Sum of Memories
Chapter 16: Inagua.
"This place… I could see a future, here."
September 25, 1715.
It had been two days since they had taken Great Inagua, and Edward could not stop grinning. His mood had improved, his sleep had been easy; all was well, and it was all thanks to his two favorite people in the world. As Edward stood on the balcony of the mansion, watching the sunlight glittering on the water of the bay, the presence of Connor to his left and Drystan to his right were a light in his world. Edward reached over and brushed Drystan's fingers with his. She was unresponsive for only a heartbeat before she twined their fingers together. He glanced at her in time to see her look up at him from under her eyelashes and the brim of the tricorne that she had adopted when her tanned skin had begun growing too pink in the Caribbean sunlight.
Previously, she had spent much of her time belowdecks with Gibbs, maintaining and crafting medical supplies, so she had been spared much of the exposure to the sunlight that the men endured on a daily basis. Now that she had been ashore and in the sunlight a few days, her skin had begun to burn, and her hair had developed highlights, though hers were more of a strawberry blonde than true blonde. She had begun sporting freckles, too, that sprinkled their way across the bridge of her nose and the curve of her cheeks. Edward, himself, had become deeply tanned, and Connor was so dark that he could pass as one of the paler African slaves from a distance, if he removed his Assassin's robes and walked around in his shirt and trousers. His black hair had been bleached to a nut-brown hue by the sunlight. Edward's own hair, already a honey hue by nature, had been leeched of color so that when he looked in a mirror he could see that streaks of white-blond and molten gold now ran across the top of his head.
Drystan glanced up at him again, and her cheeks went pink enough that even her freckles darkened.
Edward thought that they were adorable.
As she glanced up at him once more, she caught Edward staring at her, and her already-pink cheeks darkened just a little more even as a pleased little smile curled the corners of her soft lips. He longed to kiss her, to hold her, but since they were in a visible area, he refrained. No need to expose her as a woman, or to have the crew think that he was buggering her. God only knew what they would do if they thought he was a sodomite.
"So, what now?" Connor was the one who broached the subject, and Edward gazed into Drystan's green, green eyes for a moment longer before he turned and faced the other Assassin. Connor glanced over at Edward out of the corner of his eye, and then straightened from where he had been resting his elbows on the balcony's railing and turned around, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning his hip against it. "We took the island and retrieved the Piece. When do you intend for us to set sail again?"
Edward pursed his lips and turned his gaze outward again. In the village down below, the crew of the Jackdaw was milling about the docks and the inn, and an enterprising someone had even begun erecting what looked like an alehouse. Another ship was pulling into the bay. Now that it was drawing closer, Edward recognized it as the sloop that James Kidd had recently been piloting. Had Kidd come to visit?
"You see all this?" He gestured expansively to the manor and to the island below. "I could actually see a future, here. Maybe a plantation- cane, tobacco, rice… maybe-" He paused, and then swallowed and looked over at Drystan. "Maybe… Maybe it would even be a good place to raise a family."
Her brow furrowed, and she peered at him from under the brim of her hat. "Family? You plannin' on bringing your wife and daughter here?"
Edward pondered it for a second. Then he licked his lips and squeezed her hand.
"No," he murmured, and he ignored the tightness in his throat. "Caroline would never come here, and she'd never let an infant sail across the ocean on her own."
"Then whose family are you referring to?"
He turned his gaze back out over the bay. "Nobody's. Forget I said anything."
They were quiet a moment. Then Edward sighed.
"As to what we're doing next, I've not yet decided," he admitted. "We've only just taken the island, and the Piece… we still don't know what it's capable of." He nodded to the approaching ship. "Kidd is sailing in now. He's been an Assassin even longer than I have. Maybe he'll know something about it, about what we can do to…" He paused. Drystan ran her thumb across his scarred knuckles. For a second, he glanced over at her and his lips burned, he felt the press of her breasts against his chest, and the phantom weight of her thighs around his hips drew out an ache that he had not felt in years. Edward drew a deep breath and dragged himself back into the present. "Well. We need to make sure it can't do what it did, again, and I'm not leaving the artifact here, and I'm also not sailing the Jackdaw while there's a possibility that it could take over someone's mind like that."
Drystan's fingers clenched on his for a moment, and then she turned to him, also, and leaned her hip on the railing.
"And after we figure out what to do with the Piece, what then?" She drew Edward's hand to her lips and pressed them to his knuckles, but she was peering at Connor around Edward's shoulder. "Ship up to Boston to get Connor back home?"
"Yeah," Edward murmured, and he licked his lips as his good mood evaporated like mist under harsh sunlight. He paused a moment, and then turned and retreated back into the cool shade of the mansion's master chamber. "It'll be two weeks at least before we arrive in Boston. Maybe more, if something goes wrong."
His friends' footsteps trailed after him, as did Connor's voice. "When I sailed down south back home, it took about a month to reach our destination on account of the crew wanting to stop in Saint Augustine."
Drystan's laugh eased a tension in Edward's back that he had not realized was there.
"Better than the two months it takes to cross the Atlantic," she chuckled, and then her small, callused hand landed on Edward's shoulder and trailed down his arm. When she rounded him, he found that she had removed her tricorne and was holding it to her chest. He glanced down, and absently wondered if her breasts were as small as they looked from under her waistcoat. Were they really as gorgeous and generous as they had seemed, from what little he had been able to see when she had worn that dress to the Templars' estate? Or had her bodice simply enhanced them?
She rubbed his arm again, and Edward blinked and brought his eyes back up to hers. Had she spoken?
"What?" he asked, and she grinned and rolled her eyes a little.
"You're such a man," she murmured, and despite her teasing, Edward drew himself up a little straighter.
He was a man, and proud of it. "That I am."
"As you have proven multiple times." Connor rounded him, then, and he was smiling, also. It was a small smile, but coming from the usually stoic Native, that was the equivalent of a full-blown grin. That smile, however, slowly slipped away, and he gazed at Edward with some concern in those tawny eyes. "Why do you hesitate, Edward? You must have known that this day would come."
"Aye." Edward swallowed. "From the moment you told me of the Dagger." He just had not cared, or believed him, back then. He had not yet come to see Connor as a brother, as a friend. Caring about Connor- believing his insane tale- had changed everything. Edward stared at Connor for a second, and then he shifted away, crossing the room and fiddling with a pen on the writing desk in the corner.
Edward could almost hear the other two exchanging glances. His ears caught the whisper-quiet brush of Drystan's footsteps on the wooden floor, and her hand touched his bicep a second later. Almost against his will, Edward met her gaze. She studied him for a second, lips parted, before her expression cleared. The corners of her eyes grew tight.
"I see," she murmured. "You don't want him to leave."
Edward looked back down to the paper on the desk, and did not reply.
Drystan sighed, and tugged on his arm until he faced her fully. Then she reached up and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in the side of his neck. Edward swallowed and embraced her, and she was warmth and life against him, a balm against the cold ache of pending loneliness. For a moment, it seemed as though the rest of the world were far, far away. He and Drystan were their own little bubble of existence; nothing could touch them, no partings could wound them. Edward buried his nose in the russet curls at her temple, inhaled deeply of her scent, and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to keep her there- keep both her and Connor there- forever.
"Please don't leave," he breathed, and she held him a little tighter. "I don't want to lose you. Either of you."
"You won't," she murmured, and carded her fingers through his hair. Some of the tension drained out of his shoulders.
"You promise that, feinir?" He felt the shiver that raced through her when his lips brushed against her skin.
"Partings are inevitable, rhocyn." She finally drew back, and he met her green gaze for a moment before she leaned up and pressed her lips to his. "But even if we all go our separate ways, we'll always be in each other's hearts. You'll never lose us."
Edward did not know what to think of that.
"Drystan is right." A hand pressed gently between Edward's shoulder blades, and he drew back from Drystan so that he could turn and meet Connor's gaze. "No matter where we journey, or when, we will always be your friends, Edward." He paused, and held Edward's eyes for a second. Was that sadness, in that tawny stare? "I shall always be your friend. I promise you that."
It did not ease the ache, but Edward nodded anyway. After a second, he parted from Drystan. He could not look either of them in the eye. The hurt was too keen.
"I'm going to go meet Kidd at the docks." He turned and left the room without a backward glance.
September 29, 1715.
Connor glanced at Rhian as they watched Edward try to bend the Piece to his will. The corners of Rhian's eyes were tense with worry, and her mouth was a thin, tight line where it pulled downward at the corners. Across the room, sweat beaded upon Edward's brow, and his cerulean eyes were wild and unfocused beneath the fall of his damp blond hair. Even as Connor watched, Edward's pupils first dilated until they nearly swallowed his irises, and then contracted to mere pinpricks just as rapidly. A golden glow burst forth and washed over them all; the tendons in Edward's hands and neck bulged as his fingers clenched around the Piece, and a muscle jumped in his jaw. An agonizing moment passed. Then Edward bared his teeth, ground out a snarl, and scowled down at the object.
The golden light flared, and then subsided. Edward held it for a second longer. Then he groaned and swayed, and Connor lurched forward and caught his grandfather as the Piece slipped from Edward's fingers, thunked to the floor, and rolled over into a corner. Edward's knees gave out. He was a dead weight in Connor's arms. Connor lowered Edward to the floor as Rhian knelt beside them.
"Are you all right?" Rhian asked, and pressed her hand to Edward's forehead. He was panting.
Edward was quiet a moment, and then his eyes focused on Rhian's face again and he swallowed.
"Water," he rasped. She nodded and rose. Connor tightened his grip on Edward's shoulders. His grandfather was shaking like a leaf in the wind.
"What happened this time?" Connor pressed his hand back to Edward's brow- it seemed that it steadied him a bit- and took the cup that Rhian handed to him. "It seemed as though you were able to manipulate it for a second."
Edward shook his head, and then sipped gratefully from the cup as Connor held it to his lips. He was still shaking too much to hold it steady. It had been like this every time he had tried to manipulate the Piece in the past couple of days since he had begun trying; he would collapse, and be greatly weakened for several minutes after. This time, Connor held him close as he recovered. At length, Edward reached up and pushed away Connor's hand from his forehead.
"I couldn't do anything." He sighed, and relaxed against Connor's chest for a moment before he pushed himself up and sat under his own power. "It's more than I can comprehend, and for some reason, it's not responding to me. It…" He paused, and then Connor watched as he glanced up at Rhian. "It's like it's trying to find you, feinir, and it's using me as a medium."
Rhian went pale, and as the men watched, she hunched in on herself and wrapped her arms around her middle.
"Why does it want me?" she asked, and her voice was tiny. Edward shook his head.
"I can't tell," he replied, "but I… I got the sense that it was trying to correct something, or… or change something. I don't know. It's…" He shivered. "It's so… alien."
Connor rested a hand on Edward's shoulder, and the younger man's blue eyes slowly swiveled up and met Connor's gaze.
"Leave it be, for a little while," he recommended, and then held up his right hand, gesturing to the Shard of Eden on his finger. "I have had some small experience with the Pieces of Eden. Let me see if I can do anything."
Edward studied him a moment, glanced over at the Piece, and then nodded slowly. His features were tense with worry. "Be careful, lad."
Connor gave one short nod, and then he crossed the floor, knelt, and scooped up the Piece in both hands.
Instantly, the world around him vanished. Blackness replaced it, and then waves of golden lightning shot through the air. With a jolt, Connor realized it was familiar: he had seen this place when he had looked into his grandmother's crystal ball seven years ago, before he had left and sought out Achilles. Now, as he stared around himself, he noticed some subtle differences. Nebulous shapes drifted through the space around him, now, where before there had been none. None of them spoke with him, either, not like the glowing woman who had guided his steps the first time. He looked around a little more, and then was startled when he saw Edward's face through the mist.
Edward was older, there, than Connor had ever seen him. His features were lined from both joy and pain, and as Connor watched, another shape emerged from the mists and embraced him. She was not Rhian, that was for certain; despite the golden hue that described everything Connor saw, this woman's hair appeared darker, and it was straighter than Rhian's was. Her face was different, as well: narrower, a slender jaw with fuller lips, and her nose was slightly hooked where Rhian's was straight. She looked like Connor's father. With a start, Connor realized that she must have been his grandmother, Tessa Kenway. Even as Connor watched, Edward pressed a kiss to Tessa's lips, and a figure materialized behind Tessa.
This figure, Connor had seen before. She was the ancient being in the flowing white robes who had guided him to the Assassins seven years ago. Her features were as cold and imperious as they had been even back then.
The alien woman laid a hand on Tessa's shoulder, and that was when Rhian appeared at Connor's side.
Connor startled a bit- he had not been expecting her to be there- and then he melted at the expression of pain on his friend's face. Rhian's teary eyes were pinched at the corners, and her lips wobbled a little even as Connor watched her watch Edward and Tessa. Rhian looked about ten years older than she was now, if Connor were judging her age correctly; her hair was longer, too, hanging almost to her waist, and she was wearing a dress. She lifted her hand to her mouth and pressed her fingers to her lips, and the tears slipped down her cheeks.
Then a hand materialized on her shoulder, and when Connor followed its arm up to its owner, he was met with the visage of a woman not unlike the one who was touching Tessa.
This woman, however, was staring straight at Connor.
He swallowed. "Can you see me?"
"I see many things." The woman extended her other hand to Connor, and he glanced down at it. "To your kind, I am known as Minerva."
That name struck a bell. Where had he heard it?
"The Roman goddess?" he questioned.
"Yes, and no," she replied. Minerva glanced at the imitations of Edward and Tessa, and then she turned her gaze back to Connor. "Will you take my hand and allow me to show you the paths I have predicted?"
Connor took in the heartbroken expression on Rhian's features, and then reached out and took Minerva's hand.
In an instant, he was standing in a tearoom. Rhian was sitting at a table, there, with a pot of tea on a cozy in front of her. He watched Edward and Tessa enter the room, and when Edward's gaze met Rhian's, it seemed as though they both went cold. Edward murmured something into Tessa's ear, and they left the tearoom. In a flash, Connor was standing in cave of some sort, though it was unlike any cave he had ever seen, before- all sharp angles and smooth floors and inscriptions that he could not read. Even as he watched, a young man stepped up to a glowing orb, touched it, and collapsed immediately, arm blackened. He did not rise. A wave of golden light flowed out from the orb, and Connor had the briefest impression of protection, and then it was gone, and the other woman- the one who had guided Connor to the Assassins- stepped over the man's dead body and emerged into the world. A team of people arrived on the scene, gutted the man and put the corpse into a black bag, and then removed it from the area.
Then Connor watched as first one city, then another, then another, fell to the glowing woman's influence, until the entire world knelt at her feet, entirely subjugated. She looked over her conquered empire and smirked.
In another instant, Connor was standing in that same tearoom as before. Rhian was there, with that teapot on the table. Edward and Tessa walked into the room, and this time, when Edward and Rhian saw each other, they smiled, and Edward and Tessa came over and joined her. The scene changed. Rhian was holding one of Tessa's hands, and Edward was holding the other. Tessa was pale and sweating, and even as he watched, she intertwined Edward and Rhian's hands. They looked up at each other and then at her, and then Tessa's hands fell away from theirs, and she went limp. Edward and Rhian both wept, but their hands were still entwined. Then Connor was in that cave, again, watching that young man touch the glowing orb. He died, and the glowing woman emerged into the world. However, this time, a young woman with red hair and a man with black hair made it to the man who had collapsed, and they did something with some device, which caused the man to arch off the floor. They took his pulse and hit him again with the device, and suddenly, the man was breathing. They placed him on a stretcher and rushed him from the cave mere minutes before the team of men from the first vision arrived and began canvassing the area.
The scene changed again. One by one, cities fell to the golden lady… but one by one, they were taken back, and the glowing woman was driven back until, finally, she was overcome. The world was free, and safe, and the man who had died watched from anonymity as the crowds around him celebrated some unknown festival. He was smiling, and his good hand was clasped around that of a little boy with eyes that were two different colors.
Connor blinked, and the images vanished. Minerva was still standing there with her hand on Rhian's shoulder, and Edward and Tessa were still embracing, and the other glowing woman still had her hand on Tessa's shoulder. It was as though nothing had happened, but the things he had seen were burned into Connor's mind.
Minerva stared at him with fathomless eyes.
"Do you understand, now?" she asked, and Creator help him, but Connor understood.
"We are at a tipping point," he murmured, and gazed first at Rhian, and then at Edward and Tessa. "If Rhian gives up on Edward, that other woman will conquer the world."
Minerva nodded.
"Juno is the name by which your people know her," she replied, and suddenly, they were alone. "Edward Kenway, Rhian Yates, and Tessa Stephenson-Oakley are merely pawns in the larger scheme of things, but their descendants are crucial both to saving the world and preserving humanity's freedom." She gestured, and two images appeared in the air behind her. One was that of Edward and Tessa leaving the tearoom. The other was that of Tessa, on her deathbed, joining Edward and Rhian's hands. "Should Rhian Yates fail to procreate with Edward Kenway, his descendant through Tessa Stephenson-Oakley will save the world, but will release Juno on it in the process. Humanity will be subjugated, their minds controlled through the Pieces of Eden, and their volition and freedom of thought will be stripped away entirely." She gestured to the other image, that of the three of them. "Should Rhian Yates successfully procreate with Edward Kenway, his and Tessa Stephenson-Oakley's descendant will still save the world, but the descendants of Edward Kenway and Rhian Yates will save him."
"And they will defeat Juno together," Connor realized, and Minerva nodded. He exhaled forcefully. "This is… This is impossible."
"Not impossible." The images vanished. Minerva was staring at him. "You have seen the Shifting occur. You have felt it. You know the reality of what was, and you have discovered the possibility of what could be."
Connor swallowed, hard. He had felt the Shift, indeed, when he had watched Edward and Rhian kiss behind that outbuilding two days ago and had watched his own past diverge from what could now be.
Minerva's black eyes bored into Connor's.
"Change it."
With a gasp, Connor was thrown back into his own body. The Piece thunked to the floor, and he swayed for a second, disoriented, before two pairs of hands steadied him. He swallowed through a cottony mouth, and then coughed. Rhian and Edward stared at him, concern etched into every corner of their faces.
"Are you all right, Connor?" Rhian asked, and pressed her hand first to Connor's cheek, and then to his forehead. He leaned into her cool touch with a groan. He was burning.
"Water," he rasped. They exchanged glances, and then Rhian refilled Edward's cup and helped Connor drink. The cool water revitalized him a little, and with a newfound clarity, he peered first at one of them, and then at the other.
"What happened, lad?" Edward asked.
Connor watched his grandfather, took in the concern in those blue eyes, and realized that he could not tell them what he had seen- not explicitly, at least. Still, he could not lie to them, either.
"She showed me… possibilities." He took another drink, and seated himself at the desk while Edward and Rhian exchanged glances. "She is attempting to influence those possibilities by influencing you and Drystan and the actions that you are taking."
He took a deep breath and looked around, and eventually, his eyes settled upon the veranda and the world beyond it. The sun was now creeping toward the western horizon, and the trees' shadows stretched their spindly fingers across the sand in the distance. The waves were rising on the beach as the tide crept in, and the Jackdaw, Julien du Casse's galleon, and James Kidd's sloop were bobbing on the water in the bay. There was going to be a storm, tonight. Connor could see the cloud banks building on the horizon, and the wind was already beginning to pick up. It would be a big one.
"What sort of possibilities?" Rhian asked, and she sounded so concerned that Connor actually considered answering her, for a second.
It was as he was considering this that he realized that the choice that lay before Edward and Rhian- the one that would determine whether they became lovers or grew estranged- lay not with his friends, but with Connor himself. A chill ran down Connor's spine.
Telling them would take away any and all joy from their relationship and put such a strain on it that Connor had no doubt they would push each other away. If they pushed each other away, they would become estranged, and the second future he had seen- the one where they were happy, and their descendants saved the world and humanity's freedom- would never come to pass. He knew Edward and Rhian well enough, by now, that he knew that they were better off not knowing.
It was not a choice at all.
"I did not see the outcomes," he murmured instead, and the lie was bitter upon his tongue. "All I know is that, in one future, the two of you were together and happy. In the other, you grew estranged and could not even be in the same room together." He shook his head when Rhian took a breath and opened her mouth. "I only saw the two. She did not show me any others." And now, for the biggest lie of them all. "I cannot tell which of these outcomes she was trying to achieve by manipulating you."
Rhian shuddered and hugged herself. It seemed almost as though she shrank before Connor's eyes.
"Why would this person, this…" She made an incoherent noise in the back of her throat. "Why would she want us to be together? What could she gain by it?"
Connor considered his words very, very carefully.
"Whatever her goal," he murmured, the words slow and ponderous as they slipped from his tongue, "I did not have the impression that she meant you any… wahétken…" He paused, seeking the right phrase. He knew the word in his native language, but the English eluded him for a second. "…ill intent."
Edward glanced at Rhian. "This thing is still trying to manipulate Drystan, though."
"To an extent." Connor took a breath and reached out, brushing his fingers across the surface of the Piece. It was warm to his touch and almost seemed like it was humming, but otherwise it was inert. The vibrations made his fingers tingle. "It is not trying to make contact with me, now."
Both of the men glanced up at Rhian, but she shuddered again and flinched away from the orb, shaking her head.
"No," she murmured. "No, I'll not touch it. Keep that thing far away from me. I want nothing to do with it."
Rhian regarded the Piece with a jaundiced eye for a second longer, and then she turned and left, and Connor and Edward watched her retreating back for a moment until she vanished through the double doors and into the parlor, and then left the mansion altogether. Connor spied her a second later, bounding headlong down the stone staircase toward the village below. Only once she was out of sight did he turn to Edward, only to find that his grandfather was still watching Rhian's bobbing auburn head as she made her way down the beach.
"I think I've just lost her," Edward murmured, and there was something pained in his voice that made Connor nod in sympathy.
"You have not lost her," he reassured him, and patted Edward on the shoulder. "Give her time. I know both of you well enough, by now, that I know that she is merely upset by what we discovered, today. This will not affect her opinion of you."
Edward was quiet a moment. Then he took a deep breath, glanced at Connor, and then rose.
"I need to talk to her." He headed for the door. "If she returns, could you tell her I'm looking for her?"
Connor nodded. "Of course." He paused. "What is it you are going to do?"
Edward hesitated, and when he turned back to Connor, his lips were quirked in a devilish grin.
"I'm going to teach her to swim."
"Where the blazes are you taking me?" A branch cracked behind him, shortly followed by Drystan's soft oath. "Feels like we've been walking forever, Edward. Are you taking me to the other side of the bloody island?"
Edward smirked at her over his shoulder, but did not answer. Instead, he led her down a shallow decline, pushed through the fronds of a fern, and held them apart for her. Drystan huffed theatrically and flounced around the foliage with her nose in the air, only to gasp and freeze at the sight that awaited them just beyond the last bits of flora. Edward let the leaves drop and joined her, his hand finding a home at the small of her back. He gave her a moment.
Truth be told, he had come upon this spot a couple days after their arrival on the island, after James Kidd had shown him the Mayan puzzle and the manor's dim underbelly. He had been hunting near the path he and Connor had taken, and had successfully fended off and then killed a pair of white jaguars, and he had gone to the nearest spot of water to wash up and to tend the mild scratches that the cats had managed to inflict on him through his armor. He had looked up just as he had passed this same stand of ferns, and had been struck by the sight of the most beautiful little lagoon he had ever seen.
It was even more beautiful now, in the moonlight, with Drystan's hair chased in silver and her eyes glowing with wonder as she took in the vista before them.
"What do you think?" Edward observed her reaction closely.
Drystan appeared mesmerized as she took first one step, then another, onto grass and then sand, hands clasped before her chest for a second before she lowered them to her sides. Her seafoam eyes were wide and shining under the light of the waxing moon, lips parted and jaw slack. Those nimble fingers twitched as though playing a song on the dancing sea air.
"It's beautiful," she breathed, and that was when she turned those amazing eyes on him. "How did you find this place?"
"Happenstance," he admitted, and finally took her hand in his, twining their fingers together and tugging her towards the waters. "I chanced upon it the other day while I was exploring after I'd concluded my business with Kidd."
Drystan hummed as she followed him, and their soft footsteps were the faint crunch of sand.
"It would be a good place to go courting," she mused, and that was when she paused. Her sudden suspicion was a tangible thing as her gaze bored into the side of his head. "Edward, did you bring me here to court me?"
He thought about lying to her, but, well, that would be a lie. Edward faced her, tugged her close, and caught her lips with his. Her gasp was faint against his mouth, but her soft moan was worth every bit of it. Drystan melted against him, and before he knew it, her hands were resting on his shoulders and her breasts were pressed against his chest, and God Almighty, he wanted her. Edward wrapped his arms around her and held her tight, wanting nothing more than to sink into her arms and stay there forever.
Still, as much as he just wanted to kiss her all night long, he had not brought her there specifically for that reason.
Drystan squealed when he suddenly dipped and swung her up into his arms, and she giggled when he carried her, bridal-style, down towards the water's edge.
"Don't you dare drop me in. I've no other clothes to wear," she muttered, and kissed him again. Edward's feet faltered, and his breath hitched, but he regained himself quickly enough.
"Guess you'd better undress, then," he whispered, and she pulled back and squinted at him.
"Edward?" Her voice took on a note of steel. "What did you really bring me here for?"
He brushed his lips against hers one more time, and then set her down. She squeaked as her feet splashed into two inches of warm saltwater, and she clung to him for a second until she realized that he had not dropped her in over her head. Then she scowled at him as he gave her a cheeky grin.
"I promised I'd teach ya to swim, feinir," he replied at last. "What better time or place to do it than a deserted lagoon at nighttime, where nobody's around to see you in all your feminine glory?" He paused, and then smirked at her. "Well, nobody except me, of course."
Oh, she was blushing, now, and pouting, and her lips were twitching at the corners as though she were trying not to smile. It was adorable. Finally, the smile won out, and she took a couple steps away, those nimble fingers pulling at the buttons of her waistcoat, and Edward swallowed hard as she shucked it and tossed it onto the sand. His eyes tracked those fingers even closer when she started plucking at the laces of her shirt. Holy Mother, he could almost see her breasts-
"You're not just going to stand there, are you?" Her eyes danced at him through the darkness, and she was smiling.
God help him, it actually took Edward a second before he registered the question well enough to realize that she was suggesting that he undress, as well. He had never gotten his shirt off so quickly in his life, and his boots had never flown so far. Drystan stopped him with a kiss before he could take off his pants, though, and it was then that he realized that she was topless save for the strip of fabric that bound her breasts almost flat, and that she was still wearing her trews even though she had stripped out of her shoes. As she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, her dainty little feet met his, and her bare toes wiggled slightly atop his feet. He sucked in a breath and drew her closer, savoring the heady warmth of her skin against his. She was all smooth softness as he caressed her shoulders, her back, her hips, and his thumbs brushed across her ribs and belly before he realized where his hands were heading.
Edward groaned and drew back a bit. He was panting. Drystan's lips were plump and damp from his kisses, and her pupils were blown wide in the faint moonlight.
"I think it's time I taught you to swim," he murmured, and then dipped back down for another kiss. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders again, and Edward's knees almost gave out when she licked her way into his mouth and caressed his tongue with hers. There was a pressure building in his chest, in his groin. If he did not do something, soon… he did not think he would be able to stop.
"Drystan," he gasped, and suddenly, they were on the sand, her lithe body beneath his, one of his legs thrust between hers. She arched up against him for a moment, and then she fell back against the sand. Some of her curly hair had come loose in the tumble, and now it was spread around her head like an auburn halo. In the moonlight, she was radiant. His breath left him. It was an honest-to-God struggle for Edward to wrench his thoughts back into some sort of coherency. "Drystan, if we- if we don't stop this now, I'm not going to be able to stop at all."
She was quiet for a second as though she were honestly debating the matter. Then she sighed.
"Teach me how to swim," she suggested, and kissed him once, briefly, before she gingerly extricated herself from him. Edward groaned and bowed his head, pressing his forehead into the sand for a moment while he regained his composure. Then he lifted himself to his feet and pursued her into the shallow water.
If he had thought she was beautiful on the shore, Edward thought, Drystan absolutely breathtaking in the water. She had waded out far enough that the water was up to her waist. Even as he watched, she sighed and reached up to the back of her head, and with the deft sort of motion that Edward distinctly remembered from his time with Caroline, she tugged something loose from the queue there, and just like that, a mess of red curls tumbled down her shoulders, nearly to the middle of her back. Edward stared at the auburn ringlets while she ran her hands through them a couple of times and then turned and regarded him over her shoulder.
"That's right," she murmured, "you've never seen me with my hair down, have you?"
Edward shook his head and reached out, touching the curls just lightly. They tugged down with the contact, and then sprung back up again. He smiled.
"No," he admitted, "I've not. How've ye kept it so soft?"
She grinned at him. "A lady never reveals her secrets."
He huffed, and then stroked her hair once more. "You want me to braid it back for you? It'll get tangled if ye swim with it loose."
Drystan studied him for a second, and then she nodded and turned her back to him. Edward reached out and reverently stroked those fiery tresses, first loosening the knots in the curls and then dividing the whole of it into three parts. It was with a skill born of practice that he set about weaving them into a plait, and Drystan must have noticed, because she said, "You're good at this."
Edward was quiet a second, contemplating her words. Then he hummed.
"Truth be told, Caroline and I would go swimming, back home, when the weather was warm," he murmured. "She loved having her hair played with, and braiding it got it out of the way, too, so it didn't tangle."
She did not reply for a long moment. Then, as he reached her shoulders, she reached behind herself and touched his wrist with her fingertips. Edward paused.
"Do you miss her?" She had slipped into Welsh, and when spoken in her natural register, the words gave him shivers. Edward sighed and continued plaiting.
"Some." Wait, no, that was a lie. "Actually, I miss her a lot." He pursed his lips. Articulating his mixed feelings about Caroline was always a challenge, and he did not want Drystan to get the wrong idea. His words were soft when he admitted, "I did love her, Drystan. There's a reason I married her in the first place. Just…" He paused and worked loose a knot where the hair had tangled around his fingers, and then he continued, "By the end, things were so… unwholesome, between us, it was a relief to return to the sea. I suppose I… I just wish it hadn't ended as badly as it did. That's all."
She was still and quiet a moment as he finished his task and tied off the braid with a leather thong that she slipped to him, and then, once he had allowed the heavy mass of it to fall against the nape of her neck, she turned and looked into his eyes.
"But things are over between you?" she asked softly.
He swallowed. "Kidd… He brought a letter with him. In it, she informed me that she's living with her mother and stepfather, that the baby is well and growing quickly, and even though neither of us can remarry, she has… I think she's found someone else."
Drystan's expression fell. A second later, she took his hands in hers and pressed her lips to his knuckles.
"I'm sorry, Edward." She pressed his fingers to her forehead, and Edward took the opportunity to run them through her hair and cup her face between his palms. "That's a horrible thing to say, even if things ended badly between you."
There was a knot in his chest. "Truly? Because it seems to me that she was trying to free me from any obligation to her."
She met his gaze.
"How do you gather that?" she asked.
"She wrote, 'I have finally made peace, Edward. I only hope that you can find it, too.'"
Drystan frowned. "How does that mean that she's found somebody?"
"You don't know Caroline. I'm almost certain that she's found someone." Edward sighed, and tugged his hands out of hers before he changed the subject. "Come on. I told you I'd teach ye how to swim, and I meant it."
She frowned at him for a moment longer. Then, "We're going to talk about this, Edward, and I want to see these letters she keeps sending you."
He nodded. After a minute, he swallowed and stepped away, his bare feet sinking into the fine sand of the lagoon.
"I've already shown you how to float," he reminded her. "When we went overboard, I taught you to arch your back and splay your limbs, and that will help keep you afloat as long as the seas aren't terribly rough."
Drystan nodded and turned so that she, too, was facing the sea. Edward's gaze was drawn to her profile, first her face, then her collarbone, then her bound breasts.
Cach. He gulped. "The, um. Everyone has a stroke they prefer, but my favorite is the breast stroke."
He froze, and then groaned and dragged a hand over his face while she giggled at him.
"Is that so?" she laughed. "That is one thing I actually never doubted about you, Captain Kenway."
"Shut up." He mumbled a curse to himself and then shook his head and glared at her. "I didn't craft the name, ye daft lass."
She was still grinning at him. "I'm well aware. Your timing is impeccable, though, considering ye were eyeing me up."
"Hush, you." Edward's jaundiced gaze met her mirthful one. "A man can appreciate beauty, can't he?"
Her smirk never faltered, but she stood a little straighter and puffed out her chest just a little, and Edward could not help but ogle that thin strip of fabric that held those breasts in place.
"Certainly, if that beauty be on public display," she quipped, and then she gestured to the water. "Are ye going to demonstrate how to stroke those breasts, or not?"
He groaned again, and she cackled.
"Don't tempt me, wench," he growled, and threw himself into the water.
It closed over his head, warm as a woman's touch, running its fingers through his hair and beard and caressing his skin with a rare tenderness. There had been times when he had jumped into the sea and she had been icy and angry, but this time, she was gentle with him, tugging him this way and that before he finally brought his hands together, spread his legs, and then propelled himself through the depths.
He resurfaced a moment later, some 15 feet away from where he had left Drystan, and she was eyeing him with some trepidation, her lips compressed into a thin line and freckles stark against the fairness of her skin. The tension eased a little when he came up for air, but it returned when he beckoned to her.
"You try."
She swallowed, the motion visible even from this distance. "Edward, I'm not sure about this."
"Come on, lass. You faced me down on that schooner, didn't you? Nearly killed me, too." He swam lazily back to her, keeping his eyes on hers. "Ye kicked my arse during our duel on the Jackdaw. You killed a man after he poisoned you, even with a belly wound." He reached her, got his feet under himself, and reached out and tugged her to him by her hips. "Ye've managed to enchant me, despite all our efforts to the contrary. I know you can do this."
Drystan was blushing, now, and as he tugged her closer, still, she drew her arms up and folded them beneath her breasts. She was trembling.
"Edward, I-"
"A deal's a deal, mate," he murmured, and nudged her nose with his. "I can help you learn, if you want, or I can throw you in and watch you flail about until you come to it on your own."
She nipped his lip in retaliation. "You wouldn't dare."
"Wouldn't I?" He smirked at her and ducked and wrapped his arms around her thighs, hoisting her high into the air. She was so light in his arms he could have thrown her easily, but he held onto her as she squeaked and grabbed hold of his head- probably a reflexive motion, given that the way Drystan clutched at him pressed his face into her bosom. Edward grunted and refrained from shoving his face further in there.
"Put me down!" she shrieked, and he smirked.
"If you insist." Edward looked up at her, and then dropped her into the water. She tumbled in with a splash and a scream, and when she resurfaced a second later, she was glaring daggers at him while she coughed out the mouthful of water she had swallowed. Edward could not help it. He laughed uproariously.
"Shut up, ye daft man," Drystan sputtered, and sent a wave of water his way. Edward ducked and let it wash over him, but he was still laughing.
"Ye said to put you down," he retorted.
"Would ye just teach me, already?" she demanded. She- was she pouting at him? Edward bit his lips and barely refrained from grinning. She was pouting.
"All right, all right," he muttered, and waded forth until he drew abreast of her. "Here. First, ye always keep your fingers together, hands cupped. Same with your toes, and keep your feet pointed."
He demonstrated, and Drystan followed suit, cupping her hands, and then Edward stretched his arms in front of him, the backs of his hands pressed to each other, elbows out.
"This is how you start. You use your hands to push yourself through the water, like you're rowing a boat." He demonstrated again, drawing his hands in an arc out to his sides, then down to his hips. "After that, you bring them back up and do it again." He drew his palms together at the centerline of his body, brought them up over his head as though he were praying, and then turned his palms outward again and repeated the first motion.
Drystan watched him studiously for a second, and then she mimicked him. Her stroke was clumsy, at first, but after a few tries, she got it.
"Good." Edward adjusted his motion so that his hands pressed slightly out behind his body when he brought them down. "If ye need to come up for air, you arch your head back and force your hands down, like this, to turn yourself, and then you swim upward to push yourself up."
She repeated the stroke again.
"And for your feet, ye draw your knees up and in like you're squatting, then kick them out and bring them back straight again," Edward continued. "Like how a frog swims."
Her eyebrows lifted for a second, and she nodded.
"Good. Ye ready to give it a try?"
Drystan eyed the deeper water of the lagoon for a second, and her mouth grew tight. Edward watched as her features went pale and her eyes grew wide, but she gulped and clenched her jaw.
"Will you…" She swallowed again. "Will you rescue me, if I start flailing?"
Edward smiled, and his heart melted just a tiny bit.
"Of course, feinir." He gestured to the lagoon. "Only one way to find out if you sink, though. Come on. Let's face those fears of yours."
Drystan took a deep breath and nodded, and Edward smiled at her and waded out into the deeper water until he was up to his neck. Drystan clenched her jaw, and then he watched her crouch until her shoulders were submerged and her arms were stretched out in front of her. Were he to look underwater, he had no doubt that he would find that she had her knees almost up to her armpits, just like a frog. She rocked forward slightly, and kicked off.
Her form was graceless and choppy, and she seemed panicked for a long moment until she found a rhythm that kept her head above the water. After that, Edward watched her bob toward him, and watched the realization grow on her face- the realization that she was actually swimming- and the elation that blossomed there eclipsed almost anything he had ever seen from her. He was grinning, a fierce pride burning in his chest, when she made it to him and he caught her by the arms and pulled her to him.
"Edward!" she gasped, her grip tight on his biceps and her face split almost in half with her beaming grin. "Edward, I did it! I can't believe it- I was swimming!"
He laughed, and hugged her tightly.
"Ye were, feinir," he murmured, and kissed her squarely on the lips for a second before he let her go. "Now, catch me if you can!"
With a grin, Edward pushed off and struck out for the deeper water, and Drystan squawked, flailed for a second, and then she pursued him. Edward flipped onto his back and watched her as he propelled himself through the lagoon, watched as her form gradually grew more graceful and more coordinated, watched as the fear and trepidation completely vanished from her eyes and her expression. She was growing more and more confident with every stroke. Laughing, Edward led her around the lagoon, letting her get close and then darting away when she was about to catch him. It was a delightful game, and soon, Drystan was laughing, too. Before long, she was even launching herself at him through the water and only missing him by a hairsbreadth.
Dawn was lightening the eastern sky by the time that Edward finally let her catch him, and that was when she threw her arms around his shoulders, wrapped her legs around his waist, and kissed him like he had never been kissed before. It erased all thoughts from his head, left no room for anything else save the knowledge that he would do whatever it took to keep this amazing woman at his side forever.
His fingers, suddenly nerveless, loosened, and his grip on her weakened so that she slipped back down into the water, her hands still pressed against his chest. He stared at into her eyes, thoughts whirling, and his mouth worked for a moment without sound. After a second, Drystan's brow creased faintly, and she reached up and touched his cheek, and Edward blinked.
"What's the matter?" she asked. He gulped. His heart was thumping a mile a minute. His mouth opened and closed a couple of times; the words were stuck in his throat.
At last, he inhaled sharply, and swallowed, and opened his mouth again, intending to say that they should get back to the manor.
"I love you," he breathed instead.
Drystan's eyes grew wide, and her breath hitched. She looked as floored as he felt.
"What?" Her hands slipped down from his chest, and Edward took a couple of sharp breaths. His head was spinning.
"I love you," he repeated, and then gulped. "Drystan, I-"
She kissed him, and Edward fell silent, closing his eyes and melting into her embrace with a sigh. Drystan's lips were soft on his, and she tasted of island mint and spiced rum.
"I love you, too," she whispered.
Compulsory and Standard Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed in any of its forms, save for the copies I have of the games. Assassin's Creed belongs in its entirety to Ubisoft. I own Rhian Yates and any other original characters you encounter herein.
Welsh Translations:
Rhocyn: Lad
Feinir: Lassie
Kanien'kéha Translations:
Wahétken: Ill intent
Author's Note:
Oh my gosh. I said I would not go on hiatus again, and look what I did. *headdesk* I really don't have a good excuse. Things have been bleeding insane since April, but I should have kept up with my updates. For those of you who care to know what has been going on, though, here is what has been happening with my life:
1. My mother was involved in a car accident at the end of April. Much of my time was spent helping her as she recovered, and that ate away at my time like it was nobody's business.
2. I got a second job at the end of July to take up some of the slack left from a lack of hours at my main job. Right after I did that, I got slammed at my main job, which brought me up to full time hours, and that left me working 15-hour days most days and 8-hour days on weekends. Exhausting? Yes. It also means that I have a lot less time at work to write this story.
3. The dreaded writer's block: I ran out of pre-written chapters, which meant that I actually had to write a complete chapter for the first time in awhile. I'm still not entirely satisfied with the next chapter, but it has been written, and hopefully, I'll be able to post it soon. (I'm aiming for October 19 or so.) From here on out, it's going to be a lot of action as we sail toward the end of this fic.
Again, thank you all so much for leaving your commentary on chapter 15! I do read each and every one of the reviews I receive, believe it or not. For brevity's sake, I might not always reply, but I do read each comment, concern, and compliment that comes my way.
I look forward to seeing what you all think of this chapter, as well! Thanks so much!
-Scribe