One-Shot
Canon Ending to Hollowed Trust
All I Hold Dear

Part I:
The Hope We Had
Mary Read

"Get the hell of me!" Anne was screaming. Mary couldn't pay her much mind because she was struggling with the guard who was trying to pin down her own arms. She thrashed and kicked as hard as she could, making it as difficult as possible for his fingers to wander up her skirt.

That was the danger of being a woman in a prison. Their bellies weren't swelling yet and the guards thought they could have 'fun' with them until that happened. They had been making crude comments for two weeks now but this was the first time they acted on it. Mary and Anne had been asleep, but they had woken up to these bastards trying to peel their clothes off them.

"Hold still, bitch!" The guard slapped her so hard she saw stars and he managed to roll her skirt up to her hips with one hand and grab both her wrists in the other. She kicked and kneed, trying to get him in the groin or stomach. Finally she got her leg in front of him and she kicked him, hard, in the stomach. He fell off of her cursing. She was up in a second, grabbing his head in her hands and twisting. His neck snapped and he fell to the ground dead. She grabbed his pistol and sword and ran out of the cell. She could still hear Anne screaming and fighting.

She used the sword to kill the solider on Anne and helped her up. She grabbed a pistol and sword and ran. Both of them had blood staining their dresses, but they ran anyway. Mary's heart was thudding hard and fast in her chest. They ran, hiding when they could. They were so close to the outside, Mary could see the door. If only they could get there…! Mary knew for a fact that if they could get outside, they could get away.

They made a run for it, their bare feet slapping against the stone floor. Suddenly two guards appeared in the doorway. They had their guns drawn. Four more were behind the two women. No! They had been so close. They stood there and they had to drop their weapons. With the weapons, went their hope.

They were led back to their cages and Mary sat, leaning against the wall. There was a small hole in it where she and Anne could talk to each other without being overheard by the guards. Since there weren't many around, she took her charm out too. She hid it under some loose stones in her cell but when they were alone; she would draw it out and just hold it. It helped her keep a little hope.

She sat there, thinking of all the mistakes she had made up to this point. If only she had gone with Edward…perhaps he would not be in prison and nor would she. Anne…would she have been better off if Mary had not returned to Nassau? She couldn't say. She sighed, feeling a single tear run down her face. She needed to escape so badly. The child in her belly deserved to know her mother – deserved to be raised in safety. Not this…They'd hang her and do what with her baby?

"Mary…" Anne's voice stirred her. "What are we going to do now?" Her voice was desperate.

"I don't know Anne." She whispered back. "I really don't know."

Time passed and the guards kept on harassing the ladies, until their stomachs began to swell. As they did, Mary and Anne lost hope. There was no way they could escape. Mary had never felt so uncomfortable. She had energy now, so she paced restlessly often. She knew Anne was feeling the same. At least it was cool in the jail, out of the oppressive heat of the sun. She didn't know how some women carried children when it was so hot out. She couldn't imagine the heat when she already seemed so warm. Was it the baby in her belly making her feel warm? Or was it because of something else? She couldn't say.

She and Anne sometimes spoke of their lovers. Anne told Mary of her husband before – James Bonny. He came one day, having been contacted because is 'wife' was in jail. He looked at Anne and Mary with ill contempt and then left, saying he and Anne were divorced. He could have bought them both, gotten them out of jail. Anne told Mary not to worry so, as her father was also rich and powerful. When he heard of what happened to her, he would surely save them both.

Mary didn't have much hope for that.

So they sat in prison, drinking barely clean water and prayed it didn't make them ill. They ate scrapes of food, thanking their stars that they didn't have to pick maggots out of it. Because of their condition, they were treated slightly better than the average prisoner. Mary wondered often after Edward, hoping he didn't find himself ill either.

That was one thing Mary didn't speak of at first, Edward and her relationship with him. But Anne prodded and poked until Mary told her everything. She admitted that she loved Edward and if she could see him again before she hung, that would make her at least happy. Anne wondered if she shouldn't have watched Jack's hanging. She felt now what she did was cruel. Mary had to agree with that, but she never said as much.

But as the months wore on, Mary found the pregnancy taking a toll on her body. She tired more easily, her back ached, her chest ached, her feet ached. She found herself sitting all the more, clutching her charm in her hand as if it might save her from her own fate. She thought more of Edward and the mistakes they made together. She realized that if things had went differently, if he hadn't been so pig-headed, if she hadn't been so stubborn, perhaps they could have found some semblance of happiness. It would have been rough, it wouldn't have been easy and she knew that she might have given up in the long run, but they would have been happy – for a spell at least. She loved him though and she always would, that much she knew in her heart.

Anne tried to get her to eat more, going as far as giving up some of her own food – or at least trying to. Mary wouldn't let her. Mary couldn't let her. She was having a child too and one of them had to survive. One of them had to remember the other. Anne deserved to live. She was so young yet, Mary had lived her life. If one of them had to go – it should be her. She wanted to survive though. She wanted to see Edward again, more than anything. She had to keep going for that. Just to see his blue eyes one last time. Just to smile at him, just to be held in his arms again. That was all she pushed for now.

July 1720

Mary went into labor in the early morning. They had a doctor in the area just for when they went into labor and he came in and assisted the best he could. Mary still had to do most of the work. She pushed and panted and it felt like her body was ripping itself apart. She had to do this though. She had to. The baby was depending on her – her baby. She wasn't going to fail this time.

She was covered in sweat, blood and was in tears from the pain. Her labor was not easy and the doctor kept telling the guards she'd probably die in childbirth. They moved her out of her cell at least. Finally…finally after well…she wasn't sure how long, she heard a child crying. She watched as the doctor cleaned the little one up.

"A girl" He announced, though the guards looked disinterested. Mary smiled weakly.

"Can I see her? Please…?" The guards shook their head. Mary gasped. "No…please…please! Let me see my daughter! Please!" Her voice was strained and weak. She was so tired, but she wanted to see her child, she wanted to see her daughter once. Just once.

"Just one look couldn't hurt" The doctor told the guards. Clearly he had more heart than them. Still, he kneeled and she reached to hold her, but he didn't hand her over. She saw the baby girl in his arms. Her eyes were closed, her skin still very dark pink. She had a coating of very fine, very light hair though. Mary knew, just by the look of her though, who her father was.

"Okay! She had a look! Get that brat out of here!" The guard pulled the doctor back up.

"No!" Mary cried, she lifted a blood covered hand to reach for the doctor and her daughter. He was already being escorted out though, taking her baby with him. No! Her child! Her daughter! She tried to rise but her body rebelled and she fell back to the floor.

She awoke in her cell, unaware that she had passed out. She was lying on her bed, using her own hands for a pillow. She was covered in a light sweat, but in clean clothes at least. She shivered, feeling cold but much too hot at the same time. She tried to focus on…something…anything but her eyes wouldn't do it. Her body felt weak, everything was fading in and out. She even had trouble hearing things. It was like the world was coming in and out of focus.

"You spineless cockrobin! Help her, for God's sake. Fetch help, somebody! Mary's ill! Somebody please!" That was Anne…shouting for help. For her apparently. She wasn't so bad off was she?

No…no as she thought about it, she knew what was happening. She was dying. Yes, she was dying. Why? How? Did it matter? She was dying and not all the help in the world could stop it. She just had to hold out a little. Just a little longer…perhaps Edward would come. She just wanted to see him one last time. Just one last time was all she asked. She knew she had lived a sinful life, but if there was a God, she wanted His mercy just on this count. She could burn in Hell, she didn't care as long as she got this one bit of mercy, this one act.

Just let me see him again. Please, I have to tell him. He needs to know…please…

Suddenly there was no more shouting and she heard what she thought was her cell opening. That couldn't be though right? She tried to focus her eyes, but the room as too dim and blurry. Footsteps raced towards her and someone touched her face, titling her head up towards them. She forced herself to focus and there he was. His blue eyes were wide, scared, sad, relieved. He was happy to see her and she found herself smiling, just a little. Mercy on her soul, he was a sight for sore eyes.

"Mary? Mary, it's me! Edward!"

"Edward…" She managed to murmur weakly. "You came"

"Edward! Who's this fella?" It was Anne's voice from the cell over.

"It's all right, Anne. He's a friend. What's wrong with Mary?" His voice was scared. His eyes were too. She wanted to comfort him, but there was nothing that she could say that wasn't a lie.

"She's ill"

Edward looked away, towards Anne's cell Mary thought. "And…her child?"

"They took her. No idea where. Ah!" She cried out suddenly in pain.

"I know it pains, M'lady, but we must be silent" That was Ah Tabai's voice. He was here too? He must have been the friend that Edward was talking about.

Suddenly Edward was pulling her up to her feet. She was limp for a moment but she remembered how to hold herself up. Her body was weak though, she had to lean against Edward. "Can you walk? Lean on me, Mary. Come on" He began to help her out of the cell, his arm around her waist, her arm limply around his shoulder.

"I can't…" She muttered as they made their way out. He had to leave her behind and though that thought hurt her heart, she had something very important to tell him first. She took a deep breath, drawing on what little strength she had left in her body. "Edward…Edward…listen…please…my child, my daughter….Her hair…was just like – Ah!" Pain scorched through her body so hot and heavy she cried out and she nearly fell. Edward caught her and pulled her back up.

"Hush Mary…Sh…"

"Please…find her" She begged. She couldn't get the words she needed out. She tried so hard but she was so weak. She was dying. She couldn't do this, couldn't he see that?

"Come on" He said to her, pulling her more firmly against him, supporting her weight more. "That's it. You're alright" His voice was desperate for that to be true. He couldn't accept that she was dying. She understood of course. If the situation were reversed she'd be of much the same mind.

"Stop!" She cried out. He stopped, letting her lean against a wall. "Stop…please…" She pleaded. She just wanted him to leave her. She could hear the guards coming. If he dragged her along, he would die with her. One of them had to live. One of them had to.

"I ain't leaving you, dammit!" His voice was filled with tears. "Lift your arm!" He was practically carrying her now but every step was pure agony for her. Her knees gave out with every step now, her body was staring to fail her. She could barely feel her legs and her hands were freezing. She was gasping and panting, unable to keep up even with this slow pace.

"It's no good" She murmured to him, trying to get him to give up.

"I ain't leaving you nowhere! No bloody way!" He stopped so he could lift her into his arms. She lay there limply, looking up at her lover. She didn't want him to die for her. Nor did she want him to die with her. He didn't get far. He was hurt and starved and weak. He ended up stopping just outside, the night air feeling good on her fevered skin.

"Put me down, Edward!" She demanded. He lowered her slowly to the ground, placing her head on his lap. Tears were already running down his face. "Don't die on my account. Go!" She waved her hand, trying to seem stronger than she was. She didn't want to die looking weak, no she wanted him to remember her as she was before, not how she was now.

He palmed some tears out of his eyes and she placed her hand on his cheek. He smiled weakly. "You're such a pain in the arse." He whispered to her and she chuckled lightly, but stopped quickly because it made her chest hurt. "Damn it! You should have been the one to outlast me!" He choked on his words.

"I've done my part" She told him, her brown eyes very serious. "Will you?"

Her hand started to slip from his cheek, she was no longer able to hold it there, but he grabbed it and kissed her palm before placing her hand gently on her stomach. He threaded his warm fingers through her cold ones. He looked down at her and a tear dripped from his chin onto her cheek. "If you came with me, I could."

He lowered his head then, so he could hear her last words, whispered with her last breath. His ear was at her lips so he could hear her. She could feel him shaking with unshed tears, with sadness that no one person should have to hold.

"I'll be with you, Kenway." She promised, meaning it with her whole being. "I will"

Then, in her lover's arms, Mary Read died.

Part II:
Still Here
Edward Kenway

"No more than two years! You promised me-!" screamed the ghost of his wife Caroline. He dreamed of her a lot in these drunken dreams. She was beautiful, even as she screeched at him. Her red hair was plastered to her face, her eyes nearly glowed with anger and yet he was transfixed on her. He knew she was right, but he did not want to admit it. No, he couldn't just let her be right. He had to be, because if he were wrong, that meant everything he had done – everyone he had lost – had been in vain. Right now they stood on the deck of his Jackdaw and he knew it was a drunken dream because he did not have his ship nor did he have his wife, though he wished he did.

"You left!" He cut her off, roaring at the top of his lungs. The rain poured on both of them, making his robes and hair stick to him, making it hard to keep his hair out of his face. Thunder cracked above them and lightening lit up the ship for a moment. "When I needed you the most!"

"But you had me! What keeps you wandering? Do I not make you happy?" She wailed. He could see the tears glimmering in her eyes even in the dim light.

No! No she didn't! Not like this! Never like this! He wanted her to go away!

"I'm so close, Caroline!" His voice was raw. "Please! Just let me do this!"

And please! Just go away! No more…he couldn't stand for anymore! Especially not…The lightning struck again and Caroline was no longer there. No, the ghost that was there was ten times worse. It was Mary. He remembered her dying in his arms, for that was the only image he had of her when he was sober. It was only when he was drunk that he could remember as she had been – healthy and whole and beautiful in her own way. He had, in his own way, loved her. Now she was gone and here was her ghost, coming back to haunt him. And how she haunted him so! He wished she would just leave him be. Her words stung, each one was always sarcastic and aimed straight at his heart – aimed to harm, aimed to maim, aimed to kill, aimed to shred apart the last of his sanity!

"Is everything you do out of spite, Edward?" She spat at him. She was dressed as James Kidd, her long hair up in her wrap but sticking to her face because of the rain. Her brown eyes narrowed at him, accusing, angry. It reminded him of when they had fought, when they had brawled. He rather try and remember the times he had her in his bed, beneath him but right now those memories were so far away and much too painful. He felt fresh tears run down his face, though no one could tell due to the rain.

"It's not spite that's driving me, Mary!" He told her, shouting above the rain, above the waves, above the storm. "It's courage!"

Mary laughed, so bitter and so condescending that he flinched. He shouldn't have been able to hear it but she was a ghost, she was above all mortal things now. "Courage! For what, man? There's no one left in your life to care!"

That was right. Everyone was dead or had left him. Thatch, Hornigold, Rackham, Vane and Mary too. Mary was dead. Mary was dead. Yet, here her ghost was, laughing at him, Having a good laugh at that. He was so pathetic, he didn't blame her. If she had been alive, she probably would have given in a good beating, a good knock the head to wake him up from all this foolishness.

"God damn you all!" He sobbed, his voice breaking on the last word. All? Who was this all he spoke of? There was no one. No one! "I can handle this!"

Mary laughed again, rocking back slightly, her brown eyes glimmering wickedly. "You lout!" It was almost like old times, her calling him names, him calling her one back, but this was meant to insult him and he knew it. His heart hurt. "Always tearing down when you could be building things up. Or building yourself up, if nothing else!" Her words were wise as always, but he only saw the burn in them – the hurt. He just wanted her to go away. She was dead. He would never hold her in his arms again. He would never laugh with her again. He would never see her smile or frown or cry or anything again. She was dead!

Why was she here then?

"Just leave me be!" He begged of her.

"Change course, Edward!" She screamed above the storm, her voice becoming a raging storm of its own. It drowned everything else out, the storm, the waves, the rain. He only heard her voice, screaming at him, begging him, pleading with him. "Change your bloody course before it's too late!"

"LEAVE. ME. BE!"

And just like that his ship crashed and he blacked out.

"…up….get…are…you…?" The words faded in and out and Edward opened his eyes and looked up at Adewale. He had not seen him in some time and he sat up gingerly, his head pounding with the worse hangover he ever had experienced. "Captain Kenway. You look like a bowl of plum duff!" He could hear the joke in his voice, but Edward knew he looked like hell.

"Christ, I've got a head for ten" He grumbled. Ade offered him his hand.

"On your feet" He pulled him up and clasped his shoulder, grinning widely. He nodded slightly, getting his bearings. He was on a beach by the docks in Kingston. He never left after Mary's death. He had spent months hoping to forget she had ever been in his life. It hadn't worked. It just made her ghost attack him and now he felt like a right bag of shite.

Still…

"You put me on a spot, Ade. After you leaving me with Roberts, I should have hard feelings about seeing you here." Ade's expression became wary. "But mostly, I'm bloody glad"

"Me too, breddah" He motioned towards the port and he followed his hand. "And you'll be chuffed to know your Jackdaw is still in one piece"

Edward could have cried seeing his ship in the port. He wanted to hug Ade he was so overcome with joy to have his Quartermaster back, his ship back, his life was getting back on track. Now all he had to do was make amend again with Mary – oh…that thought hurt. He swallowed the pain though, shoving it away.

"Shall we set sail for-" He stopped noticing Ade was walking away from him. "You're leaving?"

"Aye, Edward. For I've another calling elsewhere" He sounded so proud of that. Edward just looked at him.

"Ade…listen" He had to apologize for everything he had done and said and how foolish he had been. He should have never chased after the Observatory.

"When your heart and your head are ready, visit the Assassins. I think you'll understand then…" Then he walked away, leaving Edward standing on the beach. He turned towards where his ship was docked, feeling his heart at least lighten a little. He at least had his ship back. That was one step forward.

He joined the Assassins and found Anne Bonny among them. She had lost her child a few days after his birth. He comforted her but…it was clear his heart was hurting just as much. They were both so broken, having lost everyone they loved. He didn't know what he wanted to do now, but the Assassins guided him, trained him and he spent months among them, training in fighting, in sneaking and in different weapons and tactics.

It was early May before he felt ready to go after the first of his three major targets – Woodes Rodgers. It was the day before he was set to leave and well…He had something important he had to do before going.

The grove was far off from the rest of the village. It was a peaceful, albeit lonely spot. A large tree hung over the spot, but flowers still bloomed here. They were bright blue, a sign of hope Edward thought. He sat down in front of the stone marker, right overtop where she would be. The grave was a simple one. All it said on it was:

Mary Read
1691 – 1720

He touched her name very gently, tracing it, feeling a lump in his throat. He had heard her last words and they stayed with him – she stayed with him but he still felt as if there were things unsaid between them. He did not think he would ever be returning to Tulum so he had to say them now. He took a deep breath and was surprised when he didn't choke.

"Well…here I am Mary. I'm doing right by you. It may be a little late, but it's better than never right? Christ…I miss you, so much. It's been months now, nearly a year since you left me but, I miss you. Every day. I understand now what you said when you said you loved a dead man. I love you Mary, I still do. It hurts, every day. But it's my own fault you know? Well, what am I saying? Of course you know. You always knew. You knew I was a selfish bastard and yet…yet you loved me anyway. I was a lucky man. I was a damn lucky man and I wasted it. I wasted you and I'm….I'm so sorry Mary. If I got a chance to do it all over, I'd do it differently. I would…I would find a way to…

"You know, I think you'd be proud of how wise I've gotten in a few short months. Like for one thing, I know you just wanted to be happy. I realize that now. You were so desperate to find some sort of happiness in this life and I failed you. I'm sorry Mary. I hope you have found peace down there among the dead, with James, with your child, with everyone you had loved and lost. Someday I'll see you again. It won't be for a long time, but I hope you don't forget me until then. God knows I won't forget you"

He wiped the tears from his cheeks and stood there just staring down at her. It almost felt like she was there with him. She almost felt him take his hand and squeeze it. He could have sworn if he looked to his right, she would be there smiling, shaking her head at his tears. She would have probably laughed and told him to man up and that he had a job to do. He sighed, shoulders sagging a little and smiled. Yes, she was with him. She always would be.

"How does it feel to bark so loud?" Edward asked Anne. She was his new Quartermaster. Some men questioned that, but she was a fierce woman and no one would question it to her directly. She smiled at him, finding joy in sailing.

"I've barked louder, and to men twice as rough" She laughed.

"Tending to the bar at the Old Avery, you mean?"

"Among other places" She gave him a grin and it was his turn to laugh. "And I sailed with Mary and Rackham for a time, remember?"

That brought him up short. Mary…He had said his goodbye to her at least. He missed her sharply yet. He spent a lot of time thinking over the last few minutes of her life. He wished had gotten there just a little earlier, just a day, two days…it could have made all of the difference. Perhaps it would be her by his side instead of Anne. He would never know though.

"Of course" He said softly.

"Mary did most of the captaining. Jack did most of the drinking" She sighed, shaking her head. Edward wanted to ask her a question, but he was almost afraid of the answer.

"Did Mary…did she ever tell you who it was that fathered her child?"

"Well…" Anne was brought up short and she frowned slightly. "She did marry a young fella – Daniel – who sailed with us on the last voyage but…But if I'm to be truthful Edward, I think there is very little chance that Daniel was her child's father. It had to be someone else – someone she was with before him." Edward was silent, waiting to see if she had any other known lovers. "There's only one I know about – you"

"Edward…Edward…listen…please…my child, my daughter….Her hair…was just like – Ah!"

Her hair was just like yours? Was that what she was trying to say?

"Please…find her"

She had begged that of him. He nodded softly to himself, promising that he would try to find her. They probably put her in an orphanage if she was still alive. He would ask the Assassins to help him. They would because after all it was Mary's child. Many were found of Mary. She had been a good person – a good Assassin. He was sure they would help without question. He was sure they'd help him find out what had become of Mary's child…perhaps his and Mary's child. He wasn't going to jump to conclusions yet though.

"Anne, what did…what did her husband look like?" he asked, curious.

"Oh, dark hair – dark as her's. He had the lightest brown eyes though. Quite unusual. I think that was what caught Mary's attention" She shrugged. "Why?"

"Just wondering."

And they moved on to talk about other subjects, better subjects, subjects that didn't have such sharp points.

He killed Rodgers and Roberts and then Torres finally. He killed them all, feeling no better than when he started. His heart had a heavy hole punched straight into it. Mary would have been proud of him – or so he liked to think. He felt a little better though, a little…cleaner. He was doing right by her now. He'd go home and do right by his wife finally. Except he found that she had passed away…years ago. He received a reply to his letter – written by his nine year old daughter. That was another punch to the heart, a hole straight through. His wife, Mary, the women he loved so…gone.

Still, he had sent a letter back requesting that if she liked to meet him, she come to his cove. Then he went there and waited. He brought the Assassins with him and they stood, looking it over. Edward walked over to Ah Tabai and smiled.

"Gentlemen! How do you find it here?" He asked.

"It will work for us. But our goal must be to scatter our operations. To live and work among the people we protect, just as Altair Ibn La-Ahad once counseled." Ah Tabai replied, looking about the cove. They stood in front of the manor. Not far from them was the table where he had once fallen asleep with a whore on. Mary had woken him, giving him a terribly sour look. Sadly, he missed those sour looks she could give. They had always either made him laugh or given him pause.

"Well until that time, it's yours as you see fit" He smiled, but that smile faded as he thought of how to breech his next subject. "And now…I'd like to speak to you about Mary's child"

"What is it?"

"Have you found any word of where she might be?"

"None so far. We have to follow the trail we have been left. We're talking to the different doctors who might have overseen her birthing. If we can find the one, he might know what happened to the child."

"And when you find her…"

"We'll contact you, Edward. Right away."

"She'd be over a year old now" Edward muttered.

"If she is still alive" Ah Tabai agreed. Edward lowered his eyes. Yes, he might have to tell his daughter – Jenny – that he had another daughter someday. It wasn't something he looked forward to admitting to his estranged daughter, but if it was the truth…Well it was the truth. Besides, if he was the father to Mary's child, he would like to give her a proper life.

He spoke to all them a bit more and ended with speaking to Anne. He encouraged her to come with him, but she told him she would stay. Eventually he saw the ship come into port and he walked away. He stopped, briefly looking at a table with his crewmen at it. For a moment, they didn't look themselves – they looked like all the friends he had lost.

Thatch, Hornigold, Vane, Rackham, Bonnet….Mary. She looked towards him, her cup in her hand. Her brown eyes met his for one second, giving him a challenging look. It was almost as if she were saying "So you're a father now, are you Kenway?" It was enough to give him pause. Yes, Mary would want him to be a good father to his daughter. He would be a good father now, he had to be. His heart ached something fierce, aching for Mary to be walking down the steps with him, but he went on alone. He stopped to pick a flower for his daughter when he heard someone call.

"Wait! Edward! Wait!" It was Anne, running down the stairs, something clutched in her hands. "You should have this." She held out her hand and Edward knew the object at once.

It was on a worn golden chain. Mary never took it off. It was a charm, she had said. She wore it to remind her of home. He took it with a shaking hand from Anne. "Where did you get it..? When…?"

"Mary gave it to me." She told him softly, crossing her arms lightly. "After…after she had her child. I think she wanted you to have it, but she gave it to me because she knew she didn't have much time left. She feared she'd pass before you'd come. She wanted you to have I though. I can feel it in my heart"

"Thank you Anne" He whispered, a lump forming in his throat. Carefully it put it around his own neck; the chain was long enough that it bounced against his chest. He tucked it under his shirt and walked away, feeling the warm metal against his skin.

Part III:
Let Them Go
Edward Kenway

It had been two years since coming to London. He had avenged Caroline's death by killing her father and the other Templars that had burned Edward's farm so many years ago. Of course, his own mother had disowned him in the process. That had hurt, much more than he would ever admit. But, he and Jenny were making a new life for themselves here in London. He already had many contacts, including the Assassins here, and he already lived in quite the nice house. Jenny was receiving a wonderful education and was a bright girl. She had decided that she preferred to go by Jennifer Scott rather than Jennifer Kenway. Edward allowed it since she had mostly been raised by her mother. It made sense. He was also teaching her about the Assassins, allowing her to either choose to become one of them or to just help them or not at all. It was her choice.

But today, he was doing something completely different. He was ready to let all the ghosts go. He had spent the last two years establishing himself here, but now it was time to take care of a final bit of business. Personal business, that was. He had to do this, he had to let them go.

The address was easy to find. It was carved right on the key that was on the chain. The charm she had carried around was a key, to a house. A lovely house right by the port, with a few nice houses as neighbors. Edward had a feeling he knew what he'd find inside but he went anyway. This was the final chapter. He needed to see it, to go inside, to see her ghost one last time before facing the future with the past's door firmly closed behind him.

He walked up the steps and unlocked the door. He stepped inside to a well-kept house. It was beautiful and obviously cleaned often because it had been abandoned well over ten years ago. He shut the door gently behind him, tucking the key back under his shirt. He stood there in the entry hall; he could see some steps down the hall with a doorway underneath them. He could almost see a much younger Mary running down the hall, even in a skirt. Her hands would be holding the skirt up as she ran, her longer hair let down and waving behind her.

"James! I love it! It's perfect! Absolutely perfect!" She would call, spinning to face the door where he would be waiting for her.

"I knew you'd love it!" He would call back and he would hurry forward to embrace her before they both ran up the steps, her so excited explore her new home.

He followed the ghosts up the stairs, as if he were watching a scene from the past. He walked down the hall and opened the third door, seeing that it was a bedroom, the sheets fresh and clean as if freshly changed. It was much to her taste, he would think. It was simple, but lovely at the same time.

"This is our room? James, it's lovely! How did you know exactly how I'd want it?" She would be standing near the dresser, running her fingers softly against the dark wood. Her brown eyes would flash up to look up at her husband.

"Because I know you Mary"

Edward hadn't known her that well. He walked into the room, looking at some books that were lying about. They had some dust on them now. He didn't touch them though, they looked as if they hadn't been touched in years and he couldn't bear to disturb anything of her's. He walked out the room and to the room across the hall. He stopped in his tracks, his heart jumping into his throat. He had not expected to find this room but he shouldn't have really been surprised.

"What do you think we'll have? A boy or a girl?" Mary's hands would be resting on her stomach, gazing downward at it, a tranquil smile on her face – a smile Edward had never truly seen on her.

"As long as both you and the baby are healthy and happy, I don't care" And her husband would be kneeling before her, both his hands over hers, his ear on her stomach, listening to the soft sounds of growing life within.

It was a nursery. The room he found was a nursery for the child they had made. There was still a crib and a toy chest and other such things in the room. He walked back out, shutting the door. He was done with these ghosts! He was a fool to think it was wise to come here! All he was finding was pain and no relief, no way to close the door! He walked back to the step and stopped, seeing what he thought was another ghost, but no this person was all too real.

"Who are you?" She hissed, sounding so bold. Sounding so like her.

"Edward Kenway" He answered, coming slowly down the steps. The closer he got to the woman, the more sure he was. Her hair was more gray than black but her eyes were the same shade of brown. In fact she looked so much like her, he didn't know why he questioned it to begin with. "Am I wrong to assume you are Mrs. Read?"

"No you are not! Why are you in here?" She stood straight and tall. He drew the key out of his shirt again. Her eyes got wide. "Where did you get that?"

"I knew your daughter – Mary. She…she gave it to me." He swallowed hard. He couldn't think of her last moments without pain. He supposed it was only natural; he had loved her after all.

"And…and so she is dead then…" The woman seemed to deflate right there, leaning against the wall for support. "I knew it – I knew it in my heart for years now! Please, you must tell me what happened. I must know everything you know. Please, wait for me in the study…I…I need to make some tea. I need to calm my nerves" She motioned to a room off the first hallway and then she walked towards what Edward had to assume was the kitchen.

Edward went into the study but stopped his stomach dropping.

On the wall was a painting, a very large portrait. There was a man in the painting. Though his face was serious, the artist had captured the happiness dancing in his eyes. His eyes were a warm shade of blue and his hair was a very dark brown, nearly black but not quite so. He stood in a military uniform behind a woman seated in a chair. He had his one hand on the back of the chair, near the woman's head as if he couldn't bear to be far from her.

He walked closer to the painting, to get a better look at the woman. She wasn't smiling either but there was so much joy in her brown eyes that it looked as though her heart might burst from it. Her black hair was much longer than he had ever seen it, lying in a braid on her shoulder. She was wearing a lovely dress that was deep red in color. Her hands were placed just so on her stomach so one would notice the small swell of it.

Edward felt his heart cry out and he reached up to touch the woman's rosy cheek. "Mary…" He choked out her name, feeling tears run down his cheeks. He had never seen her so happy. He wished he had – he wished he could have made her eyes dance with such happiness. He placed one hand on his chest, over his painfully beating heart and he bowed his head, one hand still pressed against the painting.

He felt a sudden warmth from behind him, as if someone was wrapping their arms around him. That person took the hand that was on his chest, their fingers between his and rested the other hand on his stomach. He could feel their head resting on his back – where Mary's had rested that time long ago when they had comforted each other after the tragedies of their pasts. His tears slowed and stopped. She was still watching over him, even after all this time and that thought lightened his spirit.

"Thank you." He whispered.

The warmth left after that and he stepped back dropping his hand. He looked up at her painting and there seemed to be even more happiness in her gaze, her lips seemed to be turning up just slightly, as if on the verge of breaking into a smile. He smiled too, wiping the last of his tears away. He heard footsteps coming and turned to see her mother standing there with a tray with two tea cups on it. He smiled at her and she gave him a wary glance.

He was prepared for this, to tell her what happened to her daughter for he had just made peace with it all.

Yes, Mary was dead, but she would always be there. In his heart, in his mind, in his soul. He loved her and love didn't just die. It kept living, giving the remaining hope for the future. And for Edward Kenway's future, there was much hope.

And it was all thanks to the bravest women he had ever met, the second woman he could say he loved, and the ghost he was finally letting go of, Mary Read.

A/N: Alright, I wrote this as a canon ending to my fanfiction Hollowed Trust, but I think it could stand alone if needed. I just want to say I cried while writing this and if I didn't elicit tears out of any of you, I'm a crap writer. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it and I hope this was a satisfying conclusion to Mary's story and Edward's love for her. Thank you as always for reading. You guys are awesome.