A/N: Thank you to all those who went back and reread the last chapter - I'm sorry that the last update was an author's note informing you of the editing of a chapter, I never planned on posting a chapter and then regretting it therefore editing it the following day... so, once again I am so sorry. This chapter I hope has no major issues like the last! I have tried to comb through this chapter for any mistakes and I hope that I have managed to find them all... anyways... I did enjoy writing this chapter and I hope you can see why :) Enjoy my lovelies ^_^
- AshTree 13 xoxo
Chapter 8:
We arrived at Salt Lagoon with the rising sun at our backs, the crew in a joyous cheer for succeeding in a score of such magnitude and with the Jackdaw, Edwards' priceless Brig, refurnished with a set of brand new broadside cannons at Adéwalé's request. The mood was jubilant and the men talked about sharing pitchers of rum upon our arrival to shore, drinking the eventual night away with a woman to warm their bed that same evening. Nonetheless, while the crew chattered away sharing their laughter and satisfaction at their achievement, a grim cloud of exhaustion and misery hung over my head.
Since the incident at the plantation, Edward had not looked nor spoken a single word to me. If it wasn't for Adéwalé returning under the cover of darkness to retrieve me from the shores of the plantation, Edward would have abandoned me on the beach - his decision to remain was simply because he could not afford to lose his new Quartermaster... me, on the other hand, he no longer had any use for (if he even had any use for me prior to the argument.)
I hated the silence that fell between us. It was toxic.
More than that, I knew he was right and reviled that fact - I was a loose end, a distraction and despite the occasional praise and his almost constant flirtations, I was a nuisance to him and to his crew. I no longer belonged aboard this ship... then again, I never did.
Nor did I belong in Salt Lagoon in the company of Edward Thatch, James Kidd, Adéwalé and most certainly Edward Kenway, who were gathering around a small fire, toasting to their accomplishments.
"Here's to our Pirate Republic, Lads," Thatch said, passing Edward a bottle of alcohol in which he immediately guzzled down. "We're prosperous," Thatch continues, raising his own grey-blue bottle to the red-tinged sky in celebration, "and free, and out of the reach of Kings, Clergy, and debt collectors."
All pirates chuckled at the last addition to Thatch's short celebratory speech but it was clear they all concurred with the older man. Waving his bottle in agreement, Edward settles beside Thatch on the white-gold sand of the Salt Lagoon beach, settling himself as close as he could to the fire and as far away from me as he could achieve without hinting at our quarrel.
The last thing Edward had said to me prior to getting off the ship was to not breathe a word of our argument, that he would deal with me later and like the obedient little girl I had become, I nodded my head in compliance before boarding the small rowboat commanded by his Quartermaster. Not even Adéwalé was aware of our argument and although he could see that something wasn't quite right between the pair of us, he, like the good Quartermaster he was and like a gentleman, did not pry.
For that, I was thankful.
I felt that if I were to explain to Adéwalé what had occurred, I wouldn't be able to keep my composure. However, when Adéwalé settled himself opposite from Edward, beside Kidd, I followed and joined him on the sand, pulling my leather-clad legs to my chest. Resting my chin in-between my knees, I choose instead to watch the flickering orange-red flames than meet Edward's cold gaze, listening to the pirates discuss Nassau, their Republic.
"Near five-hundred men now pledge their allegiance to the Brethren of the Coast in Nassau," Kidd informs our small party, a wry grin tugging at his lips, "not a bad number."
"Truth," Thatch yells, leaning back against the mossy log behind his lean back. He pauses to take a swig of alcohol, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his embroidered jacket before looking amongst us; a hint of concern in his murky-grey eyes, "yet we lack sturdy defences. If the King were to attack the town, he'd trample us."
"Why would the King attack Nassau?" I find myself asking but instantly regretting the action the moment Edward, Thatch and Kidd turn their attention to me – the latter two with identical expressions of amusement at my somewhat foolish question.
"It's a pirate colony, young lady," Thatch tells me, his voice laced with mirth, "if the King wanted to rid the seas of pirates – and God knows he does – then all he'd have to do would send his Navy to attack the shores of our Pirate Republic. Destroy Nassau and poof! No more pirates."
"I… it was a stupid question," I admit at a mumble, briefly meeting Edward's blank stare, which he immediately breaks. I've screwed up, I think miserably, blinking back tears, but that does not mean I will cry… not in front of them, I refuse too.
I don't cry.
The only time I did was when I had my panic attacks – like at Cape Bonavista when Edward and I had first met – or when I was alone. Even with Desmond, Shaun and Rebecca, who were amongst my closest friends, family really, I rarely showed them my tears.
I do not need the pity.
"Then let us find the Observatory," Edward was suggesting when I tuned back into the conversation at hand, "if it does what the Templars claim, we'll be unbeatable."
"Not that twaddle again, Kenway!" Thatch growls, glaring at the younger man with irritation, "that's a story for schoolboys. I meant proper defences."
I watch Edward seethe in anger at the scolding but the man wisely remains silent – even an outsider like me could tell that Thatch held the authority between the five of us and Edward obviously had the sense not to challenge that power. I assume it was partially out of respect for the older man; Edward Thatch did have quite the reputation as a pirate and was no doubt one of the most successful and notorious pirates sailing the Caribbean. He probably had a king-sized bounty on his head and was more than a little wealthy on stockpiled treasure; perhaps Thatch was a figure for Edward to look up to.
I mean, even pirates have role models.
Then again, it could simply be fear that stopped Edward from incurring Thatch's fury.
"What's your fine plan then?" Edward asks, getting back on his feet and pacing the length of our small circle, stopping behind my stooped form and offering me a sip of his drink to my astonishment.
It's an act, I tell myself, shaking my head in decline.
"Steal a Galleon," Thatch says as if it was the most obvious answer to Kenway's inquiry, watching our humble interaction, "shift all the guns to one side. Would make a nice ornament for one of our harbours… if the girl doesn't want that liquid gold, I'll take it off your hands, Kenway."
"It will not be easy to steal a full Spanish Galleon," Adéwalé points out with a quick shake of his head, studying the experienced pirate as Edward passes him the half-full bottle. "Have you one in mind?" Adéwalé continues, a smile gracing his full lips as he watches Thatch guzzle down the rest of his rum in his newly acquired bottle.
"I do, sir. And I'll show you," Thatch replies with a slight slur, examining his empty bottle lazily as he draws out the remainder of his answer, "she's a Fussock she is. Fat and slow."
"Do we have a plan?" Edward inquires, as the rest of us slowly get to our feet, dusting sand off our breeches, ready for our pursuit of the Spanish Ship which would protect Nassau's existence… that is, if the mission was successful.
"I'm staying out of this one," Kidd says, keeping his seat by the warm fire, "I've got other fish to fry but you gents enjoy yourselves… don't get yourselves killed."
"Please," Edward scoffs, handing another bottle to the lounging boy, "who do you think we are?"
"A bunch of fatheaded idiots," Kidd replies with a chuckle. He takes a quick gulp of the brown-gold liquid before turning his attention to me, locating my hovering form behind Adéwalé's bulky figure, "how about you lass? You want to keep me company?" He says it with a wink and the hint of a flirtatious smirk, raising his bottle and patting the empty space beside him invitingly.
"I-"
"Lay off, Kidd," Edward barks, grabbing my hand and towing my hesitant body away before James and I even have a chance to think up a reply. However, maybe it's the fact he's interacting with me after ignoring me for what felt like hours – and it probably had been hours – or maybe it was the simple fact that I was in shock over his abrupt shift of manner, but I find myself allowing Edward to drag me along towards the Jackdaw in lieu of Thatch and Adéwalé.
The two wait beside the little rowboat, which will escort them to the safety of the larger vessel. "Hurry it up, Kenway, we don't have all day!" Thatch calls out to us, rolling his eyes in exasperation at our slow pace. However, I can't help the way my body weighs us down like lead because it is the shock that weighs me down and my body is numb with it.
Finally coming to my senses, I dig my heels into the ground and tear my hand from Edwards', screaming for him to 'wait' and to 'stop.' My face begins to turn rosy in colour as a mix of confusion, anger, regret and joy fill my body to capacity. My body now a concoction of emotion of which were difficult to distinguish from one another, particularly when the source of my complexity was standing before me, gazing at me with his own expression mixed with puzzlement and remorse yet obeying my request to stay put whilst I sorted through my muddled thoughts.
"We'll catch up later, Thatch," Edward replies, calling over his shoulder at the two men who wait impatiently for us to join them, "Adéwalé, take him aboard the Jackdaw, if you'd please."
"Aye, captain," came the expected response.
Turning his attention back to me, Edward patiently waits for me to look up at him before he speaks again, this time his voice soft and very gentle, "Tess… I'm not going to do anything to you… so… can we… talk?
Briefly, I wonder why he speaks to me so soothingly and it is only when I taste the salty tang of my tears that I realise he can see my distress highlighted by the tears trickling down my cheeks.
Looks like I broke my 'I don't cry' promise.
"I'm so sorry," I sob, unable to look the daunting pirate in the eye as I do so, afraid of what I might find in their azure depths, "you were right, I am a loose end. I'm a burden. How could I think that we could be partners, that we might benefit one another when I can't do my part?"
"Tessa, I-"
"I want to help," I interrupt, hiccupping as the flow of my tears increases, blurring my vision and damping my face further, turning it beet-red from the frustration, sadness and embarrassment that consumes me, "I just wanted to help but like always, I get in the way… I screw up!"
"Tess-"
"I don't know what I'm doing," I interject once again, wiping my sleeve across my sore eyes in an attempt to dry my face but the action is futile as the waterworks continue to plague me. "I thought I could handle this," I blubber as I sniff and hiccup, Edward becoming blurrier each time I try to blink back the tears, "but I can't. I can't do this. If I go with you, I'll only get in the way and I'll be a burden once again and I can't-"
"For God's sake, Tess," Edward yells, this time interrupting me.
My eyes widen at his sudden proximity. He leans towards me, one hand cupping my face, his thumb brushing away the tears that continue to fall down my face. His other rests at my waist, holding my trembling body close in what is both for support and for comfort – he is close enough to hug me and when he does, dropping his hand from my face and placing it on my waist to pull me close, the comforting action causes my body to stiffen in disbelief.
It seems today is full of surprises – the foreign action causes my head to spin and my vision to blur as the tears begin to once again cloud my vision. I know I should pull away, that this is wrong, but I cannot.
I need the contact.
I need the comfort.
Allowing myself to relax into his tender embrace, I grant my tears jurisdiction to fall swifter than before, burying my face in his shoulder as I cry, releasing all the pent-up emotions that had been plagued me since the day I awoke upon the shores of Cape Bonavista. In all honesty, it was nice to have someone simply hold me in a welcome embrace, to show me that they cared. To have someone run their fingers through my hair, to have someone murmur gentle soothings into my ear, holding my body close to theirs, permitting me to breakdown and let everything go. It was the sweetest poison and I desired it above all else.
Edward had understood that fact.
Maybe the idiot wasn't as blind as I thought.
My body continues to shake even after I have spent all of my tears. He continues to play with my hair, curling strands around his coarse fingers, chin resting upon the crown of my head as he patiently waits for me to finish, to exhaust myself and my tears. When Edward feels that I am spent, he gently pulls away and with concerned eyes, examines my tear-stained face, his fingers ghosting across my cheekbones as he does. "Better?" he asks without a hint of mockery.
"I'm sorry," I repeat, wiping away the last of my tears, still unable to look him directly in the eye, "I'm sorry for everything. For the fight at the plantation, for my stupidity... for ruining your shirt..."
Barking a short laugh, Edward shakes his head at my apology. "No, I am sorry," he says, grasping my chin and tilting it upwards so that my eyes can finally meet his, their depths filled with regret and an intensity I couldn't place, "I shouldn't have said those things to you. It was a cruel way to repay your kindness... and the shirt can be fixed, Tess."
"But you were right," I insist, gripping the front of his robes as I do so, desperate for him to understand where I was coming from and that I didn't blame him for what had just occurred, "I don't know how to protect myself and as a result of that, when I try to assist you, I only end up getting in the way. I was just..." I pause, trying to think of an appropriate word, "sick of feeling useless... of being left behind because I can't do anything to aid you."
"But I didn't give you a chance to try," he reminds me, bowing his head in apology, those beautiful grey-blue eyes of his locked upon the gold sand of the beach, bathed red in the glow of the rising sun, "and for that, I am truly sorry."
"No, I'm sorry-" I start.
"Tess, just let me apologise-" Edward interrupts.
"Only if you let me apologise!" I argue, glaring at the pirate as we come to a stalemate.
And just as suddenly as the argument began, the pair of us dissolve into laughter upon realising just how ridiculous the argument in question had become.
I find that I like the sound of Edward's laugh, the rough, deep chortle that is in every-way genuine and full of mirth. Of course, I'd heard Edward laugh before but it had never been what one might call a 'true' laugh - a laugh like that came from the heart, was not forced and was shared with another who shared in the hilarity of the situation. His laugh was nice, warm and was thoroughly enjoyable to the ear. Aware of the burning in my cheeks, I snap my mouth shut and hastily turn my face away from Edwards' sharp but confused gaze, placing one of my cool hands against the flushed skin in bewilderment as a warm, somewhat 'fuzzy' feeling rears its head within me.
After the overwhelming flood of emotions that had hit me earlier, this emotion was easy to identify from the disordered chaos that was my mind. However, the longer I considered the emotion in question, the more nauseous and disgusted I became with myself for experiencing the tempting, poisonous thought.
Stop it, I scold myself, biting my bottom lip as I do, you barely know him... it's wrong! Besides that, you made a promise to yourself. You cannot - will not - under any circumstances feel that for anyone other than-
"Tessa? Are you well?"
Shaking me out of my thoughts, I turn back to Edward and allow a small, reassuring smile to grace my lips despite every instinct in my body telling me to flee from the captivating man. "I'm okay," I tell him, folding my arms around my torso as a form of comfort, "but I could, understandably, be better."
"This misunderstanding between us..." Edward begins slowly, his eyes flickering out towards the horizon where he watches the golden orb of the sun rise, it's expanding rays of light stretching across the now orange-red sea, "it's been cleared up?"
"Um... I suppose so," I agree, albeit uncertainly.
"I didn't mean the things I said," he insists, his expression begging for me to understand his reasons for his unfavourable actions from the previous night, "I feel responsible for you, you see and you were putting yourself at risk to help me... That day, at Cape Bonavista, I made a promise to you-"
"A promise you kept," I remind him, touching his shoulder but pulling away the moment my fingers begin to tingle, "you got me to Havana... and after that, you continued to look after me despite the fact I was no longer your concern. For that, you have my thanks and all that I have done to repay that thanks is be in your way."
"You're never in my way Tess," Edward assures me softly, moving his hand to cup my cheek once again, "remember that. What I said last night... they were lies fuelled by... by..."
"By?"
"I want to protect you," he admits.
"That means a lot," I say, moving away from his touch, "but it won't do."
"Tess?"
"I want you to teach me," I inform him and at his confused look, I emphasise my reply, "I want to learn how to defend myself... I took fencing as a child but I wasn't particularly good at it and quit after a few lessons..."
I also learnt how to shoot rabbits, but Edward doesn't need to know that... besides, the guns of this era are very different from the ones I learnt to handle and load.
"You want me to teach you?"
"Yes," I answer, my reply firm without a hint of doubt. I look him directly in his blue eyes and nod my head, raising my chin in a show of confidence, "I don't want to learn how to kill but to defend myself... will you do it?"
"... are you sure?" he inquires after a short pause of consideration. "It is not an easy task, to learn how to defend ones self," he warns me but it falls on deaf ears.
"Please," facing him, the rising sun against my back, I bow my head before him and wait patiently for his reply.
Silence.
The only sound being the distant cry of seagulls and the celebrations of drunken pirates upon the beach.
"Fine," he eventually agrees to my delighted surprise, "but we do this my way."
"Thank you... and Kenway?"
"Yes, Tess?"
"It's Tessa," I tell him with a quick and no doubt cheeky grin.
0-0-0-0-0-0
"What are you planning, Kenway?"
Sparing a quick glance over his shoulder to see James Kidd at his back, Edward accepts the almost empty bottle of alcohol his mate offers, taking a hearty swing before returning his gaze to the sunrise, bathing in the soft glow of the new dawn."No plan, Kidd," he informs the boy, handing back the empty bottle, "I just don't want to see her cry again."
"Do you-"
"No," he cuts the younger man off before he can complete the sentence, his gut twisting at the words, betrayal weighing heavily on his shoulders, "I have a wife."
"Better not repeat that," Kidd warns him, now side-by-side to Edward, "besides... you and I both know that doesn't matter. If a pirate wants something, then we take it, no matter the repercussions."
"I-"
"Don't deny it Kenway, you can barely take your eyes off her."
"I feel responsible for her," repeating to Kidd the same lie he had told the woman in question prior to this engagement, "she is merely a... job... and I can't take my eyes off lest she get herself into trouble."
"Believe it or not, Theresa can handle herself," Kidd tells the older man, watching the red-haired girl stroll towards the shoreline perhaps waiting for Edward to join her so they could be on their way, only to pause at the incoming waves, bending down to pick up what appears to be a shell from the grainy sand, "she doesn't need you to be there constantly looking over her shoulder."
"But I-"
"I know, I know," Kidd says, cutting off Edward before he can repeat his earlier explanation, "you feel responsible for her... you have to admit, however, that she is beautiful."
How could he deny that?
Fair, unblemished ivory skin that could easily burn beneath the brutal Caribbean sun. Hair like fire that hung in waves when unbraided to her waist, so soft to the touch it felt like water running through his fingers each time he played with a loose strand. Eyes that were simply green to others but the colour of the sea to him - both green and blue no matter what the lighting - and lips that were full, red and deliciously plump; dangerously kissable.
She was - in every sense of the world - perfection. The Spanish Soldier who had tried to assault her aboard Torres's fleet had not been wrong, she was a beauty. The bastard.
"Stay away from her, Kidd," he warns the young man, sparing a quick glare in the youth's general direction.
"She's not my type," Kidd answers, raising his hands in surrender, "and besides, it's just fun to flirt with her."
Cue Edward's grunt in reply.
"If you don't have feelings for her Kenway, then you better close you mouth," Kidd snickers after a momentary pause, slugging Edward's shoulder as he passes by the taller man upon returning to the warmth of the fire, "you're beginning to drool."