23 History And A Change Of Apparel
Thomas trudged aboard the Jackdaw, trying to make sense of everything that had happened. Jack was a woman, Kidd was a woman and next thing you know, Kenway was going to turn up to captain the Jackdaw in a dress.
Was he going insane?
He stepped down to the crews quarters, searching around for a bottle of anything. He checked bunks and crates and all that was left were empty bottles.
"Damn." He cursed, tossing the seventeenth bottle back under a bunk.
Thomas stood and stepped back up to the deck. He glanced over to the captain's quarters and bit his lip.
He really did want that drink.
Now Jemima was healed, he wasn't meant to be in the captain's quarters and he knew Kenway was away with Kidd but he knew he could come back at any time. Carefully, he opened the door and scanned the room.
A shadow fell across the floor and Thomas extended his wrist blade.
"Does Kenway know you're in here?" He called, taking a cautious step toward it.
"Does he know you're in here?" The voice replied and Thomas stopped.
He retracted the blade and walked over to the source of the shadow.
"Ah, Jaysus, mate! Can you knock?" She exclaimed, hastily pulling a shirt over her head.
"Ah, come on. I've seen already."
She pulled her head through the hole and glared at him.
"Don't give me that look, it was cos I saved your life, remember?"
"Aye, I remember, still got the scars." She said, touching the healed wound on her chest as she pulled her arms through the sleeves. "But the first time you saw was because you were creeping on me while I washed."
"I just followed a voice." He shrugged and turned away, rummaging around for the drink. "Did you know Kidd's a woman as well?"
Jemima nodded, adjusting her shirt.
"Aye, knew it the moment I met her. Her name's Mary Read."
"I'll remember that. Any other pirates I should know who are women in disguise?"
"Well, there's Kenway-"
"I'm joking!" She laughed. "It's just us two. Now can you give me a hand with this?"
Thomas left his search and turned to Jemima who held a corset up.
"I've never had to do this before." She bit her lip, turning it around, unsure how to put it on.
"As far as I can remember, it goes like this." Thomas stood behind her and helped her put her arms through the holes.
He then reached around to her front and clipped the clasps together before tightening the ribbon on the back.
"Oof." She gasped as he did so. "You sure you have something between your legs since you seem to know more about this than I do."
"Pretty sure." He grinned, stepping back. "Elizabeth had some like this."
Ah yes, his girl back home.
Jemima turned around, showing off her new outfit.
"So, whaddya think?"
"I think that I really need a drink." He stared, unable to take his eyes off her curved, feminine form.
"Kenway's got a bottle under that desk." She laughed, pointing.
Thomas found it and pulled out the cork with his teeth, taking a swig.
"What about the others? What will they think?" She asked, more to herself than to Thomas.
"They'll be surprised, that's for certain. Aren't you worried about any of the crew... taking advantage of you? That's why you and Kidd- Mary, dressed as men, wasn't it?"
"I'm not worried." Jemima said, drawing a sabre from Kenway's collection. "Any man who touches me without their permission can sleep with the fishes."
"Ya know, I think I like Jemima Thatch much more than Jack Thatch." He said, slumping down on Kenway's chair, kicking his feet up on the desk.
"Is that because I'm something for you to leer at? Cos I can tell you now Thomas, do it again and I'll-"
"No, no, nothing like that. Jack Thatch was a dreamer, a good friend and a pirate. And Jemima Thatch is all that too, but she's a fighter, someone in control and not afraid to tell people who she really is."
"Well, I haven't actually told anyone. Mary knew straight away and my father found me as a farm girl."
"But you're planning to tell, aren't you? And you're not afraid to do that."
Jemima frowned, playing with her hair as she sat down on a crate.
"I don't know. As soon as I open my mouth, they're not going to take me seriously."
"Then that's what your pistol's for." Thomas nodded towards her jacket that lay on the floor, holding two pistols on the inner lining of it. "And you know how to make threats. You'll be fine." He assured her.
"Cheers, Thomas." She smiled. "Oh, by the way, I found some assassin outfits hung up there." She pointed to the wall opposite her. "I don't think Kenway will miss 'em."
Thomas stood and stepped over to the outfits. There were some simple sailor and hunting outfits, but two caught his eye in particular.
"I recognise these." He muttered, holding them out.
"Back in the Brotherhood, we learnt of the history of the Master Assassins. This outfit here," he held up the first one, "belongs to Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad from the third crusade. And this one," he held up the second, "belongs to Ezio Auditore da Firenze, from Italy in the late 15th century."
"You know your history." Jemima nodded. "Think they're the real things?"
"Probably not. The Master Assassins were most likely buried in them. And in regard to the history, I had to know it. To know of all the famous Master Assassins was compulsory. And besides, I'm part of the lineage."
"You're what?" Jemima sat up.
"One of the things we did back in England was tracing out assassin heritage. Some people didn't have any in their lineage, but you can imagine the look on the British Master Assassin's face when he found out I was related to Altaïr and Ezio."
"How?!" Jemima was intrigued. She'd heard of these famous assassins before, but as the years had passed, the stories became legends. So for a blood relative to stand before her, this was as if those legends had suddenly come to life.
"I managed to trace it back to the Auditore family. I didn't come from Ezio's line, but I came from his brother's, Federico."
"That's amazing. So your ancestors would have called the Great Master Assassin, Ezio Auditore da Firenze, their uncle!"
"Aye, they would."
"And all I can trace my family back to was a farmer's daughter and a vicious pirate!"
Thomas grinned and glanced back and forth from Altaïr's outfit, to Ezio's.
"What one do you think I should go for?" He asked, holding each up in front of him.
Jemima paused, narrowed her eyes and put a finger to her chin.
"Go for Ezio's, Altaïr's is a bit simple." She decided. "And an Italian look would suit you."
He nodded and set them down on the desk before pulling his shirt off. As he bent down to take his natty, sailor trousers off in exchange for the pure white ones, Thomas looked up to see Jemima, arms folded, watching him.
"Er, do you mind?" He asked, pausing, waiting for her to turn around.
"No, not really." She replied, unmoving.
"Jemima, lass, can you give me a little privacy please?"
"You didn't give me any so, nope." She smiled wickedly.
"Fine then." He sighed and pulled down his trousers.
Jemima took in the form before her. His body was decorated with muscles and scars, every limb baring a past of brutal training and battle to be what it is now. He wasn't perfect but that's what made him attractive. Each scar, cut and bruise told the tale of a fight won.
"Are you finished?" He raised an eyebrow as he watched her eyes trail down his body.
"Not quite." She said, gazing at the piece of anatomy she lacked.
"Oh come on, I didn't look that long at you."
"You fell out of a tree before you stopped leering." Jemima pointed out.
Jemima had a final look, then stepped back and waved for him to resume.
"You can put some clothes on now."
"Thank you, your majesty." Thomas bowed mockingly before pulling on the mock Ezio Auditore outfit.
"The pleasures all mine." She bowed back, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes.