A/N: Just a thought experiment I had one day about what would have happened if Izzy had found somebody who needed him and actually acknowledged his need to be appreciated, since Blackbeard never really has. Someone who could not only love him and help open his eyes, but smack his and Blackbeard's heads together when they're being violent idiots rather than just using their words.

WARNINGS: Excessive swearing, past rape/non-con, past abuse.

XXXX

Another day, another stupid, fucking pointless voyage to nowhere with Bonnet's inept crew. For a good fifteen minutes Izzy Hands, the resident pissed off first mate, had been drumming his gloved fingers across the gunwales as his eye twitched. What was going on? How had Blackbeard let this pathetic display go on this long? They were pirates, or at least they were meant to be; since being aboard the Revenge they'd certainly gone down hill. Izzy couldn't take it much longer.

The Swede called out then, loud and distressed as one of his long arms shot forward to point out over the port side. Izzy spun around having been unceremoniously yanked out of his inner grumblings, and suddenly realized just how bright the day was; his eyes stung as they adjusted. Everybody on deck hurtled toward the port side of the vessel and peered out at the distant smouldering of a ship. It was maybe a half nautical mile away and almost entirely sunk. No screams came and what had been on fire was practically out already so this wasn't fresh.

"Mister Buttons, if you wouldn't mind taking us in for a look." Said Stede as he pulled out his spyglass to take a better view.

The man with silver threaded through his dark hair cavilled. "It might be almost out but that fucking ship is still on fire, Bonnet!"

"Oh pish posh, Izzy, we'll keep a distance." He responded while peering through the spyglass. "Well that's unexpected. It would seem that ship is a Prussian naval vessel judging by their flag."

Upon hearing that information Izzy practically leapt up the stairs to the quarterdeck where Captain Bonnet stood and snatched the spyglass from him; an act which earned a 'rude' from the blond. If that ship actually was Prussian navy then lingering really wasn't a good idea. Yep, definitely Prussian, said Izzy's mind as he took a look for himself. What had caused so much destruction? What was left above the water seemed mostly burnt rather than splintered like one would expect had they been taken out by cannon fire. The first mate continued to mentally mutter to himself as he tossed the spyglass back. The Prussians weren't normally in this area and the whole thing didn't sit right with Izzy.

"What we got, Iz?" Blackbeard questioned as he appeared on deck clearly curious about the heading change.

"Sinking naval vessel, Captain. Looks like it's Prussian and it was on fucking fire until pretty fucking recently. Guess the powder could have blown." Blackbeard stopped right between Stede and Izzy himself. "We should leave."

Another cry called Izzy out of his thoughts then though this one came from a slightly hysterical Frenchie.

"Girl! There's a damn girl in the water, guys."

Once again everyone rushed to the edge to look over, everyone including the two captains and first mate. Sure enough there was a young woman floating along resting on nothing but a splintered piece of what had once been hull.

"Hey! You dead?!" Yelled Black Pete as he stretched to see her better.

No response came from the brunette; or maybe it was auburn and just too wet to tell. She didn't move in the slightest but still Stede gave out quick orders to haul the girl aboard; a task which proved to be really rather easy. As soon as they had her in their grasp Wee John took the bulk of her dead weight so he could carefully lay her down on the upper deck. Sea water poured from her hair and white slip, it splattered down onto the wood and pooled around her tiny frame. She still didn't move, clearly unconscious and face down. Didn't take long for most of the crew to gather around her curiously while a murmuring settled amongst them.

Pissed off and eager to leave the area, Izzy marched over and shoved Lucius out of the way so he could crouch down beside this female to check on her. She may have looked like a drowned cat but she was certainly alive. Didn't seem like there was any water in her lungs either which genuinely amazed him. He pushed at her shoulder so she rolled onto her back revealing a diagonal gash across her left cheek which started from just below her ear and ended underneath her eye. Everything that had happened to that ship and this was the only injury she'd gotten; something of a miracle. Izzy found himself more focused on her age though, she was little more than a child, mid teens maybe, and then his blue orbs panned downward to where her slip had rode up her thighs during the jostling. Bruises. All over her upper thighs were fingertip bruises of purple, yellow and a disturbing shade of green. These had come from hands, somebody had held this girl's legs apart violently. Before he knew it Izzy had brushed the fingers of his gloved hand over them, and that was when an accented voice reached his ears.

"Please don't be like them."

Izzy peered downward until his eyes met terrified green ones and in an instant he retracted his hand. She looked so small and fragile.

"I don't rape kids." Was all he said before she passed out again.

Izzy looked through the gap in the crowed he'd made to his perfect captain. "Regardless of what happened here, Blackbeard, we should go before someone comes to investigate."

The bearded man nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we should."

With that the ship's heading was altered and the Revenge made her escape. The crowd didn't disperse though, not when this girl was so new and interesting to them.

"Er, what are we gonna do with her?" The chubby black man known as Oluwande asked with a puzzled expression.

Fang shrugged. "We could take her below … get her out of those wet clothes."

Fucking perverts! "I'll take her!" Izzy insisted. "She doesn't need you fuckers salivating over her."

With that he lifted the teenager into his arms bridal style, a wet but surprisingly light weight in his linen-clad arms. Once he was sure he'd not drop her Izzy marched away from the gawkers and down to the tiny room he'd commandeered as his own.

Sure his cabin was pretty much just a bed and a small table shoved against a wall but that was more or less all Izzy needed. Uncaring that the girl was dripping ocean water he set her down on his berth and that was when he noticed yet more marks. Her wrists had rope burns defacing her porcelain skin; two angry red rings on either wrist with sections of scabbed and partially healed cuts. Captive.

Izzy shook his head in utter confusion. This girl was a teenager, who would have bound and used her like this? And why the fuck had she been on a Prussian navel ship?! The man with salt and pepper hair wanted to leave her to sleep and question her later, but she was soaking wet. She was also unconscious so he just accepted his only choice was to bite the bullet and quickly pulled her slip over her head. Izzy tossed it aside then covered her over with his rather shitty blanket having paused only to digest the sight of a plethora of vicious looking bruises over her torso. Some had yellowed with age while others were fresh, just formed. Israel Hands had done bad things in his life but he'd never abused a kid, especially not a girl. As if to prove he wasn't the best of men, Izzy couldn't help mentally filing away the knowledge that she had fucking fantastic breasts for a teenager.

"Now who's salivating over her?" He questioned himself with a groan.

There wasn't much he could do about her wet hair for the moment so Izzy decided he'd done his best for the time being and lay her dress out on the small table before he abandoned the cabin.

Up on deck he was grateful to find the commotion caused by the girl's arrival had reached and end. Last thing Izzy wanted was to deal with assholes with a new bit of gossip. However, it wasn't long before Frenchie and his fluffy hair scooted over to the first mate to ask if the teenager needed someone to watch over her. Izzy lifted an eyebrow as he regarded the dark-skinned man with an incredulous expression.

"Take your fucking cock and fuck off."

Frenchie nodded to himself. "Yeah, didn't think you'd go for that. Had to try though, right? I've been at sea a real long time."

Izzy ignored whatever ramblings tumbled from Frenchie's lips in favor of just walking away to where the twat known as Bonnet and Blackbeard stood at the bow. What the actual hell did Blackbeard find so fucking enamoring with the damn ponce? What could have possibly been worth lingering on such a pathetic excuse for a pirate ship? Before he could get any further into his internal rage Stede's voice pulled him out.

"Ah, Mister Hands, lovely. How is our guest?"

Izzy wouldn't sugar coat it, especially for the likes of Stede fucking Bonnet.

"She's alive but some fucker has kicked the absolute shit out of her, and she's more than likely been raped."

The blond's eyes widened with shock and outrage. "Poor girl."

Izzy could have rolled his eyes. Stating the fucking obvious wouldn't help her. Then again this was Stede Bonnet they were talking about, the most useless pirate to have ever lived, it was ridiculous to think he'd offer anything of actual value. Izzy turned his attention to his adored captain who still gazed out toward the slowly sinking ship. It was almost out of sight at this point, just a small speck that would soon be on the horizon.

"I couldn't see any cannon damage on that ship. It wasn't in a battle." Blackbeard mused aloud.

"A fire caused by a lantern perhaps?" Stede offered but it only had the bearded man shaking his head.

"Navy ships are crawling with men, they'd have put that out before it got out of hand." Izzy couldn't resist the urge to point out how stupid the blond was. "They all knew the risks of unattended lanterns burning." He turned his attention to his captain. "I'll question the girl when she wakes up. Not like a load of dead Prussians affects us."

"Yeah, he's right, Stede. Now, weren't we gonna have tea?"

"By Jove, we were. I'd totally forgotten."

With that the two captains – one a legend and another a total buffoon – strode away, practically arm in arm, from Izzy and the topic of their new guest like they'd never existed. Izzy just growled under his breath. He truly couldn't take much more of this charade, it was inane. Every single day more and more of the great Blackbeard drained away and it was all Stede Bonnet's goddamn fault! He'd got them running around playing best friends when it was Izzy who'd been by Blackbeard's side all these years, the voice of reason when he did something fucking stupid like lighting his beard on fire, or nearly getting himself killed. He had protected his captain, stood by him and then Bonnet had come along to ruin his life. He'd been pushed aside for some birdbrained asshole! The whole thing made Izzy's blood boil.

Still, he was the only one who seemed to be ensuring that the Revenge didn't fall apart around them so he supposed he'd better get to allocating jobs. Sails needed repairing and the hull needed scraping. Izzy had given up getting Lucius to actually do any real work, even if he was forced to do something he'd not do it properly just to spite the first mate.

~X~

Roughly an hour later, when he'd actually assured jobs were being done, Izzy made his way up to the quarterdeck to start measuring with his Jacob's staff. Izzy Hands didn't trust Bonnet's crew to navigate themselves to the hold let alone chart their course. First mates weren't meant to navigate, that should have been a sailing master's job, but Izzy had particular talent for it so Blackbeard had just entrusted the task to him and Izzy couldn't refused his beloved captain. His eyes were drawn away from his work a moment when that damn seagull Buttons was always talking to landed pretty much right beside him. At first he thought he could ignore the annoying thing but then it started squawking and just wouldn't shut up.

"Fuck off bird or I'll have you stuffed." He growled in his usual tone.

As normal Buttons just extracted himself from the woodwork to jabber in his half-unintelligible speech.

"Ah, Karl is just being curious like. He doesnae mean anything by it."

Izzy lifted an eyebrow of utter puzzlement. "You named a bird Karl?"

Buttons shook his head. "Nah, it were already his name, he just told me what it was."

"I don't give a shit what the bird is called." With that he swiped at Karl who promptly flew up only to launch at Izzy like some rabid dog. Izzy's arm shot upward to defend his face as the damn bird tried to peck and claw at him. "Fucking bird!"

As Izzy brought out his flintlock Karl flapped away to freedom like nothing had ever happened. What was actually wrong with this fucking ship? The captain was a pathetic excuse for one, the crew was totally inept and even the damn wildlife had gone crazy. With his eye twitching for what must have been the fifteenth time just that day, he slipped his pistol away only slightly pissed off that it was unfired.

"I wouldnae upset Karl, he's a fighter."

And on that note Izzy was officially done with whatever this strange conversation was, so he just stopped talking to the bizarre Scotsman. Fortunately for Izzy, Buttons took the hint to shut up and leave really rather quickly. That left Izzy in another bubble of bliss for a few hours to actually get some shit done to keep the fuckings ship afloat. However, the girl in his cabin remained on his mind the entire time and refused to give him even a moment of peace. Every few seconds he came up with another question to grill her with before he reminded himself she was basically a little girl and would likely yield little of interest. He had more important things to do that slip into curiosity about their newcomer like Bonnet's crew. So that was what Izzy did, shoved as much of the auburn-haired girl from his mind as he could. He wasn't a bleeding heart, that was more of Bonnet's thing. Fucking twat!

~X~

Dusk had fallen when Izzy finally made his way back below deck. A rather refreshing breeze had been travelling through the ship all day so he was pleased to find the inner vessel wasn't stuffy as was a common occurrence. The water was calm and peaceful as well so the leather-clad man stood a good chance of getting a decent night of slumber. One boon I guess.

When Izzy reached his quarters he took a calming breath then simply walked inside. It was his cabin so there was no way in hell he'd let himself be reduced to knocking. Fuck that! His cabin couldn't be described as any other size than tiny; there wasn't any porthole either so the place was pretty much pitch black when he strode in. Without even thinking he lit the lantern which hung from a hook in the middle of the room that cast a comforting orange glow around the cabin. A wisp of smoke danced its way around the room leaving a lingering scent that was oddly as comforting as the orange flicker itself.

Only then did Izzy noticed a reasonably long, though strangely straight, rip to the left sleeve of his black shirt.

He sighed deeply. "For fucks sake! I'm not made of fucking shirts; I've only got two!"

Izzy yanked a small wooden box off the tiny table that called the corner to the right of the door home, and threw it open revealing the few oddments he owned. From somewhere near the bottom he fished out a needle and black thread that didn't see much use. Sewing was not Izzy's forte but he could repair a shirt to a satisfactory level at least. I'm not fucking useless, he growled inside his mind.

Then Izzy started to pull off his leather waistcoat as he continued to grumble to himself. This tear was that fucking bird's fault; Izzy knew he should have shot the bastard when he'd had chance. The black leather was tossed down onto the table beside his needle and thread before he started to untuck his shirt. That was when he just happened to turn around and see a set of green eyes peeking out from auburn hair staring at him.

"Shit."

How the actual fuck had he forgotten about her? One little cut in his shirt and he just forgot about the teenager practically camped out in his cabin? Maybe he was more exhausted than he'd first thought.

The girl had practically curled in on herself and wedged into the corner of the bed in an attempt to be as compact as possible. Though dried her hair remained a mess and blanketed her face as her only form of defence.

Izzy sighed, yelling at himself probably hadn't helped the situation. He tabled his repairs for a moment so he could turn to face the girl fully. She'd pulled his blanket around her slender body and Izzy couldn't quite get passed just how small she appeared. He opened his mouth but she looked so scared that he wasn't entirely sure how to begin. While up on deck he'd had question upon question but now he was sort of at a loss. People had been scared of him before but this teenager was nothing more than a girl with a gash over her cheek. He was a fully grown man who'd been growling to himself and blocking the door, then to top things off he'd started removing his clothes; in hindsight he couldn't blame her.

"You're all right, little lass, I won't hurt you." He said as nicely as he could muster.

She didn't believe him, that was pretty obvious and Izzy found he couldn't blame her for that either. If roles had been reversed he wouldn't have believed him either. Just to get it over with his yanked off his damaged shirt, snatched up his only other, pulled it over his head and slipped on his waistcoat as quickly as he was able. Fully dressed in front of this child, that was a good idea, a safe idea.

When he approached she shuffled further into the corner which was utterly pointless because there wasn't anywhere for her to go. His bed pressed up against a wall on three sides.

He raked a hand down his face and through his gray facial hair while he tried to think of his best course of action. Ultimately Izzy determined that he needed to appear disarming, so Izzy crouched down beside the bed and raised his hands non-threateningly.

"I said I wont hurt you and I meant it. Remember up on deck? I said I don't rape kids." The emerald-eyed girl just continued to stare at him with agitation and dread. "No one else from your ship was left alive. Just you. You're the only one who can tell us what the hell happened."

Still she said nothing which earned yet another sigh from the first mate. The cut under her eye had scabbed over and, while red and a little swollen, didn't appear infected so that was a good sign. There wasn't a single doubt in Izzy's mind though that it would scar; he had enough of his own to know that.

"You're probably hungry." He said as his next attempt to get more than fear out of her. "The useless twats known as the crew get to eat so why shouldn't you." He spoke more to himself than her. "I'll em, I'll get you something. Stay here."

With that Izzy rose back to his full – not very impressive – height and slipped out of the cabin. He wasn't good with people, he knew it, everyone knew it. Perhaps the idea of passing her off to someone more personable hadn't been all that bad.

Fortunately for Izzy, Roach nor anyone else had been in the galley when he'd entered so scrounging up a plate of food and some water for her hadn't been too difficult. When he returned to the tiny room she was still perched on the bed wrapped inside his blanket so he just placed the plate and cup of water beside her then backed up again. The meal wasn't anything all that interesting, just an orange and some salted meat they'd picked up at their last resupply. Didn't matter, food was food.

"Go on, eat." He encouraged, though this was Israel Hands so it came out unintentionally as an order.

Izzy leaned himself against the small table only to notice that things weren't where he'd left them. The needle and thread were no longer on the table but back in the tiny box of his things. Suspicion surged within him then since it was his nature. He lifted his shirt that now hung over the back of the chair pushed under the table and peered closely at the sleeve. Fixed! It had been sewn shut. Izzy hadn't been gone that long surely. Okay so maybe he'd paused a few minutes to think threw his options with this girl but still.

"You fixed my shirt?" She just looked at him while she tentatively reached out for the orange so she could peel it. Izzy lifted an eyebrow. "Do you even understand English?"

"Ja, Master."

"Now we're getting somewhere."

Quietly she freed a segment of juicy orange and slipped it into her mouth before returning the peel to the plate tidily. Honestly Izzy was surprised she insisted on eating with quite so much lady-like determination.

"You fixed my shirt." He repeated.

" … I wanted to be helpful, Master." She spoke with an obvious accent.

"Don't call me 'master', little lass, I'm not your owner." That didn't seem to occur to the girl though.

"You said I was the only one found alive. My master is dead so you are my new one."

What the fuck have people been teaching this girl? Her voice was so quiet like she'd expected to be beaten any second for the audacity of speaking, so Izzy tried to show some unusual kindness and let the topic drop.

Having tossed the shirt onto the table, Izzy pulled out the wooden chair and seated himself so he could look at her with his arms folded.

"You got a name?"

She hesitated a moment as she finished another segment of orange. "Wilhelmina Dagmar Kornelia von Krieger."

Izzy lifted an eyebrow. "You got a nickname?"

"… Willa." With her accent the 'W' sound came out more as a 'V'.

"That's easier." He told her. "I'm Izzy Hands, Blackbeard's first mate."

The girl – Willa – paled, her hands stilled on the orange half way to her mouth and stunning emerald orbs widened in terror. It was good to see Blackbeard still struck fear into the hearts of all who heard his name.

"… Bl- Blackbeard?"

The man with salt and pepper hair chuckled but not with malice. "Nothing to worry about, lass, he's not interested in you."

Yet again Willa didn't seem to believe him and yet again Izzy didn't blame her. He reached for her slip which still lay crumbled but at least it was now dry. Without a thought he tossed it over to the bed for her.

"That's dried off so you can get dressed." To be honest he probably should have given back her slip at the very beginning.

Blue eyes watched as she returned what was left of her orange to her plate, pushed it aside and stood. The blanket fell to the floor leaving her naked as she reached for her slip. A better man would have turned his back but Izzy had been at sea a long time and the sight of a woman wasn't something he could so easily give up. However, he noticed the bruises again and suddenly it was them he couldn't look away from. Henrietta – no, he couldn't think of her, it was too painful. Izzy had seen the horrid bruises on her thighs when they'd fished her out the drink but even to a man such as Israel Hands these were bad. Rope burns, purple and green bruises and even bite marks on her stomach and breasts; breasts he begrudgingly had to admit were pretty damn large for such a young girl.

Willa didn't seem to have any complaint about him watching her, she was clearly used to it and for some reason that made Izzy surge with anger. He wasn't a good person, not a kind man, but children deserved to be innocent. He hadn't had much innocence growing up, nor had Blackbeard or any other person he'd come across really.

A painful hiss escaped her dry lips then as she tried to pull her slip over her head, and before he knew what he was doing Izzy had rose to his feet so he could assist her by guiding the white fabric until it fell down to her feet covering her nakedness.

Willa didn't speak, just kept her eyes downcast now he was so close. Izzy couldn't take it any longer, he had to fucking ask.

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen, Master."

"You really are a little lass then." His blue orbs glanced down to her now covered breasts then back to her porcelain face. "Well, in most areas."

Willa just continued to stand there. Izzy was annoyingly aware that he hadn't ever been the tallest man in the world, just about everybody he met was taller – it was why he'd ended up becoming quite so rabid-dog; needed to make even the tallest of men feel intimidated. So it was nice to be around someone he didn't have to crane his neck to look at. Willa couldn't have been taller than five-foot-two, maybe five-three at a stretch. She came up to his chin and was extraordinarily skinny. Without permission his hand lifted to tuck a stray lock of auburn hair behind her ear. What the fuck is happening to me?! Since when am I fucking nice to people? He instantly got hold of himself and forced his hand back down before it could make contact with her hair. Izzy cleared his throat and backed up a couple of steps. I'm not sleeping enough, that has to be it.

"Eat your food, lass." He insisted as he returned the chair to its normal place.

Didn't look like Willa needed telling twice because almost instantly she'd returned to her spot on the bed with her plate.

"Since you're feeling a little more chatty now and I'd like my questions answering, let's have a conversation. Judging by the accent and the 'ja' I'm guessing you're Prussian, yes?"

Willa nodded. "Mostly, Master."

Izzy's brow furrowed. "What does 'mostly' mean?"

Again that hesitant expression crossed her face but Izzy wasn't kept waiting long for an answer.

" … My mother was Danish."

"Huh, good for her." He didn't care. "Now, that ship was a Prussian naval vessel, not a merchant. There is zero reason for a woman, especially one so young, to be on a ship such as that. Nor is there any reason for said woman to have been beaten to a fucking pulp. Why were you on board?"

Willa swallowed the last piece of her orange and reached for a piece of salted meat. "Mein Meister insisted."

"Ah, so we're back to the now-dead master. What was this fucker's name?"

"Kommodore Otto Hohenstaufen." She reeled off like that name wasn't hard to pronounce.

"Shit." Grumbled Izzy. "If a fucking commodore was on that ship then others really would have eventually appeared to investigate." He spoke the last bit mostly to himself but still Willa drew in on herself as savage memories threatened to overtake her.

"With a name like von Krieger you weren't picked up at some slave market, were you, you're a noble. Kidnapped." Prussian commodores kidnapping teenage girls doesn't make sense though.

Willa shook her head slightly. "My father owed a great debt to Kommodore Hohenstaufen." She dropped her piece of meat having lost her appetite all of a sudden. "It would have likely bankrupted him."

Izzy sighed, he knew exactly what that comment meant. "And you were better payment than coin. Doesn't matter now, the commodore fucker is at the bottom of the sea getting his dick ripped off by sharks."

Much to his surprise Willa let out the tiniest of laughs, a gentle noise that could put any siren to shame. Looked like this Hohenstaufen asshole hadn't completely broken her will. That's good, she's a strong one. Then again, if her father really did sell her to pay off a debt she's probably had no choice but to get strong. Izzy could understand that, respect it even.

"The ship can't have been attacked; there was no trace of a battle. Tell me what happened, lass." This was the crux of the issue. Prussians couldn't have been quite that incompetent.

She pulled her knees up to her chest so she could rest her chin there. She wasn't comfortable but Izzy didn't care, he just needed to know what had happened.

"I don't know, Master, I was tied to my last master's bed." She told the older man, her voice quavered ever so slightly. "Everything was normal and then – then there was a huge bang and people started screaming." Willa took a calming but quick breath. "I smelt smoke."

Izzy folded his arms over his chest as he listened to her story. Eyes red, hair everywhere and dark circles underneath what would otherwise be beautiful eyes; Izzy actually felt bad for her and he cared for no one but his beloved captain.

"Sure it was an explosion and not cannon fire?" The Prussian noble nodded.

"There was only one and then everything was on fire."

The pirate let out a little hum sound. "Considering you're alive I'm guessing you managed to get free. So what happened when you got on deck?"

He had to get all the information out of her he could while she felt chatty. Those Izzy Hands interrogated weren't normally very talkative, certainly not until he'd worked them over a little bit for fun.

She stuttered. "There was so much fire and people running around. I tripped and-" She cut herself off and gestured to her face where it was injured. "I got back up but – I think something hit me. The next thing I knew you were over me, Master."

Izzy straightened up and rested one hand on the hilt of his sword. "Stay here and drink your damn water."

With that the first mate left his room once more and headed off to find Captain Blackbeard. Tracking down the bearded man proved to be a much tougher challenge than initially anticipated and a good third of the Revenge had been checked before Izzy finally spotted him up on the fighting top with a bottle of rum. Frankly Izzy was just pleased that Bonnet wasn't there with him.

He made quick work of reaching Blackbeard and once again savored that cooling breeze. Darkness had officially pushed day aside to bring forth the night. The moon popped out from behind large clouds every now and again like a child peeking through its fingers. A sweet scent clung to the night air as well; the sea air in the evening really was a gift only sailors got to partake in.

"Got a report for you on that ship and the girl, Edward." Announced Izzy as soon as he reached the fighting deck but Blackbeard didn't look away from the sea.

"And?"

"It sounds to me like the powder did go up. Probably some stupid powder monkey being a damn twat. They weren't attacked." He paused barely a moment. "The girl is a noble's daughter, she was being kept as a sex slave." Oh that got Blackbeard to look at Izzy finally only to glug down some more rum like an aid. "Her name's Wilhelmina von Krieger."

"Noble's daughter huh? Think we can sell her back to her family?"

Izzy practically snorted. "Not a chance. Looks like dear old dad is a bad gambler and sold her to clear his debt. He doesn't want her back and even if he did there's no way he could pay a ransom."

"Shame," began the bearded captain with a sigh, "could have been the first coin we've seen in a while."

"Aye, could have." He ran his gloveless hand through his hair pushing it back into place after his climb. "We can just dump her when we next make port."

Blackbeard's brow furrowed deeply. "Isn't that a bit cruel? To just dump a kid in an unknown port and wave at her like 'toodles, kid, have a nice life'?" He even went so far as to mime a little wave which looked more like an action of fucking Bonnet than the fearsome Blackbeard. "She'd be dead in an alleyway or working in a brothel by sundown."

The old Blackbeard wouldn't have thought twice about that, he'd have just dumped her at the first convenient spot or sold her off to slavers himself; never thought about her again. That was Izzy's captain, the one he watched drift away a little more each day. Still, when Izzy paused to think about it he didn't want to just toss Willa away to fend for herself either. Maybe Izzy wasn't a total asshole after all.

He shrugged. "Guess we can find something useful for her to do. She's already fixed my shirt so at the very least she can repair clothing. She can't be any more useless than the rest of the crew. Sounds like she speaks German and probably Danish, possibly some other languages too, so that could be useful."

Blackbeard nodded in agreement. "Having a translator would be useful. She know letters? We could make use of the cargo manifests if she does. Nobles all read and write, don't they?"

"Aye, she's literate."

"We'll keep her for now then, or at least until we get the real story out of her."

The first mate cocked an eyebrow. "Real story, Edward?"

"You're telling me a teenage girl who weights practically nothing survived in the water alone for fuck knows how long, but not a single navy man?" He gazed up at Izzy as though he were stupid. "Doesn't that seem suspicious to you? Not normal? We all saw her when she was fished out the ocean. Wait, she said something to you, what was it?"

"She said 'please don't be like them'. I assume she meant her dad and the cunt who was raping her."

"Hmm, so she thinks we're all going to hurt her the same way and yet she just tells you everything that happened in detail almost as soon as she's conscious again? Either that girl's got the mental strength of a god or she's lying or, you know, both." Blackbeard helped himself to another swig of rum.

"I'll admit it seems dodgy but she is a kid." Said Izzy. He'd thought her a little surprising in her sharing but he honestly didn't have much experience with teenage girls let alone abused ones.

"Iz, if there is one lesson I can teach you above all else it is to never underestimate children. Kids lie, steal, manipulate and they sure as hell can kill." He let his head tilt to rest against the rigging. "I'm curious about this Wilhelmina. She's your responsibility now, Izzy. You know, feed her, make sure one of the crew doesn't accidentally stab her when she rounds a corner."

The first mate huffed out a laugh in that gravelly baritone of his. "Aye, Captain."

"Keep her in your cabin too."

Izzy sighed exasperatedly. "Edward, can't I just chuck her in the larder and be done with her. She could sleep in the hold."

"No." Announced the darker-skinned man quickly. "Someone needs to keep an eye on her and she's already in your cabin."

"Fine." Izzy agreed begrudgingly; the things he did for his captain. "At least she's small and won't take up too much room."

"Good, now off with you. I want to be alone."

Oh Izzy wasn't pleased about being dismissed quite so quickly but obeyed and headed down leaving his adored captain in peace. His captain was right about Willa though, she had given information too freely, much too freely. If Kommodore Hohenstaufen really had kept her as a slave she surely should have been hiding under the bed away from him. Then to top things off he'd not even questioned her about it, just taken it at face value and carried on. Fuck! Bonnet's twattery is brushing off on me too. Izzy couldn't stand for that. No, never that.

He just stood by the mast for a few moments as he tried to shove his urge to just split the posh fucker in twain.

"Everythin' alright there, mate?" Asked Buttons from his usual place by the wheel. "It's about supper time if yer hungry."

"Shut the fuck up." He growled as he stormed away below deck. "Christ, why does everyone on this stupid fucking ship never shut up?!"

Alone in the passageways Izzy found himself being brought to an embarrassing halt as his stomach gurgled hungrily He racked his brain trying to remember when he'd last eaten but for the life of him he didn't get anywhere. Food, food was a good idea, food could be his distraction even if it would only be fore a few minutes.

XXXX

A/N: Okay I'll level with you, Wilhelmina was originally going to be Wilhelm and this was going to be all gay and perfectly fluffy in the right places. However! As I got to the middle of chapter 3-ish I noticed that it wasn't really working, the display of innocence came off as self-absorbed, which I totally didn't want, and conversations between Wilhelm and Blackbeard or Wilhelm and Stede just didn't flow very well with what I was going for. Then there was the interactions with Izzy, they functioned but I needed someone who could bring his guard down, even just a little, and Wilhelm didn't quite do that. So, after much thought I decided to change Wilhelm to Wilhelmina, alter the personality a little, and personally felt that everything flowed a lot better.