Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Technically, Ed was supposed to be teaching Alma how to navigate using the stars—and he had, for a bit. He and Stede and Alma had all climbed up the rigging and squeezed themselves into a configuration where they could all lay down on the maintop, and Ed had explained how to use a sextant to measure the angle of a star from the horizon, all the complicated math and calculations and plotting that went into charting a course. He even showed her how to use her fingers to measure by degrees if she was ever lost without the proper navigational tools. Though, he honestly wasn't entirely sure any of the technical bits really sunk in, because Alma seemed more engrossed by the sight of the heavens spanning out above her.
 
Eventually, the lesson turned into Ed and Stede telling Alma the stories of all the constellations they could see. Ed reasoned that learning the myths was a good way to remember the configurations of stars, but really, he just liked it when he and Stede could tell a story together, especially with Alma gazing at the heavens with wide-eyed wonderment.
 
"Remember how I pointed out Polaris? Yeah, there, right in the handle of the Little Dipper. See how the handle curves and points towards the Big Dipper?" Ed smiled as he watched Alma's pointer finger follow the shape. "The Big Dipper is also called Ursa Major when you add that group of stars there to its configuration, and the Little Dipper is Ursa Minor. Their names mean Great Bear and Lesser Bear."
 
"They don't really look like bears," Alma said skeptically.
 
Stede chuckled. "I don't think the Greeks were all that concerned with accuracy, honey. I think they made do with what they could. I mean, there's a constellation that's supposed to be a woman sitting upside-down on a throne that's essentially just four zig-zag lines."
 
"Still, then they could have made it anything else."
 
"The story is important because it helps you remember the shape of the skies, where they're placed and why, so you can find your way home," Ed said. "Now do you want to hear the story or not?" he teased, nudging her with his elbow.
 
"Yes..."
 
It was Stede who took the lead then, and Ed watched him fondly as he made broad, sweeping gestures across the black and purple sky, voice enthusiastic and light. "The ancient Greeks believed that Ursa Major used to be a human woman named Callisto," he said, pointing to the larger of the two constellations. "The god Zeus fell for her and they had a son together named Arcas." His pointer finger moved to Ursa Minor. "When Zeus' wife, Hera, found out, Zeus was afraid of what she would do to Callisto and Arcas in her jealousy, so he turned both of them into bears and flung them into the heavens. And now they can't be harmed, immortalized in the stars."
 
Alma frowned. "That doesn't make any sense."
 
"Well, I suppose it is a bit fantastical..." Stede conceded.
 
"No, I mean—" Alma shook her head, her look of awe fading away into a sort of frustration that Ed couldn't quite place. "Why turn them into bears?"
 
"Well, maybe because bears are quite fierce and formidable?" Stede said, clearly trying to play along.
 
But for some reason, Alma didn't seem amused. "But did they want to be turned into bears? Did he even ask them?"
 
"Er... well—"
 
Alma sat up. "Because he can't ask them now. He already did whatever the fuck he wanted."
 
Stede’s mouth gaped for a moment before he found his words. “Alma, please don’t use words like—” 

"And then he just threw them away like they were nothing! Got rid of them once his other life came knocking!"
 
Ed was starting to feel as though he shouldn't be here for this conversation. He froze in place, his palms beginning to sweat as the tension between Alma and Stede got thicker and thicker. Alma’s tone felt almost accusatory, leaving Stede stumbling and defensive. Ed had a feeling that this was more than an argument about some ancient myth.
 
"That’s not—He was trying to save them!" Stede sounded frustrated, like he couldn’t get the right words out. "They were better off without him, and he made sure that they were protected."
 
Alma stiffened, jaw flexing. "Oh, and are they supposed to be grateful?"
 
"Well, no, but—"
 
"Protecting something and running from it are two different things." Her voice was colder than Ed ever remembered hearing it, and something about it seemed to render Stede speechless. "I'm tired," she finally said after several moments of tense silence. "I'm going to bed."
 
Stede mumbled something that could have been a "Goodnight", and they both watched as Alma descended the rigging onto the main deck. She really was very good at that.
 
"Where did that come from?" Ed asked once he determined Alma was safely on the deck
 
"I don't know," Stede said, still looking a bit shocked by the quick turn in the conversation. "But I think it was one of those failures of parenting I was telling you about."
 
Ed put his arm around Stede's waist, pulling him so they both leaned against the mast, and Stede rested his head against Ed's shoulder. For a few minutes, they just let themself look up at the sky, feel the gentle roll of the sea below them, the stars above reflected in the calm waters below.
 
"Babe... you know that Zeus was the dick in that myth, right?" Ed eventually asked.
 
Stede groaned miserably. "Yes, I know.”

***

It took Stede a while to find Alma the next morning. Considering the fact that she had managed to hide on the ship undiscovered for weeks, Stede was beginning to worry. But ultimately, he heard tiny, protesting meows coming from the auxiliary wardrobe and opened it to find Alma there, sitting in a pile of blankets, pillows, and clothes with several books and snack plates spread out around her. Fruitcake rolled around in the corner, playing with colorful strips of fabric.
 
"Are those my silk ribbons?" Stede asked, affronted, as the cat batted at them, got her claws and teeth caught on the fibers, in the process of tearing them to shreds.
 
Alma just shrugged, not even bothering to look up from her book. "Maybe." But there was a tilt to her brow that made Stede wonder if she hadn't given the ribbons to Fruitcake in some act of retaliation for their fight (was it a fight? Stede couldn't really make heads or tails of it, where all that anger had come from).
 
Stede tried to summon a cheery smile. "Well, I was going to ask if you wanted any breakfast, but I see you already have that well in hand," he said, gesturing to the plates of food around her.
 
Alma rolled her eyes in annoyance, and something in Stede's chest twisted. "Mmhmm."
 
Stede cleared his throat. "Do you have any plans for the day?"
 
"Nope," she answered, turning the page in her book.
 
Stede faltered, smile slipping. "Okay then... I suppose I'll just... leave you to it." He tapped on the doorframe and turned to leave.
 
"Close the door behind you," Alma called after him.
 
Stede closed the door, letting out a deep sigh when it clicked shut. He just stared at his boots and wondered, what did I do?
 
He only looked up at the sound of Ed clearing his throat, sitting on the couch nearby. "Sounds like that went poorly."
 
Stede groaned, trudging over and flopping himself onto the couch, hiding his face in Ed's thighs. "I don't know what to do."
 
Ed's fingers threaded into Stede's hair, massaging his scalp. "Do you wanna talk about it? Don't know how much I can help. Like I said, I'm pretty shit with kids, but, you know..."
 
Stede sighed, turning his face to one side to pillow his cheek on Ed's leg. "I don't know. I think I'll just leave her alone for now. I don't think she wants me around. I'm sure I would just make things worse somehow."
 
Ed huffed and stopped petting Stede's hair. "Terrible idea."
 
Stede sat up abruptly to glare petulantly at Ed, who sat with his arms crossed, eyebrows raised in a challenge.
 
"What?" Stede asked, miffed he wasn't receiving the cuddling he so rightly deserved in his moment of crisis.
 
"You need to go talk to your daughter. Actually talk to her."
 
"I tried. She doesn't want me around—"
 
"Love, she literally stowed away on your ship to be here with you. I don't think you need to worry about if she wants you around."
 
Stede's protests died on his lips. He hadn't thought of it that way before. He'd always assumed that Alma just wanted a bit more adventure. He never considered that she might be here for him. "But she doesn't want... I'm just—" Stede scrambled for something to say. "She just kicked me out."
 
Ed's nose scrunched up and he took Stede's hand. "Are you familiar with the concept of acting out for attention?"
 
"After living with you? Yes," Stede said, unable to suppress a small smile. 
 
Ed scoffed. "Okay, well, maybe, but we're talking about Alma, and also fuck off," he said, only slightly miffed, the corner of his mouth twitching up when Stede ran a thumb over his knuckles. "Could be a part of that whole rebellious teenager phase you were telling me about, right?"
 
"I suppose..."
 
"And also, Stede, know that when I say this, I love you..." Ed began, now squeezing Stede's hand with both of his own. "But when the fuck has you running away ever made things better?"
 
Stede winced. "Harsh, but fair enough, I suppose. Did cause a few problems, that."
 
Ed huffed a laugh that was so fond it soothed the harsh edges of his words, leaning in to kiss Stede on the cheek. "Now go talk to your daughter."
 
"Fine."
 
Stede made a quick detour to the kitchen, and when he knocked on the door this time, it was with a tea tray. "Alma?"
 
"What?"
 
"May I come in, please?"
 
One, two, three seconds of silence while Stede held his breath.

"Ugh, fine."
 
When Stede entered, Alma was still sitting in her pile of blankets and pillows and other assorted fabrics. He was certain she was making permanent creases in his favorite suit. He tried not to stew on it and filed that under evidence for Ed's theory: acting out for attention.
 
"I thought we might have some tea," Stede said, holding out a cup for her to take, hoping it was received as the peace offering that it was.
 
Alma hesitated, her expression still guarded, but she took the cup, holding it close to her chest.
 
Stede smiled and lowered himself onto the floor beside her, leaning his back against the wall and setting the tea tray between them before picking up his own cup.
 
"Ed didn't make this, did he?" Alma asked, looking into her cup suspiciously. "I saw him put nine sugars in his cup the other day."
 
"He told me he's been cutting back!" Stede glared at the closed door to their quarters and resolved to have another talk with the love of his life about healthy sugar intake. He shook his head. Back to the task at hand. "No, he didn't make it. It's safe to drink."
 
Alma put a sensible two sugars into her cup.
 
They sipped their tea for a few moments in stilted silence before Stede cleared his throat. "I was hoping we could have a chat. You seem... upset, and I thought maybe we could talk it through?"
 
"Right, 'cuz you're so good at that," Alma grumbled into her cup.
 
Stede pressed his lips together. "I admit, it doesn't always come naturally to me. But I do think it's important."
 
Alma shrugged. "Whatever."
 
Stede took a deep breath to steady himself. "It seemed like you got quite upset about the story last night," he said, putting it out there like a simple observation. "Would you maybe tell me why that is?"
 
Alma stared into her cup, brow furrowed. "Guess the story about family abandonment just hit close to home."
 
Stede winced, his stomach twisting. "Ah."
 
"Yeah."
 
"I thought we— are you still—?" Stede struggled for words, for the right way to ask. "Are you mad that I left?"
 
"No... I mean—yes but— maybe." Alma set down her teacup on the tray in frustration, choosing instead to fiddle with something that had been sitting in her lap. She rolled it between her hands and suddenly Stede recognized it as her half of the petrified orange. Something about the sight of her with it tugged at his chest. "I know it's better that you're here. You're happier. Mama's happier."
 
"Are you happier?" Stede asked, tentative, unsure he wanted to hear the answer either way.
 
Alma hesitated a moment before saying, "It's better this way."
 
Stede hummed in agreement, even as a part of him deflated. "I'm afraid I've caused a lot of trouble for you all. More trouble than I'm worth, probably. You're all better off."
 
"Could you just—!" Alma made a frustrated sound in the back of her throat. "Stop saying that!"
 
Stede's mouth dropped open at that outburst, then clicked shut, stunned as Alma gathered her words.
 
"You said that you hope I don't turn out like you, or you'll say that you never did us any good, or that we're better off without you and I don't—" She made a wounded noise that stabbed straight through Stede's heart. "I came here because I wanted to— but you keep pulling away." And finally, finally, she met Stede's eye, something fragile there that Stede had never seen before. "Is it me? Do you not want me here?"
 
And oh, oh no. There was something too much like Stede's own insecurities in that question. It was alarming—Stede had never seen Alma as unsure of herself, as afraid of anything, really. She had always seemed so different from Stede in that way. But maybe she, like Stede, was a master of keeping that hidden. And suddenly he felt his whole perception of his daughter tipping sideways.
 
You said that you hope I don't turn out like you...
 
God, he had said that. When they discovered her on the ship.
 
God help me if you end up like me...
 
Stede had never seen himself in his daughter, really. Because Stede only saw the good in her, and when Stede looked at himself, he couldn't help but see his own faults.
 
But they were alike. They were both adventurous, enthusiastic, curious, impulsive—often to a fault. She followed in his bloody footsteps abandoning Mary in the middle of the night, for Christ's sake. They shared the good and the bad alike.
 
How much had Stede hurt Alma by dismissing those parts of himself?
 
"Darling, no! Of course I want you here," Stede said, his whole brain scrambling to rearrange itself. "I've been overjoyed to spend this time with you. I'm truly sorry if I've made you feel otherwise."
 
Alma shrugged, wiping hastily at her eyes. "'S fine."
 
"No, it's not," Stede said, placing a tentative hand on her shoulder. "I have a tendency to... run away when I get scared. I tell myself that others would be better off without me. You're allowed to be angry with me for that."
 
Alma seemed to consider this for a few moments. "I am angry with you for that," she decided. "But I don't know that I want things to change either. I think... I think distance is good for our family, actually."
 
"Maybe the big things don't change," Stede suggested. "Maybe we just try our best to understand each other."
 
Alma took this in before nodding once. "What did you do when you were mad at Grandpa?" she asked, catching Stede off guard.
 
"Honestly?" Stede fidgeted with the rings on his fingers. "I pretended I was fine, mostly. Pushed it all down, you know?" Stede made a shoving motion down with his hands.
 
"Oh..."
 
"I don't want you to do that, because when I did it, all I was doing was making myself smaller for someone else. If you're able to stand tall, then I’ll be satisfied." Stede chanced a look at her. Her eyes were wide and shining, intense as she listened to him. "So be angry with me, if you must. Feel whatever you need to feel. Don't shrink yourself for me."
 
Alma hugged her knees to her chest. "Really? I won't... disappoint you?"
 
Two weeks ago, Stede hadn't even considered that Alma craved his approval. Now, he was suddenly reminded of all the ways he so desperately wanted to prove himself to his own father when he was younger. His father had stifled Stede so much that he had felt crushed under the weight of impossible expectations, his entire life dictated for him. Stede had never wanted to do that to his own children. He had been laid back to the point of negligence, if he was perfectly honest, and yet his lack of attention only made Alma want to prove herself to him even more. The same poison in a different bottle.
 
Stede shook his head. "You could never, dear," he said, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "I made my mistakes in life because I just sort of went along with what I was supposed to do, without ever stopping to think about stepping out of line. And then I just looked up one day and realized my life wasn't something I actually made for myself. Because of that, when I did make my choice, a lot of people got hurt, including you. But you know what, dear?"
 
"What?" Alma asked, gripping her petrified orange so tightly Stede could see her knuckles going white.
 
Stede smiled. "I don't think you'll ever have that problem. You've always stood your ground, always spoken your mind, always known exactly what was right for you." Stede's mind suddenly went to a newborn Alma, gripping his pinky so tightly, demanding to be heard, and something in Stede's chest strained against his ribcage. "I trust you to do anything you set your mind to, dear. You are going to live your life knowing that it was something that you chose for yourself, and that's all I want for you."
 
Alma sniffled. "Okay." And then suddenly she was in his arms, and Stede was almost cradling her against his chest, like he so rarely did when she was young. He thought he heard a stifled sob. "Then I'll be super fucking pissed at you, and that'll be fine I guess."
 
Stede was too caught in the emotion of the moment that he couldn't even summon the care to scold Alma for her language. He just hugged her tighter. "I know we've never had a perfect relationship, and maybe we never will, and I'm to blame for that. I don't know how to be a father, really. But I do love you."
 
"I know." Alma squeezed back. "I love you too."

***

Ed and Stede had decided early on in Alma's stay aboard the Revenge that they would do their best to avoid conflict with other ships. They didn't track down ships to raid, they avoided commonly busy shipping lanes, they flew a false flag to disguise themselves as a merchant vessel, they came up with plans and backup plans in case of emergency. They had been successful in avoiding conflict in large part because of their caution, but it had also been down to just plain luck.
 
It seemed that their luck had run out.
 
They were about three days away from Barbados when the storm hit. Ed had been able to see it coming so they were able to skirt the edge of it for a while, but then it blew in properly and it was all hands on deck (except Alma, sequestered safely in the captain's quarters) to ride it out.
 
Ed had been a ball of anxiety the whole time. He had developed an instinct to deal with storms like these, and while he had certainly been through worse, he knew how quickly the tides could turn. And with Alma aboard, the stakes felt even higher.
 
The crew was in a constant battle against the elements for several hours, on shaky ground the whole way, relying on each person to execute their duties perfectly. They never truly got a break until the seas started to calm and the weather relented, and by then, they were all exhausted. The ship miraculously escaped the storm without too much damage, though some of the sails were torn enough that they had to stop to repair them.
 
That's when they spotted the other ship. An English fucking navy ship coming right for them.
 
Through the crew’s worried whispers, Ed pushed his panic down. The other ship hadn't fired a warning shot, their gunports were closed, they didn't look like they were approaching the Revenge with ill intent, and they were a relatively small size for a navy vessel. In fact, given the false flag the Revenge was flying, they were probably checking to see if they were alright. 

Ed could see them preparing to send a tender. They already had a plan in place for this scenario.
 
Stede rarely wore his full, fancy Gentleman Pirate kit anymore, but he still had fine enough clothes to pass himself off as a wealthy merchant. The crew hustled to hide any obvious evidence of pirating. Alma was hidden in the auxiliary wardrobe. And so was Ed.
 
There were two reasons for this. The first was that Ed, as the most legendary pirate to have ever lived, would definitely give away that this was a pirate vessel, so he was best hidden away. The second was that Ed, again, the most legendary pirate to have ever lived, was probably the best choice to guard Alma in the event that they were discovered.
 
Stede was the one to shut Alma and Ed into the wardrobe just before the English arrived. He gave Alma a hug and told her, "Be good and listen to Ed. It's time to be brave now, dear." Alma squeezed him tight, set her shoulders, and nodded, brows pulling together.
 
Then Stede pulled Ed close, kissed his cheek, and spoke softly in his ear. "I'll handle this. It's going to be okay."
 
Ed held him tightly around the middle, letting out a shuddering breath. "I know. And I'll protect her."
 
Stede pulled back, wearing a small, worried smile as he held Ed's face in his hands. "I know. I trust you," he said, leaning forward to kiss Ed briefly but soundly.

Ed's heart flipped in his chest before Stede stepped back and firmly shut them in the wardrobe.
 
Ed shut the curtains to the window, casting the room in darkness. They hunkered down in a corner of the wardrobe, waiting silently for any sign that the tender had arrived, any sign of trouble. Alma rolled her petrified orange between her palms as if to soothe herself.
 
Finally, there was the sound of people climbing up the ladder, the thunk of boots as they landed on deck, and boisterous greetings as Stede turned on the charm, welcoming them aboard. Ed couldn't make out the words, but Stede was using his best storytelling voice (enthusiastic, if a bit theatrical).
 
It was difficult to differentiate the sounds of the officers' footsteps from the rest of the crew, but Ed tried to track them anyway as they slowly meandered across the deck, assessing the damage from the storm. Ed thought he counted three or four sets of footsteps. 

He kept listening for anything suspicious and felt utterly useless. He wasn’t used to sitting these things out. Being Blackbeard meant being in control, completely feared by your enemy, but he couldn’t risk starting a fight. Still, his fingers twitched with the need to control a situation he couldn’t be a part of.
 
"I shouldn't be hiding in here," Alma hissed, somehow echoing his own thoughts. "I can help."
 
"Right now, we're both helping by staying out of the way," Ed murmured, hoping to convince himself as much as Alma. "Your dad's got this."
 
Suddenly, the footsteps started to get louder, the sounds of conversation getting closer and clearer.
 
Alma stiffened. "They're headed this way," she said.
 
Ed gripped her shoulder. He turned fully to face Alma, though he couldn't see her in the darkness. "You have to be absolutely silent, okay? Everything will be okay. They just can't find us, alright?"
 
"Okay," Alma breathed, and in a gesture that surprised Ed, gripped his hand tight.
 
They both flinched at the sound of the cabin door swinging open outside.
 
"Of course, you fine gentlemen are free to sit for a spot of tea, but we really must be going soon, I'm afraid." Stede's voice rang through clearly as he entered the cabin with the officers.  

"What's the rush?" one of the officers asked, his voice smooth and goading. "Your crew are still fixing the sails."
 
"Quite, but I'm sure they'll be done any minute. They're very efficient workers." That was a flat-out lie if Ed had ever heard one, but still, he knew that the crew would be working as fast as they could with the English breathing down their necks.
 
"And what has you in such a hurry, Captain Thomas?" it was a different man who spoke this time, his voice slightly rougher. Ed hoped he imagined the hint of suspicion in the question, but based on the way Alma had begun to vise-grip his fingers, he thought she probably picked up on it too.
 
"Tight schedule, I'm afraid. We're expected in Barbados in just a couple of days," Stede said easily, breezing past the officer's suspicion. "We were headed that way when we were delayed by the storm."
 
The officer grunted, and Ed wished he could see the look on his face. He didn't like them asking questions. "Your quarters are quite odd," the rougher officer said distastefully. Footsteps approached the library nook. "All these books seem... impractical."
 
"Yes, well, I think it's important to keep one's mind sharp at sea."
 
The officer just grunted again and began slowly pacing in front of the bookshelves, so, so close to where the door to the auxiliary wardrobe was hidden. Alma sucked in a sharp breath, holding Ed's hand so tightly now that Ed could feel his pulse in the tips of his fingers.
 
It was the smooth-talking officer who spoke next, "What are you trading, Captain Thomas?"
 
"Er, spices, mostly. A few other odds and ends. Fine textiles, that sort of thing."
 
There was a rustling quite close to the door, as though someone was picking up books and trinkets from the shelf and putting them back again. If they tried that with the mannequin statuette that acted as a lever for the door, this would all be over. He couldn't keep crouching in the corner like this. He needed to be ready and in case things went pear-shaped.
 
"How interesting."
 
Ed squeezed Alma's hand once before disentangling his fingers, slowly rising from where he and Alma had been huddled together, and took a cautious step towards the door. Alma stood and tried to follow him, but Ed stopped her with a firm hand on her forearm, guiding her back in a silent command to stay still. She tensed for a moment, like she wanted to disobey, but then let out a deep breath and leaned back against the wall.
 
"You know, Captain Thomas, I don't believe I've ever heard of you before," said the smooth-talking officer. "I'm quite connected with all of the major spice merchants that come through Barbados, you see, so it's odd that we haven't become acquainted."
 
Ed took a few slow, careful steps towards the door, his boots silent against the floorboards. He flexed his hands at his sides, his blood pounding in his ears as the other officer rummaged even closer to the secret lever.
 
"I'm relatively new to the business, actually, but I'm happy to finally make your acquaintance, Captain Beckett," Stede said, and Ed could imagine him with a clipped little smile. "So sorry, Lieutenant Winslow, was it? I hate to be rude, but I would prefer it if you didn't touch some of those. They're antiques." Stede sounded apologetic when he said it, and Ed was proud of him for not letting any panic show through.
 
The officer by the bookshelf—Winslow, apparently—made a low sound of displeasure for being told off. "Shouldn't bring anything too valuable at sea. Liable to be lost, you know. Or stolen by filthy pirates," Winslow said, voice dark.
 
Ed silently stalked ever closer, pulling his knife from its sheath.
 
Stede cleared his throat. "Yes, well, it's more about the sentimental value, I suppose."
 
"Still, you never know what to expect out here."
 
Ed took another step, except this one wasn't silent.
 
One of Frenchie's biggest complaints about having Fruitcake aboard the ship was that her dark fur made her nearly impossible to see in the shadows ("So it can sneak about on unsuspecting men and carry out its dark bidding!" he'd cried). So far, this hadn't been a particular problem for Ed, as he wasn't afraid of cats, nor did he think that they were witches. It was slightly frustrating once when he, Alma, and Stede had spent the better part of an hour trying to find her, only to realize that she was actually in plain sight, curled up and sleeping on top of a discarded black shirt, but other than that, Fruitcake's natural camouflage had never been a particular problem.
 
Until right that very moment.
 
See, Ed hadn't even realized that Fruitcake had slipped into the room with him and Alma, so he hadn't known to watch out for her as he moved toward the door. He hadn't even considered that he might step on her tail. So when the cat suddenly broke the silence of the room, screeching and yowling loudly in displeasure, Ed was startled so badly that he dropped his knife, falling with a clatter against the hardwood floor.
 
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!
 
All conversation in the captain's cabin came to an abrupt halt. Ed froze.

"What was that?" Beckett asked.
 
Before Ed could stop her, Fruitcake had already run to the wardrobe door, scratching at it, meowing loudly, begging to be let out.
 
"Erm, we have a cat on board to keep pests at bay! Nothing to worry about. Now, it's been lovely speaking with you, gentlemen, but we really must be going—"
 
"Is it coming from the walls?" Winslow asked, perplexed. Ed heard footsteps move directly outside the wardrobe door. "It is! From just over here. What the hell is going on?"
 
"Oh, you know cats end up in the damnedest places sometimes! Why don't we just head outside?"
 
Fruitcake let out a particularly loud shriek, and Ed winced. He heard rustling and bumping and knocking just outside the door, and his heart hammered in his chest as he scooped up his knife and prepared himself to fight.
 
"Oh, don't touch that please—!"
 
Suddenly, Alma was right at Ed's side, grabbing his arm. Before Ed could tell her to get back and move away from the door, Alma lifted his arm and stepped into his space, maneuvering them both, so it looked like Ed had her in a headlock, his arm around her neck.
 
"What are you doing?" Ed hissed, confused, as pre-fight adrenaline flooded through him.
 
"Just trust me," Alma hissed back, keeping him from moving away. "And make it look good."
 
Ed found that he did trust her, but he still wished he had time to ask her what her plan was before the door to the auxiliary wardrobe swung open.
 
Light poured into the room, and Fruitcake darted out. In the threshold of the door, Ed could see an officer and a lower-ranking seaman wearing twin looks of shock on their faces, as well as on the face of another officer who was slightly behind them. Stede hovered behind them all, face pulled into a panicked grimace, hands flapping as if unsure what to do. 
 
"Help! He's holding me hostage!" Alma shouted, struggling against Ed's grip as though she wasn't the one who had arranged them this way.
 
It took everything in Ed not to go limp in surprise. Suddenly, he was very aware of what exactly the officers were seeing, with Ed restraining Alma, a knife in his other hand. He looked like a filthy pirate hijacking a ship, using a young girl as leverage. Clever fucking kid. She was saving Stede and the rest of the crew from being accused of harboring a pirate by making it seem like coercion and intimidation. He played along, his mind catching up to the fuckery Alma was trying to pull here. He held on to her tight enough to be convincing, but was careful not to hurt her.
 
Instantly, there were rifles pointed in his direction.
 
"What is the meaning of this?" the closest officer, Winslow, shouted, shocked and angry.
 
"Put the guns down if you don't want the girl to get hurt," Ed growled, the threat leaving a bad taste in his mouth. He shot a glance at Stede, who looked confused.
 
"Dad, please save me from Blackbeard!" Alma pleaded, her eyes wet with tears, entirely too convincing. Ed should have known she'd be good with a fuckery. She had an excellent poker face, after all.
 
"Er, it will be alright, darling!" Stede said, clearly perplexed, but going along with it anyway. "Just stay calm!"
 
"Blackbeard!" Beckett gasped. "Filthy pirate! Let the poor girl go!"
 
"And why would I do that?" Ed was playing his part well, snarling and glaring, but he was genuinely at a loss as to what to do next. He felt like an actor who had forgotten his lines.
 
"We have you cornered and outnumbered, scum," Winslow spat. "There's nowhere for you to go."
 
Ed quickly ran through his options and found that he had no good ones. If he tried to use Alma as a "hostage" for much longer, there was a possibility that one of the officers would do something rash and Alma could get caught in the crossfire. There was also the definite possibility that if he let her go, they would shoot him the second she was out of the way. Neither seemed ideal, but Ed would much rather he get hurt than Alma. There was no choice.
 
Ed "released" Alma, dropping his knife and raising his hands in surrender.
 
Alma darted towards Stede, barreling into his arms. "Dad!"
 
"I'm so glad you're safe, dear," he said, patting her on the back and shooting Ed furtive looks.
 
"Please tell me what is going on, Captain Thomas," Beckett demanded. He was the only one of the three English who didn't have a gun pulled on Ed.
 
"Uh—"
 
"Blackbeard snuck onto the ship!" Alma interjected, likely helping Stede get on the same page about their cover story. She sent a fearful, quivering look Ed's way for good measure that almost would have been funny in any other circumstance.
 
"Y-Yes, exactly," Stede began, stumbling over his words slightly. "Apparently, his last crew mutinied, so he snuck onto our ship to hijack it. He threatened my precious daughter to keep us obedient until we reached our next port." He held Alma tightly against him, playing up the worried father act.
 
"How despicable!" Beckett said, aghast. "But have no fear! This criminal will be brought to justice for what he's done."
 
"Thank you, sir. Perhaps you should tie him up so you can put those guns away around my daughter."
 
Winslow grunted in agreement, nodding his head at the lower-ranked soldier beside him, who quickly moved to tie Ed's hands in front of him. (A rookie mistake if he ever saw one. Always tie behind the back.) Only when he was fully secured did Winslow lower the gun.
 
The soldier marched Ed out of the auxiliary wardrobe roughly, and Ed caught Stede looking at the man disdainfully before he caught himself, remembering that he wasn't supposed to be on Blackbeard's side.
 
"We're going to bring Blackbeard into custody on our ship. I'll bring him before my superior officer, and then he'll be tried and executed," Beckett said solemnly.
 
"Yes, uh, good," Stede said, eyebrows pulling together.
 
"Apologies, we know this must have been an ordeal, Captain Thomas, but we're going to need you to come with us to answer a few questions about what happened."
 
"Yes, of course, I understand." Stede turned to Alma, patting her on the head. "You stay here, dear. I'll be right back as soon as I can."
 
Alma's eyes darted between Ed and Stede, calculating. "But dad—"
 
"No buts," Stede said, firm, gaze furtive. "You stay right here." Ed knew what he was doing. There was no way he and Stede were getting on that English ship, outnumbered and outgunned, which meant they had to take care of these officers before it got to that point, without alerting the enemy ship that anything was amiss. But if they were going to take care of these guys, they had to keep Alma out of harm's way.
 
"Fine," Alma pouted.

“You know, gentlemen, we have some manacles in the brig that are sturdier than those ropes,” Stede suggested, turning back to the officers. “It might be a good idea to put those on this brigand before attempting to transport him. He’s deadlier than he may seem.”

Yes, taking the officers further into the belly of the Revenge would give them more time to formulate a plan without attracting notice from the English ship. If they ran into any of their crew, they may even be able to overpower the officers and lock them in the brig. Ed thanked whatever deity was listening for Stede’s quick thinking. 

Beckett took one look at Ed, who bared his teeth and did his best to look imposing, and agreed that getting the manacles was a good idea.
 
They all began walking from the room, then. The soldier that was leading Ed out shoved him forward roughly, causing him to stumble and fall to the floor. Ed winced, his bad knee twinging in pain, but the man only smirked. "Pirate scum, get up." He hauled Ed up roughly to standing by his wrists.
 
"Pardon me, young man," Stede said, catching the soldier's attention. "But do you mind terribly if I'm the one to guard him? I have to say, what you just did looked quite satisfying."
 
The soldier looked to Beckett for direction, and the Captain shrugged and nodded. "Go on then. He deserves it after what that monster put him through."
 
"Thank you, sir," Stede said, taking the young soldier's place beside Ed, grabbing onto his bindings.
 
"Careful not to rough him up too much. I want the Admiral to be able to recognize his face from the wanted posters," Beckett said before turning and walking into the hallway, the other two English on his heels.
 
"What an arse," Stede breathed, quiet so only Ed could hear. Ed had to cough to cover a laugh.
 
Stede began to march Ed from the room, yanking firmly on the rope bindings. "Remember, the safeword is marmalade," he whispered, throwing Ed a cheeky wink.
 
"Oh? Now I'm interested to see where this is going," Ed murmured as they passed the threshold into the hallway.
 
Stede cracked a smile before schooling his features. He yanked on the ropes again, this time hard enough to make Ed stumble, but not fall. "How does it feel to be pushed around, you fiend!"
 
Ed watched as Stede tried to work at the knots of his bindings one-handed while the officers weren't looking. "Uh, bad!"
 
"I sure hope so, you vagabond!"
 
They made slow progress through the cramped corridors belowdecks, going deeper into the belly of the ship, towards the brig. Stede "guarding" Ed, pretending to shove him around, while also trying to loosen the knots that bound his hands together.
 
They were still in those dark hallways when their plan unraveled.
 
"Hey, what are you doing!?" It was the young soldier who had briefly glanced back and caught Stede fiddling with the ropes. His hand went for the gun on his belt, and Ed didn't have time to think, he just acted.
 
In one swift motion, Ed kicked the back of the soldier's knee hard, sending him tumbling down and his gun clattering across the floor. At the same moment that Stede went diving for the gun, Ed made a move on Beckett, looping his still-bound arms over his head and choking him from behind. Ed could hear the sounds of a scuffle behind him, but he couldn't focus on that yet. In shock from the sudden turn of events, the officer clawed uselessly at Ed's arms for a few seconds before he seemed to remember that he had weapons, but before he could reach for his gun, Ed forced him to the floor, pinning him there until he passed out.
 
Ed disentangled himself from Beckett and stood to face the scene before him. The young soldier was slumped unconscious against the wall (way to go, Stede). Winslow and Stede were in a standoff, each pointing a gun at the other, Winslow on one knee like he had tried to go for Stede's gun or for the soldier but was too slow. Ed froze, assessing the situation, desperately trying to figure out what he could do with his hands still tied.
 
"Give it up, Winslow," Stede said, putting on his captain's bravado. "You're outnumbered and in enemy territory."
 
"Or what?"
 
"I'll shoot."
 
Winslow smirked. "You won't."
 
Stede raised a brow. "You don't believe me? I've done it before and I'm happy to do it again."
 
"I shoot you, I win," Winslow began darkly. "You shoot me, and my men hear it, blow this ship to smithereens. Win-win scenario for me, the way I see it."
 
Stede hesitated, and Winslow chuckled, standing up slowly. "That's what I thought," he said, cocking the gun.
 
"No!" Ed shouted, throwing himself in front of Stede, shielding him with his body. "Don't you dare, dog," he growled.
 
Now Winslow laughed outright. "Fine, I'll take out the legendary Blackbeard first. Not like anyone will miss you. The only thing pirate scum like you is good for is getting me a promotion. You can rot in Hell—OW!"
 
Ed watched in amazement as something small, hard, and semispherical beamed straight into the back of Winslow's head.
 
"Stay away from my dads, bitch!" Alma shouted furiously, appearing from seemingly nowhere.
 
With Winslow's gaze turned towards Alma in disbelief, it gave Ed an opening to smack the gun out of his hand and kick it away. Stede quickly dove around Ed, using the butt of the gun to strike Winslow in the head again. The stun move worked, and Winslow’s eyes rolled back before he collapsed to the floor with his companions.
 
Alma ran up to them, leaning down to pick up the petrified orange half that she had thrown. "Are you both okay?"
 
Ed let out a relieved, almost hysterical laugh as relief flooded him. "Thanks for the assist, kid!" he said, ruffling Alma's hair as best he could with his hands still tied. She squirmed away, but still smiled at him.
 
"Jim's been helping me practice my aim!" She said excitedly.
 
"Good thing they have! You saved our skins." Ed was beyond impressed with her. And not just for absolutely nailing an English officer in the back of the head with a petrified orange. It was her quick thinking upon being discovered that saved them all.
 
Alma bit her lip, looking up at her dad hopefully.
 
Stede pursed his lips, looking at her thoughtfully. "We'll talk about how dangerous that was and your use of language later, but for now..." Stede paused for a moment, a proud little smile settling across his face. "That was very cool."
 
Alma grinned, practically squealing in delight as she pulled them both into a nearly suffocating hug. And as the three of them held each other, taking a moment to revel in the fact that they were all okay, Ed knew that he and Stede were both feeling overwhelming pride.

***

After the sails were fixed and the Revenge was ready to make way, they ended up putting the officers back in their dinghy, bound and gagged, the young sailor's hands tied to the oars. The English ship didn't realize anything was amiss until far too late, and the Revenge was already far gone.

***

Stede could see Barbados on the horizon. That familiar shoreline always brought up complicated feelings for him, but this time, it seemed even more so.
 
He'd grown so used to Alma's presence on the ship the last few weeks, watching her go about her day, interacting with the crew, her enthusiasm for learning new things, and her love for her cat. He felt like he was watching her grow up before his very eyes.
 
But soon, she would be back with her mother, and things would go back to how they were before, and Stede's chest ached. He was going to miss her. He would go back to catching up with her in skips of time, seeing her grow in bursts, missing all the in-between.
 
It's the way it had to be. Stede wouldn't give up this life, and when it came down to it, this life didn't fit with parenthood. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt to part with a piece of himself.
 
When they were near the island, Stede found Alma sitting in the bed nook of their cabin, cradling Fruitcake in her arms. Her eyes were ringed in red, her cheeks wet with tears.
 
Stede slid into the bed nook beside her. "What's going on, dear?" he asked softly.
 
"'M saying goodbye to Fruitcake," she said, voice wobbly.
 
"Oh, darling, you can take her with you if you want!" Stede said, combing gentle fingers through her hair and praying that Mary wouldn't kill him for promising Alma a new pet.
 
Alma shook her head, sniffling a bit. "No, I got her so she could help with pests on the ship. She belongs here."
 
Stede's brows pinched together in concern. "Are you sure? It's okay, she's your cat."
 
"I'm sure." Alma scooped up Fruitcake and deposited her onto Stede's lap. Fruitcake went with only minor protests before melting into Stede's lap, purring as Alma scratched her chin. "But just... make sure you come around a lot," Alma said, eyes vulnerable as they darted to Stede's for a moment. "So I can see her, you know? Because I'll miss her." She choked up slightly as she spoke, clearing her throat to hide it.
 
Oh.
 
"Of course, darling," Stede said, his own voice going gravelly with tears. "We'll both miss you very much."
 
Alma just nodded, biting her lip. And for a few minutes, they just existed together in the warmth of the bed nook, speaking softly and petting their cat.

***

As soon as they made port in Barbados, Stede sent Lucius and Jim ahead as messengers to Mary and Doug, to let them know that they had brought Alma back with them.
 
Stede and Ed helped Alma gather her things, then watched as she said goodbye to the crew. Everyone seemed to have developed something of a soft spot for her, and a few even cried a bit. Izzy tried to hide it with a gruff dismissal, but when Alma hugged him, Stede saw his eyes go misty.
 
When she was ready, the two of them escorted Alma onto the busy docks.
 
"Ugh, why does the ground feel weird?" Alma asked, stumbling slightly.
 
Ed chuckled. "You gotta get your land legs back. Don't worry, you'll get used to it soon."
 
"So... how was I at the whole pirating thing, then?" Alma asked. "After all your tutelage?"
 
Ed smiled at her fondly. "You were brilliant out there, kid."
 
Stede chuckled. "Certainly better than my first attempt."
 
Alma grinned. "So, any final pirate tips before I'm back to the real world?"
 
"ALMA MARIE BONNET!" Mary's furious voice rang out over the din of the dockworkers, and Stede looked up to see her storming their way, Doug on her heels. "YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!"
 
Stede winced, leaning down to speak in Alma's ear. "Be brave, darling."
 
"Oh, fuck."
 
"Language."