'He's not coming', Ed thought with despondency as he sat at the edge of their getaway pier, staring up at the stars in the night sky.
Stede was late. Way late.
On the distant horizon, the inky blackness was slowly beginning to yield to the first purple rays of dawn. The dinghy tied to the mooring by his feet was gently bobbing in the waves. Everything was ready, but where was Stede?
'I shouldn't have asked him to run away to China with me. Fucking stupid! He did say that it was pretty far away. Why didn't I think of something closer? Or maybe I scared him off with that kiss, I shouldn't've….'
Crack!
Ed was up and in a crouch on the pier at the sound of the snapped twig. He scanned the dark tree line at the end of the beach. "Stede?" he whispered.
Crack, crack.
Ed moved silently down the pier and onto the sand, eyes darting around frantically in search for a weapon, but there was nothing; not even a decent-sized rock. If those were English soldiers approaching…. he melted into the cover of shadows between two tree trunks just in time to see a body stumble out onto the beach from the woods, breathing raggedly.
White shirt, blond hair…Stede let out a startled yelp as Ed rushed to envelop him in a bear hug from behind.
"Ed! Oh, thank goodness…."
"Where were you, man? I was worried about you." Ed twisted Stede around, looking him over out of sheer force of habit, checking for injuries. He seemed whole.
"I know, I'm sorry, I lost my way." Stede grimaced. "Everything looked so different at night and the guard didn't give me a torch and I've never been this way before…"
'He did want to come, I haven't scared him off!' The relief was too great. Ed pulled Stede into another hug, crushing him against his chest, and after a few startled seconds he felt Stede's arms encircle him tentatively.
"Ed, are you all right?"
Ed nodded into Stede's shoulder, giving himself another moment to enjoy the warmth of his skin before he reluctantly disentangled himself. "Yeah. Yeah, mate, I'm just glad you're here, is all."
"Of course I am. We have an escape appointment to keep, after all." Stede smiled and nodded at the pier. "Shall we?"
Ed felt the corners of his mouth go up in response. "Yeah, let's get the fuck to it, then." He took Stede's hand and pulled him along towards the dock. Two minutes later they were in the dinghy, shoulder to shoulder, each manning an oar as they rowed away from the moorings. They were less than a dozen strokes into their journey when Stede said, "Ed?"
"Hm?"
"Correct me if I'm wrong, but…. were you worried that I wouldn't show up at all?"
"What? No." Ed was aiming for a dismissive tone, but one glance at Stede's raised eyebrows told him that he wasn't fooling anyone. He sighed. "I mean…I just thought for a moment that you might've changed your mind."
Stede looked puzzled. "Why would I do that?"
"China's pretty far away." By now they were looking at each other, their rowing slowing down to little more than a crawl until Stede cleared his throat.
"You know, when I got back to the academy from the beach, I couldn't sleep, so I had plenty of time to think. And while I haven't been able to come up with any cool names for us yet, I have had a different revelation of sort." A wave jostled the dinghy and Stede fumbled with his oar for a moment before he continued, "When I left home it was to find happiness on the open seas. I was very determined, and eventually I turned out to be happier on the Revenge with my ragtag crew of misfits than I've ever been in my married life. Then I went and got myself stabbed and hanged, and the next thing I know is you sitting at the edge of my bed, introducing yourself as Ed." Stede took a breath, let it out with a smile. "My life changed that day, I just didn't know it yet. And over the course of the next few weeks, I gradually came to realize that there was an entirely new level of happiness that I never even knew existed."
Stede's mouth formed that little half-smile Ed liked so much on his face. "Being with you – it wasn't just the best time I've had on the ship so far, it's been the best time I've had in my life so far. You were the last puzzle piece to make my happiness complete." Stede hesitated for a moment, then went on. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that, as long as we're together, I'd go anywhere with you."
Ed's rhythm faltered and he gave up rowing altogether to gaze at Stede, heart in his throat. Stede held his gaze, intent, open and so honest that Ed wanted nothing more than to cradle that handsome face in his hands and kiss him senseless. Stede's rum-brown eyes glinted in the weak light of the breaking dawn and If Ed were to lean in right now, Stede wouldn't pull away…
Suddenly, movement and light in the distance broke the spell. Torches at the end of the dock, half a dozen of them.
"Fuck," Ed spat out and even Stede cursed under his breath.
"I didn't think I was being followed," he said, dismayed. "I didn't hear anyone else in the forest."
Ed's expression was thunderous. "More likely that piece of shit guard ratted us out." He cursed again.
Faint voices drifted towards them from the distant dock, the words unintelligible but the meaning more than clear. They had been spotted.
"Come on," Ed said, "we need to get to the Revenge. Izzy still has her anchored out there somewhere. Our window of escape just got smaller." He resumed rowing with renewed vigor. Stede followed suit.
Mercifully, due to their combined efforts, the Revenge came into view much quicker than they expected. As Ed and Stede tied up alongside her and clambered up the rope ladder, voices and noises of a commotion drifted towards them from the main deck.
The scene on deck was chaotic, and Ed realized right away that they were about to interrupt a highly charged situation. The entire crew was crowded around the rail on the other side of the deck, a squirming Izzy Hands held up between them, bound and tied to an anchor. Everyone was talking, Izzy was wailing and no one was looking their way.
"What are they doing?" Stede asked, somewhat dumbly.
"Looks like a mutiny."
"Ah. Well, we should probably save him," Stede said without hesitation and hauled himself over the gunwale. "Hey, everyone!" he yelled at the same time as Black Pete spotted them both. Every single man froze, staring in bafflement as Ed joined Stede on the deck.
"We're back!" Stede beamed at them all. "Izzy, we'll take tea in our room," he declared and turned towards the captain's quarters, followed by most of his crew, all talking over each other and yelling questions at their captain.
Ed, however, made a beeline for his former crew mates. Izzy looked thunderstruck, standing between an equally bewildered Fang and Ivan, all three of them staring at his beardless face.
"Fuck the tea," he growled. "Fang, Ivan, put him in the brig."
"Edward…." Izzy began while Ivan untied the anchor rope from his ankles, but Ed rounded on him, eyes blazing as he got into his former first mate's face.
"Shut up, and don't think for a second that you're off the hook. We'll have words. But right now I've got more pressing shit to deal with."
Ivan and Fang grabbed a hold of Izzy's arms and dragged him away. Ed glared at Hands' retreating back until they were through the door before he bounded up the stairs to the helm where Buttons greeted him with his customary unflappable expression.
"Welcome back, Cap'n. I reckon ye'll be wantin' me to set her into the wind?"
"The sooner the better, mate," Ed agreed while he scanned the ever-lightening horizon. "We need to haul ass out of here somethin' fierce."
The call came much sooner than Stede anticipated it. He had barely changed back into one of his own outfits again when Buttons' voice drifted through an open window of the captain's quarters.
"Sail off the port aft, Cap'ns!"
He was up at the helm not a minute later to find Ed already leaning over the railing, extending a telescope. Stede squinted into the dawn, but couldn't make out any details other than a small white triangle still far behind them in the distance. He held his breath, waiting for either Buttons' or Ed's analysis. It didn't take long. Buttons' apparently superhuman eyesight beat Ed to it.
"Yup, it's the English," he said. "Navy, from the looks of it."
"Fuck a duck!" Ed swore, still squinting into the spyglass. "I was hoping they'd give us more of a head start." He kept the telescope trained on the vessel on the horizon for a while longer. "One frigate, looks like about twenty guns," he concluded, snapping the spyglass closed with a sharp click. A look traveled between him and Buttons that Stede couldn't interpret.
"That's a small 'un, but still bigger than we are," Buttons observed, "and at this rate, she'll be upon us in a few hours."
Stede's stomach clenched. He had no doubt that Buttons was right. He looked wildly back and forth between their pursuer, Ed, and his helmsman. "Then we need to go faster!"
"For that, we need t' be lighter," Buttons pointed out. Olivia bobbed her head.
"We could throw the library overboard," Edward suggested, but threw up his palms in defense as Stede gasped and stared at him with what must have been an unequivocally terrified look on his face.
"All right, maybe not. Last resort. Probably wouldn't make a difference anyways."
The three of them looked silently across the water where the speck of sail was already growing in size against the backdrop of the horizon while on the main deck below them, more of the crew were gathering along the gunwale as word of their pursuer spread across the ship.
"Now what?" Stede queried, but Ed didn't respond. Instead, he stared at the approaching ship, then looked up at the sky, over his shoulder at the sails, and back up at the heavens.
"We'll give the bastards a run for their money anyways."
He beckoned to Fang and Ivan. "Get as many of these gits together as can be spared, get buckets and form a line," he instructed them as they trotted up the stairs. "Let's wet the sails."
"Aye, Cap'n."
"Wet the sails?" Stede frowned in confusion, but Ed was already moving, hurrying after his crewmates.
"He'll explain it," he called over his shoulder and Stede glanced at Mr. Buttons.
The helmsman gave him a look that clearly said landlubber, before he pointed at the unfurled canvasses. "The seawater tightens the material, traps more air that way an' makes the sails draw better…"
Stede was already nodding enthusiastically. "…thus increasing speed," he concluded and his face split into a grin. "Ingenious." He turned towards the top of the stairs and surveyed the main deck. "Where is Lucius? This definitely needs to go into the Useful Tips section."
He spotted the scribe in question next to Jim, both bent over the railing, pulling up buckets of seawater, and with a pang of guilt Stede suddenly realized that he was the only one on the ship not participating in sail-wetting detail.
"Well, I guess he can document this innovation for posterity later," he mumbled, stripping off his coat. "In the meantime, I think I'll better go help with those buckets."
The helmsman and his faithful feathered companion watched Stede scramble down the stairs. Olivia let out a series of squawks and Buttons nodded gravely. "Aye, I ken it's basic sailin' knowledge, and you ken it's basic sailin' knowledge, but he doesnae." He sighed as he watched their captain fumble to tie a rope to a bucket. "Let's just hope he doesnae manage to chuck himself overboard."
The British were gaining on them.
Ed was standing at the stern of the Revenge, scowling into the wind at where the Navy vessel was looming larger and larger on the horizon behind them. She would catch up; it was simple physics.
The frigate was displaying an impressive amount of canvas, her masts rigged with at least a quarter more sails than the Revenge was flying. Granted, Stede's Brazilian cherrywood masts could hold the strain of their three full rigs easily. All the spread, tension and angle of the sails were set to their full efficiency, but even with all this Ed knew that, in this race, quantity would eventually beat quality.
Buttons was manning the helm with a steady hand, keeping the sails full, but the Navy's navigator was worth his salt, too, for the frigate was bearing down steadily, never once wavering from her course. Ed gripped the railing tightly, his mind in overdrive. Even if he kept the crew at the brutal task of constantly wetting the sails as they had been for the past hour, they still only had about another hour, two at the most, until they were overtaken.
He needed another plan.
Unfortunately, for their current predicament, he could only think of one other plan. Not a bloody optimal one, but the only thing he could think of right now that might have even a snowball's chance in hell of succeeding. Not that it had the first time they tried it some years ago, but beggars could definitely not be choosers right now.
Ed's jaw was beginning to hurt from being clenched so tightly; far from bloody optimal indeed, and the worst part about the plan was that, in order to carry it out, he was going to need one other person.
The brig on the Revenge was tiny and dim, the lantern hanging from the ceiling casting barely enough light to illuminate Izzy stretched out on the built-in bench.
"Come to have those words already, Edward?" Hands rasped from the shadows as Ed stepped into his field of vision from the other side of the cell door.
Ed locked eyes with Izzy, who rose slowly and stepped up to the bars. "Or do you need some pointers on how to best play catch with the Navy?" he drawled, smirking, "I mean, why else would you push this garbage scow so hard?"
Ed kept his expression impassive; Izzy was an Old Salt, of course he could gauge their speed even from this brig and come to the right conclusion. "I'm here to tell you that you're gonna pull your weight around here," he said.
"And why should I do that?"
Ed's hands shot out, lightning-fast, seized Izzy's vest and wrenched him forward, slamming him against the bars. The older pirate barely had the time to wrest his head sideways to avoid a broken nose. "Because you owe me for not letting them chuck you overboard," he snarled, "'cause the way I see it, you were about twenty seconds away from meeting your maker, dickfuck."
Izzy scoffed and Ed gave the vest another tug. "And yeah, we got the limeys on our tail and you're gonna help us shake them, because escaping the English will work in your favor, too. After all, you're harboring two fugitives of the British Naval Academy on Izzy's Revenge, Captain Hands." Ed pinned Izzy with a look that said Yeah, I heard all about that. "So if they catch us, best case scenario for you would be having to sign your own Act of Grace. More likely, though, it's gonna be your turn in front of a firing squad, right next to me and Stede. And I can't imagine that this is how you wanna go out, do you?"
Almost nose to nose they stared each other down, scowling, but Ed was merely biding his time. Izzy would fold, he always did.
Sure enough. "Fine," Izzy growled between clenched teeth after only a few moments. "Captain."
Ed's mouth curved into a shark-like smile. "Let's go piss in their wine, shall we?"
The Navy frigate was looming even closer than before. The crew had given up on wetting the sails, since it had turned out to be an exercise in futility; there were simply not enough of them to keep this backbreaking labor up much longer, and the ship was still catching up to them despite their best attempts.
Stede's palms were aching from handling bucket after bucket of seawater and he rubbed them absently. He was standing at the railing by the bottom of the quarterdeck stairs, head swiveling between looking back at their pursuer and forward to watch his ship all but fly through the water, the spray from the bow poking his face like tiny needles as the Revenge rose and dipped into yet another wave. She was going faster than she had ever gone before under his command, fast enough to make the wind sing – and yet it wasn't enough.
He looked aft once more. The English ship was close enough for Stede to almost make out her ornamental figurehead. Was it a man or a woman? And was that a helmet or…
"We're gonna be in range of their bow chasers real soon." Stede flinched at the sound of Ed's voice next to him. He turned to Ed and frowned to see Izzy standing just behind him. Both men were staring out across the waters at their pursuer with almost identical looks of calculation. Stede wasn't sure who Ed's remark was addressed to.
Izzy seemed to think it was him, though. "An hour, tops," he agreed. "You got a plan?"
"I always have a plan," Ed said into the wind, studied the frigate a moment longer, then asked Stede, "You got a spare anchor? How long is your main anchor line?"
Stede just stared at him blankly. "Never mind," Ed said. "I'll ask Buttons."
Stede had no idea what was going on in Ed's mind, but the baffled look that suddenly came over Izzy's face indicated that something must have clicked in the former first mate's head.
"Are you planning what I think you're planning?" he asked Ed with narrowed eyes.
"Dunno. Maybe."
"Didn't work out so well last time, if you remember."
"Last boat also wasn't half as sturdy as this one." Ed cut his eyes at Izzy. "Relax, Iz, it'll work out."
Izzy seemed anything but relaxed. "But what if it doesn't? What if this shit goes sideways?"
Ed looked perfectly indifferent when he pointed his chin towards the frigate. "Then our ride back to shore is right there."
"More like a ride straight to the gallows," Izzy spat.
Ed turned from the rail, spread his arms out wide and gave Izzy a crooked grin. "The allure of piracy, mate." And then he was gone, climbing the stairs to the helm, presumably to speak with Buttons.
The exchange between Ed and Izzy had done nothing to alleviate Stede's confusion. He took a step to follow Ed, but Izzy stopped him with a palm against his chest. "Just stay out of his way and don't bother him," he said. "He's thinking."
"But Ed…"
"That's not Ed right now." Izzy cast a look up at the helm. "That's Blackbeard planning a fuckery, so let him work."
What kind of fuckery? Stede wanted to ask, but Izzy had already turned to follow Ed, leaving him standing at the rail. Deprived of insight and inclusion, Stede gripped the rail, feeling like a mere passenger on his own ship while Ed was in control, but at least Ed had a plan, which was a lot more than he had, so yeah, maybe Izzy was right just for once; let Ed do his job.
So, with a weary sigh, Stede watched from the gunwale as Izzy displaced Buttons at the wheel while Ed waved over Ivan and Fang. Bits and pieces of Ed's orders carried across the deck.
"...prep the starboard cannons…..at least two volleys out of every gun….the anchor…."
A dual "Aye, Cap'n!" resounded from the two pirates as they trotted off.
Stede's eyes followed Ivan as he collected Pete, John, the Swede, Olu and Jim and disappeared with them through the door to the gun deck while Fang shot off towards the forecastle door.
Ed scampered down the stairs just to hoist himself up onto the gunwale railing to rally the remaining crew members around him.
Stede found himself rooted to the spot, mesmerized by the sight of Ed standing on the taffrail, perfectly balanced, one hand tangled in the rigging lines, white shirt and long hair whipping in the wind, utterly focused as he pointed this way and that, directing the crew and assigning chores. A captain through and through.
He cut a most redoubtable figure, and the sight suddenly made Stede's heart pound. He wanted to kiss him. Wanted to press their bodies together, taste those lips he'd only felt against his once before, run his hands through that gray mane and…
He was pulled - quite rudely - out of his thoughts by a huge splash off the port side, followed immediately by the high-pitched whine of the main anchor line as it unspooled out of the hawse hole. Stede blinked.
Wait a minute - the anchor just dropped?
The deck was a flurry of activity, crew members dashing about everywhere; Stede was trying his best to stay out of the way as he made his way towards Ed.
"Edward, the anchor…."
Ed hopped off the railing. "Yeah, all part of the plan. I could explain it to you, but that would take too much time."
"But…"
"Later. For now, better hold on to something," Ed said, and something in his face made Stede reach for the closest shroud fastened to the railing that ran up to the top of the mast. He tangled his hands into the heavy ropes, hung on and just waited, although for what he wasn't sure.
Ed was holding on to his own shroud, eyes darting between the anchor line, the ocean and the ever-closer frigate while up at the helm Izzy was entirely focused on Ed, clearly waiting for a signal while he continued to steer the ship.
Ivan reappeared in the doorway and a nod passed between him and Ed, but Stede had no time to dwell on the cryptic gesture, for suddenly the anchor caught, the line went taut, the ship lurched and movement all around him just seemed to explode.
The Revenge's bow tilted, careening to the left at such an alarming angle with the sudden almost-stop, that every single thing on deck not tied down was sliding clear across to the port side. Stede was pushed into the gunwale but managed to step out of the way of a large barrel crashing into the wooden planks next to him. His head whipped around, instinctively checking for his crew, but the few pirates who remained on deck - Lucius, Roach, Buttons, Frenchie and Ivan - were all clinging to ropes, stair-rails or belaying pins. No one was in danger of going overboard.
The Revenge was groaning, an almost human sound that, for some crazy reason, reminded Stede of the agonizing sounds Mary had made each time she had been in labor.
Several sharp cracks, the sound of splintering planks, could be heard above the cacophony of yelling voices, creaking wood and flapping sails and Stede's blood ran cold. What was that? Where had it come from?
Verbal communication was close to impossible over the din all around them, but as Stede looked around he quickly realized that Ed and his pirates were way ahead of him in that regard.
In an exhibition of perfect seamanship, Ed, Izzy and Ivan were working like a well-oiled machine as they traded hand signs amongst each other, each sailor knowing exactly what the other was trying to convey. Ed had eyes locked with Izzy, gesturing wildly with a raised arm that Hands seemed to know exactly how to interpret while he was fighting with the wheel, leaning his whole bodyweight into keeping it steady, wrestling for control and winning. He was yelling something into the wind, baring his teeth and Stede couldn't tell whether he was growling or laughing. Izzy's head swiveled around, hair wild, his eyes darting between the frigate and the Revenge's sails while alternating between sudden hard yanks of the entire wheel and delicate corrections a few spokes at the time.
Stede could feel the Revenge responding, leveling herself slightly as she turned her nose into the direction they were coming from, back towards the frigate. Izzy was holding fast onto the wheel, feet planted wide, mouth moving as if talking to the ship, and the ship seemed to listen.
All the while, Edward was directing the crew on the main deck in pulling the ropes connected to the masts' yardarms to keep the sails aligned with the wind. Buttons appeared next to Stede, struggling to hold on to one of the thick coils. Stede latched onto it and together they pulled, keeping the yardarm in position, although just barely.
He heard Ed yell "Go!" and twisted his head to see Ivan hoist his great axe and speed off towards the forecastle door.
"What's happening?"
"He's cuttin' her loose!" Buttons shouted, and a few moments later the ship gave a great lurch as the anchor rope was severed. The deck heaved upwards, along with Stede's stomach, the sails billowed as the ship rolled back onto an even keel, and then the Revenge shot straight ahead like a racehorse coming out of her box, back towards the Navy ship.
Directly at the Navy ship!
Leaving Buttons to tie off the rope, Stede staggered towards the starboard gunwale just as the bows of the ships drew even with each other. With his heart hammering in his chest and fear breathing ice down his neck, Stede gripped the rail, bracing himself for the inevitable, two hulls crashing into each other with the force of an earthquake, when he suddenly felt the Revenge pulling to port and sliding smoothly by the warship's bow with maybe a dozen feet to spare between them.
Stede cast a glance backwards to see Izzy leveling out the wheel, looking as tall as he had ever seen him as he guided the ship into a straight line, confident and completely in his element.
Stede had to admit that, while he would still never like the two-timing backstabber, Izzy Hands knew his craft.
The radius of the turn had propelled them so close to the frigate that Stede could make out the different expressions on the faces of the two dozen or so sailors looking back at them from the rail of their vessel; disbelief, shock, utter surprise. A few of them were scrambling to load rifles and pistols. Stede was pretty sure there'd be nothing to shoot at anymore by the time they had them primed.
There was a thump, and Ed was suddenly up on the starboard railing next to him, supported by nothing other than a one-handed grip on a jackstay cable, and how he kept his balance Stede would never be able to comprehend. Ed's head whipped around, seeking Fang, who was poised by the doorway of the forecastle. He pointed his fist towards the frigate, yelling "Let fly!" at the top of his lungs, and the pirate disappeared through the door to relay the order. Just a few seconds later, the ear-splitting booms of six cannons going off almost simultaneously shook the deck, their reverberations echoing in Stede's bones.
It was point-blank range; Stede watched in fascination as holes appeared in the hull of the frigate as if by magic, two at the waterline, the others further up. Splinters flew every which way, and through the billowing smoke, screams drifted towards him from the interior of the enemy ship. They mixed with Ed's voice yelling, "Second volley, go, go, GO!"
Gunports were beginning to open across from them, but even before any barrels could emerge, the second round of deck-rattling cannon fire from the Revenge resounded. This time the shots hit the hull and the gunwale, sending soldiers diving left and right from the rail, more cries echoing in the wake of the hits.
Ed hopped down from the railing with a satisfied grunt, drew a deep breath, let it out. "I love the smell of gunpowder in the morning," he said with a grin, and in the midst of smoke, screams and general pandemonium, Stede burst out laughing.
All of a sudden, through the cacophony of noises all around them, a voice drifted across the water. "Bonnet!"
Stede's head whipped around, searching, until he caught sight of a burly figure, wigged and in full uniform, standing on the frigate's quarterdeck, and even from across the distance Stede could see the white-knuckled grips the officer had on the railing as he glared down on them.
"It's Chauncey!" he cried, surprised.
Ed wasn't. "Fucker's more insistent than a cockroach, I gotta give him that."
From their position on the main deck, Stede waved up at Chauncey, while Ed gave the admiral his own one-fingered salute, both of them grinning from ear to ear. Badminton's mouth was moving, but any further words were lost to the wind. The furious expression on his face as they sailed past, however, would be a memory for Stede to treasure for a long time.
Ed felt pretty damn good as he watched the disabled frigate grow smaller in their wake. Best possible outcome for the worst possible plan.
He hadn't been sure it would work. Not at all, but he knew how to keep up a mask of self-confidence, feint expertise and unflappability even while he was staring at the anchor cable, silently screaming at it to latch onto something - a boulder, a wreck, a whale - anything!
He was pretty sure he had convinced everyone but Izzy, yet before he had the time to adequately bask in his success – not to mention Stede's adoration - Ivan came sauntering up along Ed's side.
"Thank fuck that worked this time, boss," he said, and although the remark was directed at Ed, it was Stede who regarded the swarthy pirate curiously.
"Why shouldn't it have worked?"
Ivan cast him a wry look. "'cause last time we done that, it tore out half the portside hull."
Stede blinked. "Oh."
"Yep, was a long swim to shore."
Ed glared at Ivan. Way to bring up old shit! And in front of Stede! He rolled his eyes. "But we fucking made it there, didn't we? So quit complaining, buzzkill." He gave his crew mate's shoulder a half-hearted shove. "Now fuck off downstairs and get me a damage report."
Ivan murmured something unintelligible under his breath and slunk off towards the forecastle. Ed glanced at Stede who was looking at him with raised eyebrows. He schooled his face into a nonchalant expression. "Jeez, you tear up one boat and you never hear the end of it…" He trailed off at Stede's pointed look. "What?"
"You could have mentioned something about your ill-fated first attempt at this."
Ed turned around, taking pains to look unperturbed as he leaned back against the railing and shrugged in the most casual way he could muster. "Nah, why worry you unnecessarily? Besides, you should've seen the tub we were sailing on back then." He made a face. "Apples and oranges, man."
"Yes, well," Stede said, mollified, petting the railing. "This beauty isall Brazilian cherry wood. Very resilient."
"I thought that was just the mast." Ed's eyebrows rose in surprise and Stede gave him a smug look.
"I splurged."
"Good man."
They were still grinning at each other when Ivan reappeared, Fang in tow. "All right. Good news is that all fourteen humans and one seagull on board are present and accounted for," he reported and jerked his thumb over his shoulder, where the rest of the crew were starting to appear on deck behind him. "Far as the damage is concerned -" he shrugged. "Cat hole is ripped out and the planks around it are pretty fucked up, we're taking on some water, but nothing the pumps can't handle. All in all, we're in good enough shape to limp along for a while."
Ed let out a relieved breath, and Stede seemed to be doing the same thing. Their crew, their families, were safe and unharmed. That was the most important thing. The damage to the ship could be repaired.
Fang grinned widely while he saluted Ed with his already lit pipe. "That was some crazy piece of sailing, boss, pulled it off nicely, tho."
At that, the other pirates broke out in cheers of assent as they came forward to gather around their captains, some clapping, others raising their fists in salute.
"Great fuckery, Cap'n!"
"Yeah!"
"All right!"
"Let's hear it for Captain Blackbeard!"
Another round of applause broke out and Ed tried to hide his smile as he waved them all off while trying to assume an expression of fond exasperation.
Stede turned to him, his smile so wide it all but split that handsome face in half. "Don't be modest, Ed, you just made this ship do a one-hundred-and-eighty-degree turn, which in and of itself should have been impossible, but you made it happen. And while you were at it, you cannonaded the living daylights out of a Royal Navy frigate, and…" he threw open his arms, indicating the Revenge and everyone around them. "…all without a serious injury on her or any one of us!"
The crew seemed to be of the same opinion, every one of them smiling and nodding. Ed looked around, secretly reveling in the men's jubilation, the looks on their faces which ran the gamut from awe to respect to sheer delight.
He inclined his head, did a little bow and was about to spew some bullshit along the lines of 'all in a day's work, nothing ventured nothing gained, blah blah blah,' when Stede stepped closer, eyes shining.
"You did amazing. You are amazing," Stede breathed and surged forward, and before Ed knew what was happening he found himself enveloped in two strong arms, Stede's lips upon his, hot and hungry, and Ed took pains to let out a manly grunt, for no legendary pirate captain should be caught squeaking in delight in front of his whole crew.
Ed also wouldn't have been worth his salt if he let this opportunity slip by. Only dimly aware of the renewed cheers all around him, he gripped the back of Stede's head, fingers sliding into his hair as he responded eagerly, tilting his head to a slightly different angle so he could deepen the kiss. A salty tang clung to Stede's lips and Ed's tongue darted out for a better taste. Stede made a noise that went right into Ed's bones and he tightened his hold around Stede's waist, pulling them closer together, the solid body feeling like it had always belonged in his arms.
Stede's lips, however, remained closed towards his probing, as if he didn't know that kissing could involve these particular body parts. Ed very much wanted to teach him otherwise, but the raucous hooting, clapping and wolf-whistling now going on all around them was getting a bit distracting.
Stede pulled back, and Ed took in his glassy eyes, his flushed cheeks, those luscious lips opening to stutter, "I…I'm…"
"Stede," he interrupted, "if you apologize now, I swear I'll throw you overboard." His grin turned smug. "Besides, kinda late for takebacks. We have witnesses."
Stede blinked and looked around with an abashed smile as they disentangled themselves. The crew took that as their cue to rush forward, and Stede and Ed found themselves surrounded by a dozen cheering pirates. They endured sly comments, congratulatory back slaps and hair ruffles - Stede's mostly - until Ed broke up the party by raising his arms, making shooing gestures all around.
"All right, all right, you swabs," he laughed. "Show's over for now, and there's still a leak in the damn boat. Let's go patch 'er up!"
The group disbanded, all but Lucius, who ambled over, looking gleeful. "I'm really glad to see that this –" he pointed between them, "- has finally happened. So overdue!"
Ed leveled a fond glare at Lucius. "All right, come on, then. Lots of patching up to do."
Lucius cocked his head. "Oh, I think I should definitely stay here and write up an eyewitness account of this excellent maneuver you just pulled off, captain."
The scribe turned to walk away, but Ed swiftly collared him. "Plenty of time for that later, ink-jerker," he said as he hauled him along towards the main deck hatch. "More important work to be done down below. Now show me the cargo hold."
"What can I do?" Stede called after them. "I want to help out, too."
"You might want to start cleaning up the captain's quarters. Pretty sure that there's not a single book left on your shelves," Ed called back, grinning at the appalled look on Stede's face.
Edward whistled in approval at the sight of all the materials and tools stacked in the hold. Stede might be a mediocre pirate, but he was definitely a meticulous bosun. Three spare masts were laid out before him, spare planks and spars of all lengths and widths were neatly stacked up on either side, lashed to the hull. Yards upon yards of spare sails took up most of the bow of the hold while the aft was lined with large sturdy chests that held every kind of tool imaginable. A sailmaker's kit and several barrels of pitch and tar rounded out the collection.
With all this at their disposal, they were definitely going to be back in business soon. If they made it to the place Edward had in mind.
And for that he – once again - needed to talk to Izzy. Squaring his shoulders, he headed back up to the main deck.
From behind the wheel Izzy greeted him with, "Well, you pulled it off this time," as Ed climbed the stairs to the helm.
"We pulled it off, man. Some damn good steering you did there, but it also helped to be sailing on a quality boat for once."
Izzy took the compliment with a nod of his head, but his quiet but derisive expression was a clear indication of his sentiments towards Ed's assessment of Stede's ship. Ed didn't let it bother him as he stood next to Hands, letting his eyes drift over the main deck.
"You gotta admit, Iz - the fancy man's fancy ship saved our hides today," he said, "Most other boats would have lost that tug of war with the ocean floor in a heartbeat. And his brigade of imbeciles turned out to be better sailors than expected."
"They're still shitty pirates," Izzy scoffed, voice tight, and if he caught the reference to their very first conversation about Stede Bonnet, he didn't let on about it.
"Yeah, well, you can't win them all." Ed shrugged, and they stood silently at the helm for a minute, watching said crew scuttle about below them until Izzy asked, "So where to now?"
"That's what I wanted to talk to you about." Ed looked up at the sails. "Can we make it to The Place?" There was no need to elaborate further; Izzy knew what Ed meant.
Izzy inclined his head, first in surprise, then in contemplation. Finally he said, "If you get this poncy monstrosity patched up well enough for now, then yeah, I think so."
"All right, then." Ed flipped open the lid of the Navigator's chest next to the wheel, rummaged around its contents for a moment, then pulled out a pile of well-used sheets of parchment. He slapped the maps against Izzy's chest. "Start charting."
Hands took the parchments, but his eyes narrowed. "There are closer ports in the area, Edward, so why go there?" But even while he was asking, recognition dawned in his eyes. "You're gonna clean it out, aren't you? Your…"
Ed was saved from replying by Stede appearance on the stairs at that very moment, carrying a tray with three glass tumblers. "There you both are!" he exclaimed brightly. "I brought celebratory beverages."
He handed one to Ed and Izzy respectively, then took his own. Ed hid behind a deep swallow.
Brandy. Hallelujah!
Izzy took his glass without even acknowledging Stede's existence. Stede didn't seem to mind.
"How's the cabin looking?" Ed asked.
"Oh, it's trashed. Will take me hours to clean up. But better trashed than at the bottom of the ocean" Stede shrugged nonchalantly. "And once the last of the broken glass is swept up and the shelves are rearranged, there'll be more space than ever for new and even cooler knickknacks."
"Yeah, but still… Sorry about all that. And about your anchor, too."
"We'll get another one in the next port," Stede declared and took another swallow of his drink. "Speaking of…where to for repairs? Pirate's Republic?"
Ed was quick to shake his head. "Nah, they'd rat us out to the English before we could even properly dock. We'll have to fix this tub ourselves."
Stede's expression turned thoughtful. "But where would be safe to do that?"
Ed cast his eyes at Izzy. "I have somewhere in mind."
Stede raised his eyebrows in silent inquiry and Ed elaborated. "There is this place Izzy and I found by accident about, oh, I dunno, eight or ten years ago? One of a bunch of islands scattered between St. Vincent and Grenada. We were running from the Spanish, and Izzy literally took the wrong turn." Ed grinned at Stede's chuckle and Izzy's wordless growl. "We ended up at this island with an inlet surrounded by high mountains, perfect for hiding. The Spanish sailed right past, never noticed us. And the best part was that, when Izzy tried to mark our position on the map, we found out that this place wasn't anywhere on our maps. It literally didn't exist."
"But if it's not on any map…." Stede turned to Izzy who was still busy ignoring him. "…then how would you know how to get there?"
Ed spoke in his stead. "He'll chart a course to the general area of the islands, then sail by sight once we get close. Shoreline features and all that."
"Splendid. When do you think we'll be arriving there, Mr. Hands?"
Izzy's mouth answered Stede's question with, "tomorrow morning," but his searing gaze never wavered from Ed.
An awkward silence ensued, during which Izzy kept staring, Ed looked everywhere but at him and Stede kept looking between them both, clearly trying to puzzle out what was happening here. He finally squared his shoulders and reached for his tray. "Well, then, I better get to cleaning up." Stede put their empty glasses on the tray, but before he could leave Ed grabbed the tray from him. "I'll give you a hand, mate."
He cast Izzy one more quick look on the way down the stairs, and his first mate's stare told him that he hadn't heard the last of this conversation.
Some hours later, Stede stepped out of his cabin and onto a sun-drenched main deck, clutching his latest idea behind his back. It had taken quite a while to clean up his quarters from Ed's little maneuver, but it was worth it, for it had yielded a forgotten little gem.
He was a little disappointed to see only Lucius, Roach, the Swede and Frenchie gathered in a little group around the capstan. Buttons was at the ship's wheel, in animated conversation with Olivia, and Jim was lounging by themselves on the helm's stairs. Stede took an educated guess that the rest of the men were scattered in the bowels of the ship, busy working the ship's pumps or checking over temporary patch-up jobs.
He would just have to make do with this little group, then. Oh well.
Jim looked up, caught Stede's eye and promptly glared at him in suspicion. "You've got that look on your face, so whatever it is you're planning, count me out."
Stede had several good arguments, but when he saw Jim's hand go to the hilt of the dagger in their belt he just blew out a huffy breath. "Fine, spoilsport."
He purposely turned his back to Jim and strode towards the capstan.
"Gather 'round, crew. I found something while I was setting my library back to rights and I thought I'd share it with all of you." Stede looked at everyone in turn to make sure he had their attention. "And since it's past time for another team-building exercise, I now have just the thing for us." He pulled his hand from behind his back, brandishing a book.
"Yoga!" he exclaimed with a broad, expectant smile, but all he got in return were blank stares.
Lucius cocked his head. "Isn't that some kind of food?"
"Not yogurt, Lucius. Yoga. It's an ancient relaxation technique invented in India hundreds of years ago. It's still very popular there, so it must be working." He waved for his little group to come closer, and the men gathered on either side of him to look over his shoulders at the foreign but beautifully illustrated symbols on the front cover of the book. "Bought this a few years ago from the first officer of an English trading ship which was sailing for the British East India Company. He thought it was the Kama Sutra when he acquired it, but then, when it turned out not to be, well…." Stede shrugged. "Suffice to say he wasn't interested in it anymore, but I like learning new things, so….here we are."
He opened the book with a flourish and started flipping pages. "We'll start with something very basic."
One of the many illustrations was that of a man standing on one leg with his hands up in the air, his other leg bent at an angle, the ball of his foot resting against his inner thigh. "Ah. This one is called Tree Pose. Looks easy enough."
"Doesn't seem very relaxing," Frenchie murmured, and the remark earned him a narrow-eyed look from Stede.
"Well, it's in the book, so it must be," he said. "Let's give it a try."
Stede lined his little group up next to each other, facing them, his face bright with excitement as he got in position. It wasn't easy, even with a calm ocean and a steady deck under him, but he managed to hold the pose for the longest five seconds of his life. Grinning triumphantly, he motioned for his crew to mirror his movements.
The first attempt was over before it could even get started. As soon as he lifted his leg, the Swede began windmilling his arms, smacking Frenchie on the side of his head who promptly lost his own balance and careened into Roach who grabbed onto Lucius on his way down onto the planks.
"Oh dear," Stede murmured as he surveyed the groaning pile of collapsed crew members by his feet.
"Right. Let's change to something a bit more stable." He consulted his book once more while the pirates pulled themselves up again. "Ah, here. The Downward-facing Dog."
"I'm not comfortable with these names," the Swede said under his breath as the four now decidedly-less-than-enthusiastic yoga novices lined back up in a row.
"Just humor him," Frenchie whispered back. "It'll be over quicker that way."
They watched warily as their captain put the open book down, took off his coat and pressed both palms onto the floor, rear up in the air and head down.
Lucius chuckled. "Now that looks pretty familiar. I know I can do that." He was the first to get down on his hands and with resigned sighs his three teammates bent to the task as well.
"Shit, my back!"
"Ouch!"
"I'm getting dizzy."
"I know it feels weird at first, guys, but just try to hold the position," Stede said, trying to keep the strain out of his voice. "It'll get better in a moment." He was beginning to feel a bit dizzy himself. He closed his eyes, but that only emphasized the slight swaying of the deck. By the time he opened them again, a pair of upside-down black boots had appeared, directly in his line of sight between his spread legs.
Startled, Stede hit the deck with a thump, but his face split into a smile when he saw who stood over him – and what he was wearing. "Ed! You've got your leathers back!"
Ed was peering down at him, then at the crew, with a thoroughly puzzled expression, but extended a gloved hand to help him up. "Yeah, mate. What do you think was in that provisions bag I had with me in the dinghy?"
"Right. Who needs food and water when you can rescue your favorite outfit instead?" They shared a quick grin before Ed pointed his chin at the contorted crew.
"So what's this? Punishment detail?"
Lucius took that moment to loudly exclaim, "All right, I'm done," and dropped to the floor, his crew mates immediately following suit. Roach fumbled for a post-workout cigarette, and Stede cast them all an exasperated look before he turned back to Ed.
"No, we are practicing relaxation through Yoga. We just haven't quite warmed up yet. You are more than welcome to join us, you know."
Ed was quick to shake his head. "Yeah, that's a No, mate. I'm not twisting around like you fools," he said, then pointed to his leather pants. "Especially not in these.
"Besides," Ed stepped closer towards Stede and leaned in, his voice like honey by Stede's ear, "there's only one reason why I'd be doing several different positions of various acrobatic levels, and once that time comes, it'll be just you and me with no clothes between us."
Stede's eyes went wide and Ed winked at him with a cheeky grin while he grabbed the closest line hanging from the yardarm and hauled himself up towards the rigging with the kind of graceful agility that Stede would have admired if he hadn't been thoroughly engaged in blushing from his neck up to his hairline.
A few feet away, Lucius turned to Roach. "Oh God, he's definitely propositioned him this time."
"What?" Stede blinked and sputtered, trying to get some air back into his lungs. "No! Ed, he was…just…"
"Please, Captain," Roach grinned around the cigarette clamped in the corner of his mouth. "You should see your face. Like an overripe tomato."
"I think he's overripe for something else," Lucius said in a stage whisper, and the ensuing snickers only made their captain huff with indignation.
"Ok, that's it!" Stede exclaimed, snatching his book and coat off the floor. "Yoga is over for today."
With one last glare at his perfidious crew he stalked off towards the quarterdeck door, taking pains to hold his still beet-red head up high. The pirates' spluttering of laughter followed him all the way to his cabin's door.
The sunset on the horizon was in its last rays of russet red when Ed ascended the stairs to the helm. Izzy Hands was behind the wheel, same as he had been for the past few hours, same as he would be for the rest of the night. The lanterns on the railings to his left and right were lit, illuminating a plate of freshly baked Queen cakes Roach had left on top of the Navigator's chest next to him, and Ed made a beeline for the treats. Was that marmalade glaze?
It was. Ed sat down on the chest lid, snatched one of the dainty cakes and devoured it in three bites. He was about to reach for another when Izzy snapped, "Hey, those need to last me through the night."
"But I'm hungry."
"So am I, and I'm sure your pal has some squirreled away in his quarters. Go eat those."
Stede. Ed looked at Izzy and sighed; no time like now to have this conversation. "We're not pals, Izzy."
Izzy chuckled mirthlessly. "Yeah, I know," he said, staring stubbornly ahead at the horizon. "Knew that even before he snogged you on deck earlier."
"You did, huh?"
"Knew it for sure the moment you decided to throw away your life for that twat and take the Act of Grace..." Izzy's scowl could have curdled milk, and Ed was on his feet before the end of the sentence, the familiar hot burst of anger surging through him as his hand went to the hilt of his dagger, blood boiling at Izzy's words, his insolence, his betrayal, everything….!
The look he skewered Izzy with must have been especially fierce, for the scowl on the older pirate's face instantly shifted to an expression of concern and the rest of his sentence ended up in a gargled exclamation, as if the words got stuck in Izzy's throat.
Ed knew that expression well, had seen it on Izzy's face countless times during their debates over the years, usually just before Izzy Hands would concede defeat and Blackbeard would win their argument yet again.
Not today. He didn't come here to fight, he came here to talk, to get some answers, to make a proposal. And for all that he needed to be calm, needed both of them to be calm.
So he took a step back, let go of the dagger and took a few deep breaths until he felt composed enough to ask the most important question first.
"Why did you sell Stede and me out, Izzy?"
Izzy shook his head. "Not you. You were never supposed to be involved. I just wanted Bonnet out of our hair, but then Jack fucked up his part of the plan, and that's where everything started going sideways…" He ran a weary hand over his hair. "I already tried to explain all this to you at the tribunal before you hit me."
"That wasn't an explanation, that was a fucked-up attempt to excuse killing Stede …" Ed growled, but Izzy rounded on him, eyes flashing.
"He needed to go!" he hissed, "You were the fiercest pirate in the Caribbean, but then we meet this fop and his band of baboons, you develop an unhealthy fixation with that weirdo, and all of a sudden you'd rather wear frilly shit and smell like lavender, and that's not Blackbeard. That's Edward. Edward was killing Blackbeard, and I couldn't let that happen."
"And you don't think I should have had a say in this? It's my life, Izzy." Fighting down another spark of anger, Ed pinched the bridge of his nose instead and fixed Izzy with a tired look. "Edward wasn't killing Blackbeard. Blackbeard was dead even before the beard went." The pain in Izzy's face at that statement made him look away. "I've been talking about needing a change since before we ever even set foot on this boat, remember that?"
"Yeah, but…"
"There's no 'but', Izzy. Truth is, I've been feeling like this for a long time, way before I even mentioned it to you. Tried to ignore it at first, but it was no use. Every ship we robbed, every battle we fought…I was just going through the motions, man, 'cause my heart just wasn't in it anymore."
He watched the darkening main deck until he heard Izzy sigh, and when he turned to him, he saw resignation had settled in the other man's expression. "I guess I've been sailing with you on borrowed time for a while now."
"Yeah, mate," was all Ed could say.
Izzy regarded him quietly for a while, then turned to look over the ocean. "Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet," he said through gritted teeth, but Ed noticed that it lacked real ferocity.
"Don't blame him. He just cranked something up that's been brewing inside me already. I didn't want to be Blackbeard anymore, but I didn't know how to be just Edward." Ed shrugged. "All Stede did was help with that transition. That's all."
Izzy scoffed. "Oh, I'll always blame him. Since there's nothing else I can do."
He stared silently at his hands wrapped around the steering wheel handles for a long moment. "I just don't get why you would want to give this up. Blackbeard commands respect, fear, loyalty." He cut his eyes at Ed. "You're a fucking legend."
"Yeah, but I wasn't happy. I mean….." Ed regarded his former second-in-command solemnly. "Are you happy, Iz?"
Izzy looked at him, brows drawn together in incomprehension. "It's not about being happy in our line of work, Edward. It's about the hunt, the loot, reputation, power…"
Ed jumped on the opening Izzy had just presented him with. "Then you do all that, Izzy. I'm done with all this shit, but you…. you can take over where I left off."
"What are you saying?" Izzy's eyes narrowed, a cross between puzzlement and suspicion.
Ed took a deep breath and slowly released it. This was it. "I'm saying…be Blackbeard."
They looked at each other, neither of them blinking, and the silence was creeping towards uncomfortable when Izzy finally muttered, "That's ridiculous."
"No, it's not," Ed countered. "It makes perfect sense. Listen – you are the one who knows Blackbeard better than anyone else. We've been doing this shit for so long. You know my methods, my tricks - hell, you helped make me into who I was. We created this fucking legend together." He looked up, watching a sudden breeze fill out the sails as he gathered his thoughts. Christ, he wasn't cut out for these kinds of talks.
"For me Blackbeard is in the past, but for you….this could be your future."
Izzy shook his head. "I could never be you."
"I'm not asking you to be me," Ed ran a hand through his hair, wishing his pipe were near. He needed a smoke. "I'm asking you to be Blackbeard. Blackbeard is a name, an idea. Those are the most important parts. Get a new ship, hire a new crew, just make sure none of 'em know you as Izzy Hands. Fang and Ivan will have your back, call you Blackbeard and treat you like the legendary son of a bitch you're supposed to be; and before you know it, the crew will believe it and you're good to go. You could be out hunting in these waters in no time."
Izzy was staring out at the endless ocean, but Ed noticed his first mate's hands tightening on the wheel handles. The silence stretched on again and this time Ed simply stood next to Izzy at the helm, watching the waves and giving the man some time to mentally digest the proposition and all its implications.
When he finally did speak, Izzy's voice was even hoarser than usual. "And you would be all right with this?"
"It was my idea, wasn't it?" Ed said. "You would be a good Blackbeard, mate. Fuck, you would be the best guy for the role." He clasped Izzy's shoulder. "Go terrorize the Caribbean and sink as many fucking Navy vessels as you can. I want to hear about the infamous Captain Blackbeard and his exploits all the way in China. Izzy…" Ed made sure to lock eyes with Izzy before he delivered his verbal coup de grâce. "Make me proud, man."
Izzy stared at him, and even in the weak light of the lanterns Ed could see a myriad of emotions flittering across his features. Ed waited; he had said what he wanted to say. The rest was up to Izzy.
After a few moments, Izzy cleared his throat. "I….I'll think about it," he said, his voice thick in a way Ed had never heard before.
Ed still had his hand on Izzy's shoulder. He gave his old comrade a friendly pat. "You do that, man."
Izzy nodded wordlessly. He looked genuinely sad, and suddenly Ed wanted nothing more than to be off this quarterdeck and out of Izzy's line of sight.
He left his pilot standing at the big wheel and descended the stairs without looking back, his limbs growing heavier with every step. He was physically and mentally exhausted. The day was now catching up with him big time and there was only one place he wanted to be right now.
The captain's quarters were silent and dark, only one candle sputtering in a sconce by the bed alcove. It was just enough light for Ed to make out the unmoving lump of Stede under the covers, and before he knew it he found himself next to the bed instead of his customary spot by the couch. Stede had fallen asleep while reading, book still propped on his chest with the pages down.
Ed was bone-weary. The very long day, their crazy escape and the talk with Izzy was all now finally taking its toll. He craved sleep, but as he looked at Stede slumbering peacefully, a feeling began to bubble in his chest, ineffable, quietly lodging itself into place. Stede looked like…home.
Ed cast a look at the couch, then the bed alcove, and suddenly the thought of sleeping on that couch no longer held any appeal.
As quietly as he could he took off his boots, jacket, gloves and weapons belt, then gingerly plucked the book off Stede's chest and placed it on top of his clothing pile on the floor. He blew out the candle before he carefully lowered himself onto the mattress, curled up as close to Stede as he dared and fell asleep with the ocean on his mind.
Beyond his closed eyelids, light was worming its way into Stede's consciousness. With an annoyed grunt, he reached up to adjust his sleep mask only to find…no sleep mask. Darn, too tired to put it on last night.
He was trying to remember where he could have put it when the sudden soft sound of expelled breath right next to him completely derailed his thought process. Stede's eyes flew open. He turned his head to find Ed stretched out beside him on the mattress, fully clothed atop the blanket, his body and face turned towards him. He was fast asleep, and Stede swallowed thickly, heart beginning to hammer inside his ribcage at the unexpected, but very welcome, close proximity. How and when had Ed ended up in his bed?
No matter; what mattered was that he was here now. Slowly and carefully, every movement aimed at not waking his slumbering co-captain, he turned onto his side, facing Ed.
In the few months they had been sailing together, Stede had never actually seen Ed sleep like this. True, he had seen him nap, in strange places and weird positions, but never this close or this deep.
Stede had hoped that Ed would join him in his quarters last night, since Ed had crashed on the couch quite a few times these past several months. He wanted to wait up for him, he really did, had even fetched a book to help keep himself up, but it was to no avail; the tumultuous events of the past twenty-four hours had felled him like a tree and he remembered nothing past page two. And so to find Ed here now, in his bed, mere inches away…Stede sent a quick Thank You to whichever deity gifted him this unobserved moment to feast his eyes on the man he had so firmly fallen for.
He watched the rise and fall of Ed's ribs under the purple shirt, traced every line in that handsome face with his eyes – for Ed truly was gorgeous, with or without the beard – noticed those long dark eyelashes twitch every now and then. Wondered what Ed was dreaming about.
His gaze dropped to Ed's full lips, slack in sleep now, still marveling at the fact that those lips had kissed him on the beach, that he had kissed those lips so impulsively on deck yesterday – in front of everyone, good God - and couldn't wait to kiss again. In private, this time. Maybe in this very cabin during a private dinner, or while sipping brandy in front of the crackling fireplace. Maybe in the crow's nest during a joint lookout session or even in this very bed after reading a bedtime story aloud, just for Ed.
Christ, he could lie here all day dreaming up different ways of kissing Edward Teach while watching him sleep. It was – nice. Very nice.
And then he got caught.
One moment Ed was asleep and the next second those bottomless brown eyes were open and looking straight at him and Stede couldn't help sucking in a startled breath, suddenly feeling like a voyeur. "Goodness, do you always wake up this…..abruptly?"
The corners of Ed's mouth curled upwards. "Survival instinct. Good morning."
"Good morning," Stede gave him a still-wobbly smile back, "and rest assured that I mean you no harm."
"Good. Then I guess I don't need to take my knife out from under the pillow."
Stede's eyes darted to the goose-feather cushion beneath Ed's head. "You have a…." but Ed was already chuckling.
"Relax, I'm just fucking with you, mate."
Ha! Two could play this game. "Well, I don't know if I can relax now. I mean…." Stede gave him a wry look. "Having to assume that there is a potentially armed man in my bed while I have nothing to defend myself with…" He put some hurt into his tone of voice. "That's psychological cruelty, at the very least."
Ed's mouth twitched like he was trying not to laugh. "Really?" he drawled. "I'm very sorry to cause you such mental pain." He looked anything but, and Stede was torn between chuckling and calling him out. He chose the latter.
"Not convincing at all, I'm afraid."
Ed's hand came up to stroke along the side of Stede's jaw. "Hm. What would convince you, then?" he asked, and the glint in his eyes told Stede that he already knew exactly what the answer would be.
He felt the need to elaborate nonetheless. "Show me that you have no sinister intentions upon me."
"Oh, I have intentions upon you," Ed murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Just not of the sinister kind." Ed's face was very close to his, his gaze fixed on Stede's, eyes deep and dark, and it was easy – very easy – to close the final few inches of distance between them. They both leaned into the kiss at the same time, and Stede's pulse hitched at the touch of Ed's lips against his. Their mouths seemed to meld together. Ed's hand went to the side of Stede's neck, caressing the skin there, and in response Stede put a hand on his arm, letting his fingers trace along the snake tattoo, across the tribal bands and back, just touching, touching.
Ed drew back just enough for Stede to catch one shaking breath before he leaned in again, licking at Stede's lips, similar to how he did on deck yesterday. Stede had been too startled to react then, but now he found that he wanted nothing more than to taste Ed back. His lips parted, inviting him in and Ed seemed only too happy to accept. His tongue darted into Stede's mouth, touching his own, and….oh!
Heat surged into Stede's groin. Nothing in any of the many books he'd ever read could have prepared him for this. He felt like he was being lit on fire; this was unlike anything he had ever felt before. Stede let out a gasp, and almost immediately the pressure against his lips slackened as Ed retreated to look at him, gauging his reaction with a tinge of worry in his eyes.
Not willing to let even a moment of doubt come between them, Stede pulled him back in to kiss him again and Ed shifted position, kicking the blanket that covered Stede down to the foot of the bed before sliding over him until he was half on top of him, his weight pressing Stede further into the pillows, and oh God, he was hard, they both were. The first contact of their pricks, although still covered by leather and cotton, was electrifying and drew moans from both men. Propped up on one elbow, Ed's dark gaze pierced him to the core, his lovely hair cascading down onto Stede, tickling the skin exposed by the wide-cut collar of his nightshirt.
Before Stede had any time to get used to this thoroughly unfamiliar situation, however, Ed leaned back in to resume their lip-lock, and was it just Stede's imagination or was it all of a sudden getting very warm between them?
Ed moved his hips, grinding down, and the temperature in the bed alcove all but surged as Stede reflexively pressed back, his hands now roaming over Ed's arms and chest, their kisses becoming more urgent as the heat between them increased and the friction built up…
Thunk Thunk
They both froze mid-kiss at the sudden sharp stomps of a heavy boot resounding from right above them.
Ed raised his eyes towards the ceiling. "Izzy," he murmured dejectedly. Stede frowned in confusion until his kiss-muddled brain reminded him that the helm did indeed happen to be just above his cabin. With Izzy at the wheel all night.
"What do you think he wants?" Stede whispered and immediately felt silly about it. Izzy couldn't hear them.
"Who knows? Let's just ignore him."
Life's response to that, however, was a renewed Thunk Thunk Thunk, followed by a loud and raspy, "Edward!"
Ed exhaled heavily and thumped his forehead onto Stede's chest. "Shit, I think I know what he wants," he mumbled against his sternum, then stretched his body across Stede's to push aside one of the window curtains.
Beyond the glass Stede could make out a narrow but hilly stretch of green extending from the periphery of his vision out into the water, lush vegetation climbing nearly all the way up the craggy hillsides. He craned his neck a bit and could see a nearly identical stretch of land coming into view on the opposite side, causing him to take an educated guess that he was looking at the back view of the rather narrow inlet of a bay. The bay belonging to Blackbeard's non-existing island hideaway.
Ed confirmed this hunch a moment later. "We're here," he said with a look on his face like he had been doused with ice water.
Shouts and heavy footfalls were now drifting towards them from the main deck; the crew was readying the ship for landfall. Suddenly, a crash resounded, followed immediately by several voices raised in argument, interspersed with a number of Izzy's most colorful expletives.
Stede had no idea what the source of the crash was, but apparently Ed did.
"Sounds like they're having a hard time getting the sails furled," he grumbled and let out a resigned sigh. They both knew what had to happen next; the crew needed a captain up there who knew what he was doing, and that wasn't going to be Stede.
Ed looked at Stede ruefully. "I was enjoying this."
"So was I. But duty calls, I guess."
"I'd much rather tend to this duty here." Ed kissed any response right off Stede's lips, and Stede relished Ed's kiss for a few more moments before he pulled back.
"Me too, but there'll be lots to do for you up on deck now." Stede gave Ed a wistful half-smile before he pushed gently at his shoulder. "Go, co-captain."
Reluctantly, Ed climbed off Stede's sprawled-out body. He swung his legs over the edge of the mattress, pulled on his boots, then leaned back in for one more languid kiss. "To be continued," he mumbled against Stede's lips. "Real fucking soon."
Stede watched as Ed walked stiffly towards the door, tucking at the front of his leather pants while cursing Izzy's name and mumbling something that sounded like cockblocker, which Stede assumed was just another pirate term he wasn't yet familiar with.
The door closed behind Ed and Stede let out a breath as he shifted in bed, the result of their make-out session still very evident, not to mention sensitive, beneath his nightshirt. Unlike Ed, however, he had the luxury of time and privacy to tend to his current state. It wouldn't take long; as a matter of fact, Stede knew it would be over embarrassingly quickly just by reliving the last few minutes with Ed in his head. He grabbed the pillow Ed had slept on – no knife underneath, very good – and laid his head upon it, breathing in the other man's scent while he cast another look out the window. The place looked beautiful and it would be good to get solid ground under his feet. But it could wait another five minutes.
TBC….