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The Jackdaw’s white sails were swollen with the hot Caribbean wind, and they decorated the sky, rivaling the clouds. It was a perfectly beautiful day, and you were in high spirits.
You loved the feeling of the wind in your hair, the Jackdaw’s railing in your hands, even the sun beating down on your skin.
Your eyes often drifted over to your captain.
—
Edward was a constant in your life since you’d become a pirate. You’d found a friend in him several years ago when he was first pressed into Thatch’s service. Out of the whole crew, you were likely the first to show any kindness to him, and after some talk and getting to know each other, you’d been friends ever since.
He was a good sailor, and both you and Thatch had taken a liking to him right away. Although…in two very different ways. Whereas Thatch saw in him a friend, perhaps even a son, you saw in him a possibility. A question that had yet to be answered, and possibly never would.
He’d went off on his own for a while, much to your displeasure. When he returned to Nassau in 1715, back when you’d still been serving under Thatch, you felt your heart jumping out of your throat when you first caught sight of him.
Yes, you’d been glad to see him, but he’d changed. He’d always been on the arrogant side, but the way he walked and talked, now that he had his own ship…it was no longer arrogance. It was confidence, and it was justified.
He’d said he was looking for a crew for this new ship that he’d named Jackdaw - a name that Thatch ridiculed, of course. Immediately, you wanted to join. But with a glance at your who was your captain at the time, you knew he wouldn’t be pleased if you simply volunteered yourself without speaking about it with him first.
So you let Edward go on his search for a crew, but as soon as he was out of earshot, Thatch spoke.
"Lass, I can tell you want to join up with his crew."
You had been tipping back your tankard when he said it, and you froze.
"Are you angry?"
"Angry?" he said, with a grin. "Course not!"
"Really?"
"Lass," he said, putting his arm around you, "you two got on so well aboard my ship, I knew that if he lived long enough to captain his own crew, you’d be among them."
You thought on your decision.
Yes, you loved being a part of Thatch’s crew. He was a good and fair captain. There was not one instance that he’d ever shown preference towards you over the other crew members, and vice versa; you were grateful for that. Even when on shore, he’d never treated you as anything more or less than an equal.
But, and you couldn’t say for sure what it was, something was pulling you towards being on Edward’s crew. Perhaps you craved a change.
Or perhaps it was something else you craved. Companionship, maybe.
"…if I change my mind down the road, can I come back?" you ask Thatch, eyes large and hopeful.
"You know ye can, lass. Now go catch up with Kenway, ‘fore there’s no more room on his ship for ya."
That was all the convincing it took. You stood from your stool, almost knocking it over in the process, and began to jog to catch up with Edward before he got too far.
It had only been a minute or two since he’d set off, so it wasn’t too difficult to find him. Especially with his unique outfit. Upon seeing his mop of straw-blond hair, you came up behind him and tapped his shoulder.
When he turned and saw who it was, his tanned face broke into a wide grin.
"Ah, if it isn’t my favorite lady on the island!" he said. Your breath caught in your throat. "What brings you to me today?"
You elected to waste no time in disclosing your intentions.
"I’m here to join your crew," you said, smirking.
His smile fell away and blue eyes widened in surprise. He looked at you for a moment, searching your face as if he expected it to be a sarcastic joke. He took so long to reply, you had begun to worry that he would say no.
"Thatch is fine with this?" he asked.
"This is something I want to do, Kenway, and Thatch knew that even before I did," you replied with a scoff. "So is that a yes?"
His face was stretched into a smile once again.
"Welcome to the crew."
—
That had been over a year ago, and while Thatch’s offer still stood, you wouldn’t trade your place on this ship for the world.
To be here, standing beside Edward, his voice confidently shouting commands to his crew…it was all you needed to remain happy nowadays.
After about a half hour of sailing, Edward called for a full stop and the Jackdaw slowly drifted to a halt next to the bow of a ship that was poking out of the blanket of cerulean.
"Ready the diving bell, lads!"
Your face stretched into a small smile, and as Edward began to remove his armor and most of his clothing, you quietly slipped into Edward’s cabin and began to remove your own.
You left your blouse on. You supposed that, due to that fact, it wasn’t really necessary for you to get ready in the cabin. You could have just as easily done it out on the deck like Edward did. But you didn’t want any of the crew getting the wrong idea.
When you had rid yourself of all heavy armor, all weapons, and just about everything but what was needed to cover yourself, you stepped out of the cabin, and Edward cast you a sideways glance.
"I’m coming with you, Captain Kenway."
He raised a brow.
"You sure about this? There are all sorts of dangers down there, lass. Moorays, sharks…"
You rolled your eyes.
"You speak as if the life of a pirate is safe and cozy. I’m coming with you," you told him, tone final and leaving no more room for argument.
He chuckled at your spirit, shook his head, and moved to the railing. You stood with him, and together, you hoisted yourselves onto it and squatted, waiting.
This was something you liked about Edward. He may question you from time to time just to be sure it was what you wanted, but he respected your decisions.
The crew dropped the bell, and it hit the water with a deep, resonant sound, and Edward kicked off with his legs and dove into the water. You mirrored his movements, and you both grabbed onto the chain.
The bell dragged you both down into the deep. You shivered as the water found its way into your ears; a feeling you’d never liked. When the bell stopped, Edward crawled down the bell to reach its underside, and you followed.
You both surfaced, breathing in air.
"Ready?" he asked with a cheeky smirk. You rolled your eyes and gently splashed some water in his face.
"As if you need to ask," you said, returning his friendly expression. He laughed, and then you both took a breath and dove back in.
—
The two of you, upon further exploration of the wreck, discovered a cave entrance, and after a few minutes of swimming through tunnels, you found what seemed to be a smuggler’s den.
It was full of men, and you looked at Edward with a look of reproach. He only smiled and held his finger to his lips.
"Shhhh."
He climbed up the side of a crudely constructed walkway. Right above him, one of the men leaned on his musket, looking positively bored. He wasn’t paying any attention to his surroundings.
Edward took the opportunity to spring forward. He grabbed the man by the front of his shirt and flung him off the side, where he hit his head on a protruding plank of wood and hit the water with a loud splash.
You clambered up the side, and when you reached the top to join him, Edward was already picking up the musket his poor victim had dropped.
Ahead, you spotted another man. Edward pointed the musket, but you hissed disapprovingly, and placed your hand on the barrel, lowering it. When he looked at you, you shook your head, and pointed to the half dozen other men across the small cave.
He knew what you meant: shooting this one now would take care of him, but would alert the others, only creating more trouble. He nodded, and you slowly and silently stalked towards the man.
He didn’t hear you coming at all. He yawned noisily, and scratched at his head. You glanced at the rest of the men to be sure they were not watching, and you swiftly grabbed him, covered his mouth, gripped his neck in the crook of your arm, and dragged him out of sight. He flailed, trying to get you to remove your hands, but you didn’t grant his wish. After a minute of holding him tightly, he went unconscious.
Edward crept up to kneel beside you.
"Nicely done," he whispered. You leaned around the stacked crates that you both used for cover to get a better look at the other men. Your eyes spotted something that was a faded red on the floor.
Gunpowder barrels. Perfect.
You leaned back to him and whispered back.
"There are barrels near their feet. If you shoot them, maybe we can kill many birds with one stone…or one bullet, rather."
He nodded, and peered around the corner. The musket in hand, he took aim. You sat, trusting his eyes and hands, and waited for him to take the shot.
When he did, you heard no explosion. Only a scream, and Edward swearing.
"Shit!" he cursed. "One of them moved in front of the barrel just as I shot."
Dammit. This was not good. There were at least six men - though it would be five now, as the one Edward just shot was dead. You were badly outnumbered. But now, because of that shot, they knew you were there.
They began shouting, and you both sprang out of cover. Edward kept the musket, intending to use the bayonet on its end, but you yourself were unfortunately unarmed.
This problem, however, would quickly be fixed. One of the smaller men lunged at you, a short sword in his hand. You dodged the blade, and grabbed his shoulders to brace yourself as you sent your knee careening into his gut. He doubled over, dropping his blade, and you wasted no time in snatching it off the ground. It wasn’t the best equipment, but it would have to do.
Another man swung his sword, and you easily dodged him as well. When he had passed you, you swung your arm out behind you, piercing him in the back with your stolen weapon. He dropped to the ground. If he was not dead, he soon would be. You whipped your head around, looking for another target.
You heard Edward crying out in pain, and turned just in time to see a large man knock him to the ground with the butt of his gun. Time seemed to slow as the man pointed the deadlier end of his musket at Edward’s head.
"No!"
Your body surged forward without having to be told to. Your feet moved faster than you thought they were capable of.
You were not about to let the man you love die.
Without thinking, you threw your entire body between him and the musket, just as he pulled the trigger and the gun fired.
A short, yelping scream was forced from your lungs as you felt the musket ball entering your flesh. It burned. Oh god, it burned so badly.
Your body thudded onto the wooden walkway just in front of Edward. He looked at you with horror in his blue eyes, and that was the last thing you saw before your vision was painted black.
—
Blood seeped out of your wound, and Edward struggled to tear his gaze from the growing crimson stain on your side.
There was fear, of that there was no doubt. Fear from his life almost lost, and fear for your life as well. But there was a more prominent feeling welling up inside him: rage.
His blood boiled. He wanted to rip the man apart with his bare hands. He would if he could.
While the man was frantically trying to reload, Edward scrambled onto his feet and introduced his fist to the man’s jaw. He wrenched the musket from his hands and used the bayonet to end his life.
He turned on the last two, not caring that he was outnumbered. He roared furiously and charged at one of them, stabbing them. The momentum from his running start let him pick the man clean off the ground and carry him briefly, before he slammed him down to the ground.
The final enemy came at him, but Edward pulled the musket from the freshly killed man, held the barrel, and swung, using the handled end as a club of sorts and knocked him unconscious. He lay on the ground, moaning in pain, and Edward kicked him in the stomach in a final fit of anger. He stood above him, panting, blood on his hands, and as the rage faded he remembered what had made him so frenzied.
Edward spun around and moved quickly. He pressed an ear to your chest, and was relieved to hear a heartbeat. He could hear you breathing, but it was tense and labored. He knew that you needed help, and fast.
He scooped you off the ground as gingerly as he could, not wanting to agitate your wound, but he knew it was inevitable. Blood began to dampen his skin, and he choked back a sob of worry.
Moving quickly, but taking care not to jostle you, he made his way to the cave’s exit, where daylight and the sound of seagulls beckoned him. The exit led to a small patch of land and a clear view of the Jackdaw.
He looked around to see if there was a rowboat, but his luck had run dry. He would have to swim you back to the Jackdaw.
Once he had entered deeper water, he hooked one arm around you and used his other to swim. It was slow-going, but it was the only way.
When he reached the side of the ship, he heard the shouting of his crew, calling that the Captain had returned.
"Lower a boat, men!" he shouted, voice wavering. "She’s been shot!"
They all clamored to obey, clearly just as concerned as he was. The boat slapped against the surface of the water, and a crewman helped to lift you and settle you into the boat.
As the boat was being raised, Edward did not take his eyes off you once.
—
"Son," Thatch said, placing his hand on Edward’s shoulder, "that lass has feelings for you."
He and Edward watched as you went about familiarizing yourself with the Jackdaw for the first time. Thatch spoke lowly so that you could not hear.
"Not you too!" Edward said, rolling his eyes. "Everyone keeps insisting so."
"Because it’s true!" Thatch said with a sigh of exasperation.
Edward shook his head, going back to watching you, thinking Thatch had finished.
"Listen to me, lad. Loyalty only goes so far before it’s more than that. More complicated."
"Enough, Thatch!" Edward said, irritated, shaking his head. "That’s not how it is with us. That’s the end of it."
Thatch shook his head as well, stepping away. Before he left, he turned back to face the younger man.
"Just…think about what I said," he ordered, walking away. He added one last part to himself under his breath. "You’ll see the truth one way or another."
—
Edward gave the surgeon the use of his cabin for privacy. He’d been in there for so long.
He’d come out once, only to tell Edward that you would live.
"The musket ball was stopped by her ribs, so it did not damage her heart. She was lucky…"
Edward breathed a sigh of relief.
"…but a few of the ribs were broken. It will take time to heal."
As long as you were alive, and would continue to live, that was all that mattered.
He began to sail the Jackdaw, setting a course for Nassau. It would be better for you to heal on dry land where if a storm hit, proper shelter could be found. And if a ship attacked, you would not be at risk.
As Edward steered the ship. The skies were clear and the sea was open, so he turned the ship in the right direction and let his mind wander.
He thought back on what Thatch had said. About you having feelings for him. At the time, he’d thought it was preposterous. Everyone was always nudging him with their elbows and teasing him about his sole female crew member. He’d been adamant in telling them that there was nothing between them.
But now, he began to have different thoughts. Looking back on it, Edward began to recall all the times you had cared for him.
More than once, he had woken up with a hangover in a bed with no recollection of getting there. At the bedside, you sat with with a damp cloth, wiping the sweat from his brow. You would always have a tankard of water for him. And when there was no bed available, he would wake with his head rested on your lap.
And more than once, when the nights got especially cool and put a shiver in your bodies, you would press closely together and bask in each other’s warmth
You had risked your safety many times for him while in battle, and had always taken his side in a drunken brawl, no matter who was the one wronged, or how stupid a reason he was fighting for.
Up until now, he had always written it off as simple camaraderie. But the more he thought about it, and, when he thought back on the day’s events, remembering the look of both worry and relief that he saw in your eyes just before you lost consciousness in that cave, the more Thatch’s words sounded true.
And, the more he thought about it, the more he realized that he felt the same.
Edward spent the night bunking with the deckhands. The surgeon was still busy tending to your wounds and he was to be given privacy, by his orders, as well as the use of his own bed.
The next morning, Edward was the first to wake. He had gotten little sleep, due to worry. He knocked softly on the door to his cabin, and the surgeon called for him to enter. He stepped inside and was met with the metallic reek of blood. Cast aside on the floor were several crimson-stained linens. Edward looked at you, and his throat tightened.
You were still asleep on his bed. Your bloodied blouse was tossed along with the linens, and you were topless, but the surgeon had preserved your dignity by wrapping your chest in the same gauze that he used to dress your wound.
"How is she?" Edward asked softly.
"She will be fine. She needs rest, and plenty of it. Getting to shore would be her best bet."
"Aye, it should be a week before we reach Nassau."
"Right. Best we can do for now is keep her wound clean and cared for and let her sleep," he said. Edward did not respond, nor did he take his eyes off you. "Would you like to be left with her in private, sir?"
Edward looked back at the doctor, and nodded.
"Yes. Tell Ade he has the helm until further notice. I will call for you if I have need of you."
"Aye, captain." And with that he left Edward with you, quietly closing the door.
Edward’s breath quickened in a. He shouldn’t have let this happen to you. As the captain he was responsible for the crew’s well-being, including yours. He had to remind himself more than once that you were an adult, and you had consciously made the decision to come along with him. Still, that did not make him feel any better.
He considered dragging a stool closer to sit by the bed side, but instead, he perched just on the edge, taking care to sit carefully so you didn’t shift with his added weight.
"You’ll be alright now," he said, though he knew you wouldn’t hear. "I’ll make sure of that."
—
The first thing you noticed when you pried your eyes open was the dryness of your mouth and throat. The next was the throbbing pain in your abdomen. You looked down, lifted the soft, comforting blanket, and cursed as you saw the red splotchy stain on the gauze that wrapped around your body. You fought back the panic, and forced yourself to remain calm.
First thing to deal with would be the overwhelming thirst. You turned your head to the side, groaning as the movement caused your head to ache. On the far table, there was a pitcher of what you hoped was water. Bracing your hand on the bed, you shakily attempted to sit up, but a strong, gentle hand pressed against your shoulder and pushed you back down.
"Easy now," he soothed. "Best if you kept still."
"Edward?" you croaked. You could barely raise your voice above a whisper. You heard his voice and felt something warm next to you.
"Aye, love, try not to talk. I’ll get you water."
It was only when he carefully took your head in his hands and lowered it onto the pillow did you register that he had been there, letting you use him as a headrest. He got off the bed and crossed the cramped room to grab the pitcher and filled a tankard with clear water. When he brought it to you, he helped you tip back your head so you could drink. It wasn’t cool, but you were so parched you couldn’t care less.
When you’d finished, he set the tankard back on the table and crawled back into the bed. Your face got hot, and the heat traveled down your neck as he situated himself as closely to you as he could without making you move.
"I…" you said, trailing off. You couldn’t find the words. You were confused. Surely it was a dream.
"Shhh, rest now, love," he said, pressing his lips to your forehead. "You’ve taken care of me more than I deserve. Now it’s time you get what you truly deserve.”
Your heartbeat sped up until it was pounding so hard it was threatening to break your ribs even more than they already were. He brought his lips to connect with you again, but this time they met your own.
You felt like you were on fire, but what you thought was emotion was just the fever and the pain. You began to drift off to sleep again, and as you shut your eyes and lost consciousness, you heard him speak one more time.
"Rest well, now, my love. I’ll be here when you wake."