( continues...) then?”

“Yes, fine, you've hired yourself a ship, Doctor. Congratulations.”

* * *

When Mal hears the scream come from Tam's cabin the next day, his first thought is of Master Frye. The Ship's Carpenter has been finding plenty of excuses to hang around the Doctor's cabin since they set sail, and Mal knows that besotted little grin all too well from the last time that Master Frye was all besmitten. He's crossing he deck with a pistol in his hand and an expression of pure, murderous fury on his face faster than you can say Anne Bonny, and when he slams the door open he fully expects to see – well. Not this. Not his fancypants Harley Street surgeon with his sleeves rolled up and his shirt unbuttoned, pinning some random, skinny, wriggling floozie to his bunk, one hand over her mouth and an expression of pure hand-in-the-cookie-jar guilt on his face as he meets Mal's eyes. The girl seems to be all knees and elbows, and she's wearing bloomers and a bodice and that seems to be pretty much it. Her dark hair spills down over the pillow and across her face like sea-wrack. She looks thoroughly woebegone.

“Doctor?” says Mal, in an admirably even voice. “Seems to me that we've something to talk about.”

“It's not what it looks like,” says Tam, and the girl takes that opportunity to knee him in the bollocks and wriggle out from under him. The Doctor curls up in an agonised ball for a few moments, and even though Mal is fixing to throw the fella overboard to feed the fishes, he can't help wincing in sympathy.

“Cap'n'? is everything – oh!” Master Frye's cheerful voice cuts off very abruptly, and Mal feels a little moment of pity for another shattered illusion. Turns out the fine Doctor didn't have such nice manners after all.

“He brung a woman on board?” That's the Master Gunner, right on cue. “He did! He brung a woman on board and he weren't planning on sharing? Ow! What?”

“This is 'Serenity'. You're perhaps thinking back to other ships you've sailed on, Master Cobb.” Book's tone is mild, but there's no mistaking the threat in it. The Boatswain is the very soul of courtesy, and almost impossible to rile, but they've all seen him in the heat of battle, and nobody aboard is fool enough to cross him. “There will be no 'sharing' of any unwilling man or woman on board this vessel.”

“You all right there, missy?” Mal says, tentatively. She doesn't look particularly distraut, as it turns out. “Not that I much approve of stowaways, mind, but I'm hazarding a guess you didn't have all that much say in the matter.”

She looks straight at him, and he's a little taken aback by how poised she is. “They weren't too pretty to die, after all,” she says, in a cold, clear voice, her head cocked slightly to one side, as if she can see right through him. “It still ate them all up.” She wriggles her fingers and snaps her teeth. “You don't have much of a taste for calamari now, do you, Captain?” Mal takes a step back, his eyes widening. He can feel people crowding in behind him, knows Zoe's got his back. He takes a deep breath. The girl frowns. “And yet here you still are, sailing on the surface when you know what lies beneath. Why is that?”

“She's – what is this?” Mal demands, as Tam, still white in the face, steps closer to the girl.

“She's my sister,” he says, coldly. “I was trying to help her sleep. I hoped that she could sleep through the whole voyage. She isn't – she isn't very good with strangers.” He draws a breath. “Or, well. With people.”

Mal gives this statement due consideration, and while he does the damsel in distress performs a handstand. Which is rather an impressive feat, given the swaying motion of the vessel, but she doesn't seem to find it unduly difficult. “Your sister?” he says, looking at Tam incredulously.

“Yes,” says the Doctor, stepping in front of her and glaring. “My little sister. River.”

Mal sighs. “Looks like we're going to need to have another conversation, Doctor Tam.”

* * *

“I am – very smart. Exceptionally so. Gifted, you might say. I (continued...)

( continues...) could read and write Greek, Latin, Spanish and French as fluently as I could English before I was seven, and I went up to Oxford when I was fourteen. So when I tell you that my little sister makes me look like an idiot child, I want you to understand my full meaning.” Dr Tam pauses, and looks around at the members of the crew Mal has allowed to join them for this little conversation. “She is a genius. Now, I know that the common wisdom would decry such a statement – how can a woman be a genius – but it is the unvarnished truth. River has the kind of mind that comes along not once in a century. In languages, in mathematics, in astronomy, in physics, in duelling, even - in all the fields of learning she should never be allowed to enter. River is extraordinary. She has always been extraordinary.” Dr Tam swallows, and glances over at the young lady in question, who is sprawling in a hammock, winding a lock of dark hair idly around her finger tip. He looks away, and his face is tight and unhappy. “But, of course, a reputation such as that is little use on the marriage mart. My parents did not want a daughter with such perverse aspirations. They wanted to ensure that she was appropriately tutored in more feminine arts. So they hired a governess to help subdue her. To encourage her to concentrate upon music, and dancing, and embroidery. Painting dainty pictures. More seemly and ladylike pursuits.”

Master Frye snorts quite audibly, and rolls his eyes. Tam looks startled at this interruption. Mal waves him on. “I was overseas, you understand. I did not know how – grave – the situation had become. We continued to correspond, but over time I grew – concerned. Very concerned. It was her hand, unmistakeably, and yet - she did not seem to be herself at all. My parents reassured me, told me she was growing into a fine and elegant young lady but – I found myself afraid.” He draws a deep breath, and runs a hand through his hair. He is not the same, neatly composed young gentleman who strode up the gangplank yesterday. Mal thinks he might be a little more inclined to like this version. Assuming he doesn't find himself inclined to throw the boy over the side of the ship.

“So what happened?” asks Book, gently.

Simon gives a small laugh, and looks around at them all. “I don't know how – you will not believe me, I think. Indeed, I don't see how anyone could possibly – but, still, I owe you the truth. Well, then. I returned home unannounced to our plantation at Caterhaugh, and my father flew into a rage. I could not understand his fury, or the guilt in his eyes, but then I saw my sister and – she was not River.” He shudders at the memory. “Oh, she looked the part, to be sure, but still – it was not merely because the passage of years had given her added stature and womanliness – no. Truly, there was something uncanny about the person I saw. Something – not quite human.”

“Well, ain't that reassuring?”

“Shut up, Jayne,” says Zoe, quietly.

Tam swallows. “This next part – well. I'll just tell it, and you can believe me or not. I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't lived it myself. You see, in my absence my father's business had flourished. Oh, we had never been poor, but I was astounded to see how great his consequence had grown, how grand the house was, how rich my mother's jewels. I didn't connect the two things – his wealth, and River's strangeness. Not at first. It was the governess – she whom I'd supposed the source of the problem – who gave me my first clue. Well. There's no point in beating around the bush, because it won't sound any more believable for being delayed – they had sold my sister. For a handsome profit. Sold her seven years earlier, a little while after I went to Oxford, in fact.”

“Sold her?” asks Book.

Tam shakes his head. “Yes, but – well.” He looks down. “To the fairies,” he says, and gives a helpless shrug. There is a moment of silence, and then Jayne laughs out loud.

“What is this horsedung, Cap'n? Why we even listening to him yammer on?”

“Hush your mouth, Jayne,” says Mal, watching the Doctor's face.

“I don't know why I'm even trying,” mutters Tam. “I sound like one of the patients at Bedlam. But, as God is my witness, it was true. My family – it turns out my family have a longstanding acquaintance with these creatures.” He shakes his head, as if he can't quite believe what he's saying. “They demand a tithe every seventh year, and my father knew of it. And he had a daughter he didn't have much use for, and thought she could be a bargaining chip. Seems the Lords and Ladies had a better grasp of what a treasure River is than her own father had, because they fell on the offer at once, and granted him seven years of good fortune in return for his only daughter. And they taught her all manner of things. Did – God only knows what they did, or where they took her. But she became stranger, and stranger, and more otherworldly by the day. The governess told me that at night River would go dancing in the moonlight, or chase after some darting bat, and my father always let her go. He knew she would be safe. And she was. If you can call this safe.” He shivers.

Oh, WOW. I love how you're bringing the supernatural into this. It fits extremely well--are you drawing from the Strange & Norrell universe for this?

Nope - just PotC in general, with a dash of Tam Lin.

Glad it's working for you!

Final bit:

* * *

River has been rocking herself gently all this while in the hammock, and in the pause that follows she begins to sing. "And pleasant is the fairy land, But, an eerie tale to tell, Ay at the end of seven years, We pay a tiend to hell.”

“Nope, that's not creepifying,” says Jayne.

“I was back just barely in the nick of time. That very night, when the moon was at the full, the Lords and Ladies were coming to claim her. My father confessed the whole of it to me, and told me all the ways in which I was culpable. How I had benefited from his, his 'sound business acumen'. How I could never have continued so long with my studies overseas, without the profit that River's sacrifice had brought him.” Tam swallows. “They were coming for her at the full of the moon, and this time they would carry her off to Hell, and the debt would be repaid. She was only a daughter, after all, and not biddable or beautiful enough to catch a rich man's eye. This was the best use she could make of her life, he said.”

“That's quite the display of paternal instincts,” says Mal, and Tam gives a bitter little laugh.

“Isn't it? My father, the humanitarian. Well, that night we were all to attend a feast at the Governor's house. All but River. I went along with them, played the dutiful son, but as the evening progressed I waited for my chance, and then I made good my escape. I was back at Carterhaugh before the sun had set, and I found River in her room, singing to herself, and brushing out her hair.” He swallows. “I bade her stay there, and not leave her room on any account, and I locked and bolted the door. I thought nothing could get past me.” He shakes his head. “I had no idea what I was dealing with.”

“What came?” asks Jayne, fascinated in spite of himself.

“Oh, nothing came. Nothing needed to come. She stepped out of the window and walked barefoot upon a beam of moonlight like it was a bridge of mother-of-pearl.”

“That sounds real pretty,” says Master Frye, wide-eyed and wistful.

“It was the most terrifying thing I'd ever seen. My heart was in my mouth when I saw her there, walking on – on nothing, like some creature from a nursery tale. She looked like she was already one of them. I ran out of the house and I followed her, shouting her name, pleading with her – but she never looked down. I followed her through the forest, and at last she alighted in a clearing, with a pool of water and strange carvings the like of which I'd never seen before. And – and they were there.” His eyes go wide, and for a long moment the Doctor just stares, clearly lost in a memory.

“They?” prompts the Boatswain, and Tam blinks.

“The Lords and Ladies of Fairy. They were – they – there are no words for what they were. And they were calling to River, beckoning her as a man might summon his hound.” Tam's eyes narrow. “But I seized hold of her, wrapped my arms tight around her waist, and I would not let her go, come what may. Not if it meant they took me with her into Hell. I had deserted her once already. I would not do it again.”

“Aaaw, bless your heart!” exclaims Master Frye, dabbing at his eyes. “And what happened next?”

“She turned into a tiger, and tried to rip my throat out,” says Tam, with a rueful little smile. Master Frye gasps. “And then into a serpent, and then a huge dog, and then some kind of lizard – an alligator, I think. And then a lion, and a cloud of wasps, and a different kind of serpent. It was – it was quite the most astonishing, terrible, impossible experience. It went against everything I knew about the world. But it was happening, and so I had to accept it. And I held on, through every transformation, until at last she became a burning coal that sizzled in my hands. And then I dropped her into the pool that shone bright as silver in the moonlight, and she was my sister once again, and free.”

He turns to look again at River, and Master Frye bursts into a spontaneous round of applause. “Oh, well done! Didn't he do well, Cap'n? Oh, he saved her!”

“So he says,” (continued...)

( continues...) agrees Mal, although he's inclined to believe the story, impossible thought it sounds. He's seen a number of impossible things since sailing these waters, and this would not be the strangest of them. And – she knew about the kraken. There's something uncanny about her, and no mistake. “So then what, Doctor Tam?”

“The Lady...” he swallows. “One of the Ladies came to us, and I thought she was going to take River then and there. But instead she gave me the compass. Said that I'd earned it, and that they would be taking someone else for the tithe.” He bites his lip. “I think – I'm fairly sure she meant my father, but I didn't stay to find out. I packed as quickly as I could, and I took all the gold and coin and plate I could find.” He sticks his chin out. “It's River's. She earned it, not my father. And then we came here. Because River – River still is not well. And my heart's desire is to find someone who can bring her back to what she was – or as close as may be. Someone who can help me fix her. And I believe that there is someone out here who can do it – I've heard stories, when I was younger, but I never gave them credit. A witch, living in the swamps somewhere – Tia Dalma, I think her name is?”

Mal shudders. “That's – that's not a wise name to speak out loud, when you're at sea,” he says, with a wince. The Doctor blinks.

“Well – I think she can help me. And so that's my story, in full. This is my sister, and she is – not well. Not quite right. And where we're going – well, we're going to find her a cure.”

Mal studies the young Doctor for a long moment in silence. “So would I be correct in thinking that all your fine words about “half now, half afterwards” were just so much faradiddle to talk me into setting sail with you and your suspiciously large trunk?”

Tam hangs his head. “Well – well, yes, in fact. Yes. But it's still a very respectable sum, and all of it's yours, if you'll just take us where the compass leads.”

“And all of it would still be mine if I just tossed you both overboard right now,” counters Mal.

“Cap'n! He's just joshing with you, Doctor! He wouldn't do something so downright mean and ornery. Would you, Cap'n?”

“Master Frye, your opinion of my generosity of spirit is flattering, but I'm afraid I don't merit such a high estimation. I'd toss him to the sharks in an instant if I thought he posed a threat to my ship or her crew.”

“Oh,” says Master Frye. “But – he don't! Do you, Doctor?”

Tam looks over at River, and then back at Mal. “It isn't my intention to bring any trouble down on your head, Captain,” he says, uncertainly.

“Ah, but there's a gap between intention and results, isn't there, my friend?” Mal fixes his gaze upon the young Doctor, as if he hopes to somehow plumb the depths of his soul. “You want to take us into deep waters, unknown waters, and you want to take us to tangle with Tia Dalma. That, Dr Tam, is trouble with a capital T.”

“Oh,” says the Doctor, looking suddenly very young. “I – I see. I hadn't really thought of that.”

“Indeed.” Mal shakes his head. “Jayne, throw him overboard.”

“Captain!”

“Cap'n', don't joke like that!”

“Cap'n, I'm sure you didn't mean...”

“Now, just a minute, can we talk about this before we start murdering people for no good reason?”

”No!” yells Mal, over the clamour of voices in the little cabin. “This is not a democracy!”

“Actually, Cap'n, it kind of is,” points out Master Frye, sounding apologetic but quite firm. “We voted for you, same as we voted for Zoe here. Democratic-like.”

“Well, yes, that's true, but – look, Zoe agrees with me, don't you?”

“Not sure that I do, Cap'n,” says Zoe, and the Sailing Master gives her hand a squeeze.

“Seems to me we could use a Ship's Doctor, and if little River here is as clever as he says, she might be useful to have aboard. You are looking for a new First Mate.”

“Oh, don't even – what is this, a rebellion? A mutiny? Are you mutinying on me, Master Frye?”

“No, Cap'n. 'Course not. I'm just refusing to do what you say.”

“Mister (continued...)

( continues...) Book?”

The Boatswain rubs his chin thoughtfully. “I think he seems like a brave, if somewhat foolhardy, young man. And he certainly has skills that would be most useful on board 'Serenity'. I think we should take a vote on it.”

“Jayne?”

“Oh, I'm with you, Cap'n. Let's throw him to the sharks. Seems a pity to waste the girl, though.”

“...somehow that was less reassuring than it might have been, Jayne. I find myself suddenly not wanting to be on my own side.” Mal draws a breath, and looks at the members of his crew arrayed in the cabin. “We could open this up to the Able Seamen, and take a vote, or I could just agree that you're all a bunch of feckless, romantic idiots with the self-preservation instincts of a day-old chick.” He sighs, and turns to Dr Tam. “Welcome aboard, Doctor. Miss Tam. Since it seems you don't have the currency you promised me when we set off on this voyage, perhaps we can agree that you can make the rest of your payment in work?”

Tam eyes Jayne with suspicion. “River is not – she is a respectable young woman,” he says.

“Am not,” says River, from her position in the hammock. She's still clad in just her bloomers and one of Simon's shirts.

“See?” says Jayne, hopefully, and Zoe slaps him without looking up.

“Well, leaving aside the question of respectability – which I've come to see is a highly over-rated quality – does she not have some skills? You stood here telling us she was the cleverest, shiniest little jewel of girlhood ever to walk the face of the earth, with her sums and her languages and her duelling. Can she swab a deck?”

River flips herself over and out of the hammock with one startlingly graceful move, and stands in the middle of the room, smiling a very disconcerting little smile. “I can outfight every man and woman aboard this vessel, and I can navigate without need of a map or a compass, so long as I can see the sky,” she says, her voice clear and precise. “I know what lurks beneath the surface of the ocean, and what lies behind men's eyes, and I can scramble up to the crow's nest faster than any rigger on board. I can run, and dance, and swim, and I know all the Prime Numbers, and the names of all the stars in the sky – their true names, not the made-up ones. I know dead languages and living languages and the languages of beasts and fish. Sometimes I can walk on air.” She cocks her head thoughtfully, and adds: “But I can't cook. Cooking is not one of my skills.”

“Well, sounds like you're still in a job, at any rate, Mister Book,” murmurs Zoe.

“Aw, c'mon, Cap'n. Can we keep 'em?” begs Master Frye.

“We're keeping them, Master Frye. I make no doubt we'll come to regret it in the fullness of time, but – looks like we're keeping 'em,” says Mal, shaking his head at his own folly.

More, please? ::puppy eyes::

Oh, bless you! I'm glad you liked it - but that's where I'm drawing to a close. (I mean, I could send them off to find Tia Dalma, and we could see River get kind of cured of some of her crazy, and the compass handed over to Tia Dalma in return - but I'm going to end it with the gang all assembled. 'Cause there are 25 squares on my bingo card. And although technically I could just write 25 little 500 word pieces...somehow it isn't working out quite like that.

sighs

Oh, Fay, that was lovely! It blended the two worlds quite nicely and with that little bit of Tam Lin thrown in, it quite gave me the chills when you described Simon holding on to River through all those changes. Well done! And while I wouldn't mind more, I do think that you've drawn it to a very satisfying conclusion.