The Third Life: The Boy Pirate

Ah, it's so good to be back in the writing saddle that I can't express it in words.

Also…1,000 REVIEWS, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN!

This marks the second time this milestone has been reached in my career, and I thank all of you most kindly and strongly for your support through thick and thin.

Moving on to business, some have expressed a desire for a more humorous route in this story after so much grittiness, and I am here to say: that was the plan all along for the Third Life arc. Humor, fun, and the most gratuitous parody since Gintama.

I'm sure many of you might've made the connection but here's for those that missed it:

Jake Swallow is a pun of Jack Sparrow.

And much more to come with that one. To wrap up, Jake is wearing Captain Morgan's Redingote outfit, equipped with the Pistol Swords and four Spanish Officer flintlocks, two at his hips like Connor, and two more at the back of his waist like in the Black Flag trailer, with the swords being on his back like a ninja's. Jake's ship will be revealed this chapter.

Disclaimer: I don't own PJO or AC

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Nassau

September, 1715

Edward's eyes widened at Jake's solid claim of having been to the Observatory. "Really?"

"Really, really."

The blonde pirate broke into a wide grin. "Well, then, what are we waiting for? Let's get going!"

"Yeah, no."

Edward's elation went crashing like a ship against the rocks. "Why not?"

Jake gave the man an amused look. "Why on Earth would I take any of you to the Observatory?"

The young pirate leaned against the wooden post of the tavern, arms crossed and expectant of a good answer.

"Because your lying," Thatch said bluntly. "You ain't been to this Observatory any more than I've been fucked by an ass."

"Well I don't know, Thatch. I hear you keep a donkey on your ship at all times, and I doubt it's because the thing smells good."

The future Blackbeard's face purpled. "What'd you say to me, boy?"

The man stepped forward to throttle Jake, but James threw a hand across Thatch's chest, holding him back with surprising strength for a young man. "Easy, man. There's no use to in blowing your top over a jab. Since you want no part of the Observatory, why don't you go make yourself useful elsewhere, hm?"

Thatch cast a lingering glare at Jake and rumbled off to occupy himself elsewhere.

James cast a withering glower at Jake.

"What?" the boy asked indignantly.

"Stop picking fights with no cause behind them, Jake."

The young pirate displayed with superior maturity by sticking his tongue out.

Edward spoke in a thin voice, tired of the shenanigans. "The Observatory, mates."

"Right," Jake said. "Why should I take any of you?"

"Think of the plunder, man," Edward said with such disbelief in his voice. It was obvious in his mind: the big score, the possibilities of said score, the future beyond. How could anyone not want to go to the Observatory and claim the prizes? Just…how? "With all the gold we could get from the Observatory, we could all retire early and not worry about kings or crowns oppressing us or trying to hang us?"

Jake stared at Edward, before he tossed his head back. "HA!" he barked a short laugh. "Hahahaha…heh…haha…ha…yeah, I'm disinclined to acquiesce to that request."

"What?"

"It means 'no.'"

Edward became heated.

"See here, mate-!"

"I seeing, and I ain't liking. You think the Observatory is a treasure room laden with gold and valuables. I can see the greed in your eye, Kenway, and as much as I like you, I ain't bringing you with that state of mind to the Observatory."

"What exactly is the Observatory?" Hornigold finally spoke. All this talk of the damn place without an explanation of what the hell it was had driven him nearly insane.

Jake gave the man a flat look. "With a name like 'Observatory,' you tell me what you think it is."

Ben exhaled. "I curse the day I taught you sarcasm."

"Indeed. You have only yourself to blame," Jake said sagely.

"Well, based on the name, I imagine you observe," Hornigold answered. "But what do you observe?"

"People," Jake answered simply. "Get the right ingredients, and you can watch anyone, at any time, at any place, for however long you want. Perfect for catching your wife cheating on you, your sailors talking bad about you, and the rich people having their parties."

The three pirates were now very much enraptured.

Hornigold was the voice of reason. "How do you know all this?"

"Because I've used it before."

"When?" James demanded. "Where? Why?"

Jake returned that withering glower from minutes previous. "As much as I like you, and as much as I dislike Edward's monetary disposition, I'm more willing to tell him about it than you."

"…why?" Edward said stupidly.

Jake inspected his nails. "Oh, Sis knows why."

"Sis?" Hornigold asked.

James hissed. "I told you not to call me that."

"Yeah, but it gets under your skin, and it's fun to watch."

Now that it was established that 'Sis' was purely a malicious pet name, the conversation moved on with Jake saying:

"Besides, none of you have the ships necessary for the voyage. Hornigold, your Benjamin—stupid, by the way, naming your ship after yourself—isn't big enough for the supplies, nor does it have the cannons. James, you don't even have a ship. And Edward, the Jackdaw is big enough, but it's sorely lacking in guns, armor, and personnel."

"And I suppose you have a worthy ship for this epic mystery voyage, then?" Edward asked.

Jake grinned, the gleam returning. "Aye."

"Little Jake Swallow, the youngest and most unknown pirate of the West Indies has a ship," Hornigold said skeptically. "This I gotta see. Ten reals says it's a glorified canoe."

"You're on, Benji."

And so the pirates followed Jake down to the docks, where all the ships were moored. Edward's Jackdaw was there, along with Hornigold's Benjamin, and several schooners of other sailors, along with one really big one that belonged to the British presence. And there was a lone gunboat.

"Behold," Jake said proudly, brandishing a hand at the gunboat, "my ship."

Edward, James, Ben, and Adéwalé, Thatch, Rackham, and Vane, all of who had joined en route when they saw the procession, stared at the meager gunboat…and all of them proceeded to guffaw. Some grabbed their sides, others had to double over and brace themselves on their knees, and Rackham fell over.

And then someone called, "Ahoy, Cap'n!"

Jake grinned. "Ahoy, Mr. Biggs!"

The pirates' laughter came to an abrupt halt when the call came from the galleon, which was on the other side of the gunboat. Along the railing of the galleon, several other men appeared, all looking down at Jake with looks of warmth and happiness.

The young pirate grinned, almost evilly, his eyes sparking with triumphant malice. "Behold, gentlemen…my ship."

All gazes turned to the massive boat. Triple-masted, twenty visible gun ports on the portside alone, the hull painted sickly green, like seaweed, the furled sails colored the same, and the figurehead at the prow was that of a mermaid's skeleton, ominous and eerie, brandishing twin swords. The ship was huge, an easy estimate of a hundred and seventy feet, and she was clearly built to take damage, and dish it back out three-fold.

Edward was able to find his voice first. "What…how…?"

"In order: that would be a ship, and I stole her from the Spanish. The devils had the nerve to try and scrap her and use her for parts. I decided that's no fair fate for a beauty and rescued her. She's been good to me and my crew ever since."

"What's her name, lad?"

"The Running Frenchman."

Edward and the rest of the pirates stared at Jake, who was staring dreamily at his massive ship.

"You're serious?"

"Yes, Thatch. I thought about calling her the Flying Dutchman, but that was already taken, and Black Pearl doesn't fit because she ain't black, and Interceptor just sounds stupid, so I decided to play with words a little bit."

There was silence for a little bit, before Thatch exclaimed, "Well, all righty then! With Kenway's Jackdaw, Hornigold's Benjamin, Vane's Ranger, and your Running Frenchman, we have the makings of our very own fleet!"

Jake tilted his head, the feather in his hat moving. "'We?' I don't recall ever being invited into this Pirate Confederacy of yours. Something about being too young and small."

"Jake Swallow, captain of the Running Frenchman, we here of Nassau humbly extend invitation to you to become a member of our confederacy," Hornigold said.

The young pirate turned to his crew and shouted. "Hey, asshats! Y'all want to be part of a pirate confederacy?"

There was muffled debate from the crew, until Mr. Biggs shouted down, "Aye!"

"Excellent. We're all in agreement then." Jake grinned. "I humbly accept your most gracious offer, Sir Hornigold. You also owe me ten reals, since my ship is nowhere near the same class of a canoe."

Ben forked over the owed money, Jake pocketed it, and he caught sight of how Jack Rackham was looking at the Running Frenchman. He didn't say anything, but he filed away the happening for use later on. The greedy bastard would probably try to steal her somehow, not that he was smart enough to pull it off.

"Right then, now that we have my standing here squared away, what next?" Jake asked.

"We need to focus on the Jackdaw," Hornigold said. "Right now, she's the least manned, the least armored, and the least weaponized. She needs armaments if we're going to defend Nassau from the likes of Kings Philip and George, and to get such armaments, we need money."

"Aye," Jake said. "Sounds like we're going plundering."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Not a full ten minutes later, the Jackdaw was out in the open water, Edward at the helm, Adéwalé to his right, Hornigold to the left, and Jake between Edward and former slave. The young pirate had left his Running Frenchman and his crew at Nassau, opting to join Edward in his ship.

"Considering the guns you've got, I'd say the only ships we can go after are schooners. Gunboats aren't worth the trouble, since they're barely big enough to hold their own ammunition, and brigs are questionable. You can forget about frigates and man-o'-wars, and you can put the really big ships out of your mind for good."

Edward looked at Jake. "Really big ships?"

Jake gained a gleam in his eye. "Mm-hm. The HMS Prince, La Dama Negra, HMS Fearless and her sister the Royal Sovereign, and the biggest, baddest bitch of them all:" Jake paused for dramatic effect, "…El Impoluto."

At the name of the massive Spanish ship, the warm air of the afternoon West Indies seemingly chilled.

"How do you know of such vessels?" Hornigold asked.

The gleam in Jake's eye intensified, and his grin became ever more sinister. "That 'cause I sank the Prince."

Everyone that heard that stopped to stare. Then Adéwalé yelled, "Rocks, captain!"

Edward yanked the wheel, sharp to port, narrowly avoiding those pesky, random juts of rocks that poked up from the seafloor. The blonde regarded the mixed young man. "You sank the HMS Prince?"

"The Running Frenchman is a bad bitch, her crew even badder, and her captain the baddest," Jake boasted.

Edward, Hornigold, and Adéwalé shared a look, all of them not fully believing Jake's claim of having sank a ship like the Prince, yet none of them finding enough solid ground to form a dispute of that claim.

Seeing that this line of questioning was going nowhere fast, Hornigold forged on with giving Edward tips and pointers for taking down a ship without sinking her, then boarding her successfully while maintaining an air of command and terror.

"Now use your spyglass and find us a ripe prize," Hornigold instructed.

Edward produced said spyglass, scanned the horizon, and found a schooner. "There, the San Felipe."

"Cargo?"

"Thirty barrels of rum, and fifteen crates of sugar."

Jake looked at Edward. "How, exactly, can you tell that just by looking at her with that spyglass?"

"Don't question it."

"I'm questioning it."

"Don't."

"Well, a better question: I plundered a schooner the other day that was also called San Felipe, with the exact same set of cargo. What are the odds of this schooner and that schooner having the same name and same cargo?"

"Slim to none," Edward said. "All hands, battle stations!"

Jake frowned at being blown off like that.

The battle with the schooner was short, even with the Jackdaw's limited firepower, and when the San Felipe became crippled and Edward ordered the boarding party to do their thing, Jake refused to be left out. "I call the swivel!"

He took the small cannon before anyone could say otherwise and fired each of the given shots of the standard swivel, and managed to kill enough Spaniards that they surrendered even before the crew of the Jackdaw finished reeling the San Felipe in.

On board the Spanish vessel, Hornigold gave a mighty and terrifying speech, only to realize that no one had a clue as to what he was saying, and the only Spaniard that had an inkling of a clue didn't have enough of it, which spurned Hornigold's frustration.

"Oh, for fuck's sake…"

Jake snorted. "Here, let me try."

He cleared his throat and spoke in perfect Spanish. "All of you remain calm and cooperate without complaint or resistance, and you all get to live to see whatever family you have. Got it?"

There was a chorus of "Si!" from the yellow-clad sailors.

"Where did you learn Spanish?" Hornigold asked.

"From my Spanish crew. Duh."

"Oh, well my mistake, Captain Swallow."

"And don't you damn forget it, Benji."

After the schooner, Edward got bold and attacked a brig, eeking out victory after a hardy struggle. Following the brig, Hornigold instructed the captain of the Jackdaw to sail to the nearby Salt Key Bank, so as to lower notoriety. To which Jake voiced opposition.

"Wouldn't it make more sense to be as notorious as possible? That way, with as fearsome a reputation as we can get, the kings we're fighting against won't be so fast to send ships after us, and the captains they do send won't be happy to have to fight us? And even with all the ships coming after us, couldn't we just take them and add them to our fleet?"

"Good enough points, lad," Hornigold said, "but no. We're still building Nassau up, and we don't have the manpower needed to operate more than a few vessels and attracting more attention than we can handle is a great way to have our dream shattered before it can begin in earnest. And we're not fighting against any kings; we're declaring ourselves free from them."

Jake smirked without humor. "The only ones here that have a clue about freedom is me and Adé….I still say we can take whatever comes our way."

"That brig put up quite a fight, Jake," Edward said.

"Yeah, and my Running Frenchman would've ruined that brig with a single broadside."

"Well, we can't all have a ship as grand and powerful as yours, now can we?" Hornigold asked rhetorically.

"Sure, we could. Just have to have balls and brains to pull it off."

"…you think too simply, boy," Hornigold said with all the weight and wisdom of his years as a man on the sea.

"And you think too complexly, old man."

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After bribing a crooked official, Edward caught wind of a plan by James to raid a nearby plantation, which in turn meant Jake caught wind of it as well.

"Why look!" the blonde exclaimed upon finding James and a few other pirates roasting fish on sticks on a nearby beach off Salt Key. "It's the bastard son of the late William Kidd! Still a mere boy, and yet…" Edward propped a leg on a crate. "…ten times the demon his father ever was."

Edward grabbed a fish stick and took a bite, then handed it back over.

Jake made a face at the eating of the fish. He was two-thirds a son of Poseidon, after all.

James sniffed and commented about Edward's Assassin robes, only for Edward to admit that he took them off a man he killed. The conversation moved along, with Edward asking James about plantation raids and secrets, and before James could speak, Jake did.

"Let me guess: Beckford."

Edward saw the look James gave Jake. It was a look of warning and concern.

"Stay out of this one, Jake."

"Yeah, no. If it's Beckford we're talking about, I'm all in."

"No, boy," James said, tighter.

"I'm missing something here, aren't I?" Edward said.

"Beckford's a slaver, as you know," Jake said, "and I was born into slavery, and my master and him were not on good terms. Bastard had some men try to kidnap me in the middle of the night. Nowadays I get back at him any way I can, and if that means raping his plantation storehouses, then that's awesome."

Edward didn't see a problem with that and looked to Kidd.

Kidd responded, "The problem is the mess he makes while there."

"The mess?" Edward raised a brow.

"Those swords and pistols aren't for show. He knows how to use them."

"You're damn right I know how to use them."

"In excess," James stressed. "You go out of your way to kill everyone on site!"

"And?" Jake argued. "They're slavers or soldiers being paid to do a job. Dying in a raid carried out by pirates is an occupational hazard, and they know the risks. Seems fair to me."

"That isn't the point, Jake," James scolded.

Edward was detecting an air maternity around the son of William, and it was confusing since said man was a man, and not a woman.

"No, the point is not drawing attention to yourself, but here's the thing," Jake put a finger to his temple and smiled. "No one will notice…if there's no one to notice."

James growled in frustration. "And slaughtering everyone present is unnecessary."

"Yeah and plundering the ships of the Spanish and English for profit is unnecessary, and yet here we are."

"Okay, you two," Edward broke in, both annoyed with the bickering and confused as to why it was happening. "Jake, go help Thatch and Hornigold with whatever they need. James, quit trying to tell the lad what to do. We're trying to build a civilization because we don't want people telling us what to do."

Kidd scowled at being told off like that, while Jake just sniffed.

There was only one plantation around these parts worthy of note, anyway, and the odds of it being the one in question were wide to all. But, Jake referred to James as Sis for a reason far deeper than amusement at the 'man's' irritation. As such, Jake would honor Mary's request of not raiding the plantation with Edward…at least this time.

Besides, plantation raids were a pain in the ass, with you having to sneak all around, find the key holder, unlock the barn, get your men inside, have them start stealing crates, get them back to the ship all in one piece, all with the risk of being caught mid-heist, and then everyone had to drop what they were doing and fight for their lives.

Honestly, it was easier just to kill everyone on site.

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Evening would come to the West Indies before Edward met with the rest of the pirates on Salt Lagoon. A fire burned calmly in the sand, while Thatch drank, James sat on a, Adéwalé lounged in the sand, and Jake was cuddling with a sea turtle that looked happy where it was. Edward ignored that one.

The pirate that would be known as Blackbeard raised his bottle of run. "Here's to our pirate republic, lads. We're prosperous and free, and out of reach of kings, clergy, and debt collectors."

"Near five-hundred men now pledge their allegiance to Brethren of the Coast of Nassau," James informed. "Not a bad number."

"Truth," Thatch agreed. "But we lack sturdy defenses."

"We can make turtle armor," Jake suggested. He tapped the creature's shell. "It's very sturdy stuff."

Adéwalé grinned. "I doubt there are enough sea turtles in all the world to make enough armor for a ship."

"True. And it'd be really sad to kill so many just for so little, wouldn't it, Mr. T?"

The turtle made a turtle sound of agreement.

"Mr. T?" Thatch asked, dubiously. "Seriously?"

"Yes, seriously. I'll just call you Scragglybeard from now on."

The pirate frowned. "My beard ain't scraggly."

Jake shrugged. "Give it time."

Thatch threw his bottle at the young pirate, who caught it, chirped a quick "Thanks!" took a swig, made a face, and spat it out in the sand.

"How you people drink that horse piss is beyond me."

Edward grinned. "Give it time. You'll acquire the taste."

"Blegh!"

The blond turned back to Thatch. "You were talking about defenses?"

"Aye. If the king were to attack the town, he'd trample us."

"All the more reason to find the Observatory," Edward insisted, sending a pointed look at the youngest.

"Oh, for the love of God, Eddie!" Jake exclaimed. "I'm not taking you to the stupid Observatory! Besides, for what you have in mind, it's impractical."

Edward's brow furrowed. "How so?"

"Because, with the fastest ships in the world, it'd take months to get there, and then months more to do anything with whatever we got out of the Observatory."

Edward and James both correctly deciphered that to mean that the Observatory was somewhere across the oceans.

"Ah, finally! Some sense!" Thatch said. "However, Hell must be freezing over if sense is coming from the likes of you."

"Bite me, old man."

Thatch made a face and moved on. "Anyway. I'm talking real defenses. A whole galleon, with all the guns shifted to one side, anchored in one of the harbors. It'd make a fine ornament."

"Well, we already have a galleon," Jake said. "But I'm not letting her get anchored. Defeats the whole purpose of what a ship is."

"Just what is a ship to you?" Adéwalé asked.

Jake smiled. "Freedom."

The word resonated with the former slave, and he could see the knowing look in the boy's eyes, and he felt the kinship between them. Adéwalé nodded, no understanding he was in the presence of kindred spirit: a fellow slave now free from his master.

"Stealing a whole Spanish galleon will not be easy," Adéwalé observed, looking at Thatch. "Do you have such a ship in mind?"

"I do, sir," came the sure answer.

Blackbeard's eyes gleamed. "She's a fussock, she is. Fat and slow…"

Everyone boarded the Jackdaw to go look for Thatch's mystery ship, El Arca del Maestro, and there was idle conversation during the trip, with Jake throwing his two cents in every now and then.

Thatch and Adéwalé spoke of diving, and the boy commented, "It's a whole other world down there, my friends. Beautiful, mysterious, and very, very terrifying."

"How so?" Edward asked.

"Well," Jake smiled in recollection, "for one, you can't be wearing any clothes down there beyond some trousers. You'll get weighted down and won't be able to swim. Two, pistols are useless since the powder gets wet. Three, it's hard to swing a sword down there, with the water pushing against you, so you can't really defend yourself from anything that wants to eat you, like sharks or eels. Four, there's your breath to worry about. And then five…"

Jake became serious, face and shoulders settling, his eyes becoming far off and dark.

"…when you're down there in those depths, you get reminded of how insignificant you are. You look out over the floor, and there's nothing but an endless expanse of darkness and water. You feel small down there, powerless, helpless. You look around you and you wonder why you aspire to do anything in life, because against the vastness and majesty of the ocean, nothing you ever accomplish will come close to matching…"

After tense silence, Edward said, "Damn."

And everyone went back to looking for El Arca del Maestro, trying to push Jake's solemn words to the backs of their minds.

Soon enough, the Jackdaw, entered a squall, and the rain was cold and it bit against the skin. The waves tossed the ship about, and the lighting created a constant fear of the mainmast being struck ablaze. In the down poor, the search for the Spanish ship was difficult, but it was accomplished.

Jake's appreciative whistle went unheard over the storm, but not his words. "The Running Frenchman could take her. I'll admit she might get some scratches, but she'd win."

"Sure, she could," Thatch said dubiously.

"Hey, if she handled something like the Prince, she can handle this bitch."

"Right. The HMS Prince. I suppose you get some kind of proof of that claim?"

"Yeah. Ask everyone on my ship about the battle, and then go look for the Prince. You won't find her anywhere except the seafloor."

"Enough, you two," Edward broke in, breaking yet another argument between Jake and someone else. "Focus on the task at hand."

"You mean the one where we stay on this bitch's ass and hope we don't get spotted?"

"The very same."

"Would someone please explain to me why no one on a ship ever looks behind them to see if they're being followed by another ship? I mean, it's not exactly like we're hard to spot."

"Well," Adéwalé started, "this whole time, have you once looked behind us to see if we were being followed?"

"No…"

"And why not?"

"Because I haven't thought about it…"

"Precisely. It isn't a common thought to look behind. Only to the sides and forward."

"Wise words, Adé," Edward praised.

"Thank you, Captain."

The tail continued in silence as the blonde barked commands as needed, and the next thing that happened of note was Charles Vane's appearance, and subsequent retreat.

"Honestly," Jake snarked. "The man had a brig and a couple of gunboats. Did he really think he was going to bring down a man-o'-war that size?"

"Vane isn't known for his intelligence," Thatch said.

"Finally," Jake breathed. "We agree on something."

There was a scuffle with some gunboats later, and a terse moment of avoiding mortar fire, and it all left Jake lamenting how the Jackdaw needed A) more guns, and B) more powerful guns. It took multiple volleys to bring down a single gunboat, and the swivels didn't immediately blow apart the enemy ships with a single shot to exposed weak spots.

But anyway.

Edward collapsed his spyglass. "She's heading for that island."

"I know the place," Thatch said. "It's a natural stronghold used by a French captain named du Casse."

Edward turned. "Julien du Casse? The Templar?"

"Name's right. Didn't know he had a title," Thatch said, eyeing Kenway.

"Everyone's got a title in some way, old man," Jake said. "The question is: just what does that title mean to others?"

Edward met the boy's eye. "I know the man from Havana. If he sees my ship he may recognize her from the treasure fleet, and he may link it back to me. I can't risk that."

"Uh, he was firing mortars at us…I think that means he saw your ship."

"All the more reason to kill him."

"Sweet. Now or later?"

"Later."

"If you say so. I think you and I could swim to the ship, climb up the sides, and kill everyone on board without a scratch on us."

Jake was on the receiving end of several disbelieving stares. "What?"

"Mate, what you just said is both stupid and impossible," Edward said.

"Puh-lease. You've done it before, Eddie, taking on outrageous numbers of men and coming out alive. Not even breathing hard, too."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Edward killed du Casse and claimed the whole island for himself, and Thatch took the galleon's guns, and would eventually beach the ship on Abaco Island…for some reason. It made more sense to keep the ship and give it to someone else, adding it to Nassau's fleet. But anyway.

With a whole island to call his own now, Edward didn't know what to do with himself, though he was already rambling about plans of grandeur.

"We could keep a fleet here if we liked," Kenway thought aloud. "With a bit of fixing up, it'd even be a decent place to call home." Then, as an afterthought, "Might even convince my wife to come here one day."

"You're married?" Jake said incredulously. "Now that I know that, my opinion of you has now lowered."

"Why?" Edward sounded a little wounded.

Jake scoffed. "You're greedy, only in anything for yourself, whatever you do is for your benefit alone, and you don't care if others are hurt because of your actions. You're the dictionary definition of a scoundrel, and you're married, apparently. Mate, being all that you are with a wife back in England—I say England because you kept talking about it—is a bad combination, and makes you look leagues worse."

Jake's words visibly resonated in Edward, as the man looked to his boots, and then to James for support, only to receive crossed arms and a pointed look. Then Kenway acted on base instinct and defended himself.

"Yeah, well fuck you, lad. I live free, without restrictions or tie-downs. That's the point of being a pirate."

Jake smirked in that dangerous way of his, and edge in his eye. "You don't have a clue about freedom."

Feeling very threatened, Edward's hands strayed for his swords, making Jake's smirk widen into a hostile grin, his dark eyes sparking with malicious glee. With a raucous laugh, the boy ran off and out of site. Kenway let his arms drop, releasing a breath. He looked to James.

"There's something wrong with that one."

"Aye. And there's even more wrong with you. Now follow me. I found something that I want you to help me with."

Edward was then given a more in-depth lesson about that weird thing he could do, along with learning about the Mayan stelae scattered about the West Indies, the treasure all the stelae would unlock, and then the jungle entrance to the manor up on the rise. As fun as all that was, the most important thing was the locked gate guarding the skeleton.

"That is some damn fine gear," Edward appraised.

A loud bark of a laugh had him flinching and drawing pistols. Jake was casually leaning against the far entryway. Kenway sighed and holstered his guns.

Jake walked closer. "I'm beginning to wonder if that wife of yours is actually alive and not a corpse you dug up. First you admit that you took that outfit of yours from a man you killed, and then you verbally admire the outfit dangling on some poor fool's bones. Are you a necrophiliac?"

James snorted and looked away so his smile wouldn't be seen.

Edward looked like he had been slapped in the face with a tuna. "Um…no. I am not a necrophiliac."

"If you say so."

James said, "Try that key you took from du Casse."

Grateful for the change of course, Edward took said key, and started putting it in the locks until he found one that worked. With a click, the mechanisms sprang to life and the top row unlocked.

"That's one down," Edward said.

Jake tilted his head, but he kept his thoughts to himself so that Kenway wouldn't try any of them. It made more sense to the boy pirate that, instead of hunting down wherever the rest of the keys were, to instead pry the bars out of the wood, or get a lot of men together to rip the whole door away, or break down the walls and enter from the sides. With all these different methods, the keys just seemed wholly impractical and unnecessary. But anyway.

"It might be that these four Templars have the other keys," James said, looking over a map.

Edward and Jake joined him.

"They've been sent to kill these four targets," James pointed.

Kenway's pulse quickened. "Hang me. That's the map I sold Torres in Havana."

He missed it, but Jake saw the look that appeared on James' face, and he chortled quietly.

"He said it marked the location of Assassin encampments," Edward continued.

"Think you owe them a bit of warning, then?" Kidd said tersely. "If you have any kind of heart beating in that chest of yours."

Jake snorted and crossed his arms. "Eh, let the Templars have their way. The faster one side gets rid of the other, the sooner that bloody wars of yours will end, and maybe the world might see a bit less conflict."

James fired an extremely scathing look at Jake, and Edward raised a brow. "Come again?"

"Oh, aye," Jake said. "The Assassins and Templars have been fighting all over the world since the dawn of time. They've started wars, slaughtered millions in the name of their causes, and see themselves as completely justified in all that they do. You killed du Casse, you interacted with the Templars; even with all your care of gold, even you can admit they were some self-righteous bastards."

Edward bobbed his head in recollection. "Aye," he agreed.

Jake grinned. "Assassins ain't no different."

James stormed ten paces, checking Jake's shoulder. Then he turned, glaring murder at Jake. "I love you in mine own way, boy, which is why I not trying to cut ye where ye stand, but I swear 'pon my honor and the honor of brothers, that if you say something like that again, I'll gut you and use as chum!"

His piece said, the manor shaking under the volume, James Kidd thundered away.

Edward turned a wide-eyed, open-mouthed look to the still-grinning Jake, though the grin was more of a straight line with parted lips, and his eyes were downcast, alight with guilt.

"What was that mate?" Kenway asked.

"Oh, Sis is just passionate, is all. He'll cool down. Always does."

"Why such passion, then?"

Jake turned an annoyed look to Edward. "Buzzard's guts, man, haven't you figured it out yet? James is an Assassin."

Edward felt a cannonball settle in his stomach. "Oh."

Memories of killing the white-garbed men and women in Havana sprang to the forefront of his mind's eye, and guilt ate away at him for the murders he committed, and for selling these listed Assassins out. As Edward registered this guilt, he recalled how guilt was only ever experienced at the onset of regret for your actions, or at the admonitions of one whose opinion you highly valued.

That's when Edward realized just how much he valued James Kidd, and that's when he began questioning his sexuality, which made him shudder at the thought of being attracted to another man. His shudder got Jake's notice.

"Rabbit run over your grave?"

"Something like that. Come on. I imagine James is shipping out now, and I don't want our parting to be on terms as bad as this."

"Aw, you do have a heart."

"Shut your gob."

Jake snickered.

They both went running out the manor, and they performed a deadly leap from the branch of a tree to a conveniently placed pile of hey several dozen feet below. A quick sprint to the docks had them catching James before he shipped out on a schooner.

"Kidd, I…"

"Save your apologies, Edward," James said tersely. "They ain't worth nothing without action behind them." The son of William then changed gears. "This cove suits you well, better than that costume you're wearing. It ain't you, Edward." Then Kidd looked at Jake. "And that coat isn't you, either, Little Brother."

"Yeah, but I like so, ehm!" Jake stuck his tongue out.

"If this 'costume' isn't me, then who am I?" Edward asked, curious of James' answer.

The man crossed his arms. "Hard to tell some days. All I know is you like dangerous prizes."

"Like the Observatory," Kenway said, bringing up the temple for the hundredth time now.

Jake groaned. "Not again~…"

Edward smiled. "You two know a lot more about the world than you're letting on."

James shrugged, and then looked to Jake. "Bring him to Tulum come the first Monday of March."

Jake frowned. "And at the top of a list of very bad ideas…"

"Do it? For his sake?" James pleaded.

"…fine."

Kidd smiled and sailed away. He wouldn't be seen be either Edward or Jake for another six months.

"What's Tulum?" Edward asked.

"We'll talk more. We've got a lot of time ahead of us, mate."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean we've got six months to outfit your Jackdaw, get the keys to that armor, amass a fortune and a fleet, cripple British and Spanish presence in our waters, and make sure the whole of the West Indies knows that the Pirate Confederacy of Nassau ain't no joke," Jake said with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

God, this has been a long time coming, and it's so much fun.

Such a breath of fresh air, having Percy go from a staunch Assassin to one who frowns at both sides of the coin, looking at the struggle from an outside perspective.

…what? Did you think every life Percy was going to be a God-fearing Assassin? No, that would be boring. I like mixing it all up. Make's things interesting.

Next chapter will go deeper into Jake's philosophies, and include adventures between him and Edward, both on land and at sea.

Now, the Running Frenchman. When I say she's a galleon, I don't mean a man-o'-war with four rows of cannons on her. I mean she's exactly like the Black Pearl but painted more or less like the Flying Dutchman. And she is powerful.

Jake really did sink the HMS Prince.

Anyway, we hit over 1k last chapter, and let's head strong to 1100 with this one!

Fav, Follow, and Review please!