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She inhaled deeply, a smile spreading across her face as she stepped across the fort’s courtyard. The flags of the ship blew with the wind and she hummed a simply tune, making her way down the steps to it. Sailors moved back and forth across the deck and she strode up to the walkway, tugging the bag on her shoulder as she called, “Ho there! Is there a captain aboard?” The men immediately stopped working at the sound of a woman’s voice, hurrying to the side of the ship to catch a glimpse at her; she giggled as they stared and she pressed a hand to her chest, just above where her dress covered her breasts. “I was wondering if I could fetch a ride to another port!” The men all started talking and she let out another laugh, shouting over them, “Men, men, one at a time! I’ve only two ears!” A man dressed in frontiersmen leathers stepped down the walkway, addressing her kindly.
“Good evening ma’am! I’m Gist, the first mate.” She huffed a laugh, waving a hand.
“Oh please, I’m no ma’am yet.” He laughed, then inquired,
“Why are you looking for a ride to another port?” Tipping her head side to side, she answered vaguely,
“A few of the women here aren’t too particularly fond of me.” Gist cocked an eyebrow and she added, “Singing in the taverns earns good money, but it keeps husbands out late. I’ve been…politely asked to leave the city.” He seemed to grasp the situation because he said,
“I’m sure the captain would be more than happy to offer you passage, but he’s not here right now.” A frown crossed her lips and she went silent for a moment, then asked,
“I can always find another ship to travel on…but…” She drew her eyes to the sailors who seemed to be captivated by her; a smirk crossed her face as an idea popped into her head and she called, “I’d be more than happy to sing a few songs in exchange for a few pounds!” The men cheered and she looked back at Gist, quipping, “What do you say, first mate? Will you let me sing a few songs before the night sky appears?” He seemed to struggle with agreeing, but with the sight of her hands clasped in front of her, a mock pout on her lips, he let out a sigh and gestured for her to climb aboard. With a smile and the many cheers of the crew, she did.
Some Time Later:
The two men stepped in sync, a quiet conversation passing between them. “I find it hard to believe that your father was the great Edward Kenway, Master Haytham.” The other man let out a hum, eyes cautiously scanning the road in front of them.
“Why is that Shay?” The Irishman snorted, tossing him a side glance.
“You seem too proper to be the son of one of the greatest pirates alive.”
“I do wonder quite often if you think of the words that come from your mouth.”
“I mean no offense of course…it’s just…the stories.” He raised his hands into the air. “Sailing the seas finding treasure and fighting mighty battles!” Shay looked at him. “You almost seem uncomfortable when you get on ships.” Haytham said nothing, stopping in his tracks, and for a moment, Shay feared he’d said the wrong thing. “Sir?” The grandmaster nodded to the pier, inquiring,
“Did your crew plan a festival while we were gone?” The hunter cocked an eyebrow, turning his gaze to the ship; his eyes widened as he caught sight of the crew singing merrily, dancing and drinking.
“Ah Christ…what now?” The two shared a look before striding to the ship and up the walkway, but they stopped when they learned what was causing such merriment. Gist twirled a young woman around and she held the side of her flowy, crimson dress as she sang,
“Stay a while and we’ll dance together now as the light is falling! We’ll reel away till the break of day and dance together till morning!” Shay felt as though he’d been shot straight in the chest, the sight of her beauty taking his breath away. Her voice rose as she spun, but she sounded like an angel, the joy on her face practically heaven as she moved to another sailor, grinning as the crew sang with her, “Téir abhaile riú, téir abhaile riú, téir abhaile riú Mhearai! Téir abhail gus fan s abhaile, mar tá do mhargadh déanta!” She twisted once more into another sailor’s arms and he danced with her. “Téir abhaile riú, téir abhaile riú, téir abhaile riú Mhearai! Téir abhail gus fan sa bhaile, mar tá do mhargadh déanta, do Mhargadh de-!” She pulled away from the sailor’s arms, twirling in the middle of the circle of them, arms outstretched as she finished powerfully, “Do mhargadh déanta!” She slammed the heel of her boot into the ground as she ended, and cheers rippled through the crew as she took a bow, a mile-long grin stretched across her face. As she stood, the cheers suddenly died, every sailor blanching as they stood straight, and with a confused expression, she turned, immediately met with the sight of the two templars on the deck; Gist stepped forward, hurriedly explaining,
“Uh, Captain Cormac, we can explain!” Shay waved a hand, crossing his arms over his chest as he inquired,
“And who might you be, lass?” She cleared her throat as she smoothed the front of her dress, then held out a hand as she introduced herself.
“(Y/N) (L/N)…you must be the captain then.” He glanced at her hand before shifting his arms, and to her surprise, he took her hand in his, gently pressing a kiss to her knuckles, murmuring,
“I am. Shay Cormac, at your service, lass.” (Y/N) let out a flustered laugh as she took her hand back, pressing it to her middle as he said, “What brings you aboard the Morrigan…besides turning my crew into a bunch of drunken, singing louts?” She let out a laugh, retorting,
“Well, part of that was my fault, drink and folk songs always make a crowd rowdy. I’m looking for passage to another port that’s not in New York.” (Y/N) gestured to Gist. “Mister Gist was kind enough to let me sing a few songs in exchange for a few pounds.” Shay cocked an eyebrow, leaning against the railing as he asked,
“Why aren’t you singing in a tavern?” The same expression she wore when she told Gist the reason returned and she quickly said,
“Making money in taverns is great, but many of the wives of the men who I sing for don’t particularly think so.” She cringed slightly, adding, “They complained about me to the ministers of the town…I was…strongly encouraged to leave New York.” Shay nodded with understanding.
“I see.” Something in his expression shifted, and (Y/N) was quick to reason,
“If you’ll give me passage to another port, I’ll pay.” He observed her for a moment, then countered,
“How ‘bout I make you a deal?” She nodded, partially curious, the other part suspicious, and he offered, “I’ll give you free passage to any port we stop at for the next month, and all you have to do is perform songs for us.” Her jaw went slack, and she spluttered,
“Y-you…you’re joking?” He shook his head. “You’ll give me free passage? And all I have to do is be entertainment?” He nodded, and for a moment, she didn’t speak, then she queried, “What’s the catch?” Shay chuckled, coffee eyes meeting hers as he retorted,
“No catch, just a few songs to keep us entertained.” He could see the doubt in her eyes, and he vowed, “If you’re worried about any of the men, there’s no need. Each and every man here is the honorable sort-no one will lay a hand on you without your say so.” He drew his eyes to the crew, adding, “And if they found themselves brave enough to do so, they’d deal with me.” (Y/N) observed him for a moment, then she held out her hand, and Shay watched as one of the sailors handed her her bag, and she quipped,
“I hope you’re not expecting me to sleep in the crew cabins, Captain Cormac. I might be an entertainer, but I do have standards.” Shay snorted, offering his arm to her, and she took it, letting him lead her to the grate that led below deck.
“Of course not Miss (Y/N). We’ll have an officer’s room set up for you to stay in.” She hummed and he added, “And please, call me Shay.” (Y/N) giggled as they disappeared below deck, and Gist walked over to Haytham, listening as he sighed,
“Fantastic…now he’s going to be occupied with her.” Gist snorted, eyeing the grandmaster.
“You say that sir…but you were just as captivated as Shay was.” Haytham cocked an eyebrow, an underlying threat in his question.
“I beg your pardon?” The first mate chuckled, walking off.
“Nothing sir, absolutely nothing at all.” Gist waved a hand, addressing, “Alright, the lot of you get back to work! Just because we’ve got a woman aboard doesn’t mean you’re being cut any slack!” The men groaned as they headed to work.