May the Father of Understanding Guide Us (Open)

Over the next few weeks, Elizabeth continued with her work as if nothing had changed. Spanish, French, Dutch, everyone but the British fell at her hands. She would show no mercy, and take what she wanted. She was indeed ruthless, and she fought like the Demon she once was. At night, when she wasn't spending time with Stodd, she would spend her time amongst the sails where she would sing the saddest songs she knew.

"Welcome to Nassau, Roger" Elizabeth said happily as Nassau came into view. "She may not look like much to you, but she's my home. Ben called it a cesspool, Woodes Rogers damn well despises the place, and the British have been destroying her since they ran us out of town. Still, at least she's not as bad as that shit-hole I found you wallowing in." The crew seemed rather happy to be at Nassau. Elizabeth set about barking orders to her crew, and handed the helm over to Stevens before she raced off to the crow's nest. She sat there for a few minutes as she cried quietly. She finally knew how Stodd must have felt when she acquired her galleon, and it hurt like hell. She had just found him, and now she was probably going to lose him again, and it felt like her heart had been ripped from her chest.

"Alright, these are the plans for the upgrades to the Siren. Make sure the cargo gets sold, and take the alcohol up to the Old Avery. The money from the sales is to be used to buy ammunition. Stevens, you're in charge."
"Aye, captain." Elizabeth looked at the ship that was to be Stodd's, and hung her head. It was a first rate frigate with a black hull, white sails, and well over 100 guns. She wanted to blow it clear out of the water.
"She's all yours, Roger. All she needs is a name, a figurehead, and a swatch of cloth." Elizabeth hung her head sadly; Panther, sensing her sadness, wrapped himself around her legs. "I'll be at the Old Avery. Why don't you join me when you're done here?" Elizabeth quickly made her way to the tavern, and proceeded to get herself a drink.

She stared vacantly into her tankard as tears flowed freely from her eyes. Not only was she about to lose Stodd once again, but she missed her friends and family so much. Nassau was her home, and she had fond memories of the place; her time spent with the pirates was the best time of her life. Nobody she knew died peacefully. Elizabeth packed Hornigold's old corncob pipe with a mixture of tobacco and hemp, and lit it; she welcomed the calming sensation. Elizabeth looked at the old sketch she had done of her and her friends sitting in that very spot a very long time ago, and wept openly. A few people looked at her like she had lost her mind. Dawson looked at his captain, and hung his head. He knew her heart was broken, but there was nothing he could do to help. She was already on her second tankard of rum, and he knew it was only a matter of time until she would pass out, or become too drunk to walk on her own.

Roger had barely slept during the trip to Nassau. Most nights he spent awake, either embracing Elizabeth and in her embrace, or simply staring at her, watching her in the pleasure of sleep. Some nights he climbed to the top of the mainmast, settling in the crows nest and letting the night sky seep into him, to make him remember his own career upon the ocean. Though he enjoyed it, there was something about being out here that just didn't sit right with him. He couldn't pinpoint it.

When Nassau came into sight, Roger was truly caught off guard. He'd heard about the British occupation, they'd turned it into a fort island, decimated the town and basically raped the island of its pirate heritage, and yet when he saw it, it was the British looking glum, it was their ships set off by the sides of the docks, far from the shipping routes that saw all manner of ships coming in. It was something else - he didn't even notice when Elizabeth left his side.

When they made it port side, Elizabeth pointed out the ship Roger would be after. He didn't know much about what to do. He didn't know if someone owned it, if he'd need to fight for it. All he knew is, as far as she was concerned, it was his. He gave her a kiss on the head and smiled at her warmly.

"Ah'll see you there."

In silence, alone, Roger made his way to the huge ship. The Clachnaben, he'd call it. He lived in a small village near the mountain of Aberdeenshire, and he'd always loved climbing it. When he thought of a figurehead, all he could see was what he'd seen in his dreams as a child, the ship he'd always wanted, back when he was still a young lad - a great wolf, its teeth bared, its fur mangled and messy, and its eyes, they would be reading only fury. The sails would be white, he knew that much. Simple, elegant. Cheap. And Elizabeth would be with him.

And then Roger stopped, when he realised she wouldn't be. He froze, not sure what to do. He looked up at the ship, bobbing gently on the water, and turned, walking away. He couldn't. He couldn't bring himself to part himself from her, not now after all that had happened. He looked around and found the Old Avery, and slowly walked in.

Elizabeth was sitting with two empty tankards before her, an empty bottle, and she was busy on the second tankard.
Her mask lay at her side, and her face was hidden by the shadows cast by her hat. She continued to cry as she looked down at the picture of her and her friends.
"Fucking British! They've destroyed everything, the bastards!" Dawson simply looked at his captain, and shook his head.

Roger watched as a number of Regulars stood up, scowling at someone at the bar. He didn't need much more reasoning than that to tell it was Elizabeth. As he walked through the crowd he saw men spot him, and heard murmering. 'The Scarred Admiral' he was often called, and one by one they sat back down, watching him walk up next to the woman, seemingly a pirate, and sat by her side.

"Talk like that'll start a bar fight."

He said coldly, ordering a glass of stout. He needed something good, something with taste to it. He'd have felt better with just a clean water, but that sort of stuff wasn't all too common in British occupied islands, let alone old pirate colonies.

"But it's true, Roger. Sure, it were a pirate port, but it were a magnificent one! Half the girls are dead or roughed up, plague is spreading like fucking fire, and the island has gone down the shitter. Christ, this is worse off than a bloody plague ship." Elizabeth took a sip of her rum and growled quietly. "Nassau... I lived here for fourteen fucking years, seven of which I lived in a goddamned tree. Still, she'll always be my home, even if I do feel like a bloody pariah."

He nodded, and smiled to the barkeep as he got his drink. He took a sip and let out a low sigh, tapping the bar top a few times, thinking. He let the sensation of alcohol wash over him - despite everything, he always tried to avoid drinking on ships if he could avoid it. Most time he couldn't, but it was the thought that counted.

"The ship's fine. A true beauty. Clachnaben'd be a good name for it - it was a mountain near my hometown. I used to climb it wi' my friends and family, way back when. Was thinking of a Wulver for the figurehead. It'd look good, I feel."

He took another long swig, wiping his lips and looking at Elizabeth for a long moment. He rested a hand on the back of his head, turning her to face him. He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

"It'd all be nice. But that ship'll never be mine. It's not mine."

"She's all yours, Roger. A true beauty if ever I saw one." Elizabeth downed what was left of her rum, tossed a few coins on the table, and flashed a strange coin to the barkeep. The barkeep smiled, and nodded to a young man who quickly disappeared.

"Here's your order, captain" the man said happily as he handed Elizabeth a bottle of rum bearing her old crest. He looked around him cautiously, and leaned closer to Elizabeth. "We've not forgotten you, captain. We missed you terribly. You'll always be our queen, love."
"Thanks, mate. I've not forgotten about you lot either." Elizabeth looked at the bottle of rum, and smiled warmly. "Nassau'll always be my home." She knew something was happening, and she was overjoyed. Being around some familiar, friendly faces made her happier. She smiled knowingly, and handed the man a small piece of paper.

"No, she's not. Naught my ship, what I've worked for, it's not my men. And all it'll do it take me from you. I cannae do it, not now."

He downed the last of his drink, and set the glass down. Roger looked at Liz, and noticed the shared looks, the passed goods, and sighed, staying silent for a moment. Before long he spoke again, in a hush tone.

"I'm not taking the ship, Liz. I'm staying with you. Where'er you are, I am."

"You can always sail in my fleet, Roger. That way, we won't be apart, and you won't feel like nothing." Elizabeth took a sip of her rum, and smiled. It was truly wonderful, and it reminded her of the good old days. The young man from earlier whispered something in Elizabeth's ear, and she nodded as if answering a question. The young man quickly looked at Roger, then whispered something else into Elizabeth's ear, she nodded once again. "Either way, she's your ship. Do whatever you want to do with her. I must tell you that I have some work to do tonight. Now, are we going to sit here all day, or can I show you around the island?" Elizabeth was clearly happy about something, and that was never a good thing.

Roger smiled and rubbed his head happily, leaning back and standing up. He adjusted his coat, in part wondering what was going on - she seemed happier than she had been in a while.

"Aye, let's see what you've got to show me."

Elizabeth smiled, and led Stodd out of the Tavern. She knew the streets of Nassau better than anyone, and it was understandable. She showed him the shops, taverns, inns, brothels, and other places. Her heart broke when they came upon the large British squatter camp.
"This is not the Nassau I remember" Elizabeth said sadly before she continued to lead Stodd around.

Elizabeth smiled upon arriving at the swamp, and sat down at the water's edge. "After Torres killed my parents, and destroyed my house, I spent seven years living in that tree" Elizabeth said as she pointed to a tree with various things hanging from its branches. A large crocodile climbed out of the water, and rested it's head on Elizabeth's lap before letting out a happy moan. "I missed you too, Sentinel" Elizabeth said happily as she scratched the crocodile's chin.

Roger had to admit, the British 'influence' here certainly wasn't a good one. People looked poorer than most islands, more hungry, less happy. The stores and buildings were old breaking in some places and already broken in others. He wasn't sure what to think, and when he came upon the swamp, he was less sure - it looked like every corner of the place was inhabited by the British. He saw a few bones laying around, and had to wonder who'd picked them clean, the animals who lived here, or the crocodiles.

"Amazing how life works out, innit? Back around 1718, I was commissioned to join Woodes Rogers here, to get control of the island, and push out the pirates. In the end it was Chamberlaine, and now it's that old coots corpse that rots at the bottom of the bay, while I stand here, partner and love of one of the founding pirates of the city. Funny what the word 'no' can do."

"Aye, life is funny like that." Elizabeth looked down at Sentinel, and smiled warmly. She remembered everything that she had ever been through, the good, and the bad. "See you later, boy." The crocodile moaned, and made his way back into the water. "There's a lot you don't know, Roger. Things whispered in the dark, shadows of the past, dark dealings, circumstances, and some truths" Elizabeth explained as she rose to her feet. There was a whole other world that few knew about, and she was a master in everything. Being "dead" had its perks, and she was always in the right circles. "I'll show you to my home." Elizabeth dusted herself off, and led the way to the mansion atop the hill.

"Welcome to the Shay manor, Roger" Elizabeth said happily as she unlocked the doors, and opened them to a large, beautiful room. White walls, black furniture, birch flooring, books, treasures, and beautiful artwork.

Roger was amazed when he came into the manor, admiring its craftsmanship, its quality, its materials, everything about it had him amazed and impressed. He took a long deep breath, smiling and crossing his arms. In some odd, sickening way, it reminded him of the few times he'd been inside the Templar headquarters in England.

"It's something else, Liz. Admirable, and a testament in itself, if I might say, that it still stands while so much of piracy and our orders fall."

---

OOC: I am dreadfully sorry, I cannot believe I forgot about this for so long!

"When Torres murdered my parents, he had this place burnt to the ground to cover his crimes. That was sixteen years ago, I had it rebuilt three years ago. I was going to stay here with my family..." Elizabeth stood by the window, and stroked the intricate woodwork softly, lovingly. "My mother died right here," Elizabeth began as she stroked the Assassin emblem carved into the wood, "Dad died exactly where you're standing." Normally Elizabeth would have been reduced to a sobbing wreck at the mere thought of her parents, let alone how they died, but it seemed like she had made peace with it. Elizabeth smiled as she turned to face Stodd. "You are more than welcome to stay as long as you like, so make yourself at home, Roger."

(It's quite alright XD)

"Aye, I will. Thank you."

Roger pulled off his coat and set it down on a nearby table, running his fingers over it and smiling - smooth, good quality stuff. Just to the touch, it felt 'heavy.' He had to pause for a moment, when he looked to Elizabeth, in this big house, smiling, looking at him. For a sudden and shocking moment, he forgot what they were, what they'd done. He thought of her wearing a ring, he thought of the two of them living here, of a child running up to... them...

He shook his head, reminding himself of why that sort of thing wasn't right. She wasn't a wife, he wasn't a husband. She was a pirate - no matter what he made her masquerade as, her soul would always be a pirates soul, and he was an Admiral... or a Commodore... or something. The only thing he knew he was for sure was a Templar - he'd received enough threatening letters in London to know he was still ranked amongst them, as much as he hated it. She was as well. Perhaps they needed to buy some big gaudy banner and hang it in the living room. He sighed, and walked over to her, holding her arms by her side, smiling.

"As long as I like... You sure about that?"

"Aye, Roger, I'm sure. You may stay as long as you like" Elizabeth said with a smile. She looked around her at her home, and felt nothing but joy, she felt like she still had a shot at a normal life. But then she remembered everything that ever happened, and she remembered that she had never had a normal life, nor would she ever have one. Elizabeth sighed, and sat down on the fine leather couch. "It's strange. If I were given the chance to have a normal life, I wouldn't be able to, I just wouldn't know how. Even before my parents were murdered, I knew about the Assassin-Templar war, I knew about the history of my parents, and from the moment I turned four, I was trained to fight, I was trained to kill" Elizabeth said sadly as she removed her mask, and stared at the bloodstains on the white porcelain. "But that doesn't mean that I can't try." De Payens found himself a nice spot to bask in the warmth of the sun while Panther made himself at home on the porch. A beaming smile crept onto her face before Elizabeth leapt up from the couch, cupped her hands around her mouth, and shouted, "BABIES! MOMMY'S HOME!" The sound that followed could only be compared to a stampede. Elizabeth laughed maniacally as two large black wolves came running at her, and leapt straight onto her. "Oh, mommy's missed you so much" Elizabeth chuckled happily as the wolves licked at her face. "Beelzebub, Lucifer, meet Roger." The two wolves looked up at Stodd, and licked their lips before tackling Roger. Their tails wagged happily as they licked at Roger. "Sorry, they get a bit excited. But at least they like you" Elizabeth said with a laugh as she pulled some meat from her bag, and tossed it to the wolves.

Roger could say he'd been caught off guard by the two massive hounds that came upon him. In the same way, he could say he'd been a bit of a target for the Templars after he attempted to flee. The dogs had knocked him flat on his arse, and he was practically their prisoner - they were alone massive, and together a force to be reckoned with. And, to add to that, he didn't actually mind being tackled by happy dogs, of all things. In fact, they'd not given him the chance to do anything, most of all respond to Liz.

He smiled and ran his hands through the fur of the dogs, scratching and patting them as they doused his face in their saliva. It wasn't the greatest feeling ever, that was certain, but it wasn't the worst either. Eventually the sound of something splatting on the ground nearby, and then the smell of raw meat had the dogs bounding away, giving Roger the chance to sit up and wipe his face clean. He stood up smiling, looking at them.

"Fine mutts. What breed're they? I'd half say they're like those dogs King George used to own, the big ones from China."

Roger had never been an animal man, despite most things. He'd never had a real chance to care for them, and when he was young and stuck in the gutter he tended to eat anything he could, rather than raise it. But, Liz was clearly quite different. Crocodiles, wolves, panthers, a lizard, she was an odd one, nothing like those he'd known or come to know back in the isles. Truly a spirit of the Caribbean.

"Actually, they're wolves, love. Tried to get my hands on some hyenas, but the Van Ribeeks were fresh out. So... I went with the next best thing." Elizabeth watched as the two wolves fought over the piece of meat; they snarled and snapped their jaws angrily at each other. When the piece of meat finally tore in half, the wolves happily ate their meal in peace. "Growing up on the streets, then suffering constant abuse at the hands of the Assassins, I learnt to hate humans. Animals became my true friends, then I met the pirates, and I loved them like family." Elizabeth removed her gloves, her coat, and the cloth that hid her hair. "Sentinel will probably still be alive long after I'm dead and gone. I've had him since he was a hatchling, he was no bigger than a gecko." Elizabeth poured herself a tankard of rum, and poured Roger a glass of Scottish whiskey. "You may be an officer of the British Royal Navy, but you're no lobster. That's for sure" Elizabeth said with a laugh before she kissed Roger's cheek, and handed him the glass of whiskey.

Roger smiled, taking the glass and drinking it quickly. He wasn't especially thirsty, nor especially desiring of alcohol, he was doing it to hope that it'd be able to explain the sudden flush in his cheeks. Despite everything, he still felt like a teenager when Elizabeth kissed him or spoke about them. It was odd, he felt as if it was like nothing else he'd felt, or ever would feel. Perhaps that's why it always hurt him to hear her talk of sad things, her past, the Assassins, all of it. He set down the glass and looked around, smiling suddenly, as he got an idea.

"You know, we can hear music from the city if we open up the windows. It's a quiet island for the most part, more so when you're in a place like this."

He walked over to the nearest window, facing the town of Nassau and smiling warmly, as the sounds of lutes, violins, and the singing of the people slowly wafted through the air, and entered the home. He looked over at Elizabeth and smirked, making a mock gesture, over-exaggerating a bow, and smirking up at her.

"Lady Elizabeth Shay of Nassau, would you care to dance?"

His Oxford accent was back, and for a brief moment even his smile seemed less like his 'normal' self - less broken, and far more lively, as if the woes that hung over Stodd had vanished.

Elizabeth blushed violently at Stodd's invitation to dance, but more so at the fact that he had called her 'lady'. She had been called many things in the past: Bitch, Demon, Pirate, Satan, Strumpet, Whore, but she was never called a lady.
"Why certainly, Admiral Stodd" Elizabeth said with a soft laugh as she took his hand. She didn't know what Stodd's title was anymore, but she would always see him as an Admiral. Elizabeth was thankful that she had learnt the dances of high society, it made her feel elegant, and not in the least bit embarrassed. Of course, she had to learn them to get closer to some of her targets, but that had all changed. "You know, love, nobody's ever called me lady. Mistress? Aye. But never lady" Elizabeth said quietly as she held onto Roger. Beelzebub and Lucifer sat in the corner, heads cocked to the side, watching the two curiously. Elizabeth actually enjoyed the sensation of dancing, of being whisked off her feet, but she kept it hidden, she didn't want it to be seen as a sign of weakness.

Roger held onto her hand, smiling gently and biting his lip, looking down at her and placing another hand on her hip, before changing and placing it on her buttocks instead - he wasn't going to turn the whole thing into a Court dance, he wanted her to feel normal, not taken out of her comfort zone. He began to move, slowly stepping around, leading her.

"Hm. You could easily be a lady, if you wanted. You've got the wit for it, not to mention the willpower. A woman of the nobility needs to be a strong one to be able to survive, especially considering the majority of the nobility is made of men who think they're the reason the world spins. You? You'd be the perfect little thing to fuck up that concept."

He lead her with every movement, her waist, her hand, her torso, her feet, and then he looked into her eyes, and made sure he was leading her there as well. By the sounds of things the music had hit its peak a while ago, but they could make the most of what they had, he was sure of at least that much.

Elizabeth blushed happily at where Roger had chosen to hold her.
"Why not? I've done it once before. It'll be nice to drive them all insane. With my father's name, and my empire... why, I'd practically fit right in." Elizabeth moved gracefully under Stodd's guidance, if she were wearing a dress, she would have looked like some kind of angel, yet she was the exact opposite; she was bloodthirsty, ruthless, sadistic, and violent. Elizabeth hung her head sadly, and closed her eyes tightly. "This isn't me. I don't want you to know the real me. God knows you'll run away, or have me locked up" Elizabeth thought to herself. She looked up at Stodd, and smiled as she pushed the thought from her mind, and simply enjoyed the moment.

(Sorry, couldn't think of anything more to write)

The two of them moved for some time, in a surprising tune with the calm music that came in from the city. Roger hadn't expected music like this when he first opened the windows, and he'd expected even less for it to go on this long. He'd actually lost himself in the moment, simply moving in tandem with her, and before long he'd forgotten that he was leading. When he came to, he stumbled, and took a moment to adjust himself. By then, the music had changed to something very different.

"Ahem, ahah... That was nice."

He gave her a soft kiss on the forehead, brushing a hand through her hair and holding her tight. She felt so nice, and he felt nice with her, as he always did. He gave her a soft pat on the head, and sighed happily. He didn't wanna say it, but it'd come up eventually.

"Look, Ah've got nowhere back in London. Ah go back there, Ah'll get shot or stabbed. 'ere? Ah feel safe here... Look, Ah'm tryin' to say... Would it be right if Ah... lived... here?"

"I'm not sure Roger" Elizabeth said with a laugh before she turned to face the two great wolves, Lucifer and Beelzebub. "What do you think, babies? Think Admiral Stodd can live here?" The two wolves looked at Elizabeth, then to Stodd, then to each other before they bounced around happily. "You're more than welcome to live here, Roger. In fact, I was going to suggest that you do so. And I would never let you go back to England, I wouldn't allow you to get injured or die." Elizabeth chuckled happily to herself, and planted a gentle kiss on Stodd's lips. "There is, however, one rule. My study is completely out of bounds. It's nothing personal, that's just how it is."