Chapter Text
Night had fallen over the waves.
The roaring sea, the storm and the sky mixed together in one heavy dark, dirty blue.
Many nights she had spent at sea. Many of them good, many horrible. Tonight felt different.
The sea did not whisper and mumble like it usually did, it yelled, shouted and screeched. A deep echoing roar that sounded as if an ancient being roamed those waves, deciding after centuries that it would make its ascent to end mankind.
She shot up, eyes wide. Her heart racing.
Gasping for air, her eyes wide, staring into the dark.
The woman's hand rushed up to her face, ran through her hair and then held her head. It seemed like her dreams still blurred into her thoughts, like a drop of ink in water. Yet sense returne dto her. There was no monster. No Leviathan.
It was gunshots she heard, bellowing canons and screams.
She could barely as much as squint at the door to her cabin, still dreamy and weary of sleep, before a huge bump pushed her out of the bed, onto the wooden floor.
Her heartbeat, just calmed, began picking up pace again, beating violently. The whole room seemed to shift around her as she tried to stay on the ground, not to tumble and fall once more. Adrenaline had kicked in quickly and she could feel the cold blades on her wrist, giving a small reminder that she was armed.
There was screaming, rain and thunder heard from outside. Dulled by the thick wood.
One of the sailors was running by, through the board of the ship. She could hear his steps as he rushed through the narrow corridors, the noise of his panting louder than the dull sound his shoes cause on the wooden floor.
She quickly pushed herself up, rushing through the room and up to the door.
Her room had been one of the few in the ship, that even possessed a door and with a swift motion she threw it open.
Just in time she cut him off, grabbing his arm, forcefully turning him around.
"What is going on? Is thy captain to incompetent to move this ship aro-", she hissed at him with gritted teeth as another bump pushed her into him, against the wall.
He'd caught her. Eyes wide and panicked, breath still hitched.
"Sorry mistress. Terribbley sorrey. But we're under Attack. Misstress. Sir.", he mumbled.
He stared at the woman before him. During all the voyage he did not see her once on board. Her Companion yes, but not the woman that he brought. Not that mysterious woman that seemed to rank higher than any of them.
She'd been sick the first weeks of the voyage. And then she just didn't mind showing herself.
Her dark eyes widened and her expression softened.
"Attack?", she asked both confused and shocked as yet another bump pushed her two steps back.
"Yes, Sir! Misstress. Stay inside please. I have to get on bo-", another bump hit them and she was again pushed at the wall behind her, as the soldier hurried up the stairs.
He stumbled, nearly fell multiple times and she herself had to press into the wall with all her might to stay upright.
"Attack?! Hell!", she hissed once more, rather to herself than at him.
"Master!", a male voice called from behind her and she turned to see the hooded figure running up to her.
It was dark. Oh so dark and she could merely make out the robes of the Assassin that traveled with her.
"I will take care of it.", he spoke, passing her. His hand was softly touching her shoulder as he rushed by.
If she hadn't felt so dizzy already she could've rolled her eyes. The man was young and brash and all too full of himself.
"Walpole... i do not think. That this is a situation. You. Can take care of.", she whispered, somehow annoyed at how naive he was.
Nevertheless he was running for the stairs.
"WALPOLE! Dammit", she shouted once again, without avail.
The idiot would have himself killed.
Skill wasn't of much use in this situation.
There wasn't much any of them could do. Just pray that this whole thing wouldn't sink and become a coffin.
The thought scared her as she frowned and once again scanned teh corridor.
She was left all alone now. Assassin or not, it wouldn't keep the storm at bay. Hidden blades could not save her from drowning. A horrid thought.
"I don't want to die on a forsaken boat...", she muttered, near whispered it under her breath. Her heart beat violently against her chest.
An enormous crack made her jump. She stared at her left as the ship continued cracking loudly and water streamed inside.
"Not on a boat.", she swore to herself.
Edward reached the coast with a smile on his face.
Out of exhaustion he fell onto the clear, white sand. The dark clouds had parted and the sun smiled back down on him.
Out of the water a second man came crawling, gasping for air.
Edward laughed. Why he didn't know. It seems reality had just hit him. He survived and was damn lucky at that moment. Turning his head, he stared out onto the sea.
Dawn was crawling up on the horizon, coloring the beach and the wave sin a red and orange hue that seemed both warm and bloody.
Another realization hit him. Just how many are dead? As far as he could see, there were a lot lot of bodies floating on the soft waves. He looked ahead further again, watching the distance.
Both ships slowly got eaten away by the sea. Not much one could do. A damn shitshow it was. A shame about the sailors. And a shame about the ships.
He turned around. His muscles ached from the swimming. His throat felt tight from swallowing all that salty water. Relaxing for just a moment he lay back down, onto his back as he just lazily gazed up. Better. A few deep breaths. All would be good.
A small shuffling noise made him look down, as a figure crawled out of the water.
Rising up ever so slightly, he gazed at the man before him. Handsome, but worn out. Understandable under these conditions. European, Edward guessed. He was probably one of the Passargers. Had probably imagined his adventure to look quite different from what it was now.
"Was it good for you as well?", he asked the man, dressed in elegant and expensive looking blue robes.
"Havana...", was all he said, looking torn up and done for it, "I must get to Havana."
The man in blue pushed himself onto the warm, soft sand, coughing and relentlessly exhausted.
Edward watched him closely. Even a bit of pity in his gaze. The stranger did indeed look worn out. But there was no way he was getting to Havanna any time soon.
"Well, i'll just build us another ship will i?", Edward teased, even chuckling a little.
Whoever that stranger was, he had no sense of humor.
"I can pay you. Isn't that the sound you pirates like best?", the man hissed, "One hundred Escudos."
Edward pushed himself up, smirking slightly. That was a stack of money. A good pile of it really. "Keep talking."
"Will you, or won't you?", the man in blue hissed, teeth gritted.
Edward smirked again, pushing himself up to standing.
"You don't...", he walked over to the stranded man, "have that money now, do you?"
In a matter of seconds a gun was pulled and Edward jumped at the sight of it's barrel in his face.
"Bloody fucking pirates...", the man argued through gritted teeth, jumped up pulling the trigger.
The gun clicked - but that was about it.
Shock soon replaced by anger and luck, and on the other side by panic and angry hissing.
Edward laughed as the man turned to run into the jungle.
"I'm on to you!"
Being on to him was no problem. Reaching him neither.
Killing him was one.
The man was fast, agile and a brilliant fighter - luckily for Edward, he seemed completely tired out by the escape of the ship. Barely able to stand his ground after the following sprint through the jungle. Killing him, even though Edward had rather tried stopping him at first, had still been an exhausting act.
Clenching his already hurt arm beneath his hand, Edward hissed slightly, as he crouched down, searching if there was anything interesting on the guy.
He'd hurt himself not just on the ship, but yet again in the sword fight.
Blood was dripping down his arm as he read through the letter in his hands.
"Duncan Walpole, aye?", he whispered, looking down at the corpse at his feet, "Nice to meet you."
It didn't speak of money, per say, but of great reward.
Edward sighted, frowning down at the letter.
It seemed easy enough? Just switch into the mans clothes. Collect the bounty. All too easy really.
There was still the risk of being recognized as, well, not Duncan Walpole. But he could still talk himself out of that, right? He was clever enough for that, right? The letter said after all, that whoever that Torres was, that awaited him, he did not know his face, but would recognize his clothing.
There was also note of a Brotherhood. Whatever that may mean.
The man looked up. Out upon the small jungle before him.
This day had been horrid so far. Really. He had lost his employer and the whole damn ship he was sailing on, meaning he had lost his next months wages. He could use this. Who was he to deny fate and not take this very fortunate chance that had, literally lain itself out before him.
With a small sigh, he took letter, bag and costume yielding to his mischievous plan.
"Tight...", he muttered, his hands running over the fabric that he now wore.
It felt rich. Beautiful fabric, lovely design, seemingly a million little details and hidden little pockets scattered on the coat only. The golden details on the belt and straps alike were beautifully forged, showing a sign. Maybe a coat of arms? Maybe a family emblem?
Edward asked himself if he'd ever worn something like it. It had obviously been tailored for old Duncan and who knew how much it had cost the man.
At first, he had suspected the man to be a rich salesman. Into Banking, maybe. Having an important meeting for a significant deal.
These thoughts quickly vanished however, not just after having seen the man fighting but now getting to examine his belongings.
A hired killer. Maybe. All those weapons...the gun, the daggers, the throwing knifes, the sword - very well, one could explain that. Maybe the man was overly obsessed with security, who knew. But the mechanic masterpiece of a blade that now lay in his hands....well that was something.
Edward looked at it. Tried figuring it out, before getting frustrated.
With a sight he threw it into the bushes and got up, glancing back one last time at the remains of the stranger.
Whoever the man was, he was dead now.
And with that Edward began to look around, searching for his way of the island.
There was a small ship plundered at the coast and with hasty steps he went straight at it when he heard it.
This exhausted, little chuckle was the first thing he ever heard of her and it already fascinated him.
He jumped slightly at the thought of being seen already and turned around rapidly. Had his pursuer been there minutes earlier, things would have ended quite differently.
But they hadn't. And catching his first glimpses of the woman, he was quite glad it had went this way.
She walked towards him with calm in her step. Seemingly not at all hostile. Edward froze, simply staring at her.
"Mister Walpole.", she started, a smile forming on her lips, "Who would believe it."
Her dark, long hair glistened in the sun. It was fuzzily hanging in her face.
Her skin seemed unlikely pale. Paler than anything he'd seen in quite a while around the sea. Her lips were of a dark red, maybe because she was bleeding out of the corner of her mouth, yet it still had it's effect.
Her clothes seemed fancy. Fancier even than anything he'd ever seen the rich salesmen in Navassa or Tortuga wear. The golden buttons on her trousers seemed to be worth more than his whole equipment. The Corset around her upper body both alluring and on further inspection held places for...knives. It was easy to recognize that whoever the strange woman was, she was in the same cult as dear Mister Walpole.
Edward tensed. This one may recognize his face, or in this case, would not recognize Duncan's face.
Examining further he watched what he would be up against. The woman was much smaller than him. In size and frame and he was sure he could overpower her in an instance. Especially since she was limping, seemingly at least slightly hurt already. She had most likely escaped the sinking ship - which meant that she had to be exhausted.
Yet...she wore a long beautiful sword on her back and a pair of pistols in a holster around her thigh. So he had to be quick about it.
For a second there Edward though about jumping her. Knocking her out before she had a chance to uncover his mystery. But to his own demise he was, watching her. There was something about her. That he had never encountered before. So he didn't move as she came to a halt before him, her hand running over her forehead pushing her wet hair back.
"I'm, glad you are in one piece.", she muttered, more concentrated on herself than on him.
She began undressing as she spoke, struggling as she pulled the long, wet coat of her shoulders, leaving her bare under the sun.
Edward hadn't answered, still staring at her.
Now he had another problem. He didn't want to kill her.
This, well this and a fishtail, was pretty much how he imagined a mermaid to look like if he ever met one.
He thought hard if he ever met a woman more alluring than her, but failed at the task. Was it the weapons? Plain Beauty? He'd seen plenty of beautiful women, so that couldn't be it, could it? Her form? Her eyes? Her calm and strange demeanor?
She looked up to him and he still stared as she examined him.
Edward tensed yet again, knowing his little parade could end right here and then, but instead of saying something, she simply began smiling, chuckling to herself yet again as she placed a hand on his shoulder.
Okay. Beautiful but insane. That was okay with him.
"I...", she started, not able to shake that grin, "I can't believe that we two, out of all of them sailors, are the only ones who bloody survived this ride."
She looked straight into his eyes. And he into hers.
He had to say something. Had to, or she would question him.
"What's...what's so funny about that?", Edward finally asked, still a little scared if she recognized he wasn't who he appeared to be.
"Whats so funny?", she suddenly frowned as she asked that.
He stared at her in shock, as she pulled her hair back with her hand yet again. He only now noticed her black leather gloves and asked himself why she would wear something like that at these temperatures.
"What's so funny.", she whispered and came closer again, "Is that we survived this torture."
She shrugged, before simply continuing: " A joke. It surely must be. A nnonchalant, twisted turn of events.
As you know, I haven't exactly fancied leaving Europe for this...this Pirate infested scorn of land. ...but then again..."
The woman stepped forward, her hands on her hips as she looked around her.
A moment of silence settled before she turned her head back to him, explaining: "It is quite tolerable. I mean the waters here are warm. Not is I had expected them ice cold. There's islands all around. Not at all like the Atlantic on our way. There's no fog...And most importantly, we survived. It could have been worse, dear.", she placed a hand on his chest, smiling at him once again.
"Well you are certainly right about that...", Edward sighted, agreeing with a shrug.
She didn't seem to recognize him. Which was rather strange, considering they truly set over from Europe together.
"You know. It really is somehow entertaining it's simply the two of us, the only two Assassins on the ship, to survive this damned attack.", she muttered to herself.
"Right...", Edward smiled carefully.
"So Mister Walpole. Guess we gotta get ourselves a ride to...where was it you needed to go?", she asked taking a small walk looking at her surroundings.
"Havana.", he shot.
She looked at him. "Havana?"
There was something about her eyes, Edward noted, drawing him to her. Like a damn siren she was.
"Havana.", he nodded, hoping that would be the right answer.
She blinked a few times and he glanced at her eyes, yet again before she shrugged.
"Alright Mister Walpole. You're my compass. At least the Mentor told me. You know the way. Lead us then.", she gestured, holding her coat in her other hand.
Edward sighed relieved. She really didn't seem to have noticed his little make over.
On the over hand he had to deal with a damn woman following him around now. He just hoped she wouldn't bring him in too much trouble. Or that he had to share the bounty.
He watched her, walking up in front of him to stare down at the beach.
"On the other hand", he thought to himself glancing at her form, "this could turn out quite nice.", he smiled smugly.
"What's that?", she asked, gesturing to the people on the beach.
Edward walked up to her, glancing too. "A salesman ship. Looks like someone tries to take it over."
"Maybe if we help the poor man we can owe our favor to get us closer to our destination...", she whispered huskily and glanced at him.
He smirked and shrugged. "Nice idea. Thought the same thing. Wait here.", he spoke as he pulled his swords out of their halter.
"Eh.", she grabbed him by the shoulder and pulled him back rather roughly.
He stared at her wide eyed, but her eyes were fixed on the beach.
"You stay here Walpole. We're gonna need you in one piece. Let me take them. I'm here for your protection anyway. Let me protect.", she declared.
Her voice appeared darker than before and her expression hardened like a wildcat fixated on it's pray.
For his protection? This woman? Was she out of her mind or was he?
"Are you sure?", Edward asked, chuckling to himself.
There were a lot of guards and he didn't quite believe she could even take out two of them.
"This is an order, Walpole. Didn't your Mentor told you to listen to me? I am of higher rank than thou. Do not forget that.", she mumbled to herself, as she made her way down.
Edward wanted to stop her, say anything but it was her eyes that held him back.
It was at that day, that he decided to keep her around.
He never saw someone do something like that. Never saw anyone fight like that.
She moved like a dancer and stroke with such force, that her motions appeared like something they would show on a stage at the finest theaters in Paris and London and who knows where.
Without taking a single hit, she slit the last man throat, walking past his tumbling body without sparing him a glance.
Edward still watched her. Mouth opened.
"What?", she called up to him.
"What are you...what...what was that?", he laughed slightly, one hand fumbling with his full, bond hair.
She frowned, shaking her head, seemingly confused by his demeanor and admiration.
"Now you know why they call me the Devil over in Europe. Surprised the stories are true, Walpole?", she asked, cockily raising a brow, readjusting her sword.
Edward chuckled, holding out his hands defensively, not quite knowing what to say to that.
She looked him in the eyes once more and once more he noticed himself staring back, feeling the urge to get closer to her.
"Let's get to the poor man down there. I suppose i frightened him.", she broke the intricate moment, turning her back to him, walking down the beach again.
"Oh Mylady. My god...did you...what possessed you, a woman should not fight like this...at all! Thanks thank you so much though i-", as the man rushed up to grab her hand Edward rapidly held him back.
"Hey, not so rough with the lady, aye?", he warned walking up to create some distance between the strange couple.
She gave him a slight smirk at that gentlemanlike behavior and he returned it, before turning back to the helpless salesman.
"Is that yours?", he gestured to the ship, not far from the beach.
"Yes. That is my vessel," he sighted, "but here lies it's poor captain and i have no art for sailing..."
"I can pilot her my self, no mind.", Edward shrugged it off.
The devil, silently observing the conversation quickly turned her head to look at him, somehow questioning. "Since when can you pilot a ship, Walpole?"
Edward jumped slightly. There lay mistrust in her words. Walpole seemingly couldn't sail, he'd just found out.
"You didn't know?", he asked, turning his head to look at her, playing it cool.
"No...", she answered slowly and mistrustful.
"Well. I'm full of surprises.", he smirked, quickly turning back to the salesman, "The name is Duncan. By the way. What is you're name, friend?"
"Stede. Stede Bonnet.", the man smiled softly.
She just stood there, looking a little displeased. Her arms crossed she glared at Walpole.
"Well. I will be going on board then. I guess you will take care of this?", she asked, staring Edward down and making him gulp.
"Yes. I will. Go forth and be careful...swimming.", he gestured at the sea.
She disappeared with a small, sweet huff and he watched her body gliding softly into the sea.
"She's a a beauty...", Bonnet glanced after her, just as Edward did.
"Oh yes.", he chuckled slightly.
"But...I've never seen a woman fight like that..."
"Me neither Bonnet. Nor a man.", Edward's smile disappeared, leaving his gaze cold.
He now knew that she could possibly kill him if she wanted, or found out who he was.
"Is she your...your wife?"
Edward shook his head. "Don't quite know that myself lad."