Assassin's Creed 1. Just a Kiss

**Just a kiss**

"Jaysus! These damnable sharks are getting bold! Ade! I should've gone out with the harpoons rather than waste my time with diving for worthless shite! Nearly lost my hand to one of em!" Captain Edward Kenway floats on the surface of the water and throws up a few cracked bottles, their contents spoiled beyond use or even recognition and their labels long since lost. The tall, muscular, dark skinned quartermaster catches each of them easily and only glances at them briefly before tossing them back into the turquoise depths they came from with a shrug. Edward doesn't even bother to follow their arcing path or observe the splashes of his troubles disappearing from sight. Instead, he watches as the heavy diving bell is lifted from the sea on its boom, sending a shower of sparkling seawater cascading down onto the surface of the ocean beside him.

"Perhaps you'll take my advice next time." The quartermaster's deep voice is heavily marked by a certain smug tone, though his words are innocuous enough.

"Yes, yes, chasing a fool's dream," Edward mutters as he climbs up the side of the _Jackdaw_ where it sits, anchored beside the salt and barnacle encrusted remains of the old wreck that had lodged itself into a jagged reef and yielded such pitiful and useless bounty. His crew is watching him expectantly when he reaches the top and Edward sighs, defeated. He needs something to lift his spirits and he's sure he can find it in the bottom of a rum bottle. The nearest port is Nassau, a few hours' sailing away.

"Make way to Nassau, lads! I need something stronger than our stock to help me sleep tonight!" A shout goes up from the crew as they are quick to follow his command. As Edward turns to walk toward his cabin, he catches sight of Adewale's disapproving expression and crossed arms. He pauses and shouts up at him.

"You surely take your post too seriously, Ade! Our life isn't one of rote or responsibility! We're free men, so we should live as such! You might try it some time." Adewale's rumbling voice follows him through the doors of his cabin.

"And you might try being sober, Captain." Edward slams his door behind him in response.

The tavern called _La Sombra_ is the first place Edward comes to upon beaching and securing his dinghy and it seems as likely a spot as ever despite its rather unimposing appearance. The place sits close to the beach and it resembles some of the residences scattered on this side of the island with their faded wood sides, stilts and grass roofs. His motley bunch of sailors had insisted on going to the more popular side of Nassau so Edward had ventured off by himself, still irritated at his fruitless morning. His thirst is strong after such a wasted endeavor so he shoulders the swinging door open and marches over to a pretty young woman standing behind the counter. At least he'll have a nice view, even if the rum selection is wanting.

The woman's thick, shining hair is twisted and pinned up in a careless way, with most of it hanging to the right side of her face. A few tendrils drape down her lovely neck, drawing Edward's attention to the delicate, swan-like perfection of its sensual beauty and dragging his eyes from her darkly shaded eyes and full, red lips, over her finely curving collarbones and finally down to her more than satisfyingly ample breasts. She wears a tightly fitting dark brocade underbust corset and a loose, white top that hangs from her shoulders and is secured in place by a leather strap that loops around her arms and crosses in back. Down Edward's eyes travel, caressing her lithe figure with pleasure and settling on the tantalizing exposed skin of her narrow waist, marred by a rather jarring, angled scar. It lends an interesting juxtaposition to her beauty. Her curving hips are swathed in a rich red scarf and Edward wishes she weren't standing behind the bar so he could see the rest of her magnificent body.

When his eyes return to her face she's watching him expectantly. Edward nearly starts and wonders how long she had been observing him observing her. Her lips are curved into a knowing smirk. Long enough, it seems.

"Hello there, my lovely. I came looking for a drink but I might ask for you instead." Her enticing lips press together and she narrows her striking blue eyes at him.

"Hmm. I'm charmed." Her voice is rich and soft, a slightly lower pitch than some women but all the more attractive for it.

"Come on, love, I've got enough coin to buy the place but all I want is you." The woman's eyes open wide and her lips part in a most inviting way.

"That much! What wealthy man is this before me who wishes t' buy the building and me with it?" She sweeps her hand across the air in front of her body, gesturing toward where he stands jauntily on the other side of the wooden counter and tilting her head slightly down and to the right to show off the alluring beauty marks beneath her left eye. Edward tucks his thumbs behind his swords and throws his shoulders back proudly.

"My men call me Captain Kenway, but such a lovely lass as you can call me Edward." As he finishes his statement, he leans one arm on the counter top casually and crooks a finger at her. She gives him a twisted, long-suffering smirk and her eyes sparkle in the half light of the place. She leans over the scratched and worn counter, offering him a splendid view of her cleavage, and pinches the lapel of his brown jacket between the slender thumb and forefinger of her left hand. Her eyes travel over his attire, resting on his various weapons and scrutinizing him carefully before moving back up to his face.

"A Captain, hmm? I find that hard t' believe with what a disheveled mess yer presentin' here." As quick as a slashing knife, she clenches her fist in Edward's jacket and drags him closer. Her face is beside his head and he just barely feels the creamy smoothness of her neck against his cheek as she breathes in deeply through her nose. Edward takes a whiff of her in return, inhaling the sultry, subtly spicy perfection of her bare shoulder and the inviting dip of her collar bone. He lowers his lips to her soft skin only to be roughly pushed backwards before he can experience nearly enough of that intoxicating flesh. He barely stops himself from stumbling back a step from the force of her surprisingly strong arm. Edward looks up at her in shock at her where she stands with her left hand resting on her hip and the fingers of her right sliding daintily over the pistol tucked into the front of her wide leather belt . Her pretty face carries an expression of utter disgust.

"Ya' stink like a lyin' rogue. Get outta' my tavern."

"Your… Your tavern?"

"Yes, my tavern." The woman enunciates her words clearly, as if he's a deaf idiot and then turns her back to him, effectively ending her side of the conversation.

"Fine, my lady… tavern owner… I beg your forgiveness. I'll take that drink instead." Edward raises his palms up toward her in a placating gesture and she eyes him over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. She rests her hands on her hips and turns slightly back.

"What'll ya have, then?"

"Rum, of course. Your best." Edward slides a gold coin across the counter and keeps his finger pressed on it. She slaps a cup down on the counter and trains her eyes on him as she reaches beneath the bar and takes out a bottle. She uncorks it and pours, only taking her azure eyes off of him for a moment to ensure not a drop too much fills the glass.

"That's a bit of a light pour, if I may be so bold." The woman slides her fingers lightly over the neck of the bottle on the counter and a small smile plays on the corners her mouth. Her chin is tipped up slightly and she smugly looks down her nose at Edward.

"Ya' may not. Take it or leave it, rogue. But fer my enduring of yer insufferable presence, I'll keep the change." With a deft move, she leans closer to Edward, snatches up the coin from beneath his finger and deposits it slowly into her cleavage with a smirk of self satisfied delight at his surprised expression.

"You're an audacious one." Edward mutters.

"I've been called worse." She saunters away with a sway of her hips, taking the bottle with her and leaving Edward with a distinct desire to tame such a fetching and magnificent woman. She clearly knows her way around the types who inhabit Nassau, and doesn't seem fazed by what being such a beautiful creature brings out in men.

Edward watches her make her way down the bar, filling drinks and sharing banter with some of the luckier patrons. She smiles and laughs at their senseless antics but never fails to get her gold. With a shrewd eye and a keen awareness of her surroundings, she seems to hear whispers of underhanded behavior before they happen. One man stealthily reaches across the bar behind her back for a bottle seemingly left forgotten on the surface. Without blinking an eye, spilling a drop from the bottle she is pouring or breaking off the conversation she's having with the man before her, she reaches into her corset and whips out a small, thin knife that she spins elegantly in her hand before slamming it into the surface of the bar between the thief's fingers. He pulls his arm back with a hiss, examining his undamaged hand with shock and embarrassment, accompanied by laughter from those who witnessed the event. All the woman has to do is turn her head to meet his eyes with a fiery glare and a tilt of her head to make him go out the door in a flash. That glare is turned on Edward momentarily as she pulls the blade free from the counter and makes it disappear.

Edward runs his fingers over the scarred and pitted wooden bar top and wonders if all of the marks in it are from her sharp little blade and overzealous men. His drink is empty and it is some time before she returns to him, silently offering him more rum with one hand leaning on the counter and the other holding up the bottle. Edward taps his cup and she pours him a second serving with an equally scanty exactness as the first. He frowns at it but then moves his hand over to run his finger over the back of her wrist. Perhaps she needs some encouragement to be more generous. She snatches her hand away with a softly spoken warning.

"Unless yer a complete fool _and_ blind, you'll not do that again. I'm capable a' more than idle threats." Edward leans back and grins at her as he holds out a coin in payment for the drink.

"I imagine you are…" She reaches for it but he moves it beyond her grasp.

"Have it yer way." Her hand falls on Edward's cup and she takes it off the bar.

"Oy! Fine! Just give me back my drink!" The woman waits for him to relinquish his coin before returning his cup, sloshing some of its contents over the rim intentionally. Edward hisses at the loss of his precious alcohol so ungenerously given.

"Listen, I'm sorry, alright? Can I at least give you a kiss to make up for my brutish ways?" She snorts and starts to walk away. Desperate to get her back, Edward gulps down his drink and holds up his cup.

"I'm not done drinking yet."

"I have other customers." She pours him a slightly larger cup full, takes his coin and then leaves him, unmoved by his protestations.

The night wears on and she continues to snub him yet he persists in entreating her to let him at least have a kiss. Near midnight, Adewale finds him and takes a seat beside him. Edward is drunk enough by then to reach across the counter and slap the tavern owner's backside when she comes over to see what her newest customer wants. The contact of his palm on her firm, round derriere makes a satisfying sound and Edward watches her spin to face him with a disappointingly calm expression on her face. The regulars go silent. She pulls out her silver tooled flintlock from her belt, jumps up to sit on her hip on the counter, grabs his collar and presses the muzzle to his mouth. Edward turns his head away and she digs the cold metal into the soft skin of his neck just under his chin.

"Do you really want a kiss from me?" Edward raises his hand up to pull the gun down and she squeezes the trigger slightly. He freezes in place and glances between Adewale and her.

"Do you? No? Not anymore? Good." Just as quickly as she had neutralized him, she hops down and tucks away her weapon. Folding her arms under her breasts, she waits for his reaction. Edward stands and staggers slightly from both the shock of such a sudden brush with his own demise and the liquor in his system. Adewale stands as well and pushes on his shoulder to guide him towards the door. Edward moves compliantly enough, dumbfounded, entranced by the woman who so easily could have taken his life, completely smitten by her beauty and confidence. Then someone starts laughing at him.

"Ya see that, boys? He ain't got nothin' in his pants but a twat, there!" Edward casts about for the source of the voice and takes hold of the handles of his twin cutlasses.

"Oh I've got a bigger cock than all of you!"

"Tha's enough, Captain." Adewale rumbles, taking a handful of Edward's jacket and hauling him further toward the door. Edward draws his swords simultaneously and spins them about.

"Come on then! Who wants a dustup?"

"Not you!" Adewale insists, using one final shove to push Edward outside. He pins him up against the side of the building and Edward lets his hands drop down by his sides and the tips of his swords dig into the sand drifted up against the weathered boards.

"Ade, why can't you just let a man have some fun?"

"She almost shot you! We're going back to the ship." Edward clumsily sheathes his swords.

"She's magnificent…"

"She's trouble."

"Mag… magsiffinlent…" They stumble back to the dinghy and Adewale drops Edward unceremoniously into it to begin paddling back to the _Jackdaw_.

In the morning, Edward is at the helm. They sail out of Nassau on the early breezes. Adewale is his usual quiet self in between bellowing orders at the crew. Edward looks at his quarter master.

"Ade…"

"What Captain?"

"What do you think her name is?"

"Who?"

"That beautiful woman at the tavern?" Adewale crosses his massive, scarred arms over his chest and turns to look incredulously at Edward.

"You must be jesting, Captain. She nearly killed you and you want to know her name? How about Heartache? A pretty lady like her who knows her way around weapons that well? Nothin' but heartache and trouble. Stay away from that one."

"Jaysus, Ade, you act like a woman with a weapon is something we've never seen before! I don't see you running from Bonny!"

"She doesn't point her weapons at me."

"And that's what makes this one different, my friend. There's more to her… something special. Something I want to know more about. What drives her to be so contrary, so… interesting?" His voice trails off as he stares out into the open sea before them.

"I assure you, Captain, it's better you just don' know. If you dig where you ought not to and get yourself killed by that woman, as beautiful as she is, I am taking the _Jackdaw_ and all the crew on it as my own." Edward scowls at his quartermaster and drops the subject.


	2. Liquid Gold in a Bottle

**Liquid Gold in a Bottle**

The sun is blazing down on the _Jackdaw_ as the crew ties her up at Nassau. The docks are a hive of activity and Edward stands at the railing watching it with Adewale by his side. Adewale sighs with concern at his Captain's harebrained idea.

"There are other places you can sell here."

"She said it was her best but it was piss in a cup. I've got a good supply of some of the best rum I've tasted and I know she won't say no to such an offer. She can't refuse." He pats the bag slung over his shoulder with one of the bottles stowed safely inside.

"Captain, she can refuse. And I don't imagine she'll be happy to see you again."

"Oh, come on, Ade! It's been a month! She's probably forgotten all about me. My hold is overflowing with rum and I need a place to unload it. How about this: if she refuses, I'll sell it some place else and split the profits with you, even."

"If I'm not draggin' you out of there with an extra hole in your head..." The ramp is set in place and Edward doesn't acknowledge his quartermaster's concerns beyond rolling his eyes in their sockets.

"Let's go see if we can't get ourselves killed, then." He jauntily sets off down the ramp and Adewale follows at a safe enough distance so his captain won't hear the curses he's mumbling at his foolishness. How the man hasn't come to be murdered a dozen times over is beyond him.

The very moment Edward enters the tavern, the woman who owns the place notices him. She's just as beautiful as he remembers her. God, what wouldn't he give to feel her in his hands… Their eyes fall upon each other across the somewhat empty space and instantly he senses malice from her but if he plays his cards correctly, perhaps he can turn that into interest.

"Ya' still want that kiss, ya' disgustin' rogue?" She calls out, suggestively caressing the handle of the flintlock tucked into the front of her belt and smirking at him. Edward frowns before he can stop himself. Disgusting? Adewale enters behind Edward, and she laughs. The sultry, gravelly sound is enchanting.

"Did ya' bring yer hired man to keep ya' in line this time?" The two men approach the bar and the dark haired woman leans her hip against the other side. Edward gestures toward his quartermaster briefly, keeping his eyes on the lovely sight before him as he lowers his bag down to the floor between his feet.

"This is Adewale, my quartermaster. He's just here for business and a drink, the same as me."

"Oh? There're plenty a' other taverns in this place but ya' had to come back to the one where ya' had a pistol fer dessert, hm?"

"Maybe I like a bit of mischief with my drink. Isn't that right, eh, Ade?" Edward elbows his quartermaster with a grin but Adewale just scowls at him. Edward's favorite tavern owner smiles up at Adewale.

"Looks like the big man's the one with sense… not you. Rum, then?" Edward nods, ignoring her barb.

"Aye," he says confidently. She sets two cups down on the counter and fills them both. When Adewale reaches for his, the woman rests her elbows on the bar, exposing an impressive amount of cleavage, and places her small, fair hand over his huge dark one where he grips his cup. She slowly traces a scar on his thumb with her fingertip. Edward freezes in mid-sip and watches her shamelessly flirting with his quartermaster. She smiles knowingly as Adewale's eyes move over her beauty rapidly and seem to be pulled to her breasts over and over again. Finally, he settles his gaze somewhere behind her head.

"Now, miss…" Adewale says quietly. With another bewitching smile and a tightening of her fingers on his wrist, the woman shushes him, tilting her head toward Edward briefly as she speaks.

"Yer happy with this lout as yer commander? I've seen a dark man or two become captains. Ya' have the look of a leader in yer eyes." Her own blue irises sparkle darkly as she watches him from under her lashes.

"Aye, dat may be true, but so far I've been content with my duties as quartermaster."

"Oh." She smiles and strokes her finger in slow circles over Adewale's hand. Edward slams his cup down.

"I'll be having another, if you can take your pretty claws off my man!" The tavern owner stands upright, turning her body and sliding her hand slowly off of Adewale's without breaking eye contact with him. Only when Adewale raises his arm to drink does she turn her attention to Edward where he's impatiently gripping his cup. His lips are pressed tightly together and he has to consciously relax his shoulders at her obvious baiting of his ire. The infuriating woman raises an eyebrow at him and her lovely lips curve upward into a deadly smile.

"Jealous?" She pours Edward another drink and he tosses it back, gesturing for more. After she refills his cup, she steps back and raises her chin.

"So, Rogue. What's this ya' were sayin' 'bout business?" Her hand rests idly around the neck of the rum bottle but she moves her fingertip around the mouth of it. Edward tears his eyes away from her hand, tamping down his illicit imaginings of something else she could be caressing in a similar fashion.

"I can sell you what you need for this place. Keep your stock of rum up, and of a better quality than this, I might add."

"What makes ya' think I'm interested?"

"Is this your best?" Edward raises his newly filled drink toward her and tilts it from side to side until it nearly sloshes out.

"It is."

"Then you're interested."

"Not so fast. What're ya askin' for it? How much ya got?"

"I've got a nearly endless supply. Right now, my hold has twenty eight crates of it. As for how much… why don't you taste it first?" He lifts up his bag from the floor and pulls the bottle out of it. The woman snatches it from his hands and Edward downs his remaining rum, watching her reaction as she looks at the bottle in her hand. Her eyebrows move together and she appears angry.

"Where'd ya' get this?"

"That's none of your concern. I've got it so that's all you need to know."

"I need t' know that I'll have a steady supply a' it. If this is some kinda joke…"

"You'll have it. I have my ways and I'll sell it to you first. I know I can find others who will buy it if you don't. Wouldn't you want to have the best rum on the island?"

"This is private stock. I could be hanged fer sellin' it if the Spaniards find out."

"The men I got it from will tell no tales, I can assure you of that." The woman eyes him carefully and sets the bottle down on the counter.

"I'm not takin' plunder."

"Now listen here…" The woman forestalls him by slapping her palm down between them.

"No! Ya' listen to me! My father tried to sell plundered goods in this tavern fer years. He got himself into debt with the wrong men, buyin' their pillaged wares n' such. He tried t' sell me t' get out of it. I was sixteen years old and no doubt would have been raped t' death by those types. Fortunately fer me, he got himself killed by their collectors before he could sell me t' them. I've worked too hard to bring this place back from the gallows t' fall into the same traps he did. Ya' can take yer filthy wares and go." Edward fears he's lost already. Her eyes spark angrily and it's clear that she will fight to the death to keep this place as her own. She appears to be in her twenties, so if she had spent more than five years getting it running on her own… Edward considers a point that would seem to be a hole in her story.

"How did you pay off the debt your father had created?"

"I killed the men who held it." Edward laughs a little too loudly. She's good at threats but she's no fighter.

"Ya' don' believe me? I may not have won them in a battle a' strength but a woman's got her ways. Some well made plans, a reliable friend, a bit a' good luck and good timing made me a free woman and the owner of a beaten up, profitless tavern. I've made some mistakes along the way but I like what I have. And I plan t' keep it. So bugger off." Adewale speaks up.

"Captain, she's made her choice." Edward holds up his hand to stop him.

"But I haven't finished making my point." Before he can continue, the woman forestalls him.

"Keep in mind yer not the first man to come swaggerin' in here with his cock hangin' out wantin' to strike some kinda arrangement with me. They all want the same thing as part a' their 'deal' and just like them, _ya ain't gettin it_." She brashly cups her breasts in her hands and lifts them slightly, amplifying the roundness of her cleavage before letting them fall back to their places. Edward's mouth falls open.

"Yer an open book, C_aptain,_ and yer just like the rest a' them." The contempt in her voice is sharp and cutting. Edward composes himself and holds up his hand with his palm facing her.

"All right, lass. I admit I was less than gentlemanly the last time I was here. But the God's honest truth is that I have a hold full of rum that yes, I plundered from some galleons, and I need to offload it. I can sell it to you or I can sell it to someone else with less fuss. And I give you my word as a man, as a Captain, as a fuckin' pirate if you please… that if anyone comes knocking looking for the source, you tell them it was Captain Edward Kenway of the _Jackdaw_ who procured it. I'll take on anyone who wants to know and I'll sink them just the same as any other uppity shite who gets in my way."

"Those are big words, comin' from a trumped up dandy like you." To Edward's surprise, her tone is more of intrigued curiosity, though from her facial expression, no one would believe it. Just in case his analysis is wrong, he extends his hidden blade, slices off the twine wrapping over the top of the bottle and pulls the cork out with his teeth. He pours some of the rum into his empty cup and extends it to the woman. She takes it from him and raises it to her nose to smell it. Taking a sip, she rolls the golden rum around on her tongue before swallowing it. She closes her eyes and breathes out the fiery fumes of the alcohol through her nose.

When she opens her eyes, she fixes Edward with their deep blue depths.

"How much?"

"For each crate?"

"Fer the entire hold's worth."

"Fifteen thousand Reales."

"I'll give ya' a third a' that."

"This is liquid gold in a bottle, woman! Ten thousand."

"Seven."

"Eight."

"Seven. The door is behind ya." Edward scowls at her persistence but she glares at him and her fingers grip the counter top so hard they're whitened at the tips.

"Seven. And any time I'm in port I drink for free." The woman's full lips press together and then she produces the small knife from her corset. Edward wonders if she plans on attempting to kill him. Adewale stiffens beside him and his hand moves toward the huge machete on his hip. With a quick slash, she opens the skin of her right palm and holds out her bloody hand toward Edward.

"Blood fer blood. Ya fuck with me, I'll send all the world's trouble straight fer yer toy boat, God help ya'!" Impressed by her actions, Edward uses his left hidden blade to slice open his own hand and take her handshake. Her grip is firm and she looks him right in the eye. Her hand tightens on his and she turns his wrist so his hidden blade is exposed, reflecting the light coming in through the opened shutters of the tavern.

"I'm glad we've come to an agreement. Perhaps now there can be less hostility between us." Edward offers.

"Don' count on it. But I trust yer word because a' this more than anythin' else." Edward follows her gaze down to the hidden blade on his arm.

"Oh?" Edward's eyebrows raise upwards in surprise but before he can ask what she knows about such things, she speaks again.

"I expect t' see every crate here by noon tomorrow. Only when I have all a' them in my stock will ya' get yer money." Edward nods and she releases his hand. Their mingled blood spills onto the surface of the bar and she leaves it there to congeal without sparing a backward glance for him. Edward and Adewale exchange a long stare.

"A blood pact is a strong thing, Captain."

"I know, Ade. I don't intend to break it." He pours them each a serving of the rum from the bottle he brought, feeling more of his blood run down his wrist and under his bracer when he raises his cup.

The afternoon wears onward yet Edward tarries at the counter with Adewale. With no way to collect any revenue from him drinking his own liquor, he has effectively taken away any need for his lovely business partner to speak with him. She lingers near the opposite side of the long wooden bartop and studiously ignores his presence, choosing instead to lavish her coveted attention upon an enthusiastic drunk who's generous with his coin and his compliments to her.

To Edward's dismay, she returns his pathetic flirtations rather convincingly. Perhaps… too convincingly. She even spares Edward one sidelong glance as the man kisses her hand. As if that wasn't bad enough, she allows the sot to keep his filthy fingers on her hand and wrist and to continue kissing her knuckles from time to time.

"Jaysus, Ade, he's slobberin' like a fuckin' dog all over her! And I can't even get close enough to talk to her without having something to sell!" When the man openly gawks at her cleavage and kisses her hand yet again while her attention is diverted conversing with someone else, Edward has had enough. He stands abruptly, knocking his seat aside. Before Adewale can even voice a word of caution, Edward is shouting. He points a finger at the drunk seated several paces from him.

"Oy! You! Get yer' pissin' lips off her, ya slimy shite, before I cut them off!" Adewale can do nothing more than grab the back of Edward's jacket as he attempts to approach the offending man. Edward reels around and glares at his quartermaster.

"Let it go, Captain!" he hisses, but Edward's hands are in tight fists by his sides and his stance is all angry determination. Adewale releases his grip when he sees the stormy expression on his face. It isn't the first time Edward's gotten himself into a brawl and it certainly won't be the last. In the moments Edward had spared to address Adewale, the man's expression had changed from surprise to swaggering mockery.

"Second thoughts? Maybe ya ain' as hard for her as ya' thought!" He gyrates his hips in an exaggerated fashion to emphasize the insult. Edward hurls himself at the man, swinging as he moves, and lands a punch on the side of his face that sends him reeling. The two men go down on the floor and the tavern erupts in cheers and jeers for both sides. Within minutes, both men are bloodied and several other hot headed patrons have joined in just for fun. Adewale watches silently from the side with his arms crossed over his chest as tables are smashed into, bottles and cups are upset onto the floor to shatter and wooden dowels and splinters from broken chairs make for hazardous footing. Only when Edward is nearly overwhelmed by several men at once does Adewale reluctantly join in the fray. He knocks men aside and puts his efforts into protecting his inebriated captain from death.

No amount of shouting or thrown items on the bar owner's part can penetrate the red haze of the combatants. She reaches beneath the counter and snatches an ornate cutlass, makes a surprisingly agile vault over the top of her bar and begins swinging amid the scuffle. The sharp sounds of the flat of her blade smacking into flesh and the howls and outcry from the men so punished begin to overtake the clamor. One by one she breaks up the fight and sends every man involved out her door with reddened welts on arms, necks or other sensitive places. If the threat of a beating isn't enough to quell any particularly arrogant or drunk man, he receives a knock on the head hard enough to make him rethink his actions or fall unconscious.

At last, she approaches Edward, where he laughs on the floor with a bloodied nose and befuddled wits from drink. Adewale steps closer and she presses her blade point against his chest with a shake of her pretty head. Her eyes positively glow with righteous indignation and Adewale steps back from her fiery blue rage, certain she'll administer the same treatment to him as she had already so thoroughly doled out to at least a dozen others. Turning her attention to Edward, she speaks quietly.

"Get up! And get out!" Edward continues to laugh like a fool until she whacks his thigh with her blade, causing him to swear loudly and reach for his leg. He misses it and his hands hit the floor and his stomach instead.

"I said get _up_!" she barks out, punctuating her words with another whack to his leg. Edward rolls on his side and Adewale takes him by his shoulders to haul him the rest of the way to his feet. They're only a step into their retreat when Edward wipes his mouth and looks blearily over his shoulder at the angry bar owner where she stands with her feet widely spaced and her sword out at an angle from her body.

"I'd a thought you'd appreciate a man defending your honor, love." His words slur together and more blood drips down his chin from his nose and mouth. The woman's eyes widen and she crosses the distance between them more quickly than Adewale can drag Edward towards the door. Twisting her body, she raises her arm and delivers a series of blows to Edward's back, buttocks and legs that gets him moving faster out of her tavern. Adewale can't help but laugh as she adeptly bypasses his supporting arm, leaving it unscathed while Edward shouts in pain.

Standing at the door, she points her blade and shouts after him.

"You'll get no quarter from me! Nothin's changed between us. Don't ya' _dare _come back til ya' got what ya' promised!"

The morning brings Edward only sore muscles and stinging bruises in addition to his hangover. A deal is a deal, though, and money's money so Edward rolls out of bed, dons the pants he wears to dive in because they allow him the most comfort when he needs to move about, foregoes a shirt and rouses more of his men to join him in the cargo hold.

"I've just sold the lot of this rum to a very discriminating tavern owner. Today, we'll be unloading it all and delivering it." A collective groan is softly uttered from the gathered men.

"I'll hear none of your grumbling, men. It means money in your pockets to do with as you please but you'll get naught if you laze about." Edward joins them in lifting the heavy crates. He's half way down the ramp to the docks when James Kidd catches his eye. He's leaning against a piling on the docks with his arms crossed over his chest watching the procession with smug disbelief.

"You're doin' some actual work, Kenway?" he drawls, his wry grin twisting up into a full smile. It fades when Edward reaches into the crate on his shoulder, takes out a bottle of rum and tosses it at him. The boy catches it easily and whistles when he looks at the label.

"Starting early on the good stuff? You usually like to get piss drunk on the cheapest swill you can find."

"I've turned over a new leaf, Kidd. I'm in honest business now." Kidd laughs.

"That'll be the day!"

"Why don't you tag along and see, then?" Kidd does follow, and he grows suspiciously quiet as they near the tavern. Once inside, he starts to laugh and uncorks the bottle in his hand to take a swig. Edward looks sharply at him.

"You just cost me, Kidd!" Kidd wipes his mouth with his sleeve and tilts his head toward where the woman behind the counter is standing with her hands on her hips and a furrow in her pretty brow.

"Of all people to work for, you picked her?" Edward looks between them.

"Wot, you two know each other? You friends or something?"

"After a fashion, yes." Kidd says, still laughing.

"Care to elaborate?" Edward frowns as his friend and business partner exchange a glance. He hopes they haven't been intimately involved with each other, or worse yet, are currently involved in a relationship. It could explain her unwillingness to reciprocate his interest but Edward has a hard time believing she would prefer such a scrawny boy to him. His thoughts are cut off when the tavern owner answers.

"No. It's unimportant how our paths crossed. What is important is all that rum goin' in ta my cellar. The door's over there." She points to the far side of the bar and Edward scowls as Kidd settles himself on a seat near the distractingly fetching woman and joins her in watching with disconcerting interest as he carries his crate to the stairs and out of sight. He laments ever bringing that infernal Kidd along, yet how was he supposed to know they have some kind of shady history together?

The cellar is cool and dark. The tavern is built next to a tall dune on the beach and he would bet the _Jackdaw_ that part of the structure is within the dune. After placing the crate down next to a closed wooden door unexpectedly located beneath the bar and most likely leading to the area that would most assuredly be enclosed on three sides by sand, Edward trudges back up the stairs. Kidd is leaning on the counter and the tavern owner barely looks at him as he walks toward them. A steady stream of sailors is already carrying in the rest of the crates.

"Come on, Kidd."

"Aw, we were just having quite the interesting conversation about you!"

"Indeed?" Edward huffs. He positively quivers in jealous anger as the very woman he desperately wishes to take to his bed reaches her fingers to Kidd's almost childlike smooth-skinned jaw and kisses him on the mouth right in front of him. Edward stalks away, kicks the door open and leaves, followed by the enchanting sound of sultry laughter.

Kidd catches up to him when he's nearly back to the docks.

"You didn't even take your payment. Here. Seven thousand Reales. It's more than I've ever held at once." Edward takes the bag without a word and clenches it in his fist.

"What's got your breeches so up your arse? You're usually slightly less ornery than this." Kidd picks up a smooth stone and tosses it towards the sea.

"You seem to think it's funny to goad me, boy?"

"About what? Adriana? You like her!" Kidd laughs. Edward stops walking and spins to face Kidd. He's grinning from ear to ear and he shifts his weight onto his left leg and crosses his arms over his chest again.

"Adriana? That's her name?" Edward knows he must look the fool for he certainly sounds like one. Kidd sees his opening and takes it, as usual.

"You didn't even know her name, man? You've got to be foolin with me!" Edward begins walking back toward the docks.

"She isn't exactly the most welcoming woman in Nassau. I think I'm lucky she even speaks to me."

"You are. But if you think she's as easily won over as that, you're a bigger lout than I thought."

"And you've the secret to 'winning her over,' it seems. Are you sharing a bed with her?" Kidd laughs and Edward looks over his shoulder only to see him doubled over with his hands on his knees. Edward doesn't know what to make of it so he keeps walking. It would seem everyone has better luck with her… Adriana… than he does.


	3. Predator and Prey

**Predator and Prey, or is it the other way 'round?**

Edward tips the bottle up to his lips and is startled when nothing reaches his tongue. He squints at the empty bottle and holds it upside down before his face, only to see one miniscule drop fall to the wooden planks of the _Jackdaw_'s Captain's cabin. With a grunt of disgust, he tosses the bottle to the side where it rolls over and clinks against the other one he discarded only an hour before. As he struggles drunkenly up from his chair to his feet and lumbers toward his door, he ponders why the _Jackdaw_ is rolling so crazily on the seas. _Doesn't Ade know how to sail this thing without me at the helm?_

Bursting through the door, he encounters the brightest moon he has ever seen and he shields his eyes with an upraised hand and a guttural curse. His tripping steps carry him to the rail. Expecting to see high seas and frothy waves cresting up the sides of his ship, he is pulled up short to find the _Jackdaw_ anchored at the familiar port of Nassau and a skeleton crew manning the watches. Edward shakes his head in confusion and attempts to clear the blurriness from his eyes. The motion causes his body to sway dizzily and he grips the railing as the horizon tilts and spins. The last thing he remembers before hitting the deck is Adewale's low laugh filtering through the balmy night air from behind him.

Edward wakes in his bed, no doubt dragged there unceremoniously by his sailing men, based on half remembered experiences of previous adventures when overdrinking. His head aches and he raises his hands up to rub his face. Only a few days prior, he felt like his whole world was turning upside down. He doesn't even know his own men! Are there any other men who are women in his crew or is he lucky enough to have the only one sharing his company? How long has Mary Read been prancing around, posing as James Kidd? Years, perhaps, for all he knows! Anger rises in Edward's chest, yet not as powerful as he would expect for broken trust such as that. Perhaps rehashing the rather embarrassing revelation so many times over had finally dimmed its intensity.

"It's a man's world on the sea, and if ya' want a piece of it, ya' better not be afraid to do what it takes to get there. I'm no whore, whether I'm boy or girl, and I knew there were better ways to get what I wanted on me own terms. Anyone who thinks otherwise won't live long enough to tell me secrets," Mary had said with a flash of her blade when they had had a chance to talk after cleaning out that plantation's warehouse; she was right. Edward's anger dissolves into a wry smile and a cynical snort. Serves him fair anyway for allowing her playacting to get under his skin. No one else had successfully roused his hackles so thoroughly, time and again, with sharp wit, stinging rebukes and outright dismissal. She is a master at arms and yet is capable of slaying her opposition without once drawing a blade. An aggravating genius, to be sure, with a bigger sword than any true man Edward had yet to encounter.

At least he has Mary to thank for finally learning a little more about the woman who had managed to completely ensnare his mind with little more than a look of unbreachable disdain. Mary had revealed her own role in teaching Adriana how to effectively wield weapons and best almost anyone, no matter their size. With the help of only one other Assassin friend of Mary's, an older Assassin with a years of combat experience named Ibrahim, Adriana's schooling had encompassed a blistering two years of nightly practice and daytime charade. Adriana bided her time and soaked up as much knowledge of fighting and stealth as she could, forcing herself to appear weak and afraid as she worked the failing tavern within the sight of the dangerous men that had been set to watch her, even as her confidence grew and her moment of reckoning drew closer. Mary had constantly reminded her that she didn't need to be stronger than her opponent – just better. If Adriana became too overconfident, Mary always cut her down to her place with a gentle reminder that she wasn't as good as she thought she was. Mary said Adriana bore several scars from her gentle reminders. Perhaps the rather large one on her hip is one of them. It is no wonder she hadn't taken well to Edward's actions in what he thought was defense of her. Adriana can hold her own more than she lets on, it seems.

As it had turned out, her victory had come sooner than Adriana had planned on and at a high cost. After barely avoiding her father's murderer and former bill collector by paying every bit of money she could to them while she trained for vengeance, the man had finally decided he would have Adriana as payment after all. None of Mary's spies had forseen him suddenly making an appearance in Nassau, so both of them had been unprepared for his arrival at the tavern on a windy evening on the brink of a hurricane. The unfortunate beach location of the tavern and the howling winds had made her abduction easy for him. He had dragged her, kicking and screaming, out of the tavern and across the sand to his dinghy. No one heard her over the pouring rain, whistling gales through the palms and the sand being battered against the shuttered windows of the closest buildings.

Fortunately for her, Mary and Ibrahim had been just downstairs and had raced through the storm to take a roundabout path to the ocean. Careless of their flintlocks, they had both leapt into the high waves and swum to the galleon anchored in the deep coral cove close to shore.

Adriana, under the rough, wandering hands and sickening promises murmured by her captor, endured the trip to the galleon knowing that her chance, while slim, needed to be taken while she still had her hands free. She also had faith in her close friends. They had discussed the very same scenario that she was enduring at that moment and knew Mary and Ibrahim would come through. True to their promises to each other, as Adriana was eagerly hoisted up to the deck of the galleon by her debtor's men, she caught sight of Mary scaling the rigging on the far side of the ship. Ibrahim was nowhere in sight but she was confident he wouldn't leave them unassisted.

The rain beat down on everyone on board and the wind mercilessly buffeted the ship, making it roll deeply on the seas. A sailor held her arms behind her and another produced some rope.

"Shud we tie 'er t' th' deck, Cap'n? Nice 'n pretty fer us all t' 'ave a bit o' fun wit 'er?" Adriana stood tall and fought her instinct to struggle.

"No! I'll go willingly with th' captain. He's who I owe, not the mess a' ya!" her voice had carried more scorn than she had intended but her heart was pounding out of her chest with fear and anxiety. The sailor with the rope laughed in her face and gyrated his hips.

"Oi, we'll 'ave ya', lassie, we will. One way er 'nother…" The captain silenced them with his raised hand.

"Enough." He held out his hand toward Adriana and as soon as her arms were released, she had reached out and taken his hand, allowing him to lead her toward his quarters, accompanied by the lewd calls of the sailors.

As soon as the door closed behind them, dimming the sounds of the storm outside, the captain of the galleon propelled Adriana into the center of his cabin.

"Now. I've waited long enough for my pay."

"I've been paying ya' all I can! Every Reale I make goes t' ya'!"

"I've grown weary of your pittance and decided to collect the balance. There's no point in making excuses now, my dear." A strange cry followed by a thump sounded outside the door and the captain's eyebrows moved together. He turned to walk toward the door but Adriana stepped forward and touched his arm. When he spun back to face her, Adriana fingered the neckline of her shirt and pulled it down to reveal a little more of her suntanned breast. Her other hand strayed to her thigh and she began to raise her skirt upwards.

"P'raps… p'raps I don't like bein' in debt… let me settle it now and be done with it." With a low snort of laughter, the captain began to unbuckle his belt.

"You'll be settlin that debt for a lot longer than you think." Adriana just smirked at him and watched, leaning casually on his map desk as he toed off his boots and started to lower his breeches.

"That pretty face and body of yours will be nothin' more than a penny whore's by the time we're done with ya. Even the poorest beggar won't want ya."

The moment he dropped the breeches to his ankles, Adriana lunged forward and swept his feet out from under him. With his feet so encumbered by his breeches, he was unable to stop himself and he collapsed in an undignified heap on the floor, shouting curses. Adriana moved as quickly as a cat to swipe his twin cutlasses from his awkwardly shifting body. One of them she flung across the room to stick into the wall with a quivering, metallic thunk. The other she angled toward the captain's stomach while she cocked his flintlock and aimed it at his head from where she stood above him at his side. He still had another flintlock on his person but with two weapons aimed at him he knew he couldn't get it before she gutted him or blasted a hole in his face. Instead, with his legs and privates exposed, he raised his hands in surrender.

"You're a mite quicker in mind and body than your father, _senorita_. Perhaps we can strike a bargain?"

"My debt is paid. In full. From this moment forward, I owe ya' nothin'!"

"I said a bargain. I have men to pay and a business to run."

"Run it someplace else. The tavern is mine. Leave me alone." The captain reached toward her and Adriana flicked her wrist, slashing a long, deep cut on his arm.

"Don' even think about it." She growled.

"My men will enjoy making you regret this. I'll make you beg for death." The captain turned his head toward the cabin door and shouted for his first mate.

"Costa! Costa!" No one came and Adriana made an exaggerated pose of listening for him.

"Looks like yer a man short." Even as she spoke, the door banged open. Mary stood there, breathing hard with her hair in disarray and her face and body marked with spattered blood that had merged with the rain water and dissolved into dark discolorations on her clothing.

"Oh, I made it in time for the show!" She started laughing at the captain as he attempted to cover himself.

"and a right good one it is! Get yer poxy arse up!"

The captain doggedly refused to be the least bit apologetic. His anger drove him to make further threats against Adriana and Mary.

"I'll have you both swingin' from my yardarms before this is over. But not before my men are done with you." He tugged his breeches up and hastily buttoned them as he spoke.

"Oh, they're done with us already, Cap'n. Take a look." Mary toed the door open to reveal the deck, littered in the man's crew and soaked in the heavy rain fall. The raindrops were falling so hard they created a mist on the surface of the deck that crawled between the bodies like a ghostly haze. Ibrahim walked among them, making his way over to the captain's cabin with his twin cutlasses held out to the sides. Occasionally, one of the bodies received an additional hole from him, just to make sure. Noticing the opened door and the Captain seemingly neutralized, he quickened his steps to join them.

"Everyone alright? Dria?" He swept his eyes over his two companions and let them linger on Adriana for an extra moment. When she nodded, he switched back to Mary.

"Let's finish this then, so we can return. I don't want us to be missed in the morning."

"Right."

With a shout and a startlingly fast movement, the captain knocked aside the sword held in Adriana's hand and ducked down to snatch his second flintlock from his holster. The deafening crack of Adriana pulling the trigger of the gun in her own hand filled the cabin, as well as the smoke from the spent gunpowder. She felt herself knocked down onto the floor as a second gunshot rang out. A heavy weight on her made her thrash and nearly scream until Ibrahim's voice broke through her panic.

"It's me, Dria! It's just me!" They both sat up and looked over at the captain where he lay in a puddle of blood that became more apparent as the smoke began to drift out the door of the cabin. He had a hole in his throat and he was quite clearly dead. Adriana had missed her shot. Mary stood up from where she had been crouched over him and retracted her bloodied hidden blade.

"Bastard moves fast but not fast enough. Good riddance, eh?" Adriana just nodded her head and threw the gun she had fired into the corner of the cabin. Ibrahim helped her to her feet and held her arm all the way to the door before releasing it and unhooking the lantern from the ceiling. He poured the oil from it over the entire cabin and then smashed it down onto the floor to ignite the floorboards. Mary and Adriana went ahead to pull out the knots on the ropes for lowering the dinghy back down to the water. Ibrahim met them there and made Adriana climb down after Mary before he raised the anchor of the ship to set it adrift. In such a riotous storm, it would be pulled away on the waves and shipwrecked someplace far from there if it didn't burn completely. He climbed down, joined them in the dinghy and took the oars to paddle them the short distance back to shore. On the way, he joked about the rain.

"Might as well have swum, yes, as much good bothering to stay dry does for our clothes?" He finished with an unexpected wheezing cough that made Mary give him a sharp look in the darkness. He refused to acknowledge it and quickly wiped his mouth with his dark sleeve. On shore, he held the boat steady while the women got out, breathing more heavily than someone of his level of fitness should. He made it a few steps toward the tavern and then abruptly fell to his hands and knees on the sand. He clutched his side with one hand and held himself up with the other. Mary and Adriana ran back to him and his arm buckled. The two women helped him roll over onto this back. Mary yanked his hand from his chest and shifted his unbuttoned vest aside. His shirt was stained with blood. It had been nearly indistinguishable due to the pouring rain washing away the evidence so well. Mary raised her voice in alarm.

"Ya' fuckin' liar! Ibrahim! Don't ya' fuckin' do this! Not now! Dammit! Look what yer leavin' behind!" Mary covered her mouth, lurched to her feet and paced away. Ibraham turned his face and studied Adriana. Adriana felt her heart nearly burst at the realization of his affection for her. It crushed her at the very same moment, for no one had ever hidden their interest in her as well as he had and she knew that he cared for far more than her appearance. Suddenly all the words he had said to her as he helped train her took on different meaning, especially the questions he had asked her recently about what she wanted to do when she was free. He had often encouraged her to come to the small island he called home and meet his and Mary's other friends, but only if she could reconcile herself to a life without the tavern. She had always refused. Now she wished she hadn't.

Ibrahim's hand moved slightly in the sand between them and Adriana picked it up and held it to her chest. She watched his face and ran her eyes over his features. Born on these very Caribbean islands, with a dark complexion and pale eyes acquired from his unusual mix of Mayan and Persian heritage, he had no more than fifteen years on her; not as old as some who had attempted to win her over with silvered tongues or bawdy promises, but older than she normally would have taken a second look at. But his features were kind despite his skill with weapons, and his patience was endless. She had always envied his incredibly smooth grace with swords and more than once he had firmly taught her patience by forcing her to stay calm while he goaded her with insults, raising her ire with deliberate commentary on a woman's lesser abilities in combat. He only got worse when she would attempt to downplay her femininity by tying her hair up in a bun, tightly wrapping her breasts and donning men's clothing for her training.

"Appearances don't matter, Dria. It's your skill, only your skill that matters. Prove to me you're much more than you appear." More than once, he had looked pointedly at Mary afterwards if she had been present, and she would usually storm off in a snit. His stern lessons made his rare compliments for her achievements all the more valuable, for they had powerful meaning behind them.

Adriana felt tears rising in her eyes and she let them fall, lost in the rainwater that slicked her hair to her scalp and ran in thousands of rivulets down her face and arms. Ibrahim shook his head slightly in the sand and raised his hand further up in her grip to touch her chin.

"Don't, Dria. Don't let my last memory of you be sadness. You've won a new life… I only wish I could stay and convince you to share it with me. " His voice was thick with blood and the air rasped in his lungs. Adriana had leaned close then and touched her lips to his. He kissed her back almost chastely if not for the affection behind it and then rested as Adriana pressed her cheek against his and gripped his hand in both of hers. Only a short time later she felt him exhale deeply, as if he had fallen asleep. His hand became heavy in hers and when she sat up his eyes were open, unblinking in the rain, and his chest no longer rose and fell.

Adriana and Mary buried him there in the sand that stormy night, unseen by anyone, and his grave was left unmarked.

Edward thinks about how Adriana must have felt in the days and weeks following her triumph, so darkened by the loss of a friend and possible lover. Mary said she had forsaken the concept of ever being with anyone; not after she had witnessed the terrible death of someone who had sacrificed himself by taking the bullet intended for her. That's why, when Mary had also revealed that Adriana confessed that "something about 'is crass, irritatin' presence is quite intriguin' and might actually hide a better person than 'e lets on with all 'is false bravado and empty blusterin,'" Edward had found himself flabbergasted. Adriana's rather unsavory description of him still bit just as painfully as when Mary had regaled it while imitating her friend's dismissive attitude.

Perhaps it is time for him to attempt being less of a disgusting rogue, as she prefers to call him, and be more of a gentleman, as unappealing as the thought is.


End file.
