{ Soft Angst }
Charles was quiet – there was nothing he could say here that would feel right in the face of what was going on around them. He knew Jack understood, on a logical level – and he respected the fact that Jack would never truly have reason to empathize with him on this front, especially what with the fact he would personally and single handedly behead an entire fucking army if that was what it took to ascertain the damnable fool never obtained the depth of familiarity necessary to realize exactly how fucked up this all was.
But that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Straightening up, he looked at the man steadily a moment, before nodding and taking his leave. It was time to address them – and though he knew their freedom stood at the end of this labour, it didn’t make the position any easier to swallow. It didn’t wash away the bile that had settled itself thickly in the back of his throat from the very moment he had realized what the fuck Jack had done, what he expected, what Nassau apparently needed.
Jack was going to be right there, alright. And he wasn’t going to like this one bit.
Striding forth into the square, he faced the situation before him and did what he knew was right. If he and Flint could not manage what Jack had failed to accomplish in their absence, and do so by honest means, then they had no right to call themselves leaders. And if Nassau could not survive without slaves –
Then the entire fucking place could burn like Charlestown. Every goddamn acre of it. He’d tear her to pieces with his own fucking hands before succumbing to this.
“You’re free to go.” His voice was pitched as loud as it could go – clear in the quiet of those who faced him. “Every one of you – should you wish to stay here – are welcome to find honest work. As for the rest – arrangements will be made for you to rejoin your people as soon as we are able.”
Jack wouldn’t understand. And frankly – he didn’t have to.
Ocean Archive 