AN:
For those of you who have followed this story from the beginning (or those who have read through it recently) today is the 3rd anniversary of my little sister's brain surgery! She's doing great and has the green light from her neuro surgeon to live her life. Shout out to any Chiari Malformation survivors who may be reading this. I know second-hand how strong you are.
Enjoy chapter 10!
Song: Antichrist - The 1975
A month passed, and things changed on the island. After a very brief discussion with Mary during which they both immediately agreed on their course of action – a somewhat rare occurrence – Edward had extended an invitation to the Brotherhood to move their temporary base of operations to Great Inagua so that they could gather their bearings. Tulum was no longer safe, thanks to his own past errors. The first boatload of Assassins had arrived early that October morning, though most remained in the Yucatan until the details of their stay could be sorted. This would be their best chance of rebuilding the local Order to its former glory, back before he stuck his neck into the mix of things.
After settling some of his guests into their houses by the bay, Edward made his way back to the main house. He climbed the long stone staircase as was met with a sight that warmed his heart. Mary was seated at the table on the patio outside, drinking with some of their men as well as some of her old friends in the brotherhood. She was wearing her usual disguise as James Kidd. Though the Assassins were clued into her true identity, it was still best that the crew remain in the dark. All in the know had been warned to stay tight-lipped about it. Her eyes caught his and he could see the smile in them that she kept from the rest of the world at the sight of him. He clapped her on the shoulder as he passed on his way to speak to Ah Tabai and Adéwalé, who were leaning on the banister as they surveyed their new home. It was a pleasure to see them both, especially his old quartermaster and friend.
"Gentlemen," Edward greeted his old friends. "How do you find it here?"
"It will work for us," Ah Tabai answered confidently. "But our goal must be to scatter our operations. To live and work among the people we protect, just as Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad once counseled."
Edward smiled and nodded. Mary had told him some about this Altaïr, a greatly respected forefather of their Order. He sounded like a wise man, one to be followed. Besides, Kenway had always found the bureaus… charming. The West Indies could benefit from more of them. "Well until that time comes, it's yours as you see fit."
Ah Tabai nodded gratefully, and as Edward was about to turn away, Adé injected, "Edward… Captain Woodes Rogers survived his wounds. He has since returned to England… shamed and in great debt, but no less a threat."
That came as a shock. That particular target's end in Kingston had seemed rather… final. What a disappointment. And an irritation. He nodded understandingly to his former quartermaster. "I will finish that job when I eventually return. You have my word." He parted then from his friends, perturbed by that news.
He strode over to the table and seated himself by his new quartermaster. "Evening, Kidd," he greeted her.
She smiled and set down her bottle. "Kenway," she returned.
He sat quietly for a moment, nervous to speak. The rest of the table seemed drunk and distracted, but he signaled for her to follow him to the garden anyway. They stood, and he took her hand as soon as they were around the corner and out of sight of their crew. They settled on a bench beneath the study window that looked out onto the grounds.
"What is it, Edward?" she asked, a puzzled expression gracing her face.
"Rogers," he grunted. "He's alive."
Mary let out a frustrated growl, and her gaze bore into the ground. "Blast. I swore we had him. How did he escape?"
"That young couple that discovered us must have gotten there just moments too soon." He hesitated to speak his true intentions. He hadn't discussed this next step with her. The future. "Regardless, I've told the Mentor I'd take care of it… In London."
Mary turned back to him, a small light of anger in her eyes. "You're leaving?"
He nodded sheepishly. "Eventually, yes. That was always the plan. I… I'd be a hopeful man if you'd come with me."
Sadness washed across her face and his heart sank into his boots. "Edward… I can't. Not yet. I have business here. Rebuilding the Order. My daughter… I'm needed here."
Edward nodded slowly, conflicted but understanding. He tried to swallow down his emotions. He couldn't have her making her choices for his benefit. If she were ever to join him in England, he needed her to want it for herself. "And you're needed with me, too. I won't leave your side again, not if I can avoid it. Your business is mine as well."
Mary looked confused again. "So you're staying?"
He squeezed her hand too. "Your daughter is my first priority now. I won't go anywhere unless I can take you with me, and I would never ask you to leave without her."
She leaned in and kissed him. "Thank you, Edward. Give me a year. I'll find her in that time, and next October we'll sail for a new life in London."
Joy swelled in his chest. He could see it, the life he'd always dreamed of. A comfortable life, influence, purpose, a strong woman by his side. For so many years he thought he'd have that in Great Inagua with Caroline. It was so different from the life that lay ahead of him, with Mary and the London Brotherhood.
He could wait a year to have that.
An image stuck him and he laughed. "How are we ever going to fit you into London society if we can't get you in a dress?" He thought back to their raid on Kingston, and how she'd hated the green gown she'd robbed Cortessa Ferraro of, along with her life.
She chuckled too. "Oh, how the women will gossip. Tessa Kenway, with her scars and trousers…"
His heart skipped. He hadn't imagined she'd contemplated their future the way he had. "You… You'd take my last name?"
Her expression dropped when she realized what she'd said, but she recovered just as fast. "Well, wait and see where we're at next year. But right now, I don't want to be without you. So don't make me change my mind…" she jabbed at him teasingly. "and we'll talk about this in more detail when the time comes."
He grinned broadly, his happiness threatening to choke him. "A year then. Deal."
"Deal," she agreed, sealing it with a kiss before leading him back to their friends.
"Sail ho!" a crewman shouted from the banister. "Coming into the port!"
The pair exchanged confused glances and darted forward. Indeed, a black flag peaked up from the horizon, bearing the assassin insignia.
"I didn't think we were expecting anyone more today," Edward puzzled.
"We're not," Mary confirmed, making her way toward the path to the port. He followed closely at her heels. They jogged down the hill and through the shanty town. Their footsteps on the dock echoed against the water below, and they paused at the end just as the ship pulled through the mouth of the cove. Her breath caught when she recognized it. "That's Ikal's vessel!"
He gave her a questioning glance, peering back at the ship trying to identify the Mayan man with the crooked nose among the crew on board. "I thought you didn't get along with Ikal."
"Aye, not exactly," she confirmed. "We came to blows on more than one occasion, usually about your involvement with the Order," she gave him a punctuating look to remind him again of all the trouble he'd caused for their brothers over the years. "But he knows the underbelly of Havana better than most."
Edward caught on then. "He's been helping you search for Torres' correspondent."
"Aye." She looked like she wanted to leap into the water and meet the ship halfway.
He placed a hand on her back to keep her in place. Insecurities that he had shoved down and hidden away for months began to resurface. The past few weeks with Mary had been effortless, a dream. Confirming their love for each other had amplified every aspect of their relationship, both the good and the bad. When they fought, they nearly took the roof off the house, but they made up just as quickly and the times of peace and comfort between rows got longer and steadier with each reconciliation. In a way, being with her wasn't much different than commanding the Jackdaw together had been. They came home to each other each night, made decisions as a unit, worked as a team to accomplish shared goals. But getting to be close to her while they did it all, getting to care for her and be cared for in return, it was a gift he didn't take for granted. Their relationship had barely changed, but she'd changed his whole outlook on life. She gave him hope for the future.
He didn't want to think it, and felt guilty for the thought of it crossing his mind, but this child could threaten all that. Her priorities as a parent would supersede her responsibilities to the crew, to the Assassins, to him. He didn't have children, himself, and couldn't possibly understand what it was like to be pulled in that many directions at once, so he was trying to have compassion for her. Besides, the Assassins worked as one in rearing the next generation, teaming up as a village to care for the children of their brothers and sisters so that no man or woman would be restricted in carrying out their duties. He had even done some babysitting during his time training in Tulum the previous year. But this wasn't just Mary's child. It was another man's as well. And he knew better than to hold an innocent girl's parentage against her, but… She should have been his. He was loathe to think himself possessive over Mary's womb, and knew she'd cut his throat without hesitation if he suggested he might be, but he wanted to cut it himself imagining that his mistakes may have cost him this as well, the chance to be that little girl's father. If he'd sorted himself just a year sooner…
More than anything, he feared he wouldn't be able to love this girl. That she would always stand as a representation of the damage he'd wrought in his youth.
If he couldn't, Mary would never forgive him for it. It was just that: unforgiveable.
Minutes later, the vessel was docking. No sooner had they tied down than Ikal showed his face, climbing out from below deck. He noticed them and waved in acknowledgement, leaving them to wait in anticipation while he gave orders to his men before joining them on the dock.
The look he gave Edward was only slightly less disgusted than their last meeting at Anne's funeral. "Kenway," he gave a curt nod. "I heard of your victory over Torres. He was a wart on the face of a beautiful city. I'm not sad to see him gone." Not exactly a thank you, but Edward returned the nod in an equally curt fashion. Most of the Brotherhood had warmed to him, but as it turned out some were more icy than others.
Ikal turned then to Mary and procured a letter from his coat. "This is your man. Inside is his name and address. That's all I know. You'll have to go from here on your own."
Mary took the paper and held it almost reverently. "You've done me a great service, brother."
"As you've done the order a great many, sister." He spoke to her with respect, despite their obvious differences of opinion. "If you'll excuse me, I have matters to address with the Mentor. Where can I find him?"
"He should be at the main house," she answered. "We weren't expecting you, but I'm sure he'll be pleased to see you."
Ikal bowed his head politely and excused himself.
Edward released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "Well, he wasn't entirely unpleasant."
"I think you'll find most people you disagree with aren't inherently terribly people," Mary countered, but her tone was distant and distracted. She fingered the paper and stared out across the water.
"Are you ready?" he asked.
"To open it?" she clarified. "No, I'll wait until we reach cuba. To be with my daughter? I've been ready since I discovered I was pregnant. To be a mother? I'm not sure…"
"Well there's only one way to answer that last one." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Shall I tell the men to prepare for departure?"
"Aye, if they can be on the water by tomorrow, I'd like to be." She smiled at him and her gaze trailed back toward the horizon, toward Havana. He squeezed her hand and turned to walk away, but she spoke again, stopping him. "We picked names, you know. Me and Anne."
"Oh?" he asked, intrigued. "What were they?"
"Anne was so certain she was having a boy," she recalled with a sad smile and a single laugh. "She wouldn't even consider what she might name a girl. She was having a boy and his name would be Haytham. That was that."
"Haytham," Edward smiled too. "I like that name."
"I did too," she agreed, looking over to him with a thoughtful expression.
"What name did you choose, were you to have a boy?"
"Mark." Her tone was sad. "After my late brother."
"A strong name," he affirmed. "But you had a girl. You never told me you'd named her. What did you choose for a daughter?"
She looked back across the water. "I named her Jennifer."