Like any other person would have been, Caroline Scott was snug in her comfort zone. While her venturesome husband lived on the wild side, she would watch from afar; not always with approval, but always with high hopes. She once hoped for a successful family life with him. Having herself been raised in a family that would only accept secure means of living, she couldn't tolerate his ways without inducing disapproving remarks from relatives.

Once, when Edward still lived between the cobblestone roads of early 18th-century England, it rained especially loudly, considering England's famed drizzly climate. Edward could guess why. That day, he found his wife, a Mrs. Caroline Scott-Kenway, sprawled outside their small house. She was lying down with her back to the grass, her dress drenched and noticeably muddy. He knew she wanted to be alone, away from him and his crazy dreams of sailing amongst the rainy islands of the West Indies. That sort of rainy was different from England's.

Was it the gloomy atmosphere at home that made the rain particularly loud? Edward couldn't say for certain. And he couldn't say for certain if he was crying, since rain fell on his cheeks as he watched Caroline from the threshold of their back door. It was starting to get drenched inside.

He felt rather sorry for trapping her in this marriage. Sorry for not realizing their differences. This entire affair was a mistake, wasn't it? Edward resented his inability to express his love for her in a way both of them appreciated. He found her captivating, and he certainly cared for her. On the other hand, though, he was also aware that his passions and hers were not alike.

Risking an argument, he walked over to where she lay, "We're getting too mucky."

Caroline reckoned he wasn't referring to their clothes or bodies, now doused in mud. To Edward's surprise, she even looked back at him. He could not read anger or sorrow in her, but she was not filled with joy, either.

"Let's get ya back inside and get ya clean," Edward said softly as he offered a hand to help her up. Caroline nodded and accepted his hand, not suspecting that her husband could have been hiding tears in the rain, her own purpose in lying down outside here.

She bathed, put on a new, clean dress, and prepared a hot meal for the two of them. Before she took a bite, though, she wondered where he had gone off to.

Caroline came upon Edward outside, having never moved. It was still pouring, and he seemed to be dancing in the falling water, stretching his arms our and tilting his head upwards. It seemed, he could better feel the droplets land on his skin that. The rhythm of the rain persisted as he stepped in a circular motion to it. He was far muddier than Caroline had been earlier, and he appeared to be even deeper in a fantasy land.

"Edward! Come inside. I've cooked."

He turned towards her and replied, "Sorry, Caroline, I ain't hungry right now."

So Caroline ate her meal alone and Edward swayed in the rain.


Part I, Chapter 1 - March 1716

"Mmm… Ah… Kidd," Edward groaned as he woke abruptly from his nap-turned-deep-sleep. Great Inagua's beach boasted fantastic scenery; the bent palm trees were particularly cozy.

"Wake up, Kenway."

He immediately took hold of the branch Kidd was smacking him with and threw it aside brashly. "Is Thatch about?" Edward asked groggily as he sat upright.

Kidd went after the discarded branch, "He left this morning with the galleon. 'as faith we'll discover a good use fer this old cove ourselves."

Edward got down from the tree and scanned the plentiful vista the island had to offer. "Aye. We'll make something of it in time. We could keep a fleet here, if we liked. And with a bit of fixing up, it'd be a decent place to call home. Might even convince my wife to come one day."

He stopped and contemplated having Caroline over.

"Yer married, are ya?" asked Kidd almost inaudibly to Edward. He was rather amazed that, in his years of knowing his fellow privateers- now full-blown pirates- he never really brought up his own wife, perhaps out of respect for her or perhaps to avoid remembering how she abandoned him. But he was surprised even more so, when he took in just how casually he discussed her now. Nevertheless, he continued, "In God's eyes, I am. She left me some time ago."

"Even so, keep that fact hid away," Kidd commented with a friendly pat on Edward's arm, "Most o' these pirates don't respect a man with higher commitments than rum an' plunder."

"'Pon mine honour. …You're not keeping your snide laugher from me, now are ya Kidd?"

"Unlike those kind o' pirates," Kidd said as he started for the jungle area, "I find 'em quali'y traits admirable, Kenway."

Edward relaxed a tad. There was something about Kidd that separated him from the typical pirate- even from their own lot of cronies. "Awright, Kidd. Let me know if ya find anything."

With a nod, Kidd left him alone.


The blonde listened intently as James Kidd showed his discoveries. Following the younger man's instructions, he clambered on top of an ancient statue and took full advantage of his gift of eagle vision. As he liked to put it, he listened to the shapes on the ground and looked at the sounds around him. And doing so, he viewed everything from a new perspective- including Kidd's voice.

The melodic tone sounded… as it usually did- though perhaps a tad crisper in its clarity. But actually taking the time to analyze each word spoken, Edward appreciated the bandana-donning boy's heavy accent and his sophisticated choice of words. He even found his undeveloped voice somehow soothing.

"Ye listenin', Kenway?"

"Pardon?"

"'Parently not. Now wipe that smile off yer face b'fore ye start ge'in ahead o' yerself an' less dig up that prize."

He chose not to mention that he had, in fact, listened to every word Kidd had said in a way he had never bothered to take the effort to do. I wonder what his singing sounds like… And prize, he says?

"Now your speakin' me language, Jim." Edward leapt down.

Kidd went on in his easy-going manner, "Bullocks. Ye solved that puzzle yerself. I'd like to think yer rather comprehensive o' the language o' riddles. A talent ye havn't explored an' exploited yet."

Edward dug where he sensed something was buried, and held up a stone object. This is something ancient Mayan. Or Incan, perhaps? A relief of some sort? He looked the slab over in wonder.

"Ye are a gift'd man, Edward. Ye don't even have to concentrate to solve a puzzle. Luck, per'aps?" Kidd spoke in a tone that was livelier than his normal voice, even through his playful sarcasm. And, for the first time in longer than he would like to admit, Edward felt that he was very much appreciated. Forget the rush of plundering ships and fulfilling contracts for a moment. Something else stirred him when he heard the bandana-donning boy address him by his first name.

Edward spoke again. "Has a strange look. Is it worth something?"

"Nothin' ye can spend, but if ya find all of 'em, it'll lead to some'n grand."

"How many?"

"A few dozen, I think. This way. I've some'n else to show ye. Some'n just here," he ran into a hidden passage, "I think ye'll take to this secret much faster."

With every minute with James Kidd, it seemed, Edward was discovering more than he by himself could find in months. Indeed, the blonde found himself suddenly eager and thirsting for more.

The pair made their way inside a cave, far from the usual trail through the jungle, in which chests brimmed with gold. Now this has the makings of a mystery! Just how much is in there?

"It's good, innit? Only wait 'til ye see what lies at the end!"

We've been here, what, two days? Three? In so little time, how did Kidd ever… ?

"'ere we are. What do ye think?"

"I think Monsieur Du Casse was a man of many secrets."

"Aye, an' look 'ere: a solid staircase leading God knows where. What do ye s'pose lies at the top?"

"From what I knew of Du Casse, wouldn't be surprised to find eclectic instruments of torture and villainy. And iron maiden, or a collection of thumbscrews."

"Or a pear of anguish!"

Edward chuckled. He was surprised and quite delighted to find that Du Casse kept some Templar armor among his beloved souvenirs, even if there was work invovled to gain access and get his hands on it. But what he was shocked to see was that the map that hesold to Torres once upon a careless time, would up back in his hands. On what was now his own island.

"Hang me. That's the map I sold to Governor Torres in Havana. He said it marked the locations of 'Assassin' encampments." Assassin encampments? Did he really say such a thing? In any case, the phrase had stuck with Edward.

Kidd narrowed his eyes at the blonde pirate, "Ye think maybe ye owe 'em a bit of a warnin' then? If ye 'ave any kind o' heart beatin' in that chest?"

Speaking of hearts, Edward noticed his was beating rather rapidly. Am I out of shape? I did quite the jog over here. But I've ran kilometers without tiring. Just a rush of excitement, then. Look at what I've acquired from the Frenchman! Those chests of gold… And imagine the power of those shimmering plates of armor! All I need now are those keys to the armor that's latched away…

"S'pose I could. If it leads me to the other four keys." The blonde smiled, accentuating his charm. But… what exactly are these assassin encampments?Kidd turned and headed for the exit, scoffing along the way.

But the boy swiftly looked back as he continued toward the door, "A bad excuse is better 'an none at all." His admonishing expression was enough to crack the ravishing persona Edward adopted and make him loosen his cheek muscles out of guilt. Was it something I said?


Finding himself at the docks and finding that Kidd's ship was being stocked, Edward approached the commotion. As he expected, it appeared that his time with James Kidd was ending for the time being.

"Z'at all, Jim? Leavin' already?" Edward asked, eagerly hoping for more "surprises."

"I'll leave the rest o' the explorin' to ye, Edward."

Edward felt some excitement at his invitation to do more adventuring, but he couldn't help but feel downcast as well. The boy went on, "I think this cove suits ye best, Edward. Be'er than that costume does."

There's that lovely wit of his again. That smirk. Better keep mine about. "Oh, c'mon now… We're pirates, Kidd. We take as we please and become who we like. Self-made men!"

"But that look ain't you. It's not who ye are."

The blonde peered at Kidd, perplexed. "Who am I, then?"

"Hard to tell some days. All I know is, ye like dangerous prizes." Kidd crossed his arms and gave his fellow pirate a wider smirk.

"Like the Observat'ry?" Edward nodded thoughtfully, "I think ya know more 'bout that than ya let on in Nassau."

"Ye no'iced that, did ye?" the boy didn't allow his tone to acknowledge his defeat at keeping his secret, if he felt defeat at all. After eyeing Edward enough to satisfy him, he went on, "Meet me at twenty degrees, three minutes latitude. Jus' off the coast o' Yucatan. I'll have something to show ye there in a few weeks time."

Edward liked the sound of that. More information on the Observatory. More surprises. And, perhaps most excitingly, more time with Kidd as well.

The blonde stared as he realized he was left behind and the sails on James Kidd's ship were steadily receding. What's wrong, Edward? This isn't you. Can't be you. What's keeping your head spinning? Could it be that… He made a grimace he hoped no one saw.

Jaysus- is this how it is?! I mustn't replace Caroline with a lad barely out of his teens, "For Christ's sake!"He yelled kicked a deck post out of frustration, prompting some Jackdaw crewmen helping load cargo to stare at their kooky captain on the other side of the docks. They looked at each other and shrugged, silently agreeing not to make a big deal of the matter.


A short chapter. I plan to make the rest twice as long. I want to say I will update every two weeks, but I have school and applications to do. I can tell you, though, that I've already written up to Chapter 5.

I'm starting to view this as a "creative essay" to convince you that Kiddway is canon. Or, rather, how the game writers should have done things to make the story even more powerful. Plenty of the writers have skills, but.. many who've played AC3- I mean Unity, now- can write pages about how tragically boring the main story was (in AC3, side stories such as the homestead missions were fun, though).

By the way, I hope the written dialogue is not influenced too much by their accents. I want you to READ in the way they speak, but it shouldn't be unreadable.

A pitiful lesson from an American on British accents: You know how when Brits say "Britain", they pronounce it BRIH-en, not BRIH-tun? I think 18th-centry pirates would pronounce "getting" GEH-uhn, but to spell it out, it would read "ge'in'". See how strange it is to read? To avoid this, I'll write "gettin'" and let you read it as GEH-uhn. I've noticed that most times, when Brits say words that has a "t" sound in the middle or end of the word, replace it with a quick breathing out sound. Ex. "start" = STAUH-ugh. "Troll" would be pronounced TRUHLL. I'd sometimes pronounce "to" as "uh", so "What're you going to do?" = WHUH-er ya GOH-won uh doou?

…That lesson on accents was lamentable.

One final thing: if ya haven't already, do check out Am I gay?: A Journey of Self Discover with Edward Kenway for a nice laugh.