#CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC

[rogaire-a]

Far from prying eyes, Shay sits alone. The cold pinches at his skin,  but as lost in his thoughts as he was, the frigid air hardly bothers him. It's the last of his problems. He has come out there hoping to find a way to cool down his boiling spirit. He's always found some sort of peace in frozen landscapes,  but this time he fears it will take a lot more than the sight of a few frozen trees to calm himself down...  

// OPEN.

#OPEN // INTERACTION #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( no talk he angy #idk have this random open ig :^) #can be set in any verse tbh )

[searchingwardrobes]

This Girl Ain’t Going Anywhere: 1/2

Here it is – the fic I’ve been working on for @katie-dub's birthday! Darling, I hope you had a fantastic day! I know this is even later than I had promised because it’s past midnight now where you are, but this one just kind of got away from me. I realized when I hit 6,000 words that it was going to have to be a two-parter. But I still refuse to have another WIP – I won’t be working on anything else until I finish part two. I cannot handle one more WIP – you hear me muse?!?

Anyways, for those of you who don’t know @katie-dub, she is an incredibly talented writer who achieves one of the hardest things in my opinion – humor. I laugh so much when I read her fics! Yet she also tugs at my heart strings. She also was sweet enough to chat with me during my mini-crisis while writing my csbb when my beta @distant-rose introduced us. We just talked about our kids, which always puts things in perspective! Thank you for taking the time to reach out to me, sweetie, it meant so much! Anyways, I hope you like this Enchanted Forest AU in which Liam Jones is very much alive and a pirate along with his brother. Part Two will be coming soon, I promise!

Summary: The Brothers Jones have built a reputation as the most feared pirates in all the realms. When they hear of the bounty on the heads of two princesses - The Princess of Fire and the Princess of Ice – they don’t hesitate to set sail on the Jolly Roger to hunt them down. But have the Brothers Jones finally met their match?

Rating: T

Also on Ao3 and part of my Fandom Birthday Playlist

Tagging the usuals: @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @winterbaby89 @jennjenn615 @teamhook @bethacaciakay @snidgetsafan @kday426 @delirious-latenight-laughs @let-it-raines @xhookswenchx @optomisticgirl  @welllpthisishappening @wellhellotragic

I've been a winding road, oh, I know you know. Sometimes a stranger in my home. Keep going back and forth through the open door. I'm still learning to be still. This girl ain’t going anywhere. I can promise you this, now I know for sure. This girl ain’t going anywhere.

 Captain Liam Jones stood at the bow of the Jolly Roger, his hands clasped behind his back. His first mate, Killian Jones, approached him with a confident stride. He took his place beside his brother, his own shoulders back, his own hands clasped behind his back. The younger Jones fit the look of a pirate with his long leather coat, his crimson vest, the kohl around his eyes, the charms resting against his chest, and the piercings in his earlobes. Liam Jones, on the other hand, was dressed more simply. Still all in black, but his pants weren’t the tight leather of his brother’s and his shirt was of a simple muslin. A rapier left over from his naval days hung at his hip rather than the cutlass his brother carried.

“The crew have their orders, Captain,” Killian told his brother formally, still gazing out at sea, “we should arrive at the Misthaven port in a fortnight.”

“We aren’t navy anymore, little brother, there’s no need to be so formal.”

“Younger brother,” Killian corrected automatically, turning to study his brother’s profile, “but this particular venture brings those days back to the forefront, do they not?”

The piercing look Liam gave him communicated more than words that he didn’t wish to discuss it further. The two brothers‘ conversation was cut short anyway as a nervous, portly man rushed towards them, twisting his red knit cap in his hands.

“Beg your pardon, Cap’n,” Mr. Smee stuttered, “but the rest of the crew asked me to ask you . . . “

Liam sighed and rolled his eyes, “Spit it out, bos’un.”

“Doesn’t this job seem a little . . . dangerous?”

“Dangerous?” Killian snapped, striding into the man’s personal space. “Are we or are we not pirates, Smee? Danger is what we live for.”

“Um . . . yes, sir, it’s just . . . witch’s? One that can wield fire? I mean, a ship is made of wood -”

“The Jolly Roger is made of enchanted wood,” Liam snapped in defense of his ship.

“But is she fireproof, C-Cap'n?” Smee asked hesitantly. His cap was now damp in his sweaty palms.

“The Princess of Fire and the Princess of Ice is what they call them,” Liam replied, striding away from Smee as if dismissing his concerns completely, “not witches.”

Smee looked nervously at the younger Jones, not sure how this was supposed to ease the crew’s fears.

“Remind the crew of the bounty being offered on these two women by half the kingdoms in the realm,” Killian told him, “and if they question their captain’s orders again, walking the bloody plank will be their lot.”

Smee swallowed and replaced his cap on his head with shaking hands. “Y-yes sir.” He hurried away from the Brothers Jones.

Killian watched as Liam’s shoulders sagged and his chin dropped to his chest. Princess Emma of Misthaven had fled her kingdom after supposedly injuring her younger brother, Prince Leopold. Princess Elsa of Arendelle had likewise been supposedly banished after her ice magic erupted dangerously at her sister’s engagement ball. While Misthaven and Arendelle wanted their crown princesses unharmed, naturally, the rest of the realm was in a panic at what magic-wielding royals could do. In short, they were on the brink of war.

“Do you really think they’re together?” Killian asked softly.

“Aye, I do,” Liam said, his jaw clenching and his eyes flashing, “they were together often in their youth. Like sisters, everyone said.”

“Yes,” Killian said softly, leaving the obvious unsaid, “like sisters.”

********************************************************

The port of Misthaven was normally a difficult one for pirates. Queen Snow and King David were passionate about the safety of their people and brought swift judgment on anyone who threatened it. Yet with Camelot, Agrabah, Glowerhaven, and several other kingdoms mounting possible military might against them, Misthaven was too busy to think about pirates. Liam and Killian were free to scour the taverns and markets for any gossip that might lead them to Princess Emma’s hiding place while their crew restocked the ship. Yet their search for information led them to one dead end after another, and they ended the day back on the Jolly Roger unsure of what their next move should be. Blessedly, the answers they sought came to them.

“Permission to board!” a hooded figure called out. It was clearly a woman, and a young one at that, judging by her high, sweet voice.

“Maybe you should let me talk,” said a taller, broader figure at her side, also cloaked.

“I was taught to negotiate in the palace,” the first one hissed, “so let me do this.”

Killian and Liam exchanged knowing smiles.

“Permission granted,” Liam told her, then waited until she had stepped off the gangplank to add, “Princess Anna.”

The young woman gasped at first, then backpedaled. “What do you mean? I’m no princess, my name is . . . Joan.”

“Mhm,” Liam chuckled, then nodded at his brother with an unspoken order.

Killian sauntered to the young woman, ignoring the way her male companion stepped slightly in front of her protectively. He reached over the man’s shoulder and pushed the hood off Anna’s head.

“I see you’re still wearing your hair in braids,” Killian smirked, “just like when you were twelve and peeking around the columns while your sister danced with the naval officers.”

Anna’s eyes grew wide as she glanced between the two pirates. “So the rumors are true! You used to be in King George’s navy, and this ship used to be The Jewel of the Realm!”

“Aye,” Liam told her, “so what can we do for you, princess?”

Anna squared her shoulders. “We heard you asking around about Princess Emma’s whereabouts, and like you, I believe she and my sister are together. I also think I know where to look first. We know the bounty the other kingdoms are offering for their capture. We offer double to bring them home safely instead.” She pulled out a purple velvet pouch and tossed it to the ships’s deck. Gold coins spilled out. “That’s an advance – it's only ten percent of what you’ll get if you complete the mission.”

Killian knew what his brother would say, even as Liam pretended to think, weighing the coins in his hand. “I suppose twice the gold would be worth it,” the elder Jones finally answered, “but let me be clear, princess, this is a pirate ship. We take orders from no crown.”

“I understand,” Anna said with a tilt of her chin, “but I must demand that we go with you. In order to ensure my sister’s safety. Otherwise, we won’t share the information we have.”

“Demand?” Liam bit out, striding into Anna’s personal space.

Killian was impressed that the girl didn’t back down. Her companion – Killian wondered if it was her fiancé - lifted a placating hand.

“We will submit to your authority on this ship, Captain Jones,” the young man said with surprising diplomacy, “but we might need to set sail sooner rather than later?”

“Why is that?” Liam snapped.

“Because of the Camelot knights who recognized us in the market.” The man pushed his own hood back, and sure enough, it was the commoner Kristoff who had won the young princess’s heart.

Liam’s eyes widened, and he quickly turned to bark commands at his crew. Killian strode forward and jabbed a finger in the faces of their new passengers. “Get below deck and out of sight until we say otherwise,” he bit out. Damn royalty.

***********************************************

Killian was at the helm, and they were heading for Avra – one of the lonely islands. Anna had told them that her sister had written of the place in her journal. A sorcerer was rumored to live there who could “cure” those cursed with magic.

The stars twinkled overhead, and the rest of the crew as well as their guests had already turned in for the night. Killian was in no rush to lay on the floor of the captain’s quarters. It wasn’t that he minded giving up his own quarters for Princess Anna. He had endured worse sleeping arrangements duiring his days of servitude. It was the memories he knew would plague him as he waited for sleep to come. He wondered how long Liam would pore over the charts and maps littering his desk to avoid the exact same thing.

The quiet of the night was shattered by shouts. Killian’s eyes widened as members of the crew dragged a boy up to the top deck. The lad kicked and twisted in attempts to get free before being thrust at Killian’s feet.

“We found a stowaway,” Smee explained.

Killian frowned down at the boy. “I can see that. Why did you not take him to my brother?”

“We tried, he . . . uh . . wasn’t in the mood to be disturbed.”

Killian sighed and ran a hand down his face. “What’s your name, boy?”

“Murderer,” the child screamed, lunging for the pirate.

Killian just smiled in amusement as the crew held the boy back. “You have spunk, lad.” He leaned closer. “You’re right that I’m a murderer. I am a pirate, after all.”

“I won’t let you kill my mother!”

Killian’s jaw dropped. He scrutinized the boy’s face. “Why do you think I’m plotting to kill your mother?”

“Like you said, you’re a pirate. You’re hunting my mother for the bounty on her head.”

“And your mother would be . . . “

“Princess Emma.”

Killian blinked and shook his head. “The princess is unwed, she has no son.”

“A woman can have a child without a husband. Even I know that, and I’m only eight.”

Killian would have chuckled if the news hadn’t thrown him. He regarded the child quizzically as he rubbed his chin. He waved off the rest of the crew, and they headed silently below deck.

“When did you sneak aboard the Jolly?”

“As soon as you and the captain left. I’m small, so no one noticed.”

“Well then,” Killian told him with a smile and a slap to the shoulder, “you missed the big news. Princess Anna of Arendelle offered us twice the reward to help bring her sister and your mother home safely.”

Killian had to bite his cheek to hold back another chuckle as the boy regarded him suspiciously.

“Seriously?”

Killian arched a brow and pointed over the child’s shoulder. “Princess Anna is in my quarters. Do you wish to wake her and question her?”

“Um . . . no. I guess you wouldn’t make that up.

“What’s your name?”

“Henry.”

“And what exactly was your plan when you stowed away on a pirate ship, Henry? Fight us all for your mother?”

“If I had to,” Henry declared, sticking out his chest. Then he quickly deflated. “It’s my fault she ran away. She was afraid she’d hurt me.”

“Like she hurt Prince Leopold?”

Henry shook his head. “She didn’t hurt Prince Leo . . . she hurt me – but it was an accident!” He hurriedly defended his mother, his love for her clear in his tone.

Killian paced the deck, trying to reconcile things in his mind. “But I don’t understand. Prince Leo is still a boy himself, and yet you -”

“I’ve been hidden away,” the young prince explained. “and the math shouldn’t be that hard. You’re a sailor, aren’t you?”

Killian couldn’t hold back the chuckle this time. “Sarcastic like your mother, I see.”

Henry tilted his head. “You knew her?”

Killian waved a hand in front of him. “Only in the way I knew any royalty. From balls when I was a naval officer, diplomatic functions, that sort of thing. Your mother’s sharp wit was legendary.”

“Well, if you were in the navy, do the math. My Uncle Leo is 13, mom was 12 when he was born. Five years later, she had me.”

“At 17 . . . “ Killian’s voice trailed off. He shook his head to clear it. “And your father?”

“His name was Baelfire. That’s all I know. And that he’s gone.”

“Gone?”

“Died.” Henry shrugged as if it were just a fact. Clearly he never knew the man.

“And why have they hidden you away?”

“Like you said, Mother isn’t married. She never was.” The boy arched a brow at Killian’s

surprised expression. “What? Adults always assume that kids aren’t listening.”

Killian laughed and dropped a hand to the boy’s shoulder and squeezed affectionately. “I like

you already Henry. I believe a pirate’s life will suit you just fine.”

************************************************

Prince Henry was not at all like Killian would imagine a sheltered royal to be. He was full of awe and excitement about being at sea, not even frightened when the waves got rough. He also wasn’t afraid of hard work or learning things outside of his comfort zone, eagerly throwing himself amongst the crew and asking how he could help. He seemed drawn to Killian especially, asking him to teach him sailor’s knots and how to handle a sword like a pirate. He had obviously received training already on the latter, but his style of fighting was too refined and fair in Killian’s opinion.

“Your enemy will not follow the rules of engagement,” Killian told the boy, “so you must be willing to fight dirty in return.”

“How do you think his mother will feel about that?” Anna asked, arms crossed.

“She’ll thank me if it saves his life,” Killian snapped.

Figuring out where the boy would bunk was a problem. He and Liam were hesitant to let him sleep with the rest of the men in the crew’s quarters, even with Kristoff there, and it certainly wasn’t appropriate for him to stay with Killian and Liam. They finally decided it was best for Henry to bunk with Anna in the first mate’s cabin, cramped though it was. She was like an aunt to the boy, after all. Though if Killian had known how inquisitive the young prince was, he might have been a bit more careful about the belongings in his quarters.

“What is this?” Henry screamed one bright morning as he come above deck.

Killian turned from where he was checking the ship’s heading to find the boy trembling all over, red in the face and waving a piece of parchment. When Henry got close enough, he shoved it at Killian’s chest. The charcoal drawing had the air rushing from Killian’s lungs.

“That’s my mother!” Henry shouted, fisting both hands.

“I - I can explain -”

“Explain how you lied to me? I asked if you knew her!”

Killian sighed as he rubbed his forehead wearily. He was caught in a half truth, and there was no sense digging himself deeper with more lies. He looked down at the drawing, his thumb rubbing over the note sketched there in Emma’s handwriting.

“My dear lieutenant, when you sail away tomorrow, know that you take my heart with you. Love, Your Emma.”

He couldn’t help smiling remembering the sweet innocence of their love. How naïve they had been to think that fate would smile on them! Although, maybe it would have, if Killian had remained an honorable lieutenant and not turned pirate.

“Your mother loved me once,” he told Henry softly. “We were still children, really. She was but sixteen, and I was eighteen. We met at a ball. Your mother was irritated with her boring suitors, and basically threatened me to ask her to dance. To put her out of her misery, she said.’

Killian chuckled at the memory, settling on a crate, his eyes still fixed on the picture. Henry’s fists loosened, and his shoulders lowered. Killian kept talking, hoping the boy could hear the admiration in his voice.

“That one dance turned into many more. It was scandalous really for a mere naval lieutenant to monopolize the princess’s dance card. We shared our first kiss on a balcony hidden away from the rest of the crowd as fireworks burst in the air. It was your mother’s sixteenth birthday, you see.”

Henry deflated more, and sat on the crate next to Killian. “When did she give you the picture?”

“I drew it,” Killian told him. “King George was there for several weeks in negotiations to prevent war with Misthaven. Liam and I were part of his naval escort. Your mother and I spent much of that time together. We were having a picnic on the beach when I drew that. She gave it back to me before I left with that note scrawled on it.”

“But I don’t understand,” Henry muttered, “she had me a year later. You’re not -”

“No, Henry,” Killian told him with a clap to his shoulder, “though I would be honored to be your father. You are a bright lad. But my relationship with your mother was completely innocent.”

“But if she loved you so much, why was she ever with my father?”

Killian rubbed at his jaw, knowing he had to tread lightly. “That is a question for your mother, I’m afraid. I wrote to her after I left, but then the war started, and -”

“You turned pirate,” a trembling voice behind them finished.

Killian turned around, shocked to see Princess Anna standing there, her face pale. Her gaze cut from Killian and up to Liam, who had come down from the upper deck at some point as Killian had told his tale.

“Picnics on the beach, dancing at Emma’s ball with navy men,” Anna said in a trembling voice, “I may have only been twelve, but I remember it all now. You were the brothers who wooed my sister and her best friend. The ones who left them heartbroken.”

Liam’s head hung in shame. “I can’t speak for my brother, but I tried very hard not to fall in love with Elsa. I simply couldn’t help myself. It was so easy to get swept away and pretend that there could be a future for us. I was puffed up with pride, having just been made captain. The youngest to receive that honor at just twenty-two. But I should have known better, my brother and I both. They were crown princesses, destined for the throne.”

“But Grandpa was just a shepherd!” Henry argued.

Killian chuckled. “That’s what your mother said.”

“But he wasn’t a pirate,” Anna bit out, “do you know the nights my sister cried herself to sleep when word came that you had mutinied? Even then she clung to hope that you weren’t a cad, that you had your reasons, but then she never heard from you again!”

“How could I?” Liam shouted back. “If a naval captain had little chance, a pirate captain had none at all!”

“She gave you everything!” Anna shouted, shoving him in the chest.

Killian’s jaw dropped. Every member of the crew had frozen in place, the princess’s words like a thunderclap. Liam’s jaw clenched as he gazed down at Anna in silence.

“Do not speak to the captain of this ship in such a tone,” he seethed, “I told you, we bow to no crown.”

Anna lifted her hand, but before she could slap him, Liam grabbed her by the wrist. Kristoff shouted in anger, and Killian grabbed him by the shoulders before he could lunge at Liam and make things worse.

“I would think long and hard before you try and strike me again,” Liam warned. Then he barked at the crew to get back to work and marched below deck.

Anna crumpled to her knees, and Kristoff was immediately at her side. Killian went to follow his brother, but Anna reached up and grasped his arm to stop him.

“I didn’t mean to lose it like that,” she apologized. “I was so young. I didn’t understand why Elsa fell apart the way she did. It was only reading her journal after she was banished by my parents that I fully understood.” Anna released a slow breath. “She loved him. So much.”

All Killian could do was nod before going below deck. He felt his own anger well up as he shoved the door to his brother’s quarters open.

“And to think the entire time I was with Emma, I used your virtue as a plumb line,” Killian snapped. “Is what Anna said true?”

Liam collapsed onto his bunk, his head dropping to his hands. “God help me, it is. We had one night together before I left, and I like a fool promised her the world.”

Killian was at a loss as to what to say. There was a knock at the door, and Liam surged to his feet.

“Come in.”

The door swung open, and Anna and Henry stood there, faces hesitant.

“We were talking,” Anna said, her fingers twisting, “and we realized something.”

Henry jumped in. “You were never going after the bounty, were you? You were trying to protect them all along.”

The lines creasing Liam’s forehead relaxed. “Aye, lad, we were hoping to find them before anyone else did. We just couldn’t let our crew know that.”

Anna and Henry exchanged glances.

“Okay, then,” Anna said with a nod. “Good to know we’re all on the same page.”

The concerned sister and the worried son turned to go. Liam called out after them.

“We are still getting that reward, right?” he asked with a roguish grin. “I mean if a pirate can’t hope to marry a crown princess, he’s gotta make a living somehow.”

Anna quirked a smile in return. “We’ll wait and see how it all pans out. After all, I’m marrying an ice harvester.”

Henry walked over and gently placed the parchment he had found in Killian’s hand. “You dropped this.”

Killian looked down into the smiling face of Emma at sixteen, eyes bright and without a care in the world. Had she changed as much as he had? Had her innocence taken as severe a beating? He feared it was so, especially considering the strange circumstances of Henry’s birth.

“Thank you, lad. I’ll take better care of it from now on.”

“Good,” Henry told him simply, and he looked and sounded so much like his mother in that moment, that Killian’s heart ached.

************************************************

A thick mist surrounded the Jolly as they approached Avra, and the eerie quiet had the entire crew on edge.

They kept their heading, hoping there were no rocks or reefs. Killian looked through his spy glass, but the mist had turned to a thick fog.

“We may need to lay anchor until this fog lifts,” he told his brother as he pocketed the tool.

“I don’t think it’s the weather,” Liam told him quietly, “there’s something unnatural going on here.”

The words were barely out of Liam’s mouth when a haunting melody split the air. The brothers exchanged alarmed glances.

“Mermaids,” they both muttered.

“Bloody hell,” Killian bit out.

Liam began shouting orders to the crew to arm themselves and get to the railing. The melody ceased abruptly, and every person on board held their breath in the sudden silence.

It didn’t last long. Suddenly the ship was being hit from all sides, causing the Jolly to pitch from one side to the other. The mermaids let out piercing cries that split the air and frayed the nerves. The men shot their pistols, threw harpoons, or attempted to capture mermaids in weighted nets, but the aquatic army eluded all of them.

Anna rushed to the railing, squinting her eyes to try and see into the gloom. Kristoff shouted for her to get back as he pulled up yet another empty net. Anna ignored him and leaned forward, shouting her sister’s name. Henry joined her, shouting, “Mom! Mom, are you out there?”

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?” Killian shouted at them, tossing aside his pistol and reaching for the boy. The ship rocked, and Killian grasped at empty air as Henry was flung overboard.

“Henry!” he screamed, hurriedly shedding his leather duster.

Before Killian could jump in after him, a head of bright red hair broke the surface of the water, and in the mermaid’s arms was Henry. Just as quickly as it had begun, the mermaids’ assault ended. The mist cleared, the sun shone, and an army of glittering tails swam away from the pirate ship.

The red-headed mermaid took the rope that had been tossed to her and tied it around Henry’s waist. Killian hoisted him up, and thankfully the boy only had to cough a few times in order to fully recover. Thanks to his rescuer, he had only been under for a moment or two. Killian grasped him by both shoulders, his heart still pounding.

“Are you okay?”

“Yes,” Henry gasped, “thanks to her.”

The boy pointed, and Killian turned to see the mermaid with red hair standing on the deck of the Jolly Roger. At least he had thought she was a mermaid -

“Queen Ariel!” Anna cried, rushing to embrace her.

Realizing who she was, the crew of the Jolly sank immediately to one knee, head bowed and caps off except for he and Liam. So much for bowing to no crown. He knew his crew were still shaken by the mermaid attack, but did they have no self-respect? Liam seemed to agree, walking amongst his crew and smacking them on the head to get the bloody hell off their knees.

“My men,” Liam explained, striding with confidence to the mermaid queen, “will not bow to a creature who sends many a sailor to a watery grave.”

When the mermaid spoke, it was with a surprisingly sweet and innocent voice. “I don’t send anyone to a watery grave.” She used air quotes around the later. “Pirates are so melodramatic. The attack on your ship was merely for defense. When I realized who was on board, I immediately called it off.”

Anna gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “Defense? Are you defending my sister and Emma? Do you know where they are?” She bounced up and down on her heels, shaking Ariel by the arm a little.

Whether it was because she was another royal or because it was Ariel’s personality, the queen merely smiled at the other woman. “Yes.”

Anna threw her arms around the mermaid, but Liam and Killian exchanged wary looks. Kristoff evidently shared their concerns.

“Um, I don’t mean to put a damper on things,” Anna’s fiancé spoke up, “but didn’t your husband King Eric put a bounty out on the two princesses just like every other kingdom?”

Ariel frowned. “My husband felt he had no choice. King George and King Arthur are always eager for war. Siding against them was dangerous, but my husband sent me out to try and get to Emma and Elsa before anyone could collect the bounty. As many people know, Queen Snow is a good friend of mine.”

“And the attack on our ship?” Killian demanded. “You almost killed Prince Henry!”

“You’re flying a pirate flag!” Ariel snapped. “I thought you were here to capture the pincesses for the bounty on their heads.”

“I think we can all agree we’re on the same team,” Anna spoke up diplomatically.

“Yeah,” Henry cried out, scrambling to his feet, “can you take me to my mom now?”

Ariel gently cupped Henry’s face. “Just land on Avra and follow the middlemist roses. It will take you straight to Merlin’s abode. As for me, I must search the seas for other bounty hunters.”

She kissed Henry gently on the forehead, and before anyone could even thank her, she dived back into the waves.

************************************************

Anna, Henry, and Killian picked their way through a barely noticeable path. When Ariel had said “follow the middlemist roses,” she had failed to mention how they would be almost hidden amongst braken and thorns. It was clear that only those who knew where to look could find the path to this sorcerer's domicile.

Liam and Kristoff had stayed behind on the Jolly Roger. For one, they didn’t want to overwhelm the princesses or give them cause for suspicion. For another, they didn’t completely trust the crew not to turn tail and run. No honor among thieves and all of that.

Killian could have stayed behind just as easily, of course, but he knew why his brother had given him the order to take the royals ashore. His brother could face a naval fleet, a rival pirate crew, or even a kraken. But the woman he had jilted? Liam Jones was terrified, and Killian couldn’t say that he blamed him.

On the other hand, Emma had been the one to cut ties with Killian. Going so far as to have a child with someone else. Killian whacked at a vine with more force than necessary. The thought hurt. Yet the alternative, that Emma had come to be with child against her will, made him physically ill and blind with rage.

“There it is,” Anna whispered, falling to her knees and grasping both Killian and Henry by the elbow. Killian cursed at his distracted mind. To be out-tracked by a naïve princess! He looked where she pointed and saw a simple yet homey cabin built into a cave. Its earthen walls were covered in moss and more middlemist roses.

“What are we waiting for?” Henry asked impatiently. “I want to see my mom.”

Killian laid a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “But remember, my boy, the last time she saw you she accidentally hurt you with her magic. You don’t want to startle her.”

“He’s right, Henry,” Anna agreed, “Elsa hurt me too. I don’t blame her, and I’m not afraid of her, but I think . . . I think she’s afraid of herself, and that fear may rise up again when she sees me.”

“I understand,” Henry mumbled sadly.

“Who’s there?” a voice called out to their right just as the branches of a tree above their heads burst into flames. “That was a warning.”

“Mom!” Henry shouted, and nothing Anna and Killian did or said could keep him from jumping up from the bushes and running towards his mother’s voice.

“Henry?” Emma’s voice at first was full of love, tenderness, and a touch of pleasant surprise.

Killian eased forward so he could see more clearly between the branches. He felt the blood rush from his head when he saw her, golden hair tumbling loose down her back and clad in a filmy white dress. It made her look ethereal, but for the haunted look in her eyes.

As Henry ran towards her, the expression on her face changed to one of panic. “Stay back!” she warned him.

The boy slowed down, but he didn’t stop moving towards her. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” she told him brokenly, tears beginning to roll down her face. “I love you so much, Henry, that’s why I had to go. To keep you safe.”

Henry took a few more steps forward, and the panic on her face increased. “Elsa!” she screamed.

“You’re afraid of hurting me, that’s the problem,” Henry continued, “just let the fear go.”

“It’s not that simple,” she told him, then once again yelled, “Elsa! Come quick! Henry, please stop and wait for Elsa.”

“Emma!” another voice shouted, and next to Killian, Anna gasped. He put a hand on the red-head's arm, and gave a slight shake of his head. Another blonde stepped out of the door of the cabin. “Emma, what’s going on -”

Emma didn’t look at her friend, but simply extended her arm. “Take my hand before I hurt him,” she practically begged.

Killian peered at Emma closely through the brush and noticed something for the first time. Emma’s hands were glowing and tiny flames danced along her fingertips. Elsa reached out towards her friend, her own hand blue and frosted over. When fire met ice, both women’s hands became mere flesh once again, and they both let out sighs of relief.

“Henry,” Emma said to her son, with a genuine smile on her face, her free arm outstretched.

Henry beamed and rushed forward, colliding with his mother and wrapping his arms around her waist. Emma embraced him with one arm, bending to kiss the top of his head, but her other hand remained firmly clasped in Elsa’s.

Anna practically trembled beside him before bursting from her hiding place and racing towards her sister. Elsa gasped her name, and when Anna reached her, she let go of Emma’s hand so the two sisters could hold each other in a tight embrace. Killian worried that their magic would flare again, but Emma seemed completely relaxed as she wrapped her other arm tighter around her son. Then she stepped back, tears marring her cheeks, cupping Henry’s face in her hands.

“I missed you.”

“I missed you too, Mom.”

“What just happened?” Anna asked. “When you held hands -”

“It’s something the sorcerer Merlin taught us,” Elsa explained. “When our powers mingle, they cancel one another out.”

“But It’s only temporary,” Emma added, “our quest is far from over.”

“Although I don’t know how we’ll reach our next destination. It’s in a distant land, far from the Lonely Islands,” Elsa said.

“We can help! We can finish your quest with you!” Henry shouted excitedly.

Killian closed his eyes. Please don’t say it, please don’t . . .

“Liam and Killian have a ship!”

Killian winced. So much for easing Emma and Elsa into things. He rose from his hiding place, and for some reason he couldn’t even explain, he slipped into his pirate persona. He swaggered towards the princesses, cocky smirk in place. He even winked as Emma’s jaw dropped and her face went pale.

“Killian?” she gasped.

He tilted his head teasingly and quirked a brow. “Did you miss me?”

#cs ff #enchanted forest au #brothers jones #frozen jewel #fandom birthday playlist #for katie-dub #not on but for her birthday :)

[jessipalooza]

Captain on Deck

In all her years - one hundred and twenty-five or so - Esme could not remember the last time she shed a tear, and yet she felt the hot sting threaten her. There she stood, on the docks of Shallowbrook rather than Sundial. She was not there to speak to crews and watch other captains in the Crimson Fleet depart. She was not there to bid farewell to Lucien as he took the Bloody Lily out while she remained. She was not there to watch Trinivar take the Widow’s Bane to hunt down one of the many treasures she had tracked down. She was not there to torture herself with false promises of the sea, but hard truths of remaining on land.

No, she stood on the docks with less than an hour to go before she set sail. Her heart raced in her chest with excitement for the familiar. The salt in the air filled her nose, filled her lungs, engulfed her. The crash of waves, the cry of gulls, the crew - her crew - shouting orders to one another to prepare...it was a symphony to her ears.

Esme was so busy taking in the reality of her situation that she had not realized Trinivar at her side. For once, the gruff man hid a smile beneath his overgrown beard, even if it did not show in his voice.

“Lookin’ like you’ve got your head up in the clouds, Cap’n.”

Esme took in a sharp breath, stirred from her emotional solitude. With a glance to Trinivar, a rare and small smile pressed to her lips. She cleared her throat and shook her head as she spoke quietly to her trusted second. “Hardly. I have never been more here. Ready. I have been preparing for this day for a year.”

“You’re not meant for the land.”

“No. No, I do not suppose I am.”

The two exchanged rare smiles once more. It felt a though they had never smiled so much, felt so light, so ready, so excited. Of course, they were not going for a joy ride at all. They were going to sail for blood, to finish Esme’s work little by little.

“You’re sure that land of yours’ll be alright while you’re gone?” Trinivar asked with a teasing tone to his voice.

Esme scoffed. “Embertree is finally cleansed. People are moving in faster than they were before. And those that helped save the land are settling in, all in the corners. It will have never been safer. Faervell is comfortable as well. Whatever needs my attention while I am at sea, he knows how to manage.”

Trinivar’s gaze slid to Esme briefly. He watched her for a moment. There was a time when he would argue or make a snide comment against the felmancer. He never did approve of her decision to place trust in him. He had made it clear that he thought Faervell was a distraction.

But no argument came. Rather, he nodded and reached over to tentatively place a rough, callused hand on Esme’s shoulder.

She turned to Trinivar, understanding the silent acceptance well enough. She reached up to place her own hand over his and took in a deep breath.

“Are you ready?”

“Been ready and waitin’ for you for quite some time now, Cap’n.”

As the two offered small, secret smiles to one another once more, Trinivar took in a deep breath and shouted over the banter of the crew.

“LOOK LIVELY, MEN! CAP’N ON DECK!”

Cheers. They cheered at the call. Esme felt something tug at her heart and she had to swallow it down before it swallowed her.

There was such a warmth that enveloped her as she climbed the gangplank. Her boots clicked against the wood deck. She nodded to the smiling faces of her men and to the tips of their hats. She waved aside the stray comments (Glad to have ya back, Cap’n - Good morn, Cap’n - Missed havin’ ya, Cap’n), but each one sent another strike through her heart.

For a woman that rejected the idea of ‘home’, she had returned to it. She was home.

Climbing up to the helm itself, she slid her hand along the polished wood. Each and every imperfection she knew by heart, and to see each and every one again…. She took in a deep and shuddering breath. To call the smile on her face rare would be a lie on that day. She smiled with the warmth that she felt and looked to the crew.

The lot of them had an understanding. Since the day she sat with them and told them of her truth, of her past, they held a bond. It was a bond she felt so strongly; a bond they all felt.

Her voice cut through the air, and settled into place like the missing piece of a puzzle that had been incomplete for far too long: “Alright, men! Do not just sit there and stare! We have work to do! Raise anchor and make way!”

The men never complained before, but work was work and neither did they celebrate. But with Esme’s order, the crew looked happy to have her sharp-as-daggers tone, and carried out their jobs without complaint and with a small jump in their step. It was only a matter of time before the anchor was cranked up, the ropes were pulled back, and the sails began to unfurl.

Arenaia, the helmsman, stood proudly beside Esme, relinquishing her position for as long as the captain needed. Esme was keenly aware of the other woman’s large grin, and though her cheeks began to burn a bright pink, she made no conscious motion to let Arenaia know of her awareness. Rather, she focused on coaxing the frigate out from Shallowbrook’s docks.

“The kid’ll be sorry he missed seeing you before you set off,” Trinivar said, climbing the ladder to take his place on Esme’s other side. He nodded to Arenaia, who gave the second a lazy salute first.

“Lucien?” Esme inquired. She did not need to. She knew who Trinivar met. Regardless of Lucien’s age, he was always referred to as a sort of child by Trinivar. Everyone was a child to him. “I will see him well enough when we return with the bounty. Perhaps we will even see him on the sea as we head out. The course is set for for Northrend, aye? Borean?”

Trinivar nodded. “Aye, Cap’n.”

He glanced up as calls regarding a ship coming into port along the portside reached his ears. So went the traffic of an anchorage, and Shallowbrook was starting to regain the business it once boasted.

“There was one good thing about you bein’ restless and landlocked; you did enough work on trackin’ these bastards down to last you a lifetime. We got it all planned out and ready.”

Esme’s lips pulled into yet another small smirk as she huffed. The sound was close to a laugh, close to a scoff, but not quite either. She took a breath, prepared to answer, but it all happened so fast. There was no time.

Another call of a ship coming up close.

A crack.

A number of cracks.

Thunder.

The whistle of cannons.

The ear-piercing explosions.

Splinters of wood.

Clouds of smoke and dust.

Shouts.

Screams.

A war horn.

Esme had instinctively crouched and she felt the collective weight of Trinivar and Arenaia, as both had shielded her. She pushed them off and raised herself to her feet. She shouted over the crew’s panicked and angry and pained cries, “We have barely left port! Have Kul Tirans--”

But the hypothesis was ripped from her before she could finish. Her face paled and her eyes grew wide.

Along the portside, at long range for fire, was the ship that had haunted her. It was the ship that had chased her, that had plagued her dreams and twisted them to nightmares, that had held her captive for nearly a century.

The White Widow.

She heard the faint shout to hurry their reload and Esme shook herself out of her shock and fear. As she hoisted herself to the railing, Arenaia took the helm and Trinivar rushed down to be with the men.

“TO ARMS!! READY THE CANNONS!! PIRATES ON THE PORT SIDE!! PREPARE TO TURN--”

She faltered. There was so much blood on the deck. Gods, there was so much blood. They had been caught unawares in their home port. Many of her men were wounded. Feilyn. Octavia. Yungai. Vothe.

“--TURN--!!”

Again, her words were ripped from her. There was another line of cracks and the foreboding whistle. The side of the Widow’s Bane splintered again. Wood went flying. A scream tore through and pain shot through her left side. Her body was thrown and she hit the starboard railing hard enough to jostle her head.

It sounded as though hands were cupped over her ears. Her mind was hazy. She looked up and saw her helm gone. Arenaia was in pieces, torn apart by a sure shot by a cannon. When Esme looked down, she saw her arm had splinters of wood from shoulder to wrist.

Arenaia.

I think he was a good choice, if I say so myself, Cap’n.

Arenaia was dead.

There was no time for mourning.

Swiftly, Esme reached up with her right hand and pulled herself up. Trinivar was shouting, but she could shout louder.

“READY THE GUNS NOW!!”

Trinivar called back, “ON THE MARK, CAP’N!”

Esme’s voice tore from her throat with a desperation she did not wish to admit: “FIRE!!”

The cannons returned fire into the White Widow, but before she could watch if the damage was worth while, a loud SNAP broke through the deck. She turned, just in time to see the base of the mainmast crack.

No.

Up in the crow’s nest, Trynis - one of her mages - tried desperately to turn his ice below to patch what was broken, but it was too late. The mast tilted and then fell, sending Trynis into the water and crushing men on the quarterdeck.

No no no.

The Widow’s Bane was built for speed, but without the mast, they were stuck. Without the helm, they were stuck. There was no escape.

With the cries of her men in her ears, she did not even hear herself call for a reload. She knew what men were alive were doing what they could, but her gaze went across the sea.

And Karsteth stared back.

She could not see much of him, but she did not need to. That man stalked every corner of her mind. He had burned his imprint there. A mere glimpse of his dark hair blowing in the wind was all she needed. She could imagine his twisted smirk well enough, his piercing gaze. She could almost hear him right beside her: Bitch.

She would not be frozen with fear. She turned and hurried down the ladder. There was no helm to man. Slipping on blood on the deck, she gestured a hand wildly to the side. “GET THE FIRE MAGES AND BURN THAT RIGGING. FREE US OF THE MAST AND SHOVE IT OVERBOARD! WE NEED TO LEAD HIM BACK TOWARDS THE FORT! THERE ARE GUNS IN PORT!”

Aye, she had told Vaelrin that installing cannons along Shallowbrook’s coast would benefit to keep troublesome ships at bay. The situation at hand was not what she expected, but there was time for that later.

As her orders were carried out on the top deck, she rushed below to take inventory of the carnage there. Large holes peppered the sides of her ship, some cannons held in place where the gunports used to be. Men were crushed by cannons that had come loose, while some were dead or dying. But those still alive were reloading - and she was there to shout to them.

“FIRE! BLOW THEM OUT OF THE WATER!”

Invigorated by their captain being closer, the men shouted along with her and fired - but so did the White Widow.

Esme was blown back and with a loud clunk, her head smacked against a cannon that had come loose behind her. She saw bright flashes, but maintained her consciousness. It would take more than that, and she had adrenaline pumping in her blood to help.

Both ships took a beating, but Esme was outgunned and now most certainly outmanned. She heard the familiar sound of gurgling below and felt the ground shift beneath her. Her ship was sinking slowly but surely. And were they to take another round, it would happen faster.

So many were dead around her. So many familiar faces.

Her breathing quickened.

No.

No no. This was not how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to return to sea. She was supposed to find Karsteth. She was supposed to end him. Not the other way around. How did he even find her? How did they get--

This had to be a nightmare.

This had to be false.

This had to be fake.

Where was Trinivar?

Where--

She braced herself as she heard another line of cracks. And another line. And another line. But no-- they were too distant to be of the White Widow. Those were not the guns of a frigate. And no further onslaught came.

“IT’S THE LILY!”

“THE LILY!!”

Rather than rush to the top deck, Esme staggered and made way for the hole in the side of the Widow’s Bane. It was dangerous if another attack was made, but she cared not. And when she saw the large warship that was the Bloody Lily, she choked a gasp of relief.

Lucien must have just gotten there. He must have seen--

It was not important.

Turning from the hole, she went to rush for as many of her men as she could.

Another crack.

An explosion.

Esme flung forward and everything went black.

When she woke, it was to salt water in her throat and sand in her mouth. She coughed and sputtered. She tasted blood and sea. The pull of the tide surrounded her and she groaned at the hard ground below and the throbbing pain throughout her body. She could not move her right arm, but she could push herself up with her left, albeit painfully. Some wood must have still been in the wounds.

She was on the shore. A cursory and dizzy glance up offered her a sight of a gun tower. She was in Shallowbrook. How long had she been out? How had she made it to the shore?

Her ship.

Her crew.

Karsteth.

Fear gripped her and she turned swiftly towards the sea. The White Widow was gone. The Lily was anchored not far out.

And the Widow’s Bane…

Smoke filled the sky and the Widow’s Bane jutted out of the water. Sunken, but in water too shallow to fully engulf it. It appeared as though men - alive and dead - were being hauled onto the Lily.

There was no telling how many had survived, nor how many were drifting through the water as she had. But as she looked up and down the shore, she could not help but release a shuddering gasp.

A few bodies were washed ashore as she had been. Some bloodier than others. But all recognizable.

She hated the whimper that escaped her as she tried desperately to stand. She had to get to them. Her crew, she had to see if they were alive.

Glad to have ya back, Cap’n.

She stumbled, her legs wobbling and weak and in pain. There was a sharp jolt through her thigh.

Good morn, Cap’n.

She could not even make it to the first man. Dropping to her knees, she caught herself with one hand and tried to steady her breathing, but to no avail.

Missed havin’ ya, Cap’n.

The voices of her crew were in her mind like an echo, but one was clearer. One was in the present.

“We got a surv-- It’s the Captain!! Get Dawnsinger!! It’s the Captain!!”

She did not care to look up to see who it was as her body collapsed once more on the shore. She could not think of anything but the blood on the deck, the sound of her men screaming. The sight of her ship beneath the water.

Her home.

In all her years - one hundred and twenty-five or so - Esme could not remember the last time she shed a tear before then.

@thesunguardmg | @pyrar | @forever-afk for mentions

#my writing #the sunguard #esme #karsteth

[rogaire-a]

‘‘ Aye, I’m not climbing that. ‘‘

#OPEN // INTERACTION #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #8) hi

[rogaire-a]

Hope: [Slaps Shay's ass, leaving behind a gold star sticker.]

@moltementi​

'' Just one? ''

#moltementi #moltementi; hope jensen #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( shay vc: my arse is at least four stars woRTH #leaving one star out bc I land on my butt way too often #bUT i'm going to Liam and see how many stars he gives me!! ) #( shay walking around the homestead with golden stars on his butt tHO ) #( ALSO HI I MISS U )

[rogaire-a]

@silentknives​ sent: 🗞 (she DEFINITELY does this on a regular basis alsdkfALS)  // Send 🗞  to hit my muse with a rolled up magazine // accepting

Had he noticed her glare, Shay would have shut his mouth sooner, but instead, he goes on with the teasing, and even dares to mention that one-night-stand they had a few years ago and-

thud

It takes him a moment, then he realizes he's been hit on his back with a rolled-up paper and now he's torn between bursting out laughing or voicing his indignation with an ow! - although the hit didn't hurt at all. 

But he got the warning, so he decides to close his mouth.

( for now )

‘‘ Okay, I’ll shut up.‘‘

#silentknives #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( V. / MAIN ) #( Shay really said 'do I test my luck' and then got hit with a paper ASGHJHKB #I approve of Emily hitting him once in a while to get him back in line. sOMETIMES HE REALLY DESERVES IT #BAD! BAD SHAY )

[rogaire-a]

@freedomsake​​​ sent: “you’re a monster.” // send  “you’re a monster.” for my muse’s reaction 

If there was anything Shay has learned to bear over the years, it's the hatred of his former comrades. For years doubts and regret have plagued him, but after so many disappointments, one would expect to grow cold to accusations like these, whereas his younger self would have been horrified to be compared to a monster, but after hearing the same phrase for many years from different mouths, Shay could say that he'd become impassive to most things.

He didn't consider himself heartless. Years may have greyed his hair, but his heart was still the same. He just stopped caring about what people thought of him. Hated, feared, a monster, Shay didn't care anymore how others saw him. He still believed in the rightness of his cause, and he would continue fighting for it till his last breath. 

and this boy...if that was meant to elicit a reaction from him, he would have to try harder. 

His eyes settled on the lad, smiling at the accusation. How ironic that Achilles's last pupil would think that of him. He must not have held back while telling the lad about him. 

‘’ I see I don't have to waste on introductions. ‘’

#freedomsake #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( *EYES EMOJI* #hOHO #Shay legit thinking that Connor is just like the assassins he's met in past; inconsiderate and driven by nothing but the creed's goals #but little does he know.....he ISN'T #they're both good people let's just hope they won't have to throw hands to realise THAT GFCHBJ ) #( V. / AN OLDER MAN NOW; PERHAPS WISER ) - ac3

[rogaire-a]

@goldxnwarriors​ sent:  "She's gone, Shay. Mary died not long ago, I'm having her buried today. If you'd like to say goodbye, you can join me, but she's not here anymore."

Weeks, if not months, had passed since he’s last visited Grace. His work at sea (and with the assassins, but Grace doesn’t know about that and for her sake it shall remain this way ) kept him busy longer than he thought. He’d often wondered if she was faring well, as well as Mary, whom Shay had grown fond of, not in the same way he was ‘fond’ of Grace, but she was a good friend and whenever he came to visit, he always made sure to bring something from his voyages to her as well. Well, besides his stories. 

However, he would have never imagined what kind of news awaited for him when he climbed into Grace’s and Mary’s shared room. Shay stood silent, the shock making him unable to speak. Many questions nagged at his mind, but he was quick to brush them off as Grace was his only focus now. He could only imagine what she was going through...

‘’ O-of course...‘’ he stammered, not sure how to comfort her. Asking her if she was okay seemed like a stupid thing to say at the moment. So he placed a rough hand on her worn-yet soft one, giving it a light squeeze. He wanted her to know he was here for her, but if she wanted to be alone, then he would give her space.  ‘’╶Do you want me to stay ? ‘’

#goldxnwarriors #goldxnwarriors ; grace marks #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( 19th CENTURY AU ) #death mention/ #( ✨ eMotIONAL DAMAGE ✨ ) #☩ QUEUE / Searching for the precursors box.

[rogaire-a]

pspspspsps hey Shay pspspsps u look so sexy with those Templar robes pspspsps definitely not hiding in the bushes nope pspspspspspsps

'' ........ ''

#anonymous #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( narrator voice: The Irishman was too stunned to speak )

[rogaire-a]

@silentknives​ sent:  ❛   lean . ( :’))) ) // NONVERBAL PROMPTS 

lean  on  my  muse’s  shoulder .

It was a night as cold as many others in the North Atlantic, except tonight, the sky was painted with numerous colors. The Aurora Borealis shined beautifully, painting the Morrigan and the icebergs with its bright colors. Shay had seen this sight many times before, but he could never grow tired of it. Some sailors seemed to share the sentiment, and they always took their time to stare at the colored sky as well. Shay was leaning by the railing when he felt a sudden heaviness on his shoulder. He turned his head to see who had settled and was surprised to find Emily but smiled nonetheless, before returning his gaze to the sea. A few minutes passed before he decided to break the silence.

“ You’re not going to throw up on me, are you? “

#silentknives #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( V. / MAIN ) #( I SWEAR this could have been a soft(TM) moment...but he had to ruin it hbfdbgjfkn #SHM )

[rogaire-a]

@worldly-diversity sent: 🗞  || Haytham // Send 🗞  to hit my muse with a rolled up magazine // no more accepting

Shay has never been one to hold back his tongue. It was just unlike him to remain silent, but this fierce honesty of his wasn't always to be considered a good thing, not when his line of 'work' mostly consisted in lying to people.

But despite all, He's always tried to be on his best behavior when near the Grandmaster, always tried to be as respectful he could, and it did work for a while, but after time Shay found it extremely hard to hold back his opinions.

What could he say? he was just too honest--a bit too much, maybe, and despite the various reproaches from his superior, he continued to speak his thoughts. He didn't even do it on purpose, for him, it was a natural thing. But he knew his big mouth would have got him in trouble one day. It was just a matter of time, and as expected, that day came.

He was usually hard to anger, but there were a few things particularly that got his nerves immediately, and one of them was making fun of his accent. He couldn't just shrug it off, ever since he was younger, and that has always been the cause for most of his tavern brawls. Ironically enough, it's been the cause of the recent scuffle too.

Hadn't it been for the Grand-master, he would be spending his day in a cell now, and it's not until the guards ( who nearly suffered the same fate of the idiot that insulted him ) retreat and he's hit on the back of his neck with a rolled-up newspaper that Shay realizes there won't be a second time he saves his arse. 

Alright, maybe this time he deserved it. But Jaysus, that stings.

#worldlydiversity #worldlydiversity; haytham kenway #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( V. / MAIN ) #Shay: >:((( *POUTS* #violence mention / #racism mention / #☩ QUEUE / Searching for the precursors box.

[rogaire-a]

@wiiaca​ sent: ❰❰ THREAT ❱❱  

sender holds a weapon up to receiver as a threat

Shay holds his breath, feeling the cold of the metal pressed to his neck. To say he was surprised would be a mere understatement. He didn't exactly appreciate having a blade to his neck, but his shock was given to something else.

He looked at his former teacher, someone that should be dead. Shay wasn't sure how he survived their encounter in Albany, but he didn't exactly have time to check if he was alive or not that day. 

'' Kesegowaase- '' he rasps, defiance gleaming in his eyes despite his position.  '' You live. ''

#wiiaca #wiiaca; kesegowaase #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( V. / MAIN ) #(👀👀 AHH KESEEE #he really went for the reverse uno card huH #or maybe they just enjoy pinning the other to the wall ashjkefbhn aNYWAY #BRING IT ON )

[rogaire-a]

@goldxnwarriors​ sent: "You're a monster"--- grace,,,,,,, // send  “you’re a monster.” for my muse’s reaction 

Shay stood still, his heart racing in his chest,  the bodies of the three men he'd just murdered face down on the muddy ground before him. 

He’s never been one to lose focus during a fight, but when he saw Grace in danger, he immediately rushed to her defense, just now realizing that she was there to witness the whole scene. He never told her about his 'work', if he could even call it like that, and wasn't sure he ever would, but it all happened so quickly that Shay struggled to find the words to speak, to explain himself and tell her that it wasn’t what it looked like, he just wanted to protect her, but then- 

You're a monster

The words hit him so hard that it felt as someone had plunged a knife to his chest and turned it. Shay took a step forwards, trying to reason with her ''Grace...'' he began, then stopped abruptly, not wanting to scare her further than she probably already was. Though seeing her scared of him hurt more than anything. '' I...Grace...I'm sorry........I didn't want... '' he trailed off, his voice breaking. He could live with others calling him a monster, but not with her considering him one '' I'm so sorry..... ''

#goldxnwarriors #goldxnwarriors ; grace marks #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( me: -asks for angst- #*gets angst* #also me: SCREAMS ! ! ! )

[rogaire-a]

@prctectedlegacy sent:  “  i wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness ?  ” from Sage Abby to Assassin Shay? // PINTEREST STARTERS // no more accepting

‘‘ Well, actually,  I’ve always thought it would be my big mouth to be the end o’ me. ‘‘

Shay stated, eyeing the stranger suspiciously. He didn’t know what she meant with those words, though they caught him off in a way, as his fate in the Brotherhood has been wavering as of lately--but how would she know that? 

‘‘ Who are you? ‘‘

#prctectedlegacy #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( V. / MAIN )

[rogaire-a]

@worldly-diversity​ sent: "You've done well Shay, as I knew you would. I am proud of the man you've become." || Monro

Sleep never came easily to Shay. More than often he would spend entire nights awake, either lost in his thoughts or tormented by nightmares. But even staying awake did little help. Today was one of those days where he seemed to be in a dark mood, hence why he'd retreated early to his cabin with orders to not be disturbed unless he was highly required on deck.

He was sitting by his desk, eyes unfocused, two empty bottles of rum near him. Alcohol did nothing to improve his sour mood except worsening the situation, but at least he would be able to feel something, even if that was a throbbing headache.

He toyed absentmindedly with the ring on the desk, the templar ring that once belonged to Colonel George Monro...

It’s been years since his passing, but Shay could still remember that day at Albany as it was yesterday. The Colonel was nothing more but just a memory by now, lost in his thoughts, but forever in his heart. 

Shay could swear that he could hear him sometimes. His calm, soothing voice would echo in his mind, and it was almost like as he was there with him. However, he would always end up blaming it on his sleepless state, or, in this case, drunken state. The last thing he needed at the moment was the others to think that he’d lost his mind, although that wouldn't be the first time he’s heard voices in his head...

I am proud of the man you've become.

He clenched his eyes shut, clutching the ring in his hand. Hadn’t it been for the Colonel, he wouldn’t be half the man he was now. Truth be told, he wouldn’t even be alive. ��

The Colonel had saved his life, gave him a second chance, and with his guide, he had helped him find his new life’s purpose. He had grown to be like a mentor to him, someone to look up to and to learn from, and Shay did learn many things from him.

It’s not our allegiances that define us, it’s our actions, and the Colonel had proved to him that he was nothing like Shay expected him to be when he met him for the first time. Never judge a book by its cover indeed.

The Colonel was a good man, a good man whose life has been taken unfairly, all for a damned war. War was never fair, but how many people still had to die for the Assassins to be satisfied?

Slowly, Shay’s eyes fluttered open again. He drew in a deep sigh, keeping his gaze low. Monro’s dream was to make the world a better place, and Shay will do anything in his power to fulfill that.

‘‘ I will make the world a better place, Colonel. I swear it. ‘‘

#worldlydiversity #worldlydiversity; Colonel Monro #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( The air is still; and I am a hunter / Templar verse ) #death tw / #mourning tw / #alcohol tw #( oOF #been a while since I wrote some ol' good angst(TM) xD #WE LOVE YOU COLONEL )

[rogaire-a]

@finnegansson sent: ❰❰ GAZE ❱❱ 

our muses make extended eye contact

This whole mess could have been avoided if he only killed that damned Redcoat when he had the chance. But he hesitated, not wanting to end an innocent man's life. He was only doing his duty, but sparing him resulted in him running to call for reinforcement when he realized that Shay was not the only intruder in the base. 

Damn it.

Chaos reigned in the fort, but Hope's assassins immediately jumped in to distract the guards so Shay and the others could make their escape undisturbed. On his way out, a strange sensation settled in the back of his mind, and instinctively, he turned. That was when Shay saw him.

 A man was staring at him so intensely that he felt himself freeze in the spot. He looked young, maybe around his age, and the way he stared at him ( not at the others, but him ) suggested that he was far from happy of his presence, and there was something about him that reminded Shay of someone...

One closer look at his outfit, and Shay realized who it reminded him of. He was that damned Templar tasked to hunt him down. He never really had the chance to meet him, well--until now, but the man just fit the descriptions he heard from the other Assassins.  Blue eyes, long dark leather coat with various Celtic symbols. Aye-it was him.

Before Shay even had the chance to think of doing anything, a hand grabbed his shoulder, bringing him out of his thoughts. His eyes met his Assassin brother, and with a sharp nod, he then turned to leave--but not before throwing one last glance and smirk at the Templar.

#finnegansson #CAP’N AT THE HELM // IC #( V. / MAIN ) #( figured there was a first time they saw each other? or at least that Shay saw Declan- #Shay just 👁👁😏 #' hAHA good luck tryin to catch me! ' #also Shay: *ends up being nursed back to health by his parents a few months later* asfjbfvh #this is probably set post Sam Smith's death #so he and the assassins are already after James Wardrop 👀 )