Buried Treasure

by AceTrent

Edward Kenway had plenty of precious things in his life. But the treasures he found to be most true and priceless were the ones, he realized, were already gone and buried. A Kiddway epic.

10. Part 1, Chapter 8

Part I, Chapter 8

May to July, 1712

What would be the same, and what would be different?

The latter question tugged more at Edward's mind during the weeks-long journey from Britain to the West Indies. Pondering the changes made it easy to fall asleep. It distracted him from the inconvenience of being was crammed with the rest of the crew in these bunks, not unlike his parents' sheep. Thinking about it also got his mind off the occasional seasickness he didn't want anyone finding out about and making fun of him for.

Rather predictably, the first thing he'd observed about the difference between the two places was the change in the temperature, gradual as it was. He found himself wearing less and less articles of clothing the further along they got on their journey. Then he'd thought his blonde hair was stiffening as a result of not washing it so often. After multiple rounds of lathering and rinsing, however, he decided that the change in texture was due to the increasing humidity, and, as a result, he started tying the now shoulder-length locks back to stop it from being a bother.

Sunrise seemed to have occurred later, and sunsets a little earlier, despite it approaching summer. One crewman with a penchant for the natural sciences had explained to him that this was because they were getting closer to the middle of the world, but Edward stopped listening a few minutes into his talking and, when he became aware that he was expected to answer a question, he responded, "Mate, it don't matter in the end."

Concerning the climate, he thought he would get away from the rain and gloomy weather he was so familiar with. He voiced looking forward to perpetual sun, but the others aboard, particularly those who had been to the West Indies before, only laughed, "Yer in fer more rain, lad. Given, it ain't so dull as back there, but yer mistaken if ye think it don't rain much in the tropics."

How humiliating! Surely he should have a good idea what their destination was like, "Aye, I'm aware it sometimes rains there. A pound to a penny that even the driest regions of Africa meet a few drops every so often. I'm just looking forward to more sun is all."

Since the scientist crewman had kept quiet, Edward assumed that it did indeed rain even in the driest areas of Africa.

In addition, there was all the green that those who had been to the West Indies spoke of. Britain boasted acres upon acres of mystical forests, but the leaves of the tropics felt foreign. Exotic. Every bit of shade they provided was actually appreciated. And adding to the unfamiliar but welcome ambience was the wildlife inhabiting the jungles, they said: that the birds were as colorful as rainbows, that the alligators could kill you in one bite, and that the fish were so diverse that counting the types of them was like counting the stars.

Edward also eagerly anticipated becoming a fighter and sailor without equal. Sometimes, when the other crew wasn't looking, he would practice his left-hand swordsmanship. Later in the journey, he would use a sword in each hand in his solitary practice. Then in battle he began to implement the self-taught technique, although at first it was tricky. He would use his left hand primarily for defense and his right as offense, but in time he was able to alternate. He could even block attacks from behind, as he could somehow sense when someone was about to strike, without taking his eyes off the foe in front of him. The captain, a stocky man whose surname was Harrison, noticed this quick improvement, and he even complimented Edward personally, in front of the other crewmembers, "Among those I've seen swing two blades about, you do it with the most grace," he said. Some of the crew called him "Two-sword Kenway" after that.

Captain Harrison's ship was HMS Glory, and Edward imagined that there were a handful of ships by that name. The crew respected Harrison, not because he appeared particularly fearsome or intelligent, but because he would get them to the West Indies in one piece. The gent was good at dodging the larger Spanish galleons and he only went after the weaker ships, to Edward's distaste. He thought the captain should engage in battle more often and against tougher adversaries, so that the crew got a good taste of what it was like to truly privateer.

Edward thought himself more suited for captaining than for fixing the rigging and firing cannons. If he were captain, he could command the men who, being mere sailors together, would be vulgar to him. Captain Kenway would not allow taking another man's right to work aboard a ship at peace with his fellow crewmembers. But his strategies for naval battle were still quite amateur. Other captains were far more strategic. If I had a better-equipped ship, we'll see who prevails, he would think, nonetheless.

Naturally, the budding privateer looked most forward to rising in the ranks and making a fortune, which would enable him to own the finer goods back in Britain. In the meantime, he'd enjoy building his reputation, sailing, fighting, and hitting the bottle.

Not only were there things to look forward to: Edward was glad to leave behind what he did. For years he had felt ready to leave home, and his long-established ambition to get away was finally fulfilled. His father wasn't around to yell at him for ruining their business. And it wasn't as if Bernard Kenway wanted him back any time soon, either. Linette, his mother, tried to stay out of the politics, only giving him a warning not to die out here. That, he rather appreciated, but when she'd also told him not to kill if it was possible, he'd been certain he couldn't keep such a promise.

In any case, that life was miles and miles away. Not long in the future, though, he would consider it years and months away. By time rather than distance.

He'd said adiós to all his rivals, and even the ladies who gave him coy looks as he walked down the roads. He'd left behind his crumbling hovel and the blasted farm.

Good riddance to it all!

Good riddance except, perhaps, Caroline. Early on in his journey to a far-away land did he resent leaving her, but he reminded himself that she had been the one to leave him, and he went back to thinking, All the buggers in and around Bristol and everywhere else I've lived- no, all of Britain- will envy me once I return a rich, distinguished man. The pathetic me who left that land is no longer. I'll earn her back. I'll not have to hear any more nagging, and I might finally get some respect from her dad.

Edward felt truly independent for once, leaving Britain for the first time and going so far, practically on his own since everyone on board was a stranger. It wouldn't have been a surprise to those that knew him that he thought he was at the top of the world, and that he quickly identified with the other young and self-assertive crew in their libertarianism. They'd whisper excitedly about how they needed no government, and they'd do so like young girls, in fear that Captain Harrison would think they weren't loyal to the crown. They didn't need any parents, wives, or anyone else to discourage him either, Edward thought. Just a strong yet friendly captain.

All in all, it was a very exciting time in his life. He wanted to reach the tropical islands as soon as possible in order to fulfill the rest of his dreams.

The perfect day, he imagined, would be if he got his own ravishing ship and captained his faithful, rowdy crew to a victory against the supposedly mightiest and richest vessel in these seas. Then they'd all celebrate the glory with rum and women, and he'd send word back to Bristol informing Caroline and her family that he'd be back a most successful seafarer, with plenty of stories to tell. Could it get much better than that?

He also thought, in jest, that he could send a letter to Caroline's father telling him that he'd hit William Kidd's treasure. The greedy bastard might come over here after Edward confirmed it with him in person over in England, and the man would spend the rest of his days searching for a treasure that doesn't exist or, even better, be killed right off by pirates! Then he and Caroline could live without being harassed. At this, he snorted and smiled. *

A couple weeks later, when they landed in the Bahamas, he spent the first day simply walking around the town and jungle, and the next swimming in the cooling water, thoroughly feeling the the foreign bark of the palm trees and the white sand on the beaches (the stories of white sand were true!). He ran through the trees, in part to get around the occasional stranger strolling through the jungle and partly to pretend he was stealthily hunting something on the ground. Some other men in the crew did the same elsewhere in the jungle. By the time they were to leave to do some real privateering, though, he was glad to leave it all behind for the chance to get some coin.

May, 1714

Edward didn't mind that his mates were captaining their own ships while he sat here tending to the linstocks under deck. Good for them! But what bothered him was when his fellow crewmen would talk about their ventures. Hornigold? Thatch? Vane? I know them personally- they would call me 'mate', even, he wanted to tell them, mostly to make himself impressive. But the first and last time he said this- he had been in another crew- the others had asked why he didn't sail with them, if they were such close friends, and he'd felt conflicted.

He had jumped from one crew to another over the months, and each seemed to have its own problems. In one, the crew had been so divided a mutiny occurred. In another he had spent only a month being a part of the team when they were sunk. The crew that attacked had accepted him into their gang, but he learned that their English captain had something against the Welsh and he had to make sure his speech had no traces of his original accent.

Sometimes his mates came up in conversation, but in the crew he was part of now, it seemed that they were talked about more often than they usually were. This time, two men in nearby bunks were talking about Thatch, and since the mention of 'Edward' naturally caught Edward's attention, he started listening.

"One day I'll sail with him and Ben Hornigold, his captain. Like Ed Thatch, he's tough, but in the more stricter 'by decree of the law' sense. He's determined, but," he held out his index finger for emphasis, "He's rather successful. Shapes you up to be a proper sailor and a proper fighter."

"Aye, though I hear he's not so keen on exploration, and he don't attack Her Majesty's fleet."

"I think he's more keen on it'n most people claim. If he's a leader of pirates, surely he's an explorer too. Either bloody way, it's the sea plunders that matter more. It ain't much an issue if he don't rob the English. In mine eye he's certainly a pirate, not a privateer."

"Right. Hornigold might be fine, but as I've mentioned the crazy bugger Edward Thatch is off his hinges, mate! Don't he drink the blood of his slain enemies?"

"That's what I hear, but it's another reason to want to sail with 'em. It oughta take balls o' steel to join them. And stay. But if you do, you must be in for the ride of your life!"

"Christ. You're insane, I think. Who's more of an inspiration, would you say? Thatch or Hornigold?"

Now Edward wanted to sail with Hornigold and Thatch too, not together as privateers anymore, but rather with all of them having their own pirate crews to command and make men of. This talk- gossip?- about them filled Edward with awe again and made him glad to have associated with the right people. Hornigold and Thatch were a good balance between having fun and getting to business. Thus they and their crew gained both skills and riches. They made an impressive duo.

It would be splendid when he'd get his own ship, perhaps by heroically taking the helm if the captain and helmsman were killed in a battle against man or nature. Then he'd claim the vessel for himself.

Maybe he'd pass by Hornigold or Kidd and they would compliment him for his achievement. Maybe it'd be a legendary ship he'd cross, and those aboard would flatter him, before he robbed and sank their sorry arses. He would make a fortune with that. It would be a near-perfect day.

Two years and I'd be back, I promised Caroline… She can wait a little longer.

---

July, 1717

Adéwale still had doubts about Edward's plans as the captain picked up a sack, filled mostly with food, from the steps to the upper deck, "Ah you sure you ah bound to discovuh more only months aftuh visiting de area?"

They began towards the Jackdaw's bow, passing cannons and crewmen, "I'd cleared the area of people as well. But there's something I'm hunting now, Adé, and it's led me here. In any case, there's always more to discover, aye?"

"Unduhstood, cap'n. But must you stay alone for two nights? I wish not to keep you waiting when you have been ready for a while. An' de crew may begin to call me captain!"

"Ahoy, cap'n Adéwale!" Tobias was having lunch on deck and heard the last bit of their conversation as they had passed by.

Edward snorted, "And I'd be quartermaster? Ya can't trust me with that duty, Adé!"

The darker man chuckled.

"I'm certain I can keep myself occupied if ever."

"Wid some rum, aye. Else, you go about in every direction, grumbling. Remembuh once we exhausted our supply of it on one of our long voyages, and you asked me if you could do something to help out, you wuh so bored? You asked me again a couple hours aftuh for something to do, and when I asked about the task I had given you, I found that you had not done it!"

"I'm not certain what made ya expect me to enjoy tallying our stock," He looked around discreetly, making sure no crewman might overhear what he'd say next, "Though, ya did kill my boredom the second time around." He was referring to Adé's suggestion that Edward speak to the crew, the underlying goal being to investigate any chance for mutiny. He said in a hushed tone, "They'd no idea the friendly conversations were in fact interviews!"

He considered also mentioning that he had, with his special sense, surveyed their belongings, but since he never discussed eagle vision with Adé, he decided not to now. Instead, he handed his bag to his quartermaster, walked along the Jackdaw's bow, and dropped to hang onto the wood by his hands. He then landed on the pebbly sand.

"I hope your pahticulahly good mood lasts even aftuh we return for you two days from now," Adé threw the sack over to his captain.

"Count on it," Edward smiled back, swinging the bag around his shoulder so that he carried the weight on his back. After Adé turned away to head back to the helm, he too pivoted and headed into the cave.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he thought he heard some shifting in the area to his right, where a wooden structure stood. He put the sack down on a rock sticking well out of the water, and went over to investigate. It could be Mary, or it could be someone else.

As he approached, he saw that the person wasn't familiar. The man was wearing a grey and black coat, and was dragging… a corpse into the corner? Was he a friend or foe?

Edward got even closer. He felt that violently confronting this gent wasn't ideal. Instead, he held a pistol behind his back, just in case, as he called from around a corner, "Hello!"

He heard the man yell from being startled.

"May I ask who ya are and what you're here for," he demanded more than asked.

"Edward! It's me," Mary chirped.

"Oh!" he placed his pistol back into its holster and stepped out from the corner, "Jaysus. Sorry, mate. Not used to seeing ya in that coat. And your hair!" It was tied up in a black, rather than a red, bandana. "The bandana's difficult to distinguish in the dark. I thought ya had hair no longer than my thumb."

"Ye deserve a prize or some'n fer actually givin' me a fright! Aye, I thought the black matched this coat. Yer special vision didn't tell ye I was familiar?"

He mentally winced, "Didn't try that," so he did so now.

"Aw! If ye've a gift, use it, man. Unless yer gift endangers innocents," she lightheartedly scolded, "Well, I hadn't no'iced ye either, so fair 'nuff. I was distracted."

He saw that she had a welcoming aura. She glowed a warm gold, like the precious metal. It fit her; important people beamed that color. "Aye, you're a friendly awright. Not some unknown lad dragging away bodies he's caused to be dead." Edward then frowned. He remembered that the people who glowed gold were usually those he was meant to kill. This he kept to himself.

"Hah! Well, with the former part o' tha' statement, not quite. It ain't a lad draggin' away bodies, but rather a lass. With the la'er, yer right, though: death at the 'and o' Mary Read. 'Em fellas'd nosed 'round while I was 'ere. I very kindly asked 'em to leave, but they weren't so obligin'. So, 'ere they are, quiet an' still," she motioned to the pile of corpses, "But not all of 'em are from yesterday. Thankfully the stench's gone from some bones I found. Clothin' seemed unsoiled, so it couldn't've been so long ago."

"That may have been my deed some time ago," Edward laughed, "Your work today will do excellently," he said gratefully. Now they had the place completely to themselves, and they could have a good time. However, Mary's drab attire didn't suit her, in his eye. "Ya know, I've a gift for ya. I'll come back shortly."

"Goin' to the mouth o' the den, are ye? While I stack more corpses, please take…" she reached behind her and threw something at him, "This."

"Shite! Jaysus!" he held it up by its hair. It was a severed head.

Mary laughed a little, "I 'ad to do 'at, sorry. An' take this," she lowered a double-edged wooden stake into his reach. On it was a sign: Keep Out.

"Uh, awright," he could guess what the task was, "Ya came prepared."

"Nah, I jus' used what's 'ere. I'll see ye in a moment."

So Mary resumed transporting the last of the bodies as Edward went back outside to drive the stake into the sand and twist the head onto the upper end of the sharpened wood. He returned to the scaffolding with the plain but large bag over his shoulder.

The sack caught Mary's curiosity, and she exclaimed delightedly when he took out a golden coat from within and threw it to her. She eagerly kneaded the fabric between her fingers, "Splendid! Mos' bloody splendid! It felt damn strange not wearin' it lately. Thanks! Ah, in exchange I'll grab yer map."

Edward followed her to the sandy area of the hidden cove, where tents from other visitors lay devastated, exposed over months to the elements through the opening above. Mary reached into her own sack and handed him the map he'd lent her earlier in the week to find this place. This he took gladly and tucked away in a pouch on his waist, as she shrugged out of her drab coat and draped the golden one around her in its place. Then she hung the first coat next to her, on a post supporting one of the tents. Edward looked up through the gap in the rocks, and found that it was cloudier than he remembered when weighing anchor.

"I still can't get it through me 'ead we're doin' this. Me crew was led to believe I've some mission 'ere, an' to leave me fer three nights."

"It ain't a lie. Ya do have important business to do here," Edward said with a growing smile.

Mary raised an eyebrow and removed the black bandana, letting loose her dark, wavy hair.

"Hm," he uttered tunefully, starting to feel aroused. He swiftly went to where she stood.

"Some'n urgent?"

He caught a glimpse of her starting to smile too when he cupped her cheek and pressed his lips on hers.

It was magical, Edward swore, the way touching her gave him energy and quickened his pulse, a mild version of the electricity mankind would use decades later. He soon became aware of her fingers clutching his hair as her other hand slid down his torso and tugged on the red sash across his waist. She pulled him even closer and stroked her tongue against his. He expected nothing less from a bold woman who was just as if not more determined than him to have a most excellent time.

He pulled away for a moment, "I'm sorry. We should have done this sooner."

"Shut up," they pulled each other close again by their collars.

Then she began to undo the holsters on his chest, and he tugged off her coat and threw it a couple feet over, on the post where her grey one hung. To his pleasure, it caught and stayed. "Sorry to make ya part with your coat again so soon."

"Oh, I don't much disapprove."

Still gripping the collar of Edward's shirt, Mary pulled him over to where she'd lay out cloth on the sand. Then, reaching the edge of the fabric, she bent down and pulled her lover with her onto it.

"So, are ya a virgin?" Edward asked teasingly as he moved down to kiss her neck.

"Tch. The 'Mary' gave it away, didn't it?"

"Ya know I'm merely messin' with ya," he laughed heartily.

"I know ye know 'at I know yer messin' with me."

Fair enough, his expression told her as he responded, "I didn't know that…."

They chuckled and, meanwhile, a few fat raindrops landed on them, creating uncomfortable moist splotches on their clothing.

"Hm," Edward commented and looked up again.

Then a light thunder rumbled.

"No way," groaned Mary.

When they got up to relocate, it began to pour.

"Jaysus!" he exclaimed, and they rushed to where the rain couldn't reach them through the opening.

The pirates flicked off the excess water from their clothes, but the fabric was still wet. Edward was sour at the weather ruining his seduction scheme, and he dropped his coat onto the sand with a sigh. Wondering why his shoulder stung after reaching backwards to take off the thing, he recalled getting injured in a duel. He looked at Mary to express his irritation, and he saw that as she too was taking off her weapons and, afterwards, her garments, she was much less bothered than he. She seemed to be enjoying the moment, actually, though she wouldn't look at him as they both took off their damp clothing. This actually works out wonderfully, doesn't it, he mused.

He kept his eyes on Mary as he kicked off his boots, and he was impressed at how well she hid it all. She did, in fact, have an ample bosom and fine waist, though her whole torso was made level by a wrap she kept underneath her shirt, as he could see inside her unbuttoned blouse. At the same time, she had an athletic physique. He didn't know women could have this kind of build: a lovely union of curvy and fit. It was no wonder how quickly she ran and how easily she held against men in battle. Complementing that strength with her wit, she was indeed deadly.

Though, Edward couldn't imagine being able to breathe under the binders. To think she had to dress a certain way every day, just to be able to have status among pirates… Pity she was denied the opportunity to flaunt that killer figure. On the other hand, he thought, that also meant that he was among a few to see her as she truly was, and he became shamelessly pleased at that.

"Mary," Edward pointed out, "I didn't bring extra clothing."

"Neither did I," she smirked and undid the binders beneath her shirt.

---

"Damn. You're… tall," Edward observed, his breathing slowing. He looked Mary up and down- left and right, rather- after she got off from above him and lay down beside him in the tent, out of the way of the rain.

"Thanks," she said, pleased, "Done fer now, are ye?" she took a breath, "Likwise," she thought about what she had noticed upon seeing his whole body, "Yer… rather tattoo-ed."

"Hmm," he nodded, then frowned, "Just how tall are ya?"

"Really. Ye've known me 'ow long, an' ye see only now 'at I'm tall," she chuckled and playfully hit his arm with the back of her hand, "I'm… wha- five feet, ten inches? Nine? Some'n like 'at." [5'10" = 177.8 cm]

"I'm about that height too," he noted, "Hold on, are ya taller than me?"

"I've no idea."

"Stand up?"

They both did, and Edward became bothered when he saw that his eyes were about level with Mary's. He lined his back against hers and felt the top of their heads, "No way. Ya may be taller!" He felt a bit emasculated.

"What?" She raised her hand and alternated from patting the crown of his head with her fingers and patting her own head with her palm, "Nah, I think yer taller'n me."

"Well…" He felt their heads again. "Damn, I can't tell! Now I'll feel self-conscious about it. I always thought I was a bit taller than ya."

"Per'aps it's our boots. In any case, it don't ma'er, Edward," she went over to where their clothes lay, scattered on the sand, and picked up the two cloths she used to wrap herself up. Meanwhile, Edward stretched back out under the tent.

"So ya say with a pleased look," he said, and smirked with teasing antagonism.

Mary joined him lying down, "I s'pose we've more'n common, mm?"

"Sure. I was what ya'd consider short up till I was around… fourteen years? I started out the year a tad shorter than my mum, and I ended it nearly a full head taller than her!"

"I imagine ye appreciate yer height more'n people who've been tall all their lives."

"Aye, I'm rather pleased with it."

She nodded, "Startin' short an' endin' tall is the way to do it."

"Hmm," Edward shifted on his side to face her, and placed his arm across her chest, so that his hand rested on her shoulder.

"I reckon the bes' way to be happy in the sense o' what mos' people say is happiness, is to be born in sufferin'. Be short. Be ugly. Be poor. Be in pain. Have no freedom," she uttered darkly, "Be 'orrible in e'ery way possible. Then improve, bit by bit, in every way. Freedom, for instance- I imagine ye'd be born barely able to move… Well, we're already born that way, aye? But I'm thinkin' ye'd be confined in a locked room in childhood. Tour the country in adulthood, then the whole world in yer later years, 'ave enough time to see everythin'. It'd be the same fer money- you'd ge' richer an' richer e'ery year 'at passed. Ye'd turn out 'andsomer. Be praised by others more and such. In the end, ye'd die like a king."

"Right," Edward wasn't sure what he could add.

She went on, "But in reality, life ain't continuously finer or worse. It's always a period o' joy, then o' gloom, then joy 'gain, an' so on. 'Ow does one rid o' tha' pattern? I think it comes down to this: we compare ourselves with others too much. Preferably, no one looks down on another fer lackin' money or havin' different likin's. People can joyful without comparisons, aye? What d'ye reckon?" She turned her head towards Edward.

He grimaced when their eyes met, "Sorry, Mare. I lost ya."

"Ah, no worries" she said, looking back up at the top of the tent. Then she asked, "Mare?"

Edward looked at her to see if she approved, "I thought it's a nice nickname."

"It was unusual enough being called 'Mary,' let alone a nickname fer it" she mused, "But ye can call me it all ye like. Though, d'ye mean 'mare' like a horse or 'mer' like the French word fer the sea?"

"Oh," he didn't know it meant 'sea' in French, "Well, it was just short for 'Mary,' but either would work. Both suit ya."

"Z'at so? Aight, but 'ow would'ye write it out?"

"How do ya spell the French word?"

"M, E, R."

"And ya write out 'mare' as in a horse M, A, R, E, aye?"

She nodded and hummed, "Mm-hmm."

"Eh, I think spelling it out like 'mare' the horse is better."

She smiled, "Nice."

Talking about their heights, mild philosophy, and nicknames was fine, but she wanted to know more about something that had been on the back of her mind. She sat up facing Edward, and requested, "Why don't ye do a li'l show an' tell with yer tattoos?"

"Certainly, Mare. Where shall I begin?"

"Which was yer firs'?"

He indicated to his left upper arm, "These pistols."

"I see! What's their meanin'?"

Dear me. Each is supposed to represent something, and I'm to elucidate them like a schoolboy? "I'd it done while I was still part of the crew that brought me across the Atlantic, for the most part to indicate that one should think twice before crossing me."

"Ah, same can go fer yer permanent hidden blade," she noted, gesturing at a dagger on his wrist, How fitting it's on his left wrist, "Ye got it b'fore posin' as Duncan?"

"Aye."

"What humor Dame Fortune 'as. Ye can't 'ave imagined ye'd eventually wield a small blade there," she felt her own wrist, void of its blade, then asked about another of Edward's tattoos, "Oi, why the chain 'ere?"

He glanced at his shoulder, "To remind me of the freedom I aim for."

"Though a chain signifies captivity?"

"Bitterness at times has a greater influence on me than something sweet."

"Ah," Mary commented simply, though Edward could tell she was pondering something.

He continued, "The compass, ship, and anchor," he looked at each as he spoke, "Don't have much significance, save expressing my love for sea adventures."

"Aight. An' who's she?"

"The lass?" he looked at his right upper arm, "No one I know. Don't know if she even exists. I told the artist I wanted a fetching woman on that part of my arm, and this is what he etched."

"So it don't bear some semblance to Caroline?"

"Hm," Edward gave a stiff, crooked smile, "Naw. From my memory she was the most gorgeous lass I've ever laid my eyes on."

"Aight- ye don't remember yer wife's look?" Mary sounded unbelieving.

He sighed, "If I saw her now, I don't know how I'd feel. Would she look how I remembered her, even considering it's been a few years since we last saw each other? Would she be how she is in my memory? Jaysus, I'm not certain how I remember her. Do I remember her fondly? As a nuisance? Perhaps I've little care for her at all anymore," he looked intensely at the cloth ceiling, "If I met her now, would she still suit my tastes? Or did my desire to indulge cloud my thinking, whereas my thoughts are now clearer?" he wondered.

In some sort of delight, Mary snorted, grinned, and looked up too.

"What?" This was one of the moments he couldn't read her at all.

I like when you express your reflections. "Keep on thinkin', mate. Jus'… keep at it, developin' yer thoughts. Ye may be onto some'n," Mary seemed to feel strange all of a sudden, and she brought their attention back to his tattoos, "So… honorin' George, are ye?" she looked at the crown printed next to the woman.

"More like honoring my rival in wealth once I find the Observat'ry. This is an example of when something sweet stirs me more than something bitter."

"Makes sense. Tattoos o' beggars ain't appealin'."

"You, though. Ya could get one of an impoverished whore, and others- at least I- would look admiringly at it," he looked back at his right upper arm, "It would rival mine!"

"Hah hah!" Mary laughed, her grin revealing curiously white teeth.

Edward laughed along with her at his own comments. Oh, he loved when his charisma was at its finest.

"Now on yer left forearm. What're 'em lines an' circles?"

"Absolutely nothing."

She raised an eyebrow, "Then what was yer reason to get 'em?"

"I wanted something fresh and tasteful no other man would have etched into his skin. Though, I've not received many compliments for it being tasteful."

"Art which is nonsense? Not sure what I think of it," she smiled wryly, "'At's a lot o' tattoos, Edward. May they all keep their vibrance in yer later years."

"Oh, I'll not allow myself to plump up," he eyed the one tattoo she had, peeking out from underneath the cloth she wrapped around her chest, "Now, Mare, what's yours about?"

"Ah, jus' decoration. Supposed to resemble a flower? Wanted to ge' some'n to signify me new life 'ere in the Wes' Indies. Got it on me bosom to make the part of me body extra private an' special," they smirked at each other, "Me scars're more tellin' o' me life," she shrugged, "Oi, what's 'at one fer? Grim, ain't it."

"The skull? One of the ones I got for a particular reason: to remind me to be confident in the face of risk and danger. Ya know the way your heart pounds wildly in those times? This brings to mind my undertaking to turn all dread into eagerness."

Is that confidence or arrogance? Mary wondered. She voiced another thought instead, "I imagine yer eager many times throughout the week, whether it be at the helm about to raid 'nother vessel or in the jungle circled by vicious panthers. O' course, as pirates an' explorers- an' at times Assassins- we run 'cross our fair share o' peril. Fer all we know, the next day may be our las'. Which is why I try to enjoy e'ery moment, bland as it might seem at firs'."

"Then don't fear death. I don't, and I feel free because of it."

"Really. Ye don't fear death," she sounded incredulous, "So yer eager fer death too? I reckon ye might be welcome to losin' everythin' ye 'ave when yer dyin' in unbelievable agony, but on a regular day I don't imagine ye'd 'ave 'at mindset. I mean, are ye willin' to abandon yer aims in this world so easily?"

He found her statements pointless, yet he had difficulty refuting them, "Well, I know it would take a lot for me to die, so I'm not abandoning anything."

"I think it'd be easier to go fer the 'I don't 'ave aims' argument, rather'n 'I can't die,'" Mary grinned. Despite her snideness, Edward could feel that she was simply entertained by his way of thinking, rather than smugly thinking him foolish. She continued, "I like to claim I don't fear it either, but I involve meself in too many thin's to be eager to dismiss all opportunities to further my aims. I think if ye lose everythin' or give it all away- if ye've nothin' to keep ye wantin' to stay alive on Earth, such as money or status or a lover- anythin' really 'cept maybe improvin' the lives of others- yer claim o' not fearin' death would 'old more water."

Edward frowned, "'On Earth?' Where else would we be? It don't seem so hard to believe that someone doesn't fear death, while wanting things in life."

"Yer firm in yer belief, I see. Well, what's the lowes' ye've e'er been in yer life?"

Easy question to answer, he thought as he responded, "When Caroline left me. Shite were my parents mad. They loved her. Perhaps more than I did, in a way," he wasn't fond of bringing up this part of his past, and he reckoned the person next to him didn't either, "I'm sorry to bring her up, Mare. Especially since I'm legally wed to her still. Although," he thought something wicked, "It'd be a positive thing for ya if my worst memory yet is of her."

"Oh, don't ye fret. After all, I've married too."

"Wha-"

Did he hear that right?

"You're married?"

"In God's eyes I was!"

"When?"

Mary snorted, amused, "I'm makin' a point 'bout life an' death. Would'ye rather listen to me prattle 'bout some marriage o' mine?"

"Well," Edward thought it obvious, "AYE. Ya can't just tell me about a past marriage and leave it at that! Why didn't ya make mention of this?"

"It never b'came very relevant in conversation! When I reveal meself as a lass, am I s'posed to say, 'To prove it, I was married!' An' when I snuck into yer quarters in Nassau to sugges' we know each other more, was I to utter, 'Like ye, I'm sort o' betrayin' another love o' mine.' Now, though, ye seemed to feel particularly guilty, an' I wanted to alleviate yer self-reproach."

He muttered, "Thought I was quiet about my personal affairs. Come on, tell me about your marriage, Mare."

"Really," she sighed, "Aight. Was long ago. B'fore I came to the Indies," she explained, "If yer gettin' jealous, he's dead."

"Oh," he stared, and she stared back. She does have a point in not mentioning this earlier. Caroline is more relevant to our conversations since she's alive. "Well? What's the lad's name? When exactly and why did he die? How'd ya meet?"

"Stefan was some upper-class Flemish lad I bunked with durin' me time in the Army o' Flanders. I let 'im in on me secret since I fancied 'im, an' he turned out to find me intriguin' as well. We decided we'd be 'appier together married an' on land. We ended up doin' jus' tha', after I announced to the regiment I was a lass an' left. We go' to runnin' an inn in Southampton. Fer a while I lived lookin' like a lady. Though, I received looks fer sometimes dressin' in trousers- me shins go' chilly, aight- particularly from 'is mum, who took up residence in one room. 'Er father was Spanish an' stayed in Flanders after fightin' when the Seventeen Provinces revolted 'gainst Spain. She was filled with Spanish pride, an' Stefan ended up knowin' more o' the language'n French or Dutch or English!"

"Is that how ya know Spanish?"

"Aye."

"I thought ya were Spanish in your ancestry. Dark hair, brown-green eyes, knows Spanish."

"Maybe I am! I've no idea, actually. Either way, Stefan an' his mum were glad to learn more English from me, though they taught me me own language at times! It b'came easier conversin' in Spanish'n in English, eventually- Spanish ain't too different'n English, ye'd be surprised," she thinned her lips in thought, remembering when she would fear the difficulty of learning the language, "Stefan an' I… respected each other, which was some'n I always wanted in a relationship. An' bein' well off was some'n I wished fer. It felt refreshin' to live differently 'an 'ow I grew up. But, uh, thin's didn't work out."

"Was he too fond of the sea? That's how it went with me," he laughed.

"Well, turned out he preferred other lads."

"Oh."

A smirk, "Part o' why I ne'er mentioned fancyin' ye till I foun' the courage an' trust in ye to reveal meself, or ye some'ow tol' me firs' 'bout ye fancyin' me despite me seemin' a lad. I knew ye fancy lasses, so if ye fancied me as a lad, I'd be fine. In the end, ye confessed an' I revealed meself b'fore admittin' me feelin's" she grinned, "But more of an issue regardin' me an' Stefan was 'at I found I missed the free an' easy life o' sailors. The life of adventure was fer me. I thought: we're 'ungry fer cash so we can one day 'ave the means to do thin's like travel the world an' shite. But 'ell, ye can do 'at while explorin' an' sailin'!" her eyes lit up.

Sounds like a familiar thought, Edward grinned.

"I was still fond of 'im though he preferred lads. He'd cared 'nuff fer me to admit the fact at all an' discuss it. Didn't stop us from bein' bes' o' mates," she smiled bittersweetly, "Damn, was it a miserable time after word slipped out an' they very lit'rally stoned 'im. Right out o' the Holy Bible," she furrowed her eyebrows in dismay, "I'd los' the greates' among the few friends I'd had in all me life. I felt more free upon sayin' a warm-'earted adiós to 'is mum, leavin' the inn to 'er so she'd revenue, an' joinin' a crew again. But I was missin' support. I looked fer somewhere to be accepted as people like me grandparents, Stefan, and 'is mum'd accepted me. Yet I ended up distancin' meself from others, an' they distanced 'emselves as a result. Frustratin', I thought! Then I remembered to 'ave a good time when I met ye an' yer mates, an' I found it easier gettin' close to others after 'at. Then we established Nassau as the core o' the pirate republic, which provided me a purpose. An' o' course, the Assassins gave me another 'ome an' yet another- truth be told more tangible- purpose. So I'm respected by pirates an' Assassins alike, an' ow I'm 'ere, with Edward Kenway."

"Damn," he took a moment to process all she'd said, "Now start from the beginning. Your whole story. And allow me to make guesses from time to time."

"Fine by me," Mary smiled a bit, "This is more fun 'an I thought. Any guesses so far?"

"Ya told me long ago that you're from Yorkshire. Made sense, what with that accent of yours, leaving out a few letters sometimes, pronouncing words such as saying 'my' as 'meh'- unless it's stressed, then ya make it 'mah.'"

Mary nodded slowly, an amiable grin on her face, and said with an exaggerated drawl, "Bloodeh true, meh'."

"And ya seem to be the pragmatic, city type. I'm assuming you're from Leeds?"

"Jus' about. A town a few miles north o' Leeds, actually," she nodded, "Now, what d'ye think 'bout 'ow I go' to dressin' as a lad?"

"I was thinking that once ya became set on sailing, ya tried out disguises."

"Mmm," she hummed in thought, "True, but me 'istory with dressin' goes back further. I've 'ad practice, an' the story begins b'fore birth, in a sense."

"Ah! Do tell."

"Aight. So, it's true I've no father or anyone like one. I've no idea who the gent is- or was- an' at this point I've little care. Me mum, a spirited lass by the name o' Henrietta, well," Mary sighed, "She wasn't the bes' mum. She'd borne a son by some other gent she married, but he was finished off when sailin', of all thin's. So strictly speakin', I've a brother, named Mark, but he'd some affliction in the ches', an' he died shortly b'fore Henrietta 'ad me."

Edward nodded.

"Simply put, Mark's dad died, Mark died, an' Henrietta was in need o' coin an' tried to be clever. Mark's grandparents funded her because Mark's dad, their son, had passed, leaving her to raise Mark by 'erself, as they didn't know the lad was dead. It was the main purpose o' me birth, ye could say: to take Mark's place an' scrounge money from me mum's in-laws. Could'ye believe it," she snorted and met Edward's eye, "Ye follow?"

"Aye. But your mum didn't birth a lad, as she'd hoped. Mary. Mark. You're named similar to your brother. Ya didn't go by James Kidd, but by your brother's name."

"Aye, excellent thinkin'!" Mary was impressed, "In those days, was Mark I went by, 'specially in the presence o' Mark's grandparents. Though at 'ome me mum'd refer to me as 'Mary.' Not sure why she didn't feel the need to simply call me 'Mark' e'erywhere," she shrugged, "She actually convinced me I'm a lad- a lad who 'ad different indoor an' outdoor names. It may not 'ave been 'er intention, but it 'appened."

"Hah! No!" To think that someone could be so misinformed about herself!

"Aye! I knew no one by Mary, so I'd no idea it was a lass's name."

"Ya nearly can't walk down a street in England without passing someone named Mary."

"Then I'm in rare company. I also wasn't aware o' the physical differences between the sexes. I thought since I looked like a lad- me mum dressed me as such- I mus' be one. It was when I was almos' in adolescence- heh," she smiled mischievously, "I found me ches' was expandin', like a lass's. It was bloody scary! So I go to Henrietta an' 'esitantly inform 'er o' the predicament. She tells me: 'Aye, we've the same sor' o' bodies. Men've others. Thought ye knew 'at!' As if it was me fault I was misled!"

"Rather callous, your mum."

A corner of her lip turned up regretfully, and she nodded, "She'd 'ave me see Mark's grandparents, time to time," her smile became easy, "As a poli'ical gesture- they'd think she wanted us all to 'ave quali'y time, Oh, those days were what I looked forward to mos'. There I was treated like an angel! They prepared me bed an' washed me clothes. Then there was the cookin' an' eatin' o' me favorite dishes," she found herself craving buttermilk scones, "Goin' to festivals, listenin' to folk stories. They even taught me to read! Fittin', though, since it was from 'em I've me surname. Like I'd mistakenly thought I was a lad, I'd thought they were me grandparents."

"What of your grandparents through your mum?"

"They'd passed on, she'd say. Though, it wouldn't much surprise me if they'd simply gave up on 'er," Mary's smile stiffened, "I'd occasionally asked Henrietta why I 'ad to do it, dress as a lad. I didn't understand 'at she was attemptin' to fool Mark's grandparents, me bein' unfamiliar with the ways o' the world. The intense desire people 'ave fer wealth. I'd receive no explanation, but she finally warned: 'if ye don't like it, go starve!' an' I stopped askin'. I figured 'er scheme eventually, when me granddad passed away when I was thirteen years in age. She was oddly pleased. Though me grandmum received the greates' amount from the will, me mum received a small sum an' took from me share."

"What would she do with all the money ya practically earned her?"

"I saw 'er eatin', drinkin', shoppin', pretendin' she'd class an' status. But it wasn't enough to deplete all the money. The rest went somewhere I ne'er knew, an' I wouldn't pry. Meanwhile, I kept me funds hid away, out o' respect fer me grandparents. Christ, the guilt at makin' dullards of 'em, fer coin! I'd feel the urge to shout, 'I'm so sorry, I ain't your grandson! I ain't even a lad!' Eventually, I did it. One day I confessed to me grandmum. An' ye know what? She said she didn't mind I wasn't her grandson, or tha' we'd no blood relation. She still sent funds, she simply loved me 'at much. Though, she gradually gave me mum less an' less funds, to give me more. It made no sense to show me affection, as we weren't kin, but she did," Mary looked down and gulped audibly.

It fully dawned on Edward that she felt emotions aside from the usual amusement, zeal, or lack thereof she exhibited. It wasn't pain that stirred her now, though. She was instead moved by someone's kindness. Edward found it strange: people normally get worked up emotionally by misfortune, and grin at generosity. Mary seemed to do the opposite.

"Christ, when she died a year later…" she cleared her throat, "I'd no desire to do anythin' but sit an' think fer weeks after. Me mum, who shed few tears, 'specially after collectin' scarcely anythin' from the will, said she cared no more 'ow I dressed. So I quit cuttin' me hair, an' I took a dress of 'ers fer meself. I went outside wearin' it, but it didn't feel right. Those were rough times, mate. I felt timid 'bout bein' 'mongst people, lookin' different'n I'd always looked. So I instead began walkin' 'long the river by our proper'y, everyday fer a couple weeks, donnin' a dress an' too much cosmetics. I'd wonder 'bout thin's such as whether or not me grandparents'd known all along I was a lass, an' I'd ponder what I really wanted to do. No one was there with me by the stream, as I preferred it, an' I'd stop every once in a while in me stroll to stare at meself in the water."

Edward sympathized, "It was enough to sap your desire for adventure, even. So much that you'd do the same dull activity for weeks…"

Mary nodded, looking Edward in the eye, "I'd think: if Henrietta'd let me look a lass all these years, what sort o' person would I be? I didn't 'ave anyone to discuss it with. No father, no brother, no stolen grandparents… Jus' a lousy mum. An' as private as I can be, I wished I could trus' someone with me troubles."

"Jaysus, Mare," Edward thought that his loneliest days must have been what was usual for her. "Had ya no playfellows or someone of the sort?"

"There were a few youths me age in town I'd frolic with in our childhood days- play pretend an' football an' such- but I ne'er found their activities engagin' in the end."

"So what would ya do to pass time?"

"As a child, I mos'ly explored the area 'round the house. It was when I firs' no'iced I'd an extra sense others didn't 'ave. Seein' the invisible, an' hearin' 'the shimmerin,' as ye describe it. But I'd little care to sharpen' the sense at firs'. In the forest I jus' made 'ouses o' wood, hunted, an' watched the more privileged children closer to the city on their way to school. Then I learned to read an' write. I used me coin on all sorts o' publications. O' course, I particularly enjoyed the adventure stories," Mary grinned at her fellow pirate, "Later on, I grew a passion fer swimmin', in 'at river nearby. Though Henrietta insisted I do it wearin' thick, loose-fittin' shirts, les' someone spotted me an' figured I ain't a lad. Then eventually I'd a taste o' the business world tradin' an' sellin' the books I bought. Made a decent profit, too!" she nodded fondly at the memories.

"Maybe ya should go back to that sort of trade," Edward suggested half-seriously.

"Nah, more excitement in bein' a sea criminal an' killer-in-the-shadows. The salty banter o' pirates is more involvin' 'an the feigned cordiality of educated folk. Talkin' with Hen made me more suited fer rough speak."

"Hen?"

"What I like to call Henrietta to ruffle 'er."

He snickered a little.

Mary smiled unsurely, "Now what?"

"In Welsh, 'hen' means 'old.'"

"Hah! Now 'at's bloody fantastic!" she clapped her hands.

Edward nodded, "Aye, rough speak with ol' Hen, you're saying?" What other things did Mary have to put up with?, he thought, amazed,"I've yet to see a mother like her."

"I can't imagine ye'd not be entertained. I began slightin' 'er in fun, since I'd not received much warmth from 'er. An' when I grew older she'd do it back. Ye might say, 'Must've really spoiled whate'er bond we may 'ave 'ad.' Well, I'd say we some'ow go' closer through it, actually. Neither of us were keen on motherly gestures like 'ugs an' smotherin' endearments," Mary shrugged, "Anyway, 'at's a good idea o' what I was up to."

"And Hen? What would she do to pass the time, usually?"

"When not depletin' our money, she was mos'ly doin' odd jobs such as cleanin' an' mendin' clothes. If she was desperate fer coin, she went to thievin'. An' if she was penniless, I wouldn't see 'er till at least dawn the next day."

"Hm," Edward nodded, understanding the implication.

"While me mum continued wastin' 'er life after she lost the reliable 'income' o' me grandmum, I really sharpened me special sense. I became sensitive to where others were. I go' to know how far me sight extended. I came to perceive who was behind me. I go' to know at what point I'm too focused on some'n else 'at my abilities waver- though sometimes I ignore passin' 'at threshold, as ye saw earlier when ye arrived 'ere. I also honed me fighting skill. I provoked the patrons o' taverns the nex' town o'er to get into a fight. When I was confident in meself, I even went after two soldiers. I beat one, though the other- hah- he cornered me. But he let me go. With a recommendation I join the military, to develop me abilities further!"

"We need more like him!"

"Aye. In a few months, I took me funds an' went south. I joined a crew-"

"Wait."

"Hmm?"

"What did Henrietta think?"

"Ah, I left without a no'ice. I was useless to 'er, though she'd been urgin' me the months b'fore to marry one o' the wealthy men around. Tch," she snorted, "But I went an' joined the navy instead!" **

"Why join a crew, though, if ya had coin?"

"It wasn't a great sum, an' I hadn't much of an idea 'ow to spend what I did 'ave. I was fascinated by the sea and by sailin', so I figured I might find a purpose there. I ended up doin' as me mum asked, in the end, an' wed a well-off gent. I sent post to 'er, knowin' she can't read, tellin' 'er so but 'at I won't support 'er. I thought I was bein' marvelously cheeky," she smirked, "I thought to go up an' see 'er when Stefan died, but I bloody couldn't. It'd be humiliatin'. Fer I was a widow, the lad I married preferred actual men, an' I didn't send me mum any money. In fact, I mocked 'er… I wasn't much better'n 'er. What I did best was fight an' be peculiar, what with me keepin' to meself an' musin' so much. Not to mention the dressin' as a lad. Instead, I donned Stefan's clothin' an' signed up to be a privateer again. I left the land feelin' like I finally extended me wings."

Edward could tell just how wistful the memory was to her, even without using eagle vision. He himself knew how refreshing it was to leave Britain.

"I didn't want to be known as 'Mark' any longer. After some thinkin', I settled on 'James Kidd,' claimin' to be William Kidd's illegitimate. I do admit, I made use of 'is fame to boost me own. It ain't like the cap'n was so above havin' 'is name stained further by sayin' he'd produced bastards," she smirked.

"An' that's how James Kidd came to be," Edward nodded, then wondered, "Do ya know what became of Henrietta?"

"No, I don't… an' 'ell, to be blunt, I don't know if I should care. I thought she may have felt a bit sorry at the time I left, but I couldn't know fer sure. Me early life would've been far less troublesome if she were less self-seekin'. An' then me dad. How'd thin's go if he were around," she smiled a bit, yet furrowed her eyebrows slightly, "If Mark's dad were to live much longer… Well, I wouldn't 'ave to dress as a lad, but I wouldn't exist in the firs' place. If I'd some sort o' father figure, who knows 'ow I'd be now… Long story short, me fam'ly life's unpleasant," she laughed, "Though I try to leave the past as passed."

"Hm," Edward cocked his head, "So I shouldn't bother warming up to my potential in-laws? If they won't warm up to ya, what more me," he smiled in jest.

"Hah," she laughed simply, though he could tell the joke provoked mixed feelings, "Oh, I don't know- I've become cynical on marriage."

"That's reasonable. I can understand why ya'd be that way. Still, most women dream of marriage- some, only about it."

"I ain' mos' women," Mary teasingly met his gaze, then looked away distractedly, "'Ell, some moments I do wish I was."

"Aye," Edward nodded. He would have a rough time too, if he were to give up a masculine appearance in order to do what he loved if what he loved to do was normally done by women. He would go insane at keeping hidden what was true; despite the altered appearance, he would still have trouble keeping in mind to sit with his knees together, and not to speak with too low-pitched a voice. Edward then thought of those people like Stefan, who had to hide their fondness for people of their own sex, and felt their misery. He had a taste of that misery being attracted to Mary while not knowing she was a woman.

"A lad, I mean. At times I wish I was actually a lad, sorry. Actually be a lad, or some'ow change the way people think."

Oh! He could see why she'd want to be that way, too. "Ya misled me for a moment," he laughed.

"Aye, sorry," she laughed too, "Ye lot got it easy, cer'ain ways. Fer mos' women, if they're not indoors doin' borin' thin's like managin' the house, they're out at the shops. Or, if a lady's born 'to the lowes' rungs o' society's ladder, she beds fer a livin'. None o' those lifestyles were fer me. Meanwhile, men've more opportunities. If a lad wants to ge' rich, he creates a business or explores the world or breaks the law. Lasses marry 'em to ge' coin. Society's splendid, innit. I'd love to be at the top of it all," she sounded sarcastic in her last statement, to Edward's confusion. By being at the top, you live a lavish life, free from trouble. What the hell- who doesn't want to be at the top of our society? Mary grinned, "Best thin' 'bout bein' a lad, though: ye don't 'ave to bleed out the genitals e'ery month."

He chuckled, "Though we've the opportunity to! I think I've a scar on my arse from one duel."

"No, ye don't. I've already checked!"

Again, he laughed, "Fine, but I hope ya don't wish you're a lad too often. I wouldn't be fond of ya the way I am if ya were."

"We both know 'ats bollocks. Ya confessed b'fore I revealed I'm a lass."

Ah, that again. He grinned,"Well, damn. I guess I would adore ya no matter what. But Jaysus, I'm glad you're female. I thought for many months that I was ever the slightest into lads, but no," he snorted a small sigh of relief, "Something drew me to ya, but how could I not see ya were a lass?"

"Ne'er fails to amuse me. Now, it'd be grand if me mum would love me no ma'er what as well," she smiled back but Edward could feel the tinge of melancholy in her words.

"Aye," he said with condolence.

"'Twas 'ard to fergive 'er. After all, she's caused me misery, an' reason dictates she should do some'n to make amends fer the struggle an' lack o' freedom I endured. But I reckoned b'fore I left 'at pardonin' 'er is the bes' course. Lookin' at what I did after joinin' the navy, though- 'ell, with 'ow I was b'fore joinin'- it'd be difficult to make amends. I kept thinkin', though: would I be be'er off livin' with hatred or peace?

"As with anyone, I'd rather be happy than spiteful, but isn't that ignoring all those years of hardship?"

"I-… Not quite. Rather, I acknowledge the 'arm done, yet see tha' me mum did what she did because she thought it'd make 'er 'appy. Did she care much fer me? Not as a mother should, I think. Should I resent 'er? I don't like her deeds, but I think I'm be'er than she was, so no. I won't stoop to 'er level an' wish 'er harm. I want to make 'er see 'at what she done ain't right, but I don't think an eye fer an eye'd fix thin's, necessarily. I don't regard me mum bitterly or anythin'. I jus' find the circumstances ridiculous."

"Awright, Mare, but I still don't see why ya need to forgive her. Ya could leave the issue behind ya altogether. Forget it."

"'Old on. So would ye recommend fergettin' an' ignorin' the problem, or not?"

"What I mean is…" Shite, she has a point. I said that she shouldn't ignore what her mother did, and then I said she should forget about it. That's faulty thinking! Edward frowned.

"What I mean is what you mean, I think: A balance between not ignorin' the problem, while not allowin' it to bother me. I don't imagine 'at most people can truly, completely ferget bitterness. If ye find a way I can ge' me mum to make amends, me ears do make a fine audience."

"If ever ya go back to England, speak to her. Demand… money. A sincere apology at the least. Make known your hardship at her hand."

"Hm. I don't plan on returnin'. Not any time soon, at least. If I did, should I demand something? What'd that accomplish? I'd rather enjoy the opportunity to have a supportive, satisfyin' bond with me mum, the way it should be."

"I would… agree. No forcing ya to dress as a lad, or treating ya like you're created to trick 'family,' or suggesting your opinion don't matter. Damn," he shook his head, "Ya have such an enthralling tale, Mare. I doubt I'll ever fully grasp how you dress like that, all the time, with no complaints."

"I'm jus' lucky- luckier'n many lasses with a taste fer adventure- tha' I tower o'er nearly all women an' a good many men, an' tha' I've a somewhat low-pitched voice. High an' low in the right ways, hmm? Then, with bindin's to 'old me lovely tits an' with the claim I'm in adolescence- perpetual adolescence at this point-, it ain't difficult."

He laughed a little, "Aye, ya have been a juvenile for a few years now. But is it difficult in the mind?"

"Since I'd spent mos' me life this way, it's natural. It actually still feels a tad strange roamin' the streets out o' disguise. 'Do people think I look an' act too lad-like fer a lass?' I'd think. It don't bother me, but I do find meself wonderin'. What concerns me more is someone identifyin' James Kidd in spite o' the change in garb, the cosmetics, the tits, an' the higher voice. Me years o' reputation-buildin'd be futile, an' I don't imagine I'd garner the same respect I ge' from me crew."

"James Kidd and Mary Read seem the same to me," Edward shrugged, "Still tough. Still witty. Still unmoved and determined. A change in garb don't do much. So if ya went as a lass more, I think ya'd surely be caught."

"Hmm," she murmured. Was that a sheepish little smile on her face? Or was it a wince, out of disagreement? "Tha's a good thin', aye? I may change in appearance, but not in character?"

He nodded, "Ya don't let having to dress like that get to ya. Ya look like you're amused by it all, on the contrary."

"Aye," she nodded, "But… Ah, I think 'at's enough 'bout me. Yer turn. 'Ow goes yer fam'ly?"

"What're theylike?"

"Aye!" Mary responded, apparently very curious.

"Not as unique as yours," he said simply.

The sociable one between us keeps his mouth shut!, Mary thought, surprised, "What d'ye mean?"

"Your past is fascinating. There's none quite like it at all. It could even be a theatre production or the like. Pity ya don't- well, ya really can't share it much," he gave a wry grin, "I'm ashamed of my own past in a new way now- that it ain't so boring and tragic as I make it out to be in my mind."

"Nonsense! Yer sayin' yer ashamed o' yer past because it ain't as unpleasant as mine?" she inwardly grimaced at how ridiculous that sounded, "Why?"

"My story becomes boring compared to yours."

All Edward got back was a blank stare.

"Well, I reckoned ya might pity me because I don't think my past illustrious. My story had the feel of wanting more from life, or so I thought. After listening to yours, I'm doubting it."

Mary still seemed baffled at his thinking, "I was afraid mah tale wouldn't interest ye. It ain't filled with much positivity an' grandeur, as I thought ye'd prefer. It's mos'ly tragedy," she smiled unsurely, trying to ease the misunderstanding, "I didn't experience many thin's normal young lasses did, aye. But 'at don't… glorify what 'appened. At least, it shouldn't. Ye want a past like mine? Ye want 'at ye've been in mah place? It ain't the kind of excitement ye'd prefer, I think."

"More interesting than what I had back then."

"If ye insist 'at notoriety's better'n obscurity, so be it. 'Ell, I've not pondered it fully. But c'mon, I'll be engrossed by yer tale because it's yer bloody tale, Edward. We're good mates. Christ, we're in bed with one 'nother. Makes sense I'd care fer anythin' regardin' ye, hm?"

Edward only grinned, his eyebrows raised asking, You really want to hear this?

"Allow me to judge 'ow dull it is, if it is dull at all," she said easily. Despite her fairly calm expression, Edward could feel that she was determined and encouraging.

"Awright, Mare." Yes, she hadn't much going for her in her childhood, and he felt rather sorry. He understood he was among the few people she could talk heart-to-heart with, and though he thought himself more social than her, he felt the same way.

For a woman who insisted on her reclusiveness and her need for improving her social acumen, she sure had a way of affecting him with words.

So he put together his past, "I hail from Swansea, that ya know. I spent most my time farming, and when I wasn't with the animals or on the fields, I'd play with the other young lads and lasses. Mum was stern in making sure I kept proper- insisting on me not muddying my trousers and on playing fair- but she'd always treat me with a wholesome meal when I worked hard with the animals. Pa'd drink as much as you and I now do. It'd get him through the worry of not being so financially well off. A hard worker nonetheless, and he was well-liked. Could tell jokes for hours on end. He cared for Mum and me from the bottom of his heart."

"Sounds like a pleasant childhood."

"I found it incredibly unexciting."

"Aye, I can understand, but 'at life could be enjoyable if ye've the way o' thinkin'."

"I didn't have that way of thinking. Bloody boring was it all. Could ya believe every Sunday we'd attend church gatherings, then spend the rest of the day at socials? It was enjoyable if other children were in the households we were visiting, or if my cousins were with us, but when it was just the adults, I was expected to sit patiently with them and listen to their dull anecdotes. We'd do little to no work whatsoever, keeping in mind the 'holy day.' I imagine Henrietta wasn't religious?"

Mary shook her head no.

"Well you're damn fortunate to avoid all that. Though on occasion I'd receive presents like wood-carved animals. As if I wasn't surrounded by animals enough!"

The dark-haired pirate matched his grin, "Farm life, eh?"

Edward nodded and sighed, "Aye. I didn't much mind it, the first months of full-on work. When you're a lad of seven, working with animals is a delight. Then ya find that everything repeats. The sheep regrow their wool after being sheared, then ya shear them again. I tired of it," he shrugged and looked emptily at the lagoon, "I nearly never share my past. A farmboy who became a sailor? How damned fascinating. It's what happens after I became a privateer that's worth telling."

"Yet ye've still plenty to tell, I think. So ye've no siblin's?"

"No. None that I know of, at least. But how I yearned for one. I ended up talking to the animals, sometimes!" he chuckled.

Mary smiled slightly and slowly nodded.

Considering the upbringing she just disclosed, he worked out her probable train of thought: "The opposite of what ya had, huh, Mare? A dead sibling ya wish ya didn't have?"

"Aye, ye ge' me," she sounded pleased. He imagined that it wasn't too often someone got into her head. Mary then commented, "So yer from Swansea but I don't 'ear too much Welsh in yer way o' speech. Meanwhile, I'm sometimes asked what part o' Scotland I'm from," she snorted and shook her head in amusement, "I s'pose ye relocated east in yer early years?"

"Awright- first, the accent does become obvious when I'm ruffled and end up speaking quickly. And, aye, we relocated to Bristol when I was a lad of ten," he shrugged, "And my dad's from Manchester."

"Manchester? So there's a fair 'mount o' English in ye."

"Aye," Edward nodded, "Well, Mum and Pa reckoned England had better opportunities, so we spent several weeks making our way across south Wales. We'd pack our belongings and our livestock, settle down for a week, give our horses a rest, and repeat until we reached Bristol."

"Seems like a splendid few weeks. Ye go' to start a new life."

"Mum took it hard, and that weighed on my and Pa's hearts."

"Why'd it trouble 'er?"

"She spent nearly her whole life in Swansea. We left behind her family. My grandparents felt somewhat that Pa was stealing her away from them. Though she agreed that moving home would be best, they weren't so wrong in their thinking: she was still down over leaving behind those closest to her, for a place where she knew no one save Pa and me. Over time, though, she grew used to it."

"Ah. An' how'd ye find it?"

"It was refreshing, if I'm honest. It didn't take me long to establish a reputation. The bad sort. I was rather drunk with the feeling of establishing myself however I wanted, ya could say, and I needed to stand out. Surprised?"

"Not so."

He grinned, "So many times I nearly ruined our bloody business of selling what we produced on our farm, which was mostly wool. If it weren't for Pa to mend relations after I'd botched 'em… maybe I would have become a privateer sooner," he chuckled.

"An' how does Edward Kenway botch relations? One of 'is greates' assets is 'is charm."

"My charm and my brashness, aye? Two sides of the same coin, it seems to me. Pa found my charm wasted. I flirted with the wrong women- they sometimes were the wives or daughters of merchants and customers. I at times got too domineering with the traders themselves. And that was when I was making half an effort to do as my parents told. I would, hah," he grinned sheepishly, "I'd spend most my hours doing monkey tricks with the other lads in the town, or having a few at the pubs. If I brought along our goods and left them outside unwatched, I'd find that some had been stolen when I went back out."

What would you expect?, he read from Mary's expression as she asked, "This 'appened a few times?"

"A few dozen. I'd not care. And simply having that sort of renown tainted our business."

Mary, eager for more, stayed quiet as Edward stared firmly at the sand just outside the tent, reflecting more on his past.

He went on, "Truthfully, I didn't mind thinking that we'd go back to Swansea after a while. My parents had adored me when we lived there. By the time I was thirteen, Mum stopped serving me special meals for the work I did. Only on our birthdays would we feast. Mate, it's miserable having your family ashamed of ya. Our conversations came to be at best uncomfortable. I didn't like coming back home. It didn't feel like a home."

Mary nodded, but he sensed her thinking it couldn't have been so bad, compared to what she had.

Speculating her undermining his story hurt, and his tone became more biting, "I thought I couldn't grow more sick of the bland, poor life. Ya know, when I'd hear the wheels of the carriages of the rich folk approaching, I'd look towards the noise and gaze at the coachman. Once, the two of us locked eyes and he immediately looked away. I somehow knew he felt threatened. I didn't know my stares were so forbidding! And selling wool to tailors, I'd pilfer things from the wealthier customers getting their hems done or whatnot. Little things like that spiced up life in Bristol. Though to my parents' dismay," he smiled wryly, "I think they were about to give me the boot when they became impressed with the lass I brought home."

"Ah, ye've yet to mention 'ow ye became close to Caroline."

"That's nothing special. I was wonderstruck by her image, and she found me charming enough to want to get to know as well," a recollection caused his eyes to widen, "Though, our meeting was rather interesting. I met her just outside one of the pubs."

From what I've heard of her, I didn't take her to be the pubbing type, thought Mary, "Ye seem to 'ave luck meeting lasses at pubs."

Edward chuckled, thinking back to when they first ran into each other at Old Avery, "Aye. But with Caroline, the case was that she saved me in a scuffle, instead of starting one with me."

He sensed his fellow pirate's bewilderment, and asked, "What?"

"So she's a lass who frequents pubs an' can brawl."

"Oh!" he also became confused, then began to laugh. He pressed his hand to his forehead as his shoulders quivered, "No, no! Rather the opposite. I was clobbered so bad I was barely conscious when she arrived. She'd come to pick up her chambermaid-servant lass, whom I was failing to protect."

"From what?"

"Rape, maybe worse, from a few lads I spotted exploiting her intoxication, taking her away."

"Ah," One reason I don't resent dressing as I do, "An' 'ow does a proper lady, as I imagined Caroline is, save a lad in a tussle?"

"By being so proper nearly any lad would try to impress her, and to try impressing her involved not thrashing a hero about."

"I see!"

"Aye, that's how Caroline and I became acquainted. She perked up my tedious life. I'd look forward to next seeing her, talking with her so that I was assured I was still wanted. And she taught me things when we were together. I learned my letters from her."

"Aw, 'at's lovely!" Mary grinned.

"Lovely, awright. Mum and Pa thought the world of Caroline, like they would a daughter. Not even considering that they hoped she would make me a true gentleman, they were taken with how she held herself. When she was over, we'd put out lavish dishes on the table. Feast like we used to after a day's work. They were good times, when I could look forward to a marriage, and before we moved in to our own home. Because when we failed at that, we moved in with my parents. And at that point she left. Mum and Pa were furious at me for being the cause of her departure. They would say that if either of them left the other, both families'd be furious at them too. They'd say that's how it should be: that they're together 'cause they make each other better. But me, I ruined the thing that may have improved me."

"Christ," Mary shook her head in sympathy, "Right, ye've described yer maternal kin. What o' yer pa's?"

"I didn't meet anyone from Pa's side, as his mum and pa were ancient enough to find traveling unmanageable. Only his sister came down to visit a few times. She was decent but she didn't liven up things much," he sighed, "I did come across another Kenway here in the Indies, but, alas, the lad's family wasn't from Manchester."

"Would've been grand."

"A decent conversation, aye," Edward shrugged.

Mary nodded, "What d'ye reckon yer parents're doin' right now?"

"Ah," he frowned and thought, strange question, "Likely going about their usual business: housekeeping, farm-keeping, trading, being social. Only without me there, of course."

"Ye don't imagine 'em… missin' ye, time to time?"

"No. I was trouble. Their optimism for me was gone long before I left. Jaysus, they expressed little concern at my becoming a privateer. Well, Mum expressed that she didn't want me dead, but she didn't want me causing others to be dead either. I'm a bloody privateer, mate! People are bound to die from what I do!" bemused, he raised his hands, "But no one in Bristol really misses me- ya know, wonder where precisely I am, how I'm doing. Though I'm making certain that when I get back, they'll wonder why they didn't wonder about me now."

The other pirate gave a half-hearted smile, from which Edward could tell she didn't agree with something he said, though he couldn't pinpoint what, "Yer ambitious 'bout some'n, give ye tha'. What led ye to b'come a privateer?"

"I first heard the particulars about it and life at sea during one of my pub trips. I'd overhear sailors chatting, but it was a while before I spoke directly with one of the lads. Truthfully, I wasn't roused until he spoke of the adventure and the riches, and about how many privateers end up going rogue. Fighting for Her Majesty had little appeal, but I got to thinking I could make it big. So here I am, proudly wielding blades, pistols, and my own handsome vessel, with a crew to inspire and with one of the greatest people in the West Indies at my side, in the process of finding the greatest treasure known to man. It's a good time. Now imagine once I pin down Roberts."

"'At's when the fun truly begins?"

"Oh, aye."

"Everyone keeps wantin' some'n. I want thin's. You want thin's," she stared at the top of the tent pensively, "An' yer a wanted man."

"Wanted by ya?" he asked suggestively.

"Not jus' by me," she smirked at her lover for a moment, "Yer a target. Wanted by other pirates, by the Temps, by the authorities of multiple kingdoms…"

"The bounty on my head does make me restless, at times."

"An' it's only growin'. Jus' be glad yer not targeted by the Assassins. I saved yer arse, Edward."

He was unmoved, "Ya lot are that deadly?"

"Remember, I trained a good many of 'em meself. Tha' an' a horde of 'em 'gainst one man- chance ain't on yer side. An' it says some'n when the gov'ner of 'Avana expresses concern because of us."

"Awright," he said simply, "Yet I was able to slip around Tulum unnoticed."

Mary furrowed her eyebrows and nodded, "Tou-bleedin'-ché, mate. But when we're set on a target, we ain't relentin'."

He gestured at her with both hands, "Unless Mary Read says so."

"Not bad, Edward. But sometimes it's when James Kidd says so."

"Same person, so nonsense," he grinned crookedly.

"Yer particularly witty today, aren't ye! Per'aps we're turnin' into each other," she chuckled, "Ye know what? I want…" she sat up then got on her legs, "A smoke."

"Not rum?"

"Nah. Seems I've less tolerance fer liquor 'round ye."

"Really?" he recalled their mischief earlier in the week, "Well, make that two who'd like a smoke. Since you're up, my pipe's somewhere in my robe. And pass me my drawers while you're there, would ya? Thanks, Mare."

"Thought yer 'bout to answer 'Thanks, mate' rather'n 'Mare,'" she said seconds later when she came back and handed him the items. Then she sat down on the cloth, leaning her back against one of the poles.

"Thanks, mate," he said now, standing up to put on the undergarment. He sat down across from her, against another post, and worked on lighting his pipe, "No drawers for ya? No corset?" ***

"I've a few drawers, but I much prefer simple wraps. Easier to put on 'an corsets, an' I can switch tops an' bottoms. An' I've more confidence wearin' these 'an with drawers durin' those days o' the month. These're much thicker."

"First I've seen garments like that, and ya know I've seen my fair share of women's undergarments. It's a sleek, elegant look. Should come into fashion."

"The crossdressin' lass, settin' trends," she drew in some tobacco, "I'd be famous."

"Though, ya already are."

They smoked together, coquettishly staring at one another across the small tent, the only noises provided by the rain.

Eventually, Mary rested the arm holding her pipe on her knee and said, "S'been a while since I've bedded a lad."

"Feels like it's been a while since I've bedded a lass."

"The same fer me, but much longer with the lads," a corner of her lips tilted up roguishly but she did not look him in the eye.

"How's that so?"

"I mean, it's 'ard findin' lads in the business, compared to lasses. An' when yer feelin' the need…" Mary shrugged, "I'll be to the point," she rotated the pipe between her fingers and watched how the tobacco inside shifted, "I did bed 'em harlots. Not no more. It ain't often they ge' lasses as clients at 'em houses, so I go' stares, but provided 'at they don't recognize James Kidd, I was safe."

"Ya went to brothels out of disguise?"

"Well I can't bloody show up as James Kidd, an' reveal meself. Whores do chatter."

She paused momentarily, seeming to hesitate, "Women do the job fer me. Very well. But sometimes ye need more'n a few fingers thrust in there," she chuckled, her face reddening slightly.

"Hah!" Edward liked how openly he was talking to a woman about sex, "That's what ya got me for. Just send the word."

"Sure thin'! So I assume ye've not 'ad an experience with another man?" she asked teasingly, adding, "No need to actually divulge."

"I may have thought about it when the desire'd be overwhelming and we were out at sea, but I've never, in my memory, bedded a lad. Then again," he pondered playfully, "I could've while mind-drowned sloshed."

They laughed mischievously, "Aight, we'll leave 'at there," she took a long draw from her pipe, her grin easing, "Ye know," a little smoke wafted through her lips, "Since we can't always be in each other's presence- fer months at a time, sometimes- what d'ye say to bein' fine with an' outspoken 'bout us," she met his gaze carefully, "Beddin' others in the meantime?"

Edward's eyebrows raised in surprise.

'Because I'm thinkin', people've desire, an' I don't wish to put ye or meself in the situation o' findin' 'at we've lain with another an' feelin' conflicted 'bout it. So as long as we're each other's dearest, an' the other incidents are to ge' rid o' the randiness, so no emotional tie… What d'ye think?"

He snorted incredulously, "Mare. Do ya hear a word of what you're saying?"

She nodded firmly, "Aye, I've thought plenty 'bout it. I've 'eard of others doin' some'n similar. Maybe it'd work out. If we're open 'bout our… 'expeditions', aye. Unless yer certain ye can restrain yerself."

"Well, I can't say for sure," he answered truthfully, "I'll take up your offer, then. But if ever I lose interest in ya, I'd say so. Ya know I like life simple, and an affair-" he remembered that technically, this was an affair, "A greater number of affairs- does the opposite. Complicates things. It's enough being tied to Caroline. I've been pondering it a long while but I decided that I'll end what she and I have, in person, when I return," the next dash of tobacco tasted particularly good to him.

"Z'at so? Yer cer'ain ye'll be willin' to go through with it when ye actually stand in front of 'er an' utter ye don't want 'er no more?"

"Aye. Even when I make it back a rich man and gain her respect, the situation would still be difficult. But I've been in more taxing circumstances and emerged triumphant," Edward beamed with confidence.

The smirk she gave him made him aware: I'm talking about my wife to another woman I'm fond of and sleep with.

"This is a strange feeling, Mare: you're more like a best friend than a secret lover. Don't get me wrong- you're damn attractive, and it's good to simply know each other well, since good mates can trust each other with secrets. But it's strange that lovemaking ain't the prominent thing on my mind, no matter if you look to be James Kidd or Mary Read. It ain't bad, just different. Jaysus, this entire affair is different."

"Different'n with Caroline, ye mean?"

"Her… I don't know. Looking back on things, our trysts were boring and typical. What ya'd expect of spending time with a lass trying to woo her. I try not to compare the two of ya, especially not aloud. But I must say that with you, I don't feel like I have to impress ya. We can just have a good time, since we both know we care for each other no matter what. And damn, are ya one for adventure- much more my sort of thing. Put another way, we're mates like no other who just happen to also enjoy this sort of intimacy."

"Well I feel the same, mate," she nodded firmly, "I find this thinkin' o' yers pretty fascinatin'. I like when ye display yer intellect."

"It's from you. Damn contagious, it is."

"Even though ye've already potential. Yer mind is impressive, otherwise I wouldn't be this into ye."

"No, I'm no intellectual. You're damn impressive, Mare. I want to be more like ya in that regard."

"But not in the sense 'at ye want to be on me level so I'd want to lay with ye?

"Oh, no. No, I rely on charm for those endeavors."

"Hah! Well I want ye to aim to thrive- not fer any particular reason 'cept to be the bes' ye can be."

Edward nodded firmly at that. Looking out at the den, he noticed that it was particularly quiet. "The rain's stopped."

"So it 'as," Mary said plainly but also looked out to appreciate the coziness of the small hidden bay.

Then Edward began to gaze again at her feminine yet sturdy physique, cloths wrapped around her chest and pelvis. Even now he found it strange to think that James Kidd was a woman. He wondered, "Do ya have women on board?" Not to sleep with, I mean, but "as sailors or to keep order. Or any job, really. I can't remember from when ya had me sail the Matador whether ya did have any."

"Aside from me, no."

"No?" he thought, "I thought ya might."

"But I sometimes 'ave female passengers. If yer familiar with Rhona Dinsmore, an Assassin usually found in 'Avana, she's gone aboard occasionally to move 'round the islands. Me crew don't mind- the ones who stay are Assassins, an' the Assassins are a bunch welcomin' to lasses. Though, I find 'at many of our lady Assassins tend to stay in one area anyway, while the lads go 'round more."

"I see," he nodded, "Aye, I'm familiar with Rhona. Helped her drive away Templars," he could still visualize the best areas to place gunpowder barrels, "And the situation's similar with the Vance brothers in Nassau. Jaysus, they were a troublesome duo. Got the keys, though. Two settled. Three left."

"Swell! Speakin' o' Rhona, she knows I'm Mary. So ye can openly chatter 'bout me," she chuckled.

"No one among our mates knows? Like Thatch, Hornigold, Vane…?"

"No. 'Ell, Thatch don't welcome lasses on board- not jus' as a sailor, but at all. Rather superstitous."

"I didn't know that."

"Aye. Fer instance, he won't correct 'is crew if the men don't do this, but he makes a chore o' steppin' on the gangplank with his right foot," she smiled fondly, though the expression soon subsided, "Adé 'as it worse'n lasses, in a way. Ye can't alter the shade o' yer skin- well, people like us can, if we don't freckle- but one only goes darker'n what they're born with. Not lighter. The crew respects him nonetheless, aye?"

"Oh, aye. Anyone who voices resentment over him being quartermaster is… disciplined."

"Right," she nodded and thought of the Jackdaw crew, "Ah- 'ow goes Tobias?"

"Toby? I convinced him to reconnect with his family, sort out whatever past bitterness there used to be. We're headed to Nassau soon, and I'll ensure he follows up on his word."

"Lovely!" Mary exclaimed. She had a troubled look about her, however, "Apologies fer makin' ye go to 'Avana from Nassau, only to go back not long after."

"I'm having none of that. Jaysus, I'm the one who suggested this place and I obtained plenty during my voyage. A good 8000 reales worth, at least. I had plenty to gain. You?"

"Less'n 8000 reales worth, but the trip north from Jamaica earned me a profit of at leas' 25,000."

Shite! "Aye, there is more valuable cargo carried in that part of the sea, though it's shielded by more resilient wood. The Matador does well despite her size."

"Because o' quali'y equipment an' a quick-witted crew."

"A quick-witted crew that's not observant enough to realize their captain ain't a lad," Edward smirked and studied the smoking tobacco in the pipe, "Ya used ash to darken your eyelids that time in Kingston, aye?" Upon her nodding, he tilted the pipe forwards and tapped the mouthpiece, causing some soot to fall onto the cloth they sat on. Mary raised an eyebrow as he dipped his fingertip into the soot and smeared it on an eyelid, "Ah, Jaysus! Think I got some in my eye."

"'At's why ye wipe away the excess!" she smiled a slight, wicked smile, "Mate, along with what ye use to line yer eyes, ye've a damn dramatic look an' I like it."

As he applied the dark powder on his other eyelid, he felt he could brag that his skills in applying cosmetics improved, "Aye! Much better. Might ya have a mirror on ya?"

"None, unfortunately."

"Ah, pity. That makes ya the only one who can appreciate this magnificent face. Now, to rouge up my lips… There's that new wound on my arm," Edward brought his shoulder forward to have a good look at the sutured gash on his skin, "But I wouldn't want to undo John's work."

"John?"

"Our doctor aboard Jackie."

"Ah, I see. Well, ye look fine 'nuff without rouge," she smiled and thought back to their time in Kingston, when she last tinted her lips. Was that truly only a few weeks ago? Sailing north to Nassau seemed to have taken months. After their mischief in Kingston, she was convinced that they'd work out together, though she still contemplated whether or not to admit she'd been interested in him too. She mulled it over even as she tracked him down to talk to him properly again. Given all the thrills that have happened since traveling to Nassau, it seemed ages between now and then. Bearing in mind that they would long for each other when they were apart, she suggested, "We ought to keep in contact while we're away from each other. I'm keen on hearin' yer adventures, though we only run 'cross one 'nother e'ery so often."

"Agreed. We'll use them pigeons. Perhaps I can get my hands on that chemical ya used with your riddles in Havana."

"Pigeons, aye! Though I've a be'er chemical. It fades plain ink after a week. Even those in our Order who've received basic instruction in sharpenin' their extra sense can feel the words. So no need fer blood-lettin'."

"That would be preferable," said Edward with relief.

"'At chemical's be'er fer short-no'ice post. With the one I used in 'Avana, the paper don't need to soak in it fer days, since blood shows clearer in our special vision 'an plain ink. Now, I await the day our experts devise one 'at immediately dissolves the ink yet keeps the words intac'- ye know, fer 'em in our Order who haven't such a honed extra sense," she smiled wryly, "Anyway, I'll supply ye with one when I can."

"Right. How will we know where the other is?"

She pondered for several seconds, "Pity ships can't 'ave pigeon coops. It don't work 'at way, with ships constan'ly on the move… I s'pose we'll simply mention where we'll likely next be in the message. We know which areas've coops, aye?"

"Aye. I think that shall turn out well. For your first message, how about ya send it to the cages in Great Inagua ya showed me?"

"It's the coop in Tulum I showed ye. Ye don't 'ave one on yer island, from what I remember."

He thought about it and realized she was right, "Shite, I don't. I'll speak with the contractors about that soon. So post your first letter to Nassau."

"Bien. Hope this's effective."

"Aye."

Mentioning Great Inagua to Mary was particularly pleasurable, and he wondered why. It's because of that time she showed me my newly-conquered land, isn't it? When I didn't want to even think that I fancied James Kidd. It seems so long ago. "Remember when ya revealed your findings of Great Inagua to me?"

Mary nodded.

"In the weeks after that- the weeks before we met again, I admit I kept wishing to relive that day over and over again, it was such a good day. Of course, I had the stela as a memento, but it was you that made it special. It'd been so long since I felt that way."

"In love?" she raised an eyebrow and smiled dubiously, thinking how sickeningly mawkish it'd be if that's what he meant.

"Hm. Aye, that as well, but what I had in mind was 'thirsty for adventure.'"

"Ah. Ye had eyes only fer the fortune an' not the journey o' discovery'at leads ye to the fortune. But ye didn't see it at the time?"

"Did ya notice that back then?" Edward frowned a bit, "Damn. How is it you're so clever?"

"Is 'at some'n 'at needs explainin'?", she grinned playfully.

Where have I heard tha-! Ah, yes. After I asked how it is she's a woman. "Hah!" he laughed, thoroughly humored, "I thank the world I fell for ya, Mare. I never imagined I'd be enthralled by a cross-dressing lass, but now I can't imagine not fancying ya."

"Oh? Same 'ere. I ne'er thought I'd be into some cocksure fella like ye who made me spill me drink."

"Ya mean that scuffle at Old Avery? Ya got your revenge not five minutes after!"

"…An'?"

"Don't complain I made ya spill it."

"I ain't! It's jus' one part o' yer firs' impression that'd make it seem strange at firs' why I'd fancy ye la'er. Yer the one who seems still bitter about it, since ye accuse me. See- cocksure fella right 'ere!" She reached over and ruffled his already-tousled hair.

He snorted, "I ain't bitter either! And you're bloody perfect aren't ya, mate," he said sarcastically, but, reconsidering that statement, he added, "Ya kinda are, though, even with your upbringing."

Maybe because of it, Edward.

"Do divulge any weaknesses- ya know all mine, probably."

She chuckled, "I've flaws too, Edward- one of 'em not knowin' all yers. Though I do try to improve in the ways I ain't good at naturally. I wish I were more charismatic, fer one. An' more moral. An' wiser… Less tied up with petty desire."

Why would she wish to be wiser? Edward already thought Mary to be among the most sensible and intellectual people he's come across. Her last comment unsettled him more, though, "Petty desire?"

"Like me cravin' fer quali'y rum now an' then. Wishin' to listen to 'Star o' the County Down'in the tavern rather'n 'William Taylor.' To brandish a fancier-hilted cutlass. To feel the excitement o' sneakin' 'round where I oughtn't be," Hell, as much pleasure and success I find in sailing, there's more to gain from other pursuits, she sighed thoughtfully, "There are other trivial thin's I don't 'ave but want."

"Right-" Edward's smile and raised hand suggested an incoming tangential comment, "I thought that of all the people in the West Indies, ya'd be the one to most adore 'William Taylor.'"

Mary pulled a face and looked to the side, "The tune's lovely, but c'mon. A strong wind don't undo buttons. An' if she really wished to keep secret 'at she's a lass, she'd do a be'er job of it."

"Fair enough," he nodded, "But what's something you wish you had right now?" It had been a wonderful day for him, and he wanted to treat her to something nice.

"Well," she took a while to think, "Ye call me 'Mare,' aye? I am fond of 'orses, actually, an' 'aven't ridden one since leavin' England… An' I s'pose snow's a thin'."

"Snow?"

"Aye. Snow. So ridin' a horse in the snow'd give me two fixes at once," she chuckled.

"I've a solution."

---

* Ever heard of Saginaw, Michigan? Well, it's a song as well as a city, and the lyrics are basically this funny story.

** I took inspiration from the song Step it Out Mary. If you listen to it (go for the High Kings version), Saginaw, Michigan (go for Lefty Frizzell's version), and songs by High Highs (you should check out the 2013 Pacífico commercial featuring Open Season), you can get a feel of how varied my taste in music can get. And this is the half of my iTunes library that isn't from the soundtracks of video-games, movies, TV shows, and such.

*** I read that corsets back then flattened the torso, rather than making the torso appear more shapely. Yes, I did research on the history of underwear.

Okay, what are Adé and the crew up to while Edward's running around the islands? I figured that while Edward is roaming around town, some of his crew is helping load supplies and stuff while the other crewmen drink and have fun. The crew should have had a larger role in the game. Should have been shown exploring the places they go on their own and all. But at the same time, not specifying what they do does give players room for imagination…

I'm into astrology, and Mary's pretty-much-canon year of birth, 1690, is the year of the horse! I like to think it's her spirit animal.

Primark? More like, Primary.

I'm losing track of the way I'm writing out everyone's way of speaking, so I'm going back to previous chapters to sort it out.
"Ace, your consistency…"
I know, I know!

Happy Halloween! Many apologies for the delay in this update. I tried to release this two days ago on the 29th of October to commemorate the release of the game, but this is a massive chapter. I thought it would get to be at most 6,000 words as it's mostly dialogue, but it ended up nearly three times as long. I kept wanting our two leads to discuss more and more topics, in more and more detail. Another reason for the delay is that I moved abroad, while I helped my parents look for and move into their own new place. I'm aiming to release the next chapter within eight weeks. Since I can write plenty around Christmas, we'll see if I can't do a monthly update again after then.