Sorry, my internet's been acting up so I didn't upload. I was planning to release a bunch, but I decided to split Part I, Chapter 5 into two sections. Expect the next section in two weeks!


Part I, Chapter 5 (a)

It's a rather intimate affair, really.

Killing.

The Assassins strive for many things. As far back as its ancient history went, the hooded men and women always abided by their creed, forming a crew to be reckoned with. But, above all their beliefs- of all their creed provided for them- one rule (skill, really) summed the magic of their phantom powers:

Stealth. Hide in plain sight. A principal tenet to the brotherhood. Stealth transformed men and women with red sashes across their wastes into mystical killers. It had been the key to countless executions of corrupt figures. It guided its users and guarded them from the watchful eyes of the wicked. Stealth was (and still is) a foundation.

Without the protection of invisibility, there would be no disappearance of killers and dumfounding of pursuers. It would be no mystery where the hooded figures emerged from, nor to where they vanished. An exposed Assassin risked capture and risked crumbling the Order to ruins.

The Assassins' signature hidden blades were handy for stealth. Pistols, however, drew attention to their bearers, effectively ridding the supernatural effect. One gunshot was more than enough to destroy the magic.

Range wasn't an easy option, especially in more ancient times. Assassins needed to get close to their target- body to body- to silence them. Even with roundabout methods such as poison, verification of the death was necessary. They needed to witness their executed plan and the life of the target come to a close. They had to witness the body go limp.

More often than not, the hooded people would feel their prey slipping away as they gripped their blood-soaked fabric, a metallic stench tainting the air. The fading victims often looked their killer eye to eye. Some looked on with cold eyes, some with regretful ones. Some even gazed with giddy ones. Their final moments were there. How were they to spend them?

It was a rather intimate affair, really. Killing.

Direct action, an all-out killing spree of immediate threats, was necessary at times, particularly when there it was impossible to blend into the surroundings. Invisibility was always urged, however. After all, there were many soldiers working under Templars and other corrupt figures who were ultimately ignorant of the age-long conflict between the orders. Such heedless killing went against rule number two: stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent.

Because they worked behind the scenes, the Assassins could easily fade from view- vanish from view, sometimes, if they were skilled enough. Yet it was exactly the reason the power came with a price; fading from view also meant that they would receive little recognition for their work…


June 1717

Stealth wasn't really Edward Kenway's cup of tea when it came down to it. He personally preferred direct action for show. There was a certain thrill, though, in stalking his foes and counting their final minutes. After all- what could be in store but thresholds to riches and wealth?

Still, they were mere thresholds.

He walked the streets of Nassau alone- not even a bottle of rum at his side. He hoped to pass the time and clear his mind while Adé and the crew tended to the Jackdaw, and dawdling around the pirate republic as the day came to a close was the satisfying way to do so. Besides, there was nothing else to invest his time on, really, and he might as well be on the lookout for opportunities to get bits of coin, or perhaps, if today was his lucky day, snag information on the Sage.

Whom he let slip through his fingers, again. Edward grimaced, Tch…

His head perked up upon hearing familiar, though distant, voices. Looking to his left, he caught Thatch, Hornigold, Vane, and Rackham have a lively conversation by the gallows, as Edward had done with them together earlier in the year. He couldn't decipher what each individual was saying, as their voices drowned each other out.

Perhaps it would have been easier to unwind with them, but Edward dismissed the idea dully. Today, he decided, to do something different, he'd reflect in solitude. He went over to a wall (dilapidated, as were most structures in this crumbling place), put on his hood, and crouched to the ground, leaning coolly against the wall as he kept watching his mates banter. He stretched his legs in front of him as he mused.

Did they know about Kidd? How the boy was actually Mary Read?

Were they themselves secretly women?

No, he scoffed. Damn. What the hell was he thinking? Of course they were men, like Edward himself. They didn't have her "pre-pubescent" voice. Nor her attractive features. …Nor her rather refined style of walking.

Truly thinking it over, Edward wondered how he didn't see it coming.

It all made sense. Rather, what really wasn't comprehensible was how Edward hadn't figured it out. He prided himself with his wit and charm, particularly with the lasses. How could he not detect that one of his best mates was not who he seemed, to say the least?

He hadn't expected it then, and he still isn't unruffled about it now, for reasons he couldn't explain.

He shook his head within his hood. Oi, now. Shouldn't he be relieved and excited at the reveal? As much as Edward was bewildered at himself, Edward supposed he could try reveling in the reassurance of his heterosexuality.

He pulled himself up and began to roam toward the docks, leaving his four bantering friends behind.

At the port, Adéwale was overseeing the repairing and restocking of the ship when Edward approached him glumly.

Adé greeted his friend, "'Ow do you fare, cap'n?"

By now, Edward knew his quartermaster could sense his unease. "Ya already know, don'tcha mate," he answered back, and started towards the ramp into the Jackdaw. But Adé's pressed a hand against his captain, demanding attention.

"You 'ave sheltah'd dis attitude fo' many days, Kenway. I cannot bear it. An' neiduh can de crew."

Edward felt a pang throughout his head. It pinched his nerves from within, "Apologies, Adé, but I… I need rest. Leave me be, mm?"

He gave his quartermaster a pat on the arm as an apology for his contaminated state of mind, and disappeared into the captain's cabin.


Nighttime

It was dim on Nassau's beach; the moon and glowing windows on ships providing only spotted sanctuaries of light. The atmosphere was ideal for assassins to sneak around. In the shadows, movements that would signal suspicion in daylight could go completely unnoticed.

That night, an unseen figure tiptoed over ropes and nets scattered about the pier. It climbed the wood of a sturdy ship, slipping into the room just underneath its helm. It was quite the feat, really; the double doors hadobediently kept silent.

Meanwhile, Edward Kenway slumbered soundly. His body was drained, his mind adrift over a bandana-donning boy transforming into a lip-stained woman. Unconsciousness offered no haven from these concerns.

He pictured spending time with her on the beach, in the jungles, strolling about in the cities… He could hear her low-pitched voice that wasn't quite a man's, and link fingers with her hand as they showed each other what they had discovered. She would teach him a knot she mastered in her travels, then he would show off a pearl he fetched from an oyster in a coral reef.

A light sleeper, but particularly so on emotion-ridden nights like these, he sensed the presence of an intruder some time in the middle of the night.

He opened an eye to a ruggedly-dressed woman, her dark hair loose and her blouse exposing her tattooed bosom. She sat beside him on an armchair- the one for the desk Edward never used.

His eyes furrowed as he twisted an arm over his head and lit the gas lamp. "You? Why are ya here?" he queried groggily, rubbing his eyelids.

Mary said simply, "Pursuin' someone. B'sides," she smiled slightly and looked to the side, "I am a founder o' Nassau ye know."

Edward nodded slowly, "But why here… on the Jackdaw?"

"Well, I s'pose ye can guess whom it is I've set out fer."

He tilted his head downward but kept his gaze on her. Why you siren… or is it a succubus I'm thinking of? Edward tried playing along, his tired eyes widening and his blood pumping a tad faster, "Ya mean… them amorous ones and the like?"

Her hazel eyes lit up, "Aye! An amorous one."

Edward nodded. He wondered if she could tell he was rather beside himself right now.* "This is no dream, then," he muttered, then asked, "You were… ordered, so to say, to hunt this man down?"

"Nah. Took ma'ers into me own hands. Me target stood out 'nuff fer me to notice in the first place."

What? I'm getting lost. "And you're comfortable enough with this target of yours to visit him out of disguise?"

"Aye. This man I'm huntin' down- I've a surprise. Rather, some'n to ask o' him."

"Oh? Which is?" He didn't know if he could keep up with her analogies much longer. She couldn't be actually here to kill, can she?

"What do ye say to a li'l rendevous? On the morrow."

From Kidd to Mary to Shakespeare?, he wondered,"A 'rendezvous' with the… one you're pursuing? Shall I- Should he take that to mean…?" he raised a hopeful eyebrow.

"It's a bloody date, Edward." Mary thinned her lips in either abandonment of their game or out of sheepishness. Edward's eyes widened more and he let out a breath he realized he was holding in. She continued, "An' I wasn't hopin' for jus' one tryst- Bugger off!"

Edward had sat up and reached to tousle her hair a tad. She warded off his hand, grabbing his wrist, and put her legs up on the bed, boots pinning down Edward's thighs.

He sighed with satisfaction, "So I ain't dreaming…"

"Yer dreams prolly ain't this fine," she leered and placed his hand on the bed, patting it there before leaning back, "So whaddya say, mate? If ye've completely foregone yer wife, o' course…"

You don't have to ask again, Kidd. Caroline's well-being concerns me, but we're through. By now Edward was completely awake, and he instinctively agreed,"Would be my pleasure, Mary. But…" Something seemed wrong. "Why didn't you invite me to a 'rendezvous' a while ago?"

"'Ave ye ever 'eard of a seventeen or so year ol' lad askin' a man his senior out fer a rendezvous, Edward? Be'er yet, ever 'eard of a bloodthirsty pirate fella fancyin' another bloke? C'mon, Now what do ye propose we set out to do?"

They both broke out in grins.


"Our ship's unsinkable!" Mary exclaimed from the Jackdaw's helm.

The following few days, they had decided, they would take each other's wheels. Today, it was Mary's turn to sail the Jackdaw.

"Yer brig appears titanic, now 'at I take 'er wheel. I've grown accustomed to me schooner."**

Edward pat her on the shoulder, "Some pirates keep a parrot. Me? My Jackdaw'll do."

"Aye!" Both were awed at their combined power.

They enjoyed a few moments of tranquility on the waters. The boat swaying as they cruised, the warm wind sweeping their skin, the crew bustling about and working together… Edward was pleased with the way things were, and he could tell Mary was content as well.

Then the crew broke in song.

"O, my name was Captain Kidd, as I sailed, as I sailed," sang two crewmen. The rest echoed back, "O, my name was Captain Kidd, as I sailed."

"Oi! Ye schemer!" Mary, smirking, scolded Edward teasingly and looked towards him at her side.

"Save it for Adé," Edward responded, saluting his quartermaster out on the deck with a tilt of the head.

"I'll give 'im all the credit, then!" she laughed, and joined the crew, singing the lower melodies, "O, I murdered William Moore as I sailed."

She paused and sneered, "Ah… That verse. Paints an interestin' picture o' Kidd." They chuckled.

Edward, realizing something, turned to her and asked in a quiet voice, "If it's not the case that you're the bastard son of William Kidd, then who's your true father?"

"I'll explain in time, Edward," she assured.

"Ah, right. Too risky to discuss here," Edward left it at that, and they sang along to the rest of "Capn Kidd" with the Jackdaw's crew.

Eventually, the song ended, and Mary sighed enthusiastically. "Let's take 'er into battle," she suggested, a glint in her eye.

"Let's," Edward agreed and yelled, "Awright lads!" She's your commander in the meantime! "Shee—," he drawled and widened his eyes at what he was about to say, "—ite. Shite!" He looked up, directly at the sun, inducing a sneeze. "He's your commander in the meantime!"

"Bless ye," she murmured sarcastically before yelling, "Ye all 'ear 'im! Man the cannons- we'll wrestle the firs' Spanish brig we spot!" She leaned in towards Edward and murmured again, "Ye know, ye might've actually fooled 'em with 'at dramatic speech-interruptin' sneeze o' yers."

He placed his hands on his waist and shifted his weight to one foot, "Impressive way to disguise my slip? I make do, mate."

Adé called out, "Capn Kidd! Spanish brig yonduh!"

The two captains followed the direction he pointed and, behold, a Spanish brig.

Mary shouted back back, "Aye! All ye handlin' the mor'ar- on me call, unload all ye got!"

Edward observed the other ship using his spyglass, "She's the metal-bearing type. Hoped to come by one, actually. Care to tip the split of the supply in my favor, Kidd?"

He turned towards her, "Kidd?"

"FIRE!"

Mortar blasted in the air, showering the brig with fire. By the time the Spaniards were prepared for battle, the pirates were approximately 200 meters away, and the Jackdaw was headed straight for the brig's side.

"I been achin' to put this ram to use, Kenway!" Mary hollered, her eyes wild, "Unloose all the sail we got, lads! Launch the chain shots NOW, an' ready the 'eavy!"

The Jackdaw's ram plunged into the wood of the Spanish ship and swept across its side, disabling several cannons. I'll have to try this technique sometime, Edward mused. Usually he simply lunged forward and retreated, but scraping the enemy's side appeared rather effective.

"Gimme some 'eavy shot!" the ignited cannon balls wrecked the distressed brig even further, "An' you, mannin' the swivel gun! Spot 'er frailties an' do 'er in! An' if ye can plug the capn with yer shots, do that as well. Kenway- assist with reloadin'!" she grinned fiercely at him.

Edward's heart raced. So this is James Kidd in action. They had already impaired the other brig significantly, while the Jackdaw was practically untouched. Impressive, especially for her first time sailing the brig. "Aye, aye!"

The Spanish brig slowed from the damage it took, and the Jackdaw sailed past it.

Edward yelled from beside the swivel gun, "Shall we unleash the barrels, Capn Kidd?"

"'Old it, Kenway," she uttered while turning the wheel forcefully, "Trim the yards off the wind! All o' it!"

Edward liked this strategy, or he thought he did. He approached the helm in concern, "Kidd! They'll ram into us as well!"

"Trus' me, mate," she steadied the wheel once they faced their opposition, "They'll aim for 'at ram, and we'll-"

"Capn! Ready to fire!"

"'Old fire!" she yelled, "Load the 'eavy shot but 'old yer bloody fire!"

The ships neared like knights jousting, except only the Spanish brig was moving. They fired chain shot at the Jackdaw, skimming off some wood.

"Kidd…" Edward urged.

"Haul down the sail!" Mary began to turn the wheel again, with more might this time, "On me call, blast 'er with 'eavy shot anew! An' ready the swivel guns!"

The crew cheered once they incapacitated the brig.

The Spaniards already had their hands raised in surrender once the pirates stormed aboard, but they all remained standing. The Jackdaw crew busied themselves at once, pocketing anything of value.

"Down, all o' ye!" Mary threatened with her pistols. After a few seconds of the men in yellow giving each other uncomprehending looks, she demanded, "¡Arrodillénse!"

They knelt immediately, and one Spanish man whimpered, "¡El diablo habla español!"

"¿Quién habla inglés?" she demanded, glaring at each Spaniard and pointing her pistols at their heads, "¿Nadie? Nosotros queremos los otros bienes. ¿Dónde están?" The Jackdaw crewmen paused their plundering to stare at their makeshift captain's Spanish. Edward kept his own mouth half-open as he watched his compañera.


* The science behind falling in love - quoted from youramazingbrain .org: Psychologists have shown it takes between 90 seconds and 4 minutes to decide if you fancy someone.

Research has shown [deciding if someone is desirable] has little to do with what is said, rather:

55% is through body language

38% is the tone and speed of their voice

Only 7% is through what they say

** Don't mind the Titanic references.

MERRY (Mary) Christmas.

In the meantime, check out this pirate christmas song I found! youtube watch?v=2E7hn5Yt98E