I still would be your shelter; [closed]

[aread]

Characters: James Kidd + Anne Bonny, possibly Edward Kenway later on??
Date: December 27th
Location: The palace Antechamber to begin, and then in Wood.
Situation: Pirate reunion! There will be spoilers within so please watch your step. <3

Comments

[jackdaws]

[Anne, you're a saint. The patron saint of parched sailors. Edward likewise takes a seat, giving Mary's point due consideration.]

And I'd be shocked to hear you say otherwise, Mary. Alls I'm thinking is... that perhaps it's better I wait things out, for a time. Get information and find where others stand. [He sits back, and crosses his arms.] Rushing in on something I knew nothing about and cocking it all up was how that mess with the Observatory began in the first place. I won't do that again.

[And as much as he doesn't like to admit it, he agrees. Mary's returning to life here is unnatural; it goes against God Himself. Edward doubts he'd feel any different if it were Thatch getting prised away from the jaws of the Devil, or Caroline restored to life, God rest her soul. Everyone has an appointed end.]

Suppose Ah Tabai and the other Assassins were here -- what do you think their angle would be? Same as yours, fight the good fight where one's to be found? [He's still the student here when it comes to how the Assassins think and act. But for once, he wants to hear what Mary has to say on the subject, rather than scoffing at it.]

[aread]

[Wow, did she stumble into some alternate universe twilight zone where Edward Kenway has a scrap more sense than what God gave twittering birds? Mary is silent for a moment, she leans back in her chair and just studies him, keen and speculative, as if seeing him perhaps for the first of all possible times.]

Bloody Hell, Edward. You've done some growing, since I saw you last.

[Is that faint pride in her voice? You bet it is, and her smile is crooked and warm with that same sentiment.]

They'd do the same, aye. Protect those who can't protect themselves. Suffer no loss to liberty. Being here is a loss to it, no matter that they call us free. We aren't meant to be here, and we've no right to remain.

[Getting Edward and Anne back is a priority, definitely, and she is. Not going to think too closely about what that will mean for her down the bowline.]

This place-- does it seem strange to you, Edward? Like the Observatory was a queer thing to behold? Not quite the same, but cousins, morelike.

[jackdaws]

I needed to do some growing up, like you always warned me. After all what happened at the prison, it... it laid me low for a time. [An understatement, to be sure. But he doesn't need to spell it out for her when he'd been so desperate to get her out of that prison alive. How he'd refused to leave her behind.] I realised I wanted to do right by you. Not disregard your memory by carrying on how I always did, caring for no one and nothing but riches. Even Adé wound up leaving me behind for the Assassins, and that was when I knew things needed changing.

[Edward reaches to take her hand, briefly, and squeezes it in affection.] I still have a long ways to go, and a great deal to learn. But I couldn't have even began on this new path without all that faith you had in me. So I suppose... what I want to say is thank you.

[He pauses, looking down at the table, sheepish but humbled. She was right, years ago he'd sooner throw himself overboard to Davy Jones than to admit she spoke sense all along, but things between them have changed. As to her question...]

This place isn't the same as the Observatory, far from it. But they've both wonders and terrors beyond our knowing, aye. No doubt there are secret things here the Templars would be eager to sink their dirty claws into just the same.

[The Emperor's power over life and death being just one of them. And he can scarce wrap his mind around what they might do with things like magic...]

[aread]

[Christ, he really has changed. For the better, it seems, and Mary tips her head to one side in acknowledgement of that fact. When he takes her hand, she returns the pressure given. It feels a little like having come to the end of a road only to find another buried beneath overgrowth, and she's glad of it in a way. At least her death meant something, then. Cold comfort, but comfort nonetheless.]

I didn't mean in what it does Edward. But you can't tell me those black palace walls don't hearken back to another time and place.

[At first she'd considered this some Templar plot, but that suspicion's abated some. She'd have heard tell of it by now, some dark whisper, and yet all the avenues she generally plies for information have remained silent and still. It's a point of frustration, to be true, she feels a little like a bird with clipped wings. A petty metaphor, if a poignant one.]