Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. All names mentioned do not represent the true persons. All brand names do not belong to the author. No copyright laws or personal privacy laws are intended to be infringed.

A/N: I see pirate, and I think Assassin's Creed IV: Black Flag. Current status is clearly more gamer than movie buff, since my second thought was Pirates of the Caribbean. Nice to know about myself.

Also, since the only piracy I've ever committed is using an MP3 converter, I feel obliged to mention that I am not a sailor, and thus have no idea how it actually works. Feel free to correct me if the need arises.

Happy Elsanna Week, everyone! Let's make it another good one.

Day 1: Pirate

The Caribbean, 18th Century

Blood was spattered across the deck. Whether it came from her crew or from that of the Spanish, Anna would be hard-pressed to say. The frigate had put up a damned hard fight, and having seen the contents of its hold, Anna could see why the Spaniards had been so loathe to part with their merchandise. Sugar, rum, gunpowder, cloth, silks, medicines: what had started as a whim had turned into the biggest payday in months, and this time it didn't require them to storm a fort. Anna let out a low whistle as she saw a bejewelled chest carried out of the hold, the two men carrying it grunting and staggering beneath its weight. Anna casually leaned over and tapped Andre's shoulder.

"So what's in that chest, then, eh? Emeralds? Rubies? Idols? It's okay if it's just gold. I never had an issue with gold. All the gems and jewels, those are pretty trinkets, true, but golden coins minted right and true, well, those are a lot more easily accepted in taverns, I find. Not the source of wealth, but a useful stand-in, and there's just something about the clink, you know?"

Andre didn't speak. Clever man. Anna had known men who'd cut their lips bloody against the rope gagging them. He didn't struggle much either, so the rope tying him to the mast didn't scrape his fancy yellow uniform too much, either. Indeed, the only blemish on the Spanish captain was his bleeding shoulder, where he'd taken a musket shot, and a nasty bruise across his face from where Anna had punched him upon boarding. Bright and purple, the swelling had forced his right eye shut. The still-open left was fixed firmly ahead, as if this was all a bad dream that would go away if he didn't look at it. Given how fiercely he and his crew had fought earlier, it was more than passing odd to see how easily he'd accepted his fate.

A strange man indeed, Anna concluded, shaking her head as she walked away from the mast and its bound captain to look over the rest of the Spanish crew. On their knees with their hands bound behind their backs, many bleeding, all bruised, surrounded by Anna's own men, they did look like a sorry lot. Still, Anna had a reputation to keep, and gentlemen of sophistication did not let the state of their audience deter them from impressiveness. Fingering the little box in her pocket for courage and luck, she hopped down to the main deck with a smile, taking care to land her boots on dry wood. Theatrics were impressive, but easily ruined by an unseemly slip, and blood was notoriously fickle in its traction.

"Now, you seem to be a fine sort of men, loyal and strong. However, as you may have noticed, your loyalty and strength have been matched and surpassed. Now, there are a few options which serve as appropriate responses to said matching and surpassing. The first, and most obvious, is to accept that you have been beaten, stay kneeling and wait for me and my merry crew to frisk and forage and loot to our heart's content before sailing off into the sunset, all while hoping that we don't sink your vessel before leaving. The second, still obvious but considerably more foolish, is to find your inner bravo and emerge a hero, tearing free of your bonds to strike down the evil pirates currently plundering your ship. Should you succeed, then know that you have my whole-hearted, posthumous praise, and that it is my honour to have starred as the villain in your epic tale. However, should you fail, a far more likely outcome, know that I fully intend to shoot you in both kneecaps, remove your arms at the elbows, and then tow you behind my ship until all that remains of you is the miserable skull which conceived the idiotic attempt.

"But for those of you who are true believers in a fair and equal market, and have a keen eye for opportunity, then perk your heads and open your ears, for I have a proposition. In the claiming of the fine treasures currently being removed from this ship, I seem to have misplaced a good few members of my crew, and am in the need of some fresh talent in my ranks. I run a meritocracy, but feel inclined to freely allow employment, and the benefits will far exceed that with which you have been previously blessed. For right now, you serve as common sailors toiling away in hopes of seeing a penny that you might send back to your wives at home, an honest job in service to dishonest men, officers chosen by birth, not ability. But tomorrow, you might be truly free men, with all the benefits the title implies. You would serve alongside men of all births in equal capacity, knowing that your captain has your best interests at heart, and that any plunder you find is yours to keep, without having to go through some pesky customs officer. And who knows, perhaps the day after you might even be a captain of your own vessel, off to employ your own like-minded crew.

"This could all be yours, gentlemen, and all you must needs do is discard your current colours, renounce your king, and accept your place amongst the crew of the Albatross! Oh, and you'd have to kill whichever of your crewmates doesn't take the deal, of course. Wouldn't want you to have second thoughts about your new contract, as it were, and I find that disposal of former concerns is often done most swiftly and satisfyingly via shot through the head. Simple and easy, your old mates will barely have enough time to process the feelings of betrayal as you accept your new role as a free man! Now, any takers?"

Anna turned to the assembled men with a wide smile, opening her arms acceptingly. Her own crew gave a cheer, for their captain even if they didn't care much for the speech, but the Spanish mostly just gave each other a variety of looks, ranging from confused to angry to afraid. Anna waited for a few seconds, smile fixed on her face, hoping that she wouldn't have to murder the whole lot. It was a dirty, ugly business, and theatrics often sufficed in place of actual violence once the messy chaos of boarding and looting was done. But if none of the fools actually took her deal, well, she had a reputation to keep. A woman captain was hard enough for most pirates to stomach; a soft woman captain? Well, that was just grounds for a mutiny, wasn't it?

Just as Anna was about to lose hope and have to order her men to tie the Spaniards up, after which she'd have to give a big show debating whether or not to leave them afloat or just scuttle the ship as they left, one of the Spanish hesitantly lifted his head, struggling to his feet. Anna turned her brilliant grin on him.

"Ah, here's a clever lad! Tell me your name, sailor, so that we might welcome our new crewmate!"

The Spaniard nervous looked about, eyes flicking. He coughed, opened his mouth, paused, lips moving silently as he searched for the right words with which to accept his new position.

"Ah… mm… c-capitán? Por favor, not English? I speak only little, so, eh, again slow, signora?"

Anna's grin died as she tried very hard not to grind her face into her the heel of her palm.

A few days later, the Albatross sailed into port at Nassau, the crew working hard as they trimmed the sails and cut the lines, her experienced and hardened sailors working alongside their new Spanish allies. As she leaned against the railing at the bow, watching as the details of the town sharpened as they broke through the fog, Anna wondered whether or not Pierre would be willing to trade a few of his crew for hers. Multilingual and manning only a schooner, the old rogue would surely be willing to help out a friend by taking some of her newer foreign allies into his crew.

Anna made sure to climb the main mast well before they pulled in. While unnecessary and straining, appearances were important. Besides, if she cut a striking figure at the top of the mast, coat flapping majestically in the wind, well, it would be a crime to deprive the world of that wonderful image, wouldn't it?

Anna inhaled, breathing in deeply, relishing the smells of the sea. If she focused hard, she could take in the salt and the seaweed while ignoring the bird shit and stale rum. Letting out all the scents in one rush of breath, Anna opened her eyes patted her lucky box in her pocket, and grabbed the hook dangling by the mast. She grappled down to the main deck, which gave a satisfying thud beneath her boots. Tossing the spyglass to her quartermaster, Anna made her way down the gangplank, nodding with a smile to the sailors who were unloading her loot. Chests of jewels, crates of sugar, barrels of salt, casks of rum: a good take, enough that they might even be able to take as much as a month living the easy life on the golden shores of Nassau, picking off small merchant ships and avoiding the brunt of the military navies.

Anna made her way through the ramshackle but lively town to her favourite tavern, the Roosting Gull. Outside, she spotted Flynn Rider, captain of the Maximus, which he had, uh, 'requisitioned' from the Coronan fleet. It was odd to see him without his Stabbington henchmen, but not for the worse; Anna had little love for the mercenary brothers Rider had hired.

Rider was sitting atop a barrel by the steps leading up to the tavern, gloomily looking into his tankard. An odd look, for the normally cavalier and cheerful rogue. Anna raised her hand in a lazy wave as she shouted out a greeting.

"Oi, Rider! Why so glum? Is your rum not up to standards? If you keep pouting at it, your smoulder's like to fall into it!"

His reaction was not one she had expected. At the sound of her voice, Rider jerked his head up, eyes wide, a few bulging eyeballs short of panicking. He dropped his tankard and scrambled off his barrel, gesturing urgently at her to lower her voice and grasping her shoulder with a cautionary grip.

"Quiet, Scarlett. Keep your voice down. I was hoping you wouldn't be come back here for another week at the least, a month at the most ideal. There are people here looking for the Crimson Queen. Now, I'm not one to keep track of your constantly changing grandiose titles, but I imagine that you might have introduced yourself as such on occasion?"

Anna shrugged his hand off, dusting at her coat to make sure he didn't get rum in the dark blue fabric.

"Might be I did. 'Anna Scarlett' isn't exactly a name to inspire terror in the hearts of grizzled sailors, now is it? And neither is 'Captain Feistypants', before you mention that again. And who is it exactly that's looking for me? If it's bounty hunters, we can just pay them off. I have the coin to do so, thanks to the absolutely magnificent loot that I pulled in. You should come down by the docks and take a gander. Might be I'll even share some of the wine, so that you might appear a tad more refined."

Anna brushed past Rider as she spoke, making her way up the stairs of the Gull. Rider grabbed her by the sleeve, whipping her around.

"Might be we should do that instead. Might be that you don't want to go into the Gull. I might just even suggest that you get back on the Albatross with all your fine wines and go on a long vacation somewhere else. Somewhere Spanish, ideally. Heard Havana's wonderful this time of year."

Anna ripped her sleeve out of Rider's grasp while rolling her eyes.

"Rider, this loot is from the Spanish. There's no way I'd be able to sell any of it back to the people we robbed it from. And for the love of god, would you stop dancing around the topic and just tell me what's going on here?"

As she was talking, Anna had made her way up the stairs of the tavern. She was about to swing apart the doors when they flung open, nearly smashing into her outstretched fingers. Anna whipped back her fingers and was about to curse the bloody fool when she saw the crisp, red uniform of the British Navy, as well as the grim, shaven face above it.

Behind her, Rider groaned.

"I assume that you would be Anna Scarlett, also known as the Crimson Queen, the Bloody Whirlwind, and the Scourge of the Seas?" the British officer said as he pulled a warrant of arrest out of his coat and presented the scroll to her. His tone that made it clear it was a statement, not a question.

Anna gently pushed the scroll to the side. "It's actually Captain Anna Scarlett, thank you, and the Bloody Whirlwind's an exotic dancer I met in the Bahamas. I once claimed to be a bloody maelstrom, but I was drunk and he was touchy. I assure you, though, when we got kicked out of the tavern it was mostly just bruises. Blood was very little."

The officer didn't even crack a smile. Stowing the warrant back into his coat, the officer held open the door.

"The governor will identify you, to confirm you are who you claim to be. Rest assured, you will not come to harm. We have come beneath a banner of parley, by her ladyship's own written word and personal honour."

Anna smirked. "The governor and his lady have both come here? For little old me? Seems excessive, if you ask me. No doubt they find our nation of free men too uncouth for their standards." She gave a wink to Rider, showing a confidence she didn't really feel. Appearances and all that. Rider rolled his eyes in response before burying his face into his palms.

The officer didn't even flinch. "Her ladyship is the governor." Anna's smirk vanished. "She wishes to speak with the pirate captain Anna Scarlett, and is willing to extend a royal pardon. Now, if you would be so kind, it is not chivalrous to keep a lady waiting."

Anna gave the officer a withering look as she pushed past him.

"Don't worry. I've kept her waiting for a good ten years. I think she can cope with a few more minutes. Rider!" Flynn Rider looked about as if hoping that some other poor sap was going to step forward in his place. Anna pointed at him. "Go find some rum. I'm going to need to get drunk and break something after this."

"This way." The officer gestured, somehow managing to maintain his stony stoicism.

Anna pointed at him. "You can wait here. I don't need someone standing over my shoulder for this exchange. Besides, I'm probably going to need to hit someone as well."

And with that, Anna stormed into the tavern, fuming.

The Gull was, perhaps for the first time since its opening, empty.

The chairs were perched atop the tables in a sad, forlorn way, as if wondering why they were resting on their seats and not their legs, while the tables creaked in protest beneath the weight of something heavier than a tankard of rum or ale. The stools were pushed in at the bar, a rare sight, and the bar itself was still clean of fresh spills of drunken consumption. Instead of the hearty laughter and roar of drunken sailors and the clash and clang of tankards and bottles, the only noises in the tavern were the wind whistling in between the closed shutters, and a quiet scratching.

The scratching came from the single occupied table, in one of the tables at the corner by the shuttered window. A candle was set atop the table, casting its lonely light against the walls, as if yearning to break free of this gloomy emptiness and unite with the glaring sun outside.

And sitting at the table was the governor herself: a pale, blonde woman dressed not in the gowns and silks of a fair lady, but the coat and uniform of a naval commander. Her golden hair was tied into a tight bun, exposing the slim neck wrapped tightly by the high collar typical of an officer's parade best. Cold, icy eyes moved slowly across the parchment upon which gloved hands were writing in a tight, elegant script. In place of the barrels, crates, or rickety old chairs usually used as a place to rest one's arse in the Gull, the governor sat on a folding bench, clean and polished and despairingly out of place with the rustic, ramshackle nature of the tavern. Her back was straighter than a mast, and her arms stuck rigidly to her sides. As she wrote, only the barest minimum movements were allowed, fingers and wrists and elbows and neck and eyes the only signs of life within this frozen sculpture of a person.

As Anna walked in, though, the sculpture seemed to come alive, if only a little. The hands stilled, the waist swivelled, neck tilted, eyes snapped up, as frozen blue met their twins.

"Captain." The governor said in a greeting dripping with frosty etiquette.

Anna gave a bow so deep it turned mocking.

"Governor. Nice gloves."

Those icy eyes narrowed. "I see you still insist on bowing instead of curtseying. Never one to play the lady's part."

Anna straightened and gave an exaggerated twirl, letting her coat swirl around her with a rush of flapping leather and the clacking of scabbards and knives.

"As you can see, my garb does not allow for the traditional greetings of a lady. Much like yours in that respect, sister dear. I see that you've gone to the other extreme of avoidance, and instead dress as if you were a noble son on his way to be promoted to admiral. Very gallant. You almost look like Father, dressed in that stuffy uniform."

The governor's jaw tightened at that.

"You presume much, to throw Father in my face like that. I've had men put in the stocks for lesser insults."

"I only possess as much presumption as you yourself showed when you came ashore here, sister. This is an awfully far distance from your estate at the Bahamas, and with so few an escort. I presume that you brought two, three brigs to accompany your frigate? Other men might call it madness, travelling with so small a company, when you venture to the capital of the free men."

"Is that what you call yourselves, as if it would lessen your crime? You are pirates, thugs and criminals, traitors to the King's peace and the King's laws, pillaging and plundering across the King's seas. Whatever freedom you claim is bought and maintained at the cost of the King's gold, the King's vessels, the King's people. This republic of yours is a farce, nothing more than a grand illusion meant to hide the lawless chaos and crimes you inflict against all the innocent and honest men in service to our monarch."

"Now there's a lot of big and fancy words," Anna quipped as she swung a chair off its perch atop the bar. She swung it around so that she could straddle it, leaning against it creaky back. "Seems like there are a fair bit too many syllables for a ragged pirate such as me."

"And yet you continue to maintain your fanciful delusions of eloquence and chivalry as a pirate captain, whose loquaciousness is only matched by your willingness to massacre and plunder your way across the Caribbean."

"More plundering than massacring, I assure you. Blood is awfully difficult to get out of this wonderful coat, but what is a pirate who is not fearsome? I can hardly bend men to my will if all they can see is a pair of teats dressed up in a man's vest. Give them mercy and they call it the soft heart of a woman. Give them the choice between service and death, and they call it the madness of a demon. In my experience, a demon's less likely to get fondled beneath the decks." Anna grinned cheekily as she tipped her tricorne in the governor's direction. "All these precautions I take for you, sweet sister. It helps keep me faithful, if in my own way."

"Do not speak to me of keeping faith," the governor snapped, putting down her quill to glare heatedly at the pirate. "If you knew so much of loyalty and allegiance, you wouldn't have scampered off into the night, chasing after fanciful dreams and desires. You would have stayed at home and learnt your place. One can go far in life if one is willing to play their part. Men serve me at my command, a service I didn't have to buy with blood."

Anna yawned at that.

"Men serve you at your husband's command, not because of you yourself. How is what's-his-name doing, by the way? I heard the wedding was lovely. Sorry I couldn't attend."

"Hans is fine," the governor said through gritted teeth. "He's in Havana, serving as ambassador to the Spanish. We write each other weekly. He sends gifts at times. It's all going wonderfully."

"Fantastic," Anna quipped. "So glad to know that marital life is suiting you so well. Clearly, you're both disgustingly domestic together. It almost makes me wonder when I'll get the happy news that I am now aunt to some hellspawn."

The governor flushed at that, exactly as Anna knew she would.

"Oh, what's the matter? Surely if Hans was man enough to marry, he's man enough to do his duty in bed. And I know that you are significantly practiced at delusion that you could just close your eyes and imagine it was some other, wonderful, fantastic, beautiful, talented redhead in place of your lord husband."

"Anna," the governor said in a warning tone.

"Captain Anna, if you please, governor. I do love that title. It makes me sound so authoritative. Almost makes me feel a lord myself. And who knows, maybe one day I might be admiral myself. Might be I could be respectable enough to find a wife of my own. Alas, I would be unable to get her with child, but apparently that puts me on even footing with Hans, so I count that as a victory."

"Anna," the governor's tone turned threatening.

"Well, maybe it puts me a foot ahead, now that I think about it. After all, my reasons for lack of child-making abilities is purely biological. What could be Hans's issue, I wonder? Surely it's not the fault of my sweet sister, who is so entirely and whole-heartedly in love with those of the masculine gender. Does the admiral not know how to stand at attention? Is his mast lacking sails? Do his loins sleep tonight?"

"Anna-"

"Is it always low tide, never high? Is his musket firing only blanks? Can his ship not find port? Is his compass not properly orientated? Is his longsword more of a bread knife? Is it that-"

"WE HAVEN'T CONSUMMATED!"

The governor's yell rang through the tavern, echoing in the emptiness. She glared at the pirate, her cheeks flushed with pent-up rage, hairs slipping free of her bun, pulled loose by the fingers massaging her temples. Angrily, the governor pulled at her collar, exposing the pale line of her neck, burning red with rage.

The sight took Anna's breath away.

"Yes, now you know, you fucking brat." The governor said, her voice trembling with barely-controlled fury. "The night of our wedding, I got so utterly drunk that I could barely see. Apparently, a vomiting spluttering wreck wasn't particularly arousing, so Hans left my room without ever getting erect in the first place. The day after, I claimed illness, while ensuring that Hans be sent to Havana as ambassador. I trusted that he'd be too embarrassed about not being man enough to do the deed to ever tell that our wedding bed saw more vomit than semen, and so far I've been right.

"And all this is because I can't bear to have that noble prick ever touching me, holding me, loving me. I imagine his hands roaming over my body and I shiver with disgust. So while you parade around the Caribbean keeping faithful and living free while whoring and pirating and plundering, I'm stuck in an empty marriage trying to maintain an entire colony and doing my best to convince King George that the pirate situation is under control and please, don't send your navy to completely crush Nassau and hang every person who sails under the black flag. And why? All for you, you ungrateful, disgusting, filthy, heartless bitch."

"Oh really?" Anna said, standing and kicking the chair to one side. "You're doing an awful lot of blaming and martyring, considering that this is apparently the very position you've always wanted. I told you my plan. That night. I told you everything. Like an utter fool, I went down on one knee, ring in palm, horses at the ready, everything packed with the ship ready to set sail. I told you that we could run. I told you that with mother and father gone, there was nothing for us at the estate anymore, no reason to stay, nothing standing between us. And what did you say?"

They both said the words at the same time, the words engraved in their memories, so clear even after all these years, their father reaching beyond the grave to speak through their voices.

"Conceal it. Don't feel it. This is not natural for sisters."

The silence that followed was thick, stifling, heavy with unsaid words, heavier with unacted desires. The governor sat on her side of the table, Anna stood at hers, the sisters glaring at each other, searching, hating, wanting, loving, despairing.

And then, in a rush, Anna was flying over the top of the table, lips crashing into the blonde's, parchment and quill flying in the air as the pirate swept them aside with her body. The candle flew through the air, the light sputtering before it went out from the violence of its flight, leaving only darkness, intimate, concealing, safe.

Mouths moved, lips slid, tongues fought, as hands roamed through crisp uniform and well-worn jacket, sliding underneath military breeches and rough trousers. Memories blossomed like fire, brought forth by the sounds and touches and tastes, so different, yet so familiar, ten years of experiences piling atop memories much cherished and well preserved. Skin once smooth now rough with callus and scars, breath that was fresh in memory instead flavoured with rum and salt, remembered smells of soap and sun replaced by the stench of gunpowder and sweat and blood. Breasts that were once small and developing were now full and hand-filling, the loose, carefree muscles now tight with tension and stress, hints of curves blooming into pronounced declarations of womanhood.

Anna had initiated, but it was her sister who committed. Fingers dug deep and pumped, curling, while thumb rubbed rapidly in circles, hand dug deep into the pirate's breeches. Anna's eyes fluttered as she panted, gripping the blonde and the chair with crushing strength, gasping as she revelled in the touch long-denied to her.

And yet, on the cusp of fulfilment, it all stopped, the movement, and Anna cursed and swore and damned her sister to the depths of Davy Jones' Locker, but she was unrelenting, she was always unmoveable in her stubbornness, her willpower and discipline unchanging no matter how hard Anna battered it with her love and hate and desperation.

"Say my name," the governor muttered into the pirate's ear.

Fingers twitched inside, hinting at the completion that lay just on the horizon.

Anna bit her lip, refusing to surrender, she'd never surrendered, she made her own fate.

Lips closed around her neck, biting, sucking hard, leaving a red, shining mark for all the world to see. Anna sobbed in ecstasy.

"Say my name," the blonde repeated, insistent, growling against the redhead's skin.

No, she wouldn't, she refused, she had chosen a life of piracy, a life on the run, she would not submit to the harsh, cruel reality of their father's, enforced by the woman she loved and hated.

Thumb pressed hard, nerves twitching in a violent spasm, desperate for release.

"Say my name," the lover said in the darkest of whispers, cold, hot, undeniable, unrelenting, as her rival cried and sobbed and begged.

And submitted.

"Elsa," Anna choked, her sister's name, her love's name, her enemy's name, her soul's name, an unending tumbling waterfall of emotions held back for over a decade, released in the thrill of the body and heart and mind. "Elsa, Elsa, Elsa, Elsa, Elsa."

Afterwards, when they were dressed and fixed, the candle relit, with the reality of the world outside hanging over their heads, with love buried under years of resentment and longing, the governor calmly informed the pirate that she was extending a pardon to the latter, and any others she could call to her banner. She would give up her life of piracy, return any stolen property still within her possession, and willingly turn over any weapons, ships and unclaimed riches to the glory and justice of His Grace King George. The pirates of Nassau would be free to leave unmolested so that they may reintegrate with the King's law and realm, poor but alive and unharmed. The pirate cheerfully told the governor that she could stick her peace treaty up the King's arse, and that Nassau was a republic of free men, beyond the reach of kings and lords.

They parted ways from the Roosting Gull tavern. The governor and her escort officer (who now sported a purpling bruise on one cheek) made their way back to their frigate, so that they might return to the Bahamas, escorted by three brigs. The pirate, nursing her promise-fulfilling knuckles, made her way down to her ship, the Albatross, so that she might get well and truly hammered on the fine wine stolen from a Spanish ship, alongside her old and most untrustworthy friend Flynn Rider.

Little had changed after the meeting from before. Pirates still lived as they pleased, kings still threatened to unleash the full force of their navy, two sisters still yearned for and despised the other for grievances nursed and raised by years of bitterness and longing, fed on dreams of what-ifs and should-haves.

There were only two changes to the situation, in truth. One was that the pirate captain was lighter by a small, hinged box, formerly carried in her pocket for luck, claiming that she was now above such superstitions.

The other was that the governor had somehow replaced her wedding ring with one which, despite being newer, seemed to be older, and those who kissed the hand of ambassador Hans's wife often noted to each other that it smelt rather queerly of rum.

Fin

A/N: I do love me a hurricane of euphemisms, followed by intense, angry emotion. Happy Elsanna Week again! I'll try to keep the fics going! Till then, see you next time!

Keep writing, keep reading, and keep being awesome!