Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It’s been two long, long weeks. Two weeks of sitting in a huge bare room, nothing left but a bed and a previously smooth, beautiful table, now pockmarked with knife gouges. Two weeks of throwing the crew at any ship they come across, fighting with vicious, brutal efficiency. Two weeks of drowning in rum and gin and anything he can get his hands on. Two weeks of wondering how long he has to keep doing this before it all just ends.

Two weeks before he gets an answer to that question. 

They’re sailing away from their latest conquest, a moderately-sized merchant vessel carrying not much of anything worthwhile for them: a bunch of shitty cookware, some glass, some paper. A waste of time, really, but it had broken up the monotony for a bit. He’s staring at the burning ship as they leave when Izzy approaches, keeping a carefully respectful distance.

“I’ve had some news, sir,” he says. Blackbeard slowly turns to face him, staring at him blankly. Izzy clears his throat uncomfortably. “Ship had just come from Barbados. Near Bridgetown.” He pauses, waiting for a reaction of some kind. When he doesn’t get one, he continues, “It’s been quite the talk of the town, apparently. Some rich ponce everyone thought was dead just appears out of nowhere, bout three weeks ago. Telling stories about being a pirate. Sailing with Blackbeard. Not four days later, he’s dead again.”

Two weeks ago, Ed would have crumpled into a devastated heap at that news. Ed would have burst into tears right there on deck, not caring who saw. He would have crawled back down to his quarters and wrapped himself in all of Stede’s things, surrounded himself with his smell. Now, Blackbeard keeps his face blank. “You’re telling me he’s dead,” he says flatly.

“Yes, Blackbeard,” he says with a sharp nod. “Very dead.”

“How?” he demands.

Izzy’s mouth twitches in a way that tells Blackbeard that he’s pretty happy about it. “Mauled by a jungle cat, ran over by a carriage, and crushed by a falling piano.”

Ed sucks in a breath at that, at the thought of … of Stede’s body. Bloody and… Blackbeard turns away. “Get us out of here,” he orders.

“Where?” Izzy asks as Blackbeard begins stomping away. 

“Anywhere.” He heads to his cabin. “Doesn’t matter anymore,” he mutters.

-

The auxiliary wardrobe is a stark contrast to the emptiness of the main cabin. It still contains the large pile of blankets and cushions Ed had dumped in here two weeks ago, after he thought he was doing better, and before he realized he would never be better. All of the clothes that had been hanging in here before the purge are still here, as well as a few of Stede’s outfits that he’d squirreled away. Some books, too, and some of his knick-knacks. The small model of the Revenge sits prominently displayed on a shelf he’d cleared of its shoes. 

When he crosses the threshold into the closet, shutting the hidden door behind him, Blackbeard shucks off of him like a corn husk, and Ed drops to the ground, into the pile of blankets he’s made into a sort of cocoon. It takes up most of the floor in the closet, which is pretty unnecessary considering that Ed generally just curls up into a tiny ball in it, not taking up a lot of space at all. 

He’s already crying. He’s stopped being surprised by it anymore when it happens, even though he feels like he should have run out of tears long ago. He tries to keep quiet, though, because sometimes Izzy follows him down here, trying to figure out where Ed goes when he disappears for hours on end, and he really doesn’t want Izzy to find him here. He doesn’t want Izzy to take away the things he saved, to take away his last bit of comfort. The last bits of Stede he has. Ever will have again.

He chokes slightly at the thought. So this is it, then. What the rest of his life will be like. Just a long stretch of bleak, hopeless void, nothing to look forward to until death. Ed hadn’t realized until now that he thought - hoped, really - one day Stede would eventually…

Doesn’t do to think of that now. 

He grasps for one of the bottles he knows is nearby, his fingers eventually curling around the neck of one. He uncorks it with his teeth and doesn’t even check to see what it is, just holds it to his lips and takes a long drink. It hits his throat with a sharp burn and he stops, coughing against it, his sinuses burning as well. Fucking whiskey. He takes another swig anyway, prepared for the burn this time.

“That time of the day already?” a familiar - annoyingly familiar, now - voice asks.

Right on time.

Ed sighs and closes his eyes. “Fuck off, ghost,” he says weakly. 

“If you didn’t want a ghost, then you shouldn’t have killed me,” Lucius’ ghost says, but there’s no malice in it. Not anymore. There hasn’t been for about a week now. 

He takes another drink and opens his eyes. As usual, ghostboy isn’t anywhere in sight. “The fuck do you want to hang around here for anyway?” Ed grumbles.

The voice sounds like it’s coming from somewhere above him today. “Don’t exactly have much choice, do I? I don’t know what the ghost rules are, but I know I’m stuck here.”

“Well, go be stuck somewhere else on this fucking ship then. I want to be alone.” He curls up even tighter, hugging his knees to his chest. He drinks some more, but with the new angle, some of it dribbles out of his mouth onto the blankets. This, for some reason, sends a wave of despair rolling over him, and he starts sobbing in earnest now, real, wracking sobs. Sobs like before, when he first got back to the ship, and after, that first night he spent in the desolate cabin.

“Fuck,” Lucius says, sounding alarmed. “Something happened, didn’t it? What happened?” Ed unleashes a string of garbled and muffled words that, honestly, even he doesn’t know what they’re supposed to mean. “Sorry?”

Ed sucks in a deep breath. “He’s dead,” he moans. He doesn’t hear anything after that, not for several minutes. There’s only the sound of his gasps and sniffles, and he’s afraid Lucius might actually have gone. “No,” he says, suddenly sitting up. “Don’t leave me,” he says weakly. “Please.”

There’s another moment of silence and then finally Lucius says, “I … I’m here.” His voice sounds strangely thick, like he’s crying too, but how could a ghost cry? “I’m just…”

“Are you crying?” Ed asks, looking up at the ceiling. 

There’s a loud sniffle before the answer comes. “Yeah, I am.”

“Didn’t know ghosts could cry.” Ed leans back against the closet wall and pulls the blankets up to his chin. He wipes his eyes and his hand comes away streaked with kohl and greasepaint. He forgets, sometimes, that the mask he wears isn’t only emotional, but physical too. He’s lost count of the number of times he’s walked past a mirror - the only mirror left in the cabin, actually - and started at the sight of the dark smears around his eyes and mouth. 

There’s another pause. “I—” A sigh. “Me neither.”

-

Days pass in a numb blur. He loses track of what he’s doing. One minute he’s up on deck, Blackbeard keeping a watchful eye on his nervous crew. The next he’s down in the jam room, stabbing his knife through a drum again and again. And then he’s back in his quarters, staring at the picture of that damn lighthouse that he kept to remind himself that it’s too dangerous to get close to anybody. Too likely that he’ll crack up on them, if he does. 

Izzy tries to get a heading out of him, informs him when there’s a ship to raid. Blackbeard just grunts, “Do whatever you want,” and starts climbing up the rigging to the crow’s nest. Izzy watches him uneasily. He sits up there for hours, after kicking out the guy they’d had on lookout. Blackbeard stares out across the wide expanse of the sea, unerringly finding south, looking toward Barbados. Somewhere out there lies the body of the only man he’s ever loved. The thought is incomprehensible. 

Blackbeard thought he’d wanted Stede dead. Thought that maybe, if they ever saw each other again, he would be the one to do it. Blackbeard wanted to pierce into his heart slowly, achingly slowly, so that Stede would know how badly he’d hurt Ed. To show Stede what he’d done. Who he’d turned Ed into. 

Now he … he’s all mixed up. He’s still pissed. He’s still very, very pissed. He’s still confused and hurt. He still doesn’t understand why Stede had just … changed his mind like that. They were … they were so close to everything Ed wanted, that he’d thought Stede wanted too, and then…

But he still … he misses Stede. It never crossed his mind that Stede would… Not before they’d seen each other again at least. 

Ed misses his face, the way it always seemed to shine, even when he wasn’t smiling. His smile, so genuine and so uninhibited towards Ed. The way the sun shone on his golden hair, and the way those waves felt threaded through his fingers. His laugh, the way it would startle out of him sometimes, like he wasn’t used to laughing and every time it was a surprise. His voice, so lilting and singsong, the way he could talk and talk about seemingly nothing for hours and Ed would just listen, transfixed by the sound. The softness of his lips, plush against his own chapped ones.

If he could see Stede one last time, if Stede were to show up right now, out of the blue, he would crash into him, wrap Stede up in his arms, pepper his face with kisses. Never let him go again. He doesn’t think he could even be mad, not in that moment. He’d be too happy to see him. 

-

Stede isn’t really surprised to see that his ship isn’t where he’d left it. It’s been almost a week, by then, since he left Ed, and it makes sense that Ed wouldn’t just sit there waiting for him. Especially after … leaving the way he did. He is very surprised to see several figures stranded on a small island, though, and horrified when he gets close enough to see that they’re his crew. Part of his crew, at least.

As he rows toward them, picking up his pace though his muscles are already screaming at him and his hands are at that point blistered so badly he’s wrapped them up to stop the bleeding, they begin to take notice of him, waving and yelling. When he gets close enough, they haul the rowboat in and Stede feels several pairs of hands helping him out as his legs wobble. As he takes in his crew, sunburnt, ragged, hungry, and thirsty - he does open up his rations to them, of course, and they descend upon them rabidly - he realizes that the missing crew members are Lucius, Frenchie, and Jim.

Everyone is talking over each other, many of them with their mouths full of bread and cheese and fruit, and Stede can’t catch a single word being said. Finally, with great effort, because his arms are basically wet noodles at that point, he raises his hands and claps them in a short pattern. He’d taught them it months ago, borrowing from his teachers at school when he was a boy, who used it to get the attention of a roomful of rowdy nine-year-old boys. As it has in the past, it works wonders then, everyone falling silent and repeating the pattern back to him.

“Thank you,” he says, and promptly slumps down to the ground in the sand, stretching his legs out. His crew follows suit, arranging themselves in a circle. “Now, could someone tell me what the hell is going on here?”

The story, as it’s told in stops and starts, every so often someone interjecting something someone else has missed and then picking it up from there, makes Stede’s heart ache. The thought of Ed sequestering himself away in their cabin for several days, the crew’s admission that they could often hear him crying, his reappearance wrapped up in one of Stede’s robes with a heartbreaking song that he’d wanted to share with the crew, reaching out for comfort… Stede has never felt so guilty about something he’s done before. Not ever. 

But then they tell him about Ed’s sudden, abrupt change, his order to toss all of Stede’s things overboard. Marooning part of Stede’s crew on a tiny island to die. Taking three of his crew with him, possibly against their will. He desperately hopes that Lucius, Frenchie, and Jim are okay, though he’s fairly certain they are. Each of them is resourceful in their own way, and Stede knows they can all take care of themselves if it comes down to it. 

He’s a whirl of emotions. Worry for his lost crew members, relief that he’d come upon the rest when he did. Sadness and despair and guilt over hurting Ed so badly. Longing to be with him, aching to feel his arms around him. And fucking pissed at how Ed had taken his hurt and anger out on Stede’s crew. 

The crew looks at him like he’s crazy when he tells them he wants to find Ed, to try to make things right. “I understand,” he says, “that you’ve all been through a great deal because of me and Ed. You’ve dealt with uncertainty about leadership on your own ship, English capture, your two captains being carted off, a mutiny, the broken return of one of your captains, and being stranded on a tiny island to die.” He grimaces. “Wow. When you list it all out like that, it sounds pretty bad, doesn’t it?” They all just stare at him. “Right. Well, my point is, I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to cut loose right now. I’ll take us all to the nearest shore and whoever wants to leave is free to do so. We would all understand. But if you want to stay, I’m going to go get the rest of my crew back, my ship back, and my … my Ed back.”

They all exchange glances and uncertain murmurs. The Swede in particular is looking quite uncomfortable, though after the attempted cannibalism, Stede really doesn’t blame him. Roach looks skeptical, as well, and Stede feels his heart sink. 

Several moments pass with no one wanting to be the first to answer. One by one, though, they turn to look at Oluwande, who’s been sitting quietly for most of the discussion. They fall silent as they wait for Olu to make his choice. Olu has often been a voice of reason, and someone that the crew has looked up to. It stands to reason that they would want to know what someone they have such respect for will choose to do.

Olu looks around, looking uncomfortable with everyone’s eyes on him. Finally he sighs, looking resigned, as he says, “I’m coming.” He turns his eyes to Stede. “I don’t give a fuck about Blackbeard. You can do whatever you want with him. But I do care about you. And Jim. I mean, mostly Jim, really. They’re stuck on that ship and I can’t just leave them.”

Stede nods. Stede has plenty of things to answer for, but now so does Ed. Stede won’t begrudge his crew their less-than-fond feelings of a man who … kidnapped? … three of them and left the rest to die. “That’s more than fair.”

Pete, not one to ever be outdone, immediately shouts, “Yeah, same here! All of that … what he said.” He gestures at Olu vaguely, ostensibly to summarize exactly what he said encompasses. “Except, you know, about Lucius.”

“And Frenchie,” Wee John adds. “I mean, he hasn’t got a boyfriend to single him out like with Jim and Lucius, but we all want him back, too.” The others all nod emphatically.

“So that means … you all will come?” Stede asks, just to be sure, because it seems too good of them to be willing to sail under him for a moment longer. 

“Aye, Cap’n, it seems ye have a full crew once again at hand,” Buttons proclaims, already comfortably settling back into his role as First Mate.

Oluwande says, “At least until we get the others back. Depending on how that goes … I can’t promise that I’ll stay after that.”

“Of course,” Stede says emphatically. “I would never force…” He feels tears brimming in his eyes.

“Oh, Captain, you don’t—”

“Too late,” Stede croaks and then he’s crying and smiling at them all. “I’m just so grateful,” he says, voice cracking. “I can’t do this on my own and you all…”

“Oh god,” Wee John says, his own voice shaking. “Now you’re getting me started.”

And before Stede knows what’s happened, he’s being enveloped in a group hug with six pirates, most of whom are crying too. The group dissolves into shouting and emotional and exhausted laughter, and finally they pull themselves together and separate.

“Okay.” Stede is still wiping his eyes. “First things first. We’re going to need a bigger boat.”

-

Stede stands on the deck of the Atonement, a tiny ship he and his crew had pilfered from the closest port on Martinique. It’s been over a week, with no sign of the Revenge. The crew had grumbled and rolled their eyes when Stede announced her new name, but had started the process of changing it anyway. They’d set off in the direction the crew had said the ship had gone in, but by the time Stede had come upon them and they’d managed to get their hands on a decent ship, several days had passed, and Ed could be anywhere by now. Hell, he could have just decided to go to China on his own, and Stede would have no idea. All they can do at the moment is keep their eyes peeled, keep their ears open for any word about Blackbeard, and fill the time in the meantime. 

He sighs. All this time is leaving him too much space to worry and doubt. His anxiety hasn’t been his friend at the best of times, but now, with the stakes so high, any wrong move could get himself or his crew killed. His stomach is in a constant tandem churn with his mind as he tries to figure out where to go, what to do, what he’s going to do when they catch up to Ed. 

His thoughts are interrupted by Buttons calling, “Cap’n.”

He looks up to see that Buttons has approached him while his mind’s been lost in thought. Karl the seagull is perched on his usual spot, right on Buttons’ head. Stede wonders, as he always does, how it can possibly be comfortable, but Buttons never seems bothered by it. “Yes, Mr. Buttons?”

“Karl’s had word from a mate o’ his, Cap’n. He’s spotted a ship ablaze a few miles north of us yesterday.” From his perch, Karl caws his affirmation.

Taking tips from a bunch of seagulls is by no means ideal, but it’s the only thing they’ve got right now to go on. And Karl’s never led them astray before. “You think it could be him?” Stede asks hopefully. 

“Aye, sir, could be.” Buttons lowers his voice slightly. “But ‘e said there was screams comin’ from inside, too.”

Stede closes his eyes, remembering the look of shame on Ed’s face when Calico Jack brought up the ship he’d lit on fire, back in his youth. If he’s reverted back to doing something like this … he’s really not sure what to expect when they finally catch up to him, but it certainly doesn’t bode well. “That does sound like his handiwork,” Stede admits regretfully. “Let’s set a course to intercept. Hopefully there’ll be some survivors. Maybe they’ll have some information for us.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

-

Most of the burning ship’s crew are long dead by the time they arrive, though they manage to find two men alive among the now smoldering vessel. It’s clear from their wounds, though, they aren’t long for this world. It’s a miracle that they’re still alive as it is. Stede meets them as they’re hauled over the rail of his new ship. They’re clearly in immense pain, burns all over their body, but they still look up at him with wide, fearful eyes. 

Stede feels a surge of confidence at that. He’s been dressing much more plainly, mostly due to a lack of any respectable clothing, but he’s noticed that he’s also starting to look a bit more rugged. His hair has grown out a bit, starting to curl a little wildly. He’s stopped shaving, as well, and a beard is starting to come in, with a hint of ginger in it. Apparently he’s starting to look more like the pirate he’s been trying to be. 

Although the trauma they’ve just experienced may be contributing a bit to their overall fear level.

“Gents,” he starts, standing over them where they’ve been propped up against the mainmast. “I’m hoping we can help each other out a bit here. I’m looking for information that you might have. In return for that information, we can make this all go quick for you.”

One of the men lets out a choked sob. “Please, sir,” he says. His voice is no more than a hoarse whisper. Now that Stede’s looking at him, he can’t be more than 20. “I don’t want to die, please.”

Stede frowns and nods sympathetically. “I know you don’t, lad. I’m afraid it’s going to happen all the same.” The boy lets out a weak cry that quickly dissolves into coughing. Stede gestures for Roach to give them some water, which he does with a skeptical look. “Just because they’re dying doesn’t mean they have to suffer more than necessary,” Stede says. 

Once they’ve had a bit to drink, Stede crouches in front of them. “Now. I won’t take up too much of your time here, if you cooperate.” One of the men, the one who hasn’t spoken, nods. He’s much older than the boy. Under the soot and sickly-red skin, he’s wrinkled and weathered from long days in the sun, clearly a man who’s been sailing for most of his life. “Who was it who attacked you?”

“Blackbeard,” he answers immediately, a visceral shudder that makes him groan in pain running through him. “The damned devil himself.”

“You saw him?” Stede asks sharply and the man shakes his head with a grimace. 

“No. Were his flag though.”

“But different,” the younger boy interjects. “Had a heart on it now.”

Stede stands up, taken aback. “A heart?”

“Yeah, that’s right,” the older man confirms. The reminder of it seems to stir something in him, and he struggles to sit up a bit more. “A heart in the corner, with red about it. Like the spear were stabbing it.”

Stede closes his eyes. Oh, Ed. Every new bit of information he gets just hurts so much to hear. His chest is a constant ache already, knowing the pain he caused, but it just keeps getting worse as he goes. “But you’re sure you didn’t see him?” Stede prompts and they both shake their heads. “He would have… You didn’t see anyone with long dark hair, a bit curly? Clean-shaven, or maybe the beginnings of a beard? Possibly all in leather?”

“They was all in leather,” the older man says. “But for one with more skill with a knife than ever I’ve seen.” Stede hears Oluwande suck in a breath from behind him. Jim’s all right then. As of yesterday, at least. And if they’re participating in raids, they’re at least not being held totally captive. “But no one like you’re describing.”

Stede nods. He’s not sure what to make of that. If Ed hasn’t been fighting during raids, hasn’t even been making an appearance, then what has he been doing? Is he okay? Is he sick or … or hurt? Stede can’t help picturing him in the cabin, all alone, lying in bed, grievously wounded, no one there to comfort him or hold him or take care of him. “Which direction did they go?”

“North.”

Stede sighs. “Right.” He clasps his hands behind him, putting on an air of it’s all business here. “Well, that was all I needed from you gents, so—”

“Please,” the older man says, his voice quiet. “Just make it quick.” Next to him, the boy is trembling. He looks like he’s trying to cry, but no tears come. Stede supposes he’s too dehydrated to produce any.

“I will,” Stede says gently. He looks behind them and gives a nod. Pete and Wee John, having been waiting on either side of the mast, come forward, their pistols already cocked. Swiftly, and in a disturbing tandem, they hold the guns up to the back of the men’s heads and pull the triggers.

There are two loud, nearly simultaneous cracks, and the poor, burnt buggers slump down. Stede very consciously does not jump at the sound. It’s a mercy, he reminds himself. And even if they weren’t already dying, it’s too risky to let anyone go and chance them talking to the wrong people. If this is what he has to do to get back to Ed, then this is what he’ll do.

They dispose of the bodies quickly, tipping them overboard unceremoniously. They hit with a splash and float there, next to the ship, the older man facedown towards the depths of the sea, the younger man faceup, the sun shining down on him. 

Stede stares down at the bodies as the crew readies the ship to sail. Not so long ago, he’d done the same thing, staring at a body in the water that he’d put there after the man had attacked him during a raid. He’d gotten a lucky hit in, and the man had looked at him with shock and confusion, like he couldn’t understand what was happening, why there was a sword sticking out of his right side. And then when Stede had yanked his sword out, the man had stumbled back, hitting the railing and tipping over backwards. Stede remembers the blankness he’d felt as he looked at the body, completely numb. 

And then Ed was there, yanking him back, and Stede had almost stabbed him, too, a reflex. But Ed had dodged him and then grabbed him, raking his eyes over Stede’s body, checking for injuries. The look of relief in his eyes when he didn’t find any, the way his hands cradled Stede’s face, the utter feeling of safety Stede felt, even amidst a raging - well, nearly over, at that point - battle, the rush of feeling returning as Ed squeezed him in a tight, bone-crushing hug… It fills him with such longing.

Someone approaches him then, and he half-expects it to be Ed, somehow there, like he was back then, about to pull him into his arms, maybe kiss him. But it’s only Oluwande, settling an uncertain hand on Stede’s shoulder. “How are you feeling?” he asks, sending a significant look down to the water.

“I’m fine,” Stede answers. Olu raises a skeptical brow. “Really, I am. I know I don’t relish in death like some men do. I don’t think I’ll ever like killing. But it’s a part of it, isn’t it? And I’ll do whatever I need to to get back to Ed.”

Olu watches him thoughtfully for a moment before nodding. “I know the feeling,” he says. 

“I’m glad to hear that it sounds like Jim’s okay. Now if we could just get some word about Lucius and Frenchie…”

Olu squeezes his shoulder. “Me too.” He drops his hand to his side and gives Stede an appraising look. “You know, you’ve really changed a lot, Captain. In a good way, I mean.”

Stede smiles, surprised. He’s been trying, he supposes, to be a better pirate and a better captain, despite still feeling completely at a loss as to what to do. Something he’s doing must be working though. “Thank you.”

Olu nods again. “Ship's ready to go, whenever you are, Cap.”

Stede breathes in deeply, turning away from the railing and the water and the bodies. “Mr. Buttons,” he calls. “Set a course north.”

Chapter Text

Ed hasn’t left the cabin for days. Every so often he hears the sound of fighting above as Izzy attacks some ship or other, but Ed doesn’t go up to see what happened when the sounds finally abate. Until he hears the sound of Izzy’s uneven feet stomping down the hall to try to get in again, for all he knows the entire ship could have been slaughtered, and still he’d sit down here in the dark. He’s not even really sure what he’s doing. He’s not really sad anymore, or even angry. He just feels numb. Nothing. Dead.

Every so often the ghost visits him. Checking in on him. Asking if he needs anything. He usually says no. All the same, the next time Ed wakes up for a piss from sleep he hadn’t realized he’d slipped into, there’s always food waiting for him on the scarred table. He’s not sure how a ghost can be getting him food, or if someone just happens to always bring him something after a visit - though he doesn't know how they would get in; the door’s locked and barred - but he doesn’t really care. He just methodically eats it, tasting nothing, drinks some water, and climbs back in bed for another long stretch of time. 

Mostly, he looks at the room. The barren walls and shelves are almost mocking, a stark reflection of how he’s feeling inside. He looks around, trying to fill it back up with things. Stede’s things, mostly, trying to recreate the room exactly as he remembers it. On that shelf near the fireplace was the little vase his daughter had made for him when she was younger, next to it a drawing his son had done, framed, because of course Stede had had his son’s drawing framed. In that little nook was a globe, gilded with gold and probably older than Ed, but still well looked after. On the wall right above him had been a framed botanical study of a purple flower with upturned petals, delicate-looking. Cyclamen, he thinks Stede had told him. 

When he gets tired of the room, he turns over and stares out the window. Because of the angle, he usually can’t see the actual sea unless he sits up, so he stares at the sky. He counts time by the passing of the clouds, the angle of the sun. He draws new constellations in the stars: an anchor, one of its arms broken off; a flock of blackbirds; a tiger standing over a cowering man. After the tiger, he forces himself to stop. He doesn’t want to think of it. What it might have been like to … like that.

He drags his eyes away from the window as he hears the now-distinct sound of Izzy’s footsteps approaching the door. There’s a brief pause. Ed can imagine Izzy steeling himself outside the door. Finally a knock. “Blackbeard,” Izzy calls. His voice is carefully blank. “We took another ship today. Decent haul. Could get us some good coin.” More silence as he waits for any kind of response. Ed turns over onto his side. “Might be some stuff you’d like, if you want to take a look. There’s some … some decorative stuff.” 

That almost makes Ed’s mouth twitch into a bitter smile. Before Stede came along, Izzy had always given him first dibs of any of their haul, but he’d give Ed such a look of scorn whenever he’d pick out something sort of pretty or nice to hide away in his cabin. Stuff without any purpose but to look good and dress up a space. Ed would just glower at him, like, Yeah, I’m taking this flowery jar; what are you gonna do about it? and Izzy would mostly just frown, but say nothing. After Stede, Izzy made no secret that he thought Ed’s liking for comfortable and pretty things was disgraceful. Railed at him to get back to his roots, to real piracy. And then once Stede was gone, Izzy was the one who pulled him away from the comfort of Stede’s things and the crew and shoved him back into the role of Blackbeard. A week ago, Ed thinks Izzy would have stabbed him if Ed so much as looked at any of that stuff. And now here he is trying to bait Ed out of the cabin with it. 

When the silence has stretched on for too long, Izzy knocks again. “Blackbeard? You in there?” Ed can almost feel the minute Izzy’s concern switches into panic. “Edw—Captain, are you—”

“I’m here,” Ed finally answers. He would be shocked at the lifelessness of his voice, if he still had the energy to feel shock. 

There’s a not-quite muffled sigh of relief, and then Izzy asks, “So do … do you want to come look? There’s, um … a couple of paintings you might like? Or—”

“No.” He pulls a blanket up to his chin. “Just do whatever.”

More silence. Ed doesn’t think he’s ever heard Izzy so fucking quiet before. Finally he says, “Yes, sir.” There’s a beat, and then his footsteps are retreating.

Ed sighs and turns onto his stomach, closing his eyes.

-

There’s a dagger in his hand. Blood. 

He doesn’t remember how it got there. 

Ed looks down. Fuck. Blood there too. His arm is cut. A line stretching across the middle of his forearm. More blood is running out, running down his arm to his hand. He looks around the room, but it’s empty. The same as it always is. Fucking … did he do it to himself? He hasn’t … he hasn’t done that since he was a kid.

A drop of blood drips onto the mattress. Blackbeard stares at it. Stares at his arm. Presses a finger against the cut. A wave of pain shoots through him and he sucks in a breath through his teeth. God, that fucking hurts . But, he realizes, it’s the first thing he’s actually felt in … four days?

Blackbeard ducks down, bending over his arm, knife in hand. To the left of the line, he presses the tip of the dagger to his skin. He balls his hand into a fist and grits his teeth, digging in until he feels it pierce, feels a hot, white pain. The release brings tears to his eyes. He pauses to wipe them away furiously. Blackbeard doesn’t fucking cry over a little cut.

He presses the point back down and keeps going this time, moving the dagger down diagonally to the left, then down in the opposite direction, and finally back to the left again. It’s messy, made even more so by the blood oozing out, but even to his unpracticed eye, it looks like a jagged S . He lets out a breath before continuing, carving a straight line perpendicular to the first cut. T . 

He keeps going, letter by letter. Blackbeard can’t read, can’t write. But he knows some letters. And he’s seen Stede’s name written enough that he can slash a decent approximation of it into his skin. He doesn’t know why. Why the fuck he’s carving Stede’s name onto his arm, deep enough that it will surely scar. He just knows that he has to. It’s a compulsion. Just like signing up on his first ship the day after his mum died. Just like stabbing Hornigold in his fucking horrible hand before taking off with one of his ships and just a handful of men. Just like going after the Gentleman Pirate before he even knew Stede was his wordkeeper. It’s a feeling. It’s necessary. 

The final E is the worst bit. It’s so close to his wrist, he has to be careful not to dig in too deep or risk hitting a vein. But he has to make it deep enough to stick. He grits his teeth and continues, his hand shaking by now. But he can’t stop. 

Finally, Blackbeard’s finished. He drops the knife off the side of the bed, letting it fall to the floor. Blood splatters around it in little droplets. He holds his arm up to the minimal light coming in through the window as the sun sets. His heart is racing like he just fought a fierce duel and barely survived. Stede’s name is there, in his skin now. In him . A part of him. Stede may be dead, but this is visceral . This is a clear reminder that he was here. That Stede made a mark on him, one he can’t take back. 

Blackbeard rubs his thumb over the letters, pushing in slightly to feel the sting. The blood smears on his fingers and he lifts his hand to his lips to suck it off. And then … he … he doesn’t get it , he just does it. He lifts his arm to his mouth and licks along Stede’s name. The strong taste of metal hits his tongue and Blackbeard keeps going, licking until it’s clean. 

He looks at it again in the light, at the stark white marks along his forearm. Blackbeard smiles. Actually cracks a smile for the first time in … he can’t even remember. 

But the blood keeps coming, and suddenly Ed is feeling lightheaded. “Oh, fuck,” he says. Blood is dripping down his arm in rivulets, onto the mattress, and shit . He grabs a blanket and presses it to the cuts, the pain not feeling so nice anymore. He swings his feet over the edge of the bed and hops down, barely remembering the knife in time to avoid it. His legs wobble and he remembers that he hasn’t eaten in probably a day. His ghost hasn’t come by to make food mysteriously appear, and he hadn’t been eating much before that either. 

He sways on his feet for a moment, trying to remember what he was doing. “Bandages,” he reminds himself. There should still be some in the bathroom. He was pissed when he ordered Stede’s stuff tossed, but he’s not stupid enough to throw out medical supplies. Just stupid enough to make himself need them, apparently. 

Ed takes a few steps to the bathroom, leaning against the wall, but his head is swimming. He slumps against the wall and then suddenly he’s on the ground, splayed out. He’s dropped the blanket and his arm is leaking blood onto the floor now, how is it still bleeding like that—

His vision is growing blurry. He really … he didn’t intend for this to happen. But … maybe it’s for the best. What good is this life without the one person who made it worth living? At least this way, maybe Ed will get to see Stede again in the afterlife. But … no, Stede’s probably in heaven. What kind of shit god would toss someone like Stede into hell? ‘Cause that’s definitely where Ed’s going. All the horrible things he’s done, killing his father, Lucius. Stede’s crew, probably, unless someone sailed by through some miracle. Burning ships with the entire crew still trapped within. Those are his deaths, even if he didn’t personally light them on fire. Every time he ordered one of his crew to kill somebody. Those are on him, too. 

Yeah, it’s hell for him. Probably’ll see his dad down there, too. Mum’ll be up in heaven though. Maybe she and Stede have met, have been watching him together. He doesn’t want to think about them seeing him like this, but the thought of them together is nice. Mum would’ve liked Stede, he thinks. 

Or maybe there is no heaven or hell, and they all just go to the same place. He’d never really believed in any of the religion stuff his mum did, so maybe … maybe he will get to see Stede again. Maybe…

“...ward? I know you’re still in there, you haven’t been—oh, fuck .”

Ed slips back into semi-consciousness as he hears a loud thump and then someone is stumbling to him. “Oh, fuck,” they say again, then, “oh, shit. That’s blood. That is…”

They drop to their knees and roughly grab his head, checking his eyes, and Ed must already be dead, because it’s Lucius kneeling down by him, and he’s a ghost. So if Ed’s seeing him, then…

“‘M I a ghost?” he mumbles.

Lucius jumps and lets out a small shriek. He lets go of his head, letting it loll back into place. “Fuck,” he says again. “You’re not a ghost. Not yet anyway,” he answers distractedly. He spots the discarded blanket and grabs it, shuddering at the blood already drying on it. He picks up Ed’s arm and sucks in a breath at the cut. At the name . “ Edward ,” he breathes, and there’s a lot in that one word, but Ed can’t figure it out right now because he’s still trying to understand how Lucius can be touching him if Ed’s not dead.

“‘F ‘m not a ghost,” he slurs, struggling to make his words coherent, “how th’fuck’re you touching me?”

Lucius holds the blanket up against the cuts, pressing hard. Hard enough that the pain actually wakes Ed up a little. “Fang!” Lucius shouts and immediately from right outside the cabin door, Fang answers, “Yeah, love?”

“We need help in here!” There’s immediately a rattle at the doorknob and Lucius calls, “You … you can’t get in. He’s got the door all barricaded.” 

“Then unbarricade it!”

Lucius tightens his grip on Ed’s arm even further and Ed groans in pain. “No, I … I can’t. He’s lost a lot of blood already.” There’s a muffled swear and Lucius continues, “I need you to get Frenchie and tell him to bring whatever medical stuff he can find, and sewing stuff. He … he might need stitches, I don’t know .” There’s a note of hysteria rising in Lucius. Ed’s a little more aware now, though he still doesn’t really know how Lucius is here touching him. He can recognize that Lucius is doing his damnedest to help Ed, but he can’t help if he’s freaking out. Something in Ed makes him reach out with his free hand, find Lucius’ ankle, and squeeze weakly. Lucius sucks in a few breaths before continuing, “There’s a passage in the ball room. Uh, Jim knows how to get in and how to get here, so you’ll need to find them too. But, like, now .”

“Okay, I’m going, I’m going. It’s going to be fine.” His footsteps start to retreat.

“And Fang!” Lucius calls and the footsteps pause. “Fucking … don’t let Izzy anywhere near this. Jim can help with that too.”

“Yeah, ‘course,” Fang answers, and then his footsteps are running again, fading away. 

“Okay. Okay, it’s gonna be fine,” Lucius is muttering to himself. “It’s gotta be fine.”

“Fang a ghost too?” Ed asks over Lucius’ whispered litany. His voice sounds a little more lucid, at least.

“Fucking … no ,” Lucius says. His leg jiggles anxiously against Ed’s fingers. “None of us are ghosts.” Ed tries to lift his head, then, to get a better look at Lucius, but Lucius presses it back down. “Just … don’t move.”

“But I killed you,” Ed argues.

“You tried.”

“But—”

Lucius sighs. “Here, can you turn over?” He tugs Ed’s arm a bit to indicate in which direction he should turn. 

He’s weak, and everything feels floaty, but he somehow manages to do it, with Lucius helping as best he can and then Ed's head’s in Lucius’ lap, looking up at his upside-down face. He looks pretty ragged. His cheeks are sunken in a little bit, and his hair is unkempt and starting to get overgrown. The boy’s even got a little beard coming in, too. “You look like shit,” Ed says.

Lucius scoffs. “ I look like shit?” He wiggles Ed’s arm a bit, where he’s holding it elevated up, and yeah, okay. He’s got a point. “Anyway, when you fucking pushed me overboard ,” he snaps, “you know you pushed me off the front of the ship? And the ship was moving? And I was, you know, screaming, because of the attempted murder?”

Ed grimaces. “Sure.”

“Yeah. Fang was on watch that night, and he heard me screaming as the ship was just crawling by and he dropped the ladder down and hauled me back up.”

“Oh.”

Lucius considers him for a moment. “You’re not going to go after Fang now, just because he—”

“No!” Ed says emphatically. “No, I’m just … I’m so relieved ,” he says and to his horror tears start pooling in his eyes. “I thought I killed you,” he sobs. 

Crying while you’re bleeding out is a weird feeling, Ed realizes. It’s like, part of him is all weightless and light and feeling feint. But then the crying is so physical , it kind of wars with the floaty feeling. Ultimately, it just starts to give him a headache, on top of it all.

“Hey, no crying,” Lucius says worriedly. “You can cry and beg for my forgiveness later, when you’re all healed up, but right now I really don’t think you should be losing more fluids.”

Ed nods and tries to stop, to draw his mind away from the relief sweeping over him. He wipes his eyes with his free hand and sniffles, but manages to hold off any more tears. 

They sit together for several minutes longer, Lucius every so often asking Ed a question to make sure he’s still awake. Ed doesn’t feel too close to passing out again now, but he still feels lightheaded, and his arm is somehow still fucking bleeding, though slowing down, according to Lucius. He really didn’t think he was going that deep.

Eventually there’s the same thump that Ed had heard when Lucius emerged from whatever other hidden passage Stede had built into the ship. Frenchie and Fang appear in his vision. They both stop short when they take in the scene, the blood. “Fuck, boss,” Fang gasps. He sits down at his side and opens up a satchel he’s got. “I’ve got some water here, and some food,” he says, holding it out. 

“Oh, perfect, babe,” Lucius says. “Thank you. You’re so smart.” Fang blushes brightly at the praise, but he holds the water to Ed’s lips and helps him drink. 

Frenchie, for his part, doesn’t say much of anything until he sees the wound, and then his eyes flick to Ed, the knife, and then back to Ed. “Quite the accident,” he says mildly.

Ed closes his eyes. It’s a bullshit excuse, but it’s an easy out for him if he wants it. He … he feels like he’s done with easy outs though. “Only accident was not realizing how deep I was going,” he says gruffly.

Frenchie glances at Lucius, who shrugs and inclines his head in a way that seems to indicate to Frenchie something like, I don’t know, but he seems sort of back to normal-ish? Frenchie grabs a bottle of alcohol he’d brought and warns, “This’ll sting,” before carefully pouring it over the cuts. It does, indeed, fucking sting , but it’s over quickly. Frenchie gets to work wiping the dried blood away so he can see what he’s doing. The letters are quickly clearly revealed and Ed panics for a moment before remembering that Lucius is the only one in the room who can read. Doesn’t stop Frenchie from asking, “What’s it say?”

Ed bites his lip. Giving up on easy outs is one thing, but this feels too personal. He doesn’t want everyone to know how fucked up his head is. How he methodically carved Stede’s name into his own skin. How he nearly died because of it. “I—”

“Nothing,” Lucius answers for him. “Just some letters and shapes.”

“C’mon, mate, I know that those are E s at least. Got two of them in my own name,” Frenchie says proudly. 

Ed shrugs, sucking in a breath. “Just liked the look of them, I guess,” he says shortly. 

Lucius, thankfully, changes the subject. “Izzy’s out of the way?” he asks. 

Fang grins. “Yeah. Jim challenged him to a friendly fight. Knives versus sword.”

Lucius snorts. “Friendly? Those two? Shit, neither of them will stop until someone loses a body part.”

To his, and everyone else’s, shock, Ed huffs out a short laugh. They all freeze, even Frenchie who has a needle piercing through Ed’s skin. The laugh quickly turns to tears again as Ed realizes that he can’t remember the last time he laughed. Not for real. Probably not since Stede left. 

Lucius recovers first, having already experienced his share of Ed’s emotional outbursts. “Hey, I said no crying, remember? Keep that water in you.” Ed nods, but he still feels them leaking out. “The last thing we need is you fucking kicking it because of dehydration, Captain.”

At the title, Ed loses it even more. No one should be calling him captain. He shouldn’t be one, not anymore. Maybe he never should have. He certainly doesn’t deserve to be called that now. Especially not from Lucius. “Can’t help it,” he says. He winces as Frenchie starts up on his arm again, pulling the thread through his skin. “I … I’m all kinds of fucked up.”

He’s been trying to deal with everything on his own since Izzy made it clear there was no room for any real emotions with him around. Being Blackbeard again helped for a little bit. Channeling his sadness into anger, giving in to the raw pain and lashing out at first was satisfying. But so quickly it grew exhausting, putting that much energy into it, and he couldn’t sustain it. And the sadness and hopelessness came back, only he had to keep it tamped down as hard as he could. Could only really let himself feel it when he was hidden away in the closet with the remainder of Stede’s things. 

And then the news that Stede was dead . It’s all too much. He can’t handle it all on his own. 

“I think … I think I need help,” he admits.

The three pairs of eyes that turn to him then are a combination of pitying and incredulous. “You think ?” Frenchie asks. He’s still bent over Ed’s arm, though, working as quickly and carefully as he can. 

“ Hey ,” Lucius remarks, shooting a significant look to Frenchie. “That’s a big thing to admit.” Since Frenchie had taken over first aid, freeing Lucius’ hands from their life-saving duties, he’s been gently carding his hands through Ed’s hair, not even showing any concern for how greasy it surely is. It’s such a Stede thing to do, and when Ed closes his eyes, he can almost pretend that it is Stede doing it. But then he opens them again and Lucius is looking down at him. And Stede’s still dead. But Lucius looks so sincere as he says, “We’ve only ever wanted to help you,” and it makes Ed cry even harder, but also feel like maybe, eventually, if he lets them, he might be okay.

-

They’re on the right track. Since the first burnt ship they’d found, they’ve come across two other raided vessels. The first was another burning ship, but one of its crew had managed to somehow get out and was hanging off of some debris in the water to keep afloat. He had confirmed that it was Blackbeard’s ship who had attacked them, though like the others he denied any sight of the man himself. The Revenge had continued on her way north after setting this one ablaze. 

It’s harder for Stede to justify killing this one. The man has no severe injuries, clearly could survive were he to be dropped off at a nearby port. He even begs to join the crew, if they’ll just let him live, starts spewing details of his life at them, his name, his wife, his three kids and how excited they are when he’s back home for a bit. Stede briefly considers just dumping him back in the water, letting nature take its course, but they can’t risk someone actually passing by and rescuing him. In the end, Olu puts his hand on Stede’s shoulder and nods, and Stede knows he’s right. He gives the order and Wee John executes it, just like last time. 

The second ship is different. It’s less obvious that it’s the Revenge ’s handiwork. It’s not on fire, for one thing. There’s still some loot left onboard, too, tucked away in a storage room. And in the same room is a shaking young teenager, curled into a ball behind some crates. 

It takes a while for them to coax the boy out. His eyes are wide and terrified, following their every move like they’re going to strike him. Finally Stede kicks the rest of the crew out of the room, slowly lowering himself to sit near him, though taking care to not bar him in. Stede offers him some water and after a moment of hesitation, the boy accepts it and drinks it down in a few gulps, like it will disappear if he doesn’t. 

“I’m Captain Thomas,” Stede says, using the fake name he’d thought up to try and make sure Stede Bonnet stays dead. “You can just call me Thomas, though, no need for all this captain business. What’s your name?”

He doesn’t answer for a few moments, then hesitantly says, “Matthew.”

Stede smiles. “Matthew. A fine name.” Matthew looks to be about 14 or 15, skinny in a way that indicates he’s never gotten enough to eat. His hair is dark and wavy, his eyes a rich brown that brings to mind another, much more dear, pair. “Matthew, I’m hoping we can help each other out,” he says. The boy immediately pulls away, his eyes flicking down to Stede’s lap. Stede’s stomach twists at the implications of what this boy’s already been through, even before being attacked by pirates. “No, not like that. Absolutely not,” he quickly reassures him, and that makes Matthew look back up at his face, confused. “I need to ask you what happened here, on this ship, who attacked you and where they went. And in return, we’ll take you to port and drop you off with some food and enough coin to get you where you need to be.” Stede really doesn’t have the funds to go throwing money around willy-nilly anymore, but they’ve managed to scrounge up some resources in the few small raids they’ve done, and they can spare a bit.

He looks skeptical. “You’re not going to kill me?” he asks.

“No.” Even if it puts them in danger or at a disadvantage, he’s not about to start killing kids. And this boy, he makes Stede think of Ed at this age, and how he’d have wanted someone kind to come upon him in this situation. Someone to show him gentleness and comfort and to help him.

“But you’re pirates?” he says. Asks, really.

Stede shrugs. “We are.” Matthew still looks like he’s waiting for Stede to suddenly just stab him in the eye. “How about this?” he starts. “You come back to my ship - if you want to; I won’t force you - and we get a good meal into you and a wash and maybe a sleep. And after that we can talk about what I want to know. How does that sound?”

Matthew studies Stede’s face for a long moment. Stede’s not sure what he’s looking for, so he tries to look as sincere and nonthreatening as possible - generally not a problem for him; it’s convincing people of the opposite that’s the tricky bit. Finally, Matthew nods and says, “Okay.”

“Okay!” Stede leads the boy back to the Atonement , fetching Roach first to get together a quick, hot meal and then letting him to his own devices to clean himself up and get some rest. He tells the crew to set off for the nearest port, that they’re going to drop the kid off, rather than kill him like the others. There is some token protesting, that if they take a detour they’ll lose the Revenge ’s trail, or that maybe they can keep the kid on as a new member, but ultimately they decide that dropping him off is the best decision.

The next day, late in the afternoon, Matthew emerges from belowdecks looking tired and still a little uneasy, but much better. The crew gathers to hear what he has to say, and Matthew tells them that it was like Blackbeard’s ship had appeared out of nowhere, it was on them so fast. “I could hear the older sailors screaming that it was him, that we were all going to be slaughtered. I panicked and I ran. I didn’t know how to fight. I only started as a deckhand last month. So I ran down below and went to that little room where I hide away sometimes, when I need to … to get away. It’s kind of tucked away and I thought maybe they wouldn’t find me there. I could hear all the fighting still going on, and people dying, and then it all just seemed to stop, and I didn’t know what was happening, but I didn’t want to risk coming out to see.”

Matthew is perched on a barrel, one that the crew had put in the center of the deck for Stede to sit on when they resumed their nightly storytime sessions on the new ship. Stede’s pulled up another barrel for himself across from him, the rest of the crew sitting and standing in various configurations around them.

“And no one found that room?” Stede asks, a little skeptical. Ed’s crew, and Izzy especially, are nothing if not thorough when it comes to tracking down loot on a ship. It seems strange that they could miss an entire storeroom.

“No, someone did. It was, um, a man who came in, started searching around. I tried to push myself as far back behind the crate as possible, but he must have heard me, ‘cause I looked up and he was staring at me. And I knew he was gonna kill me, ‘cause that’s what Blackbeard’s people do. But he just held a finger to his lip, like, to be quiet, and I looked at him again and he just had such friendly eyes, I knew he wasn’t gonna hurt me.”

That could be Lucius or Frenchie, or possibly even Fang. “What did he look like?” Stede asks. 

“Uh, kind of tall and skinny. Kind of dark skin, too, and his hair was kinda poofy and curly. And he had a beard.”

“Frenchie,” Wee John remarks quietly, to the affirmative murmurs of the crew. 

“And I asked him, ‘cause I didn’t know…. I asked if he was Blackbeard, and he looked surprised and kind of laughed and said no. And I asked if he was gonna take me to Blackbeard and he said no again. Said that Blackbeard’s got enough shit to deal with right now without a little twerp like me running about. And then he heard some people coming and told me to hide, not to come out until it was quiet and had been quiet for a while. He left and I could hear him telling whoever was out there that there was nothing in here, just some empty crates, and then they all left.”

“Anything else you can remember? You don’t happen to know which direction they went?” Stede asks. Matthew shakes his head. He exhales slowly. “Well, thank you, Matthew. You gave us a lot of good information there.”

He dismisses the crew and Matthew, who ducks back belowdecks. Stede approaches Buttons, who’s been listening at the helm, and asks, “What do you think? Still north?”

“Mmm.” Buttons glances to Karl, who’s perched on a nearby railing. He gives a short caw and Buttons nods. “Hard to say, Cap’n. But seems like, going off the last two, if they were going north then, dunnae why they’d switch it up now.”

“Right.” Stede sighs. “Well, once we drop the kid off, pick up some more provisions, maybe sell a bit of what we’ve rounded up, let’s head northeast. Try to recover some ground. Or … water, I guess.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

Stede leaves him to it, ducking down into the small Captain’s cabin on the Atonement . It’s nothing like his old cabin, much smaller, more sparse, less decoration. Not even any books. But it serves its purpose. 

They didn’t get as much information as Stede had hoped, but still. They know that Frenchie’s alive and well enough to be raiding. From Frenchie’s comment, it sounds like Ed is still alive, too, though Stede wishes he knew why Ed hasn’t been leading the raids. He wants to know if Ed is okay. Is he eating enough? Sleeping enough? Whole and healthy? 

Stede collapses onto the small bed tucked away as an afterthought and closes his eyes, trying to picture what Ed’s doing right at that moment, but the only image that comes to mind is Ed, curled up in on himself, tucked into Stede’s bathtub, crying and holding on to Stede’s hand.

Chapter Text

For the first time in about five days, Ed emerges onto the deck of the Revenge . It takes a while for anyone to notice him, sidling out of the captain’s cabin and leaning against the wall. Izzy is the first to see him, and the look on his face when he sees Ed - Ed and not Blackbeard - is comical. His mouth drops open and his brows furrow and he looks away and then back again, like he’s imagining Ed standing there. He looks like he doesn’t know if he should be relieved or if he should run Ed through right then and there. 

Ed’s in a different outfit. He’d discarded his leathers - they were covered in dried blood anyway, and he didn’t want to go through the long process of cleaning them - and raided the auxiliary closet, looking for something comfortable, casual, not too fancy. Something that a pirate could conceivably be seen wearing. He’d settled on a plain white shirt, a bit billowy, but light on the ruffles, and dark, full-length trousers, paired with his normal boots. He’s forgone the kohl, as well. His face feels clean and fresh for the first time in weeks. He’s still wearing his gloves, though, mostly to keep the bandage on his left arm covered. 

Izzy stomps over to him, drawing the attention of several of the crew on board, including Jim and Fang, who are repairing one of the sails. Ed crosses his arms, nervous but determined to stand his ground. And he knows that Fang and Jim will have his back, if things go wrong. Izzy stops an arm’s length away, looking Ed up and down. “Captain.”

“Izzy,” Ed replies, trying for cool and detached. He probably only manages to sound sort of stiff, though. 

For all that Izzy looks glad to see that Ed’s alive and out of the cabin, he also looks like he’s going to explode any second. There’s a vein pulsing in Izzy’s head, one that only appears like this when he’s reaching boiling point. He’s gritting his teeth so hard that Ed’s sure he’s grinding them down. “Could we have a word in private?” 

“No,” Ed says casually, trying to sound unconcerned. His stomach is wringing itself into knots inside though. He remembers how Izzy had held him by his hair, basically threatening to scalp him. The way he’d laughed in triumph when Ed had him by the throat, having succeeded in pulling Blackbeard out for just a moment. The utter certainty in his voice when he told Ed that he knew the core of him, the darkness that was his true self. He’s glad he’s crossed his arms already, with his hands tucked away, because otherwise they would be shaking. 

Izzy clenches his jaw, looking around the deck. Most everyone is watching now, including several of the new crew they’ve picked up along the way, most of them chosen for their thirst for violence. “Back to work, you fucking dogs!” he shouts at them, and most hurry to comply. Fang and Jim turn back to their own work, but Ed can see Fang’s eyes watching them, and though Jim’s back is turned, their senses are uncanny. Izzy turns back to Ed, practically steaming. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Coming up to check on how things are going up here.”

“No,” Izzy snaps. “I mean, what are you wearing ?”

Ed looks down at himself, plucking at his shirt. “Clothes.”

Izzy grabs the shirt, pulling at it. “These are Bonnet’s fucking clothes.”

Ed frowns, screwing up his face in confusion. “Are they? Hmm.” He shrugs. “Comfortable, though.”

“We threw out his things.” Izzy pushes back on Ed’s chest, only he’s already against the wall, so there’s nowhere for him to go.

“Did you?”

“I fucking oversaw it myself ,” he hisses. 

“Didn’t do a very good job, then, did you?” Ed comments mildly.

Izzy slams his fist against the wood right next to Ed’s head. Behind Izzy, Fang moves to get up, but Ed gives a small shake of his head. “How many times do we have to fucking do this, Edward?”

“I don’t know, Iz. You tell me.” Ed straightens, dropping his hands to his side. He towers over Izzy no matter what, but now he draws himself up and uses that height difference to his advantage. Izzy doesn’t back down, but his eyes widen. “How many times are you going to try to shove me back into a role I don’t want anymore?”

“As many fucking times as it takes to stick, apparently!” He reaches to grab Ed’s shirt again, but this time Ed catches his hand and pushes it away.

“It’s not going to stick,” Ed says simply.

“Like hell it won’t,” Izzy growls. He moves to grab Ed again, and again Ed catches Izzy’s wrist, holding onto it this time. 

“I don’t get it, Iz,” Ed says. “A couple days ago you were trying to bait me out with nice paintings, and now you can’t handle the fact that I’m wearing different clothes and didn’t put on my makeup?”

“At least then you would have been out . Not stuck in there wallowing in your own pathetic misery, mourning over your boyfriend who dumped you and then fucked off and died!” Fuck, how did Ed not realize before how fucking poisonous Izzy’s words are? Each one hits him like a dart, right where he’s most vulnerable. Where Izzy knows he’s most likely to react. “And now here you are, in his fucking clothes, clearly right back where you started, and it’ll be all up to me to drag you back to fucking reality because for some fucking reason, everyone else just loves to indulge Ed in his sad little fantasies. But that’s all they are. They’re just fucking fantasies .” Ed’s breathing hard, his heart racing. He tries to calm down, slow his breathing, but it’s so hard , because Izzy’s hitting every single one of Ed’s weak points. “And people like you and me, we don’t fucking get to have our fantasies.”

Ed wants to melt back into the wall behind him. Or climb back into the familiar protection of Blackbeard. This is fucking so much harder than it had been when he’d been practicing with Lucius. Trying to figure out what he was going to say and how he was going to fight back against Izzy. In the back of his mind, he remembers Lucius telling him to just be honest. You know who you want to be and what you want. You’re a pirate, so fucking take it .

“He’s not coming back, Iz,” Ed says, with as much control as he can. “He’s dead.”

Izzy furrows his brow. “I know he’s fucking dead. I’m the one who fucking told —”

“Not Stede,” he corrects. “Blackbeard.”

This, finally , makes Izzy pause. His mouth clamps shut and he takes a step back. “The fuck do you mean Blackbeard’s not coming back? You are Blackbeard.”

“I’m not.” Ed tries to put as much gentleness in his voice as he can. Izzy has clung onto Blackbeard for so long, for so much of his life. He’s defined himself by his role as Blackbeard’s right-hand man. It’s been his driving force, his purpose for so long. And now Ed’s taking it away. Essentially telling him that that person never existed. That Izzy’s entire life has been defined by a farce. By an infatuation for a man who was never real. How do you even begin going about dealing with that? “I’m not him anymore, Izzy. You need to get that.”

The fire blazes up in his eyes again as he snarls, “Because fucking Bonnet —”

“It’s not about Stede,” Ed says. “It’s me . It’s about who I want to be. I don’t want to be him anymore, Iz. I haven’t for a long, long time.” He tries to put his hands on Izzy’s shoulders, but Izzy shrugs him off, stepping back again. Ed sighs. “Stede just helped me realize it. He helped me figure out who I am.”

Izzy looks terrified now. More scared than Ed’s ever seen him. His eyes are wide, nostrils flaring. His hands are balled into fists at his sides, but Ed can tell that they’re shaking. But, like a wild animal, Izzy is still just as dangerous scared as he is when he’s angry. He spits out, “He left you. You showed him who you are and he decided he didn’t want you like that.”

The tears, right on cue, spring to his eyes, quickly overflowing. He doesn’t even try to wipe them away. “Maybe he didn’t,” Ed says, his voice growing hoarse. “But I do.”

And then he sees it, behind Izzy. It’s impossible that it’s still here, after weeks of sailing and fighting and a couple of storms. It should be gone. He’d meant for it to be gone. And yet there it is. A flash of red caught amongst a thick coil of rope that must have been used dozens of times since that day. He pushes past Izzy, carefully approaching the rope, as if one misstep will send it flying away, the way he meant it to. He bends down to pick it up and the familiarity hits him immediately. His mum’s voice, telling him about all the lovely things at the estate. Stede tucking it into his pocket. You wear fine things well . 

The silk is somehow just as smooth as it always has been, despite its time spent in the elements, the red just as rich and bright. He lets it slip through his fingers, the way he used to, falling back in love with the way it drapes, the way it barely catches on his calloused fingers, the shimmer of the color as the light hits it at different angles. He holds it up to his nose, breathes it in, touches it to his cheek, and then he’s crying in earnest, because somehow it feels like home . 

-

Much to Ed’s regret, rather than just accept that Blackbeard’s gone and Ed is just Ed, Izzy isn’t letting go without a fight. While Ed’s back is turned, distracted by the discovery of his red silk square, Izzy moves to draw his rapier. Before he can even put a hand on it, Jim has a knife to his neck, hissing, “Give me a fucking reason, cabrón .” 

Ed takes his time tucking the silk safely away in his pocket before turning to Izzy, wiping his eyes. Izzy’s face is twisted in hate and Ed fucking … he wishes Izzy would just understand . “Izzy,” he starts, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “I don’t want it to end like this.” Izzy’s jaw clenches, his eyes hard. “C’mon, man, you’ve been there every step of the way. Thirty fucking years we’ve been together, and now that I’ve decided to give up something that was killing me, you’re going to throw all of it away?”

“I’m not the one throwing it away, Edward,” he says with a sneer. “You want to play dress-up and have little tea parties and spend your money on pretty smells? Fucking fine. Destroy the best goddamn fucking pirate the world has ever known. I’m not going to play along with this cockbrained fuckstorm of a delusion.”

“If you just give it a chance , Iz—”

Izzy spits at Ed, the glob landing on his cheek. “The man I knew is dead. You said it yourself. This…” He looks Ed up and down, a look of disgust plain on his face. “This absolute embarrassment in front of me… I don’t know who the fuck he is.”

Ed wipes the spit from his face with his sleeve. He takes a long, hard look at Izzy, his loyal first mate who he thought would be there to the end. Where he once saw an infallible column of support, he sees only cannonballs tied to his legs, dragging him down to the depths. “Take him to the brig,” he tells Jim.

“Aye, Captain,” they say, grinning. With a practiced hand, they divest Izzy of his rapier, pistol, and the various knives hidden on his person. They spin him around, one hand at his neck, the other holding their knife to Izzy’s back. “Move,” they snap, giving him a shove, and with as much righteous anger as he can muster, unarmed and knifepoint digging into his back, Izzy goes. 

“Ivan,” Ed says, indicating his head to instruct Ivan to follow, just in case. Jim’s as fucking capable a person as Ed’s ever seen, but Izzy’s a slippery bastard at the best of times. An extra pair of hands can’t hurt.

Ed turns to the remaining crew, most of whom he doesn’t even recognize. They’re all watching him in silence, waiting for some kind of speech. Well, Ed doesn’t have the energy for another big kerfuffle like that - he was dragging at the end of it as it was - so he just looks each of them in the eye in turn. “Anyone else have a problem with me?” he asks, trying to sound authoritative. He’s not sure it comes across.

The crew glances and murmurs to each other. Finally, one of them shouts out, “We still gonna attack ships and shit?”

Ed shrugs. “Yeah. Still pirates, aren’t we?”

“Cool,” she says. “Then wear whatever the fuck you want. I don’t give a monkey’s tit.” There’s a general rumble of agreement, and then most of them go back to the work they were doing. 

Ed finally feels his body relax as he leans against the ship railing, letting his head fall back. Fang comes to stand next to him, giving him a sturdy pat on the shoulder. Lucius, as is his brand, chooses this moment to sidle out of the captain’s quarters, now that there’s no threat of a fight breaking out. He joins Fang at Ed’s side. 

“How do you feel?” Lucius asks.

Ed lets out a long sigh. “Fucking exhausted,” he says. But even through the fatigue, he feels so much lighter. All the expectations and pretending and posturing, all of it’s gone. He feels like for the first time in a long time - forever maybe - he can just discover himself, without worrying what anyone else expects from him. “But … better,” he continues. He even feels a small smile curving his lips.

“ Good ,” Lucius says emphatically. “You did so well, Edward. I’m proud of you.”

Ed pinks a little bit at the praise. “Yeah?” he asks shyly.

“We all are,” he says. Not for the first time, Ed feels so grateful for this honestly fucking brilliant kid. Lucius keeps giving Ed the pushes he needs to move forward, even after Ed tried to murder him. And, god, Ed is so glad that didn’t take. 

“Well, Captain,” Fang says, “what now?”

Ed brings a hand up to rub at his neck. He’s had an idea bouncing in his head, one that sounds pretty fucking pathetic and sad, but he thinks it’s something he needs to do. “I’ve been thinking,” he starts, eyes cast down to the ground. “I think I need something to … to, like, end this, you know? Like, emotionally. And I think to do that…” He sucks in a deep breath. “I think I need to go back south. Back to Barbados. Does that … is that stupid?” he asks. Immediately, Ed starts second-guessing himself, his mind backpedaling. “No, that’s … yeah, that’s a dumb idea. Never mind. I—”

“No, no,” Lucius jumps in quickly. “It’s a great idea. It makes total sense.” Ed chances a look at Lucius, and he’s smiling encouragingly. 

“Yeah. I think … I think it might help me sort some things out,” Ed says more confidently. “Like, I’m still really, really fucking pissed at him for just … leaving like that. And I know I’ll never get an explanation or anything like that now, like if I go to see his…” Ed stops, his mouth not able to connect the word grave to Stede. “To see him. But I’ll be able to say my piece, and to say goodbye, and I think … that’ll be good.”

Lucius nods. “Closure,” he offers. “You’re looking for closure.”

Ed thinks about it for a moment. Closure. An end to something significant. A way to start fresh. He likes the sound of that. “Yeah. Closure.”

-

It takes longer than Stede would prefer to get back out to sea once they’ve docked along the Florida coast. Dropping off the boy is easy enough, but once in port, they take some time to resupply, and then discover that there’s some damage to the hull causing some moderate leaking. Nothing too serious, but not something to let slide. And so Stede finds himself wandering the streets of Santa Lucia while repairs are underway, stopping every so often at merchant’s stalls to peruse the wares. He doesn’t really have the coin to spend as frivolously as he once might have, but to his surprise he finds that stall shopping, as it were, is quite fun in its own right.

He’s playing a bit with a jewelry merchant, trying on various rings and inspecting necklaces and bracelets with great care. He hems and haws over each piece ultimately declining each one, to the increasing dismay of the merchant. Stede’s just putting down a pair of jangly, rather gaudy earrings - “Oh, sir, those are perfect for your wife, or daughter maybe; they’re all the rage back in Spain.” - when his eye catches on another piece. “What’s this one?” he asks, pointing to it.

“Ah, sir, you have such refined taste!” the merchant oozes. He pulls forward another tray of rings, pushing the others aside to make room. He plucks out a relatively simple one - simple compared to its jewel-encrusted peers at least - and hands it to Stede to examine. “Sold to me just recently by a poor young widow. She’d intended it to be a gift for her new husband, who passed not long after they were married. Couldn’t look at the thing any longer, I’m afraid, despite the obviously superb quality.”

Stede lets the merchant’s rambling fade into the background as he studies the ring. The band is a polished gold, shaped in the form of two snakes wrapping around the wearer’s finger and twisting around each other. The eyes of both snakes are small dots of rubies, tiny but well-cut. Pressed into the head of one snake is clearly a diamond in a teardrop cut. On the other is a teardrop-shaped purple gemstone, one that Stede doesn’t recognize. “What’s this stone here?” Stede asks, running his finger over the smooth surface of the purple gem. “Not amethyst.”

“Indeed it’s not!” the merchant answers, seeming surprised at Stede’s knowledge. “It’s sapphire, actually, and quite a lovely cut.”

“Sapphire?” Stede repeats quietly. Sapphires themselves are fairly rare, and purple ones even more so, Stede knows. The shade is quite rich and for a moment Stede pictures it contrasting with the rich copper tones of Ed’s skin, the vividness of the color complementing Ed’s perfectly. The uniqueness and unexpectedness of it is just right for Ed, as well.

Stede continues his examination, turning the ring over in his fingers. Scales have been painstakingly carved into the band with great detail. As Stede angles it a certain way, something catches the light in a gentle shimmer. He looks closer, and suddenly he can see the shimmer of tiny diamonds pressed into the lines of the scales. His breath catches at the beauty, the level of detail, and he … he has to buy it. 

Letting out a thoughtful, but noncommittal hum, he says, “It does seem to be of a decent quality. How much are you asking?”

The merchant’s eyes brighten immediately at the possibility of actually making a sale with Stede, after so much time spent with him. “Oh, for something like this? I can be quite reasonable.” And he proceeds to name a price that before Stede wouldn’t have even blinked at, but now causes his stomach to twist sickly. 

He fights to keep his expression as mild as possible as he says, “Oh, come now, my good man. It’s a nice piece, but we both know it’s not worth anywhere near that.” It is, in fact, probably worth much more than the merchant’s price, which makes Stede think he may not have obtained it through entirely legal means, as he claims, but … well. “You’d be robbing me blind.”

What follows is a heated haggling session, in which Stede does his best to try to gaslight the merchant into believing this exquisite ring is basically a piece of garbage, questioning the authenticity of its provenance and the gemstones, proclaiming that the band is just iron painted to look like gold, and accusing the man of fraud. The merchant, in turn, rebuffs Stede as best he can, despite Stede having purposefully worked himself into quite a bluster, though does come down quite a bit in the price. 

Still, it’s more than Stede can justify spending now, and finally he says, “Well, gent, if you’re not going to work with me here, then I’ll just have to let this one go.”

Stede can tell that the man is dying to make a sale with him, but he does have a business to run and, presumably, has other costs to keep in mind. He deflates when he realizes that Stede won’t be making a purchase with him after all. “I’m sorry we couldn’t come to an arrangement, sir, but perhaps something else…?”

“Oh, I’m afraid not,” Stede says distractedly. He glances around him, as if only just noticing the time of day. “I believe I’ve spent too much time here already and I’m late for an appointment.”

“Of course,” the merchant says. “Please, feel free to come back another day if you’d like.”

Stede gives him a mindless, tight smile, and heads off, back down to the docks. He has an idea brewing in his brain as to how, exactly, he’s going to get his hands on that ring - because now that he’s seen it, he can’t not get it for Ed - but he’s going to need help. 

-

The next night Stede and Pete are pressed into the shadows across from a modest but clearly comfortable house. They’ve been watching for a few hours now, since the merchant came home. As the hours have progressed, the lights in the neighborhood have gone out one by one, until there are only a few houses with lanterns flickering through the windows of one or two rooms. The merchant’s house is included in this group, a light still on in what Stede approximates to be the sitting room. Someone has gone to bed already - he’s not sure if it’s the merchant himself or his wife - but Stede and Pete had observed another light, a candle probably, passing through the halls, up the stairs, into what must be a bedroom. After a short while, that light had gone out. 

Pete sighs impatiently. “What’s this guy doing still up? Pretty inconsiderate, making us sit here waiting to rob him.”

“Probably checking his wares for the morning,” Stede suggests uncertainly. That seems like a sensible thing to do, merchant-wise, though Stede doesn’t know much about the ins and outs of the profession. 

“Waste of time,” Pete says with a grin. “Just gonna be gone tomorrow, aren’t they? ‘Cause we’re fucking gonna rob you, dicknugget!” he whisper-yells. “Try and stop my captain from buying his psycho boyfriend a cool ring, fucking assho—”

“Is the color commentary really necessary here, Pete?” Stede asks with a sigh. He does feel slightly warmed about Pete’s apparent newfound protective feelings for him, but still. They’re trying to not get caught.

“Sorry, Captain.” Another few minutes pass in silence, and then seemingly unable to help himself, Pete says, “Still don’t know why we didn’t just jump him on his way home though. Could have been back on the ship by now.” He rushes to add, “No disrespect though, Captain.”

“For starters,” Stede says with a sigh - really, he and the crew had talked about this at length yesterday - “there might have been too many people around to pull it off successfully. He would have gotten a good look at us, plus any witnesses that were there would also be able to describe us. And the ship won’t even be ready until tomorrow, so we would have no getaway.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Pete deflates a bit. “Still, could’ve maybe gotten a bit of a stabbing in. That would have been fun.”

“Oh, who knows,” Stede says. “Maybe you still will, if he wakes up.”

“Hopefully!” Pete exclaims. “If not, can I still stab him while he’s asleep? Just a little one.”

“ No ,” Stede says firmly. “No unnecessary stabbings tonight.”

“ Fine .” He crosses his arms petulantly. 

They wait for perhaps another half an hour, this time in silence. Finally, they watch the lantern progress from the downstairs window up to the bedroom. It lingers there for a few minutes before finally going out. 

“ Finally ,” Pete whispers. He looks like he’s itching to burst into the house and Stede wishes not for the first time that Oluwande hadn’t been needed back on the ship. Pete has his talents, of course, but waiting patiently and then doing a cat burglary aren’t any of them. “How long do we wait now?”

“I think another thirty minutes or so.”

Pete groans and lets his head thud back against the wall.

-

The front door to the house is unlocked, which Stede finds a bit odd. A man with such valuable wares really shouldn’t be leaving that open for any old thief to come in and collect. The inside is neat and tidy, signs of upward mobility in the forms of paintings and little figurines and other decor dotted here and there. 

Stede leads the way into what he thinks will be the sitting room, figuring that would be as good a place as any to start. The room the merchant had been occupying for the last few hours, though, turns out to be a small office. There’s a well-taken-care-of, if a bit dinged up, desk pushed against one of the walls. Papers are organized into neat piles. Stede glances at them to see most appear to be inventory and ledgers of some kind. Not very interesting to Stede.

“Think they’re in here?” Pete whispers. He’s poking around inside a filing cabinet, leafing through folders and papers. 

“They must be,” Stede replies. “He was in here for hours. He must have been going over his sales.”

Stede starts looking through the desk, opening and quickly rifling through drawers. He hears Pete rummaging around behind him as well. After about ten minutes of searching the room, Stede starts to feel nervous. They’ve been here too long already. It was supposed to be just a quick in and out. The longer they stay, the higher the chance they’ll get caught.

“Captain!” Pete calls suddenly, his voice soft. “We got a safe here.”

“Oh! They must be in there!” Stede says, spinning around to look at where Pete’s pointing. It’s something between a trunk and a safe, really, sitting on a shelf tucked behind several books. It is, of course, locked. “Oh, bugger.”

Pete’s examining it, eying the keyhole and the hinges holding it together. “I could pick this,” he suggests confidently.

Stede lifts an eyebrow. “Could you?” he asks flatly. It’s not that he doesn’t believe in Pete’s capabilities, per se. It’s just … Pete has a tendency to overexaggerate his own abilities. And knowledge. And history.

“Yeah, I’ve picked loads of locks. Used to do it all the time when I was on Bl—”

And there it is. “I’m afraid we won’t have the time for that just now, Black Pete,” Stede says kindly. “Though I’m sure you’re very talented.” Stede turns to start digging through the room again. “Perhaps the key is here somewhere…”

“We could just bust it open,” he says. Stede hears the telltale scrape of the trunk being pulled forward, off the shelf. 

“Too loud, I’m afraid,” Stede interjects quickly. “You didn’t see a key while you were looking in here, did you?” He opens one of the drawers of the filing cabinet.

“Well, let’s just take it,” Pete says simply.

“Take what?”

“The safe.”

Stede frowns as he feels a lump at the bottom of one of the folders. Feels a bit bulky for a key, but… He reaches for it. “We can’t do that,” he answers as his fingers scrape for it.

“Uh, why?” There’s another scrape.

“Because it’s not ours .” Stede manages to get his hand on whatever it is back there. It’s a little cloth satchel with something inside it. He pulls it out and checks in the bag. Inside is a small stash of coins, not a significant amount, but decent enough to supplement their earnings. He feels a little thrill as he sticks it in his pocket and turns to Pete. Pete is just standing there, staring at him in disbelief. “What?”

“It’s not ours ?” Pete repeats. “Uh, you do realize we’re robbing this place, right? And you also just stole that money.”

Stede furrows his brow. “And?”

“ And … we’re already stealing shit that isn’t ours.” His tone laced with sarcasm, he continues, “We can take some jewelry and coin, but the safe ? Oh, now that’s too far.”

Stede frowns. Ah. Right. That … that doesn’t make much sense, does it? “Oh, um … yeah, that. Let’s do that.” Pete rolls his eyes - really, clearly Lucius has rubbed off on him - and heaves up the trunk. “Starting to sound a bit like Lucius there, mate,” Stede comments sourly.

Pete smiles sadly. “I miss him,” he sighs.

“I know.” Stede feels his own pang of longing at the thought of being separated from someone you love. Ed’s face, that day at the beach, after Stede said yes to running away with him, floats into his mind. How happy he’d looked. How lively and - now that Stede can freely admit it for himself he can recognize it on Ed’s face - in love . “We’ll get him back,” he assures Pete. He begins leading him out, out into the hall, and then out of the house. “We’ll get them all back.”

-

They make it back to the ship without incident. Pete drops the trunk onto the deck as soon as he can and it lands with a loud thud. There’s a moment of silence and then several pairs of footsteps are thundering up from belowdeck. The crew emerges one by one, sweaty and tired from their repair work. 

“How’d it go?” Olu finally asks, taking a seat on a crate. 

“Rather well, overall. Wouldn’t you say, Pete?” Stede asks, and before Pete has a chance to answer, Stede continues, “Had a bit of a problem with this safe here, though.” He nudges it with his foot. “Couldn’t open it there, unfortunately, so we had to take the whole thing. Oh!” He pulls out the sack of coins. “This too,” he says, giving it a jingle. “We’ll divide it up amongst ourselves later.”

Roach steps forward, eyeing the trunk. “If it’s a safe you need opened, I’ll give it a whack.”

“Oh, that would be—”

Stede’s interrupted by the sound of a large clank , then another, and another. Roach has, indeed, begun taking a whack at it. A number of whacks, actually, with a rather large hammer. 

“Think it’s—” he says in between hits. “Almost—” A few more. “ There .” With one last mighty, dramatic hit, the lock cracks off and Roach shouts in triumph. The rest of the crew join in with the cheer as Roach throws his fist into the air.

Stede is grinning as he comes forward, crouching in front of the trunk. The crew quiets down in anticipation. Stede suddenly feels incredibly anxious. What if the jewelry isn’t in there? What if it’s something else, and they did this all for nothing? God, what if it’s just more records ? Finally, though, he steadies his shaking hands and lifts the lid. 

He needn’t have worried. Inside is tray upon tray of valuable pieces of jewelry, glittering faintly in the moonlight. And there, on the top tray, off to one side, is the ring. He plucks it up and holds it up in the muted light. It’s just as beautiful as he remembers it. The small diamonds inlaid along the snakes’ scales glimmer and the ruby eyes almost seem to flash. 

The rest of the crew is leaning over the trunk, their heads knocking together as they all try to look at the same time. He watches them fondly. They’ve all been so good to him since he came back. And really they shouldn’t be. It’s because he hurt Ed that they were left to die. If they had just left together like they planned, none of this would be happening. And, yeah, Ed shouldn’t have taken his hurt out on Stede’s crew, and they will be talking about that when Stede finds him. But still. He thinks they deserve a little something.

“We’ll be selling it off at another port, like the rest of the loot we’ve got down in the keep. But first,” he says, smiling as his crew - his family - turns to look at him. “I think you all deserve to keep a piece for yourselves. I’m keeping one, after all.”

There’s a general reaction of chaos to that as everyone starts digging in the chest, looking for the perfect ring or necklace or bracelet or other accessory. Stede lets them at it and approaches Buttons, who’s standing off to the side. “Going to wait for all the hubbub to die down?” Stede asks.

Buttons shrugs. “Ah’ve no’ been one for jewelry, really. Migh’ take a look later.” He’s without his seagull companion tonight, and his head looks oddly empty without Karl there.

“How are the repairs?” Stede asks, starting to get anxious to go. They’ve lost so much time, and had already been so far behind when they started. Stede hates to think how far away the Revenge might have gotten in the last few days.

“All finished,” Buttons reports. “She’s ready to go now, if the crew didnae need some rest.”

“ Excellent ,” Stede says, grinning. “We set off first thing tomorrow then. Northeast.”

“Aye, Cap’n.”

-

They’re on their way at dawn without incident. For a few hours, the ship moves smoothly and briskly through the waters until they’re into the open sea. Stede is in his quarters, giving the ring a polish - though it doesn’t really need one; the merchant took good care of his wares - when there’s an urgent knock at his door. 

“Come in!” Stede jumps to his feet as Oluwande practically bursts in, looking rather wild. “What is it?”

“You … you’ve got to come see, Captain!”

“All right, all right. Is there something wrong?” Stede asks as he moves to follow Olu. He tucks the ring safely into his pocket.

“Just…” When they emerge Olu points up to the crow’s nest, where the Swede is peering through a spyglass to the south. “Swede spotted her first,” he says, ushering Stede up to the quarterdeck. “If we’d left any later, we would’ve missed her.”

Stede takes the spyglass Olu offers him and, his chest feeling tight, puts it to his eye. Immediately the tiny dot in the distance comes into clearer view. “No colors,” Stede remarks curiously. The ship is still so far off it’s difficult to see any details, but it… The figurehead, the actual head of it splintered off. The smooth lines of her. The rich color of the masts. He would know that ship anywhere. He birthed that ship.

“Come about,” Stede says faintly, unable to believe what he’s seeing. 

“Say again, Captain?” Pete calls from the helm. 

“Ready about!” Stede orders, jolting out of his trance. “All hands! Ready about!” 

He hears feet pounding on the wood and Buttons shouting orders to tack, but he can’t take his eyes off the Revenge in the distance. She’s there. So close now. And somewhere on board that ship are his missing crew members. And Ed. 

Stede’s heart races at the thought that in just a few short hours, he’ll be standing on the deck of his ship and in the arms of his love.

Chapter Text

It’s strange how quickly things seem to settle down after Ed’s confrontation with Izzy. He’s been thrown into the brig - though as this ship was Stede’s design, the brig is more a little sleeping nook with a decent bed that just happens to be behind bars than a jail. Izzy’s been shockingly quiet down there, and Ed would be worried he’d offed himself somehow if Frenchie weren’t taking meals down to him regularly. Ed hasn’t gone to talk to him again. He’s not sure he can, honestly, not right now. Not while Ed’s still feeling so fragile. Not while he’s trying to figure out who he is when he’s not Blackbeard, and when he’s not with Stede. 

Still, he’s going to have to figure something out with Izzy soon. He’s too dangerous to let go; he’s already proved that once by selling Stede out to the English. Now that Ed’s on his shitlist too, he doesn’t want to find out what Izzy will do to get revenge. They can’t just keep him on the ship indefinitely, though. He’s taking up valuable resources, and the time and energy of the crew, and his presence is still a pall over them all. Ed especially. Ed wishes again that Izzy would just get the fuck over it already, and then he could be part of the crew again. They could rewind a bit, past all the bad blood and resentment of the last few years. They could maybe actually be friends. But that scenario is so impossible that Ed almost feels embarrassed to admit that that’s what he wants. So if Izzy won’t come around to Ed just being Ed now, the safest option for everyone - the only option, really - is … to kill him. 

But Ed … Ed just can’t do that.

So instead he pretends that he and Izzy are just in a little spat and that things will go back to normal soon. Sure. It’s a really super healthy way of dealing with things.

Truthfully, Ed really doesn’t have the mental space to deal with Izzy anyway. There are other things on his mind. Or one thing, really. 

The closer they get to Barbados, the more real Stede’s death feels. Like… He knows it happened. He spent days locked in his quarters just trying to come to terms with it. He nearly killed himself because of it. But out here, on the sea, it feels so far away. Like he can pretend it didn’t happen. He can imagine that Stede is out there somewhere, happy. Wherever he is. And it hurts imagining that, because if Ed is going to fantasize about Stede, he wants to fantasize about him actually being here. Talking and laughing. Getting into trouble. Being infuriatingly surprising. But Stede decided he didn’t want that, and so now if Ed’s fantasizing about him, it’s enough that he’s just alive and happy somewhere .

Now they’re sailing south, though, to Barbados, and Ed will figure out where Stede’s buried, somehow. And he’ll go stand at his … by him, and maybe bring flowers, because he always liked having flowers to brighten up his quarters. And Ed will talk, and say his piece, and probably beg for Stede to come back, and cry, and he won’t get an answer. And that will be devastating, too. But then he’ll say goodbye, and maybe he’ll be able to move on. 

To what, he doesn’t know. But … but it’s like Lucius said all those weeks ago. Letting go doesn’t have to be a death. 

-

With Lucius’ help, Ed has been slowly transforming the captain’s cabin into something resembling a living space. They don’t have any extra furniture at the moment, so there still aren’t any cushy couches or soft armchairs to relax on. The nice, big, fancy table that Stede’d had in here is pockmarked with knife gouges from where Ed’s spent long stretches of time just stabbing into the surface of it. It’s … pretty much unfixable, but Lucius nabbed some sandpaper from the ship’s stores and Ed’s been trying to smooth it out. Some of the marks are too deep to be fixed like this, and the table will need a varnish after it’s done, but it’s something, at least.

He’s started moving some of the things he secreted away in the auxiliary closet back into the main space. It’s mostly small things: some jewelry, several empty bottles of some of Stede’s beauty supplies, a quill that Ed really liked the color of, a decorative plate the purpose of which never made sense to him, but the flower on it was pretty. There’s also the small chest that he’d tucked away before he even knew he was going to toss everything out, filled with small curiosities Ed had found while building the blanket fort. He takes a moment to look through it all again, but decides to keep it tucked away in the closet for now. These things … there’s something about them that’s too personal to put out right now. 

He shamelessly pulls out all of the blankets and pillows he’d shoved into the closet and arranges them into a little cushioned area near the fireplace on the floor. It’s not a blanket fort, and it’s not a nice soft armchair, but it will do. And some of the blankets even still smell like Stede. 

Last, he brings out the books he’d saved. He’s not sure what they’re about - he still can’t fucking read - but he remembers these as being ones that Stede was particularly fond of. He’d taken care to memorize the colors and the letters on the covers, even if he didn’t know what they meant. These he places back on the bare bookshelves in a small stack. They somehow make the space look even emptier, but he doesn’t move them. With them there, it’s like a small piece of Stede is still here too. 

When he’s not working in the cabin or actively avoiding Izzy, Ed comes up on deck and works with his crew. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s done any grunt work on a ship. Being a living nightmare that everyone’s terrified of will generally get you out of doing the shit jobs - being a captain, too. Now, though, it feels good to get in and do some manual work. He hauls lines and mends sails and takes watches and does repairs. He actually gets to know some of the new crew, who look vicious, but are really pretty nice actually. It’s all a really wonderful distraction from what’s waiting for him at the end of this journey. 

-

A few days after Ed takes back his ship, he asks Lucius to draw him a bath. It’s been a long fucking time since he’s done any kind of regular hygiene maintenance, and he’s pretty sure he smells pretty ripe. He feels grimy, too, and he knows it will feel heavenly to get some of that dirt off him. He takes his time in the water, enjoying the heat of it soothing his aching joints. It feels great to just sit like this. Relax. Let his mind think of things other than … well, everything that’s been going on. He even dozes off a little, waking up as the water starts to cool down. 

Realizing if he stays in the bath for too much longer, he’ll soon be sitting in some pretty chilly water, he gets to the actual business of the bath. He does his hair first, working some of Stede’s leftover soap into the thick locks. He scrubs at his scalp, loosening up the dirt and sweat that’s built up over the past few weeks. He rinses it all out, somehow feeling much lighter than when he got into the bath. He does his body then, soaping up everywhere. He scrubs at his skin until he has a slightly pink tinge all over. When he finally gets out of the bath, it’s honestly pretty gross looking. It’s dark with the layers of dirt and grime that had been plastered to Ed. He wrinkles his nose as he looks down into the brown bathwater. That had all been on him.

He pulls the plug from the drain and watches as the water starts to swirl away. He’d asked Stede how it worked, once, and Stede had said it drains out into the sea. He’d had some plumbing built into the ship that ran behind the walls and down to a small opening for the water to trickle out. That way, he’d said, though they had to lug the water in, they didn’t have to lug it back out again when his bath was finished. 

He towels off quickly, padding over to the mirror above the sink. He’d laid out a razor earlier, thinking it might be nice to clean up his beard a little. Now, though, Ed looks in the mirror, at the already nearly-full beard coming in. He scratches his fingers through it, the strands soft, but scratchy. It’s coming in much more grey than his other beard had been and somehow that hits him hard. He never thought he’d live long enough to see his beard more grey than black. And yet here he is, sore and stiff and getting wrinkles. 

After a moment of thought, Ed picks up the bowl of shaving cream he’d mixed earlier and starts applying it to his beard. He spreads it across the whole thing, and once that’s done, before he can change his mind, he picks up the razor and shaves a stripe right on his cheek. He’s done with the beard for now, he thinks. He doesn’t need it to cover up and hide any soft spots anymore. He doesn’t need to look the part of the terrifying Blackbeard now. It’s time for a change. New Ed, new look. And he can always grow it back later if he wants to. 

When he’s finished, he runs his hand over his jaw and chin, still marveling at how smooth his skin is. He reaches for his robe to toss on before leaving the bathroom, but one small sniff is all it takes to realize that it definitely needs a wash before he puts it on his clean body. He drops it into the pile of the clothes he’d been wearing before the bath, and tosses the towel there for good measure. 

Ed emerges from the bathroom fully naked. He’s never had a problem with nudity. Living in close quarters with others most of his life saw to that. He forgets, sometimes, that other people aren’t as used to it. And he also wasn’t expecting anyone to be in the cabin.

“Edward, do you— oh god.” Lucius is standing near the bookshelves, his torso twisted away and hands covering his eyes. “Oh, fuck, shit , sorry, I—”

“Don’t fucking freak out, it’s just my dick.” Lucius lets out a little squeak. “Would’ve thought you’d be used to seeing people naked now, you’ve been on the ship long enough.” Ed slides past Lucius to pull the lever to open the auxiliary closet and leaves the door slightly open. He hasn’t bothered moving any of the clothes to the actual closet, mostly because it feels pretty pointless. They’re already all in here, and he doesn’t need to make room for anything else. Plus, he really likes opening the secret door. 

“It’s not nudity I have a problem with.” Lucius’ voice fades slightly as he walks away from the closet, clearly trying to put space in between them. “I mean, I’ve drawn most of the crew naked. It’s my boss’s nudity that’s the issue here.”

Ed frowns, looking down at himself. “Am I that hideous?” he asks. He’d always thought he was decent, at least, and before people were too scared to even glance at him, he’d gotten his fair share of appreciative looks. He turns to look in the full-length mirror installed in the closet. He doesn’t see anything glaringly wrong with him. There’s the massive knot of scars on his left side, sure, and other scars dotted here and there, but other than that… He’s muscled and he’s got cool tattoos, long legs, and, frankly, a pretty nice dick, so. His tummy is getting a bit soft, sure, but it’s kind of cute, really.

“Um, no ,” Lucius calls. The duh is implied by his tone of voice. “The opposite, actually.”

“I’m … too hot?” Ed asks. He hears Lucius let out a nervous bark of laughter. “And that’s a problem?”

“Um, yeah . If you haven’t noticed, I really like men. Especially hot men. And I really can’t be thinking about my boss like that, because that’s been a problem in the past, and it just leads to some really confusing and shitty stuff, so—”

“So because you think I’m hot, we’re automatically gonna fuck? I don’t get a say in this?” He catches sight of something on his left hip, a mark that he doesn’t remember being there. He frowns, wondering how he could have missed a spot during his thorough cleaning, but applying a little spit and rubbing at it doesn’t make it any less faint. 

“Yeah, sure, but I’m also very good at flirting, and sometimes I can’t help it. I fucking don’t even know I’m doing it sometimes.” His voice is a little closer now, like he’s gotten over his initial freak out and his curiosity is outweighing his sense of propriety. “And, like, it was bad enough before, when you were all cool and gruff . And you had that leather thing going on.” He sounds like he’s just outside of the closet now. “And, god, your arms .” There’s a pause, and then in a low, slow voice Lucius asks, “Have you ever been sketched?”

“You’re good with flattery, I’ll give you that,” Ed says, distracted. He steps closer to the mirror, leaning in to try to get a better look. “Not interested though. You’re not my type.”

“And what is your type?” Lucius thankfully seems to have stopped just shy of the cracked opening. 

Stede .

A pang of sadness hits him and he has to blink away sudden tears. Instead, he focuses on the new mark on his skin. It’s too hard to see from this angle what it is, and it’s mostly covered by a tattoo of a seahorse, anyway. “Can you stop flirting and come check something out for me?” Ed asks. 

“Oh, shit, uh.” Lucius groans. “Fuck, sorry. I just was thinking of you in that leather and, like, the image is so —”

“Lucius,” Ed says, pitching his voice low with a warning. He reaches for a pair of breeches.

“ Fuck . Yeah. Okay.” 

Ed is just starting to pull them up when he sees Lucius slide into the closet in the mirror’s reflection. His eyes drop down to approximately where Ed’s arse is still on display, until he finally gets the breeches up all the way. Ed shoots him a disparaging look and Lucius shrugs. “It was right there , and you said you didn’t have a problem with nudity!”

“Right.” He turns around and tugs the hem of the breeches down a little on his hip, exposing the marked area. He points at it. “I’ve got a weird mark there and I can’t tell what it is in the mirror. Doesn’t look like a bruise or anything. Can you tell what it is?”

Lucius looks at him, unimpressed. “It’s a seahorse.”

“No, fuckin’...” He sighs. “Under the seahorse, there’s another mark.”

Lucius bends down to inspect it closer. “Oh, yeah, there is…” His brows are furrowed as he tries to make it out. “It’s kind of hard to tell, but it … looks like … your name?”

Well, that doesn’t make any sense. “My name?”

“Yeah, just … ‘Ed’.” Lucius straightens up.

“Well, where the fuck did it come from?” Ed asks, looking down again. 

“I don’t know. You must have gotten it tattooed at some point and then just … forgot about it.”

Ed glares at him. “No, I didn’t tattoo my own goddamn name on myself. I’m not a fucking narcissist.”

Lucius rolls his eyes and says, “You literally have your own face tattooed on your arse.”

Fuck, he’d forgotten about that one. He doesn’t even remember getting it, just remembers getting absolutely blitzed with Jack and then waking up the next morning with his arsecheek stinging like hell. “Yeah, well that was all fucking Jack , wasn’t it? I didn’t tell him to do that.” Well, he doesn’t remember telling Jack to do that, but he supposes he may have thought it was a good idea at the time, in the way that fucking stupid tattoos always seem like a good idea when you’re tanked. 

“So, Jack could’ve done that one as well?”

He sighs. “No, man, I’m telling you, that one wasn’t there.”

“All right, fine!” Lucius says, holding up his hands. “No need to push me off the ship over it.”

“Are you gonna use that against me all the time?” Ed asks with a scowl.

“Yeah, absolutely. Hundo p. Let me take another look at this then.” Lucius bends down again, his eyes squinting, mouth turned down in a frown. A look of realization suddenly hits him. “Oh, fuck.”

“What? What is it?” Ed asks, alarmed.

“Um, it’s…” Lucius straightens back up suddenly, his eyes wide. “Do you have anything sharp on you?”

“ Why ?”

“You’re … you’re really not going to like this,” he cautions. 

“Would you just tell —”

“Okay! But don’t take it out on me.” Ed waves his hand in a get on with it already motion. “It’s, um … a wordmark.”

It takes a moment for the word to sink in. When it does, Ed’s stomach twists in horror. “ What ?” he snaps, reaching to grab Lucius’ shoulder. Lucius takes a nimble step back and Ed pulls his hand back. “Fuck, sorry. But … fucking… It’s not a bloody wordmark .”

“It is,” Lucius says grimly. “I would know, I’ve had, I think, 12 now?”

That distracts him for a moment. “ Twelve ? How is that even—”

Lucius shrugs, saying, “I dunno. Mine just come and go. I’ve got three right now.” He frowns. “Or I did, last time I checked. It’s been a while though. Maybe I should—”

“Shut up.” Frantically, he tugs down the other side of his trousers, not knowing what he’ll do if Stede’s mark has disappeared. But it’s still there, thankfully, still difficult to see covered by his tattoos, but definitely present. He sighs in relief. “I don’t … I can’t have another wordkeeper. I don’t want one.” Lucius doesn’t say anything, just looks at him sadly. “I … Stede was it for me. I can’t… I can’t .” To his dismay, he feels his eyes pricking again. He always seems to be one errant thought away from tears these days.

“Hey, it’s okay, Edward.” His arm twitches, like he wants to reach out. “Normally I would give your a shoulder pat or something, but I feel kind of weird doing that when you’re not wearing a shirt.” Wordlessly, Ed pulls a nearby robe off its hanger and tugs it on. Lucius smiles softly at that. “Okay.” He lays his hand Ed’s upper arm, giving it a slight rub. “You don’t have to be okay with it. You don’t even have to consider it, honestly.”

Ed wipes his eyes on his sleeve. “But the universe—”

“ Fuck the universe,” Lucius says adamantly. “Like the universe knows what the hell it’s doing. Besides, most people don’t even meet their wordkeepers. What are the chances you’ll meet another one of yours?”

“You think?” he says with a sniffle. These tears are his least favorite kind. The kind that just spills out and out silently, no matter what he does.

“Yeah. And remember what we talked about. It’s your life. You can decide what you want, and who you want.” He squeezes Ed’s arm. “And if who you want is no one, then that’s fine too.”

“Okay.” Ed wipes his eyes again. Thankfully, the tears seem to be slowing. He seriously doesn’t know how Lucius makes everything sound so easy and obvious. Like … of course he can decide who he wants in his life. “Yeah, okay. Yeah, whoever this guy is can just fuck off, honestly. And who does he think he is, anyway, calling me ‘Ed’ the first time we meet? What a dick.”

Lucius gives his arm one final squeeze and smiles. “There we are. Now, how about you finish getting dressed, and then you can comb out your hair, because if you let it dry like that it’s going to be ridiculous.”

-

A few uneventful days pass. Ed tries not to think about the new mark on his hip, focusing instead on ship work. He still doesn’t know what he’s going to do about Izzy, down in the brig yet. Frenchie and Jim’s reports on his status when they bring him food aren’t helpful either. All they say is that he’s quiet and calm, which makes Ed pretty nervous, to be honest. And of course, there’s what he’s going to do when they get to Barbados. He really doesn’t like thinking about that. 

There’s a lot he’s trying to ignore, actually. 

He’s pretty distracted by all of this not-thinking when Ivan approaches him one morning. It takes him a moment to even realize that Ivan’s talking to him. “Sorry, mate, what was that?”

Ivan points a thumb over his shoulder, aft. “There’s a ship following us. Looks to be gaining on us, too.”

“There’s what ?” Ed snaps. He follows Ivan to the back of the ship and takes his offered spyglass. He can see the ship in the distance and the spyglass brings her into clearer view. He can’t make out any details on her, though, and he doesn’t recognize her at all. 

“We weren’t sure at first if they were heading our way on purpose, but they’ve gained a lot of distance in just the last hour. They obviously want something .”

Ed can’t help but feel a twinge of curiosity. His ship is generally the one doing the chasing, not the other way around. “Too small to be naval,” he comments. Despite the curiosity, he should probably try to scare them off. They don’t need some random sailors popping over for a little chat. “Hoist my colors. Let them see just who they’re chasing.”

Contrary to Ed’s expectations that this ship would divert its course upon seeing Ed’s flag, she just raises up a white flag and keeps right on coming. “Determined little buggers,” Ed comments. He can’t help his peaking interest. He’s never had a ship chase him down to surrender . “The fuck do they want?”

Jim’s standing at the rail next to him, as silent as they ever are. Still, Ed feels a tension in them that he can’t quite read. “Thoughts?” Ed prompts.

They shake their head. “Nothing solid. Just a feeling.”

Ed doesn’t know a lot about Jim - they rarely, if ever, offer information about themselves - but he does know that he trusts their instincts. “Good feeling or bad feeling?”

Their mouth thins. “I’m not sure yet. It’s a big feeling though. Significant.”

Ed grimaces. “Cool. Love that.” The ship is still pretty far off, but they’re close enough now that Ed can make out figures on it, rushing back and forth to keep up the pace they’ve set. There’s a solitary figure standing at the bow. Ed feels something stir in him at the sight, though he can’t say what it stirs, exactly. 

After another hour it becomes clear that this little ship isn’t going to give up the chase. Ed gives the order to spill wind. “If nothing else, it’ll be easy money,” he says by way of explanation, trying to convince himself that that’s the only reason they’re slowing down. Not because he wants to find out who these guys are and how they have such titanium balls. 

Eventually, they come into clearer view and Ed focuses his spyglass on the figure still standing at the bow. There’s something… He feels like his heart stutters at the sight of him. It looks like … the way the sun reflects off of his golden hair and highlights little bits of ginger. The way he’s standing, leaning forward over the rail like Stede always did, giving Ed a heart attack every time with the image of him losing balance and accidentally falling overboard. But his clothes are all wrong and he’s got a beard (just a hair more ginger than blonde, and Ed just thinks cute before mentally shaking himself), plus he looks a little bigger than Stede did, a bit more muscular. 

And it … he’s dead anyway, so it can’t be him.

Still, as the ship comes closer, Ed can’t shake the absolute feeling of familiarity . It’s so strong that he finds himself leaning over the railing to get a closer look. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he feels Jim’s hand on his shoulder, pulling him back. He pulls the spyglass from his eye and blinks several times, trying to get the image of the man ( not Stede, it can’t be) out of his head. Fuck, he’s … he’s gotta get away for a bit or he’s going to drive himself crazy. 

He hands the spyglass to Jim without a word and stalks off the quarterdeck. At the bottom of the stairs, Lucius is standing, leaning against the mast, a thoughtful frown tugging down the corners of his mouth. “What is it?” Ed asks. “What are you thinking?”

Lucius glances to him, then back to the ship. “I’m thinking…” he says haltingly, “that if I say what I’m thinking it’s going to make you upset. And if I’m wrong about what I’m thinking, that’ll be even worse.” He looks back at Ed to gauge his reaction. “So I think I’m going to keep it to myself for now.”

Ed sighs. He’s not … he’s not going to try to kill the little shit again, if that’s what he’s worried about. Ed knows that Lucius is clever and has valuable insights, which is why he asked in the first place. But if he doesn’t want to tell Ed, then … fine. He just … he’s thinking something too, and if what he’s thinking lines up with what Lucius is thinking then… He doesn’t know what that would mean, but it would mean something, probably. “Find me when they’re close. I’ll be in my cabin.”

Lucius nods and Ed turns to go to his quarters. He reaches for a bottle of rum on the table before thinking better of it. Whatever this is, it’s probably best to have a clear mind to deal with it. Instead, he tucks himself into his little blanket nook, covering himself with way more blankets than necessary. He reaches up to grab one of the books from the shelf above him and cracks it open. 

Lucius had finally gotten around to what he’d come looking for Ed for, the other day, before getting derailed by Ed’s nudity and subsequent freakout over his new mark. He’d seen the books stacked up on the bookshelves and had offered to teach Ed how to read, if he wanted to. His immediate reaction was to decline. Ed had gotten by just fine before without reading. But then he thought about how much effort and time it would take and it sounded like a good way to distract himself from all the things he didn’t want to think about. 

Because it’s only been a few days since he started learning, Ed’s reading skills are still very basic. He recognizes all the letters now and knows the sounds they’re supposed to make. But Lucius had warned him right away, and as he quickly discovered, English is a garbage language with letters that can make multiple sounds and rules that are broken half the time anyway. So it’s pretty slow going actually recognizing what the letter combinations are supposed to be. It’s the perfect activity to take his mind off of whatever’s coming. 

He ignores the initial shouting and yelling from above and it dies down soon enough. If they needed him, they would have come to get him. The feeling of the ship actually stopping is a little more concerning. He didn’t tell anyone to put down the anchor; what if they need to make a quick getaway? He trusts Fang and Ivan not to drop anchor for just anyone, though, so it must be someone they recognize and trust enough not to attack them. 

He forces himself to focus on the book in front of him. Puzzling out some of these words is impossible, but others he eventually figures out. He feels a swell of pride when he actually manages to understand the gist of an entire paragraph, even if he can’t get all the words. His concentration is completely broken when another round of shouting starts and this time he hears voices shouting back. Ed steels himself to step out into a brawl, setting his book aside, spine still cracked open to his page. After a moment, though, he realizes that the yelling isn’t angry or threatening. It’s … happy. Like, really fucking happy. And then he hears Lucius, clear as day, shout over everyone else, “Pete, if you don’t get your hot ass over here right fucking now, I will kill you so hard .” 

It’s the crew, he realizes. Stede’s crew. They somehow made it off that tiny island and tracked them down with a new ship. There’s an initial thick wave of relief, similar to the one he felt when he found out Lucius was still alive. Thank god , whichever god it was, that they made it off and didn’t die. And then a worse wave of guilt follows closely behind because now he’s going to have to really confront what he did and he’s not prepared for that yet. 

He’s too terrified to go up to the deck on his own. He’s not sure what to expect. Are they angry? Yeah, fuck, of course they’re angry . Ed fucking marooned them on a tiny island. But to what extent? And what are they here to do? Just picking up their missing crew members? Or are they here for retribution?

He doesn’t have long to wonder because within a few minutes Lucius is flying into the room. He’s grinning, wider than Ed’s seen him smile in a long time. Ed supposes he would be. He’s only been here because he has to be. There was nowhere else for him to go. And he’s only been helping Ed because it makes being here easier, not having to look over his shoulder every second, wondering if Ed’s going to try his hand at murder again. Now his crew is back, and he can go back to them, with Frenchie and Jim, maybe even Fang, and leave pathetic old Ed behind. 

Lucius schools his smile into something more manageable when he sees Ed, though he looks like it’s truly a battle to do so. “It’s … it’s them,” Lucius announces, unable to stop the happiness in his voice. “The crew. It’s all of them.”

Ed wants to just bury himself in these blankets and never leave. “What do they want?”

“To talk,” Lucius says. His smile finally drops and his brows pinch in concern. “You’re… This is going to be a lot,” he warns as Ed slowly gets up. “Are you going to be able to handle yourself?”

“Yeah, ‘course,” he says shortly, though he’s really not sure if he will. “Let’s go. Who’s in charge now? Oluwande?”

“Uh, you’ll see,” Lucius says a little nervously. He leads the way down the hall and out onto the deck. 

Everyone is gathered around the railing, even his new crew drawn into the excitement of a reunion. Fang is dropping a ladder over the side of the ship. Ed glances over to the other ship. He catches sight of Buttons still over there, and Roach and the Swede, back there to keep an eye on things. Oluwande is the first one up and he locates Jim immediately, rushing to their side with a cry of their name and then melting into a kiss. Pete is right after him, being bodily hauled over the railing by Lucius, who barely lets Pete find his feet before he’s hauled into a kiss, too, and then Lucius is babbling, “God, babe, I missed you so much. You have no idea the shit that’s been happening,” and Pete’s saying just as fast, “Sweetie, I missed you too, fuck, you look thinner, are you okay ?”

Behind them, Wee John is struggling to tip over the railing with Lucius and Pete locked in an embrace right in front of it. “Yeah, very sweet, but could you move the fuck over?” he says, giving them a soft shove. They step off to the side, still tucked up together. John sweeps Frenchie into what looks like a bone-crushing hug with a cry of, “Thank fucking god!”

Frenchie flails for a little bit with a huge smile on his face before John puts him down. “Happy to see you too, mate,” he says. He cocks his head to the side. “Everyone else got a kiss though.”

John looks shocked for all of one second before saying, “Yeah, okay,” and tugging him in, and Ed had no idea about whatever was going on between the two of them .

There’s still another person climbing up and somehow Ed actually feels the tension ratcheting up by several notches. Maybe it has to do with how the three couples break apart to watch expectantly, or Lucius separating himself from Pete to come stand by Ed with a hand on his shoulder. Maybe it’s the hand that appears first, grabbing onto the railing. It’s a hand Ed knows well, only there’s no ring on it now. Just a band of lighter skin where it was. Ed’s entire body tenses up. There’s no way . It … it can’t actually be him. 

But it is. Stede fucking Bonnet is hauling himself back from the dead, up and over the railing, looking like he’s right back where he belongs. Ed had been right before: he is a little bulkier than he was, new muscle from apparently actually sailing . The beard is ( cute ) new, gingery and soft-looking. He’s wearing only a billowy white shirt, still ruffly but very plain, very ( hot ) practical, with trousers and simple boots. His hair is loose, blowing in the breeze. Ed has never wanted to touch it more than he does right now. 

The sight of him is wonderful . A dream come true. 

It’s devastating. 

The look on his face is absolutely devastating . It’s exactly how he looked at Ed before, open and happy and hungry and soft. He’s not smiling, not at the moment, but there’s that joyful crinkle in the corners of his eyes. He takes a step forward and Ed instinctively starts to do so as well, but then he reminds himself that none of it’s real and he stops. The love and tenderness in his eyes, the joy on his face, it was all there before, and it was all a lie . So this must be a lie, too. 

A flicker of sadness plays on Stede’s face and then is gone. “Ed,” he says simply, but the meaning is anything but simple. There’s longing and love and hope in that one word, but also an apology and fear. 

Next to him, Lucius makes a small sound of realization, but Ed doesn’t have the ability to try to figure out what that’s about right now. He’s trying to figure out what to do or say, what will have the biggest impact. The problem is there’s too much he wants to say. He wants to burst into tears and tell Stede that he’s so fucking happy he’s alive. He wants to scream at him for leaving, for abandoning him. He wants to show Stede how badly he was hurt, how badly he’s still hurting, and to make Stede feel that bad too. He wants to beg Stede to take him back, plead for Stede’s forgiveness for Ed trying to kill Stede’s entire crew. He wants to punch him right in his stupid, beautiful face. To rip off his glove and bandages and show Stede what he did to himself, what he almost did to himself. And he fucking wants to tell Stede that he’s grown , all because Ed wanted to change and not because he thought he needed to change for someone else. 

He doesn’t say any of this. He opens his mouth to say part of it, any part of it, but all that comes out is a hoarse, “ You .”

Chapter Text

Stede is positive that the ship they’re chasing down is the Revenge . He knows her like he knows how to breathe. She’s a part of him. The rest of the crew is hopeful, but not anywhere near as certain. It’s only when the Revenge flies Ed’s colors that the crew lets out a cheer and begins working with much more fervor, despite that being a clear signal of stay away . Stede has them hoist a white flag, hoping to make it clear that they aren’t looking for a fight. The last thing they need is the Revenge firing on them by accident. Or on purpose, knowing Izzy. 

The crew was lucky to happen upon the Atonement when they did. They would have taken anything at the time, but Stede had known the first time he’d seen her that she was exactly what they needed. She’s a small ship, not much in the way of weapons or defense, but fast . Even going up against the Revenge , which Stede had built for speed, the Atonement is gaining on them. It’s slower than Stede would prefer, but they’ll catch up eventually.

Stede stays perched at the bow through the entire chase. Soon they’re close enough that he can see people, but can’t make out who they are. Still, there’s one figure keeping watch at the stern that he knows is Ed. He can’t explain how he knows - he can’t see any defining features - but the feeling is so strong that it has to be true. The closer they get to the ship, the more certain he is. He’s not in his normal leather ensemble, dressed in a soft tan blouse that Stede recognizes as one of his own - Stede never could pull off the color though; that shade of tan tends to wash him out horribly - and black trousers. But the way he’s standing, and his hair whipping about his face… It’s definitely him. Stede’s relieved to see that he’s clearly okay. He’d been worried, with the reports from the raid survivors they’d found, that Ed would be sick or injured or worse. But he’s there, standing tall at the stern, a spyglass in his own hand looking back at Stede. 

Ed disappears eventually, though why Stede can’t hazard a guess. The Revenge has slowed down to let them catch up and it isn’t long before they’re close enough for Stede to be able to make out some of the figures. He sees Jim posted up at the stern, where Ed had also been not too long ago. Lucius is on the main deck, Frenchie close by. They seem to be deep in discussion. 

“I’ve got sight of all three of our missing people,” Stede announces to his crew behind him, all of them working hard to keep the ship going. “They all seem to be no worse for wear.” The crew cheers behind him and then dissolves into a shouted discussion about what they’re going to do once they reunite. 

Stede sweeps over the ship a few more times. There are Ivan and Fang, both also seemingly healthy. There are several crew members he doesn’t recognize, people they must have picked up along the way. He doesn’t see Ed anymore, though, and he wonders where he’s gone and why . Stede knows that he broke Ed’s heart. He’d had no idea when he left that Ed would be so affected. He has a lot to apologize for. But he had hoped that Ed would be at least somewhat happy to see him. With his loud absence on deck, though, Stede feels a prickle of unease. The unease grows when he can’t find sight of Izzy either. If Ed isn’t on deck, Izzy should be there to act in his stead, and Izzy’s nothing if not dutiful. Are Ed and Izzy somewhere belowdeck together? Planning something? Or is something else going on here? From another cursory glance, Ivan looks to be in charge at the moment, and seems comfortable in that position. Has something happened to Izzy, then, that’s put him out of commission? Stede can’t help the intruding thought that without Izzy there to stir things up, this may go more smoothly than he’d hoped. 

A chorus of shouts rise up from the Revenge as they close in and the Atonement crew shouts right back. Frenchie is pointing at the ship and pulling at Lucius’ arm and they both look shocked. It takes a moment for Stede to recognize that they’re pointing at him . Are they that surprised that he came back?

They anchor close enough for them to hold a shouted conversation across the water. Lucius is the first to manage anything resembling a cohesive sentence that isn’t just the names of various crew members, swearing, or variations of so fucking glad to see you . “You’re dead!” he shouts at Stede, who jerks his head back slightly in surprise.

He’s not sure if that means they’ve heard about his fake death or if it’s meant to be a threat, but either way he calls back, “Clearly not! Where’s Ed?”

“Cabin! He’s…” Lucius glances at Jim and Frenchie. “You really fucked him up. He might not be happy to see you,” he warns. 

Stede feels the familiar ache in his chest that he gets whenever he thinks about how badly he hurt Ed. “I know, I’ve heard,” he says. “I want to try to fix things.”

Lucius shakes his head. “Whatever they told you isn’t the half of it.”

Stede’s breath stutters. What the hell could that mean?

A brief discussion ensues about who will be going across to the Revenge , with shouted advice from the other ship. Oluwande places himself firmly in the going category, as does Pete after Lucius makes it clear that he is absolutely not willing to wait to be reunited with his boyfriend. After some more discussion, Wee John proclaims that he has to go for Frenchie, since they are roommates, even though they don’t technically have the room anymore. Lucius disappears from the deck to retrieve Ed as they row across. 

Stede volunteers himself to be the last to climb up, wanting the few extra seconds to prepare for what he might see. He can put it off no longer, though, when Wee John disappears over the railing, leaving Stede in the dinghy alone. He takes a deep breath and starts climbing the familiar rope and wood ladder. He still can’t quite tip over the rail with the amount of grace that he’d like to, but he manages to land on his feet. He straightens, patting his clothing, and when he looks up his eyes immediately land on Ed.

He feels like his heart stops. The contrast between this Ed and the last time he saw Ed is immense. He’s still Ed , still achingly beautiful, still intelligent and alive and free. Still everything that Stede never let himself dream about wanting. But at the same time he looks … wrecked . Though he’s clean and put together, there’s an air of someone who had to use all of their willpower just to reach that point. He’s clearly lost weight, not quite as bulky as he’d been when they’d first met. Without his beard - Stede spares a brief moment of thought for his surprise that he’s kept up the shaving; he spares a longer moment of thought for the way his lips had felt without the beard tickling Stede’s face, the softness of his jaw under Stede’s thumb - Stede can see that his cheeks are slightly sunken in. He’s paler than normal, pallid almost like he’s been ill. The worst are his eyes, though, because they look haunted, the way they looked that night he broke down and told Stede the truth about his father’s death. Stede hates the knowledge that he’s the one who put that look in his eyes this time.

He was a fool to think that he could just come back and say he’s sorry and that everything would go back to normal. Until this moment, faced with the reality of what he’d done, a part of him still thought that maybe leaving Ed was the right thing to do. That by coming back he was fucking everything up all over again. But he sees now that he didn’t ruin Ed by staying. He ruined Ed by leaving.

There’s nothing he can say to make this better. No words will ever sufficiently convey his regret and guilt and shame about how he treated Ed. But he has to start somewhere, and all he can find to say right in this moment is, “Ed,” with as much feeling as he can put into it.

The expression on Ed’s face doesn’t change, but his posture does. Though nothing visibly shifts, Ed suddenly seems to diminish in size, folding in on himself. He looks stuck, like he doesn’t know what to do. Stede wonders if Ed wouldn’t take off running if Lucius wasn’t holding his shoulder. 

Finally, Ed seems to gather himself enough to choke out, “ You ,” and Stede suddenly vividly remembers the new mark on his left hip, just a single word. You written in elaborate, curling script. 

But that’s ridiculous, isn’t it? Because they’ve said thousands of things to each other already; this isn’t the first. 

There’s so much contained in that one word, though. Given the rest of his lifetime, he couldn’t parse through all of it. Hurt, definitely. Anguish. Anger. But also happiness and hope. 

It’s those two that Stede holds onto when he tries another step forward, his hands held up, palms out, like he’s approaching a wild animal. Ed stays in place this time, but it looks like he’s ready to bolt any second. Stede has no idea what to say. All these weeks at sea, searching for Ed, he’s been trying to figure out what to say to make this all okay. To apologize and convince Ed to take him back. And he thought the right thing would come to him in the moment. But it hasn’t. He’s got nothing. 

So he decides to just say that. “Ed, I … I know hurt you, and for that I’m sorry.” There’s no sign at all from Ed that he’s listening. Stede glances at Lucius, who shrugs and nods. “And I know … I know there’s nothing I can say to make any of this okay. But I want to try.”

It feels like no one takes a single breath. Stede knows he doesn’t as he waits for Ed to say something. Or do something. It feels like an eternity before Ed finally seems to come back to himself with a few blinks and a small shake of his head. “What…” he manages before he makes a strangled sound that Stede’s never heard from him. It comes out in a few chokes before finally bursting out as full-bodied laughter. 

Stede loves Ed’s laugh normally, but this one is wild, bordering on unhinged. Ed doubles over, clutching his stomach, tears squeezing out of his eyes. The laughter is so strong that he’s gasping for breath. “Jesus,” Lucius mutters, laying his arm across Ed’s back and looking terrified. Stede is terrified, too, but in a way that has him frozen to his spot, unable to move or say anything. He’d imagined a lot of receptions, but insane laughter had never occurred as a possibility. Ed drops to his knees, his body overcome with the heaves of his lungs, and this is what finally spurs Stede to movement. 

He drops down in front of Ed to his own knees, hesitating for only a moment before putting his hand on Ed’s cheek. Ed grabs onto it immediately, squeezing tight. Lucius is muttering something and it’s only when he tosses away Ed’s knife that he realizes it was about avoiding a repeat of that incident, whatever incident that is. 

The laughter doesn’t seem to be dying down. If anything, it’s getting worse. Stede forces Ed’s head up until he meets Stede’s gaze. “Edward, love, I need you to try breathing with me, okay? We’re going to take a long breath in and hold it and then slowly let it out. Can you try?” His eyes still watering, Ed nods. Stede counts down and directs Ed to take a deep breath. He manages a short one before the laughter interrupts and Stede nods. “That’s okay, we’ll try again.” 

It takes several more false starts before the laughter isn’t quite so consuming, though still present. It’s enough for Ed to catch his breath before choking out, “What … the fuck … is happening?”

“It’s just a strong emotional reaction, sweetheart, nothing out—”

“ No ,” Ed bites out. “You can’t be here ,” he says. The laughter is finally nearly completely gone. “You died . Only you’re here, so what the fuck . First Lucius, then your crew, and now…. Fuck, I did actually off myself, didn’t I?” He laughs again, but this time, though it is bitter, it’s a real one, not a compulsive one. 

Stede’s blood chills. “You … you tried—”

Lucius shakes his head at Stede. “ No ,” he says to Ed. “You didn’t. Remember? I found you, and Frenchie stitched you up. No harm done. None of us are dead.”

Stede forces himself past those words echoing in his mind and says, “That’s right. We’re all here. I didn’t actually die. I faked my death so I could come find you. So I could come home.”

Ed’s hand is still tight on Stede’s against his cheek. He reaches his other hand out and for the first time Stede notices what looks like bandages not quite covered up by his glove. His stomach drops again as he wonders how bad things must have been for Ed to actually hurt himself. Then Ed’s hand cups his face and Stede is lost in the feeling of the familiar callouses against his skin, the warmth seeping into him from the small contact. He places his other hand over Ed’s, a mirror of Ed’s own position. 

The contact seems to be enough to convince Ed of Stede’s presence because he lets out a shaky breath, his eyes full of wonder. “You’re alive,” he whispers. “You’re here .”

“I”m here,” Stede confirms gently. 

Ed stares at him for a moment before roughly pulling him into a kiss, their mouths colliding hard. Stede lets out a small sound of surprise before he’s pulling Ed closer, tilting his head to slot their lips together better. This is nothing like the kisses they’ve shared before, most of them soft and sweet and quick. This is raw emotion. This is relief and desperation. An affirmation of life. Stede’s head is quickly going dizzy with the headiness of it. He drags his fingers back through Ed’s hair and without a thought grabs a handful, to which Ed gives an approving noise. 

Distantly, Stede hears Lucius snap, “Um, okay ,” before he retreats and Stede’s arm replaces Lucius’ around Ed’s shoulders. Ed’s hands are cradling Stede’s face, a sharp contrast to the roughness of the kiss. Ed’s sucked Stede’s bottom lip between his own and his teeth are gently nibbling. Stede crowds in closer, slotting one leg between Ed’s own kneeling legs. Honestly he thinks he may actually die just from this sheer bliss. 

Ed’s bites grow sharper though, which Stede doesn’t mind. Until, that is, Ed actually bites and Stede feels a sharp pain. 

-

Ed doesn’t know what to feel. His emotions are tumultuous, springing from one to the next without sense. He doesn’t even know why he kisses Stede. He’s just overcome with the happiness of Stede being alive, and before he knows it he’s mashed their mouths together and Stede’s hand is tugging on his hair. Ed’s working Stede’s lip between his teeth and Stede groans with pleasure, and suddenly Ed’s emotions are swinging toward pissed. Stede can’t just come back like this. They can't pick up where they left off. Not after everything Ed’s gone through. 

He’s not proud of it, but he’s got Stede between his teeth already, so he bites down hard. Hard enough to taste blood in his mouth, and that sends him back to that day, carving his own arm and then lapping up the blood, and it’s all Stede’s fault .

Stede wrenches back with a yelp and touches his lip. His fingers come away bloody. “What the fuck ?” he snaps.  

The fucking audacity of this man. “ You what the fuck,” he snarls back. He pushes Stede away and surges to his feet. “You left .” Ed can feel the energy in the air almost crackling around him with his anger. He can feel the nervousness of the crew as they watch, too.

“What?” Stede looks completely lost and that only makes Ed angrier. 

“I waited for you,” Ed shouts. He’s back on that pier, the wood rough beneath his hands, kicking his legs against the water. The sky is lightening as the sun comes up, chasing away the moon and any hope Ed has left that Stede is coming. “I waited for fucking hours . All night.”

Stede stands up as well, looking bewildered. “You want to have this discussion now ? Here?” 

“When the fuck else? In another month and a half?” He snorts. “Well, maybe that would work best for you. Give you time to leave again.”

“ No ,” Stede shouts. His eyebrows pinch together in anger. “I want to talk about this with you, but I only meant—”

“Why not save us all some time,” Ed says, his voice sharp, “and just go right now. That’s what you do, isn’t it?” He takes vicious pleasure in the stricken look on Stede’s face. “Leave your family to be a pirate, leave pirating to go back to your nice easy rich boy life.”

“Ed—”

He bowls right over Stede’s voice. “And when that stops working out, what else is there to do? Leave again.” He smiles nastily. He wants Stede to fucking bleed , and he knows just where to stab. “Always running away, scared little Baby Bonnet—”

“ Edward .” Stede’s voice is quiet, but the tone is one that cuts right through to Ed’s core and he snaps his mouth shut. Stede looks beyond hurt and Ed immediately regrets using that name. After everything Stede told him about his childhood and the trauma that name still triggers. “I think it’s time we have a conversation in private, don’t you?”

Ed wants to shout fuck that , wants to lay everything out in front of everyone if it will make Stede hurt as much as Ed does. But then Stede smiles that mild-mannered smile, the same one he wore when he reduced a group of French aristocrats to brawling animals. It’s a smile that brokers no arguments, that promises consequences for anyone who defies it. Dangerous , Ed thinks. Despite everything, it sends pleasurable shivers up Ed’s spine. 

Still, he can’t give in that easy. “You’d love that, wouldn’t you? Don’t need to let everyone know all your shameful little secrets that way, right?”

Stede’s smile, if possible, becomes even more mild and somehow more threatening , and Ed feels a thrill run through him. “Actually, since this is about our personal relationship, not our professional one, it seems more appropriate to deal with it ourselves and let the crew enjoy their reunion.” Stede makes a show of glancing around. Most of the crew by now has skulked away in pairs or triples, but remain on deck, seemingly trying to give the illusion of privacy, but probably not wanting to miss anything juicy. “Unless you want to fuck that up for them, too?”

Ed’s automatic response is to bristle with anger. But Stede’s fucking right, isn’t he? It was his choice to leave them for dead, after getting their hopes up about the talent show. He’s the one who separated the couples - all three of them, apparently - to try and snuff out any chance of happiness for anyone else. And now here they all are again, reunited, and they can’t even celebrate properly because their two captains are having a domestic right in the middle of a common space. 

Ed makes a show of rolling his eyes and gestures for Stede to go ahead. “After you, m’lord,” he says with a sarcastic little bow. 

Stede just cocks his head to the side, his eyes running down Ed’s body and then back up in a coldly calculating way. Ed immediately feels like Stede can see inside him, can see every bit of him. “I’ve heard you’ve done some redecorating to the captain’s cabin,” he says blandly. “It’ll be interesting to see the changes you made to my quarters.” With that, he turns and disappears behind the stained glass door. 

Leave it to Stede fucking Bonnet to somehow shame Ed for tossing his things, reinstate himself as captain, effectively kick Ed out of his own room, and seem like he’s taking the high road - to any casual observer at least - all in two fucking sentences. What a devious little shit weasel. Ed loves him so fucking much, and he is so. Fucking. Mad.

He follows Stede into the cabin. Stede has stopped right inside the room and is looking around at the lack of, well, anything . After a moment, Stede continues in the rest of the way and turns around, his arms crossed. Ed plants himself next to the doorway, all the way across the room from Stede. 

The smile is gone, replaced with a flat expression. He looks at Ed expectantly and when Ed doesn’t say anything, he prompts, “Well?”

If he wants an apology for calling him that name, he’s just shit out of luck. Sure, Ed shouldn’t have said that. Feels terrible about it actually. But he’s also still just so mad , and right now mad is winning out over guilt. “Well what ?”

“ Well , go ahead,” Stede says. “Lay it all out there.” He sweeps a hand in front of him like he’s spreading something across a table. “Everything you want to say to me.”

Ed feels thrown slightly off-center by that. He’d expected Stede to come in here and yell about what Ed called him. And then after that Ed could yell at Stede to his heart’s content. “You don’t want to talk about what I just—”

“We will.” Stede shifts his weight. “I hurt you by leaving, so you’re going to talk first. And you hurt me by trying to kill my crew, so then I’m going to talk. And then once we’ve both said our piece and listened to each other, we’ll figure out how to move on from here.” 

It all sounds very reasonable. Very civil. Not at all the screaming match Ed had envisioned, had built himself up for. But, hell, if a screaming match doesn’t just sound so exhausting right now. 

After a moment Stede goes to sit in the chair by the table. All the flatness and distance seems to slough off of him. He’s just lovely, soft Stede again, waiting to be verbally eviscerated. 

All at once, all the wind seems to drop from Ed’s sails. He walks around the table and drags the desk chair over to it, sitting down across from Stede. So much energy spent on being angry and what’s the point? Anger never solves anything. It never solved Da’s problems, just gave him more. Izzy lives off the stuff, and he’s ended up locked up in the brig. And anger just led Ed to the biggest mistakes he’s ever made. It maybe feels strangely satisfying for a while, but all it’s doing is covering up the hurt. 

Ed folds his arms across each other, leaning on the table. To his horror, he already feels his eyes prickling. He forces the tears back, not ready to dissolve into a blubbering mess before telling Stede what he did to Ed. He’s not sure where to start, so he starts at the end. “I … I haven’t been doing well. Since you left.” He rubs his left forearm, the stitches underneath his glove and bandages aching slightly. After a moment of thought, he pulls off the glove, revealing the bandages wrapped from elbow to wrist. Stede’s jaw clenches but he doesn’t say anything. Just lets Ed work it out. “I’ve been hurting myself, and everyone else. I think at first I thought maybe if I take some of my pain out on other people, it would maybe attach itself to them. And I would hurt a little less. Only made things worse, though.” He shakes his head. 

“And Izzy … Izzy fucking messed me up. He’s always been able to push me back to Blackbeard when I get too far from him. He knows just what to say to twist the knife just that little bit deeper and he… The way he fucking knicked me with that knife, over and over again until he’d flayed me open, slow and painful, and I couldn’t fight him anymore. And I was so fucking sick of crying. I needed to be someone who doesn’t cry and doesn’t have a heart to break. And your crew… Lucius. ” Fuck . Stede must not know … none of them know. Ed considers just not telling Stede for a moment. He’s going to be so angry and so upset. But he’ll be more upset if Ed doesn’t tell him and he finds out some other way. Lucius has probably announced it to the entire crew already. Ed forges ahead. “He was too dangerous to keep around. He’s the only one who would have known how to bring me back. So I…” Ed drops his eyes to stare at his hands. He’s gripping his arms so tightly his knuckles are turning white. He’s surely going to have some bruises there tomorrow. “I pushed him off the ship.”

Ed waits for Stede to yell or gasp or hit him, maybe. He waits for some kind of reaction, but it never comes. He looks back up at Stede, expecting repulsion and horror, but Stede, as ever, doesn’t react the way a normal person would. He looks … proud almost? 

“You’re not going to yell at me?” he can’t help asking. “I tried to kill him.”

“You tried to kill almost my entire crew. Adding one more body onto the pile isn’t going to make a difference.” Stede says it so matter-of-factly, like it’s a reasonable stance. Like it isn’t off-the-wall bonkers.

Ed doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to make sense of this man. “Aren’t you mad ?”

“I’m upset, yes,” Stede says with a small nod. “But I’ll talk about that later. Mostly I’m just glad you told me. You wouldn’t have,” he says, leaning in to mirror Ed’s posture, “if you didn’t want this to work.”

Fucking… He is, of course, right. Doesn’t mean Ed has to be happy about it. 

“Sure.” He’s gotten off track. “So, um, anyway.” He’s trying to figure out where best to go from there. “Yeah. So I went a bit off the deep end. Full Blackbeard. For a while. But that got so tiring. And then I heard … I heard you’d died. And I went all the way in the other direction. Complete shutdown. Almost permanent shutdown, only Lucius found me and…” He lifts up his arm. “Yeah.

“I never … I never thought anyone could hurt me like that. But you … then you came along, and you let me be myself for the first time in decades. Maybe ever.” Ed pulls his arms in close to his body, almost in a restrained hug. “I showed you me. I gave you me. You saw me. You saw through Blackbeard to Ed. You’re the first person who ever did.” The tears are back. This time, he can’t stop them from spilling out. They splash down onto his arms, leaving small wet splotches on his shirt. “And when you didn’t come. When you left me there. I waited. Until dawn. Because I thought, ‘He’ll be here. He sees me. He’s coming.’ Six fucking hours I kept telling myself that. And then finally I got it. You did see me. You saw the monster in me. The darkness. And you decided you didn’t want me.”

He wipes his eyes. “But now you’re here . You came back, like you do actually want me. And I just don’t … understand .” He uncrosses his arms finally and places them flat on the table, leaning in. “Why are you here? Why did you leave? What do you want from me?”

Stede looks down, folding his hands together on the table. He seems to be deep in thought, the corners of his mouth turning slightly down. Finally he says, “Ed, to really understand what was going through my head, you have to know something about me. It’s … it’s not a nice thing.”

Ed shrugs. “Well, you’re not really a nice person anyway, so.”

Stede looks up sharply, but he doesn’t look offended. He looks surprised, like he’s been caught out. Like he never expected anyone to look past the mask of cordiality covering up the arsehole underneath. “No, I’m not,” he agrees. He looks down again and sighs. “The truth is I’m … I’m poison. I’m a plague. I … defile beautiful things.” Stede stares down at his hands, but he looks like he’s not really seeing them. He looks far away, like he’s listening to someone else tell him that. Ed wants to find whoever made Stede think about himself that way and gut them. Poison . He gave Ed his life back, not took it away. “I always … suspected that about me, but it was only when it was blatantly pointed out to me that I couldn’t deny it anymore. 

“I was already tearing myself apart over you. You … giving up everything because of me . Everything you worked for and built. Your entire life. So when Badminton—”

“Badminton?” Ed can’t help interrupting. “What the fuck does that limp dick have to do with anything?”

“Oh, he…” Stede shakes his head dismissively. “He—it doesn’t really matter. He tried to kill me. But that’s—”

“ What ?” Ed snaps, wracking his brain to try to figure out when that might have happened. “When?”

Stede sits back and glances to the side, looking like he really didn’t want this to come up. “That night. He got to me before your man did. He marched me out to the woods. He had a gun. He told me that I ruined you, among several other things. And then he was going to shoot me, but he tripped and shot himself in the face instead.”

Fuck. “Stede.” He’d had no idea. That fucking prick . Ed feels a vicious sense of pleasure that he offed himself like that. He only wishes he could have seen it.

“The point is,” Stede continues, looking back at Ed, “that he was right . Or I thought he was. You’d already given up everything for me . And there I was, about to take even more, and I … I really, truly thought that the best thing I could do for you was disappear. Just let you get back to your life. And in the process, if I went back to my family, I could maybe fix something else I’d fucked up, too. I never…” He reaches forward, hesitantly touching his fingers to the back of Ed’s hand. “I had no idea leaving like that would hurt you so badly. I really thought you would just go back to your old life and you’d forget about me.”

Ed draws his hand up, the one that Stede isn’t touching, and rubs his face. “Stede, you… You didn’t make me do anything I didn’t want to do. Everything I gave up … it was my choice. I was ready to hang it up anyway. You just made it so much easier.” Slowly, Ed flips his hand over. He doesn’t take Stede’s fingers in his hand, not yet. Just lets his own fingers curl up gently against Stede’s. “I think I get it though,” he says thoughtfully. “You left for the same reason I thought you’d changed your mind. We both think we’re pieces of shit that no one should want to be around. And it makes us do stupid shit and we fuck ourselves over and it just confirms what we already thought.”

Stede nods. “Self-sabotage,” he says.

“Yeah, that.” Ed repeats it, more to himself than to Stede, “Self-sabotage.”

“You’re not a piece of shit, Ed.” Stede curls his fingers more solidly against Ed’s. “Or if you are, you’re the prettiest piece of shit I’ve ever seen,” he says, completely seriously.

Ed snorts, breaking through the solemn atmosphere. Stede cracks a smile and Ed’s stomach flips. It’s not the cold smile of before, which Ed is very into, but soft and real and warm and it’s such a good smile. Ed can’t help smiling back. “Not possible,” he says, “because you’re the prettiest piece of shit in the entire world. So.”

They dissolve into giggles. Ed spares a moment to panic that he’s going to be stuck laughing again, but these feel different. They feel genuine. He’d forgotten how good it feels to laugh, and to have somebody there laughing with you. He feels light. Lighter than he’s felt in weeks. Lighter than he’d felt even that morning.

Before he’s aware of what he’s doing, he’s crawling onto the table, swinging his legs around to dangle on Stede’s side. His brain catches up with his body long enough for him to wonder if this is really the best thing to be doing right now, but fucking… The last two months have been so bad, and he’d waited so long before that, too. They still have a lot to work through, but that doesn’t mean they can’t also have fun together in between working through it. Or else what is it all for?

With his feet, he pulls Stede’s chair in closer. Stede’s been watching this all bemusedly, but as he’s jolted forward it seems to shake him into action. He wraps his arms around Ed’s neck to haul him down into a rough kiss. He makes an initial noise of pain as their lips press together and Ed suddenly remembers the bite he’d given Stede earlier. He pulls away enough to say, “Your lip—”

“It’s fine,” Stede says, and as if to prove his point, he presses back in even harder. 

He sucks and nips and teases, and it’s all completely unexpected. Ed can only hang on, try to keep up, and wonder where the fuck Stede learned all this from. He feels like he’s being ravished, and they haven’t even taken off their shirts yet. When Stede momentarily drifts down to suck at Ed’s jaw, Ed gasps out, “ Fucking tits, Stede. You been practicing on someone? Should I be jealous?”

He feels Stede smile against his jaw. “Definitely not.” He nips his way down Ed’s jaw, explaining in between bites. “Saw Mary having sex with her boyfriend one night. I was horrified, of course. But also intrigued.” He pauses to suck at the corner of Ed’s jaw, right near his ear. Ed makes a strangled sort of noise, clinging to Stede’s shirt. “It was nothing like what we’d done. They both seemed to be enjoying it, for one. And there was quite a lot of kissing going on.” He pulls back slightly and Ed feels suddenly bereft. “I may have observed for a short while. For academic purposes.” 

Ed grins. “Stede, you fiend! The scandal,” he chides playfully.

“They’re the scandal!” Stede argues. “Having an illicit affair right there in our barn, where anyone with a ladder could see what was going on.”

Still smiling, Ed bends back down, capturing Stede’s lips again, softer this time. He coaxes Stede’s mouth open and slips his tongue inside, drawing out a surprised sound from Stede. He tastes so fucking good, like he drank a gallon of tea before boarding the Revenge . Ed can’t get enough. He circles Stede’s tongue slowly and Stede shudders. 

Ed’s never kissed anyone like this. Everything that’s come before has been quick and rough, most of the time without any kissing at all. It was about getting off, quick as possible so that you could get back to watch or because other people were around. This isn’t that. This is connection. Intimacy beyond the physical. It’s worship. Ed’s never been one for religion, but if this is divinity he’ll kneel at the altar every day. 

Stede is tugging him closer, one hand fisted in Ed’s shirt and the other cupping his neck. If Ed bends down any further, he’ll fall right off the table. He’s already a little taller than Stede, and the added height doesn’t help things. Separating for just a moment, though even that feels too long, Ed hops down and straddles Stede, settling himself on Stede’s lap. 

Stede looks up at him with hazy eyes. “Oh, hello,” he says, smiling dopily.

“Hi,” Ed breathes. He dives back in, nipping Stede’s upper lip this time.

Stede gasps, his eyes fluttering. “Are you going to bite me again?” he asks, his lips curling into a half-smile.

Ed moves down to Stede’s jaw, dragging his teeth along his jawline. “Do you want me to?” he murmurs, his lips ghosting against Stede’s skin. 

Stede’s voice is hoarse when he answers, “Y- yes .” His fingers work their way into Ed’s hair. “Maybe no blood this time though,” he clarifies.

Ed glides his mouth down to Stede’s neck. Stede’s scent is thick here and he feels his head start to spin. There’s no flowers covering him up anymore. It’s all Stede. He smells like salt and sweat and musk. Like ocean spray and a deep earthy smell that Ed always thought was part of Stede’s perfume. It’s utterly intoxicating. 

He licks just above the spot where Stede’s neck and chest meet and blows on it lightly, eliciting another shiver from Stede. He drops a kiss there before opening his mouth and latching on with his teeth. Stede makes an encouraging sound and curls his fingers against Ed’s head, lightly scratching, and it’s Ed’s turn to shiver. He sucks at Stede’s skin and runs his tongue across it before biting down again. 

“Harder,” Stede urges, tilting his head to the side to give Ed better access. “Mark me.”

“ Christ , Stede,” Ed moans. He thinks of a bruise on Stede’s neck, hidden under a cravat or a scarf, maybe, for Ed’s eyes only. Or he imagines Stede like this, billowy shirt showing so much neck and chest, Ed’s bruise shining darkly on Stede’s pale skin for everyone to see.

“Please,” Stede says, turning his face in and pressing a kiss just below Ed’s earlobe. “I want everyone to see that I’m yours. I want to show you.”

“ Fuck .” Ed licks at the same spot again. He nips a few times before finally, really biting . Stede jerks beneath him, making a noise somewhere between pain and pleasure. He grabs a fistful of Ed’s hair and tugs , the same way he did earlier, and Ed groans, the sound swallowed by Stede’s skin. He detaches from Stede, letting himself be yanked back. 

Stede lets go immediately, looking dazed but concerned. “Too hard?” he asks, brushing through Ed’s thick curls. 

“ No ,” Ed says adamantly. “I fucking love that.” He drops his eyes to Stede’s neck, where there are still teeth marks and a bruise already blooming. “What about you?” he asks, rubbing his thumb gently over it. 

“Perfect,” he says. He draws Ed in for one last, lingering kiss before pulling back. “I think we’d better stop though.” Ed immediately panics. Did he do something wrong ? Did he ruin this whole tenuous thing? Stede must be able to tell because he quickly says, “I loved it. All of it. It was amazing.” He tucks Ed’s hair behind his ear and cups his hand on Ed’s cheek. “We just still have a lot to talk about and I think … I think before anything progresses too much, we should work through it. I want us to be on the same page. No lingering questions or doubts. Just us.” His thumb rubs against Ed’s cheekbone. “Is that okay?”

To say Ed isn’t disappointed would be a lie, but Stede’s probably right. He is about most things. As much as Ed wants to just rip off Stede’s clothes, he wants this for the long haul even more. And a quickie’s no good for that if they don’t address the underlying problems. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” 

Without all the kissing clouding his mind, he realizes his legs are starting to go slightly numb. He can only imagine how Stede’s are doing, with Ed sitting on them. He gets up and stretches, bending out his legs. He can’t even be embarrassed about the way his breeches are tenting out because Stede has the same situation going on. He grins and holds out his hand to pull Stede up.

“I haven’t forgiven you yet,” Ed warns as Stede clasps his hand and is hauled up out of the chair.

Stede shakes his legs out slightly. “I know. And I haven’t even started on the whole trying to kill my crew thing.”

“I know.” Stede’s right. They still have a lot to work through before they’re solid. “Can we still make out though?” he asks suddenly, wondering just how far the moratorium on physical intimacy extends. 

“God, yes,” Stede responds immediately and then colors. “I mean…” He shakes his head, smiling. “Fuck, yeah. Of course. If you want.”

“I want.” Ed looks down at the darkening patch of skin on Stede’s neck. “I want a lot.”

Chapter Text

The next day after breakfast it’s Stede’s turn to talk. They’ve checked in on the crew, who appear happy to see they haven’t killed each other. They’ve fully reintegrated as well, spread across the two ships now anchored together. Even Ed’s new people have been brought into the fold, swapping stories. Ed and Stede leave them to it. 

Back in the cabin, they settle back at the table across from each other again. Stede lets out a soft exhale. There’s not really a delicate way to start this, is there? “So,” he says. Ed’s watching him warily. “You kidnapped two of my people and tried to kill the rest,” he says bluntly. Ed winces and glances away. “They’re all still pretty mad about the whole thing. And I don’t have to tell you that Pete is furious about what you did to Lucius, although Lucius has been able to calm him about it somewhat.”

Ed looks down at his hands folded in his lap. “No. That’s all understandable.” He glances up uncertainly. “And what about you?”

Stede sighs, sitting back in the chair. What about him? Stede understands why Ed did it, even better now that Ed explained a bit more about the headspace he was in at the time. That doesn’t make it okay, but it seems like Ed knows that and, more importantly, is taking responsibility for it. Telling Ed how upset he was and how wrong it will only make him feel worse about it, and it’s clear he already feels terrible. “That depends,” Stede answers.

Ed shifts in his seat. “On?”

“On how you plan to make amends.” 

“Oh.” Ed deflates slightly. “What if … what if I can’t?” he asks, his voice sounding small. “What if they all just hate me forever?”

Stede feels a pang in his chest. He wants to tell Ed that there’s no way anyone could hate him forever. That the crew will forgive him if he just apologizes and gives them time. But he can’t do that. He’d promised the crew that after they caught up with Ed, they were free to stay or leave if they wanted, and he plans to keep that promise. And he doesn’t want to suppress their feelings if they’re angry or afraid. 

“Then they hate you,” Stede says gently. Ed whips his head up to look at Stede, shocked. “I’m not going to force them to forgive someone who hurt them. You can’t undo what you did, just like I can’t undo the hurt I did to you, even though I wish I could more than anything.” Stede lays a hand on the table between them. “For the record, I don’t think they’ll hate you. They’re a good lot. If you sincerely apologize and really try to make it up to them, I don’t think there’s a single one of my people who wouldn’t forgive you. Maybe not right away, but eventually. And,” Stede says, leaning in, “I’ll forgive you.”

Ed gives Stede a small smile, but it disappears quickly. “I … I don’t know how to do this,” he admits quietly. “Making amends and all that.”

“An apology is usually a good place to start,” Stede says. “And I can help you.”

“You will?” Ed asks hopefully. 

“Of course I will,” Stede says and Ed lights up. His face is wonderfully expressive without the beard. Stede can read almost every emotion that flickers across it.

“Okay. Then…” Ed scoots forward a little, bringing his hands up to rest on the tabletop. “Then I want to do it today. Or at least start today.”

Stede smiles as he looks at Ed, eager and earnest and hopeful. He stands by what he said. If Ed can show his crew this, they’re sure to forgive him. “We’d better get started then.”

-

That afternoon Stede calls the crew together on deck for a talk. He and Ed had decided that Stede should talk to them first before cueing Ed to come out to deliver his apology. Everyone gathers reluctantly around him, reclaiming their usual spots on the Revenge , save Fang, who’s manning the Atonement and Ivan manning the Revenge . Even Ed’s new crew have gathered, looking curious. 

Stede takes a moment to look over everyone back together once more. They all look better than they have in weeks, and not just physically. There’s something about being back amongst your people, back home, that lifts your spirits and it’s what Stede sees in front of him. His crew, against all odds, has become something of a family, a group of people who look out for and support each other. It fills him with warmth to see them all happily reunited. 

“First,” he starts, “I want to thank you all once again for everything you’ve done this past month. I know it hasn’t been easy and many of you weren’t pleased with the idea of tracking down a man who tried to kill you. But you all also showed wonderful loyalty to myself and to Jim, Frenchie, and Lucius in deciding to join me in finding them.” Stede turns his attention to those three, sitting scattered about with their partners. “And I think I speak for everyone when I say that we’re all so glad to have you three back among us.” A flurry of movement ripples across the group as everyone tries to reach some portion of their missing three to give a playful shove, a shoulder pat, or a slap on the back.

“And, of course, we have some new faces amongst us who are welcome to join our crew if they’d like, or can choose to move on to greener pastures, as it may be.” Stede picks out the four new figures, standing together in the back. “Ribs, Bony Joe, Helena, and Crooked Pete, not to be confused with our own Black Pete of course, I look forward to learning more about all of you if you stay, and if not I wish you the best.

“But now, on to the business at hand.” Stede runs his eyes over everyone once more. They all look expectant, like they know what they’ve been gathered for. “A lot has happened over the last few months. You have all faced some very difficult times and come out the other side and I commend you all for your perseverance. I made a promise when we set off to find the Revenge . Once we had found our ship and located our missing crew members, you would be free to decide whether to stay on as crew or leave. That promise still stands and extends to any of you. But.” Stede pauses. He’d planned out what he was going to say, but now it feels too stiff and impersonal. “But … I would love it if every one of you stayed. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but I’ve come to think of all of you as family.”

He takes a deep breath, clasping his hands in front of him. “I know many of you have concerns about remaining on a ship with Captain Teach and First Mate Hands. At the moment, Mr. Hands is in the brig where he will stay until we … well, until we figure out what to do with him.”

“Toss him overboard, I say,” Frenchie calls. Several others shout in agreement. “Pretty sure that bastard’s the main reason everything went so shit.”

Stede holds up his hands. “There’s a lot of blame to go around to several parties, myself included. We’re hoping to deal with him as bloodlessly as possible.”

“No blood in tossing someone overboard,” Lucius says, tucked under Pete’s arm. “I would know.”

Stede just barely keeps himself from rolling his eyes. “Yes, Lucius, but I’m fairly certain you know what I meant. We’d prefer to keep him alive.” Surprisingly, a hand goes up. “Yes, Roach?”

“Captain, when you say ‘we’ you’re not meaning us,” he says, pointing around to the group assembled. “You mean you and Blackbeard.” There’s an uneasy ripple among several of the marooned crew.

“Yes, Roach, that’s correct.” Now that they’re getting into the meat of the discussion, Stede feels rather awkward standing in front of everyone. He hops up to sit on a nearby barrel, crossing his legs. “Over the last day, Captain Teach and I have talked through a lot. There’s still a lot we need to discuss personally, but as far as his role on this ship, we’ve decided the only fair thing to do is to hold a vote and let you all decide. Not today, of course, to give you time to think about your decisions. Olu?”

Oluwande lowers his hand. “A vote to decide whether he stays a captain?”

Stede grimaces. “Ah, no,” he says. He’s not sure how the crew will react to this, so he braces himself for any possibility. “A vote to decide if he stays on the ship or leaves.”

Stunned faces look back at him for a few moments before several discussions break out all at once. In the back of the group, Ribs has coaxed Roach into telling her and the other newbies what exactly went on that led to all this. Lucius stands, dragging Pete along with him, to talk to Jim and Olu. Frenchie joins them moments later and they all fall into a whispered, heated discussion. Buttons seems to be having a sorrowful discussion with Karl and another seagull Stede doesn’t think he’s seen before. Wee John and the Swede have huddled together in such a way that Stede can’t see their faces to try and guess what they’re talking about. 

Stede feels a light hand on his shoulder. He looks up to see that Ed has sidled out of the cabin and is standing behind him. He’s watching the discussions with a stiff tension in his jaw that Stede aches to reach up and soothe. “They’re going to vote for me to leave,” Ed says quietly. 

“You don’t know that,” Stede answers, trying to sound like there isn’t even a question about it. He really does think that the crew will eventually turn their favor back to Ed. But … eventually . They can’t wait forever for it. “I’m certain Lucius, Frenchie, and Jim will vote for you to stay, and probably Oluwande by extension. Pete may be a tougher cookie, but if I know Lucius he’ll have some words for him - or, uh, other things - to convince him to vote in your favor. And you haven’t even apologized yet. After that, who knows?” Stede smiles optimistically, but Ed still looks worried.

Around them, the discussions have begun to die out. Stede waits until all eyes are back on him, with concerned glances being thrown at Ed standing behind him, to continue. “We’ll vote in one week’s time. Are there any questions about it?” Several hands go up. “Pete?”

“So, who all gets a vote? Just the people he tried to kill or what?” Ed’s hand momentarily tightens on Stede’s shoulder. Lucius jabs Pete in the ribs. “Ow! What? Just asking,” he says, rubbing his side with a frown.

“You could phrase it a little better, babe ,” Lucius says, sounding annoyed. 

Pete crosses his arms. “Well, it’s the truth, isn’t it?”

Stede holds up his hand. “All right. No need to mince words here, Lucius. Ed isn’t denying what he’s done.” Everyone’s eyes flick to Ed for a moment, various expressions ranging from doubt and disbelief to resignation to approval. “But to answer your question, Pete, everyone who plans to stay on the ship will have a vote. Myself and Ed excluded, of course. Yes, Roach?”

Roach glances around the crew, seemingly taking stock of how everyone may be leaning. “How are the votes counted? Like, will it have to be unanimous for him to leave or, like, two-thirds?”

“Just a straightforward majority rules vote,” Stede answers. There’s a small noise of disdain from the right side of the group. “Something to say, Wee John?”

John scowls. “No way you’re going to kick him off your ship, no matter what we vote,” he says, sounding somewhat hostile. “Not after chasing him down like that.” Roach nods and the Swede looks like he’s inclined to agree. 

Stede frowns. Do they really think he would just overrule them like that? “I can assure you, whatever the group decides will be what happens.”

“You’re just assuming we’re all gonna vote how you want,” Roach pipes in. “You’re gonna, what? Buy our votes?”

“No,” Stede says. To his surprise, he’s echoed by another voice. 

Everyone turns to look at Lucius. “No,” he says again thoughtfully. “He’ll do what we vote.” Lucius’ expression turns somber. “Because if we vote for Ed to leave, Stede will leave with him.”

“What, for real?” Frenchie asks, followed by Pete’s quiet, “Captain?”

Stede sighs. He really didn’t want to tell them that bit. He’d hoped to let them decide on their own, without incentives or repercussions. “Yes,” he says reluctantly. “If you vote to have Ed leave the ship, I’ll be going as well. I’ll leave the Revenge in your more than capable hands, Olu, if the crew agrees.”

A long silence follows in which everyone seems to have gone still as a statue, broken only by Oluwande’s groan. “No,” he mutters to Jim. “Why does everyone keep trying to make me captain?” Jim just grins and playfully pats his face.

“Any other questions?” Stede finally asks. After a moment, he continues, “Okay. The vote will be in one week. Feel free to ask any other questions you have and talk about your decisions amongst yourselves.” The crew begins to disassemble and Stede calls out, “But before you’re dismissed,” and everyone settles back in with a groan, “one more order of business. Ed?”

Stede looks up as Ed steps forward. He looks more nervous than Stede thinks he’s ever seen him, his brow crinkled, mouth turned down in a frown, his hands shaking. Ed still has one hand on Stede’s shoulder, so Stede gently takes it in his own hand, giving it a soft squeeze. Ed gives him a grateful smile. 

He takes a deep breath, holds it, and then releases it before starting. “About what I did,” he says, his voice trembling slightly. He looks down at the ground. “Marooning you lot and taking Jim and Frenchie. And … and Lucius.” Ed risks a glance up and Stede sees Lucius give him an encouraging smile. “‘M not great at apologies, but … what I did was … wrong.” Stede gives his hand another squeeze. They’d talked about how in-depth Ed had wanted to go in his apology and decided on brief, but transparent. “I was hurt and angry at Stede.” He tucks some of his hair behind his ear nervously. “Only Stede wasn’t there for me to be angry at, so I took it out on you lot. Shouldn’t have done that.” He scuffs his shoe on the boards of the deck. “And I’m sorry. I’m trying to be better at dealing with … with emotions and shit. And I’d really like to stay, if you’ll all have me, but if not, I get it. I … I fucked up pretty bad.” He releases a long breath. “If there’s anything I can do to make it up to you all, just tell me and I’ll do it.” He ducks his head down, his hair falling around him in a curtain. “Anyway, that’s all I wanted to say.”

Ed steps back and Stede gives his hand one more squeeze. Looking across at the crew, most of their faces are at best neutral, several of them uncertain. The only people really giving any kind of positive response are the three who had spent the last few months on his ship. Lucius, in fact, calls out, “No hard feelings here, Ed,” which Stede is heartwarmed to hear. Especially since Lucius is the only one Ed had actually hands-on tried to kill. 

“Well,” Stede calls, “on that note, unless there are any other questions, you’re all dismissed.”

-

Back in the cabin, Stede has settled back in his chair at the table. Ed had paused on his way into the room, hesitating by the table, before diverting to the old library area. Stede watches as Ed carefully climbs into the pile of blankets and pillows there, wrapping himself up. Stede had been wondering about the twisted mess lying over there, but now that Ed is plonked down in the middle of it, it makes sense. It’s a safe, comfortable space for him to be surrounded by soft things and deal with his feelings. He remembers telling Ed about the spaces he would build for himself when he was little, blanket forts and little hideaways in his closet and the space under his mother’s desk he would crawl under with pillows and a book. 

After a moment, he stands, approaching Ed slowly, like he’s a wild animal that may bolt if Stede comes in too fast. “You can say no,” he starts, “but can I join you?” Ed looks up at him from where his gaze had been fixed on the purple pillow in his lap. After a moment, he wordlessly lifts the blanket from around his shoulders in invitation. Stede smiles and settles into Ed’s side. “Oh, it’s very cushy,” he says in surprise, wiggling a bit on the bouncy material. He frowns. “Are these the couch cushions?”

Ed smiles ruefully. “Yeah. I hid them in your auxiliary closet before I had the crew purge everything.”

Stede hums thoughtfully. “Well, good thing you did. It’s quite comfortable.” Stede sits back with a sigh, his arm bumping against Ed’s. After a stretch of silence, Stede says, “You did very well, you know.”

Ed looks back down at the pillow. “You think?”

“I do.” 

Ed drops his head to Stede’s shoulder with a sigh. “I … I don’t really know how to do this,” he says. 

“I don’t either,” Stede admits. He hesitantly reaches out, waiting for Ed to pull back if he wants, and pushes Ed’s hair back from his face. 

Ed turns his head slightly, tilting up to look at Stede. “You…” Stede can read every bit of hesitation and fear and confusion that crosses Ed’s face in that moment. “Stede, why did you come back?”

Stede’s hand pauses its brush through of Ed’s hair. His stomach twists into a nervous knot. He knows that Ed feels something for him. Maybe even loves him. Even after all of this. But that doesn’t stop his brain from telling him that no one will ever love him, that no one could ever love him, that he’s undeserving of love, and that telling Ed all of this is a waste of time. “We don’t have to talk about this right now, if you don’t want,” Stede offers.

There’s a soft touch on his knee and Stede looks down to see Ed’s hand resting lightly there. “I … I have to know. I can’t take not knowing.”

Stede sucks in a breath. “Okay.” He resumes stroking Ed’s hair as he starts. He tells Ed all of it. How it felt wrong the moment he stepped into the house. Mary’s horror at his return. The way he proceeded to systematically fuck up every bit of the life she’d been building for herself. Alma’s anger and Louis not even remembering him. How the entire time, Stede couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d just made the biggest mistake of his life. 

“I was miserable. Mary and the children were miserable. I thought that I could handle that, being miserable, if it meant that you were out there, free and doing what you wanted and happy, instead of stuck with me. But I…” He chuckles. “I am a selfish man, Ed. I didn’t really care that I was fucking things up for Mary. If that was all, if that was the only thing wrong and I was happy, I could have stayed. But I couldn’t bear to feel miserable like that again. When I left, I thought that going back would fix some of the guilt, and it did a little. But in its place was such a deep sadness and longing for … for home. For the sea.” He looks down at Ed’s wide eyes, his stomach heavy with nerves. Still, he can’t put this off any longer. “Mostly for you. I came back because I love you, Ed, and I couldn’t bear to be parted from you, even if coming back to you would ruin you. I came back because I’m selfish and wanted to be with you. Want to be with you.”

Ed’s eyes are wide. He lifts his head from Stede’s shoulder and moves a bit so that he’s somewhat facing Stede. “You love me,” he says blankly. 

Stede takes Ed’s hand and lifts it to his mouth, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Very much,” he says, cradling Ed’s hand between his.

“I…” Ed looks like he wants nothing more than to fall into Stede’s arms, but there’s an edge of fear in his eyes as well. “How do I know you won’t leave again? I can’t … I won’t be able to take it if you do.”

Stede’s chest twists painfully. “Oh, Ed.” He pulls Ed forward into an embrace. “I know I don’t deserve your trust, not after everything that’s happened. But I hope I can earn it back someday. In the meantime, all I can say is I have no intention of leaving you ever again. All I can do is show you that every day. I am … so sorry, my dearest.”

After a few moments, Stede feels Ed’s arms slowly encircle him. His shoulders are shaking as he lets out choked sobs. Stede drops kisses onto the top of his head and rubs his back, murmuring soothing nothings. Eventually the sobs stop and Ed pulls back. His eyes are rimmed with red and he looks exhausted. Stede lifts his hand and gently wipes away the drying trails of tears on his cheeks. “There now,” he says with a small smile. 

Ed gives him a trembling smile in return. “Think I ruined your shirt,” he says hoarsely.

“I see how it is,” Stede says with a playful smile. “Payback for ruining your jacket with my own tears all that time ago.”

Ed huffs out a breathless laugh. “God, I … I missed you so fucking much.”

Stede feels his smile widen, his eyes prickling at the same time. “I missed you, too.”

Ed watches him for a long moment, his expression warring between hope and fear. He sways forward slightly and Stede licks his lips, his eyes flicking down to Ed’s. But just as quickly Ed pulls back, fear apparently winning out. His voice, when he talks, is firm but frail. “I meant it before, Stede,” he says earnestly. “If you leave again, I … I really don’t think I’ll survive it.”

Coldness washes over him and he remembers yesterday, what Ed had implied. “Yesterday, you said something.” Stede shuffles a little closer until their knees are bumping. “That you’d heard I was dead, and if I was here it must mean that you … that you were too.” Ed ducks down, his hair falling in front of his face in sheets. “But it sounded like … like you had tried to…”

Ed blows out a soft breath, causing a few strands of hair to blow with the gentle breeze. “It was an accident,” he says quietly. “I really didn’t mean to.” He’s shifting slightly and it takes a moment for Stede to realize that Ed’s working off his glove. “I used to do it when I was a kid, when things were bad at home. I … I don’t really know why. It was just the one thing I felt like I could control, you know?”

Ed looks up as his glove comes off, revealing the layer of bandages underneath that have been haunting Stede. All at once, Stede realizes what he means. Stede had never done it, but there were boys who had, at school. He would go into the bathroom sometimes and find bloody tissues in the bin. They were minor cuts, though, Stede knew, usually relegated to a small area of the forearm. Ed’s bandages, however, reach from his wrist almost all the way to his elbow. Just how far had he cut ?

Ed begins unwrapping his arm. “When I heard you were dead, I … I really lost it. Locked myself up in here for … fuck knows how long. Didn’t even realize I was doing it at first, just came to with my knife in my hand and a cut on my arm. And then something took over and I just…” He fades off as the last of the bandages falls away. He looks down at his arm for a moment, an unreadable expression in his eyes.

Stede waits. Lets Ed work through this on his own. Gives him the freedom to show Stede when - if - he wants to. Finally Ed holds out his arm and Stede carefully curls his fingers around Ed’s wrist. He turns slightly to see it without having to pull Ed’s arm into a weird angle. He’s pretty sure his heart stops.

His name. His name is carved into Ed’s skin. Not tattooed, but actually carved .

Fuck .

Oh god .

He must make some kind of noise because Ed’s hand is suddenly rubbing his back comfortingly. 

It must have been deep. Stede can see the pinpricks where Frenchie must have stitched him up. The cuts themselves are healing fine, Stede can see. They’re fading into pink lines. But it’s obvious that this will scar. That this will be on Ed for the rest of his life.

God. He’s—

Stede lurches to his feet, stumbling to the table. There’s a basin there that Stede had washed up in this morning. He pulls it to him clumsily, some of the leftover water inside splashing out. He’s faintly aware of Ed calling his name, approaching him from behind, but all he can think about is Ed bent over his arm, knife edge digging into his skin. Stede’s stomach heaves and he gags, leaning over the basin. He feels Ed’s hand on his back again, rubbing gentle circles. He pictures blood running down Ed’s arm, Ed passing out from the blood loss, Ed lying in this room, alone, dying. This time when he gags his breakfast vacates from his stomach. Tears are dripping from his eyes, and not just from the act of vomiting. His stomach contracts again and again, until there’s nothing left but bile coming up.

Finally the nausea passes. His hands are shaking where they’re propping him up on the table. No, his entire body is shaking actually. He feels raw and wrung out. Ed’s hand is still on his back, rubbing softly. He slowly guides Stede to sit down and Stede does numbly. “I’m going to take care of this, okay?” Ed says, gesturing to the basin, and Stede just nods slowly. Ed takes it and carries it out of the cabin, most likely to dump it off the ship.

Stede can’t stop picturing it. The pink letters stark against the copper tones of Ed’s skin. Cutting through his tattoos. Covered in blood. Lucius had said he’d found Ed, but what if he hadn’t? Or what if he’d found Ed too late? He could have made it all the way back here, only to find Ed gone by his own hand. All because of Stede.

There’s a hand on his shoulder and he looks up to see Ed kneeling in front of him. “Okay?” he asks and Stede sputters out a laugh. 

“Okay?” he repeats. “ No , you … you nearly died , because of me . If Lucius hadn’t found you, you…”

“He did though,” Ed reminds him. “He took care of the whole thing.”

“But if he hadn’t ,” Stede insists, tears rolling down his cheeks. He collapses forward, his hands landing on Ed’s shoulders, his forehead tucking into Ed’s neck. He can’t get rid of the image of Ed lying in bed or slumped over the table or on the floor, blood slowly draining out of him as no one comes. “You… I’m a monster . You shouldn’t … how could you ever forgive me for that?”

Ed’s hand brushes through Stede’s hair. “I do.”

“You… No .” He doesn’t mean that. He can’t mean that. “You should … should send me away, or just get rid of me entirely. Just … slit my throat right now.” 

“ No . Don’t—”

Stede chokes out something between a sob and a laugh. “God, Chauncey was right. Even … even when I try to do something right, I just turn it all to shit.”

Ed’s hand is on Stede’s back again, rubbing those little circles. “Stede, no—”

“ Yes ,” he says adamantly. “I fucked everything up when I left, and faking my death was supposed to fix everything, but it just hurt you more . I—”

“ Stede !” With a hand on Stede’s cheek, Ed pushes him back to look at him. Stede can’t meet his eyes though. He drops his gaze to the ground. He shouldn’t even be allowed to be near Ed. He should be weighted down and tossed overboard. “Look at me,” Ed orders and after a moment of hesitation, Stede does. Ed’s face is earnest, insistent. “All of that stuff, yeah. I was hurt. But I did that stuff. You didn’t make me.”

“But you wouldn’t have done it if I—”

“There’s a lot of other shit that was going on at the time, mate,” Ed says. “Who can say what we would or wouldn’t do under different circumstances? I did it. My knife, my hand, my arm. My own fucked up brain.” Stede shakes his head and tries to look away again, but Ed moves his other hand to Stede’s face as well. “Hey. Unless you were off doing some weird witchy shit, you didn’t force me to do anything. You hurt me. That’s it. And I forgive you.”

A fresh wave of tears spring up. “Ed, you can’t—”

“Too bad.” Ed leans in to place a kiss on Stede’s forehead. “‘Cause I do.”

Stede feels everything inside him crumple. “Edward.” He reaches out and Ed pulls him into a hug. It’s reminiscent of that night in the early days, when Stede told Ed about his childhood and cried into his shoulder. This time, though, his sobs are loud and wrack his entire body. This is so much more than he deserves. But, fuck, he really is a selfish bastard because he’s going to take it, even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it. This, and anything else that Ed wants to give, he’ll take and keep and hoard in his chest. 

He shifts forward until he’s slipping off the chair, planting himself in Ed’s lap. Ed gathers Stede to him, wrapping around him like a blanket. Ed whispers a litany of I’ve got you s and It’s all right s into Stede’s curls. Eventually Stede’s tears dry and he’s left shaking in Ed’s arms. He feels Ed’s lips on the top of his head, a short succession of kisses. Stede feels like he’s been emptied out, but not in a bad way. Like everything he’s been holding in for so long has finally spilled over and out and now there’s room for new things. But he also feels exhausted. He tries to stifle a yawn, but it comes anyway, caught in Ed’s shoulder.

“Bed, I think,” Ed says, lifting his head from Stede’s. 

Stede shakes his head. “It’s barely evening.”

Ed shrugs. “So? We’re anchored, crew’s doing whatever it is the crew does when we’re not there. We’re both exhausted. And we’re the captains here, aren’t we? We sleep when we want to sleep.”

Stede is so tired that he just hums out a reluctant agreement. He lets Ed untangle them and draw him to his feet. Ed leads him to the bed where he pauses just for a moment to slip off Stede’s jacket and his own boots and knee brace. Ed gets into bed first and holds up the covers for Stede. After a pause Stede follows, climbing in and snuggling against Ed’s chest. He drapes himself over Ed, in just the way Ed teased Stede about all those months ago, his own chest half on Ed’s, his head pillowed on Ed’s chest. His arm is thrown across Ed’s body and one of his legs tangles with Ed’s. 

He can already feel himself drifting as Ed draws his fingers up and down Stede’s arm. But before he can let himself fade, he has to be sure. “You really forgive me?” he asks uncertainly. 

“Yes.”

“ Why ?”

Ed lets out a considering sigh. “Because I understand why now. And I’m sick of hurting. I want to move on.” His hand on Stede’s arm is drawing out shivers. “And because I…”

The unfinished sentence seems to hang heavy in the air in between them. Ed’s body is tense and when Stede lifts up on his elbow to look at him, he looks frustrated. His eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw clenched tightly. Stede thinks he gets exactly how Ed feels, the need to protect himself from future hurt. “It’s okay,” Stede says, reaching up to brush some of his hair aside. “You don’t have to say anything you aren’t ready to. Your forgiveness is already so much more than I deserve.”

Ed looks down at him then, his jaw relaxing. “You deserve everything. I want to give you everything.” Ed smiles, and the look in his eyes is so intensely fervent that Stede can do nothing except believe him.

Stede swells with warmth. “Ed.” He smiles and leans down to kiss him. It’s short and simple, but it feels like devotion and Stede feels himself melting. When he pulls back, Ed looks like Stede feels: sappy, besotted, and so, so in love. “I love you,” Stede says, and even though Ed can’t say it back yet, he sees it in Ed’s eyes.

The tiredness is still tugging at him, though, so rather than initiating a lengthy session of necking, like he’s tempted to do, he lays his head back down on Ed’s chest and lets Ed hold him as they both drift off into sleep.

Chapter Text

Things feel different with Stede after. They still have things to talk about, and they have a lengthy discussion about “weaponizing the trauma of the other party” - Stede’s words, to which Ed replies, “You can just say I was being a complete dickhole when I called you that, you know.” But even though Ed still can’t bring himself to say those three little words - I love you , how hard can it be? He’s loved Stede from almost day one - he really has forgiven him. There are moments when he still feels angry or sad, but nowhere near as intensely as he felt them before, and Lucius assures him it’s only natural to have those lingering feelings.

“You’ll probably always have them,” he says one afternoon during a reading lesson. “Pretty shitty for feelings to work like that if you ask me, but nobody consulted me on building humans, even though I think I would be pretty good at it.”

Ed strategically decides not to comment on that, as he thinks that a world full of Luciuses sounds exhausting. One is more than enough. 

But rather than things feeling strained and heavy, things with Stede almost feel like they’re getting back to how they used to be. There’s joking and laughing and so much talking about nothing and everything. The only real difference is there’s kissing now too. Lots of kissing. Like, more kissing in a few days than Ed thinks he’s ever done in his life. 

But there’s also the approaching date of the vote looming over Ed that puts a damper on his spirits.

Ed tries not to think about the vote as the week progresses. He knows he’s most likely dead meat as far as being allowed to stay goes. Even with Lucius practically campaigning on his behalf, it’s clear that a majority of the crew has yet to be swayed. 

He listens in one time, as Lucius is talking to Roach and Wee John, trying to appeal to them. They’re gathered in the dining area while Roach is preparing dinner. From where Ed is tucked away out of sight, he can see Roach chopping something - onions, from the smell of them - with a skeptic look on his face. John is sitting next to him with a deep frown, handing him ingredients and utensils as needed. 

“Listen,” Lucius is saying. “Forgiveness? Not my thing. I love a good grudge. I’ve got grudges going back a decade. I’m the fucking queen of grudges. If I ever run into Joshua Pincer again, I’ve got a whole revenge plan laid out, and all he did was shred one of my sketchbooks.”

“Yeah, we know you’re a petty bitch,” Roach says. “So what the fuck are you doing trying to convince us not to get rid of that psycho fucker?”

“That’s what I’m saying ,” Lucius snaps. “You didn’t see him after all the shit he did. And you didn’t see him when he first came back. It was pathetic, honestly.” Ed winces, remembering Izzy’s tirades as he tried to get Ed out of his depression. You’re a pathetic little shell of a man, Edward. “He was all holed up in a blanket fort, hadn’t been taking care of himself at all. And you all should have heard the first draft of the song he wrote. It was a total drag , so you’re welcome for sparing you from that, by the way.”

Ed flushes in shame. Was it really that bad?

“So, what? We’re supposed to be fine with a little attempted murder because he was sad ? I’ve been sad before, and I’ve never tried to murder anybody because of it.” John says.

“No, of course not,” Lucius says. “Like, you’re sad. Cool motive, still murder. But the Ed that I left that day, the guy that sang the song he wrote to us and wanted to have a talent show … did he seem about to go off the deep end and try to kill everyone?”

Roach frowns. “No,” he finally says. 

“ No ,” Lucius agrees. “But you know what happened in between making talent show plans and all the murder?” Roach shrugs. “Fucking Dizzy Izzy got to him.”

“Izzy?” Roach repeats disbelievingly, raising an eyebrow. 

“Izzy,” Lucius confirms. “The guy’s fucking poison for Ed.”

“Thought you had a crush on him,” John says, tapping his fingers on his knee. 

“Well, he’s hot . You can think someone’s hot and also think they’re a total piece of shit.”

“Mmm,” John says noncommittally.

Lucius sighs. “That’s not the point. The point is … I spent two months crawling around this ship in the walls. I haunted Ed and got my revenge. And it was pretty fun at first. But, you know, weirdly enough, you overhear things when no one knows you’re there. Like the first mate threatening to cut out the captain’s eyes if he doesn’t stop crying and get out of bed. Or talking about how the captain is an embarrassment to the word pirate and should be put down like a dog. Or, you know, telling the captain that he’s a monster trying to fit into a human suit and if he doesn’t burn that suit the first mate will do it for him. Just your normal, supportive first mate stuff.”

There’s a long pause until finally Roach says, “Jesus.”

“So you’re saying Izzy made him do it?” John says, still sounding skeptical.

Lucius sighs again and Ed can almost see him rolling his eyes. “No, I’m saying that Izzy clearly fucked with his head and knows just how to do it to set Ed off. And, in case you haven’t noticed, Izzy isn’t in the picture anymore.”

“Yeah, where is the fucker?” Roach asks. “No one’s given us a straight answer on what happened.”

“What happened ,” Lucius says gleefully, “is Ed hit rock bottom and pulled himself back up the cliff by cutting Izzy’s rope.” When Roach and John stare at him in confusion, Lucius continues, “He fucking told him off in front of the entire crew and said that they were done. He tossed him in the brig. Weeks ago.”

Roach still looks unconvinced. “And that makes it okay?”

Lucius groans. Ed recognizes that groan from his own talks with Lucius. It’s his patented why am I the only one around here who understands anything groan. “Fucking … no it doesn’t make it okay. But he’s apologized, he’s been working through his shit in, like, sort of healthy ways, the chance of murder has gone down to basically zero without Izzy here to wind him up. We were on our way to visit Stede’s grave , for fuck’s sake, so he could have some closure . The Blackbeard who tried to kill me, who marooned you, he’s gone.

“Frenchie, Jim, and I are all agreed. He’s staying here.” Ed feels a rush of warmth toward all three of them for their support. They were the ones who were treated the worst, and yet here they are advocating for him. The warmth cools a bit, though, as Lucius continues, “Plus, I’ve put too much work into the guy for him to be chased off. I’m basically his therapist. I should be getting a raise.” Ed rolls his eyes. Fucking prick. 

He slips off before he can hear Roach or John’s responses. 

-

Ed and Stede talk through a lot during that week. Ed apologizes to Stede for throwing away Stede’s things, as well as his crew. He shows him the auxiliary wardrobe and all the things he kept, including the box he’d put some of Stede’s own treasures in. He tells Stede about how he’d started doing better, after accidentally nearly killing himself. That it woke him up from the fog he was in, helped him realize he wanted to do better. He talks about Lucius, Jim, and Frenchie’s willingness to help him, despite all he’d done to them. How he owes all of them his life. 

He tells Stede about Izzy, about how their relationship was before Stede and Ed met. How Ed hadn’t realized how manipulative Izzy was until recently, until he had to confront him to finally break free. How he always felt like he was being pulled in two different directions: Izzy’s thirst for Blackbeard and violence and Ed’s own desire to just be . Ed tells Stede that he has no idea what to do with Izzy now, that he’s just been sitting down in the brig for weeks because Ed can’t stomach killing him, but he can’t let Izzy go just like that. Stede says that they’ll figure it out together. 

For Stede’s part, he tells Ed more about his father and his childhood, the multitude of ways in which he hates himself and how other people have only acted to solidify that feeling. He talks about how he’s been haunted by those thoughts since he was a child. That his inner demons will literally manifest to torture him, yell at him, insult him. He tells Ed about how lonely he was as a child and an adult, until Ed came into his life. He tells Ed that he’s the only friend Stede’s ever had.

There’s more crying and more comforting and more kissing. Ed feels like they’re finally in a place to start to move past everything that’s happened. Ed’s forgiven Stede, and though he hasn’t said it, he feels like Stede is on his way to forgiving Ed, too.

They’re snuggled in Ed’s blanket nest together a few days before the crew is meant to vote. Ed is silently freaking out about the whole thing, trying to hide it from Stede. He knows what the vote will be. He knows he only has two more days on this ship. He presses in further to Stede’s shoulder, burying his nose in the new growth of beard on Stede’s cheek.

Stede hums and rubs Ed’s thigh before shutting his book. “I can practically hear you thinking,” Stede says. He looks down at Ed through the reading glasses he’s acquired in the months since they separated. They’re round and make Stede’s eyes look bigger than they are and Ed thinks Stede looks absolutely adorable in them. “What’s going on in that lovely brain of yours?”

Ed feels his face heat up and fuck , Stede saying something like that really shouldn’t make him blush like this. “Nothing, just … thinking,” Ed mumbles, not wanting to get into it right now. They’ve talked about this so many times already. He just has to deal with the waiting and not knowing and sick churning of his stomach.

“Oh, right. Thinking .” Stede sets his book aside and brushes his fingers through Ed’s hair. “What an enigmatic and not at all frustrating answer.”

Ed huffs, flinging his arm across Stede’s waist. “It doesn’t matter. We’ve already talked about it. Talking about it again isn’t going to fix anything.”

“Ah. The vote.”

“I know you think it’s all going to be fine,” Ed says sullenly. “But pirates really aren’t the forgive and forget type, mate. They’re not gonna want me around.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” Stede argues, “about what people will forgive when they care about someone.” Ed opens his mouth to say sure, Stede loves him, that’s all well and good, but Stede continues, “And I don’t even mean myself. Just look at Lucius. He has more reason to hate you than anyone, and he’s forgiven you.”

Ed scoffs. “Well, that’s cause Lucius is a lunatic like you are.”

“We’re all mad here, darling,” Stede says. “Anyway, there’s not much more we can do. Just be nice tomorrow and it will all be fine.”

“Hmm,” Ed says skeptically. None of it will be fine.

“Let’s have dinner tomorrow,” Stede says suddenly, seemingly changing the subject out of nowhere.

Ed frowns. “We have dinner every night.”

“A nice dinner,” Stede amends, “just the two of us.”

Okay. That still doesn’t clear anything up. They’ve been having dinner together separate from the crew each night since Stede came back. “Uh, has there been a third person there the whole time that I’ve not been aware of?”

“No, I mean…” Stede nudges Ed’s head on his shoulder, a silent request for Ed to sit up and look at him. Ed does, pouting slightly at the loss of the feeling of Stede beneath his cheek. He gets to look at Stede now, though, and those glasses. “I mean a special dinner. I’ll have Roach cook us something nice and we can get dressed up if we want and light candles and … and make a night of it.” Stede’s cheeks are reddening with each word.

“Stede Bonnet, are you asking me out on a date?” Ed asks, only half teasing. 

“No!” Stede exclaims and then looks rueful. “Sort of.” His hand on Ed’s thigh is soft. “I just think, now we’ve sorted through a lot of the big stuff, it might be nice to … to mark the occasion. Sort of start fresh.”

Ed smiles thoughtfully. That does make sense. It could be a turning point for them. A way to officially mark the transition of their relationship before - whatever the fuck that was, because Ed doesn’t think there’s a word for it - to … to whatever it is now. Boyfriends? Lovers? “Okay. Yeah, okay. That sounds nice.”

“Yeah?” Stede asks with a shy smile.

“Yeah.”

“Good. I’ll talk to Roach tomorrow.” He leans in and kisses Ed gently. Ed’s stomach swoops, just from that little touch. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to kissing Stede. “I did promise to read to the crew tonight though.”

“Yeah, fine, fine,” Ed says, nuzzling back into Stede’s neck. “Go then.”

“Mm, bit hard to get up when you’re on me, though.” He pats Ed’s leg where Ed’s tossed it over Stede’s, effectively pinning him down.

Ed kisses the crook of Stede’s neck. “Sounds like a you problem.” He presses his thigh in between Stede’s legs. “Doesn’t seem like you’re having any problem getting up though. It is definitely hard.”

“Ed!” Stede gasps, sounding scandalized but laughing all the same. When Ed pulls back Stede’s face is flaming, his teeth biting into his bottom lip. “Tomorrow,” he finally says, squeezing Ed’s thigh. “Dinner. And…” His hand slides up further until it’s squeezing Ed’s ass and Ed practically squeaks. He’s positive he’s never made that sound before. 

“ Oh ,” he says. “When you say special, you mean special .” He was down for the dinner already, but he’s suddenly much more enthusiastic about the idea.

Stede’s fucking ears are going red. “Yes. I mean, we … I did say I wanted to wait to progress any further until we’d talked through our problems, and it … it does seem like we’ve reached a good place, so…”

Ed grins. “You don’t have to try and convince me, mate, I’m all for it.”

“Okay,” Stede says, his voice sounding shy, but happy. “Tomorrow then.”

“Tomorrow.”

Stede takes a moment just to look at Ed before he says, “I do actually need to get up though, Ed.”

Reluctantly, Ed flops off of Stede. “Fine.”

Stede gets up and picks a book from the limited choices. “Are you going to join us tonight?” he asks hopefully. 

Immediately Ed feels his smile drop. “Oh, I dunno, mate. I don’t think they want—”

“Nonsense,” Stede says firmly. “If anything, it will do them - and you - good to have you back amongst them, spending time like you used to.”

Stede does have a point. And, if by some miracle, they do vote for him to stay, he won’t be able to hide in the cabin all day. Ed sighs. “Yeah, alright. I’ll come up.”

Stede immediately breaks into a giant smile. “Wonderful. Up you go then.” He grabs Ed’s hand and hauls him up. 

Ed sighs again. “Lead the way.”

-

Ed tries to make himself seen about the ship the next day, offering help where it’s needed, tying and hauling lines, joining everyone for lunch. Stede had been right the night before. While there had been some initial discomfort among the marooned portion of the crew at his presence, it seemed to eventually dissipate as Stede got into the story. By the time Stede was finishing up, Ed seemed to have been all but forgotten and no one even watched him warily as he and Stede retired to their cabin. 

There are still several members of the crew whose thoughts he can’t seem to get a read on, but for the most part, everyone seems at the very least resigned to his presence and not outright angry or scared. So he’ll call that a win. 

Stede disappears early in the afternoon with a quick wave to Ed, off to make preparations for their dinner. He’s informed the crew that they’re going to be turning in early and aren’t to be disturbed except for circumstances of imminent death or danger. The reception to this announcement is teasing, with hoots and hollers and Jim, of all people, shouting out, “You gonna bone?” 

Ed feels his cheeks immediately color from where he’s watching, standing off to the side. Stede, surprisingly, just curls his mouth up into a self-satisfied smile and demurs, “A gentleman pirate doesn’t kiss and tell,” which is answered with more hooting. “Either way, today is your last day to think about and discuss how you’ll be voting, so those of you who are as yet undecided, I suggest you devote some time tonight to considering your decision.”

When the sun starts to set, Ed slips off to the small room he used to sleep in, before he and Stede began sharing the cabin. His clothing for the night is hanging on the wall, waiting for him. Stede had mentioned getting dressed up and Ed loves a costume opportunity, so he’d snuck into the wardrobe earlier that day while Stede was distracted with something else. He’d pulled Lucius in for help in picking an outfit and he thinks they did rather well for themselves. 

It’s purple, like the suit he’d worn to the French fete, but it’s a much lighter fabric and a different shade. He remembered Stede telling him how perfectly his complexion worked with purple and the way Stede had looked at Ed when he walked out of the closet, fully kitted up that night, hungry and like he wanted nothing more than to strip him slowly out of it. There are some fun ruffly bits as well, which he loves, and lacy bits. 

He gets dressed carefully, making sure his lines look right the way Stede taught him, tucking and buttoning and tying all the ridiculous bits and pieces. He brushes through his hair, but without help, the best he can do with it is tie it up. He thinks Stede likes it down though - he certainly likes combing through it with his fingers and tangling up in it when they’re kissing - so he decides against putting it up. He’s already shaved and his skin feels like silk. He freshens up the kohl around his eyes and pinches his cheeks a bit. His mum used to do that, to get some color, not that she really needed it. He probably doesn’t either, but it feels nice, like a good way to end the ritual of primping. 

When he takes a step back and studies himself in the small mirror he’d hung earlier, he smiles. He’s no expert on fashion or looking good - besides just natural good looks, thank you very much - but he thinks he passes muster.

He’s just about to leave when there’s a faint knock on the door. Frowning, he goes to open it and is surprised to see Stede on the other side, looking slightly nervous. Ed is immediately reminded of the last - and only - time Stede came knocking on his door like this, after the party, when he admitted that he couldn’t sleep without Ed there. “Um, hi,” Ed says a little uncertainly.

“Hi.” Stede’s face is bright red. His outfit is rather muted, compared to the bright colors he used to prefer. It’s a dark brown with green embroidery that evokes a feeling of vines and forest growth. It looks … it looks good . Of course. The color seems to darken his eyes while also bringing out the flecks of green and gold that make them so enticing. It’s been a while since Ed’s seen Stede in one of his fancy outfits. The way the cut of his jacket emphasizes his waistline, his thighs filling out his breeches in a way they hadn’t before with new muscle, his cravat tied just so to let a little bit of his neck peek out every so often… It’s all a lot.

Ed drags his eyes back up and away from Stede’s body to his face, realizing he’s been staring. “Is, uh … is something wrong?” It would be just their luck for the crew to get into some kind of trouble or for there to be an approaching vessel tonight.

“Oh, no,” Stede says quickly, tucking some of his hair nervously behind his ear. He’s managed to get it back to its former coiffed state despite the extra length. His curls are arranged as neatly and artistically as they ever were before … everything, and Ed’s hands are itching to run through it and muss them all up. “I thought … I thought it might be nice to pick you up.”

Fuck , that’s … that’s so fucking sweet. Ed quirks a smile. “Pick me up on the ship that we both live on?” he teases. “How very proper of you, Mr. Bonnet.”

“I’m afraid this isn’t proper of me at all,” he says gravely, clasping his hands in front of him. “I’ve completely disregarded the need for a chaperone to be present in the company of two unwed paramours. It’s quite scandalous, actually, I can assure you.”

“Oh, then I’m completely appalled at your behavior, you…” Ed flounders, trying to think of an appropriate fancy word, but he really doesn’t know that many fancy words. Still, Stede smiles encouragingly at him and Ed reaches for the first word that comes to mind: “Perv.”

Stede lets out a startled laugh. “I’ve got only the perviest of intentions, me,” he says with a grin and a seemingly unconscious look down Ed’s body.

Ed licks his lips. “Good.”

They’re both blushing like mad now and this is just all so embarrassing, isn’t it? Ed’s not inexperienced by any means, and yet here he is flushed from his forehead to his neck just from a little banter like a virgin on their wedding night. For lack of anything to do with his hands, he runs them through his hair a few times, like he’s straightening it out, and that seems to bring Stede back to the present.

“Am I too early?” he asks worriedly. “Do you still need some time? Because I can wait, or I can come back if you—”

“No, I’m good,” Ed says quickly. “I was just about to leave actually.” He looks down at himself, suddenly worried that he’s forgotten something important. “Why, do I … do I not look ready?”

“No, you…” Stede trails his eyes down Ed’s form again, slower this time. He swallows. “You look … quite handsome.”

Ed feels pleasure well up in his chest. Compliments. They’ve always been a … a thing for him. “Thank you,” he says, his voice embarrassingly soft. “You look … so do you.”

Stede blushes more, somehow. “Thanks.” He shifts nervously and then offers his arm. “Shall we?”

“Um, yeah, yup.” Ed cautiously loops his arm into Stede’s and shuts the door. “Yeah, let’s … we shall.”

With a small smile, Stede lifts Ed’s hand and presses a light kiss to the back of it, and fuck . Ed has no idea how he’s going to get through this night alive if Stede keeps doing cute shit like that, because he already feels like he’s going to melt into the floor. Stede takes the lead, fucking escorting Ed out to the deck like Ed’s some sort of … of fancy lady Stede’s taking to dinner, and he should feel ridiculous about this, especially as they pass by a few crew members gathered idly here and there shouting and hooting and whistling, but he doesn’t . He kind of loves it, actually. His face is still on fire, but he feels like preening amid all the calls. Stede is standing tall and proud next to him. He feels like Stede’s showing him off, the pretty little thing on his arm, and that … that does a lot for Ed. 

As soon as they pass through the threshold to their cabin, though, Stede seems to turn back into a man-sized bundle of nerves. He closes and briefly hesitates at the doorknob, so Ed leans over and locks it for him. Stede’s hands flutter in between them like he doesn’t know what to do with them, eventually settling for clasping them in front of him again. “Sorry,” he says, biting his lip. “I didn’t think, what with walking across like that… The crew…”

“I didn’t mind,” Ed assures him quickly.

Stede’s eyebrows furrow. “Really, you don’t have—”

“It’s fine,” Ed says, stepping a little closer. “You were, uh … showing off a little bit, huh?”

Stede looks like he immediately wants to deny it, but his face slowly clears with realization. “Oh. A … maybe a little.”

Ed grins. “Yeah.” He reaches out and twists a lock of Stede’s hair around his finger. “I liked it.”

“You did?” 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Oh.” Stede’s eyes flick down to Ed’s mouth and it’s all the invitation Ed needs to close the distance. 

Stede’s response is like fire. He wraps his arms around Ed’s neck, pressing in so they’re entirely flush against each other. Ed whines, grabbing Stede’s waist and trying to pull him closer. Stede is systematically licking into his mouth and Ed’s entire body is burning , thrumming. Stede pushes him back until he hits the door and fuck , this is—

“ Ah !” Ed yelps, lurching forward, a sharp pain in his lower back.

Stede withdraws immediately, breathing heavy, eyes hazy, but looking concerned. “That didn’t sound like a good ‘Ah’,” he comments uncertainly. He backs away, looking sheepish. He, shit, he probably thinks he did something wrong.

“No, the fucking—” Ed whips around to glare at the door. Fucking cockblocking piece of shit. “The doorknob jammed right into my back.”

“ Oh . Oh, Ed.” Stede looks immediately chagrined. “I’m sorry. I didn’t even think—”

“No, Stede, you … it’s not your fault.” Ed kind of wants to kick the door. “You can press me up against anything you want, just surprised me is all.”

Stede smiles. “Okay. Noted.” Ed lifts his hand to pull Stede back in, but Stede is already glancing over his shoulder. “Um, we should…” He gestures behind him to the table. “Dinner. Before it gets cold.”

Right. Dinner. That was the plan, wasn’t it? And now that Stede mentions it, Ed is pretty hungry. Hasn’t eaten since breakfast. “Yeah, dinner. Sounds good.”

Stede takes his hand and leads him into the room proper. Ed had been too distracted before to get a good look at it, but now that he does he gasps. There are candles everywhere, and lanterns draped with colored cloths to create colors dancing on the walls and ceiling. Stede’s lit the chandeliers - both of them - and the fireplace, the blanket nest pulled carefully away so as to not accidentally catch fire. The table is set simply but neatly, with the meager cutlery and china that survived the purge, with a lacy tablecloth. The “lush vegetation” that had been Stede’s first plunder is placed as a centerpiece, somehow thriving despite weeks of neglect. Ed suspects that someone else must have been caring for it when he wasn’t paying attention. There are several covered dishes laid out and Ed’s mouth waters at the smell of them. Really, Roach’s medical skills may be passable at best, but he certainly can cook. And topping it all off is a bottle of wine in a wine chiller with actual ice .

“The fuck did you get ice from, mate?” Ed asks in astonishment. 

“I have my ways,” Stede says mysteriously. Ed raises an eyebrow at him. He shrugs. “We were lucky enough to raid a ship transporting it to the Bahamas,” he admits. “And Roach apparently knows how to keep it all from melting immediately, so all the better for us.”

Stede leads him to the table and pulls out one of the chairs - the one facing the door; fuck, he knows that Ed hates sitting with his back to the door, the thoughtful bastard - gesturing for Ed to sit. Ed does, blushing, and Stede settles him in before crossing around the table to sit across from him. He picks up the lid of the first dish, asking, “Shall I serve you?”

Ed nods, cocking his head to the side in consideration. Stede spoons out some veg onto Ed’s plate first and then his own. “Stede?” Ed says as he watches curiously and Stede hums in questioning acknowledgment. “Are you … courting me?”

Stede pauses in the middle of recovering the dish, looking caught out. He glances up. “Yes?” he says nervously. 

A slow smile crawls across Ed’s face. This absolutely ridiculous man. “You know you don’t need to do that?” he says. “In case it wasn’t clear earlier with all the kissing, you’ve got me already.”

Stede blushes again. Or is still blushing. Ed can’t really tell anymore, they’re both so red-cheeked and flustered. “I know I don’t have to,” he says shyly. “But I … you deserve to be treated like this. To be treated nicely and sweetly and taken care of and I … I want to do it.”

Fuuuuck . Ed hides his face behind his hands. “You can’t just say shit like that, man, it’s too sweet .”

Stede bumps their knees together under the table. Ed peeks out over his hands. Stede’s wearing that pleased smile he gets when someone says something nice about him, like he can’t believe that anyone would think nice things about him. And, Ed guesses, with what Stede’s told him about his past, most people probably haven’t thought nice things about him. Well then, Ed will just have to think all the nice thoughts he can to make up for that deficit. 

Wordlessly, Stede serves him the rest of the meal: chicken topped with some kind of yellow sauce - Holland days, Ed thinks he calls it; must be a Dutch thing - which turns out to be rich and creamy and Ed soaks the extra up with the fresh bread Roach had made that day. 

There’s dessert too. Ed is confused when Stede pulls the wine bottle out of its holder and reaches into the ice to retrieve a small container. He watches Ed with anticipation as he opens it and spoons out some white, thick cream into bowls. “What’s this?” Ed asks, prodding at it with his spoon. It leaves a dent in the mixture, one that doesn’t lose shape like it would with normal cream or custard.

“The French call it la crème glacée ,” Stede says. “ Glace for short. It’s … ice cream.”

“French, huh?” Ed says, pursing his lips slightly. He definitely hasn’t forgotten those fucks laughing at him.

“They’re dicks,” Stede confirms, “but they do know food. I really don’t know how it’s made. Roach tried to explain it to me, but it all went over my head, I’m afraid.”

“Ice cream,” Ed murmurs. He watches Stede scoop a small amount up with his spoon and mimics him. He’s surprised at how strangely firm it is, yet the spoon seems to cut through it quite easily. They take their first bite together and Ed is almost too surprised by its temperature to appreciate the way Stede closes his eyes and moans in pleasure. “It’s cold!” Which, yeah, duh, Teach. It’s called ice cream. 

Stede just smiles fondly and agrees, “It is surprising, isn’t it?” He takes another spoonful. “But the flavor is absolutely perfect. Roach really outdid himself.”

Ed hadn’t even realized there was any flavor. He was too distracted by the novelty of it. He takes another bite, making sure to pay attention this time, and Stede is right. The flavor bursts on his tongue and this time he’s the one who moans. “Oranges,” he says in delight.

Stede grins and nods. “Only one or two this time, though. Not 40.”

They continue eating, savoring each bite. Ed props his head up on his arm and watches Stede’s enjoyment of the indulgence and suddenly he can’t go another second without Stede knowing just how he feels about him. “I love you,” Ed says, his voice soft.

Stede freezes with his hand in midair, spoon halfway to his mouth. After a moment, he slowly lowers it. His face is strangely blank and Ed has a sudden moment of panic. Should he not have said it? Stede had said it first, days ago, and Ed couldn’t say it then so maybe … maybe Stede changed his mind? Or—

“Oh, my darling,” Stede says. He gets up and walks around the table to Ed. Ed scoots his chair out and to the side so he can face Stede. He gets down on his knees in front of Ed and that’s … fuck , how many times has he fantasized about this? He subconsciously spreads his legs a little wider as Stede places a hand on Ed’s thigh. He takes one of Ed’s hands in his other and coaxes Ed’s fingers to open and gently kisses his palm. That … that shouldn’t feel that good , should it? “I love you, too. More than I ever thought it was possible to love someone.”

Stede’s eyes are hypnotizing. He lifts his hand to Ed’s cheek, stroking gently. He leans in and his lips lightly touch Ed’s and Ed makes a seriously embarrassing noise that he will resolutely deny he made later. Ed slips his arm around Stede, pulling him in close. They stay that way for a little bit, lips grazing, Ed’s hand spread on the small of Stede’s back, Stede’s new callouses lightly scraping along Ed’s cheek in a way that feels much too nice. 

And then something shifts, and Stede’s hand is suddenly on the back of his neck and he’s sucking on Ed’s lower lip and Ed grabs a fistful of Stede’s jacket. Ed pulls back long enough to say, “Come here,” as he tugs Stede up and onto his lap, Stede’s fucking amazing thighs bracketing Ed’s. The new position means that he can feel something hard pressing against his leg and he realizes that it’s Stede’s cock, and that Stede is hard , and so is Ed, and they … this is actually happening, isn’t it? All signs seem to point to yes, with the way Stede is trying to push off Ed’s jacket. 

Ed suddenly needs Stede’s jacket - his shirt, his breeches, too, all of it, but first things first - off now . He slips his hands beneath the fabric at Stede’s shoulders and tries to slip it off, but the angle of Stede’s arms is all wrong. Stede seems to realize this and he stops manhandling Ed’s clothing for a moment to pull the jacket off himself, letting it drop to the floor. Ed allows Stede to do the same to him and then immediately starts in on the buttons of his vest. His fingers are clumsy against them, and there are so bloody many of them, but somehow he finally manages and that joins their jackets in a pile. The shirt’s next and, fuck , why does there have to be so many bleeding layers? It’s ridiculous. 

Their kissing has turned into sloppily mouthing at each other. It’s wet and hot and so fucking good . Stede pulls back momentarily, his eyes hazy. “We should…” he tries before ducking back in for a few more messy kisses. “Bed,” he finally says.

“Yeah,” Ed agrees as Stede stumbles to his feet, somehow managing not to fall with Ed still clinging to him. “Yes, fuck, yeah.”

Ed continues to work at those damn buttons as they try to make the short distance to the bed without falling or crashing into something. They do just as Ed successfully - fina-fucking-ly - undoes all the buttons and pushes Stede’s shirt off and then it’s just skin. Stede’s warm, smooth, soft skin. Ed runs his hands up and down Stede’s sides, his back, his chest, marveling at finally being able to touch . He’s been pining for this since he first saw Stede, being able to touch anywhere and everywhere and … and see .

And that’s … he hasn’t seen yet, and that’s an absolute travesty. Stede finally manages to get the last of Ed’s buttons undone and then they’re both bare-chested and they separate a little so they can both look at each other. 

Stede is beautiful. Of course he is, Ed fucking knew that already. But seeing him here like this, his flush spreading down to his chest, reddening his pale skin, it’s different. It’s another dimension to his beauty. He has a light dusting of hair across his chest, tapering off into a trail leading below his breeches. His skin is lighter in some places than others, his arms - his fucking arms , Jesus - and part of his chest goldened by a tan. He’s lightly muscled from actually doing physical labor on the ship, though there’s still softness in his chest and a little bit of a belly that Ed wants to nuzzle into. 

He looks up to see his own wonder and admiration reflected in Stede’s eyes. “Ed, you…” he starts, then shakes his head slightly. “God, you are just so exquisite. I … it’s impossible to believe that I can actually have you.”

Ed is actually going to burst into flames, he knows it. Exquisite . That’s … god . “Shit, love, that’s my line.”

Stede huffs out a disbelieving laugh. “Really, there’s no comparison. I know I’m not—”

Ed stops him with a sharp kiss, pulling him back in. The skin-on-skin contact makes him fucking shiver, but Stede seems almost ready to collapse, swaying into Ed. Ed turns them around and pushes Stede back onto the bed, crawling on after him. He straddles Stede’s thighs and sits up, spreading his hands over the expanse of skin before him. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you, Stede?” He runs his hands up Stede’s chest, and Stede bites his lip but shakes his head. “Jesus, love, you are so fucking gorgeous.” He slips his hands up Stede’s arms and pins them by his head. Stede wriggles a bit, but makes a choked-off sound of pleasure. Still, Ed asks, “This okay?”

Stede nods enthusiastically. “Yes, yeah. More than okay.” His voice is thick and heavy, deeper than usual.

Ed smiles and bends down to catch Stede’s lips, coaxing them open and dipping inside. Stede’s tongue meets his and they slide against each other and it feels like heaven. “So hot,” he continues finally before sucking at the corner of Stede’s jaw. Stede tilts his head back, exposing more of his long neck, no longer hidden behind his frilly cravats. The bite Ed gave him is still there, but very faint. “So fucking sexy, Stede.” Ed traces the bite mark with his tongue before biting again, much lighter this time. He works at the spot, sucking and nipping and licking as Stede pants encouragement, his hips bucking up against Ed’s. 

Ed travels down with his mouth, kissing every bit of skin along the way. “God, your tits,” he says, biting into the flesh of his chest before circling his tongue around Stede’s nipple. He pulls it into his mouth, brushing his teeth over it, and Stede jolts.

“ Fuck , Ed, that’s…” Stede shudders as Ed releases one of his arms to rub over the other one, working it to hardness and pinching lightly. “Oh, fuck, Ed.”

“Like that?” Ed asks before kissing his way across Stede’s chest to suck on his other nipple. 

Stede squirms beneath him. “ Yes , fucking obviously .” 

“Oh, a little cheeky, are we?” Ed rests his head on Stede’s chest, looking up at him.

Stede huffs in frustration. “Ed, I swear, I think I’m going to burst if you don’t— oh .”

Ed rubs Stede’s cock lightly through his breeches, stroking a few times. “Okay?” he checks. 

“ Yes .”

Ed adds a little more pressure and Stede fucking whines, jerking his hips up. Ed releases him after a moment, causing Stede to whine again, and he moves to Stede’s breeches. “What do you want?” he asks, working at the laces.

Stede props himself up on his elbows, leveling his fuzzy gaze at Ed. “Anything. Everything.” He sits up the rest of the way, placing his hands on Ed’s chest, tracing the lines of one of his tattoos. “Whatever you want. I just want you .”

“ Fuck .” Ed’s hands fumble with the laces. He wants all of it, too, everything, but one thing he’s thought about the most. “D’you wanna fuck me?” he asks, embarrassed at the breathless quality of his voice.

Stede’s eyes widen and he licks his lips. “You mean … me inside…” Ed nods. “I don’t really know what to do,” he says.

“I’ll guide you,” Ed says. He loops his arms around Stede’s neck, working his fingers up into his hair.

“Yeah, yes, I want that,” Stede says, kissing him hard.

“Pants off then,” Ed says. They reluctantly untangle and make quick work of their pants and stockings and smallclothes and then Stede is just … completely naked in front of him. 

His thighs are just as mouth-watering bare as they are covered. Soft and plump, but with new muscle starting to build. Ed has to hold himself back from just biting into the meat of his thighs, from licking up the insides all the way to the thick patch of gold that draws his eyes next. Nestled in those curls is possibly the prettiest cock Ed has ever seen, pink and thick, just like Stede, standing upright and already leaking. Ed can’t help the small noise of hunger he makes at the sight of it. 

“Fuck, man, your cock ,” he breathes, still staring at it.

Stede’s voice is hesitant as he asks, “Is it … is it okay?” Ed’s eyes whip up to Stede’s face, because surely he’s joking . But Stede’s eyes are worried and he looks uncertain.

“Is it okay ?” Ed repeats incredulously. “Is it okay, he asks,” he announces to the empty room. Turning his focus back to Stede, he says, “Sweet, this is a thing of beauty. They should write poems and songs about it.”

Stede raises a skeptical eyebrow. “Well, now I know you’re taking the piss, because that’s ridiculous.”

“What’s ridiculous is that apparently no one’s ever told you how fucking nice it is.” Ed scoots down the bed, kissing Stede’s chest and stomach on the way. “So I guess I’m just going to have to show you.”

“What do— oh .” 

Ed sucks the tip of Stede’s cock into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the head. “ Edward ,” Stede gasps, his hands reaching out, so Ed grabs them and puts them in his hair. Stede needs no more encouragement to twist the strands through his fingers, Ed having already established how much he likes having his hair pulled. Ed licks his way up Stede’s cock, from the base where the scent of Stede is so heady it makes Ed’s brain fog up, all the way to the tip, and then swallows him down.

Stede’s hips jerk, his cock hitting Ed’s soft palate and making him choke slightly. “Oh, sorry, sorry,” Stede gasps out, but Ed smooths his hand over Stede’s waist and takes him in further. “Oh, that’s…” Stede’s hands tighten in Ed’s hair. He starts bobbing his head slowly, sucking and hollowing his cheeks and it doesn’t take long before Stede is writhing beneath him, trying not to thrust up into Ed’s mouth again. Ed feels a surge of satisfaction at unraveling Stede like this with just his mouth and he doubles his efforts until Stede pants, “Fuck, Ed, if you keep doing that, I—”

Ed lifts his head off, letting his teeth lightly drag along Stede’s length as he does so, making Stede shudder. Ed kisses up the crease where Stede’s leg meets his torso and rests his chin on Stede’s stomach. “Good?” he asks, watching Stede’s chest heave.

“Fuck,” Stede answers. He lays there for a second more before, quicker than Ed would think possible for a man who was moments away from coming, sits up and flips Ed onto his back. Ed cries out in surprise before Stede’s mouth is on his, sloppy and delving his tongue inside. “Fuck,” he says again when he pulls back, holding himself up above Ed. “I can taste myself on you,” he says in wonder.

Ed licks his lips and grins. “It’s a good taste,” he comments. He rolls his hips up, their cocks rubbing together, as he says, “But I think there was talk of fucking?”

“ You’re the one who distracted me,” Stede says, but he sits up anway, running his hands down the length of Ed’s torso. He looks down to Ed’s cock, looking hungry, but then glances back up uncertainly. “I … I’ve read about this - the Greeks, you know - but I … how…”

“We’ll need something slick,” Ed says, glancing around the room. “Lotion or oil or something.” He feels immediately guilty as he realizes, “I had them toss most of your stuff like that, though.”

“No matter,” Stede says. He scoots forward a bit, reaching over Ed’s head. Ed looks just in time to see him press on one of the boards, another one popping open. He reaches in and pulls out a little jar of something, closing the opening. 

“What … the fuck?” Ed asks as Stede settles back between his legs. 

Stede twists off the cap with a small smirk. “You didn’t think the auxiliary closet was the only thing I had built into the ship, did you?”

“I mean, I knew about the passages, ‘cause Lucius was haunting me from them.”

“Of course he was,” Stede says with a roll of his eyes. “Well, then I guess you’ll just have to find out what else I’m hiding.”

Ed cocks an eyebrow. “That a challenge?” he asks, his voice low.

Stede lightly draws a finger through the hair at the base of Ed’s cock and Ed shivers. It doesn’t quite tickle, but it tingles similarly. “Maybe,” Stede says. His fingers whisper up Ed’s cock, barely touching it and Ed whimpers. It’s so much and not nearly enough. “This okay?” Stede asks. It takes Ed a moment to realize he’s asking about the jar he pulled out, and not his infuriatingly light touches, which are not okay, but absolutely bloody fantastic.

Ed pokes his finger into the jar and it comes out wet. It’s some kind of oil with surprisingly no scent, but it certainly seems slick enough to work. “Think so,” he says, wiping his fingers on the sheets. Stede frowns slightly, but they’re honestly probably going to get a bit messier before the night’s over - at least if this all goes the way he wants it to - so they’ll need to clean them anyway. 

“So how do I…” Ed guides him through slicking up his fingers and working him open, and soon enough Stede is knuckle deep inside of Ed, cautiously pressing in and out. It’s torture in the best way, and he desperately wants more, but he knows Stede is nervous and afraid of hurting him and so Ed lets Stede get comfortable with the feel and motion. 

“Crook your finger a bit,” he says, pushing his fingers through his sweaty hair. “There’s a little bump or something there that feels fucking— fuck , yeah, you … that’s the spot.” He bites his lip with a strangled cry as Stede rubs over it again.

“What is that?” Stede asks, looking at him in wonder. Ed shrugs, too busy writhing against Stede’s hand to form an answer. “Does everyone have that?” he says.

“Just blokes,” Ed pants. It’s so fucking good and he needs more. “Reckon I’m ready for another finger, love,” he says with a wiggle of his hips. 

By the time Stede is three fingers deep, Ed is a wreck, sticky with sweat and thrusting his hips up looking for any kind of friction. Sex has never felt like this, not ever , and Stede seems to be enjoying drawing it out like this, if the intense and fascinated look on his face is any indication. Ed feels like he’ll actually die if he doesn’t come soon, but at the same time he never wants this to end. 

“God, Ed, you … like this, you’re…” Stede’s voice is thick and low, almost a rumble. “I think I want to keep you like this forever.” He mouths at the inside of Ed’s thigh, sucking a bruise into his skin. “You’re so lovely, darling.” Ed moans, screwing his eyes shut. “You’re so good for me, Ed, always, but especially like this.” 

Fuck , of course Stede’s noticed the way he gets when people say things like that, the fucking bastard. He opens his eyes and reaches for Stede, grabbing one of his arms. “Stede, please, I … I’m ready, fucking…” He tries to pull Stede up, but his arms are basically useless right now, weak and shivery. 

Stede gets the hint and pulls his fingers out. Ed feels suddenly bereft without them, but then Stede is crawling back up to hover over him, kissing a trail up his chest to his neck. “You’re ready for me?” he asks, nipping at his earlobe. 

“Yes, fuck , Stede.” Ed curls his fingers into Stede’s back, raking his nails down Stede’s soft skin. 

Stede kisses him, slow and filthy, grinding his hips down into Ed’s. “Beg for me, love,” he orders softly and fuck . Ed is going to die here, right now.

He’s too far gone to have any pride about this, because if he doesn’t get Stede’s cock in him now , he thinks he will literally combust. “Stede, please, love, I need you, please .” Stede’s watching him hungrily and Ed rolls his hips up again, his cock dragging against Stede’s this time. “Please, I need you to fuck me, Stede, I’m losing my mind here, I—”

Stede captures his lips again, cutting off his pleas. Ed groans into his mouth, squeezing Stede as tightly as he can, needing him on top of him, melting into him. Too soon Stede is sitting up, reaching for the jar again. Ed moves to turn over, but Stede stops him with a hand on his hip. 

“Can we … can we do it like this?” he asks uncertainly, all of the confidence momentarily gone. “I … I want to see you.”

“Fuck,” Ed says, mid-turn. He’s never actually fucked like this before. It’s normally been quick and dirty, getting off in a half-hidden corner or pressed against a wall or a table. But the idea of seeing Stede, watching his face when he comes, is impossible to dismiss once it’s there. “Yeah, yes.” He rolls back onto his back, settling his hips against Stede’s. 

Stede smiles. “Good. That … I do want to do it that way too, but … but next time, maybe.” Ed feels a thrill at the thought of next time , the promise of a future. Stede’s slicking up his cock and Ed automatically spreads his legs wider. He eyes Stede’s thick cock, his hands stroking over it, and his mouth waters at the anticipation of Stede filling him up with it. 

Stede lines it up with Ed’s hole, lightly rubbing it over the sensitive muscle in a way that sends shivers up Ed’s spine. “Ready?” Stede asks, still looking a little nervous.

Ed presses back to meet him with a nod. “Yes, yeah, want you fucking inside me.” 

Stede slowly begins to press in and Ed’s so tempted to pull him in all the way, but slower in this case is probably better. It’s been a while - years - since he’s done this, and Stede isn’t small by any means. There’s a distinct burn as he breaches Ed, and it hurts a bit, but in a good way. 

“Oh, god, Ed, you…” Stede says, working himself in a little more.

“Yeah, you…” Ed gasps as Stede shifts his hips, changing the angle. “You too,” he manages.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Stede is fully sheathed inside Ed. He leans forward, stretching out over Ed, letting both of them get acclimated while bathing Ed’s neck in attention. “You good?” he asks, his lips whispering against Ed’s skin. 

“Yes, please , I—” Ed cuts off with a sharp cry as Stede starts moving, grinding his hips down at first, causing Ed’s fingers to scrabble on his back. “ Oh , Stede, fuck, that’s…”

That’s nothing , apparently, because then Stede starts fucking him in earnest, and Ed’s mind nearly blanks out. His thrusts are slow at first, long drags in and out that make Ed’s back arch up into him. With every thrust of his hips comes a roll and grind and it’s fucking incredible. He feels near to bursting already, just from this, and then Stede starts moving faster and Ed wraps his legs around Stede’s waist, trying to pull him in closer. He pushes up to meet Stede thrust for thrust. He’s spewing out a litany of please and yes and Stede and just plain nonsense, but he can’t be bothered to care how stupid he may sound, not with the way Stede’s eyes are locked on his. Stede is uttering out a constant string of compliments that cause Ed’s head to spin even more than it already is, and then Stede changes the angle just so and Ed swears he sees stars.

He can feel his orgasm building already and he hasn’t even touched his cock. He has no idea if he can come like this, but it certainly feels like it. And then it doesn’t even matter, because Stede is groaning and warning him, “Fuck, Ed, I’m … I’m close.”

“Me too, sweet, fucking …” He reaches between them to take his cock in his hand and yeah , he really is fucking close . “Fuck, Stede, I want to see you.” Stede squeezes his eyes shut and Ed digs his nails into his back. “Look at me, love,” Ed says.

Stede does, and then his hips are stuttering as he makes the sexiest sound Ed’s ever heard in his life. It’s enough to tip Ed over the edge too, pulling Stede in closer, scratching down Stede’s back and probably leaving a trail that will still be there in the morning. They cling to each other as they both ride through the waves of pleasure and then Stede collapses on him. Ed wraps his arms around his neck, his legs still clamped around Stede’s waist, as Stede shudders on top of him. 

“Fuck, Ed, that was…” he starts, his voice muffled from where his face is tucked into Ed’s neck.

“Amazing?” Ed suggests, surprised at the hoarse quality of his voice. 

“I was going to say something more like transcendental.” He pushes himself up slightly until he’s leaning on his elbows, still on top of Ed. “Is that what it’s supposed to be like? Because that has not been my experience at all.”

“Same,” Ed says and Stede looks at him, shocked. “Thought I’d had good sex before, but compared to that, it was all pretty much shit.”

“Oh,” Stede says, a small smile curling on his lips. 

“Yeah,” Ed says. He traces his thumb over Stede’s lips. “Oh.” Stede sucks Ed’s thumb into his mouth and Ed groans, his cock somehow valiantly twinging with interest. “Christ, sweet, you’re an absolute menace .”

Stede’s smile deepens before he releases Ed’s thumb, rolling off of him. He settles into Ed’s side, his arm thrown over Ed’s stomach. Ed kisses the crown of his head and reaches for one of their discarded clothes. He comes up with his shirt and wipes at their stomachs before tossing it back down and wrapping his arms around Stede. They snuggle in together.

“Ed,” Stede says suddenly, his voice sounding like he’s halfway asleep already, but still has something important to say.

“Hmm?”

“I forgive you, too,” he says. Ed feels his eyes suddenly tear up, but he bites back against them. “I think you know, but I wanted to say it. And I love you.” Stede lifts up slightly, meeting Ed’s eyes. “And I really think everything will be fine tomorrow, but if it … if it doesn’t go our way, I’ll still love you, and I have no intention of losing you ever again.” He strokes Ed’s face, then tucks Ed’s hair back behind his ear.

“I…” Ed takes a deep breath. “I know that now,” he says, pulling Stede in closer. “And I know we’re both working hard to get past all the stupid shit we did. And I … I really think we can get there.”

Stede leans in to kiss him, gentle and sweet. “I think so too,” he says.

“I love you, Stede.” They kiss again and then Stede lays back against Ed, their legs tangling together. Ed breathes in the sweet scent of Stede and they drift off together.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Stede wakes later than he had intended. The sun is already shining brightly into the cabin, causing him to squint against the light. His body is aching pleasantly and he stretches, enjoying the feel of the burn of rarely-used muscles. To his delight, Ed is still snoring beneath him. Stede props himself up to take the opportunity to study him in this new context. 

He’s seen Ed naked before, but last night was the first time he really felt free to appreciate it. Despite Ed’s enthusiasm for Stede’s body last night, Stede knows there’s really no comparison. With Ed’s darker skin tone, his muscles honed from years of manual labor, the tattoos swirling across almost every inch of him, the salt-and-pepper chest hair sprinkled across his torso and leading down… Well, Stede knows he’s never truly appreciated the human form until Ed. He is just so effortlessly beautiful. Stede has no idea how Ed would have any interest in him . Except that he does. And he made it abundantly clear. 

Stede traces the swirls of waves inked into Ed’s abdomen, causing him to mumble adorably in his sleep, down to his hip, where they morph into a sort of messy seabird. The inked lines there are much less skillfully done and Stede wonders if it might have been an early tattoo. Or perhaps done by an unpracticed hand. But upon closer inspection he realizes that it’s not that the bird is messy ; it’s covering something up. Another tattoo?

Stede sits up, bending over Ed to look more closely. There’s something written there, under the bird, but it’s difficult to read. The lines of the covering tattoo cut into it oddly, almost as if it was meant to make the marking unreadable. Still, Stede squints and finally he can make out something that looks an awful lot like suck eggs , and Stede suddenly freezes.

It’s … that can’t be a…

You can go suck eggs in hell . 

Stede is suddenly reeled back to that moment on the beach, Ed talking about how shocked he was for someone to say that to him. At the time, Stede had assumed it was because no one talked like that to Ed. To Blackbeard himself. But … Never thought I’d hear someone say those words to me . Those words . He hadn’t meant the insult. Those specific words. Because they were Ed’s wordmark. In the same place that Stede’s wordmark is. Which means that…

But it’s impossible , because Stede’s wordmark is different. It’s … the first thing Ed ever said to him wasn’t even close to the words on Stede’s hip. So it … then Stede is Ed’s, but Ed isn’t…

What the fuck kind of sick fate is that ?

“You’re doing an awful lot of thinking for so early, love,” Ed grumbles, his eyes still closed. He reaches out blindly for Stede and manages to find his arm. “Come back,” he says, giving him a weak tug. 

“You … you never said.” Stede starts faintly.

Ed frowns and opens his eyes, squinting against the harsh light. “Said what, love?” At the blank look on Stede’s face, Ed sits up. “Stede? You okay?”

“Your…” Ed glances down at where Stede’s fingers are brushing over his hip. An expression of realization slowly dawns on his face.

“My wordmark?” Ed says. Stede nods wordlessly. “Kind of weird, huh?”

Kind of weird? Stede would say more like unfair. Cruel. “It’s…” For maybe the first time in his life, Stede has no words. 

“First time we’re seeing them, kind of makes the whole thing seem more real.” Ed’s eyes flick down and his fingers mirror Stede’s, lightly wisping over Stede’s hip. The words there. That Ed can’t read .

“Ed, I … I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” Stede feels tears welling up.

“Know what?” Ed looks up and immediately looks panicked. “Stede, what…” He stops and takes a breath. “Okay, not gonna lie, you’re freaking me out a little bit here. What’s wrong ?”

Stede looks down as he feels the tears start spilling over. “This is all so fucked up,” he whispers. 

Ed scoots forward and pushes his fingers through Stede’s hair. “Okay, hun, I’m gonna need an explanation of what’s going on in your head right now, because I really don’t understand.”

Stede nods and sucks in a shaky breath. God, this is … this is going to hurt Ed, again . Stede just keeps hurting him. “I … I didn’t realize that I’m your wordkeeper because … because you’re not…” Stede looks up, trying to convey just how heartbroken and apologetic he is with his eyes. “You’re not mine.”

To his surprise, Ed just frowns. “Yeah I am.”

“No, Ed, you’re… This isn’t what you said ,” Stede stresses, pointing at his hip. 

Now Ed’s just looking at him like he’s crazy. “Um, yeah it is.”

God, this just keeps getting worse and worse. “Ed, sweetheart, I … I know you can’t really read, you know you don’t have to hide—”

“I can read it,” Ed says. He’s still got that look in his eyes, like he’s preparing for whatever insane thing Stede’s going to do next, only in a bad way, not the anticipatory excitement he usually has when he looks at Stede like this. “Enough of it, anyway.”

“You what?”

“I can read it,” Ed says again. He quirks his lips slightly. “Are you sure you can?”

“You can…” Stede looks down, twisting around slightly. Is it possible, after all this time, it’s actually changed ? But no, it’s still the same curly letters, the same infuriating words. The Gentleman Pirate, I presume . But then, if Ed can read it, he should know that’s not what he said. “But you … the first time we met, you were talking about a close call and getting stabbed by some Spaniards, not—”

Ed’s shaking his head. “That’s not … Stede, we met before that.” Ed widens his eyes.

“ No ,” Stede insists. “We met after I got stabbed, right here. You were leaning over me when I woke up, like you’d sat at my bedside all night. I think I would remember meeting you if it—”

“Fuck, you don’t … you don’t remember .” Ed shakes his head again. “Of course you don’t remember, you fainted right after. Fuck me , I’m an idiot.”

“What are you talking about?”

Ed puts his hands on his shoulders, looking at Stede intently. “Love, try to think back. Before you woke up in here, when we were still on the Spanish ship. They were…” His lips tighten. “They were hanging you and one of my boys cut you down. You were lying there in the middle of all the chaos and I came over to you. I was already fascinated by you. Even before Izzy gave me your message and I found out you were my wordkeeper. I crouched down by you and I said, ‘The Gentleman Pirate, I presume?’ And you looked up at me like you were, I dunno.” He chuckles. “Seeing god or something. ” There’s a flicker of recognition in Stede’s memory now, a hazy image of an imposing man with kind eyes looking down at him, smoke behind him. “And you said—”

“‘You’ve heard of me?’” Stede whispers. 

Ed smiles, lifting one of his hands to Stede’s cheek. “Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of you.” Ed leans forward, resting his forehead on Stede’s. “‘I’ve heard all about you.’”

“Oh my god,” Stede whispers. The memory jolts back into his consciousness, everything a confusion of noise and pain and a haze across it all, but he can see Ed. He sees him approaching, hears the heavy sound of his boots, so familiar now. The leather, noticing how fucking hot this guy is in it, even through the white-hot pain. His voice, low and soft. So much softer than he would have imagined Blackbeard to sound. “Oh my god. I remember. Ed .”

“You remember?” Ed asks, grinning.

Stede nods, feeling giddy. He fucking remembers . “You’re my wordkeeper,” he says, his voice cracking on the last syllable. 

“You’re mine.”

Stede laughs in wonder, tilting his head to kiss Ed. He feels like his insides are lighting on fire. So many things make so much more sense now. The magnetic effect Ed’s had on Stede from the start, the intensity of his feelings. 

Ed pulls back, his hand still on Stede’s cheek. “So you … you didn’t know ?” Stede shakes his head. “What did you think was happening?”

Stede runs his fingers up Ed’s side, enjoying the softness of his skin. “I just thought I was falling in love. And I felt so guilty about it; I was tearing myself up over it.”

“Guilty?” Ed asks, frowning. “Why?”

“Because I was falling for someone who wasn’t my wordkeeper!” Stede sits back, pulling his head from where it’s been resting against Ed’s forehead. He cards his fingers through Ed’s hair, tucking it back. “And I … bad enough I was keeping you from your life. I didn’t want to keep you from true love too.”

“Stede,” Ed says, his voice affectionately frustrated. “You do know the chances of someone ever meeting their wordkeeper is, like, basically impossible.”

Stede sighs. “So people keep telling me.”

“So even if we weren’t meant to be, or whatever, it’s still my choice who I want to be with.”

“I know, but I didn’t want you to feel like you were stuck with me.” 

Ed groans. “Stede, sweet, I love you so much, but sometimes I want to just rip out whatever part of your brain keeps telling you this shit. I’ll tell you this as many times as it will take for you to start believing it.” Ed takes Stede’s face in both of his hands, so that Stede can’t look anywhere but at him. “I love you. I choose you. I want to be with you. Forever. Until I die or until you decide you don’t want to be with me.”

Stede’s heart swells, and still the thoughts come that Ed will change his mind or is just humoring him, but Stede tries to push them as far out of his head as possible. Ed loves him. Ed doesn’t say things he doesn’t mean. “Impossible,” Stede huffs out.

“ Stede —”

“I’ll always want to be with you,” Stede says. Ed’s mouth clamps shut. “Forever.”

Ed’s eyes tear up and Stede feels momentarily panicked that he’s said or done something wrong. But Ed’s smiling and stroking Stede’s cheeks with his thumbs and then he says, “I love you.”

“I love you,” Stede says right back, “my darling. My wordkeeper. My Ed.”

Ed makes a little choked sound and then he surges in to kiss Stede fiercely. His lips are bruising in their pressure and Stede is surprised both at the shock of it and at how much he likes it. He pushes back, nipping and sucking with his own teeth and lips. Ed’s hands are in his hair, on his neck, down his back, his hips, his chest, somehow everywhere all at once. Stede moans at the sheer desperation with which Ed is touching him, pushing him back to lie down. Stede lets him be guided down, his breath hitching when he feels Ed straddling him, the weight of his body heavy but pleasant. 

Ed is still kissing him, grinding down on him. Stede slides his hands down to grasp at Ed’s hips, cup his ass, pulling him in for more contact. “Wanna ride you,” Ed’s saying between sloppy kisses. “Wanna make you come so hard you see stars.”

“Yes, please , that sounds…” He feels Ed shift slightly, sitting up, and he opens his eyes in time to see Ed scooping some of the oil out of the jar Stede had left on the bed. He reaches behind himself and, fuck , Stede can feel Ed’s fingers working himself open, his knuckles brushing against Stede’s cock. “God, Ed, you look so good. You’re gonna be so good for me, aren’t you?” Ed moans and nods, speeding up his fingers. “You’re not too sore?” Stede asks, because he really does want to fuck Ed again, but not if it will hurt him. 

“No,” Ed says. His hips are rolling slightly against Stede and the barely-there movement against Stede’s cock is infuriating. “Little sore, but I … I like that, actually.”

“Oh, do you?” Stede says with a smirk. “I’ll have to keep that in mind.” He reaches for the jar and scoops some up for himself, then wraps his hand around Ed’s cock. Ed whimpers, his mouth falling open. “Too much?” Stede asks and Ed shakes his head. 

After what’s probably too short a time for Ed to have properly prepared himself, though Ed insists he’s ready, Ed is coating Stede’s cock in oil. He maneuvers himself until Stede feels the tightness of Ed’s hole against the tip. Ed breathes, seems to visibly try to relax his body, and then sinks down onto Stede. It’s somehow more intense than last night, Ed seating himself fully in Stede’s lap, Stede’s cock in Ed all the way to the hilt. 

“Fuck, Ed, you’re so incredible. You feel amazing.” It hadn’t taken Stede long to cotton on to the praise thing. He’d noticed it within weeks of their first meeting, the way Ed’s eyes crinkled and he looked away bashfully whenever Stede complimented him or praised him. He would have bet anything back then that whenever Ed made that face, he was blushing intensely, and now Stede can see it for himself.

Ed’s face flushes so prettily, his skin darkening with a rich red tint. He starts moving, a slow drag at first, and then quicker. Stede digs his fingers into Ed’s hips, over his wordmark, over his tattoos. “You’re gorgeous like this,” Stede says, letting his eyes trace up from where they’re joined, Ed’s cock standing proud and dusky, up his torso where Stede can see every flex of Ed’s muscles, his chest, his long, elegant neck, up to his face, flushed and screwed up with pleasure. “I could watch you forever, Ed, the way you move, the way you’re fucking yourself on me. It’s perfect. You’re perfect.”

Ed moans and picks up his pace, grinding down with every downstroke. “ Stede .” He falls forward, pressing his weight into his hands. “‘M supposed to be the one driving you crazy.”

“Fuck, love, you are .” Stede takes the opportunity, now that he’s in reach, to run his hands up Ed’s sides to his chest, circling his thumbs around Ed’s nipples. Ed’s hair is falling in a messy curtain around them. “The way you feel, so tight and hot. I’m going absolutely mad, darling.”

“You’re real … fucking coherent, for some-someone going mad.” He gasps. “Oh, do that again.”

Stede grins and scratches over Ed’s nipples, Ed moaning. Ed grabs one of Stede’s hands and raises it to his mouth. His hips slow as he kisses Stede’s palm, his knuckles, each finger, before sucking two of them into his mouth. Stede feels a jolt run directly from them to his cock. “Oh, Ed, that’s…”

Ed looks smug as he speeds up again. He circles his tongue around them, in between them, and how does that feel so fucking erotic? “Your fucking mouth , Edward,” Stede moans. He grabs Ed’s arm with his free hand, clutching it tightly. “That … why is that…”

Ed pops Stede’s fingers out of his mouth to say, “ That’s more like it.” He licks up Stede’s palm before moving to the next finger, his ring finger. 

Stede feels himself suddenly right on the edge, about to tip over. “Ed, I’m…”

“Yeah, love, come on.” Ed sucks Stede’s pinky in, swirling his tongue, and Stede’s pretty sure his vision goes all white. “Fuck, Stede, that’s it.”

Stede’s orgasm hits him in a wave, crashing over him. It seems to last forever, Ed talking him through it the whole time, still moving his hips. When Stede can finally think again, he opens his eyes to see Ed, still straddling him, working his own cock. Stede is still inside of him, softening and oversensitive, but still sending tingles down his legs to his toes. 

Stede stops Ed’s hand, asking, “Can I?” Ed nods enthusiastically, biting his lip, and Stede takes over with long, tight strokes. Ed’s cock is still slick enough from Stede’s work earlier that it slides quite easily through his hand. He adds on a little twist at the end - he thinks he saw Ed doing that just now - and it’s not long before Ed is spilling over onto Stede’s stomach. He makes such lovely noises when he comes, Stede’s noticed, and Stede would like nothing more than to lie in bed all day and be the cause of them. 

Ed carefully pulls Stede out of him and flops onto his side next to Stede. “We’re really fucking good at that,” he comments breathlessly and Stede can’t help the giggle that bubbles out of him. Ed joins him quickly and they laugh, clutching each other through the fits of giggles. 

They lie in bed together for a little while longer until the sun starts shining into the room in earnest. “We should probably get ready,” Stede says, but he really doesn’t want to leave the comfort of Ed’s arms. 

“Mm,” Ed says, and he too makes no move to get up. He snuggles in closer, in fact, his hand brushing over Stede’s hip and his wordmark. 

Stede is suddenly reminded of the second mark on his body, on his other hip. You . It’s the first thing Ed had said to him when Stede climbed aboard the ship again. If Ed’s his wordkeeper, could it be possible that the new wordmark is theirs too?

“Ed, could I ask you something?”

“‘Course,” he says, pressing a kiss to Stede’s jaw. 

Stede curls his hand around the back of Ed’s neck. “Did you… About a month ago, did you notice anything … new on your body?”

Ed props himself up on his elbow. “Maybe. Didn’t notice it until a few weeks ago though. Did…” Ed’s eyes flicker down to Stede’s hips. “Do you have a new one?”

Stede shifts so that Ed can see his left hip, the single word etched there. It barely takes him a moment to wordlessly read it before his eyes flick back up to Stede’s. “Yours?” Stede asks, a clump in his throat. Ed twists his hips and Stede has to lean in to see it behind among the lines of his tattoos. Ed . Stede feels a thrill run through him. “So that’s … we’re … doubly fated?”

Ed chuckles. “Is that a thing?”

“No idea,” Stede says with a shrug. “I mean, I’ve heard of them changing, but that’s rare. I mean, I used to check mine every day after we met, hoping it would be different. But I’ve never heard of getting a new one.”

“Lucius said his come and go. He’s had a bunch.”

“Really?” Stede asks, intrigued. He’s never heard of something like that. It hasn’t escaped Stede’s notice that Lucius tends to … see more than one person at a time. Could it have to do with his openness to multiple partners? He wonders if Lucius would be willing to talk about it. Flesh out some theories.

Stede looks up when he feels Ed’s hands in his hair. He’s got a playful little smile tugging at his lips. “What?” Stede asks.

“You checked your mark every day?” Ed’s other hand is on his thigh, his thumb rubbing small circles. “Just to see if it changed?”

Stede’s face flushes. “ Yes . And?”

“You had a crush on me,” Ed says with a small squeeze of Stede’s thigh. “That’s so cute. You liked me.”

“Ed, we’re wordkeepers .” Stede feels like his face is on fire. Honestly, he has been inside this man twice within a 12-hour period. How can he still be so flustered by him? “We’re in love with each other.”

“Yeah, but you had a massive crush on me.” Ed leans in to give him a small kiss on the nose. “So adorable.”

Stede rolls his eyes, but he can’t help the smile curling his lips. “A bit of an ego there, eh?”

“I am very famous, those usually go hand in hand.” Ed kisses him softly.

“Famous, are you? I had no idea.” 

“You haven’t heard of me?” Ed sits up and flicks his hair back. “Jeff the accountant?”

Stede giggles. “Jeff the accountant? Why I have heard of you!” Stede presses his lips to Ed’s collarbone. “The life of every party, I’ve heard. Absolutely everyone wants Jeff the accountant at their shindig.”

“Partying hard is such a burden,” Ed says solemnly, “but it’s what the public wants. Who am I to deny them?”

Stede places his hand over Ed’s heart. “Truly, Jeff the accountant, you are a martyr.”

Ed cracks a smile first and Stede bursts into laughter. They collapse into each other, somehow managing to support each other’s weight as they laugh. There’s a sudden bang on the door that startles them both into momentary silence.

“If you two are done with whatever weird foreplay you’re doing,” Lucius’ voice calls, sounding irritated, “maybe you’d like to deign us mere mortals with your presence?” The snappish effect is lost as Lucius uncertainly says, “Presences? That doesn’t sound right.” Stede has no idea why, but he’s covering his mouth, as if he’s trying to hide. “Either way, you’ve got some antsy kids out here eager to take part in the democratic process.”

Stede unclamps his mouth. “We’ll be right up,” he calls. He hears Lucius muttering as he wanders away.

They burst back into laughter as soon as they can’t hear him anymore. “I think we’ve been summoned,” Stede says between giggles, trying to catch his breath. 

“Seems that way,” Ed says. His entire demeanor changes abruptly, the relaxed lines of his shoulders tensing, his eyes turning wary, his jaw clenching. “Right. The vote.”

“The vote,” Stede acknowledges. He squeezes Ed’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay. Whatever happens, I’ll be with you.”

Ed smiles softly. “I know.” 

They lean in for another quick kiss, soft and comforting this time. “We should get dressed,” Stede says when they separate.

Ed looks terrified for a moment before he seems to steel himself. “Yeah. Let’s do this.”

-

The crew is already gathered around when Stede and Ed emerge from the cabin and the effect is rather intimidating. “Oh,” Stede says, pausing slightly as he emerges. “You all look quite ready.” He’s met with expectant looks from every single member of the crew. They’ve anchored near a remote island, one that Ed said most ships avoid because of the strange currents, so they’re not likely to have anyone unwanted come across them through the process. They’ve even pulled Ivan from the Atonement , which he’s been keeping watch on and manning whenever he’s needed. The only person on the ship who isn’t present is Izzy. 

“So,” Stede starts with a clap of his hands. “We all know why we’re here today. We’re holding a vote to decide whether Captain Teach remains on the ship or takes his leave. We’ll do the voting anonymously so no one has to worry about any retaliation for the way they vote. Majority rules and if you’re uncomfortable with the result, the option to leave is still open to anyone. Questions?” The crew is eerily silent as Stede waits a few moments. “Okay then. If—”

“Actually, wait,” Roach says, his hand shooting into the air. Stede nods at him. “Who’s counting the votes?”

“Oh, an excellent question, Roach!” Stede exclaims. “I thought we might go through them together as a crew. That way there’s no possibility of impropriety on any of our parts. How’s that?” There’s a murmured agreement among everyone and Stede smiles. “Then I’m going to let Ed say something before we begin.”

The familiarity of the scene hits Stede in a strong sense of deja vu, with the crew gathered around them and Stede stepping aside for Ed to speak, just as they did one week ago. Unlike last week, though, Ed seems much less nervous, stepping up and looking out among the crew. Lucius blows him a kiss which seems to make Ed feel even more at ease. 

“I’m sorry,” Ed starts, meeting the eyes of each crew member one by one. “I apologized last week, I know, but I’m doing it again because I … I really am sorry for how I treated all of you. And I know a sorry’s not good enough after what I did, but it’s all I’ve got. That, and, if you…” He pauses to take a deep breath. “If you all will give me a second chance, I’ll do everything I can to do right by you, as your captain, your crewmate, your friend, and your … your family. Because you all are a family, and I … I’d like to be a part of it, if you’ll have me.” Ed glances back to Stede, who smiles. “Anyway, that’s it. You’ve all probably decided how you’re gonna vote already, but just thought I would say my piece.”

Stede looks back over the crew as Ed steps back and his stomach twists with nervousness. Most of them are keeping their expressions carefully blank and those who aren’t - Lucius, Frenchie, Oluwande, and Pete, mainly; Jim is as usual completely stoic - are those who he already knew would vote in Ed’s favor. He plasters on a smile. “So! Let’s get down to business. Lucius, if you could pass around the paper and charcoal?” 

Lucius raises his arms above his head, one hand holding a bucket of charcoal, the other scraps of paper ripped from his notebook. He dumps the bucket on the ground in the middle of the gathered group and tosses the paper after. “Consider it passed around,” he says. What follows is a mad scramble for everyone to get their hands on the ripped shape they like the most, with some trading and a few scuffles for good measure. 

Once everyone is settled back in their spots again, each with their voting materials in hand, Stede nods. “Lovely. Thanks for that, Lucius,” he says flatly. He ignores Lucius’ sarcastic “You’re so welcome,” and holds up two of his own pieces of paper. “The question at hand: will Captain Teach stay or go? You’ll write your answer on your sheet, fold the paper, and bring it up here to put into this box.” He holds up an old hatbox that had been stuffed behind several pairs of shoes in the auxiliary closet. “If you’re voting for Ed to stay, mark your paper with a circle” —Stede demonstrates a quick circle on one sheet— “and if you’re voting for him to leave, mark your paper with an X” —he does the same on the other sheet. He pins both sheets up to the mast behind him. “Again, that’s circle for stay, X for go. Questions? No?” Stede lets out a small breath as he looks across the crew. He knows them. They’re good people. This will be fine. “Okay. Make your votes. Take as much time as you need. Keep in mind, though, we do know how many of you there are, so don’t try to sneak in extra votes just because there happens to be extra paper lying around,” Stede says, glaring at Lucius, who just grins. “All right. Off you go.”

Stede hops up onto his usual barrel, Ed shuffling in next to him, leaning against him. Stede wraps his arm around Ed’s shoulders and kisses his forehead. “It’ll be okay, darling,” he says and Ed nods.

Surprising absolutely no one, Lucius is the first to his feet within seconds of Stede hopping onto the barrel. He makes a show of not folding his paper and practically slam dunking it into the hatbox. He turns around with a defiant glare and Stede rolls his eyes before snapping, “Lucius! We’re not going to intimidate our friends into voting how we want them to.”

“Maybe you aren’t,” he says, but he returns back to his place next to Pete and settles down to wait. 

The rest of his group - which seems to be comprised of Jim, Frenchie, Pete, Fang, and Oluwande - isn’t far behind him, though they each are much less dramatic about the whole thing. Wee John, despite his apparently new relationship with Frenchie, looks to still be on the more undecided side of things, his eyes looking back and forth between Frenchie, who’s sitting pressed up against him, and Ed. 

Ivan’s next to come up, followed by the new members of the crew. Stede’s not sure what to make of these four yet. He hasn’t really had the time to get to know them at all and so their leanings are entirely unknown to him. For all he knows, they could fall on the Izzy side of things with the belief that Blackbeard has gone soft. Buttons comes up next and honestly Stede has no idea which way Buttons is voting either. He’s an enigma, that one. 

The holdouts are Roach, John, and the Swede, all of whom seem the most likely to Stede to vote for Ed to leave. They all seem to be thinking deeply about their decision, but eventually they each come up to turn in their papers.

Stede lets out a long breath as the Swede returns to his seat. “That should be everyone, yes?” he asks and is answered back by a sea of nods. “Excellent.” He gives the hatbox a shake to mix up the votes, thereby ensuring that no one will be able to tell whose is whose - save Lucius’, of course. “Well. Here we go.”

Ed comes to stand next to him. He looks nervous, his jaw clenching, eyebrows drawn together, arms crossed. Stede tries to smile encouragingly at him and Ed gives a small smile back. Stede reaches into the hatbox, trying to hide the way his hand is shaking. It will all be fine, he has to remind himself. Whichever way this goes, they’ll still be together.

He needn’t have worried. As he draws out each piece of paper, he unfolds them to reveal circle after circle. By the time his hands scrape the bottom of the box for Lucius’ unfolded vote, the crate in front of him is covered with a pile of circles and one single, solitary X. He feels a tension he hadn’t realized was there release and he grins. “The circles have it,” he announces. “Captain Teach is staying.”

Most of the assembled group cheers with a few of the crew looking much more uncertain about the whole thing, but that’s it. The votes are in, all but one chose for Ed to stay, and there’s no going back now. Stede glances back to see Ed watching them with a stunned expression. Stede knows he’d been certain he was going to be kicked off. He’d been preparing himself for it really. But now they can prepare for a different future, one where they’re co-captains, going off on adventures, sailing where the wind takes them. There’s still some things they need to figure out - Izzy looms over them still like a thick storm cloud - but they have all the time in the world now. 

Ed finally looks at him, the shock still evident, but now giving way to a bashful happiness. He looks at Stede with wide eyes, his mouth open in what would be a comical oh in any other situation. Stede can’t help himself. He launches himself at Ed, his arms wrapping around Ed’s neck, finding Ed’s lips. Ed lets out a startled oof but he responds eagerly, melting into Stede. Wolf whistles surround them as they kiss, along with a few exasperated groans and one shout of, “Get a room!”

When they break apart, Stede doesn’t go far. He tucks himself against Ed, wrapping his arm around his waist, Ed doing the same around Stede’s shoulders. Stede can’t wipe the giddy grin off of his face as he says, “Well, that’s it, then. We’ll stay anchored here for another night, so feel free to take off for the island or stay on the ship or whatever takes your fancy. Our piratical operations will begin again in the morning.” He’s about to drag Ed back into the cabin for another lengthy makeout session that will hopefully turn into something more, but just before he does, he remembers. “Oh, and please don’t try to seek out the individual who voted for Ed to leave. We’re all entitled to our opinions and thoughts and feelings and I don’t want anyone trying to retaliate against someone for not voting the way you wanted them to. The opportunity to leave the crew does still stand for whoever you are, so if you would like to do that, come and fine me and I’ll arrange for that to happen. Now. Dismissed.”

The group disperses. Stede gives Ed a significant look and Ed grins. They disappear back into the cabin with a click of the lock.

Chapter Text

The days that follow are filled with aimless sailing and laughter. The crew seems to be back in high spirits, excited to be together and relieved that the question of their captains’ relationship is resolved. Honestly, it feels wonderful to just be back on the sea, no mission or goal in mind, sailing wherever they feel. They’ll need to make port soon to unload some of their cargo and resupply - though the Atonement had just stocked up on everything they’d need, the Revenge hadn’t been to a port in quite a while and their rations are getting stretched rather thin across the two ships - but not urgently. 

Mostly, though, the days are filled with Ed. Stede falls asleep and wakes up in Ed’s arms. They eat together, plan together, and more often than not end up working together as well. In the evenings, after Stede has read to the crew, they retire to their cabin and spend the rest of the night together in whatever form that takes. There’s plenty of sex, of course, but also talking, snuggling, teaching and learning, and just being. Stede doesn’t think he’s ever been happier or more content in his life. 

The ring he’d stolen is starting to burn a hole in his pocket, though. He’s been carrying it with him, hoping the perfect opportunity to give it to Ed will present itself, but so far nothing’s seemed exactly right. Every so often he sticks his hand in his pocket to make sure it’s still there, to gently run his fingers over the metal, the etchings of the snake scales. He knows Ed will love it. Or he desperately hopes Ed will love it, anyway. It just feels like it needs to be a big moment, a significant moment. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but now it feels like more than just a gift. It feels real and lasting. Like a commitment. Like a proposal. 

When Stede realizes that’s why he got it - to propose - he feels rather silly that it’s taken him this long to figure that out. But that’s how his entire relationship with Ed has been, hasn’t it? Stede doing things before realizing why he’s doing them. That’s how this seems to go for him. He’s just glad he didn’t give Ed the ring before he realized it because now he can make it a proper proposal and not just an I-stole-this-for-you-because-it-was-pretty gift.

Before he can start trying to plan anything, now that he understands what the ring is for, Stede feels like it’s important to clear up the cloud that’s still hanging over the ship. So he finds himself descending down to the brig one afternoon while Ed is in his reading lesson. 

The first thing that hits him is the smell. He wrinkles his nose at the scent of rotting food and body odor as he closes the door behind him. He sees the source of the food smell immediately: rather than eating some of the meals he’s been brought, Izzy has elected to dump them around his cell. Stede can see mold growing on most of it and he feels his stomach turn. 

“Stede fucking Bonnet,” Izzy rasps from the corner of the cell. He’s torn apart the bed that had been inside, the mattress ripped with feathers covering a good portion of the room. There’s moldy food on that, too, Stede notes. “Should’ve known you weren’t actually dead. Fucking wishful thinking. Should know better by now.”

There’s a stark note of bitterness and hate in Izzy’s voice that nearly snaps Stede back to that night, Chauncey’s blood on his face, running through the jungle, being terrorized by his ghosts. He grits his teeth and forces himself back to the present. “Sorry to disappoint,” he says dryly. Not wanting to waste any more time down here than he has to, Stede says, “We have to talk about Ed.”

Despite his malnutritioned state, anger seems to fuel Izzy up to his feet. He’s definitely lost weight. His hair is greasy and messy, his clothes rumpled and stained. He kicks a plate that had been overturned next to him - that day’s lunch no doubt - and it hits the bars of the cell with a sharp clang. “There is no Ed,” he hisses, his fingers curled into fists at his side. “There’s Blackbeard, or there is nothing."

“Interesting logic there,” Stede comments dryly. “See, but I know you’ve known Ed a long time. I know you came up with him. Which means you knew him before he was Blackbeard. When he was just a kid looking for a place to belong. Looking for people who would stick around and take care of him.”

“He was always Blackbeard, even before he had the name.” Izzy stalks forward, wrapping his hands around the bars. Stede doesn’t move, staying within arm’s reach of the cell, his hands behind his back. “He’s never needed anybody to take care of him, like a fucking child.”

“He was 15 when he left home. He was a child.” 

“I was younger when I left,” Izzy sneers.

“And look at what a well-adjusted, level-headed individual you became,” Stede says. “Ed’s told me what you’ve done for him. How you got him through difficult times and managed his moods. How you acted as a buffer between him and his crew so he didn’t have to watch person after person die or leave. How you gave him the attention he craves, and just enough affection to make him feel like you could be friends, if you weren’t his first mate. How you guided him through those first years as a sailor, and again as a new captain.” Stede cocks his head. “Is that not taking care of him, Izzy?”

Izzy pulls his lips back, gritting his teeth in a silent snarl, but he says nothing. Stede can tell he’s getting close to the real issue at hand. “What I would love to know is why you’re trying to erase those early years. Why is Ed so terrifying to you? He wasn’t Blackbeard then. He was a kid. From what he’s told me, it wasn’t until he was in his 20s that he started going by that name. That’s a good long time for you to be pretending didn’t happen.”

Izzy’s eyes flash. “I’m not fucking pretending—”

"Ten years, Israel. Ten years you knew him as Ed. Knew him as a boy mourning his mother. An adolescent trying to figure out how to grow up. A pirate trying to garner respect and fear, because he thought he couldn’t have love.” Stede takes a step closer. “Tell me, Izzy, when did you two break up? Was it before or after he started going by Blackbeard?”

“Don’t you fucking talk to me about that like you know anything about us.” Izzy shoots his arm out, trying to grab Stede’s shirt, but Stede lithely steps away.

“Before. I thought so.” Izzy actually growls at him. “And was it before or after that when you started to make Blackbeard believe that he needed you?” Stede waits, though he certainly doesn’t expect an answer. “I’m going to take your silence to mean you started that little trick after he broke up with you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Bonnet.” Izzy’s eyes flash dangerously. He looks like he wants to tear Stede’s throat out with his teeth. “You shut your fucking stupid mouth.”

Stede turns around and takes a few steps away from the cell to peer out the window. He hears Izzy shake the bars in anger, but he’s not concerned. He knows how well-made they are. “It never made sense to me,” he says, watching the waves cresting around them. “How devoted Ed is to you. You are not a pleasant man, Israel. You aren’t kind or affectionate, you treat the people around you like they’re dog shit you stepped in. You certainly aren’t supportive.” Stede turns around, leaning back against the wall. “So why has Ed been so desperate to keep you around? We both know he’s brilliant. Intelligent and witty, strategic, creative. How does someone so brilliant keep reaching for the poisoned drink sitting right in front of him and not understand that's what’s making him sick?”

Stede pauses, waiting to see if Izzy can understand where he’s going with this. Izzy’s eyes are narrowed in anger, but he says nothing. “And then I met Jack," Stede continues, unable to help the way his lip curls when he says that name. “Supposedly one of Ed’s closest friends. Another person who came up with him, was there since the beginning. Someone who should, by all rights, care about Ed at least a little. And yet.” Stede grimaces, remembering Ed clinging to him, shaking. “Here’s another person that Ed loves who treats him like absolute shit. The way he looked at Jack.” Stede balls his hands into fists. “The giddiness and excitement. He let Jack walk over him, myself, and our entire crew, completely changed his personality to be someone Jack would find entertaining, all to get his attention. And I finally got it.” He approaches the cell again with slow steps. “I finally understood a facet of Ed that in all your years together, you somehow never saw.”

“Fuck you,” Izzy snaps. “I know him. I know everything about him. I know him down to his bones, to his soul. I know things about him that you could never fucking understand.”

“No.” Stede steps right up to the bars, looking down his nose at Izzy. “You know the mask he’s worn for decades. You know enough about who’s under there to keep that mask in place. But you never truly understood him. That’s part of the reason why you hate me, isn’t it? Because I understand who he is beneath the mask in a way you never did. It’s why I get to keep him and you don’t. He dumped you because you couldn’t figure out what he really needs in a partner. What he craves from the people he cares about.”

“He dumped me because he got bored," Izzy says, his voice low. “Just like he always does. Just like he will with you.”

Stede smiles. “You know, that probably would have worked to chase me off a few months ago, but I’m a different man now. You really missed your opportunity with that one.” Stede curls his hand around one of the bars. “I have the answer you’ve been looking for, by the way. What you’ve been wondering about since the beginning.”

“Why the fuck you think anyone cares what comes out of your cunt of a mouth?”

“What did I do to ingratiate Ed to myself so quickly and so completely?” Stede sees Izzy’s knuckles whiten as he grips the bars harder, baring his teeth. Stede shrugs. “I was kind to him.”

Izzy growls in frustration. “The fuck kind of answer is that, Bonnet?”

Stede grins. Despite his hostility and hate and vitriol, Stede knows that Izzy has been trying to figure this out, and he’d known that this answer would never be good enough for Izzy. “The truth,” Stede says. He shifts his weight to one side. “I was kind to him. You hate that, don’t you? Such a simple answer. Sure, we’re wordbonded and there was already a connection there, but Ed doesn’t really do friendship easily, does he? He keeps his distance from most people. He avoids any possibility of being vulnerable. Your mistake is thinking that he wants it to be that way.”

"He always did, before you fucking came along.”

Stede can’t help but laugh at that. “Really? You’re sure about that?” He leans in, trying to ignore the reek of unwashed man wafting up from Izzy. “Let me tell you a little secret then. Ed is absolutely desperate for love. He craves it. He wants gentleness and affection and kindness more than anything. That's why he kept you and Jack around. Because you tossed him enough scraps to keep him hungry for it, but convinced him that they were all he would ever get.”

Izzy chuckles darkly. “Out here, that’s what gets you fucking killed. There’s no room for any of that fucking bullshit in our world.”

“Nor was there in the world I grew up in,” Stede says. “But fuck the world. It’s an unfair, cruel place. So why shouldn’t we be able to have a place that isn’t? The world treats us like shit, but we don’t have to do the same to each other.”

Izzy stares at him for a moment before rolling his eyes. He backs away from the bars, turning to pace the cell. “So, what? You want us all to hold hands and sing Kumbaya? What the fuck is the point of all this, Bonnet?”

“The point, Israel,” Stede says, “is to try to get you to understand that this is good. I know that it terrifies you, but Ed taking off the mask of Blackbeard is what he needs. It doesn’t make him weak or pathetic or any of the other horrible things you’ve told him. It makes him happy. You love him. Don’t you want him to be happy?”

Izzy’s frozen in the center of the cell. He slowly turns around, his face twisted into hatred. “I’m not fucking terrified of Edward.”

“Oh, Izzy,” Stede says, tilting his head to the side. “Of course you are.”

Izzy propels to the bars of the cell, reaching through and grabbing Stede’s shirt. He pulls Stede in almost nose to nose. His breath is rancid as he grits out, “I’m not. Fucking. Scared.” But the wildness behind his eyes gives him away.

“You’ve never been more scared of anything in your life,” Stede says calmly. 

Izzy grins nastily, baring his teeth. “And what makes you think that?”

“Because you know that Ed doesn’t need you the way Blackbeard did.” Izzy’s hands tighten on Stede’s shirt. “And you think that if he doesn’t need you, he won’t want you around anymore.”

From the startled look on Izzy’s face, Stede knows he’s hit the nail right on the head. Izzy shoves him back, turning to stomp away. “You’re fucking wrong. You don’t know a fucking goddamn thing about me.”

“You love Ed,” Stede says again. “You’ve loved him for a long time. It broke your heart when you split. Ed didn’t need you. You didn’t give Ed what he needed. You couldn’t, because you didn’t understand it yourself. But you—”

“Shut up," Izzy snaps. 

“Still wanted to be with him. So you did the only thing you could.”

Izzy whirls around. “Shut the fuck up!”

“You threw yourself into being his first mate. You made yourself indispensable. You made Blackbeard need you in a way Ed never did.”

“Bonnet, I swear to fucking Christ—”

“But you know—”

Izzy picks up the plate he kicked before and whips it at Stede. It bounces off the bars loudly but harmlessly. “ Bonnet—”

“You know that if Blackbeard’s gone, so is everything that made him desperate to keep you around. Ed broke your heart once. What’s to stop him doing it again?”

"Fuck you,” Izzy shouts, kicking the mattress. “Fuck you and your stupid fucking mouth that never stops fucking talking!” He drops to his knees and plunges his hand into the mattress, ripping out handfuls of feathers. They float around him in a haze as he tears at the mattress. It would be comical if it weren’t so heartbreaking. “I fucking should have torn you to fucking pieces the first time I met you, you fucking pathetic excuse for a man.”

Unfazed, Stede continues, “Ed loves you, you know. Maybe not the way you want him to, but he does. He doesn’t need you anymore, but he still wants you here.”

Izzy tears out one last handful of feathers and throws them to the side. “He couldn’t give less of a shit about me.”

“Of course he does. Why else would you still be here? The smart thing to do would be to kill you and yet here you are, still alive. You’re important to him.”

“Bullshit.”

“You could actually be friends, if you let go of your obsession with Blackbeard. If you let Ed just be himself.”

Izzy spits at him from where he’s sitting on the mattress, feathers strewn around him. It doesn’t even make it to the edge of the mattress. “I don’t have friends. Pirates don’t have friends.”

“You could.” Stede steps back to the door where he’d left a bucket when he came in. He picks it up and sets it next to the bars, the water inside sloshing around slightly, threatening to spill over the edges. He reaches into a pocket and drops a cloth into the water. “You’ve got a choice to make, Israel. You can stay on this ship as crew, not as first mate, as long as you’re civil to the rest of the crew and to Ed. You’ll do what you can to make up the things you did to all of them. You can rebuild your relationship with Ed, build up a friendship to whatever level you want, on the condition that you treat him kindly and let him be who he wants to be.” Stede crosses his arms. “Or you can leave. I’ll give you enough money to give you a start, but that’s it. If you do anything to hurt my crew or Ed ever again, I will hunt you down and feed you the rest of your toes, and then your fingers, and all the other bits of you until you’re nothing more than a head and a torso, and then I’ll leave you to starve. Is that clear?”

Izzy sneers at him. “You don’t have the fucking balls.”

Stede smiles coldly, narrowing his eyes. It’s what Ed calls his “massive aggression face.” It’s sexy as hell to Ed, apparently, but seems to have a chilling effect on others. Sure enough, Izzy’s smirk falters slightly. “Try me.” Stede backs away a few steps. “I’ll give you a few days to think about it. When I come back, I expect you to have made a decision.” He walks to the door, pausing with his hand on the doorknob. “And clean yourself up,” he says over his shoulder. “You fucking reek.”

-

Ed is sitting at the table when Stede enters the cabin, papers strewn around him. He doesn’t seem to notice Stede come in, intently staring at the sheet of paper in front of him and chewing on the end of a quill. There’s ink on his fingers and lips and he looks so adorable that Stede stops in the doorway for a moment to take in the sight of him. Eventually he crosses the room and drops a kiss on the top of Ed’s head, sliding his hand across his shoulders. He peers at the papers, covered with practice letters and sentences in both Lucius’ business-like hand and Ed’s more shaky script. The sheet he’s working on now is a list of simple questions that Ed is supposed to answer in full sentences.

-What is your favorite color? 

-My favorite color is yellow.

-Where were you born?

-I was born in England.

And:

-Who is your favorite person on this ship (besides Stede)?

To which Ed has simply scrawled Fuck off.

“This looks to be coming along well, darling,” Stede comments, combing his fingers through Ed’s hair. 

Ed looks up at him and wrinkles his nose. “My handwriting is horrible," he says with a slight pout. “It’s not all pretty and swirly like yours.”

“All the fancy loops and swirls just come with practice, love.”

Ed frowns with a grumble. He puts down the quill and grabs Stede’s waist, pulling him down to sit on his lap. Stede’s heart swells as Ed kisses him sweetly. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to this. “Hello,” Stede says when they part, their noses brushing. 

“Hi.”

Stede traces Ed’s lower lip with a finger. “You know you have ink on your lips?” Ed’s fingers come up and Stede guides them to the spot. “Right there.” 

“I did not know that. Fuck.” He looks slightly embarrassed.

Stede kisses the ink-stained spot. “It’s cute,” he says and Ed smiles, his cheeks flushing. 

“What have you been up to, sweet?” Ed asks. He circles his hands around Stede’s waist, pulling him in closer to his chest.

“I, uh, went to talk to Izzy.” 

Ed’s fingers freeze where they were gently rubbing Stede’s back. “Oh,” he says slowly. Stede pulls back to look at his face. Ed’s mouth is turned down in a thoughtful frown. “You… How… I mean, what did you say?”

Stede sighs. “I just … I told him what he means to you.” Stede looks down, fiddling with the buttons on Ed’s shirt. “And I … I know we haven’t really talked about it, but I gave him a choice. He can stay, with conditions, or he can leave with the knowledge that if he does anything to hurt you or any of our crew, I’ll come after him.” Stede looks back up, uncertain. He really hopes he hasn’t overstepped here, but he only wants to save Ed the stress and pain of dealing with Izzy himself. “Is that … okay?”

Ed tips his head back with a heavy sigh. From the set of his mouth, Stede can tell he’s biting the inside of his cheek as he thinks. “I … I really don’t know, Stede,” he says finally. “I wish it hadn’t come to this, but it has and I…” He stops with a shake of his head.

“I know, sweetheart,” Stede says, pushing Ed’s hair behind his ear. “It’s a terrible situation all around.”

“I … I feel like if he wants to stay, we can’t just let him out without the okay of the crew, too.”

Stede smiles. Ed has a good point there. He isn’t the only person Izzy’s hurt on this ship. “I agree. I laid out some basic conditions, but I think we should also discuss what everyone else is comfortable with.”

“Should get everyone together before dinner then.” 

“Little talk it through as a crew gathering?” Stede asks, poking Ed in the side. 

Ed squirms away with the cutest giggle Stede’s ever heard in his life. “Fuck off, you’re so lame,” Ed says with a blinding smile.

“You love it,” Stede teases, kissing the tip of his nose. 

“Of fucking course I do,” Ed says. “Be an idiot not to.” He hauls Stede in for a kiss, one of his hands catching the back of Stede’s neck and the other slipping down to squeeze his ass. 

Stede swears all of his blood rushes down to his cock. It’s insane how turned on he feels all the time. He’s literally constantly just one ass-grab away from an erection. From the bulge growing against his thigh, Ed seems to be in a similar state of near-constant arousal. Stede pulls back from a kiss that’s quickly growing heated, tucking his face into Ed’s neck. “We really should go talk to the crew before Roach calls for dinner.”

Ed sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. “Just a quickie?” he says, pressing his hips up. 

Stede can’t help but nip at that lip, pulling it into his mouth, sucking and running his tongue over it. Ed’s hand drops from Stede’s neck, moving to rub agonizingly lightly against the front of Stede’s britches. “Okay, really though.” Ed’s lips are suctioned to Stede’s neck, almost certainly furiously working to leave a mark. "Oh fuck. You … you know how Roach gets if we start dinner late. Ed." 

“So fast,” Ed assures him. His lips brush against Stede’s neck in a tantalizing tickle. “Like, so fast it’s embarrassing.”

Stede bites his lip as Ed works diligently on his love bite. He really is just seconds away from straddling Ed and dry-humping him into oblivion. “We’ll have all night, darling.”

“Or,” Ed says, giving Stede’s ass another good squeeze, “we could do it now and still have all night later.” He gives Stede’s neck one last lick and pulls back to look at him. “And they can all just deal with it ‘cause we’re the captains and we’re busy.”

Stede moans as Ed increases his pressure on Stede’s cock. “I can’t deny it,” Stede says, reaching down to start unlacing Ed’s trousers. “You make a strong case.” A wide grin spreads across Ed’s face and Stede rolls his eyes affectionately. Ed will truly be the death of him. “Maybe you should have been a barrister.” 

“Fuck yeah,” Ed says, working on Stede’s ties now. “I’d have been fucking great at it.” Stede pushes his hands away briefly to reposition himself, sitting on his lap with his thighs bracketing Ed’s hips. As soon as Stede’s settled, Ed’s hands delve right back in. “Wouldn’t have met you though.”

Stede is momentarily overcome with the sweetness of that statement, Ed’s immediate dismissal of any life where he doesn't meet Stede, even if it would be a better one for him. “I wouldn’t say that,” Stede says thoughtfully. “We’d find each other. I don’t want to imagine a world where we wouldn’t.”

Ed shakes his head. “You sap,” he says fondly. “Are you another barrister then?”

“Mm, no,” Stede says. “I was thinking a client, actually.” Stede finally undoes the last of the laces and pulls Ed’s cock out. “There you are, love,” he says. He licks his palm and grasps Ed lightly, slowly stroking in a way that he knows drives Ed mad. 

“Fuck, Stede,” Ed groans, dropping his head to Stede’s shoulder for a moment. He shakes his head, his eyes growing hazy. “A client, huh? Oh. N-not very professional of me.”

Stede gasps as Ed gets his own hand around Stede, his thumb circling his head. “Well, you’d try to fight it, of course.” Stede tightens his grip as Ed starts thrusting his hips up into Stede’s hand. “Oh, here, let’s…” Stede scoots closer, lining their cocks together and wrapping his hand around both of them. “Oh, god, you feel so good, darling.”

Ed’s hand joins Stede’s, enclosing both their cocks in a tight heat. “But how can I resist you?” Ed asks quietly, his voice almost a whisper. His eyes are locked onto Stede’s, the deep brown of them enthralling. 

“Could lead to trouble,” Stede says breathlessly. “Doesn’t look good. A man on trial for the murder of his missing wife, fucking his barrister?”

Ed chuckles, the sound morphing into a moan as Stede starts thrusting his hips, the drag of their cocks together the best kind of torture. "Jesus, Stede,” he says and Stede isn’t sure if it’s in response to their roleplaying or the sex. Both, maybe. “We’d better not get caught, then.”

“I don’t intend to,” Stede answers. He’s fucking the grip of their joined hands in earnest now and he can feel his orgasm coming on quickly. “Fuck, Ed, I’m…”

“Me too,” Ed says, pulling Stede’s hips in even closer. “Come on, love.”

“Oh, wait, wait,” Stede cries, withdrawing his hand for moment to dig in his pocket. Ed groans in frustration at the sudden stop and he looks even more confused when Stede pulls out a handkerchief. “No cleanup,” Stede says, holding it over their cocks. He grips them again, starting up a quick pace, and it doesn’t take long before he’s coming, his toes curling into the floor. Ed comes moments later with a sloppy kiss.

Stede wilts forward bonelessly, laying his head on Ed’s shoulder. He feels Ed’s arms circle around his waist. “So,” Ed says after a few moments, his voice sounding tired and pleased. “Roleplaying is a thing, huh?”

“Apparently,” Stede agrees. Coming up with the story had been pretty fun. He could certainly see trying it out some more in the future. He pushes himself up and wipes them down with the handkerchief, tossing it to the side when he’s done. It did its job alright. They won’t have to change before heading up for dinner at least. 

“Did you do it?” Ed asks as Stede gets up and stretches. His hips are going to be stiff tomorrow. 

“Um, did you miss the part where I pulled your hair as I came and dug my nails into your scalp?” He looks down at his cock, now soft. “Looks to me like I did.” He tucks himself away and starts retying his breeches.

Ed stretches languidly, looking as comfortable as he can doing so on a stiff wooden chair. “No, love,” he says with a little laugh. “Did you kill your wife?”

“Oh!” Stede says, his cheeks heating up. “No. She ran off with her painting instructor.”

“Oh, nice,” Ed comments. “So Mary gets her happy ending in this world, too.” After a moment he stands as well and fixes his clothes. “Suppose it’s time to head out there and figure this dickshit out.”

“Hang on,” Stede says, reaching up to tidy up Ed’s hair. “Your hair’s a bit wild.” He combs it through with his fingers, adjusting the strands as needed until it looks more like its normal wild self, and not sex-wild. “There we go. Shall we?”

-

The crew is, to put it mildly, not pleased to hear that Izzy has been given the option to stay on the ship, but as soon as they hear that they’re allowed to contribute to the conditions of that release, they’re eager to participate in the discussion. It’s hectic and chaotic and more than once Stede is concerned about the glee his crew seems to feel at some of their suggestions.

“For the last time, reasonable conditions,” Stede says, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. 

Roach, who has just suggested skinning him every time Izzy insults someone, crosses his arms dejectedly. “Just a little bit,” he says. He holds his thumb and forefinger close together, about an inch apart. “Like, this much. Enough to hurt, but not enough to really do damage.”

“Oh, I like that idea,” Wee John says with the murmured agreement of several other crew members. 

“Little skinning never hurt anyone,” Ribs adds and Stede looks askance at her. These new additions certainly do add color to the group.

“No one is going to be doing any skinning on my ship,” Stede says firmly. “Not unless they have the other party’s permission first, and even then I would advise against it. We don’t need anyone to be getting infections here.”

“I mean, technically we would have his permission,” Lucius says and everyone turns to gape at him. “I mean, I don’t want to do any skinning, I’m just saying. If he agrees to the conditions, and that’s one of the conditions, he’s giving his permission.”

Ed snorts and Stede frowns at him. “Well, he’s not wrong.” At Stede’s continued glare, Ed blanches and turns to the rest of the crew. “Okay, you all heard Stede. Skinning is off the table. If you want to get your jollies that way, do it in your own private time.”

“Thank you,” Stede says. “I do like the idea of behavioral repercussions, though. Let’s think along those lines, just with a little less … blood. Oh, yes, Frenchie?”

“Maybe instead of skinning, he just has to take over one of the chores of whoever he insulted for a couple days?”

And so the discussion continues all the way into dinner and well into the evening until the crew has developed a comprehensive list. 

Stede doesn’t think that Izzy will take it well.

Chapter Text

“Go fuck yourself on a rusty sword,” Izzy snaps when Stede finishes reading the list to him.

Ed immediately bristles and he opens his mouth to tell Izzy to watch his , but he feels Stede’s hand rub his lower back and he clamps his mouth shut. “I really would prefer to not,” Stede says blandly. Izzy scowls from where he’s sitting on the torn-up mattress, pushed back against the wall so he can lean against it.

Ed had been shocked when he walked into the brig to see the state of the cell, but Stede had seemed unfazed. “Cleaned up a bit, I see,” Stede had commented, to which Izzy had flipped him off. And there were signs of cleaning when Ed looked more carefully. Several stains on the bed whose causes had been wiped away, streaks on the walls and floors where Izzy must have scrubbed with a cloth. He hates to think about what it may have looked like a few days ago when Stede first came in.

“Well, those are the conditions we and the crew have come up with. Questions?” Stede crosses his arms, his face blank, all business. Ed fucking loves seeing him at work like this. 

“I’m not fucking doing any of that horseshit,” Izzy says, his own arms crossed as well. “A full apology? No weapons? Giving each fucking idiot of yours a full day for them to kick me like a fucking dog?”

“Each idiot of yours too,” Ed says sharply. “Fang, Ivan, and the new guys. You treated all of them like shit too.” 

“And there will be no kicking,” Stede says. “We’ve already discussed what is and is not acceptable to ask you to do. It’s just a day where you have to follow their orders.” Stede glances at Ed with a smile. “Plus, if how our crew treats Fang’s little pup is any indication, if they treated you like a dog you would be pampered, really.”

Ed rolls his eyes but grins. They’d made port yesterday and Fang had come to Ed with a plea in his eyes and a little wriggling bundle in his arms. Ed had sighed but nodded and Fang’s face had glowed almost as brightly as Stede’s when he’s at his happiest. “But it’s your responsibility!” Ed had called as Fang had raced up the gangplank to the ship. “You clean up after it!”

The crew had taken to little Francesca immediately, arguing over whose turn it was to hold her or to feed her, sneaking her bits of their food, and smothering her with kisses and hugs. The tiny thing had been frozen with fear at first, but had soon enough warmed up to them, racing through their legs, begging for attention, and jumping up onto laps. It has barely been a day, and already she’s being spoiled completely rotten. 

Even Ed has to admit she’s a cute little runt, all puffy brown fur and big pleading eyes. None of them have any idea what breed she is; she’s a street mutt through and through. But after a bath and a brushing, her fur is soft and shiny and Ed maybe can understand the appeal of pets now.

Izzy makes an approximation of a smile, all teeth and no joy. “Is that what we’re calling Spriggs now?” he says nastily.

Ed clenches his hands. Izzy can insult him all he wants and though he’d prefer Izzy leave Stede alone as well, Stede seems well equipped to handle that himself. But Lucius has done nothing but treat Ed with kindness, even after the attempted murder, and Ed is not going to let Izzy talk about him like that. 

Still, he stops when Stede puts a hand on his arm, apparently sensing Ed’s growing anger. “See, that’s exactly the kind of comment that would have you taking over Lucius’ chores for a few days. A prime example, in fact.”

Izzy’s eyes drop to Stede’s hand on Ed’s arm. “So this is what you want, is it? To be leashed? To be Bonnet’s fucking pet?”

“I’m not his pet,” Ed says, “and even if I were, why should it matter what you think? Frankly, our relationship is none of your fucking business.”

Izzy leaps to his feet. “It is my business if he’s fucking breaking you.”

Ed feels Stede’s hand tighten on his arm and Ed leans into him, trying to assure him that that’s not what’s happening here. “Iz, I keep fucking trying to tell you, this is what I want . It’s what I’ve wanted for a long time. I haven’t been the man you want me to be for years. Decades. Maybe not ever.”

“Bull. Shit.”

Ed groans, shoving his fingers through his hair in frustration. “Fucking… You act like everything started to go wrong when Stede came around, but that’s bullshit. Things hadn’t been good with us for a while , Izzy. You know that. I was sad and angry for most of the last few years, and then eventually I was pretty much just sad and you had to drag me out of my cabin most days and you were angry and took it out on the boys and then they were angry and… Fuck, Izzy, don’t you get it? We were all so fucking miserable, and now we can actually be happy.”

“People like us don’t get to be happy,” he says with a grimace. 

“Yes, we do .” Ed feels Stede’s arm slip around his waist and he meets Stede’s gaze with a smile. “I’m happy. I’d wager most of the people on this ship are happy,” he says, gesturing above him to indicate the deck where they spend most of their time. “You seem to be the only person here who’s holding on to misery like your life depends on it. Right now, the only thing stopping you is you , you fucking idiot.”

“We’ve given you all the chances in the world,” Stede adds. “Many more than you deserve with what you’ve done. And here we are offering you another one, and you seem to just refuse to help yourself. You can still hate me, I don’t care. Just let go of some of that anger.”

Ed can tell from the sour look on Izzy’s face that they aren’t going to get any farther with him today. Maybe not ever. And sure enough, Izzy whips around and snarls, “Get the fuck out.”

Stede purses his lips and looks up to Ed. Ed nods and jerks his head to the side and Stede sighs. “Fine. I’ll leave the list here for you to go over if you want. We’ll give you another day.”

Izzy just yells, “Get. The fuck . Out!” giving a hard kick to the mattress.

Ed takes Stede’s hand and starts pulling him out. Stede drops the paper through the bars and follows. Once they’re in the hallway with the door firmly shut and locked behind them, Stede lets out a long breath. “Well, that went well.”

Stede seems to anticipate the way Ed sags into him, his arms already wrapping around Ed’s waist. Izzy is just … so fucking exhausting to deal with. “I just … I don’t understand what he doesn’t understand.”

“I know, love.” Stede’s fingers brush through his hair and Ed feels the calm that Stede’s touch brings settling over him. “Are you okay?”

Ed sighs. “Honestly, lately, just thinking about Izzy makes me tired, so after that I feel like I could sleep for days.”

“You want a nap?”

“Nah,” Ed says, shaking his head wearily. “There’s shit to do.” Ed straightens up, stifling a yawn.

Stede smiles at him, the fond little smile he uses when he thinks Ed’s being a little silly. “That’s the beauty of co-captains, isn’t it? One can take over when the other needs a break.” Stede tugs on his hand, starting to pull Ed down the hallway. “So come on. To bed with you, no arguments.”

“But I really should—”

“Dearest, there’s nothing truly pressing going on right now that I can’t handle.” They emerge into the late morning sun shining down on them. There’s a flurry of movement when they appear, the crew all trying to appear extremely busy with their tasks, like they hadn’t been just sitting around playing cards moments ago. Honestly, the cards are still sitting right there in plain view. “Stede carts him to the door to their cabin, stopping in front of it with his hands on Ed’s shoulders. “Now go take a nice nap, and no arguments. Captain’s orders.”

Ed rolls his eyes, but he grins. If anyone else were to try and boss him around like this, they would receive the business end of his dagger. But the way that Stede does it, firmly but still somehow soft, it … it really does something to Ed. “Yes, sir,” he says lowly, watching Stede’s cheeks flush a lovely pink. Ed steps in and gives him a lingering kiss before stepping into their quarters.

He starts stripping as soon as he’s in the door, dropping his clothes in a trail along the way. Stede would have a fit if he were here to witness such rough treatment of their currently shared clothing, but in Ed’s opinion, a few wrinkles never hurt anyone. He’s down to just his undergarments, shrugging on his usual red and gold robe, when he spots her. A little brown lump of fuzz curled up on the bed, snoring away.

“Hey,” Ed says, freezing, wondering what the hell to do. “Uh, that’s not yours, mate.” He glances around, as if a solution is just waiting to be discovered in one of the corners of the room, but nothing makes itself known. 

How did she even get in here? The door was closed - they always keep it closed; the last thing they want is a bunch of nosy pirates wandering in and out at their leisure. The only other person who really comes in here without summons is Lucius, and this … doesn’t seem like his kind of thing. He’s not really a pranker. He likes pissing people off right to their faces. Maybe she just slipped in without anyone noticing. 

Ed approaches the bed, eyeing the height of it and the size of the dog skeptically. How would she even have gotten up there? Does she have fucking springs in her legs? She’s tiny . 

It doesn’t matter, really, though. Ed’s real concern is that she’s in his bed, where he would very much like to be right now. In the middle of the bed, actually, taking up all the prime mattress space. “Hey, mutt, down,” he tries, but the dog doesn’t even twitch. He snaps his fingers a few times - that’s a thing, right? He thinks he’s seen other people do that. That does get her attention. She opens her little eyes, turning her soulful stare at him. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re in my bed.” She lets out the biggest sigh he’s ever heard, like the weight of the entire world is on her little doggy shoulders. “Fuck’s sake,” Ed mutters, “fine. Stay there.”

Grumbling, Ed pulls back the covers and does his best to wiggle into place between her and the window - his side of the bed. She seems determined to not move a single inch for him, making it harder to get in than it is even trying to climb over Stede to get out in the morning. At least he knows Stede won’t be completely flattened if Ed falls on top of him. This little thing looks like one poke might crack her in two.

Finally he manages to squish in and make himself comfortable, stretching out on his side, curving slightly around the dog’s body. It’s then that she moves, getting up with a little stretch, sticking each of her back legs out in turn. She turns her deep gaze back on him, studying him for a moment. “Oh, I’m sorry,” he says sarcastically. “Did me trying to get into my own bed disturb you?”

He jerks back as the dog pushes her nose into his cheek, sniffing and snuffling. Seemingly satisfied, she stretches again and turns around several times, her paws pressing into the blankets almost deliberately, like she’s trying to make it as comfortable as possible. Finally, she winds herself into a tight circle and sinks down, pressed up against Ed’s stomach. She seems to fall back asleep immediately, her breaths evening out. 

Ed sighs, surrendering himself to his fate, and closes his eyes.

-

He wakes up to Stede’s hand on his face as Stede bends over him, smiling fondly down at him. “I see you had some company,” he says.

Sure enough the mutt is still there, pressed against him, but stretched out on her side now. “She wouldn’t move,” Ed says with a frown. He flops onto his back, stretching his arms over his head. “How long was I out?”

“Almost all afternoon. It’s nearly time for dinner.”

Ed groans. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep that long, mate.” Almost an entire day, wasted. And no reading lesson either. “Ugh, I’m gonna be behind in my homework. Lucius is such a bitchy teacher, love, you have no idea.”

“I can imagine.” Stede hops up onto the bed, one leg dangling off, facing Ed. He idly scratches at the dog’s belly and she huffs and rolls onto her back. “Oh, you love that, don’t you?” he murmurs to her before switching his attention back to Ed. “I did come in a few hours ago to check on you, but you seemed so tired and the way you were all curled up with little Franny was so sweet, I just couldn’t disturb you.”

Ed sits up with a grunt and a scowl. “Well she wouldn’t move, so I didn’t really have a choice, did I?”

“You realize you could have just moved her?” With Ed no longer laying down, the dog gets up with a stretch and plods over to Stede, climbing into his lap and settling down there. Stede’s look of absolute delight draws a smile onto Ed’s face that he can’t help. “Oh, hello, little love. Did you have a nice nap with your Uncle Ed?”

“Uncle Ed?” Stede just smiles at him, scratching the dog behind her ears. “Didn’t know you liked dogs,” Ed says. Personally, he’s never really gotten the appeal. His only real experience was with the scrawny street dogs who would be more likely to take a bite out of a kid than snuggle with one. This one seems fine so far. Cuddly. Not necessarily a bad thing, though. 

“I always wanted one as a kid,” Stede says. He leans against the wall, smiling down at the ball of fur in his lap. “But my father…” Stede grimaces. Yeah. From what Stede’s said of his dad, Ed can guess what he thought of the idea. “Anyway, it’s probably better that I never got one then. Knowing him, he’d have let me get attached and then forced me to… You know, try to toughen me up a bit.”

“He sounds like a fucking bastard, every time you talk about him.” Ed swings his legs around to settle next to Stede’s side against the wall. “Almost wish he was still alive so I could show him just what I think of him.”

“Sweettalker,” Stede teases. “And when I got married I thought, maybe then, for the kids. But Mary’s allergic, so.” He shrugs. “Just wasn’t in the cards for me, I guess.”

Stede’s eyes are so sad and filled with childlike longing, Ed can’t stand it. He wants to give Stede everything he wants, everything he’s ever wanted. Everything anyone ever told him he was foolish for wanting, Ed wants Stede to have it all. He rubs gently at the back of Stede’s neck and Stede leans into him with a satisfied hum. “We could just take this one,” Ed suggests slyly.

“Take this one what?” Stede asks, his voice sounding somewhat drowsy.

“The dog. Let’s snatch her.”

“We’re not going to steal Fang’s dog, Ed,” Stede says with a laugh. “I think he may have a bit of a problem with that.”

“Mm, no fun,” Ed says, draping himself over Stede.

Stede’s eyes flash just the way Ed was hoping they would. “Oh, that’s what you think, is it?” he says. He pushes Ed back until he’s slumped against the wall, and then he snaps, “Stay there,” and Ed feels a thrill run through him.

Stede scoops the dog up and carts her to the door. “Sorry, little love,” he says, opening it and setting her down outside. “Things are about to get a little mature for you.” He shuts and locks the door behind him, turning around slowly. “So. Not fun, am I?” Ed shakes his head with a satisfied smile, which Stede notes with a raised eyebrow. “Better do something about that, then, shouldn’t I?”

And he does, taking Ed apart with his hands and mouth until Ed is a shuddering, boneless mess, his legs spread wide to accommodate Stede’s broad shoulders. He’s merciless until Ed is writhing above him, and then he slides Ed out of his mouth with a sinful pop , looking up at Ed and smiling that self-satisifed grin. “Still think I’m no fun?” Stede asks, his voice somehow managing to sound innocent.

And Ed, who has been brought to the edge and then pulled back repeatedly, steadily oozing out please s and love s and you’re so good s, lets out a long string of sounds that basically translates to, “ Yes , love, you’re so fun, the most fun, please, fuck, let me come.” With a satisfied hum, Stede redoubles his efforts and Ed thinks he literally sees stars when he comes, Stede swallowing every last drop.

-

Better than his word, Stede gives Izzy two more days to think about his decision. When it’s time to go talk to him, Ed gets as far as the bottom of the stairs before he feels like he can’t go any farther. Stede, a few steps ahead of him, stops when he realizes Ed has frozen and turns around. “Are you okay?”

This is silly. Ed’s been dealing with Izzy most of his life. There’s no reason he should be scared to go into that room now, especially not with Izzy behind bars and weaponless. Only he’s not really weaponless, because his mouth is the thing that’s done the most damage to Ed, isn’t it?

Ed starts to nod and then quickly shakes his head, sitting down on the stairs. “I don’t think I can go in there, Stede.”

Stede walks the few steps back and Ed scoots to the side so Stede can join him. There isn’t much room - the stairs are fairly narrow - so they’re pressed together side to side from shoulder to thigh. “Are you sure?” Ed bites the inside of his cheek and nods. Just the sight of the door is making his stomach twist with anxiety. “Hey,” Stede says. He feels Stede’s fingers on his chin gently turning his head to look at him. “What’s going on in that lovely head of yours?”

Ed isn’t sure how to explain it in a way that won’t sound pathetic. How the possibility of facing an Izzy who still thinks he’s destroying his life is too terrifying. How poisonous he can be. How Ed hadn’t realized until recently why talking to Izzy so often made him feel like shit. “I just … if I go in there, and he hasn’t changed his mind, I don’t think… I know he’s going to say things, and I know they aren’t true, but they still … they still hurt .”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Stede says with an understanding frown. “Of course. I completely understand.” 

“You do?” 

“Of course ,” he says again. “I’ve had my share of toxic people in my life. I know how frightening it can be to face them.” He takes Ed’s hand between his and brings it up to his mouth, kissing the back side. “I can go in and talk to him. You can wait here, if you’d like, or on deck or wherever you want.”

“But I…” Ed glances to the door, his stomach tightening. “Stede, I really should—”

“Ed,” Stede says firmly. “I won’t force you to do anything. If you want to go in, that’s okay. But if you think it will be bad for you, you don’t have to. That’s okay too.”

Ed looks back at Stede, at the love and concern in his eyes, the worry in his furrowed brow, and he wonders how he ever got so lucky to have someone who cares about him like this. “Why are you so good to me?” Ed asks.

“Because I love you,” Stede says without hesitation. “Because I want you to be happy. And it hurts me when you’re hurting.” Stede cracks a small half-smile at him. “It’s all for entirely selfish reasons, I assure you.”

“Oh, good,” Ed says with a weak smile. “And here I was worried you were starting to get all boring and nice .”

“Oh no, dear, no need to worry about that .” Stede gives him a soft poke in the arm. “ Someone recently told me that I’m not nice at all, so that won’t be happening.”

Ed smiles and sighs. “Okay. I’ll … I’ll wait out here.” 

“Okay. Do you want me to come get you if it’s good news?”

“Yeah,” Ed says thoughtfully. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay. I can do that.” Stede leans in and presses a kiss to Ed’s cheek, and then another to his hand, before standing up. Ed’s heart flutters at the sweetness of it all. Lust he’s used to. He can handle that - and they’ve been handling that quite well, if he does say so himself. But he’s never been with someone who treats him like he’s something precious. Something to take care of. It’s fucking wild, honestly. Stede gives him one last kiss, on the lips this time, before saying, “Well, best go get this over with.”

Ed watches Stede walk down the hall, admiring the poise with which he carries himself, the firm set of his shoulders. If there’s one thing that’s changed the most about Stede since he came back - besides all the romance and sex, of course - it’s the easy confidence that he wears now, where before it was all bluster and performance. Ed thought Stede was hot before, but he hadn’t thought Stede could somehow get hotter .

Stede pauses at the door to the brig to pull out his keyring and unlock the door. He glances back to Ed and gives him a little wave and smile, which Ed returns, before going in. And then Ed’s left to wait. And wonder.

After several minutes without Stede reappearing, Ed knows. If Izzy were going to stay, Stede would have come to get him. It shouldn’t take longer than this to ask him. But if Izzy’s going to leave, Ed knows Stede is going to try one last ditch effort to convince him otherwise, for Ed’s sake.

But honestly, Ed really doesn’t know if he would have wanted Izzy to stay anyway. They have such a long history, and Ed likes to think they were friends for at least part of it, but the last few years especially had been difficult. Ed hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d told Izzy that things were bad between them. There’s resentment on both sides, and the Stede of it all has only made that worse. It breaks his heart to think that such a long relationship - the person he’s spent the majority of his life with, now - is going to end like this, but maybe it’s for the better. All they’ve been doing is hurting each other in bigger and bigger ways. Maybe there’s no coming back from that.

After probably 20 minutes, the door finally opens. Ed lifts his head up from where he’d leaned it against the wall, watching Stede carefully. He can’t see his face, but Stede’s shoulders are slumped and the way he locks the door has a kind of finality about it. Stede turns to him with a grim expression and a shake of his head, confirming Ed’s suspicions. Izzy is leaving.

Stede walks over to him slowly. “I’m sorry, Ed,” he says with a sigh. “He’s a pretty stubborn dick. He wasn’t listening to me at all.”

Ed sighs too. “Yeah, he is that.”

“Are … will you be okay?”

“I… Yeah,” Ed says, and he means it. “Yeah, I will. Thanks for—Stede, is that blood ?” Ed rockets to his feet and hauls Stede in closer by his shirt. Sure enough, there’s a smear of blood browning against the cream color, near his neck, shaped almost like a fingerprint. 

“Oh, it…” Stede frowns, looking down at his shirt. “It’s nothing. Must have nicked myself while shaving.”

“Uh, no you didn’t,” Ed says, tugging at Stede’s still full beard. “Or did you just grow this whole thing back in, like, five minutes?” At the embarrassed look on Stede’s face, Ed says, “Yeah, forgot you had the beard, didn’t you?”

Chagrined, Stede says, “Maybe.”

“So? Fess up.” Ed pokes at the bloody spot on Stede’s shirt. “What’s this doing here?”

“It’s…” Stede bites his lip, glancing back down the hallway. “I just had to, um, demonstrate to Izzy what will happen if he hurts you or the crew.”

“Demonstrate,” Ed repeats. “Demonstrate how? Give him a good stab? I always thought he could use a good stabbing more often. Knock his ego down a bit.”

“I didn’t stab him, Ed,” Stede says, looking horrified. “I just cut off the tip of his finger.”

Ed glances back down at the bloodstain, still looking finger-shaped, and back up to Stede. “You what ?

“Just the pad of the finger!” Stede says, pointing to his own finger. “And just on his pinky. It’s not like it’s that important.”

“Jesus fucking Christ on a whale, Stede.”

“No, that was Jonah, and the whale ate him , so if anyone was doing the fucking, I guess it was the whale.”

Ed stares at him in disbelief. “Are you making sex jokes about whales after you just cut off Izzy’s finger?”

“Just a teeny bit of it!” Stede says, flushing. “Otherwise he wouldn’t take me seriously when I threatened him.”

“Fucking madman,” Ed says fondly. Seriously, how did Stede make it this far in life without people seeing what a lunatic he is? God, he loves this man. And then he remembers that he can actually say it now, so he does. “I fucking love you, Stede.” Stede’s face reddens even more as he smiles, this one his restrained little close-mouthed smile that Ed thinks happens when Stede’s feeling overwhelming happiness or love, but doesn’t think he deserves it. Ed isn’t even sure if Stede realizes he does it. And it’s cute as hell, but also makes Ed pissed off at anyone who ever made Stede feel like he has to hide what he’s feeling. He loves all of Stede’s feelings. “I mean it, I love you so much.”

Finally, Stede’s full smile breaks through, somehow brightening up the dim hallway. “I love you too, Edward,” Stede says softly.

Ed pulls him in for a kiss, a slow, soft, languid slide of their lips that has Ed whining softly into Stede’s mouth. Ed pushes forward, herding Stede back against the wall and pressing against him, slipping his hands down Stede’s back to squeeze handfuls of Stede’s amazingly plump ass. Stede squeaks at the feeling in the most adorable way and Ed makes a mental note to explore what else might cause that noise. Stede responds with a heavy lick to Ed’s lips and he opens and Stede’s tongue delves in, slipping against Ed’s own. Ed’s hands tighten, pulling Stede’s hips up and into his own, the frustrating grind of their cocks causing them each to break apart with a groan.

“We really shouldn’t do this here,” Stede says breathlessly, but his point is made completely ineffective by the way he’s hooking his leg around Ed’s.

And that gives Ed an idea. Maybe the best idea. He slips his hands further down Stede’s ass and hoists him up, using the wall to keep him held up. Stede lets out a surprised shout and clamps his arms around Ed’s neck in a vice-like grip, his legs wrapping around Ed’s waist. “Holy fuck, Ed,” Stede gasps.

Ed grins, pressing his hips into Stede’s. “Fucking hot,” he says before taking advantage of the now slight height that Stede has on Ed and latching onto Stede’s neck, sucking a bruise right at the crook of his neck.

“Oh, god.” Stede’s legs tighten around Ed’s waist, his hands clutching Ed’s shirt. “Ed, you… That’s…” 

Ed is suddenly presented with much more neck as Stede’s head falls back against the wall with a small thud. He licks a long stripe up Stede’s neck before biting down just to the side of his Adam’s apple. “Ed, f- fuck me, I…”

“That’s the plan,” Ed says with a roll of his hips. He grinds them slowly, torturously against Stede’s and Stede muffles a cry with a filthy, open-mouthed kiss that has Ed’s mind spinning. He starts moving his hips in a slow rhythm, enough to feel fucking fantastic, but not enough that it isn’t a tease. 

“Ed, love, you’re … you’re fucking driving me mad here,” Stede groans, his body trembling. “Will you please just … fucking … just touch me, love, please .”

“You want me to touch you?” Ed asks with a playful tease in his voice. “Out here? Where anybody could see?” 

“ Yes , fuck, I don’t care.”

Ed smirks and rolls his hips in one last, slow, glorious thrust before nudging at Stede’s legs. “Gotta put you down, sweet,” he says, his lips back against Stede’s neck. 

Stede makes an unhappy sound but unhooks his legs, allowing himself to be carefully lowered to his feet. Ed does feel strangely bereft without holding the entire weight of Stede in his arms, but Stede’s arms are still wrapped around him such that he’s nearly hanging off of Ed, and Ed loves the way it makes him feel desperately needed. 

“Ed, fuck , come on,” Stede urges, his own hips pressing eagerly up to Ed’s. 

“Impatient, are we?” Ed asks, but he gives Stede’s neck one final bite and then drops to his knees.

“ Oh ,” Stede says. Ed glances up to see Stede’s eyes watching him with hunger, his bottom lip pulled in between his teeth. Ed’s able to make quick work of Stede’s breeches now, after quite a bit of practice, and then Stede’s cock is bobbing out, thick and dripping. Ed wastes no time in getting his mouth on it, taking Stede all the way down until his lips meet his hand wrapped around the base. “Fucking hell , Edward,” Stede moans. 

Ed echoes the sound as he feels Stede’s fingers tangling in his hair, pulling gently. He rubs his tongue against the underside of Stede’s cock, up and down its length, before starting to move. It doesn’t take long before Ed can feel Stede trembling beneath him with the effort to keep himself from thrusting into Ed’s mouth and suddenly that’s all Ed wants. He digs both of his hands into Stede’s hips and pulls him forward, until he feels Stede hitting his throat.

“Oh, you…” Stede’s fingers tighten in Ed’s hair. “You want that?” he asks uncertainly. Ed looks up at him with a moan, swallowing around Stede’s cock, hoping it will convey how much he wants that. “Yeah, I… Yes , okay.” He gives an experimental thrust and Ed very nearly comes from that alone without a single touch to his own cock. “Oh, god.” Ed closes his eyes and relaxes his throat, reveling in the feeling of Stede fucking into him like this, Stede taking his pleasure.

“Your mouth ,” Stede says. His hands are a vice grip in Ed’s hair, tugging and pulling him wherever Stede wants him. “So pretty. So perfect.” Ed shudders in delight, snaking one of his hands down to his cock, rubbing against the aching bulge. “Like you were fucking made for this, love, made to take me.” Ed moans and shoves his hand into his breeches, grasping his cock. He was made for this, he’s pretty sure. Positive . “Here, wait.”

Stede pulls out and Ed automatically follows, but Stede tugs him around until their positions are switched, Ed still kneeling, but with his back against the wall. Stede stands over him, his legs spread slightly to plant on either side of Ed’s thighs. “Fuck, yeah, Stede,” Ed manages before his cock is at his lips again and he opens to allow Stede back in.

“O-okay?” Stede asks.

More than okay. Extremely good. Fucking fantastic. A dream he didn’t know he had coming true. With his mouth full of Stede, unable to answer back, Ed looks up at Stede and lets out a long, low moan, the hand not working his cock squeezing Stede’s ass.

“Fucking Christ , Ed, you’re so gorgeous like this.” Stede starts thrusting in earnest and Ed just relaxes his throat and sucks in his cheeks and lets him.

Stede’s hands and the wall behind his back hold him in place. He couldn’t go anywhere if he wanted to. It’s a strange feeling, but a good one. It feels frantic and urgent, like Stede needs him so badly he can’t help himself. It should probably be uncomfortable, frightening even, but Ed knows he can trust Stede to take care of him.

“Open your eyes, love, I want to see you,” Stede orders gently. Ed hadn’t even realized he’d closed them. He opens them now, looking back up at Stede, at his gorgeous face flushed with pleasure. “There you are,” Stede says. He untangles one of his hands from Ed’s hair and runs his fingers down Ed’s face. “So beautiful.” His thumb brushes over Ed’s lip and Ed keens. His hand working his cock speeds up and he’s so close, so fucking close. “You’re so good, darling,” Stede whispers. “So perfect for me.”

And that’s all Ed needs to tip over the edge with a deep groan. He comes hard and long, shockwaves rippling up his spine and out to his arms and legs, his toes curling. “God, darling, I love watching you come, all pretty on your knees for me. You want me to come in your mouth?” Ed groans and nods as best he can. “Fucking so, so good, darling. I’m … I’m close.” Ed yanks Stede’s hips in further and he feels Stede’s release hit his throat, his hips stuttering beneath his hands. “Fuck, oh, fuck , Edward.” Ed keeps his eyes on Stede, swallowing around Stede’s cock, working him through it until he feels him start to soften.

Stede pulls out and Ed grins lazily up at him. His cheeks are sore, his knee aching, but it was worth it. “That was fucking amazing,” he says. “You should cut off people’s body parts for me more often.”

Stede sinks down to the floor next to him, loose-limbed and chest heaving. “I did hope that would only be a one-time thing, but if that’s what you want, darling, how can I refuse?” He pulls Ed in for a sloppy kiss, licking into Ed’s mouth. “Fuck, I can taste me in you.” He pulls back, his expression suddenly worried. “Was that … was that okay? Fucking you like that? I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Fucking. Amazing.” Ed says again, punctuating his statement with a kiss after each word. “For you?”

“Phenomenal,” Stede says with a sappy grin. “Everything about you is phenomenal.”

Ed feels his face flushing and he’s just about to respond with something probably equally as sappy when a disgruntled voice from the top of the stairs calls, “Are you done yet? Because we’d really like to use one of the storerooms.”

Stede freezes next to him, his face draining of all color and then immediately flaming up bright red. “Fuck. Ed.”

Ed breaks out into a deep laugh before calling, “Yeah, give us a minute.” He heaves himself to his feet and holds out a hand for Stede. “Come on, love.”

They fix their clothes and Stede tries to make Ed’s hair resemble something normal instead of a tangled-up mess. “All clear,” Ed calls up. Stede turns to him, his face mortified as he hears several pairs of feet stomping down the stairs. Ed slings an arm around him, tucking him into his side and Stede buries his face in Ed’s shoulder.

Lucius appears first, looking simultaneously sour and like he’s just gotten the best show of his life. In tow are Black Pete, Fang, and Crooked Pete, who, Ed can admit, is fairly hot. But having two Petes in the mix just sounds confusing. 

Lucius runs his eyes up them both with a judgemental stare. “You know there are actual rooms on this ship?” he asks flatly. “Five on this floor alone. Maybe use one of them next time?”

Stede makes a sound like a dying elephant. “I told you we shouldn’t out here!” he whispers. 

“To be fair, you were almost fully wrapped around me at the time. It wasn’t very convincing, love.”

“Knew you were a bit of an exhibitionist, Stede,” Lucius says with a roll of his eyes. “You like to show off. A lot .”

“You did sound very into it,” Fang adds with a gentle pat to Stede’s shoulder. “Nothing wrong with that.”

“Oh god,” Stede groans, making the dying elephant noise again. 

“All right, I’m gonna take him up to our cabin to hide for a while,” Ed announces, rubbing Stede’s back. With a little bit of time, Ed knows Stede will get over this. And Ed suspects that Lucius may be onto something with the exhibitionist thing. He thinks back to Stede parading him across the deck the night of their dinner, the first time they had sex, and the smirk and swagger he’d carried. Something to explore again maybe. “Have fun. Be safe.”

“Aye aye, captain,” Lucius says sarcastically, leading the way past them and into a room down the hall, his partners following. 

“I’m dead,” Stede says, his voice muffled against Ed’s chest. “I’ve just died from mortification.”

Ed chuckles and kisses the top of Stede’s head. “Okay, dead man, let’s get you up to our room.”

Chapter Text

After taking a few days at the next port for a little shore leave and resupplying, they drop Izzy off with a bag of coins, a change of clothes, a little food, and his rapier. It’s a send-off with little fanfare and only Stede and Ed in attendance. Ed clings to Stede’s arm like a lifeline as Izzy stalks down the plank without so much as a goodbye. Ed feels his stomach clench and he just … he can’t just not say anything.

“Izzy,” he calls. Izzy stops with his back to them, his shoulders clearly tense. “It … it doesn’t have to be this way,” he says. He feels like he’s in complete turmoil. He doesn’t want to see his oldest friend - or whatever they were - go like this, but Izzy can’t stay if he’s not willing to accept how things are now. 

Izzy turns around and looks at Ed for a long time. Ed thinks maybe, possibly, he’ll change his mind. But then his eyes slide over to Stede and he says, “Yes. It does.” He turns around again and walks away.

And Ed feels a little part of his heart that he didn’t realize was still there chip away.

Stede tips his head down to kiss his cheek. “Are you okay, love?”

Ed sighs, leaning into Stede. “I don’t know.” He looks at where Izzy disappeared into the crowd. “But I will be.”

“Cabin?” Stede asks. “A little alone time?”

“Hm. Alone together time,” Ed amends.

Stede smiles. “Whatever you need.” They turn back from the bustle of the port and step onto the ship together. “I’ll just get things underway and I’ll meet you in there. If that’s okay?” Ed nods. Stede walks him to their cabin door and gives him another kiss on the cheek. “You go get settled and I’ll be right in.”

Ed nods again and heads in, closing the door behind him. He hears Stede call, “All right, gang, let’s head out,” his voice growing fainter as he walks away. Ed kicks off his boots and detours over to the table to grab some of the worksheets Lucius has him doing. Homework in hand, he heads to his blanket nest and burrows in, shrugging several around his shoulders despite the heat. 

His stomach is still twisting in knots so he shuffles the papers around and picks one at random. Impressed with his literacy progress, Lucius has him writing longer snippets now, usually answering questions that aren’t as simple as When is the next full moon? Though there are still certainly little jabs like that in the mix, and often there are questions not so subtly disguised as solicitations for compliments.

He bypasses What is your favorite childhood memory and why? , List your five favorite things about me, Lucius , your favorite person, and What other ways did you think about killing me? He pauses at List your five favorite things about Stede for a moment. Well, that one should be easy. He pulls it to the top and reaches for his quill and ink before pausing again. He has no idea what to write, not because he can’t think of anything, but because there are just too many things. His laugh, his ideas, his jokes, his energy, his … his everything . There’s no way he can limit it to just five. But why should he have to, just because Lucius said so? Fuck that. He’ll write as many as he wants.

He’s still writing, his letters growing smaller and smaller as he realizes he has so much he still wants to add, when he hears Stede come in. Startled, he flings it to the side, calling out, “Don’t look at this!” and sending the papers flying everywhere. 

Stede watches him from the doorway with a bemused look before stepping further into the room. “Okay, I won’t.” He waits in the center of the room for Ed to gather up the papers, the scribbled-on page stuffed safely in the middle of the bunch, before approaching. “I have to say, you’ve piqued my interest quite a bit, though, darling.”

Ed flushes, setting the pile of papers aside. “I’ll … I’ll show you, it’s just not done yet.”

“Then I’ll wait with anticipation,” Stede says with a smile. “Can I join you?”

“Oh.” Ed scoots to the side and holds the blankets open for Stede. “Yeah, course.”

Stede settles in next to Ed with a contented sigh, wrapping his arm around Ed’s waist. “You can keep working on it if you want. I won’t peek.”

Ed scoffs. “Like hell you won’t,” he says with a laugh. “Just like you don’t peek when we play poker.”

“Hey! I don’t!” He lifts his nose into the air, sniffing huffily. “I am a respectable gentleman, thank you very much, and I don’t peek at your cards.”

“Bullshit.” Ed jabs him with his elbow. “You just get that many good cards?” he asks in disbelief.

Stede purses his lips. “I just know when to fold and when to raise, Ed, darling.”

“No, you’re doing something,” Ed says, narrowing his eyes. “I can tell.”

“Intuition,” he says with a small smile.

Ed pokes at his cheek, at the little dimple there. “See, you cheat! I can tell.”

“I’ll never reveal my secrets.”

“I’ll figure it out one of these days,” Ed grumbles. “And then just you wait. Blackbeard’s not only fearsome on the seas.”

“Oh, I know,” Stede says. “I’ve heard tell of Blackbeard and the terror he strikes in the hearts of men at the poker table.”

“Yeah you have,” Ed says. He flops down into Stede’s lap, his head resting on Stede’s thighs, arms circling around his waist.

“Octopusing today, are we?” Stede asks. 

Ed adjusts slightly to look up at Stede’s face and smiles at the fond look there. He feels Stede’s fingers running through his hair, gently untangling any knots he finds, combing it through. Ed nods, squeezing Stede harder. 

“Anything you need from me?” Stede brushes back a loose lock of hair tickling Ed’s nose. “I’m here to talk, if you want to, or we can do something else, or we can just stay like this.”

Ed considers this for a moment. He doesn’t want to talk right now. He feels like he still has a lot to sort through about how he feels with Izzy gone. But he doesn’t want to just sit in silence either. “Read to me?” he asks.

Stede smiles. “Of course. Anything in particular?” Stede twists around to look at their meager collection of books. It's grown somewhat since Stede’s been back, but it will probably never return to its former glory, something Ed regrets every time he looks at the empty shelves.

“No,” Ed says, then jerks his head up. “Wait! Do we have that one with those two idiots that their friends have to trick into getting together? By your fancy guy with all the big words. Uh, Shakespeare, right?”

“Oh!” Stede nimbly plucks out a worn book. “Much Ado About Nothing!”

“Yeah. I like that one.” Ed looks up at the cover. It’s pretty ragged, not nearly as nice as the copy that Stede had had. Stede doesn’t seem to mind though, cracking it open and running his hand over the pages. 

“Do you want to follow along or just listen?”

Ed closes his eyes, settling back onto Stede’s lap. “Just listen.”

He feels Stede’s hand brush over his hair once again before he starts reading. 

-

The days pass by quickly after that. With long days filled with lessons and cuddles and raids and talking and sex, before Ed knows it, it’s been a month since Stede and the crew chased them down. An entire month since Stede has been back in his life. It somehow feels like forever and no time at all.

Ed wants to do something for Stede to mark the occasion. A month is nothing to sneeze at. It’s the longest real romantic relationship Ed’s ever had - the last, hopefully, if he doesn’t fuck it up - and it feels important to do something to celebrate. To show Stede how much he means to Ed. Like Stede had done for Ed with the dinner. 

And Ed wants to get him something, too. A gift. He has an idea, but he wants to make sure he does it right. Stede keeps giving him funny looks whenever he sees him conferring with Fang and Lucius, but he doesn’t try to butt in at all, just lets Ed get on with his plans. Ed’s so consumed with his own thoughts that he doesn’t notice Stede skulking around with Lucius as well, speaking in low whispers and shooting nervous glances Ed’s way. 

After several days of surreptitious planning on both of their parts, they dock in a small port for a few days. They sell off the loot they’ve acquired and stock up on necessities. Ed disappears into town for several hours with Fang and Lucius with a simple explanation of, “Errands,” to Stede. When he comes back, Stede is holed up in their cabin, with the door locked, oddly enough, so Ed has to wait to make his final preparations. Stede finally emerges a few hours later, flushed and somewhat disheveled - an intriguing look after having been in there presumably alone - and Ed sends Lucius off to run interference with him for a few more hours.

-

After dinner, Stede and Ed dismiss the crew for some time off, instructing them to be back by dinnertime the night after the next. Most of the crew looks giddy at the idea of nearly two days free. Lucius flicks his eyes between the two of them, smiling knowingly, before disappearing with Pete. 

Once everyone has vanished into the evening, Stede turns to Ed with a sly smile. “So. Entire ship to ourselves. However will we occupy ourselves for the next few days?” Stede brings his hand up to fiddle with the buttons of Ed’s shirt. 

“I’m sure you have some ideas,” Ed answers with a grin. Honestly, the way Stede’s looking up at him, coy and lips curled into a teasing smile, is almost enough to convince him to spend the rest of the night in bed with Stede. But he has a plan to stick to here. “But first. It’s a nice night. Join me in the crow’s nest for a bit?”

Stede cocks his head to the side and glances to the mainmast. Ed can almost see his thoughts, wondering why there, and assessing whether it’s a safe enough location to fuck in. “Okay,” he says slowly. “Sure.”

Ed grins, unable to hide his excitement, and takes Stede by the hand, leading him to the ropes. Ever the gentleman, Stede gestures for Ed to go up first, so Ed does, lithely climbing up as he’s been doing for around 30 years. He pulls himself onto the platform and unnecessarily scrambles to tidy the area up; he’d set everything up hours ago, and there’s only been a light breeze. Everything is still pretty much in place. 

When Stede’s head appears over the side, he freezes, his eyes darting around the small space. Ed has laid out blankets and pillows, a basket filled with finger foods, a bottle of wine, and two glasses. “What’s all this?” he asks in wonder.

Ed reaches over to pull Stede up. “It’s our anniversary,” he says with a shy smile. “One month.”

“I know it is, but I…” He crosses his legs, running a hand over one of the blankets. “You set this all up?” Ed nods, somewhat bashfully, and Stede smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “Ed, this is lovely. Thank you.”

“This isn’t all, though,” Ed says with a teasing smile.

“There’s more?” Stede glances around, as if something’s about to jump out at him or appear from nothing.

“Yeah,” Ed says laughing. “But all in good time.”

Stede seems to be melting into a puddle of mush in front of Ed. “Ed, darling, this is … this is all too much already. I don’t deserve this.”

“Hey,” Ed says, poking him gently on the nose. “No. None of that. I forbid it.”

“You forbid it?” Stede leans against the mast with a soft smile.

“Yeah. That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about, and I don’t let people say mean things about my boyfriend.”

Stede’s smile sharpens into something more playful. “Oh, very protective. What are you gonna do about it?”

“What am I gonna do about it?” Ed stretches his arms out above his head, making a show of loosening up his torso. He doesn’t miss the way Stede’s eyes drop to the sliver of skin that peeks out between his shirt and trousers. “I’m gonna do … this !” 

Ed launches himself at Stede, tackling him onto his back. Stede goes down with a whoosh of air, grinning. Ed digs into Stede’s sides with his fingers and Stede’s eyes widen before he shrieks, “No! Ed!” His shrieks dissolve into cackles as Ed tickles him mercilessly. 

The discovery that Stede is ticklish had been a surprise to both of them, which Ed found to be tremendously sad - in his entire life, no one has ever touched him enough to find out. Even Ed knows his own tickle spots, though he’s insistent on keeping that information from Stede until he discovers them on his own. 

Stede tries to twist away, but Ed’s got him basically pinned down. And there’s really nowhere for him to go anyway. The crow’s nest isn’t very big. “Ed, please!” he cries between laughs. “Stop, I’m begging you!”

“No.” Ed’s fingers travel down to his hip and the spot just above his thigh crease, where he's particularly sensitive. Stede jerks, nearly crying now through his laughter. “Not until you promise not to be mean to my boyfriend.”

Stede tries to wiggle away again, but it doesn’t work. “Okay, okay!” he says, pushing on Ed’s chest. “I promise! I’ll be nice, I promise!”

Ed smiles, finally relinquishing his torture. “There. Wasn’t so hard.” Stede is lying beneath him, his chest heaving like he just ran a marathon. Ed grins and leans down to pepper his face and neck with kisses. Stede squirms under him again, this time seemingly in delight. Finishing with one kiss to the lips, Ed sits up and offers his hand to pull Stede up as well. 

Stede is still grinning, his cheeks flushed deliciously. “You absolute dick,” he says happily. 

“You love me,” Ed says, nudging him with his knee.

“I do.” Stede’s gaze turns soft on him for a moment before he looks at the rest of the set-up. It’s gotten a little mussed as a result of the tickling, but the food and wine still seems to be in one piece. “Now. I believe you said there’s more?”

“Yeah. But first…” Ed grabs the two glasses - new ones, not as nice as Stede’s originals, but much nicer than drinking out of one of the tin cups - and the wine, uncorking the bottle with his teeth. He pours out two glasses and hands one to Stede. He also reaches over for the basket of food that Roach had put together for him and uncovers it. Inside is a selection of meats, cheeses, and breads. “Snacks?”

“Ooh, yes, please.”

The next hour flies by as they talk and munch and sip wine together. The sun is nearly set and their conversation drifts off to watch the changing colors. Stede is tucked into Ed’s side, wine in hand. He dips his head to the side to rest on Ed’s shoulder. 

There are times when Ed can’t believe that this is his life. That he can have this … this softness and love and companionship with another person. With someone as amazing as Stede. Here, in the orange-drenched sky, blankets spread out beneath them, the man he loves in his arms, the only sound the gentle splash of the waves and creak of the ship, it all feels like a dream. If it is, he hopes he never wakes up.

Stede sighs in contentment next to him. Ed presses a kiss into his curls. “Are you ready for your gifts?”

Stede practically leaps off of him, twisting around with a gleeful glint in his eyes. “Gifts?”

Ed can’t help but pull him in for a kiss at that. “Gifts,” he confirms. He reaches into the basket and lifts up the cloth layer lining it to retrieve two pieces of paper. “Okay. So one is, like, um, really not that special. Just, uh, something I was working on that I thought maybe you might like to see.”

“Ed, whatever it is, I’ll love it,” Stede assures him with a hand on his knee. 

“Okay. Um, so here.” He hands over the first bit of paper, folded in half and slightly crinkled from how much work has been done on it. He’s infuriatingly nervous about this, about sharing this with Stede. 

Stede unfolds it carefully and flips it around - must have been upside down. His eyes glance over the page and Ed knows he’s seeing an overwhelming amount of Ed’s chicken scratch scrawled all over the page, making it hard to read. His expression melts as he reads aloud, “‘List your five favorite things about Stede.’ Ed .” He looks up at Ed with the softest, most adoring look Ed thinks he’s ever seen. His eyes flit across the page again as he comments, “Now, I’m no mathematician, but I do think there’s a few more than five things on this list.”

Ed flushes and smiles sheepishly. “Um, yeah. I really couldn’t narrow it down to only five.” Ed scoots in closer until their knees are brushing. “There’s too much I love about you.”

“Edward.” Stede takes his time reading through everything. Ed tries to wait patiently, but he can’t help the way his hands fidget in his lap as Stede goes. At one point, Stede turns the paper onto its side to read the parts Ed had had to squeeze in sideways. “This is … this is by far the best thing anyone’s ever given me,” he finally says, looking up with tears in his eyes. “I love it. I love you . Thank you so much, darling.”

Ed fights the urge to hide his face behind his hands. “You’re welcome,” he says in a pathetically small voice. “I love you, too. In case you couldn’t tell from all of that,” he adds with a gesture to the paper.

Stede wipes at his eyes. “Yeah, I… Your boyfriend sounds pretty great, based on all this.”

Ed smiles. “He’s the best.” Stede reaches for his hand and brings it to his lips, delicately kissing his knuckles. Ed feels a shiver run up his spine at the simple touch. Stede carefully folds the paper back up and slips it into his pocket. Ed picks up the other piece of paper and says, “And your other gift.”

“Oh, that’s right!” Stede says in surprise. “‘Gifts,’ you said. Plural.”

“Yeah. We’ll have to pick it up tomorrow, but so you know what you’re getting…” He holds the other paper out and Stede takes it.

He opens it and freezes. His mouth opens and shuts a few times before he manages to croak out, “What’s this?”

Ed is back to nervously working his hands. “It’s a sketch. Of your present. Lucius did it today when we went to find one.”

Stede stares up at him in shock. “You’re getting me a dog ?”

Suddenly worried that he’s maybe gone too far here, Ed quickly says, “Yeah, you said you always wanted one, so I thought, maybe, we could get one. If you don’t want to, that’s fine too! We don’t have to get one.”

Stede continues to gape at him for long enough that Ed starts to panic slightly. He’s fucked it all up, hasn’t he? This isn’t what Stede wants. If he did , he probably would have gotten a dog a while ago, when he first started sailing. This was stupid, a completely ridiculous idea and—

“Marry me.”

Ed’s thoughts grind to a complete halt. “What?”

Stede is staring at him with the most intense look Ed’s ever seen. “Marry me? I love you so much.” He’s gripping the paper in his hands so tight it’s starting to crumple. “This wasn’t how I was planning to do it, but I… Please, will you?”

Ed’s throat isn’t working. “I…” He’s thought about marrying Stede in passing, sure, but never did he think it would actually happen. Stede’s eyes are shining at him, full of hope and love and Ed has always known he wants to spend the rest of his life with Stede looking at him like this. His heart pounds as he chokes out, “Yes.”

The corners of Stede’s mouth lift. “Yes?”

Ed breaks out into a grin. “ Yes .”

Stede’s smile is nearly blinding. “Yes!” he repeats. He hauls Ed in for a kiss made awkward by their shared smiles, but still incredible. They break apart much too soon for Ed’s liking as Stede starts digging through his pockets. “Oh, where… Fuck!” He looks down out of the crow’s nest toward their cabin. “Fuck! The one time I don’t have it with me!”

Ed chuckles, slightly bewildered and also overjoyed. “You good?”

Stede points a commanding finger at him. “Stay there!” He quickly kisses him again and then practically flings himself over the side of the crow’s nest.

“Stede!” Ed peers over the side to see Stede half climbing, half falling down the rigging. 

When Stede less-than-gracefully reaches the bottom he looks up. He points that finger again and instructs, “Stay right there! Don’t move!” He races to their cabin, nearly tripping over an errant rope that someone’s left lying out.

Ed lays his head on his arms, watching over the edge, wondering what in the bloody fuck Stede has raced off to get. He doesn’t have to wonder long, because not a minute later Stede is bursting back out onto the deck, his hand gripping something small. He’s grinning like a lunatic and Ed can’t wait to spend the rest of his life with this insane man.

When Stede pulls himself onto the crow’s nest this time, he pushes Ed to sit up. “Okay, sit right there, just like you were. Good.” He arranges himself on one knee, fighting the smile off of his face to look solemn and serious.

Ed laughs fondly. “I already said yes, love.”

Stede shushes him. “Humor me,” he says. “I didn’t get to do this last time, and this time I actually love the person I’m marrying, so.” He takes a deep breath. “Edward. Love of my life. My North Star. My wordkeeper. I don’t know what I did to be so lucky to have found you, fallen in love with you, been forgiven by you for the absolutely idiotic things I did, and then on top of all that learn that we are quite literally meant to be.”

Ed can’t stop smiling, but he feels tears prickling the corners of his eyes. 

“You know the best of me, and the worst of me,” Stede continues. He looks to be on the verge of tears, too. “You know that I’m selfish, foolish. That I was a terrible husband and father, and not a great pirate either. But somewhere along the way, with all the mistakes I’ve made and the people I’ve hurt... For you to be here, sitting there, loving me, no matter if you should or not. I guess somewhere in my youth or childhood, I must have done something good. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and somehow you love me, and I can’t bear the thought of you not being in my life. So.” Stede opens his hand to reveal a small velvet pouch. He opens it and overturns it in his hand, something silver and shiny tumbling out. “If you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my days with you, loving you, caring for you, making you happy. Edward.” Ed looks up from Stede’s hand to his shimmering eyes and the tender smile on his lips. “My darling Ed. Will you marry me?”

“ Yes ,” Ed says, laughing through the tears running down his cheeks. “Yes, obviously , you fucking lunatic!”

Stede is crying too, his eyes rimmed red and nose pink. The smile on his face is pure joy, though. He holds out his hand and Ed can finally see that he’d gone to retrieve a ring. A fucking ring . Eager, Ed yanks off the ring on his ring finger and drops it into the basket. Stede takes his hand and carefully puts it on Ed’s finger with the same reverence and attention with which he tucked Ed’s silk into his jacket what feels like ages ago. It slips on like it was made for him. 

Ed brings his hand closer to his face to study it in the dying light. It’s absolutely gorgeous. Two snakes intertwined with gemstones on their heads and in their eyes. The detail is incredible, scales carved lovingly around the entirety of the band. “Stede,” Ed says, his voice croaky from the tears. “I love it. When did you—”

“Before,” Stede says. “When we were still looking for you. We stopped at a port and I saw it and I knew it was yours. I had to get it for you.”

“It must have cost a fortune, though. And all your money…”

Stede shakes his head. “Didn’t cost a single penny.”

Ed looks up at him. “You stole it,” he says, grinning. 

“I did,” Stede says proudly.

“God, I love you,” Ed says. He pulls Stede in and melts into his lips, at Stede’s hands on his neck, in his hair. He tugs Stede onto his lap, sitting back against the mast. Stede’s thighs plant themselves on either side of Ed’s hips and he runs his hands along their muscular length. “We’re getting married !” Ed exclaims when they break apart for air. 

Stede rests his forehead against Ed’s. “We’re getting fucking married ,” he confirms. “You’re my fiancé .”

Ed gives a shout of laughter. “Fuck off,” he says. “I’m your fiancé . What the fuck.”

Stede laughs with him before silencing him with his lips once again, his hand stroking back Ed’s hair. He kisses his way down Ed’s jaw, pushing his hair back further to suck Ed’s earlobe into his mouth. “You’re a fucking dream, Stede,” Ed gasps out, tilting his head to the side. He tugs up the bottom of Stede’s shirt, delving his hands inside it to the smooth, soft skin beneath. 

Stede responds by licking up the edge of Ed’s ear, causing him to shudder. His lips brush the sensitive skin as he whispers, “I want you inside me.”

Ed nearly bursts right then and there. “ Fuck . Yeah. Yes, I wanna fuck you.” He scrambles for the basket and reaches inside, digging around for the jar he’d stashed there. He pulls it out with a cry of success.

Stede sits back, smirking. “Presumptuous,” he teases.

“Prepared,” Ed shoots back, setting it to the side and pulling Stede’s shirt up, over his head and off. “Fuck, you’re sexy as hell, love.” He runs his hands up Stede’s chest, delighting in the softness still there over the presence of new muscle. Stede’s nipples harden as he circles his thumbs around them before ducking down to nip at first one, then the other. Stede, his hands furiously trying to unbutton Ed’s shirt, moans, his head dropping to rest on Ed’s. Ed’s fingers skate up the broadness of Stede, slide through his chest hair. “You feel so good.” 

“Feel even better with all of this off ,” Stede grumbles, tearing at the last of Ed’s buttons. He pushes the fabric off Ed’s shoulders, hands skimming along his skin and leaving a trail of fire. He ducks his head and bites into Ed’s shoulder, causing Ed to gasp and jerk. His hips buck up, his erection pressing against Stede’s, and Stede digs his fingers into Ed’s arms. 

“Fuck,” Ed groans. Stede lathes his tongue over the bite, nibbling and sucking a bruise into his skin. Ed barely has the presence of mind to start working at Stede’s trousers. As he gets them undone, he nudges Stede. “Gotta get up for a second, sweet.”

Stede whines but sits up. “Your knee?” he asks, trailing his hand down Ed’s leg to the offending joint.

“Not this time,” Ed says, gently pushing at Stede to get up. “Pants. Off.” He kneels and starts on his own ties, Stede quickly doing the same. It’s an awkward position to get them off, but they manage with only a few laughs and one near miss falling over the side of the crow’s nest. Ed catches Stede by the arm before he loses his balance and pulls him into his chest. This is probably not the safest place to be doing this, but it is thrilling , out in the open air, high up on the ship, where anyone could see if they happened to look up at the right moment. 

Pants finally off, Ed fixes the blankets underneath them and gives the mast a cursory run-over with his hand, checking for the potential for splinters. Nothing like getting a great big bit of wood stabbed in your back or your ass ( that kind of wood, at least) to ruin the mood. The mast is sanded down as smooth as can be, though, so he sits back again and tugs Stede back onto his lap. 

“Like this?” Stede asks curiously.

“If that’s okay?” Ed says, reaching for the jar. 

“However you want me, darling,” Stede assures him. He reaches down and takes Ed in hand, slowly stroking him. 

Ed squeezes his eyes shut for several moments, as Stede works him, attentive and purposeful. When he open them again, Stede is watching him intently and the look in his eyes nearly sends him over the edge. “Stede, love, fuck , if you … if you keep doing that…” Stede grins and releases him, and simultaneous relief and frustration sweep over him. 

“Come on, then,” Stede urges with a roll of his hips. “Fuck me, darling.” He takes Ed’s cock again and adjusts it so it slips between his cheeks. 

“Fuck, give me a second , love,” Ed moans. His hands clench on Stede’s hips, inadvertently opening Stede up more, and the head of his cock rubs over the pucker of Stede’s hole. “Shit, you’re already…” 

“Did a little preparation of my own earlier,” Stede says, grinding his hips down. 

Ed gapes at him. “ That’s what you were doing in the cabin when I got back…?” Stede bites his lip and nods. Fuck , Stede is really going to kill him. He pictures Stede lying on their bed, fingers working inside himself, opening himself up, planning for this. Jesus. Still, Ed dips his fingers into the oil and reaches behind Stede, circling him before easily sliding in a finger. 

“ Ed …” Stede groans, Ed thinks half in pleasure and half in frustration. 

“Just in case,” Ed says, finding that he’s able to slip in a second finger already. “Don’t wanna hurt you, love.” Stede groans but doesn’t protest, draping himself over Ed’s chest. 

He feels Stede’s lips brushing against his neck before he licks a long stripe up his tendon. “Have I told you how much I love your neck?” Stede asks, dropping kisses onto it between every word. Ed makes a sound halfway between a moan and a no . “It’s beautiful. Just like the rest of you.” He shudders as Ed slips a third finger in. Unimpeded, Stede runs his nails lightly down Ed’s neck. “I loved your beard, but I always wondered about what was under it. I thought it must be long and elegant, like the rest of you. And I was right .” Stede gasps as Ed angles his fingers to find the right spot. “Oh, Ed , that…” Ed crooks his fingers again and Stede cries out. “Oh, that … that is nice.”

Despite the way Stede is nibbling and licking and caressing his neck, Ed can’t help but laugh a little at that. “ Nice ?” he repeats. He rubs the spot again, succeeding in momentarily distracting Stede from all his pretty words. 

Stede curls in on himself, winding a hand in Ed’s hair. “So fucking nice, darling,” he says adamantly before pulling Ed’s head back and sucking on his throat. “But if you don’t get inside me soon, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“ So impatient,” Ed comments fondly. He circles the bump a few more times, Stede blocking his moans with his mouth at Ed’s throat, before pulling his fingers out. He dips into the jar for more oil and slicks his cock up. “Ready?”

Stede sits up finally, his hand still tangled in Ed’s hair, and nods. Ed positions himself against Stede and Stede lowers himself down, his eyes widening as he takes Ed in. “Oh, Edward , you … you feel amazing .”

Ed clutches at Stede’s hips, nearly overcome with the sensations of hot and tight and slick . “Fuck, love.” He breathes in sharply as Stede shifts slightly. “You’re incredible.”

Stede smiles down at him, his cheeks flushed and sweat beading at his temples. He takes Ed’s hand with the one not in his hair and brings it to his lips. He kisses the ring, and the area around the ring, and then the back of his hand and his palm and Ed can’t understand how Stede is real. He twines their fingers together and holds Ed’s hand to his heart. “Are you ready, my love?”

“Yes, sweet, so ready.” Ed cups Stede’s face and brings him in for a soft kiss, their lips sliding together, tongues pressing against each other. When Stede starts moving it’s with slow rolls of his hips that rip a long whimper from Ed’s throat. They aren’t kissing anymore so much as gasping into each other’s mouths.

“ Ed,” Stede moans. He releases Ed’s hand and wraps his arm around the back of Ed’s neck, using the leverage to lift his hips up and start fucking himself on Ed’s cock. Ed drops his hands to Stede’s thighs, feeling every clench and release of those fucking delicious muscles. “I… This…”

Ed nods, his nose bumping against Stede’s chin. “I know, love.” He plants his feet into the blankets beneath them, his knees bent slightly, and thrusts up to meet Stede. He shifts the angle until Stede cries out and yanks Ed’s hair, sending a thrill running down Ed’s spine. 

“Right … right there, love,” Stede gasps out. 

“Gonna come for me?” Ed asks. He can feel his own release building and he bites his lip, trying to fight it off for a little longer. He scoops up some more oil and takes Stede’s cock in hand, slathering it with oil. 

“Yeah, yes,” Stede says, his eyes screwing shut. He moans as Ed starts stroking him, Stede’s hips speeding up to match. “Ed, I … I’m close, I…”

“Look at me,” Ed says. Stede’s eyes open wide, the beautiful brown and green of them focusing on Ed. “Want to see you when you come, fiancé.”

Stede tenses and then he’s spilling over with a shuddering cry, his mouth hot and open at Ed’s jaw. Ed fucks him through it and isn’t far behind, coming with one hand tight on Stede’s hip and the other still gently stroking Stede through his aftershocks.

Stede sags against him for a moment before heaving himself up to sitting. He smiles with glazed-over eyes, brushing his fingers through Ed’s sweaty hair to push it out of his face. “Fiancé,” he says in wonder.

“Fiancé,” Ed repeats, wiping his hand on his discarded shirt so he can run the backs of his fingers along Stede’s cheekbone. 

Stede shifts his hips, Ed slipping out of him, and swings a leg over Ed as he tips off of him, tugging Ed down to lay next to him. Ed turns onto his side and traces down Stede’s torso. His fingers stop at Stede’s wordmark - his original wordmark - and loop across the letters. “My wordkeeper. My destiny.” He sees a few tears slip from Stede’s eyes and he reaches up to wipe them away. “You okay?”

Stede nods vigorously. “Just so … so deliriously happy.”

Ed grins. He runs his hands through Stede’s curls. “Me too. Happier than I ever thought I could be.”

Stede laughs suddenly. “We’re getting married ,” he says in disbelief.

Ed pulls his hand from Stede’s hair and holds it up. “Got the ring to prove it and everything.” He tugs Stede closer so that he’s lying partially on Ed’s chest. Stede’s fingers aimlessly trace along the lines of Ed’s tattoos, swirling through his chest hair. Ed is suddenly struck by something Stede said earlier. “Love?”

“Hm?” Stede asks, nuzzling his face against Ed’s chest. 

“Earlier, you said this wasn’t how you planned to do it.” Stede makes a noncommittal sound of acknowledgement. “What did you have planned?”

“Hm,” Stede says again, slightly teasingly this time. “Actually, I think I’ll just keep it a surprise. Do it for you on another special occasion.”

Ed groans. “Aw, really?” he says with a pout. “Can’t you just tell me a little bit?”

“Mm, no,” Stede says, kissing Ed’s chest. “Definitely not.”

“ Stede .”

“ Ed .”

“So mean,” Ed grumbles. “So mean to me, your wordkeeper and fiancé, who just gave you a very nice orgasm.”

“Oh, darling.” Stede tosses his leg over Ed’s. “You’ll survive.”

Ed pouts even more. He falls silent for a few moments, enjoying holding Stede in his arms, drawing his fingers along his smooth skin. Then, trying to hold back a smile, he says, “I’m mad at you, you know.”

“I know,” Stede says reassuringly. 

They’ve talked about this, about Ed’s complicated feelings, about how he loves Stede so much, but sometimes can’t help feeling angry many times. But that won’t do this time, because this time it’s something new. “You don’t even want to know why?”

“I’m pretty sure I know why,” Stede says, patting Ed’s chest. “We’ve discussed why until we’re blue in the face.”

Ed purses his lips, turning his chin up. “Nuh-uh. You don’t know.”

Stede props himself up, smiling down at Ed. Ed feels his face flush as Stede ducks down to place a kiss on the tip of his nose. With a teasing smile, he says, “Okay, why?”

Ed tries to school his face into something resembling quite cross. “Because I called dibs on that Chauncey fuckhead, and then you went and killed him yourself, you dick. You got both of them.” He shakes his head. “You’re a Badminton hog.”

Stede grins at that, a laugh bubbling up out of him. “You’re right. I’m so sorry, love,” he says, mocking sincerity. “Tell you what, any other Badmintons we come across, they’re all yours.”

“They better be,” Ed says with a playful pinch to Stede’s bottom. 

Stede yelps and laughs. “Handsy,” he says, settling back again.

They lie there together, mostly silent, enjoying each other’s company, staring up at the stars as they blink into appearance one by one. Ed doesn’t know if it’s the afterglow or his ridiculously happy state, or the presence of Stede by him, but everything looks extra beautiful that night. The stars shimmer above them, bright and shining against the moon. Ed thinks about all the nights to come that he’ll be able to spend like this, calm all around him, the man he loves in his arms, content to just exist. No universe, no fate, no meddling crew. To just be. 

Just Ed and Stede.

Chapter Text

Ed stands at the fo’c’stle, enjoying the wind whipping his hair back and the salt spray on his face. There’s nothing on the horizon except the sun and the clouds, not another ship in sight. It’s a calm day, breezy, surprisingly cool for the time of year. The crew is slacking off, as is typical for them, but Ed can’t bring himself to care. He’s too happy. He’s happy most days, now, but it’s different today. 

Today is their anniversary. One year since Stede got stabbed and nearly hanged on a Spanish navy ship. One year since Ed carried him to his bed and stayed at his side, the impossible feeling of rightness settling in as he looked down at the pale, feverish man muttering in his sleep. One year since Stede inadvertently swept him off his feet with his chandeliers and his secret closet and fancy clothes and lighthouses and absolute insanity. 

Stede is busy planning something , though what it is, Ed doesn’t know. He’d kicked Ed out of their cabin earlier with a lingering kiss and stroke of his cheek and has been holed up in there ever since. Ed is dying to find out what he’s doing, but he’ll wait like a good husband for Stede to show him in his own time. 

His fingers idly twist the ring on his finger, running over the ridges of the snake scales and the gems. He’s taken it off only once since Stede gave it to him, on the day they’d gotten married. Stede had offered to buy him another ring, since this had been an engagement ring, after all, and apparently only one ring isn’t good enough for rich people. But Ed had staunchly refused the offer, couldn’t imagine another ring in its place on his finger. Stede had chosen this for him during their separation, with the hope that he would one day be forgiven and worthy of the love of its wearer, and Ed wasn’t about to lose that sentiment with a new one. 

They’d waited until Ed had procured a ring for Stede to have the ceremony. It had taken several months of picking the jewelry off of corpses on raids and perusing stalls with varyingly dubious levels of legality before he found it. He’d originally been looking for something a bit over-the-top like Stede himself, but what caught his eye was a rather plain silver band, though thick, etched with flowers. The cost had been astronomical, so he’d sent Lucius in to distract the merchant (“Can I just say you have an absolutely stunning jawline? Have you ever been sketched?”) and slipped it into his pocket when  no one was looking.

The ceremony itself was small and short. Olu had presided, as the only other person on the ship who had at one point, albeit for only about 10 minutes, been a captain. The party afterwards went long into the night, even after Stede and Ed slipped away for some time alone.

Every day since with Stede has somehow been new and exciting, even when nothing happens. But Ed loves every minute of it. He loves waking up to Stede’s soft kisses on his forehead and cheeks, and even better are the mornings Ed wakes first with Stede in his arms, watching as Stede slowly comes into consciousness, grumpy at first, but brightening up with a sappy, sleepy smile once he sees Ed. He loves watching Stede at work, giving out orders or at the helm or studying a potential mark, planning out a raid. He loves sharing meals with him, sitting with him as he reads to the crew, sharing a drink in the evening. He loves falling asleep with Stede’s breaths in his ear, his weight on his chest, more often than not bare and still sticky with sweat from an intense bout of lovemaking. He loves drifting off with the knowledge that he gets to wake up and do it all over again the next day. 

He just loves so, so much.

Ed ducks through the door to head back to the deck, hoping that Stede will be ready for him soon. When he walks back out into the bright light of the day, the crew is mostly lounging around, some playing cards, some chatting, some taking not-so-surreptitious naps. Ed rolls his eyes, but he can’t really blame them. It’s a beautiful day, and their captains are distracted, and who wants to do work anyway? 

He’s just in time, apparently, because as he’s considering whether he should find somewhere for a nap of his own, Stede emerges from their cabin, his face pink, his shirtsleeves rolled up, and an eager look on his face. Ed’s heart swells when he sees him, as it always does, still. He wonders if that feeling will ever go away. He hopes not. 

Stede makes a beeline for him, nearly tripping over the Roach’s legs where he’s lying stretched out on his back, in what looks to be a deep sleep. Roach grunts, but Stede pays him no mind, throwing his arms around Ed’s neck when he finally reaches him. “Happy anniversary, darling,” he says when he pulls away. His eyes are shining. 

“Happy anniversary, love.” Ed takes Stede’s hand and kisses his knuckles, near his wedding ring. 

There’s a distinct groan from several crew members and Lucius drawls, “ Again ? What is it this time? The four-month anniversary of when you went swimming together for the first time?”

Stede doesn’t take his eyes off Ed as he says, “Of course not, Lucius, that was two weeks ago!”

“Oh, silly me,” he grumbles. 

Ed tucks a lock of Stede’s hair back. “A year ago today that we first met, actually,” Ed says happily. Stede beams back at him. 

He tugs Stede in for a kiss and a louder chorus of groans rises up, along with some boos. “Swear to fucking Christ, it’s like watching your parents kiss,” a voice - Wee John, Ed thinks - comments. Ed flips them all the bird over Stede’s shoulder and just pulls him in closer, his hand slipping to the small of Stede’s back. 

“Get a room!” Lucious shouts, from where he is literally straddling Black Pete. 

“Good idea,” Ed comments when he pulls back. “You ready for me, love?” he asks Stede, who nods. He looks nervous and excited all at once and Ed squeezes his hand in reassurance.

Stede leads him across the deck, calling out, “Goodbye, all! Please don’t crash the ship while we’re occupied!” Several people let out halfhearted acknowledgements before they’re through the door, Stede locking it behind them. 

Inside the cabin, it’s reminiscent of the dinner they shared so long ago on their first official date. There are candles and lanterns lit everywhere, despite the fact that it’s still bright out. Stede has laid out a robe - a new one, from the looks of it, purple with subtle silver lines of ivy curling across it - on their new couch, several bottles of oil and a few cloths next to it. 

“We’re gonna need that much slick tonight, Stede?” Ed teases, circling his arms around Stede’s waist from behind and nuzzling into his neck. 

“You’ll just have to wait and see what’s in store,” Stede says primly. 

“I can’t wait. This all looks lovely, honey,” Ed says. He kisses right below Stede’s earlobe before looking around again. There’s no sign of their little furball anywhere. “Where’s Annie?” 

Stede gestures to the auxiliary closet, which Ed can see now is slightly ajar. “She got bored very quickly with all of my preparations and has sequestered herself in there, I believe in protest of my lack of pets for her.” 

“Cruel man,” Ed comments. Little Annie - though not so little anymore; the mutt is growing significantly larger than Ed had predicted - had wormed her way into his heart more quickly than Ed would like to admit. She’s just so affectionate , seeking cuddles and pets and play and giving out wet doggy kisses like there’s no tomorrow. Ed had originally been a little weirded out by her being around all the time, but it quickly became apparent that as soon as they became … distracted , she had no interest in their activities and would wander off to do her own thing, which worked out for them well.

Stede turns around in Ed’s arms, looping his own around Ed’s neck. “So. I thought today I might pamper you a bit.”

“Pamper?” Ed repeats with a smile. “I like the sound of that.” 

“Manicure, pedicure, and a facial,” Stede says, cupping Ed’s cheek to swipe his thumb along his cheekbone. He starts walking backwards into the room, pulling Ed along with him. “A massage. But first…” He detours to the bathroom, untangling himself to open the door and usher Ed in. “I’ve drawn you a bath.”

Ed feels so cared for that he feels like he might cry. Any one of these things would be perfect, but all of them together? “Stede, you didn’t have to do all of this.”

“I know I didn’t have to,” Stede says, ushering him into the room. “I want to. I like doing things like this for you, Ed.”

“You’re amazing, love. You’re too good to me.”

“Hey,” Stede says, holding out his finger warningly. “What did we say about badmouthing each other’s husband?”

“No, I…” He sighs. “You’re right. Thank you for this, sweet.” He leans in for a kiss. “I love you so much.”

“I love you,” Stede says with a soft smile. But then he pushes Ed closer to the tub. “All right now. Clothes off.”

Ed feels a rush of blood head south, as it always does when Stede starts to order him around. “Oh, am I getting bossy Stede tonight?”

“Maybe, if you’re very good for me,” Stede says, taking Ed’s shirt from him and folding it carefully before setting it aside. 

“I can be very, very good for you, love.” Ed strips off his trousers and hands those to Stede too, his smallclothes following quickly. He stretches, watching as Stede’s eyes travel from his feet all the way up to his face. Ed flicks his hair over his shoulder. “Something the matter?” he asks innocently as Stede stares at him hungrily. 

“I did not think this through,” Stede mutters faintly, his cheeks pink. “You look delicious, darling.”

Ed flushes with pleasure. He’s half-hard already, and Stede hasn’t even touched him. “Thank you,” he says. “Shall I?” he asks, gesturing behind him.

“Um, oh, yes,” he says, blinking a few times. He holds his hand out and Ed takes it, stepping carefully into the tub. The water is absolutely perfect, just under what would be too hot. He lowers down with a satisfied sigh, submerging nearly down to his nose. Stede watches him fondly before saying, “I thought I could wash your hair, give you a bit of a scalp massage, but you should soak for a bit first. Have a nice relax. You can call me back in when you’re ready.”

Stede turns to go, but Ed quickly catches his arm. “Hey, wait,” he says. “Stay with me.” He doesn’t want to spend any more of this day apart. He wants to attach himself to Stede so tightly that Stede can barely breathe. 

“Oh,” Stede says, a small pleased smile curling across his lips. “Of course, sweetheart.” Stede pulls over the stool and sits, carding his fingers through Ed’s hair. Ed sits back, flipping the ends of his hair over the edge of the tub so that it hangs, dripping, over the side. He sinks down further, resting his head on the lip of the tub. “Oh, here,” Stede says absently. Ed rolls his head to the side to see Stede folding up a towel. He gestures for Ed to lift his head and carefully places it beneath his neck when Ed does. 

They stay there for a good long while, Ed luxuriating in the feeling of the warm water, Stede’s fingers in his hair, the light kisses that Stede lays along his jaw and neck and shoulder. He feels lazy with love and attention and he wishes they could stay this way forever. The water soon begins to go cold, though, and Stede urges him to shift, wetting his hair and carefully massaging soap into the thick curls. By the time Stede is rinsing out his hair, Ed feels as if he’s melted into the bath, a part of it now, his body fully liquid. 

Stede disappears for a moment back into their room and comes back bearing the new robe. He helps Ed get up and out of the tub, gently toweling him dry. Ed bites his lip when Stede strokes him through the towel, the soft fabric torture against his now fully hard cock. Stede cocks his head to the side. “I’m not sure, love. Should I let you come like this, or make you wait for me?” Ed can only let out a choked-off whimper as Stede grasps him more firmly at the base. “A quick one, I think? This is about spoiling you, after all.” He lets go of Ed’s cock and Ed nearly whines before his hand is replaced by the press of his thigh. Stede grasps the curve of Ed’s ass, pulling his hips in, as he gently orders, “Rut against me, love. Yeah, just like that.” Ed tucks his face into Stede’s neck as he works his hips, the drag of his cock against the muscles of Stede’s fucking fantastic thigh quickly building up his pleasure until he comes, embarrassingly quickly, with a cry. Stede’s hands slide up his back and he draws Ed’s head away, studying him intently. “Beautiful,” he declares softly, kissing the corner of Ed’s mouth. If Ed thought his body was liquid before, he has no words for how he feels now.

Stede carefully untangles himself from Ed and finishes drying him off. He holds the robe out for Ed to slip on, cinching it shut and tying it loosely. The silk is cool and smooth against his skin, whispering against itself as Ed is ushered back into their room and sat on the couch. Annie has deigned to join them now, curled up on one end. 

“There’s the little monster,” Ed comments fondly as he reaches out to scratch behind her ears. She opens her eyes, her head resting on her paws, and studies them. Unimpressed, she sighs and goes right back to sleep. “Fair enough,” he says with a chuckle. 

The next hour is spent with Stede lathering him with oils and creams and massaging his hands and feet. By the time Stede is kneeling in front of him, Ed is barely conscious enough to enjoy the sight of it. He’s working his fingers into the tight muscle of Ed’s bad knee, interspersing kisses and soft bites as he goes. 

“Love, if you keep this up, I’m going to be unconscious before you can fuck me,” Ed says, his voice drowsy and soft. 

“Oh, and who says I’m going to be fucking you tonight, hm?”

“Me.” Ed nudges him with his leg. “It’s my day, isn’t it?”

Stede smiles up at him. “Guess I’ll just have to fuck you while you’re sleeping then,” he says lightly.

“Mm.” The idea sends tingles down Ed’s limbs. Or maybe that’s the way Stede is circling his thumbs around that knot. “Okay.”

Stede’s fingers pause for a moment before resuming. “Is that … something you would like?” he asks cautiously, looking intrigued. 

“Yeah, think so.”

Stede sucks a bruise into the inside of Ed’s thigh. “Not really an ‘I think so’ kind of question, love. I don’t want to try it and have you wake up feeling like I’m … I’m taking advantage of you.”

Ed smiles and brushes Stede’s hair back from his forehead. “I wouldn’t. I trust you.” Stede’s eyes shimmer with tears for a moment before he kisses Ed’s thigh. Here, now that things are in such a good place, it’s easy to forget that there was a time not so long ago that Ed hadn’t been sure he would be able to trust anyone ever again. But Stede has proven time and again that he’s here for good and that he’s worthy of that trust. Besides… “The thought of it,” Ed says, shifting on the couch so his legs fall open a little more. The robe has long since been tented by his cock. “Waking up with you inside me. Your fingers, your cock. God, your tongue.” Stede moans, resting his head on Ed’s thigh. “It sounds so fucking hot, love.”

Stede takes a few moments to answer, looking like he’s trying very hard not to just jump Ed right then and there. “I’ll have to keep that in mind,” he says finally, overly casual in a way that makes Ed think he’ll be waking up tomorrow with a very nice surprise. 

Stede massages his way up Ed’s thighs before standing and pulling him off the couch. “Bed,” he says and leads Ed the few steps to their sleeping alcove. He unties the robe and slips it down Ed’s shoulders before directing him to lay on his front. Ed’s surprised when he feels bare skin against his own, the weight of Stede straddling him, his cock heavy and hard nearly nudging between his cheeks. 

“Well, hello,” he says, wiggling his hips slightly. 

Stede gasps and holds him down. “Fuck, love. Not quite yet,” he says, pressing his fingertips into Ed’s hips. 

Ed pouts, though Stede can’t see him with his face pressed down into the mattress. He moans, though, when he feels Stede’s oil-slick hands smooth across his back, pressing into his shoulders. Ed is a puddle again as Stede works his fingers into his tense muscles, loosening knots he didn’t even realize he had. Stede is slowly rocking his hips over Ed’s as well, his cock slowly working it’s way between Ed’s cheeks, torturously rubbing Ed’s own cock against the mattress. Ed isn’t even sure if Stede knows that he’s doing it, but he certainly isn’t going to say anything about it, in case he stops. 

Stede slowly works down Ed’s back until he’s pressing into the meat of Ed’s ass, kneading the soft flesh. Finally, he dips his fingers between the cheeks, circling over Ed’s hole. Ed moans and pushes his hips back, earning a chuckle from Stede. 

“Eager,” he says, pressing in. 

“This has been fucking amazing, Stede,” Ed says, pressing back further, “but it also feels like fucking hours of foreplay.”

“That was sort of the idea,” Stede says with what Ed knows is a cocky grin. He can just hear it in the smug bastard’s voice.

“You… Oh , fuck, you dick .”

Stede slowly, so fucking slowly, works him open. By the time he presses his cock in, Ed is a trembling mess. Stede stretches out on top of him, his front plastering to Ed’s back, his weight pressing Ed further into the mattress. He shifts Ed’s hair out of the way and kisses the back of his neck. “I love you,” he whispers. Ed feels his hands slipping along his arms, his fingers entwining with Ed’s.

“God, I love you,” Ed whispers back. 

Stede moves against him slowly, lovingly, in a way that has Ed writhing beneath him. Ed feels consumed, cradled, swallowed by Stede’s love, covered by him. He moans as he tries to decide whether he wants to rut against the mattress or press back to meet Stede’s thrusts. Stede makes the decision for him by deepening his thrusts, grinding Ed’s hips down with every move. He feels Stede’s breath hot on his neck and turns his head to the side, seeking Stede’s lips. Stede gives them to him, ready and willing, opening his mouth for Ed’s tongue to slip inside.

Ed feels his orgasm building quickly amidst the barrage of sensations. Stede’s lips, his heat, his weight, his skin, his cock, his fingers, it all combines into a crescendo that has Ed seeing white as a gutteral moan escapes him, swallowed up into Stede’s mouth. Stede fucks and kisses him through it, finally pulling back to say, “So lovely, my Ed,” to which Ed shudders and captures his mouth again. 

Ed’s pleasure found, Stede speeds his hips up, snapping against Ed’s in an increasing tempo until they stutter and Ed feels warmth spill into him. Stede groans, biting Ed’s lip, his entire body tense above Ed’s, before he wilts. He pulls carefully out of Ed and shifts to the side, Ed turning over to face him. 

“Fuck me, Stede,” Ed comments breathlessly, reaching out to brush back Stede’s bangs.

“Is that not what I was just doing?” Stede responds sleepily, his eyes closed. 

Ed smiles, but ignores him. “How is every time better than the last?” He drifts his hand down Stede’s side, his thumb coming to rub idly over Stede’s wordmark, Ed ’s words. 

Stede opens his eyes and smiles back. He mirrors Ed, running the backs of his fingers over Ed’s wordmark. “Probably because every day I love you more than I did the day before.”

Ed flushes, his smile growing into a huge grin. He buries his face in Stede’s chest. “Fuck, honey, you can’t just say things like that to me! Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

“Little bit,” Stede says with a laugh, kissing the crown of Ed’s head. “But seriously, somehow I do . When I think I can’t possibly love you any more, there’s nowhere else to go, I’ve reached the top of the love mountain, you do something or you say something or you just look at me and suddenly there’s more love there.”

Ed peeks back out, knowing exactly what Stede means. He never thought it was possible before, but he really does love Stede more every day. Every hour, every minute. He doesn’t think there actually is a top to the love mountain. “I get it. It’s the same for me.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” He slips his hand around Stede’s waist. “It’s weird, because I can’t imagine loving you more than I do now, but I’ll wake up tomorrow and I just will . What the fuck’s up with that?”

“No idea.” Stede kisses him softly. “But we have the rest of our lives to try and figure it out.”

“The rest of our lives,” Ed confirms, knowing his voice is just oozing with love and affection that should be embarrassing, but just isn’t. “My wordkeeper.”

“My husband.” Stede kisses him again. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

Ed tugs Stede in closer, wrapping his arms around him. “Happy anniversary, sweet.”