make something of our breakthrough, and when we've done that, the next step is to contact my friend and get a plan going.” He looked up at her. “Now, I am being serious when I say that we are going to have to leave Port Royal. That means it is going to be a lot of hard work ahead when we get to that point and many dangers. Are you ready for such a thing and willing to endure it?”

“Anything is better than staying here and being miserable,” she told him. “I rather think the idea of leaving doesn't sound half bad, and I am willing to endure anything if it's for your sake, James. Leave everything to me.”

“You are such a good woman, Ayse, and I regret that I am even asking you to put yourself in such peril just for me, but you're the only hope I have.”

“I promised I would help you, James, and I intend to make good on that, no matter what gets thrown at me.” She put a hand on the mirror. “James, I…I care for you as my friend, and I want nothing more than to see you have a second chance after all you have been through.”

James looked down at the sincerity in her eyes, and for the first time, he felt a flicker of affection toward Ayse that he could not explain. There was a reason that his life had been placed in her hands - her gentle, kind hands - and James could only speculate whether their friendship was meant for something bigger.

“Then it's settled. In the meantime, why don't you make things less complicated for us by simply going along with whatever your uncle has planned?”

Ayse shot James a dark glare. “Are you serious?”

“Forgive me for saying so,” James started, “but judging from his violent reaction toward your refusal of marriage, I cannot help but think that your uncle has his own agenda and that he intends to use you as a pawn in whatever his intentions are. We will make our goal to act around your wedding day, whenever that may be, for now. Hopefully, by the time that comes around, we will be long gone. The fewer complications we have, the easier things will be for the both of us.”

Ayse chewed her lower lip. She didn't like the idea of catering to her soon to be fiancé and her uncle, but she knew James was right. She also knew that whatever journey she and James were about to embark on, this would be nothing but a drop in the bucket compared to what lay ahead.

“Fine,” she said begrudgingly. “But I will only do this because it's you that's asking.”

“I know, I know,” he responded, waving his hand dismissively. “And I will owe you one. I promise.”