Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“She has so much of you in her.”

They met on the beach under the cover of night, or just as dawn was breaking. He liked the night meetings best, he thought; his children were sleepier during the mornings, and he missed out on moments like these.

“Ah! I’m hit! You’ve got me!” Ed took a dive into the sand that would have earned him a standing ovation at the Globe. Alma, never one to leave things to chance, immediately pounced upon him with her little wooden sword, holding it high above her head and telling him to die like the cur he was.

He glanced sideways at Mary. “I’m not quite sure where she inherited that, to be honest,” he said. “Must have been your side of the family.”

“She’s started watching the seas for you, you know. Lives to read your letters.” There was nothing but fondness in her voice, but a slight misting made her eyes glimmer in the dim light. “There are times when she comes home with seaweed and saltwater caked in her hair. And I’m not quite sure what to do with her anymore.”

The confession came shortly after Mary told him that the latest tutor had quit in a huff shortly before his visit; it had been years since Alma had been welcome at the little schoolhouse for the local gentry. Not since the centipede incident.

He stared down at his Alma, all wild hair and ferocious grins, a whip-thin sprout so perilously close to shooting up like a beanstalk.

“Would Louis mind terribly?” he asked. “I wouldn’t want him to think I’ve gone and left him behind.”

Again.

“Honestly… Louis also has quite a bit of you in him. But, in a much… different way.” She smiled. “He’d likely appreciate getting to sit and read without his sister dropping toads onto his lap when she’s bored.”

Stede paused.

No, it would be fine. There weren’t any toads at sea.

-

“No, that’s it! I’m quitting!”

“Frenchie!” Lucius had a firm grip on his ankle, with Black Pete on the other; Roach and Buttons had his wrists, and yet he still moved forward, one staggered step at a time, trudging towards the side of the ship, as if he planned to throw himself over the side rather than spend another second on board the Revenge.

Stede sighed, his hands on his hips, shaking his head. “You are being quite ridiculous about this, Frenchie,” he said. “I’m sorry to say it, but you are!”

”No! There’s only so much a man can take!” He glanced at Alma, who was giving him a completely inscrutable blank look. “Look, kid, it’s not personal. It’s not even about you, really! You’re a… little one! Your crystals haven’t grown enough to start attracting demons!”

(Wee John frowned. “Wait… Does he think the crystals are in their tits?”

Jim sighed, pinching the bridge of their nose. “No, they’re in the wombs,” they said. “Please, don’t ask more. Every time I think about it, I feel my brain dying.”)

“But, I will not! I! Will! Not!” His voice had risen several octaves to a near shriek, pointing an accusing figure at the dark lump in Alma’s arms. “I will not be caught dead aboard a ship with a cat on it!”

Mooze, a fat moggy with a belled ribbon around her thick neck, yawned.

“Muezza is a perfectly civilized creature, Frenchie,” Stede said, nearly pleading, his hands clasped together. “Why, in all her years, I’ve never so much as seen her extend a claw!”

“Probably ‘cause it’s so fat.” Ed looked at the cat, visibly unimpressed. “Look at it. It couldn’t kill a mouse. Not unless it rolled onto it.”

“She’s not a mouser,” Alma said archly, holding her more tightly to her chest. “She’s my best friend. She eats fish from my plate and she sleeps on a pillow next to my head."

“What? Jim? That beast has been stealing this poor girl’s breath her whole life, and you want me to just be normal about it? No, Jim, I will not be normal about this at all! I will not stay on this ship one second more!”

-

Frenchie grumbled as he dug through the pile of mending awaiting him, only to shriek and jump backwards as his hand touched something too soft to be cotton. The demon was buried in the shirts and trousers, and looked up at him owlishly with its witchy little eyes.

“I see you, demon,” he hissed through his teeth. “I see you.”

Mooze yawned, and returned to her nap.

Chapter Text

“Your mama never taught you how to cook?”

Alma nearly shook her head, but remembered herself before she did, earning a idle mumble of praise from Wee John. “No. I don’t think she knows,” she said. “She says there’s always servants to do that sort of thing.”

Roach raised a brow, and gestured around the galley with his knife, his other hand busily plucking the feathers from a fat bird. “Well, you don’t see any servants here now, do you?” he asked.

“No, Mr. Roach.”

“Exactly! So, if you kept on believing what your sainted mama told you, where would you be now, hm? You’d be a very hungry little girl!”

“Or she could just eat what you cook, like everybody else on the ship.” Alma wasn’t able to fidget much, but she could glance down and see the growing pile of dirty blonde locks on the floor around the counter she’d been placed on. The hand holding her head still was steady; the blade sliced through her hair with practiced surety. “It’s not like most of us can cook, either.”

”Wee John! I am teaching the little lady a very important life lesson!” He frown turned back into a grin as he met Alma’s eyes. “And then, I am going to teach her how to properly dress a chicken. After you two clean up the mess you’ve made in my nice little kitchen, of course.”

“I could’ve done this out on the deck, like I do everybody else,” Wee John said with an audible roll of his eyes. “You were the one that couldn’t wait ten minutes for your turn.”

Alma giggled. “Maybe I should start requiring calling cards for all my suitors,” she said, mimicking the prudish tones of one of her many past tutors. “It seems only fair.”

Roach rolled his eyes. “I think Jim’s got the right idea, calling you princesa,” he said, and the knife swiped out to the side as he bowed deeply before her. “This humble servant is honored to host the venerable Infanta Alma in his humble kitchen.”

“Said ‘humble’ twice.”

The knife embedded in the wood above her head at the same time Wee John’s razor clattered to the counter.

“There we are, poppet!” Wee John’s large hands dusted off her shoulders, then clapped heavily over them. “Now, my payment?”

She nodded, running a hand over her head as she jumped down from the counter. Everything felt so much… lighter, now. Like she had been wearing a winter coat her entire life, and could only now shrug it off her shoulders. “I’ll go find my father immediately.”

Wee John grinned and rushed from the kitchen; to find Lucius, she supposed. He’d been keeping her father distracted in exchange for front row seats to the resulting explosion.

Before she went off to join them, Alma grasped Roach’s wrist, looking up at him with her serious little eyes. “I’m very excited to learn from you, Mr. Roach,” she said. “Thank you.”

His mild mock annoyance melted quickly. “Any time, Infanta,” he said, mussing up her choppy strands with his meat-wet hand. “If you get your papa to scream loud enough for me to hear it, I’ll let you have the oysters!”

Chapter Text

“Buttons? May I have a word?”

Buttons and the Swede exchanged glances, but didn’t budge from the crate they had been sitting on. “Aye, Cap’n?”

“Yes, thank you. Well, you see, I’ve been paying rather close attention to the phases of the moon lately－”

“Always a good idea, sir!”

“Quite. And, well, since my daughter shall be staying with us for at least another two months, and, well, you see…”

They stared.

“And, I really don’t hope you take this wrongly, as it’s certainly not an insult, but, such a young girl, so gently reared, it would certainly be such a shock to her, if she were to, you know, if she were to－”

“Ah.” The Swede nodded knowingly. “The Captain doesn’t want you moon bathing while the young miss is aboard.”

Stede exhaled deeply, the tension immediately leaving his shoulders. “Yes, that. Thank you, Swede.”

Buttons seemed to consider the situation for a moment, then nodded brusquely. “Aye, Captain,” he said. “I’ll take care to keep from any nocturnal nudity while the wee bairn is aboard!”

”A pause on diurnal nudity as well would not go unappreciated,” he said, giving the Swede a meaningful glance.

The Swede shrugged. “Many of the problems of the English come from not seeing their grandmothers’ tits,” he said with great solemnity. Buttons nodded, and Stede looked as if he were ill. “But, I will also be taking care.”

“Ah. Well. Wonderful! Good chat, gents.”

They watched him leave, heads cocked to listen until the footsteps faded into nothingness.

“Coast’s clear, lassie.”

Alma’s head popped up from behind the crate. “Did I do well?” she asked, eyes wide.

The Swede grinned, ruffling her choppy mop of hair. “Quiet as a church mouse, young miss.”

She beamed at the praise, then grew serious again as Buttons lifted her back onto the crate. “Do you think the goddess really won’t mind if I stay in my shift?” she asked, the crescent of the moon large in her eyes. “I don’t mind it myself, but I think Father will be less cross if we get caught that way…”

“The goddess is always makin' exceptions for the bairns.” That seemed to assure her, so he turned her attention back to the sky. “Now, that one they’ll be callin’ Pleiades on your father’s maps, but any sailor worth his salt knows those’re the Seven Sisters, daughters of the mighty Atlas…”

Chapter Text

“... And, sometimes, you can be born a girl or a boy, and end up not bein’ much of either. Or, you’re a mix of both. Or, somethin’ else. Get it?”

Alma nodded. Perhaps listening to Olu gently explain concepts that she was pretty sure she already understood well enough was the price for getting to watch Jim show how to aim a knife so that it always hit true to where you aimed it. His voice was lovely, though. That must have been why he was always picked for substitute captain when her father and Ed were off-ship; he had just the right voice for telling the most wonderful stories, and she was quickly becoming convinced that was the main qualification to become a pirate captain.

“I think…” She shook her head. “No, I know. I’m a girl. Just a girl that wears trousers.” And, maybe, wanted to kiss other girls.

Jim grinned. “I’ll drink to that,” they said, taking a swig from the bottle of rum in their hand before handing it off to Olu.

Alma watched the hand-off. “Can I try a bit?” she asked, idly spinning the knife around. “Mother let me have a sip of wine at a gallery showing last summer.”

Jim let out a bark of laughter. “Not a chance. Wine is one thing, but this? Your papa would throw himself off the ship in grief if he thought his princesa perfecta was besmirching herself so.” They pulled up behind her, hoisting her arm into the proper position, smelling of burnt sugar and sea-salt sweat. “Now, pretend that spot on the wall is the cock of your worst enemy…”

Girls, and maybe people that weren’t either. Yes. That sounded right.

-

“Okay, but you have got to swear you’ll never tell your dad, yeah? Just a secret between you and Cousin Lucius and Uncle Pete.”

Alma nodded. Pete frowned.

“Hey,” he said, “why am I an uncle, but you’re a cousin?”

“’Cause I’ve got a youthful glow.” He pushed the bottle towards her. “Don’t drink too fast, now. Just a little taste, alright?”

She took a cautious swig, and then immediately spit it out.

Pete laughed, then laughed harder at her offended expression. “No, no, it’s just… Aw, kiddo, don’t get upset! Your Uncle Pete did the same thing my first time.”

“First time for a lot of things, apparently,” Lucius said mildly, picking up the bottle and helping himself to it.

“That stuff is disgusting.” She wiped her mouth off on her sleeve. “Why do you grownups drink it all the time? It’s like medicine and lamp oil, all mixed together. It burns.”

”Ah, love, lots of reasons. Adult… things. Adult feelings. Hopefully you’ve still got a few years before you know much about those.” Lucius threw his head back and nearly finished off the bottle. “A bit of burning in exchange for a break from that? Worth it.”

“How do you know what lamp oil tastes like…?”

Chapter Text

The demon wouldn’t leave him alone!

“It wants to kill me,” he said darkly one morning over breakfast, keeping one eye on his food and another on the little demon sitting at his side, looking at him like a pool of haunted mud. “It wants my soul. It wants my eyes.”

“Think she just wants some porridge, mate,” Lucius said. “C’mere, kitty-kitty… Have some nice little bacon, let the poor lamb alone for a minute…”

But, even bacon wasn’t enough to tempt it from his side for long. Not Pete’s feathers, or the Swede’s string, or Roach’s fish guts on its own little crystal bowl. No matter what distractions the others tried, the monster always ended up right back at Frenchie.

Jim consistently rolled his eyes when he complained. “Look. I grew up around cats, okay? They aren’t witches, or demons, but they are contrary little cabróns. And they always love the person that tries to avoid them the most. You acting like a little bitch around her makes her want you more. Haven’t you ever heard of playing hard to get?”

Olu looked concerned for a moment. “The cat doesn’t want to… y’know. Does she?”

Jim gave him a dark look.

“What?”

”He’s pissing himself over the fucking cat enough, and now you want to give her sexual motivations?”

”You were the one talkin’ like she’s some crazy tart that won’t take no for an answer!”

“Olu, what the fuck?”

Not that he needed more reasons to hate the thing.

He was sitting on the deck one afternoon, tuning his lute. The creature was sprawled a few inches or so away from him, turned halfway on its side so that the fluffy, milky white expanse of its belly was revealed. It let out a demonic roar, which the uninitiated would have interpreted as a mere “mrow.” But, he knew better. He’d always known better.

“I know your game, demon,” he said. “I’ve met your kind before. You’re gonna sit like that, showing your tummy… Waiting for the moment my will breaks, and I reach out to touch that softness… Then, you’ll strike! Little knives, waiting to kill!”

“Actually, Mooze just really loves having her tummy rubbed.”

He paused, and, for a moment, his fear-addled mind struggled to remember when the ship had picked up a cabin boy. But, it was no boy, for all the rough woolen trousers and spiky leavings of a Wee John haircut. Alma Bonnet. The cause of all his miseries. The witchy owner of this demonic familiar.

“She’s a bit like a dog, that way.” She crouched down, and reached a soft, pale hand out to the rounded expanse of the beast’s belly. Fear gripped his heart, and he reached out; even a witch, even someone that had traded her soul to the Devil for the power to ruin men, didn’t deserve…

The monster… let out a noise he’d never heard before. It sounded like thunder, a slow and steady rumbling that grew as it rolled more fully onto its back, revealing more floof for the petting.

“What… What’s it doing?”

”Huh?” She frowned, then her eyes widened. “Oh! Have you never heard a cat purr before? It’s lovely to listen to, isn’t it? They do that when they’re very happy. I’m surprised you haven’t heard it before; she purrs all the time around you.”

“It… She… She does?”

”Yeah! She’s absolutely mad about you. Haven’t you noticed? She’d probably wander off and sleep out on deck with you if Papa didn’t make me close the door at night.”

He stared down at the abomination.

“... You can pet her, if you’d like. She really does love it. Promise.”

His hand shook like a sail in a hurricane as it drew closer to its doom. Small fingers clasped over his wrist, and he glanced up to see a look of such utter gentleness that he was, for the first time, convinced that this child was truly the child of Stede Bonnet, and not some wild jungle beast her mother had lay with. The grip steadied him until he felt his palm touch something warm, and soft, and… vibrating, steadily. The padding of a heartbeat. The gurgle of bacon digesting. Alive, real.

He let out a shaky breath, and she simply nodded, patting his hand. Getting to pet a cat’s tummy was as close to a metaphysical experience as she had ever seen; she was more than willing to give him the time to process such a momentous occasion.

Chapter Text

“Papa?”

It still took him a moment, to respond to it. He wasn’t sure when the change had happened, and he had transitioned from “Father” to “Papa,” but he savored every second of it. He lowered his book onto his lap, pushed his spectacles farther up his nose, and smiled at her. She made an odd sight, in her boyish cut and her prim little nightdress, but it heartened him to see her wear it; he knew she did it solely to please him, and that she would otherwise keep to her habit of copying the crew like an imprinted duckling and wear her shirt and trousers to bed.

“Yes, my dear? Are you having trouble sleeping?”

She nodded. “Would you tell me a story?”

He paused… Then, he patted the space next to him on the bed. She clambered up immediately, forming herself into the space by his side; if she noticed that the space seemed unnaturally warm, she didn’t say anything. “Well, I suspect you wouldn’t be very entertained by this book,” he said, putting the scientific treatise down. “So, I’ll tell you a story on my own. Any requests?”

”I want a pirate story. A real one!”

He chuckled. “Pirates? Really?” He ran his hand over her hair, and she wrapped her arms around his middle. “I would have guessed you’d be sick of those, by now.”

”Never. They’ll always be my favorites. Especially when they’re about you.”

A door banged open. “Oi, Stede, you’re really runnin’ low on that chamomile shit－” Ed stopped short; he was, thankfully, wearing the long silk trousers they’d bought in Kolachi a few years back, and though they slung low on his hips and left his chest bare, it was enough to spare his daughter’s modesty, if not her ears. “Oh, shit. Sorry. Little miss,” he said, tipping his head to her.

“Papa’s going to tell me a story,” she said. “A pirate story.”

”Really? Well, shit! Count me the fuck in!”

Before Stede could get out a single word in edgewise, Ed had joined them on the bed, cuddling up to him on the opposite side. He looked down at them, at their glittering, clever eyes, at the twin smiles of eager anticipation… And, he liked to think that, if the world had been a different one, and it had been him and Ed in the shadow of that lighthouse, the children their union would have produced would have been very much like his Alma and Louis.

Overcome by an upswell of emotion, he placed a kiss on each of their foreheads, and settled back on the pillows as he racked his mind for a tale to please them both. “Now, let’s see… I don’t believe I’ve told the tale of the bold pirate Lucius and his courtship of the prince of the merfolk yet, have I? Now, it was many years ago, and…”

Chapter Text

“Can I try?”

Ed quirked a brow, looking up at whoever it was that was blocking his sun. Alma had, at some point during the day, taken off the wide-brimmed hat her father had forced onto her head, and her nose was reddened and freckled. The scrape across her chin she’d earned racing Jim down the shoreline had stopped bleeding hours ago, but he already could tell it’d make a fine little scar. Newest addition to a growing collection he knew she was frightfully proud of. And he knew that frightened Stede to no end.

He took a deep inhale from his pipe. “Not a chance.”

“Why?”

“’Cause your daddy would kill me, is why.”

She crossed her arms. “And the great, fearsome Blackbeard is afraid of my father?”

He paused. “Yeah, kinda.”

She paused. “Good.”

He gave a quick pat to the sand next to him, and she joined him under the palm tree. “What’s on your mind, hellcat?”

Her bare toes flexed in the sand. She put her head on her knees. “We’re close to Barbados,” she said.

“I didn’t know your papa let you look at the maps.”

”He doesn’t. Mr. Buttons taught me how to reckon where we are, based on the stars.”

He whistled low.

“He’s taking me back home.” Her voice sounded soft, small. He didn’t like it. “I don’t want to go home yet.”

“Gotta go eventually, don’t you? Bet you miss your mum, and your little brother. And I bet they miss you just as much.”

”I suppose…”

“And we’re only stayin’ in these parts for you, y’know.” Her expression didn’t change; he figured he wasn’t telling her anything the rest of the crew hadn’t told her already. “Your folks agreed to not let you go too far from home. Once we’re out on the open seas, back on our way to Asia… You’ve been livin’ in a little nautical nursery, young miss. You might not be up to the real thing.”

“I won’t know unless I try! And I want to, so terribly…” She looked up at him, desperation creasing her eyes. “Mister Teach…”

“God, don’t you ever call me that again.” He had left Mr. Teach dead on the docks, and didn’t care to hear about him again. Her frown worried him, so he threw an arm over her shoulder and gave her an aggressive sort of half-hug until she laughed. “Besides, we’re mates, aren’t we? Call me Ed!”

“Okay… Ed.” There was an odd sort of glitter in her eyes, a determination so familiar it made his heart skip. “I know I can make Papa understand, if you help me. It’s just… I’m like him, aren’t I? I know I won’t ever be happy on land. If he puts me back there, I’ll… I’ll run away. Just like he did. I know I will. I’ll stow away and won’t stop until I find you all again.”

It would be hilarious, he thought. Might kill Stede with anxiety, though. He should probably try to avoid that.

“The way I see it, he’d be a terrible hypocrite if he told me to go back home when I didn’t want to. If he tries to say no, I thought I might cry a bit, and tell him that at least I’m not planning on leaving Mother in the dead of night.”

”Oh, that’s a good one! Yeah, you can get whatever you want out of him with some guilt. Lucius? He’s been shirkin’ chores for years on him nearly drownin’. And, to be honest, that wasn’t even Stede’s fault! Still works, though.” He nodded. “Yeah, I’ll be in your corner. Back you up. Your dad could probably say no to one of us, but he won’t stand a chance if it’s both.”

She looked up at him, and extended her pinky to him with great solemnity. He linked his with hers, and they shook on it. Stede wouldn’t know what hit him.

-

Jim huffed, wiping their face off on their sleeve. They fucking hated picking the short straw and having to go collect the lazy bastards that hadn’t responded to Buttons’ last three calls for everybody to get back aboard. Even if kicking sand in Wee John’s face until he sputtered and groaned and cursed them out in the worst Spanish they’ve ever heard was pretty fun… So, there were benefits.

But, there were also downsides. Like how Ed hadn’t come back yet, and neither had the little princess. So, unless they wanted to watch Stede lose whatever was left of his mind...

Luckily for everyone involved, neither of them ended up being dead in a ditch somewhere, as Stede had actively been worrying about when he had sent them off on this excursion. They were even together, in fact, both sitting under a palm tree they swore they’d seen Ed under hours ago… Fast asleep, though, the both of them. Ed’s pipe still lit in the sand near his hip, his arms wrapped protectively against the smaller form curled up against his side, small fingers curled tightly into the leather like it was a favorite blanket.

They swallowed hard against the lump in their throat. And if Ed noticed the sheen of unshed tears in their eyes when they gently shook him awake, and how a few slipped free when, without a second thought, he lifted the sleeping girl into his arms to carry back to the ship… Well, he clearly valued his life well enough, now.