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Chapter Text

Alright lads, I’ll give you Blackbeard’s honest opinion. You ask me, can this new Captain promise you a life of prizes, plunder, and adventure? 

Aye. For amongst all the gentlemen of fortune sailing these West-Indies, he ranks amongst the most clever. 

There was a time when I thought myself the deadliest scourge of these seas. But this man is a fearsome dog that feeds off trouble and turmoil. I’ve seen him clear the deck of a Spanish galleon like it were nothing. Fightin’ like a Devil, dressed like a man, with an Angel of Death at his side. 

Those two are fiercely protective of each other. And he’s a canny one! Knows his way around every crag and crevasse of these islands. So if it’s fortune and adventure you seek, then Captain Edward Kenway’s your man. 

Only, don’t insult his Angel, and don’t meddle in his private affairs, for there’s more mystery to that man than even I dare ask.

*************

Sailors are very superstitious. It’s in their nature. So many things can go wrong at sea, so the men who live and work on the waters do everything they can to discourage any bad luck.

They say that having a woman aboard a ship is very bad luck. Hence, the crew of one particular ship were angry and blamed the female passenger for their unfortunate situation.

In truth, they would’ve been set upon by pirates even if the lady hadn’t been on their ship.

Knowing where the crewmen were placing their blame, the young woman chose to climb the mizzenmast. From there, she could see the smaller vessel that had sunk the gunboats. Her perch also had the advantage of not being a target for cannon fire. She watched as her mentor snuck onto the pirate ship and assassinated their Captain.

Unfortunately, a fire had started in the powder magazine, causing the enemy vessel to explode. At the same time, the British ship also began to sink. The young woman leapt off of the mizzenmast into the salt water below close to shore. 

As she swam to solid ground, she could just barely hear two men talking further up the beach. One of the voices she recognized as her mentor, but she couldn’t make out their words. 

She wandered over to the sandy lagoon, noticing one of Duncan’s pistols half buried in the grit. A man in a brown vest and cotton trousers ran off into the sparse jungle. After taking a minute to regain her strength, the young woman gave chase, following the intermittent shouts of the male survivors.

“We could work together on this!” she heard the stranger yell.

“Keep your distance!” She could hear the anger in Duncan’s voice, even though she still had a lot of running to do to catch up. 

A single gunshot rang out, and a few minutes later, the woman heard the distinct sound of swords clashing. She ran as fast as she could, but by the time she caught up with the men, the fight was already over.

A large trail of blood led to a clump of bushes. Being an Assassin in training, the young woman had no issue with blood. Her issue was with the blonde stranger wearing Duncan’s robes.

“Mr. Walpole, let’s collect your reward,” she heard the man say to himself as she snuck up behind him.

Instead of announcing herself, she drew her sword, letting the sound of the metal get the stranger’s attention.

The man calmly turned around, his hands up in a placating gesture. A look of recognition passed over his face as he registered her similar hooded outfit.

“Ah, you must be Miss Quinn, yes? I believe you should be thanking me, rather than threatening me.”

“Why in the world would I do that?” she interrogated.

“Because your Mr. Walpole meant to sell you out to Governor Torres once you got to Havana.”

“What are you talking about? He would never.”

“Here, read for yourself.” He handed over the letter he found on Duncan.

Señor Duncan Walpole, 

I accept your most generous offer, and await your arrival with eagerness. If you truly possess the information we desire, we have the means to reward you handsomely. Though I will not know your face by sight, I believe I can recognize the costume made infamous by your secret Order. If you so wish, I would be glad to take Miss Quinn off of your hands. I have long desired to make an example of one of the Masters of your Order, but under the circumstances, your young Novice will suffice. Therefore, come to Havana in haste, and trust that your protege will be dealt with, and you shall be welcomed as a Brother. 

Your most humble servant, Governor Laureano Torres y Ayala.

“Why, that lying sack of sh… Hang on, don’t tell me you mean to impersonate Duncan to meet Torres?”

“Actually, that was exactly what I was planning. Though, I have no intention of handing you over, if that makes you feel any better, lass.” Edward’s lazy grin softened into a more curious expression. “Who was Duncan Walpole? I mean, who was he to you?”

“Duncan was my mentor, training me in the ways of our Order. But I am still very new to this life, and I’m not allowed to do any missions without him.”

“Is there anyone else on these islands who might be better able to help you out of such a strange predicament?”

“Well, I do have some allies in Havana, but Duncan hadn’t got the chance to introduce me. I have a few names, but not their exact locations.”

“Seems like you’ll have to stick with me… at least till we get to Havana.”

The woman scrutinized her new Welsh acquaintance for a moment or two, coming to the conclusion that the man was a trustworthy pirate, as strange as the notion was.

“I’m Cassandra Quinn,” she introduced herself, holding out a hand to shake.

“Edward Kenway, pleasure to meet you, lass.”

“So, how are we supposed to get to Havana without transportation?”

“Leave that to me.”

The pair of would-be Assassins looked over the edge of a nearby cliff to investigate the sound of gunfire. A boat was anchored in the bay, but they’d first have to get past the handful of British soldiers guarding a couple civilians.

“That schooner will do me just fine,” Edward muttered.

“The Commodore’s gone ahead to Kingston,” the Lieutenant said below. “We’re to commandeer this lubber’s ship and follow.”

“Sorry, uh… Kingston?” one of the civilians stuttered. “No, no. Our destination is Havana. I’m just a merchant-“

“Quiet, you bleedin’ pirate. You’ll hang for the mess you made out there.”

“Sir, I had nothing to do with this attack. My crew and I had merely anchored to water and resupply.”

Some of the merchant’s crew tried to escape.

“Hold it! Stop them!” The soldiers shot at the escapees, killing them before they could get far. The Lieutenant turned back to the merchant. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t vent your skull,” he threatened.

“Take my sugar! Take anything you like,” the merchant pleaded.

Edward quickly leapt from the cliff into a large pile of palm fronds, moving out to hide in the nearby foliage. Cassandra followed soon after. Edward stalked to the left, approaching the merchant and the soldiers guarding him. Cassandra worked her way to the other side of the beach, quietly dispatching the soldiers patrolling the secluded spot. As the number of soldiers dwindled to three, the assassins revealed themselves and Edward effortlessly killed the remaining redcoats.

“By God’s grace, you saved me. A profusion of thanks,” the merchant said as Edward helped him off of the ground.

“Is that your’s?” The woman asked about the ship anchored nearby.

“It is my vessel, yes. Ah, but here lies its poor Captain,” he said, gesturing to a body nearby. “And I have no art for sailing.”

“I can pilot her myself. No mind,” Edward said.

“You don’t mean to abscond with my ship, do you?” The merchant began to worry.

“I’m Duncan,” Edward introduced himself and the young woman after a moment of thought. “This is Miss Quinn. What’s your name, friend?”

“Stede. Stede Bonnet.”

“Well, Mr. Bonnet, let this stay ‘twixt us… but we’re on a secret errand for His Majesty the King, God save him, and we must get to Havana with speed,” Edward lied smoothly.

“Oh, that is a relief, sir. Havana is also my destination. Our ways lie together,” Bonnet smiled.

“Natural allies, then.”

“Oh, you put me at ease, sir. To think I took you for a pirate when you first appeared.”

“Did you?” Edward asked, a little on edge. Cassandra failed to suppress her grin.

“Yes, you two have an… uncommon way of handling yourselves. Quick and easy, if I may say. Gave me quite a fright. But all things considered, I think it’s turned out to be a rather fortuitous day, hasn’t it?” 

Bonnet’s optimism was refreshing, in Cassandra’s opinion. Duncan had been quite the pessimist, and narcissistic as well. Almost everything annoyed the traitor, and everything that ever went wrong was always someone else’s fault. 

While Duncan always looked for something to complain about, Cassandra was the opposite. She was very laid-back, easy-going, and due to her time spent with Duncan, she went out of her way to not be a bother to anyone. 

“Lacking a rowboat, I’m afraid we’ll have to swim to my ship,” Bonnet said.

“Hardly the worst thing to happen,” Edward remarked.

The three began to paddle out to the small ship.

“Oh, this is difficult. I should’ve taken the coat off,” Bonnet stated. 

Cassandra took just a bit longer to reach the boat. Her vision was greatly impaired by the time her fingers touched the solid wood. Between the tears and her rapid-fire blinking, trying to alleviate the burning, she could hardly see the handholds. A calloused hand firmly gripped her arm, and helped haul her up to the deck.

“Sorry,” she apologized, trying to wipe off her face. “I’m not quite used to the salt water yet.”

“It’s not a problem, lass.” Edward kept his grip on her arm, only loosening his hold a bit. He led her to a nearby stack of crates and guided her to sit down. “With patience and practice, that obstacle is easily overcome.” Kenway left her there, knowing she’d be safely out of the way as her sight recovered.

“Welcome aboard,” Bonnet said as the pirate took the wheel. They began sailing out of the bay at a slow pace. “She’s a modest schooner, but well-suited to my purpose. Trafficking cargo from my plantation and such.”

“She’ll do fine. There’s a strong wind now. Let’s strike to full sail, shall we?” Edward suggested. The ship sped up under Kenway’s command.

“Ah, there’s a tug of the wind at my hair. I find a bracing comfort in the feel and smell of the ocean. The raw stink of… possibility.” Bonnet continued chatting from his seat on another crate. Cassandra finally regained her normal vision, and was content to listen to their conversation.

“That’s a top way of seeing it, Mate.”

“Those sailors were quite animated by the idea of pirates roaming these waters. Is it a real danger, you suppose?”

“A possibility, but most pirates stalk the windward passage between Cuba and Hispaniola.”

“Oh, I see, yes. That is a bustling straight, but I shouldn’t worry about being waylaid by pirates, truth be told. My ship is small, and I have nothing of immense value. Sugar cane and it’s yields, molasses, rum, that sort of thing.”

“There’s not a pirate living who’d turn his back on a keg of rum.”

“Well, yes… Yes, I suppose that’s true.”

Edward confidently directed the schooner, zigzagging around the sandbars and rocky crags that turned the small bay into a maze of shallows.

“You’re a natural sailor, Duncan,” Bonnet remarked.

“I did a decent trick at the helm some time ago. Two years before the mast as a Privateer.”

“Dash my buttons! Your life seems a grand one, if I may say. So full of adventure, how marvelous.”

“I’ve seen my share of strangeness, aye.” The pirate glanced at Cassandra, thinking to himself that the young woman was probably the strangest thing yet. A mystery he was keen to solve.

*************

*************

“Ah… lively Havana! I’ve been here once before. It was a truly awe-ful pleasure,” Bonnet said as he began waving to the people on shore.

“See someone you know?” Cassandra asked.

“No, no, no. Just putting on a friendly face. I shouldn’t want to be mistaken for a pirate again.”

“Right. Flash rogue like yourself must be cautious,” Edward teased.

“It’s mad to think Spain and England were at war two years ago, isn’t it?” Bonnet said as they began unloading crates from the ship. “Here I am, bartering with Spaniards like they were my cousins.” Bonnet and Cassandra noticed Edward gazing worriedly at the soldiers. “Something wrong, Duncan?”

“No. It’s nothing. Sand in my hampers. So where’s the best squat in town? I’m dying for a quick kip. Or a siesta, should I say?”

“Um… I’m just headed to a public house now to meet some merchants. I could… I could show you the way,” Bonnet offered as he picked up a small crate of sugar.

“Well, lead on.”

“Will you join us, Miss Quinn?” Bonnet asked.

“Of course,” she smiled, and the trio began walking.

“I hope you’ll tarry a bit while I conduct my meeting. It would be a great relief to have fighters such as yourselves nearby. In case of a… misunderstanding.”

“We can hang about. I might have a drink,” Edward said.

“Splendid!” Bonnet remarked before they walked past a row of hanging cages containing skeletons. A sign above them threatened ‘Pyrates Beware.’

“Well, they don’t take kindly to pirates here, do they? Wonder how many stolen reales bought these men this perch?” Edward mused.

On solid ground, the trio walked past a group of dancers.

“Hola, ladies,” Edward flirted. The girls flared their open skirts, showing off their legs. One of them even shot a saucy wink at Cassandra, which flustered the inexperienced woman greatly.

“You don’t know these women, do you?” Bonnet asked.

“No. They charge money for that kind of privilege. Few dozen reales for every hour of knowing. Keen to meet them?” Kenway offered.

“No! Goodness, no. I’m a married man.”

“Married men are their forte, mate.”

“Know this from experience?” Cassandra teased. The Welshman merely smirked at her jab.

“Ah! Here’s a purveyor of personal defenses! I should acquire a blade for myself, just as you two have,” Bonnet said as they came upon a blacksmiths store.

“This rusty razor is nothing to admire,” Edward stated of his own swords.

“Even so, I appear a mere kitten walking so close upon you. Perhaps a small dagger would suit me. Let’s see what he’s selling.”

“Maybe I’ll buy a sword, too. We’ll both jump rank.”

“Ah, we’d be quite the pair, you and I. Twin devils accompanied by an angel.” Cassandra blushed at the merchant’s compliment.

“Lend us a few reales, then,” Edward suggested. “I did save your skin.”

“Ah, uh… of course!”

“Cheers.”

“Hold on,” Cassandra interrupted the men. “Please, keep your money Mr. Bonnet. Duncan was only being cheeky.” She shot a glare at the pirate who didn’t even bother to act sheepish. The woman stealthily pushed a few of her own coins into the pirate’s hand. “I realize he’s an easy mark,” she whispered to Edward. “But he’s an innocent civilian. Save your sticky fingers for targets that actually deserve to be robbed.”

He merely nodded before turning to purchase a pair of British cutlasses.

“That’s a better fit for me. How’d you fare?” he asked as they resumed walking.

“I had only enough for a small knife, sadly. Still, it’ll do in a pinch. Are you not purchasing a fresh blade as well, Miss Quinn?” Bonnet asked.

“I’ve taken good care of the ones I have, and they haven’t failed me yet,” she answered.

“Oh, puffer-duff… I have led us astray,” Bonnet stated as they came upon a church.

“Oh, no matter. I’ll get us a better view. What are we looking for?” Edward asked.

“Uh, a tavern. With a sort of courtyard interior,” Bonnet informed. 

Kenway began climbing the church bell tower. Cassandra decided to climb from the opposite side of the building, as a way to practice her skills.

“My goodness, you’re an agile pair,” Bonnet remarked.

“Every finger’s a fishhook! That’s how you tell a true sailor,” Edward yelled back.

“Ah ha! Yes. A fine way to put it.”

The Assassins made their way to the top of the bell tower, each surveying the view from opposite sides.

“I think I see the place, it’s not that far,” Edward said, but Bonnet’s yells for help distracted the pair.

“Ahh! Stop!” The merchant cried.

“ Stop struggling, fat man!” The robber shouted in Spanish.

“I’ll go after the thief. You stay with Bonnet, and make sure he’s alright,” Edward instructed before leaping into the haystack below.

“Oh! He’s robbed me blind! Good god, what do I do?” Bonnet continued to panic.

“Hang tight,” Edward said as he chased the robber. Cassandra had waited for him to get out of the hay before making her own leap. She quickly went to Bonnet’s side.

“Oh, I can’t breathe. I think my heart has stopped,” Bonnet worried, gasping.

“You just need to calm down. Duncan will be right back with your stolen money, alright?” She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, and the man began to relax once more. “The tavern is just down the road. Let’s start heading that way and wait for him to return.”

Stede merely nodded, allowing the woman to slowly lead him to the tavern. Just before they got there, Edward reappeared.

“Duncan, by Jove, you’re alive!” Bonnet was overjoyed.

“Of course I am. That filch was no fuss.”

The trio meandered inside. Bonnet went to find the other merchants while Edward and Cassandra sat at a table.

“Fancy meeting a Welshman deep in Dago country,” a drunkard remarked from a nearby stool. “I’m English, meself. Biding my time ‘til the next war calls me to service.”

“Lucky King George having a piss-pot like you flying his flag,” Edward shot a retort. He grabbed a bottle from a passed out patron and took a swig before offering the drink to Cassandra. She shook her head, a somewhat disgusted look on her face, and leaned back in her chair.

“Oy, skulk! I’ve seen your face before,” the drunk man pushed the dancer off of his lap and stumbled over to their table. “You’s mates with them pirates down in Nassau.”

“Shut your fucking gob or I’ll fill it with shot. You hear me?”

“Haha. Edward, isn’t it?” The man pulled Kenway’s hood back. Edward quickly headbutted the man, knocking him out. But the drunk had friends who then ganged up on the pirate.

Cassandra snuck up behind one and broke a bottle over his head. Kenway looked at the woman in surprise.

“I can’t let you have all the fun,” she sassed. 

Edward grinned and the pair fought seamlessly together, knocking out all the rowdy drunk men that came at them.

Unfortunately, a group of Spanish soldiers stormed the tavern.

“Stay with Bonnet,” Edward instructed once again. The merchant appeared from behind the young woman.

“You- you’re not leaving me?” Bonnet whimpered.

“I’ll catch you up!” Kenway threw a smoke bomb at the soldier’s feet, escaping while they were incapacitated. More guards surrounded the patrons left inside the tavern.

“Oh dear,” Cassandra muttered.

*************

Bonnet and Cassandra decided to wait down by the ship for Edward to reappear.

“Sorry about the swift exit,” their runaway companion apologized as he came up behind them. “Bit of a misunderstanding.”

“One heaped upon another,” Bonnet said as he revealed his new swollen black eye. Cassandra had a bruised jaw and split lip, and with the way she was holding herself Edward suspected a couple of bruised ribs were hidden under her robes.

“Oh, Jaysus. I’m sorry, this is my doing. I’m only trying to keep these Spanish eyes off me.”

“Oh, it’s no bother,” Bonnet brushed off. “Regrettably, the soldiers confiscated my sugar and your dispatches.”

“Damn! And where’ve they gone?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea, I’m afraid.” Bonnet pointed at a pair of guards standing close by. “I suspect those chaps might, but my Spanish is muy maldad , so I’d- I’d rather not ask.”

“It’s my fault,” Cassandra muttered, just loud enough for Edward to hear. “I should’ve followed them after…”

“No, you’re injured, so don’t blame yourself,” Edward reassured her. “Come on, let’s follow them and recover my maps.” He began walking off.

“And my sugar?” Bonnet asked hopefully.

“What, in my drawers?” Edward asked sarcastically. Bonnet simply shrugged. “We’ll see what happens,” he offered, which seemed to placate the merchant for the moment. 

“You go along without me. I have to find my… friends,” Cassandra said to the two men. Edward gave a nod as he and Bonnet began to tail the guards.

Cassandra found another nearby church to climb, trying to find the Assassin’s Bureau in Havana. It took her a couple hours to find their hideout, which was understandable since a Secret Order wouldn’t advertise their location.

The young woman cautiously walked into the courtyard and saw another woman stacking small barrels of gunpowder.

“Excuse me?”

“Ah, hello there,” the woman put down another barrel. “How can I help you, Sister?”

“Um… hi, I’m Cassandra Quinn. Would I be correct in thinking you’re Rhona Dinsmore?”

“Yes, that’s me. Where's Duncan? Weren’t you supposed to come with him?”

“Duncan is dead.”

“Templars?”

“No, pirates. But it actually turned out in our favor.”

“How so?”

“He was a traitor. Meant to join the Templars and let them do what they would to me.”

“Oh dear… well, I suppose that did work out for you. What about the pirates? Have any trouble from them?”

“No, actually. The one that killed Duncan helped me get to Havana. I’d still be stuck in Cape Bonavista if it weren’t for him.”

“Aaah, sounds like you’ve taken a shine to the rogue sailor. What’s his name?”

“Edward Kenway. The man is quite the scoundrel, but he’s honest… for a pirate. Anyways, I was wondering what I’m supposed to do next, since my traitorous mentor is no longer among the living.”

“Here, why don’t we go inside. You can write a report about what happened, and I’ll send it back to Head Office. In the meantime, you can help out with smaller missions in town.”

“Oh, like what?”

“Well, we found out that the Templar’s have found a Sage, and they’re taking him to Governor Torres’s compound. A group is going to ambush them tomorrow in the market to free the sage. You’re welcome to join.”

“Sounds like fun,” Cassandra grinned.

*************

“Good morning, Sir! Would I be correct in thinking you are Duncan Walpole?” An Englishman in a brown coat and a spiderwebbed scar on his face greeted Edward at Torres’s mansion.

“I am indeed,” Edward replied.

“I thought as much. Woodes Rogers. A pleasure,” The man introduced himself.

“The same.”

“I must say, my wife has a terrible eye for description.”

“I’m sorry?”

“My wife. You met her some years ago at the Percy’s masquerade ball.”

“Ah! Quite…”

“She called you ‘devilishly handsome’. Obviously a lie to stoke my jealousy,” Rogers joked before turning to another man in a large brimmed hat and red cloak. “Julien. Our guest of honor has arrived.”

“Ah… Julien du Casse,” he named himself. “I hope your conversion to our Order is an honest one. I have no love for Assassins, but even less for liars.”

“I have not come to disappoint,” Edward said.

“Up for a bit of sport, Duncan?” Rogers held out a pistol. “The old man isn’t ready just yet.” The three men lined up on the veranda, aiming at several straw targets set up in the yard. “You’ve got my two best pairs of matched pistols, Duncan, so handle them with care.”

“If I had eight, I’d treat each as my own son.”

“Pull off a few shots if you like. Get a feel for it.”

“I once fought beside a man who carried nine on his person,” Julien piped up. “They were a boon in battle, but hindered his ability to swim, sadly. I long for the day where one firearm carries four bullets, and not the opposite.”

After a few minutes of shooting, Julien turned to Edward again.

“Duncan, where are your wrist blades? I have never seen an Assassin so ill equipped.”

“Ah. Damaged, sadly. Beyond all repair.” The Frenchman led him over to a box.

“Have your choice,” Julien said, opening the lid to reveal several pairs of blades.

“Where did you find all these?”

“I did not find them. I took them. These are souvenirs.”

The trio moved further into the property, demanding a demonstration of the Assassin’s techniques, to which Edward was hesitant, but obliged nevertheless. As they continued walking through a garden and out to the patio, they discussed such topics as Julien’s weapon smuggling business and Roger’s successful eradication of pirates in Madagascar.

“Grandmaster Torres. Mister Duncan Walpole has arrived,” Rogers called to the older gentleman on the patio.

“Sí… You and your Novice were expected one week ago,” Torres said to Edward.

“Apologies, Governor. My ship was set upon by pirates. We were scuttled and Miss Quinn was lost in the fight. I arrived only yesterday,” Kenway lied. He figured the young woman would be in less danger if these men thought she had already died.

“Unfortunate. Forgive my caution, but were you able to salvage from these pirates the items you promised me?”

“Ah, yes sir. I was.” Kenway handed over a glass cube and the maps.

“Incredible. The Assassins have more resources than I had imagined but… not nearly enough to deter us. It is a pleasure to meet you at last, Duncan. You are most welcome. Come gentlemen. We have much to discuss.”

With Torres’s bodyguard, a man known as El Tiburón, following them, the Templars and Edward moved to another room. 

“Convened at last. And in such continental company… England, France, Spain… citizens of sad and corrupted empires,” Torres began. 

He took a small box from El Tiburón. 

“But you are Templars now. The secret and true legislators of the world. Please, hold out your hands. Mark and remember our purpose. To guide all wayward souls ‘til they reach a quiet road.” He put a ring on Julien’s hand. “To guide all wayward desire ‘til impassioned hearts are cooled.” He gave a ring to Rogers. “To guide all wayward minds to safe and sober thought.” He gave a ring to Edward. “By the Father of Understanding’s Light, let our work now begin.”

*************

*************

“Well, that didn’t pan out…” Rhona said as the Assassins made their way back to the Bureau. They had conducted the ambush in the market as planned, but thanks to a certain pirate pretending to be a rogue Assassin, a number of their Brothers were dead and the Templars still had the Sage.

“At least we still know where they’re keeping him,” Cassandra offered. “A couple of us could sneak into Torres’s jail at night, grab the Sage, and be out before the Templars realize we’ve been there.”

“Aye, sounds like a decent plan. Think you could do it on your own?”

“Huh?! I-I don’t know. It seems that I keep screwing things up lately,” Cassandra admitted.

“Oy! It’s not your fault that your mentor was a turn-coat. It’s not your fault that today’s mission didn’t work out. You are not to blame for any of this shit, alright?” Rhona stared down the young woman until she managed a nod. “Right then, I think you need to carry out your own plan by yourself. It’ll help you gain some confidence back. So, rest up here, wait for nightfall to make your move, and go get the Sage.”

*************

Cassandra climbed down from the roof of the jail, blending into the shadows. Slinking around the corners, she came upon a strange sight. The guards had been slain, left to soak in pools of their own blood. She wandered further into the hold. She heard a metallic clank sound somewhere behind her, and a sharp pain erupted in her skull. Confusion gave way to disappointment for a brief moment before her world faded to black.

Edward came upon the same scene just moments later, finding the dead guards and the unconscious young woman. El Tiburón snuck up behind him, suckerpunching the pirate just once.

“ Enough !” Torres ordered from the doorway. He, Julien, and a handful of guards surrounded the Assassins. “What is your true name, rogue?”

“It’s, ah… Captain Pissoff,” Kenway jeered. Incapacitated and disoriented as he was, he remained crouched protectively over Cassandra.

“ Nothing but a filthy peasant ,” Julien sneered. “Though she has such a pretty face.” He leaned closer to get a better look at the female Novice.

“Where is the Sage? Did you set him free?” Torres asked.

“I had nothing to do with that, much as I wish I did,” Edward admitted.

“Take them both to the ports. Send them to Seville with the Treasure Fleet,” Torres ordered. El Tiburón and another guard hauled Edward by his arms while Julien slung the unconscious woman over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

“Wait now! I delivered your treasures, didn’t I?” Edward argued.

“You did, yes. But you robbed us of Duncan Walpole.”

Chapter Text

The hard wood creaked and scratched at Cassandra’s injured head. Water sloshed somewhere nearby. The world seemed to rock and tilt, until she realized that was because she was on a boat.

“She’s waking up,” an unfamiliar deep voice whispered to her right.

Cassandra groaned and tried to sit up, but her head swam, disoriented from the blow she took. Strong hands gripped her left arm and shoulder, helping her up but forcing her to slow her movements. Cassandra realized that their feet were locked under a metal bar.

“Easy there, Cassie. You took quite a hit,” Edward said, keeping his voice low.

“My head feels like I’ve been kicked by a horse,” she grumbled.

“What happened with the Sage?” Edward questioned.

“I don’t know. He was gone by the time I got there. I thought it might’ve been you.”

“Shhh,” the other man hissed, noticing a guard approaching them. The Spaniard threw down a metal plate with a tiny bit of food, ordering them to eat quickly.

“You hungry?” Edward asked sarcastically. He shared a nod with the dark-skinned man and they each grabbed onto the bar, swiftly breaking the chain and freeing themselves. “Now, what’s your plan, mate?” Edward asked the man as he helped steady Cassandra once more.

“Find my weapon and steal a ship,” he answered honestly.

“I quite like the sound of that idea,” Cassandra grinned. The three escapees worked their way through the ship’s hold, assassinating any guards they found until at last they reached their weapons.

“Christ, the seas are uneasy today,” Edward remarked as he noticed how much the ship was rocking on the waters.

“Hurricane coming,” their new friend said.

“Hurricane? Jaysus.”

“We’re stealing a brig,” the man said as the trio re-equipped their own weapons. “Take what you need.”

“Won’t be a minute,” Edward said as he took a leather armored vest from among the confiscated items. Cassandra finished with her items as well, and they made their way to the ladder leading up to the deck.

“There’s many prisoners held on these ships. Set them free, and they’ll sail with us, no question,” the stranger advised.

“So that’s the idea then? Free what men we can, then find a fast ship to flee in?” Edward asked.

“Aye. There’s a brig in this fleet. I’ll make my way to it.” The man jumped overboard and swam to the brig.

“You should go with him, lass,” Edward turned a worried gaze to Cassandra. “Find a safe spot to hunker down on that ship and recover.”

“You seem to forget how superstitious most sailors are. If I help you free more prisoners, they won’t be as resentful toward sailing with a woman.”

“Hmm… I suppose that’s true. Just stay close to me, alright?”

Cassandra nodded and the pair began creeping along, killing every guard on the deck of every ship and freeing as many prisoners as they found. The men were so thankful that they had no qualms about the woman’s presence onboard. 

But once they took the brig and made to escape, several gunships gave chase. Luckily enough, the small ships were easily devastated by a rogue wave. Edward instructed the crew and evaded the threatening waves and waterspouts with expert skill. Their dark skinned friend also gave orders as he saw fit and Cassandra alerted Kenway to every new threat that came their way. The three danced around each other in their seamless teamwork, each offering what skills they had and providing support where the others were lacking.

Soon enough, they sailed out of the maelstrom, leaving the rest of the fleet to sink under the waves, and the crew cheered as they reached calm waters.

“By god, we pulled this one straight from the teeth of Neptune,” Edward chuckled, almost out of breath from the adrenaline rush. “I’m Edward,” he shook hands with their new friend. “Much thanks for your aid back there.”

“Adewalé,” The man supplied.

“Ever been to Nassau, Adewalé?” Kenway asked.

“Not yet.”

“We’ll need to repair the ship before we get into anymore battles,” Cassandra said as she peered at the damaged sides of the hull. Edward walked up to her side to survey the wreckage for himself.

“By god, she took some knocks, didn’t she? I think I’ll keep her,” Edward decided.

“What are you going to call her?” Cassandra asked.

“I’ll have to think about that for a while.” He took the wheel once again. “All hands aft, lads. We’re taking this one home.”

*************

*************

“I’ve made my choice,” Edward said to Adewalé and Cassandra as they stood around the ship’s wheel. “I’m calling her the Jackdaw, for a sly bird I loved as a child back in Swansea.”

“A dark little creature, no?” The man asked with a tinge of mirth.

“Did it rub you wrong when I took this brig as my own?”

“It was the sort of rub I have learned to endure sailing among faces of such… fairness.”

“It’s true, most of these men wouldn’t accept you as a captain. So what fair role would complement such unfairness?”

“I’ll be your quartermaster. Nothing less.”

“All right. And as quartermaster, have you any immediate counsel for this tyro Captain?”

“Rest and repast would do us good before Nassau. Water for drinking. Hunting for food and repairs.”

“Well reasoned, sir. Hunting it shall be. We’ll find a decent place to drop anchor. Abaco Island isn’t far from here.”

“It amazes me how well you know these islands, Kenway,” Cassandra remarked with a smile.

“Stick around, lass. You won’t be disappointed,” Edward said. “I spied a few items in the Hold earlier… powder and a few pistols. I think I’ll fashion a second holster if I can.”

Adéwalé laughed.

“It’s a good start,” he noted.

“One you find laughable?”

“Could we talk for a moment about the condition of the ship?”

“What’s the trouble?”

“I had a walk about the gun deck this morning, and I couldn’t stand for what I saw. A clutter of linstocks heaped like tinder… and one with a slow match still burning.”

“Christ.”

“And just nearby, two barrels of gunpowder closer than man and wife, fit to explode at the touch of a spark.”

“We’ll stow ours good and proper.”

“As for the cannons, they might as well be tossed. Clogged touch-holes in need of scraping; corrosion on the bodies; barrel swabs as naked as knives, and breech-ropes so rotted I could use them for knitting yarn. The short of it is, we need good equipment, kept in fine condition. For we cannot win every battle with sneers and shouts. So worry about your own armaments when it suits you. But don’t forget about your Jackdaw as well.”

“No, indeed. We’ll make it a point to keep this ship and its crew in fine condition.”

They finally reached Abaco island and anchored just offshore.

“I’m coming with you, Kenway,” Cassandra asserted. “I need to stretch my legs a bit.”

“What, a walk around the deck won’t do?” Edward teased.

“As I recall, it was you who said to swim more often to get used to the saltwater. Besides, you’re not the only one who could do with some upgraded equipment,” she sassed.

Adéwalé started laughing again.

“Looks like you brought an actual Jackdaw with us, Captain,” Adé laughed even more, which got Edward to start chuckling as well.

“You are a feisty little bird, Cassie. Of course you can come with,” Edward grinned.

“Alright then. If you two are quite settled down, then we can get going.”

“After you, lass.” The grin on Edward’s face never faltered.

The two dove off the side of the ship and swam to shore. It took less time for Cassandra to recover than their initial meeting in Cape Bonavista, Edward noticed. The assassins scouted the small island, finding plenty of iguanas and ocelots to hunt for their pelts and bones.

It wasn’t long before they swam back to the Jackdaw, greeting Adé on the deck.

“Ahoy Captain. Find what you need?”

“My needs and wants are oceans apart, mate. But we did fashion ourselves some new holsters. All we need now are some pistols to lie in them,” Edward noted.

“Here,” Adéwalé offered a single pistol to the new captain. “Taken from the Hold, just as you said. Unfortunately, that one was the only gun we found that still works,” he explained.

“Little more than a blow-pipe, but it’ll do. Would you like to take this one, lass?”

“I’d rather have an actual blow-pipe. You keep it. I can buy one later,” Cassandra said.

“So, are we rested? Or shall we idle a while longer?” Edward asked, mostly to Adéwalé.

“Best weigh anchor, I think the crew is itching to reach civilization,” The man answered.

“You’ll find no civilization in Nassau. But it’s a fine place to be merry all the same.”

*************

*************

As the Jackdaw slid to anchor off of Nassau’s northern beach, Cassandra noticed a peculiar scene on land. Two men, obviously pirates, stood near a British soldier.

“Go on, Captain Queernabs. Tell me I’m under arrest… Tell me!” One pirate, dressed all in black tormented the redcoat. They could be heard from the ship.

“Them your brethren?” Adéwalé asked.

“Fly away, boyo! Back to your master!” The other man joined in with the taunting.

“Aye,” Edward answered. “We was privateers together, before the wars ended.”

“That explains a lot,” Cassandra muttered, still loud enough for the men to hear.

“Come with me, Cassie. I’ll show you where you can buy your ‘blow-pipe’.” Edward turned to his new quartermaster. “Adéwalé, I’ll see you ashore.”

The assassins once again dove off the side and swam to shore. They could’ve taken a rowboat, but they were still working on building Cassandra’s tolerance to the saltwater. 

True to his word, Edward first showed Cassandra to the blacksmiths shop. She bought a pair of matched pistols and they continued on their way. Edward led her around the streets of Nassau, pointing out any notable landmarks, cautioning her of the crocodiles that lived in the nearby swamp. 

“So, what’s your story?” Edward asked, earning a single raised eyebrow from the young woman. “Oh, come lass. You know a fair bit about me, yet I know very little about you.”

“Well, there isn’t really that much to know about me,” Cassandra began. “I grew up on the outskirts of London. My parents worked for the Templars, but they weren’t part of the order. Things happened… my parents died, our house was destroyed… Instead of helping me, the Templars tried to kill me so they could take over my family’s business.” Edward frowned at her story. Who would willingly hurt an innocent woman in such a manner? “Lucky for me, I was found by the Assassins and they offered their help. I ended up abandoning my normal life and I began training with the Order.”

“And now here you are, sailing the high seas and trading with scoundrels like myself.” Edward smiled, trying to lighten her mood at least a little. Cassandra chuckled a bit.

“To think that only 5 years ago, I was just a normal merchant’s daughter. Who would believe I’d be running with pirates?”

The pair continued swapping stories until they found their way to the Old Avery Tavern. The two men from the beach were at the bar.

“By God, you’re a sight for salty eyes! Come you in and have a drink,” one man said.

“Morning, all,” Edward greeted. Adéwalé came up the stairs to join in.

“Ahoy, Kenway,” The man in black held out a mug of rum to the new captain. “Who’s this?”

“Adéwalé, the Jackdaw’s quartermaster. And this is Cassandra Quinn.”

“Jackdaw… you named your brig after a poxy bird?” The men started laughing.

“Adé, Cassie, these lads are the better part of our growing confederacy here. Ed Thatch,” he pointed to the man in black, “Ben Hornigold,” The other man from the beach, “James Kidd,” gesturing to a younger man at the bar.

“You let him carry a pistol, do ye?” Hornigold asked of Adéwalé.

“Peace, Ben. Adé saved my life.”

“And the girl?”

“She’s with me.” Kenway would say no more about her circumstances. “And now we’re looking for a crew to fill out the rest of my ship.”

“Well, there’s scores of capable men about,” Thatch said. “But use caution. A shipload of the King’s sailors showed up a fortnight back, causing trouble and knocking about like they own the place.”

“Right. We’ll see who we can muster. Cassie, with me?” Edward asked.

“Of course,” she grinned.

“Send any men you find to the Jackdaw. I’ll put them to work,” Adéwalé offered.

“Cheers Adé.” 

They left the tavern, Adé heading back to the ship while Edward and Cassandra prowled around the island. They helped what pirates they found, whether brawling with the soldiers or held at gunpoint. They even rescued a pirate about to be hanged. After freeing every pirate they could find, the pair went back to the tavern.

“Now you’ll want to sail somewhere rich with plunder,” Hornigold said.

“Have you heard of a place called the Observatory?” Kenway asked.

“Aye,” Kidd spoke up. “It’s an old legend. Like El Dorado, or the Fountain of Youth.”

“What have you heard?”

“It’s meant to be a temple or a tomb. Hiding a treasure of some kind.”

“That’s it! You see here,” Kenway gave the map he stole from Torres to Kidd.

“Ah, rot! It’s fairy stories you prefer to gold, is it?” Thatch teased.

“It’s worth more than gold, Thatch. Ten-thousand times above what we could pull off any Spanish ship,” Kenway defended.

“Robbing the king to pay his paupers is how we earn our keep here, lad,” Hornigold said. “That ain’t a fortune, it’s a fantasy.”

*************

*************

“Morning, Kenway, Miss Quinn,” Thatch greeted as the Assassins made their way to a small fire on the beach.

“Not a bad looking tinderbox you got there,” Hornigold noted.

“You sound a bit green. Is it envy? Because mine’s bigger than yours?” Edward teased. Cassandra snorted out a laugh at the jab.

“Nah, I reckon it’s this Jamaican funk.” The man emptied the tobacco from his pipe by hitting it against the side of the overturned rowboat he leaned against. “I prefer the Spanish stuff. So you’ve got yourself a fancy brig now. Fine.” Hornigold got up and started pacing around the new Captain. “Well I’m gonna teach you how to sail her right, and how to take a prize the proper way.”

“Prize?” Cassandra questioned.

“A ship,” Thatch explained. “Another vessel, its loot, and any men willing to take up the black flag. But to take a prize means cutting down any men brave or stupid enough to defend it so carelessly. Are you willing to be a part of such a dangerous business, lass?”

Cassandra smirked.

“Danger is my business, Captain Thatch.”

“Come on, Kenway. You’re not actually letting this skirt sail with you?” Hornigold asked.

“She fights better than most men on these seas. Besides, I don’t command her, she does as she chooses,” Kenway defended.

“... Thatch, we’ll catch you up at the old fishing village.” Hornigold dropped the matter.

“Aye.”

*******************

“Where’s your helmsman, Kenway?” Hornigold asked aboard the Jackdaw.

“I take pride in piloting my own ships, Ben. Keeps me alert.”

“Let’s make some headway, shall we?” Hornigold suggested. Kenway spurred the crew to full sail.

“I’ve no need for schooling,” Edward sassed. “How many prizes did we take together as privateers?”

“There’s a chasm of difference between joining a raid, and captaining one. We’re looking out for merchants, boys. Them that’s fat with cargo. Find us a schooner with that spyglass, Kenway. You’ll get yourself a glimpse of what sort of cargo they’re shipping, and a general idea of their toughness.”

Edward scanned the horizon with his spyglass, soon finding a Spanish ship.

“There’s a prize worth taking.”

“Good! Take us in close,” Hornigold continued his instructions. “After you subdue a prize, project authority and demand respect that you would never give yourself. This weaves a spell over soft minds. For your victims must always have in the back of their minds the uneasy idea that you could snap at any moment and unseam them from prick to sternum. Fire what cannons you will, and land a few strikes if you must. But for God's sake don't sink her. It's no fun fishing cargo out of the sea. Although it can be done.”

After a few passes around the ship, with a few rounds of cannon fire, smoke began to rise from the merchant vessel, curling upward through the tattered sails.

“She's disabled now and taking on a decent amount of water. So keep your cannons quiet, and take care not to sink her,” Hornigold instructed. “She's dead in the water. Steer up alongside her.”

They then boarded the schooner, subduing the Spanish crew.

“Good day to you sir!” Hornigold addressed the sailors. “I am Captain Hornigold and this is my crew. We're sailors like yourselves, but quite unalike in our purpose. For we intend to take all that you own. Yet no harm shall befall any man, so long as he remains at ease. Is that clear?”

“Don't kill me, sir! I have a family. Please!” One man pleaded in Spanish.

“Anyone speak English? Ingles?”

“Little bit,” another soldier admitted.

“Tell your friends we're stealing your goods. And we won't hurt nobody if everyone stays as still as a sandbar. You got that?” Hornigold sassed.

“Ah... uh... Please to repeat?” The man asked in broken English.

“Oh, for fuck's sake.” Ben rolled his eyes before turning back to the pirate crew. “Lock 'em in the hold, and take everything that isn't nailed down.”

It was then that one of the Spanish soldiers managed to gather what little courage he had left. He lunged for Cassandra as she stood nearest to him. The man figured that the single woman would be the easiest to subdue and use as a bargaining chip.

Unfortunately for him, the Novice Assassin refused to be manhandled, and she responded in turn. One quick spin on the ball of her foot had her elbow smashing into the side of his face. A jab to his exposed throat had him doubling over, and a knee to his forehead knocked the man unconscious. He lay sprawled on the deck and Cassandra looked around to see the rest of the pirates had all stopped and stared in awe.

“... Are we taking the cargo or not?” she asked, spurring the men back into action.

“Well then…” Edward turned to Hornigold. “Let’s get a move on.”

They returned to the Jackdaw after stripping the ship of their cargo. Edward, Ben, and Cass all lingered near the helm.

“It's a shaky feeling sailing around with this much stolen cargo,” Edward admitted.

“Get used to it. We'll need to take a few more prizes to make this a profitable day,” Hornigold dismissed.

They plundered another couple of ships before making for Salt Key Bank. 

“Not a bad take today. Keep this up and Nassau’ll be the first city where men and women may live as God made them: easy and free. All it takes is a few drops of blood, sweat and a swath of cloth,” Hornigold said as they made their way to where Thatch lingered on the dock next to the Jackdaw. A new black Jolly Roger flag waved proudly from the top mast.

“We fly no colours out here, but praise the lack of 'em. So let the black flag signal nothing but your allegiance to man's natural freedoms. This one's yours. Fly it proud.” Thatch clapped a hand on Edward’s shoulder.

“I will.”

“Hand over the docket I lent you. If we're to keep our republic afloat, we'll need guns as well as gold,” Hornigold remarked as he looked over the papers Thatch had given back to him.

“That means attacking the Navy,” Edward pointed out.

“So long as they're flying King Phillip’s colours, we'll not offend our own monarch,” Hornigold said as they left Thatch on the dock, and boarded the Jackdaw to go hunting once more. “As you've likely seen, the number of merchants roving these waters is three score the number of military ships.”

“Aye. Easy purchase, but in small doses.”

“Right. So to lure the Navy out of hiding, it's best to cause a bit of mischief.”

“Catch a few small fish to attract the big ones.”

“That's right. So plunder and pillage as you see fit, Captain Kenway.”

They spent the day attacking more ships, stealing all sorts of cloth, sugar and rum. And as they went, they picked up whatever men wanted to join up, and left behind whatever men surrendered. Edward and the Jackdaw slowly increased in notoriety, until the time came…

“Sail ho! Military-class brig on the horizon,” Adéwalé alerted.

“Good eye, man” Hornigold praised. “Are you ready for this, Kenway? For she won't go down without an honest fight.”

Under Edward’s confident guidance, the Jackdaw managed to incapacitate several brigs, subduing the crews and plundering what resources they needed to get some better guns and armor for the Jackdaw. Eventually, the Jackdaw made its way back to Salt Key, where a quick bribe to a local Warrant Officer erased their bad reputation.

“You're a wonder, Kenway. You've a knack for this kind of work,” Hornigold praised.

“It ain't work if you love it,” Edward said with a sly grin. “But I ain't doing this forever, lads. Only until I get enough coin to buy some land and influence back home.”

“Jaysus, will you listen to your tripe? Still dreaming on about that strumpet back in England, when you could have any Betty you wanted, here and now.” Hornigold continued, “Honestly, I thought that’s why you were keeping this lass around.” He gestured to Cassandra.

“Keep talking like that and I’ll give you a personal demonstration as to why Edward ‘keeps me around’,” Cassandra said with a flirty tone, but her hand was on her sword, slowly drawing it from its sheath.

“Ah, such lofty goals for you gents. And here I thought I was in the company of scoundrels.” Edward and Cassandra left Thatch and Hornigold behind to make their way to the helm. 

*****************

The Jackdaw rocked gently in the harbor, the night wind carrying the taste of salt. Most of the crew had already turned in, having eaten and drank their fill from the stolen goods taken from the nearby plantation. The deck was quiet save for the faint creak of wood and the steady sigh of the sea. Cassandra stood near the railing, hood drawn back, eyes fixed on the moonlit water.

Edward approached with the easy tread of a man who belonged nowhere and everywhere all at once. He carried a half-empty bottle, holding it in her direction.

“Rum?” he offered.

She glanced at him before accepting, taking a small sip before handing it back.

“You’ll run out if you keep sharing like that.”

“Aye, but it’s poor manners to drink alone,” he grinned.

For a while, they stood without speaking, the silence between them companionable.

“So… you have a woman waiting for you back home?” Cassandra finally asked.

“I used to. I left her there, intending on returning to her as a man of quality and standing. But she decided that she couldn’t wait for me.” Edward’s eyes turned downcast for just a second before his usual expression of mirth covered up the remaining sadness. 

Cassandra studied him, her expression unreadable.

“Do you regret it?”

He thought long and hard for a moment, then gave a small, lopsided smile.

“Every now and then. But regret doesn’t fill a man’s sails, does it?”

“No, I suppose it doesn’t,” she smiled back.

The quiet stretched again, for a beat. Softer this time, a shared understanding of two wanderers caught between past and present.

Then Edward’s tone shifted, playful again.

“What about you, Cassie? Is there a proper young lad waiting somewhere, pining after you?”

“If I had one, do you think I’d tell you?” Her brow arched.

“Depends,” he chucked. “You might, if you wanted to make me jealous.”

“Jealous? You’d have to care first.” She laughed, light and dry.

“Ah, but who says I don’t?”

Cassandra shook her head, turning away before he could see the small smile tugging at her lips or the blush that bloomed on her cheeks.

“Goodnight, Edward.”

“Sleep well, lass.” He grinned at her retreating form. “Dream of honest men, if you can find any.”

“That would be a very short dream,” her voice floated back over her shoulder.

Edward’s laugh echoed quietly across the deck, swallowed by the sea.