The Jackdaw

Chapter 11: Bad Luck

The tent Reynolds gave you both was small but it was feasible between two people. Sleeping on the cold ground was something all too familiar for you. The life of a thief was never luxurious and only on the best days did you splurge to rent out a tavern room. Taverns were prime spots for getting caught or being the unfortunate target of another thief.

So, you couldn't quite understand why sleeping tonight was agonizingly difficult as you lied there curled up on your side.

Edward slept quietly behind you, his snores were soft, breathy whispers. Every now and then you'd hear him shift positions. One or twice throughout the night the back of his hand found your arm, caressing the skin tenderly before falling away as if he were checking to make sure you were still with him.

Or maybe you really did know what was keeping you up. The memories of your childhood were right there on the edge of your thoughts. You hadn't thought about your parents in years. For very good reason. But the moment Edward said those words, the way he was sort of using them, reminded you suddenly of your mother.

"I love you," she would say sweetly, weaving you into her game. "I'm doing this for you."

You bowed your head and pressed fingertips between your brows. Not tonight, you told yourself. You would push those thoughts back into the box you put them in. Tonight was already overwhelming for you. Just knowing that Edward loved you left you with the uneasy notion that everyone who ever claimed to love you, used you.

You finally couldn't take it anymore. You resigned yourself to the notion of knocking back a few mugs of ale might knock you out for the night. You sat up and moved towards the tent's flap but Edward's large, rough hand snapped hold of your wrist.

Edward spoke softly, still gripped with sleep, but something bitter lingered in his tone, "Not trying to sneak away, are you?"

"I can't sleep."

"I can see that," he muttered, not even a fraction of his usual smile. "Where were you going to go?"

Your thoughts began to swirl again. He's controlling, you told yourself. Just like your parents. Love always came with strings attached.

"I need a drink," you retorted, snatching your hand out of his.

"It's nearly morning. You can grab your drink when we're safely back on the ship." He patted the space next to him and you couldn't tell if it was an order or an invitation. He finally added weakly, "Please."

You laid back down beside all while analyzing his expression.

His arm curled up around you, fingers resting on your hip. He even went as far as lifting up some of the cloth to let his fingertips pet the small bit of exposed skin. "Thank you, love."

You tried to push the anxiety away. He wasn't controlling, you argued with yourself, but the fear still hovered in the back of your thoughts. You buried your face into his chest, desperate to find some solace in his warmth.

Edward's arms pulled you closer. He pressed his lips into the bend of your neck and sighed. 

You let his warmth envelop you and his scent intoxicate you until you were finally able to sleep.

It wasn't even dawn when the soldiers outside woke you. They were packing up camp, barking orders, and checking inventory. Edward and you helped them clear out then joined Reynolds on the quarter-deck of his ship. The two captains were happy to discuss nautical things while sailing into the open ocean.

"The Jackdaw, Captain." His quartermaster approached and handed over the spyglass.

Reynold peered out at sea, used the spyglass, and confirmed the information. "The two of you are nearly home, Captain Kenway."