She’s not gonna make it.
He splutters at the sudden drench of salty mist, staggering backwards into a burly frame. Rain heavily pelts downwards towards the turmoil.
Dense masses of clouds merge into a shield of darkness, blocking any beam of light from gracing the wretched sailors.
Trails of serrated stripes scatter through the canvas of shadow, followed by the crackling of thunder piercing through the incessant hail of rain.
A strike to the mast sends it toppling down, narrowly missing the blonde as he collapses back. Flames slither upwards, travelling at rapid speed as if fueled by the rain.
It sinks downwards onto deck, snatching ill-fated men into its shackles of searing pain. Cries of the frightened plead for the mercy of the gods as their safety crumbles below them.
Men disperse hither and yon before diving into the distressed churning waters. Scrambling for stability, Edward clambers onto his feet just to feel his weight shift under him. He’s too late.
The boat, determined to drag him with her, descents into the lapping waves fiercely roaring at its intruder as a warning.
Stiff pale peaks hurl him under into the shivering depths. Corpses swivel and sprawl towards the endless mouth of the shadows.
Frantic movement attracts the likes of ravenous predators, sinking its jaws into the chunks of flesh as a faint coral hue of the remains of the colossal fire illuminates the ocean floor.
He grasps whats left of his consciousness and bounds for the surface.
With hurried glances, he manages to hoist himself onto an adequate amount of drift wood, coughing out the suffocating water until fatigue catches up to his mind; knocking him cold.
You saunter over to the shoreline, hoping to claim some shells, or if you were fortunate, washed up treasure or glistening gems.
The golden rays beat down on the pearly grains, the breeze carries the hearty essence of the ocean and the gentle tide slips to and fro,
lightly brushing pebbles while squawks of seagulls circle the palm trees. Crabs hasten to seek shelter in their burrows at the sight of your feet trampling over their territory.
With a simple wooden bucket, you spend no expense wasting time as you kneel to inspect the possible hidden wonders.
After sifting through dozens of dull rocks, a distant shimmer flashes, a beacon of fate. You smooth the dirt off the coin, without sparing two glances, you know its gold.
Clutching it with a grin, you stride around the corner, only to halt at the sight. Drift wood sprawled about, damp thick ropes tangled in a bundle of saggy seaweed and a torn charred flag.
You proceed with caution, flinching at the abrupt movement of a lone figure groaning. His shaggy locks shaking as he shifts onto his back, a smile gradually lifting. He tilts his head back.
You follow his actions with your legs ready to burst into a sprint. One baby blue eye bursts open and peers straight at yours, startling you.
An easy fit of laughter makes you hesitantly peek over the boulder you automatically used as for protection.
“My apologies, miss. I didn’t mean to scare you”
You blink in response, silently questioning his intentions.
“I promise I won’t hurt you”
His earnest gaze makes your defenses falter and you ditch your hideout to approach the man.
An apricot bandanna is wrapped around his blonde strands while a tooth necklace lays loosely on his defined neck.
His maroon vest is tucked under a prominent red sash held in place by a washed out leather belt, filth encrusted pants soak his lower body and clumpy boots hang floppily in the air.
A placid expression eases your worries as he raises his hands.
“The name’s Edward Kenway, yours?”
“Care to tell me where I am, (Y/N)?”
You gesture to the swaying palm trees, ripe with fresh coconuts and the songs of the native birds.
“The one and only, Havana”
He gives a short smile before gazing towards the coast, the gleaming expanse of endless navy blue reflects in his pools as he mutters.
“Quite far from home, huh”
He tries to get up, only for his advances to be cut by a twinge of pain setting in his stomach. He grunts in discomfort as blood seeps through his vest.
You eye the injury with uneasiness until you offer to help. He seems taken aback by the request before politely declining with ebbing confidence to handle himself.
“Please, I can’t leave you here in a state like that. Let me aid you”
With a dumbfounded chuckle, he agrees and rests his weight on you while you guide him into your conveniently near home.
You place him onto a plush chair, then fetch supplies to heal him; your alabaster blouse loosely flutters with your ankle length velvet skirt, slightly clammy at the tips.
A dry cough turns your attention to his tired expression as you scramble to set the equipment ready.
You sit on an unevenly made stool, clumsy pieces of wood nailed improperly and try to judge the wound’s condition by the outside.
Edward discards his heavily drenched vest, exposing his taut muscles smothered in scarlet. You start to feel a little flushed and try to distract yourself by soaking a cloth in water.
He hums at the sight of your rosy cheeks, boldly content with your reaction. While gently swiping off the blood, you start noticing the ink etched onto his skin, symbols of his life.
You feel drawn to the illustration of a ship, reminding you of your far fetched dream of escaping your dreary life for adventure.
He registers your pensive stare.
“Ever sailed before, (Y/N)?”
You gaze at him bashfully for catching you and begin dabbing alcohol on his jagged scar, leaving him seething through his teeth at the sting.
“Well, no, but, I’ve always wanted to.”
With potent hesitation, you open your sealed lips to whisper a burning question that’s been plaguing your mind.
“Are you a pirate?”
His breathing pauses, his humming gives in to silence and his eyebrows knit together. Dread kicks in, feeding your fear as you retract your contact with him.
An exuberant laugh booms out as he slaps his knee, not minding the straining muscles.
“Where’d you get that idea? I’m a privateer, beaut”
A sigh of relief provokes your fingers to finish up stitching and start tightening the bandage to sustain pressure on the wound.
After a final pull, he’s all patched up and you let out satisfied grin, taking a sip of some tea. He returns the favor with a planted kiss on your hand and a cheeky wink.
As the days rolled by, fondness grew and with that sprouted a blossoming bud of romance but you knew that his heart was not only loyal to you but also to the sea.
With preparations ready for departure, he reminisced the sensation of wielding the wheel as a soft breeze tousled his tied locks.
Despite the aching grief, you found comfort in his merriment, marginally helping you gradually let go. You send a reluctant wave, expecting him to cut to last rope connecting him to the dock.
He doesn’t. Instead, he raises his palm upwards to capture yours.
“Do you trust me, beaut?”
“With my life”’
His grasp hauls you towards him and he catches your stunned form before unsheathing his sword and slashing the final rope.
The wind bounds the ship forward at accelerating speeds, the hull gliding over the glistening tide of sapphire with Havana soon shrinking from view.
He slackens his clasp and sends an all-too-familiar mischievous smirk at your dazed stupor.
“Havana…Edward, what are you thinking? Everything I have is on that island!”
He sidesteps to allow your vision to adjust to another sack lying next to his.
“I might have prepared for that too”
He pulls you into a lingering kiss while you tangle your fingers into his blonde strands. An infectious beaming smile rests on you as he slowly pulls away.
“Where to, captain (Y/N)?”