Work Text:
Return of a King
"Make no mistake about it, whatever future this place has left, I'm it. And if you ever challenge me again in front of my crew, I may just forget that I loved you once.”
Charles Vane
--
"Why don't we leave?"
They were in Charles' tent, Anne and Jack witnesses to the destruction that another quarrel with Eleanor fucking Guthrie had left within and all around Charles. Wounds not just on his body but even more so on the inside and them just bystanders to the pain he was causing himself just so the pain she had caused wouldn't hurt so much anymore.
He had gone over from actually destroying stuff to wrecking damage on his own self, one bottle of rum had already been emptied by him alone and Jack was only glad that Anne had been quick in hiding the opium away in time. He didn't want to go back there with his captain, his friend, again.
Anne's question had fallen into the first bout of silence they had had since they had come across Charles fighting like an alley cat against some men from Hornigold's crew behind the brothel, just because he had needed an outlet and those men had been itching for a fight themselves. Anne had finished that rather quickly, much to Charles' bitter amusement and to the shame of a just then arriving Hornigold.
Jack had remained behind to smoothe things over, Anne had been tasked with dragging a weakly resisting Charles back to camp.
And now this.
The words had come out so sure that Jack knew for a fact that it wasn't just some spontaneous flight of fancy that Anne had carried on her tongue, this was something she had been thinking about for a while already. He looked over to her, found her still sitting on the ground in front of the tent entrance, crosslegged and her daggers in her hands, ready to either keep Charles from storming out again and more importantly to keep anyone from getting in and see their captain this vulnerable and open wounded in the non-bleeding kind.
Anne wasn't even acknowledging him though, her eyes were only on Charles, so Jack turned that way now, too. Charles was sitting up on his bed, eyes on Anne and in his head the wheels were turning, either still trying to process what she had been asking him or trying to find an answer that wouldn't make her too angry. Jack knew perfectly well that Charles liked Anne a whole lot more than he would ever admit out loud, he respected her more than he already respected Jack, and it didn't hurt at all.
Charles and Anne understood each other on a level that Jack would never be able to reach for, both of them had seen so much shit at an age where that should have never been happening. He wanted to protect both of them from the monsters still haunting them so many years later because of it but it was them who kept on protecting him on a daily basis, so he had to show his appreciation for them in a different way.
He was the brain of their operations, Charles and Anne were the executioners.
Always had been, always would be.
Still, Charles wouldn't leave Nassau behind, as fucked up as the whole thing was, he was too damn hung up on Eleanor fucking Guthrie to turn his back on her.
Only...
Even Jack Rackham could be wrong sometimes.
Charles' and Anne's weird staring contest went on for a good minute before Charles was the one who broke out and something flickered over his face that had Jack freeze.
Because never had he seen something like genuine desolation on his friend's face, and they had been through so much.
"Where would we go?"
Jack's mind was still too shocked to get words to his lips but thoughts could go through quite alright, the words of Charles' question weren't the unnerving part, it was the way he had phrased it. Not rhetorical, not in the way where he made it clear there was nowhere to go for him and he hated it.
This was someone actually interested in knowing where they could indeed go outside of Nassau.
"Tortuga isn't us."
And Anne was fucking playing along.
What the fuck was happening?
"We'd have our respect there and they would surely welcome us," Anne explained it like this was a conversation they had had multiple times ago and had Jack missed something? Was this something that Charles and Anne had actually been talking about before? While he had slept? "We could seek out our own spot."
"The men won't stand for that," Charles held against her and he was sluring but at the same time stone cold sober. "Not when they have it so easy here."
"Too easy," Anne argued and cocked her head to the side, still only watching her captain, "they gotten lazy."
"Is this real?" Jack found his tongue again finally and two heads snapped over to him as if just then remembering they weren't actually alone. Anne blinked at him, Charles looked at him out of heavy eyes. "Are we really talking about this?"
He wasn't against it in the slightest, there had been dozen of times in the last weeks where he had found himself thinking that he couldn't get away from Nassau fast enough. He loved the freedom that Nassau granted to them, the luxuries weren't bad either but Eleanor Guthrie was trying to play Queen and it rubbed him all the wrong ways.
Nassau would never have a Queen, and the pirates wouldn't accept her either. Everyone knew that Eleanor Guthrie was untouchable because of Charles and Flint, if that fell away her empire would crumble like a house of cards.
Jack liked Nassau itself, but it wasn't home. Home was the Ranger, home were Anne and Charles, not this island, that couldn't happen as long as Eleanor Guthrie figured she could play with his captain's affection for her like a child with a toy.
But Charles?
For him Nassau was home, for him Nassau was everything. Ever since that moment where Teach had been chased off these shores by the Guthries and Charles had chosen to remain behind, Jack had always considered that his captain was ready to die for whatever he saw in this pirate paradise.
He had been so wrong.
"What's there to lose?" Charles asked him after an awkward pause, "we all know I'm fucked if I stay here. Nassau is worth protecting but she isn't. She's never gonna see our worth. I'm loyal to Nassau, I always will be but not to her. Not after this." Eleanor had definitely gone too far with her latest scheme, once more she had played Charles out against Flint and let Flint win, one time too many, this time Charles had taken it more than just personally. This time it had been felt as a hit against his crew and that had been something that Eleanor Guthrie should have never dared.
Anne picked herself up from the ground and moved until she could sit down on the foot end of Charles' bed.
"So where to?"
"There might be something," Charles began and he was so hesitant that Jack immediately knew what he was thinking about, half of his mind switching to preparing their departure, not just temporary but permanent. There was only one place that Charles could ever think hesitantly about. "If I'm still welcome."
Right back to the beginning.
And maybe, just maybe, it was exactly what they needed.
What Charles needed to heal from the toxic thorns Eleanor Guthrie had stuck into his back.
--
Two days later, so early in the morning that half of Nassau slept still, Jack stood waiting on the dock next to the last of the Ranger's longboats still waiting there, five of their men patiently sitting in it. Anne was overseeing everything on the ship, to get her ready to set sail the moment Charles' feet hit the overdeck.
It was a weird feeling bumbling around Jack's chest, excitement mixed with satisfaction and a small amount of bitterness. Charles wasn't running. He wasn't fleeing from Nassau but he had been chased away, been broken too many times by this fucking woman to be able to have Nassau heal him together again. He needed a new beginning and Jack hated that he hadn't been able to prevent it.
At the moment he was watching Charles standing at the very edge of where the town street ended and the docks and the beach began. Talking to Flint. Of all people, it had been Flint who had caught onto their intentions upon this hasty departure. And now these two were talking, calmly, probably the first time ever.
It took minutes until both captains nodded at each other and then Charles turned around and came walking towards them while Flint watched him, unreadable expression on his face.
"Did he have something to say?" Jack wanted to know quietly when Charles reached him and they both began to climb down to their men.
"Wished me good luck for a new start," Charles muttered and Jack made some kind of funny noise that had him laugh, "yeah, exactly."
Who knew that Flint had a heart after all.
--
The winds were in their favor and the Ranger was leaving the bay at a good speed once the sails were raised. Jack allowed himself one last look of Nassau, for now, never say never. And then he gave himself a few minutes before getting busy to observe Charles on the overdeck, as expected his captain's eyes were on the island they were leaving behind.
He couldn't tell what Charles was thinking about but in some way he looked relieved that he had managed to get away before it had been too late.
--
The tavern was quiet that evening, no sign of Miss Guthrie anywhere but she also wasn't needed, no one was arguing or throwing bottles, let alone starting a fight. Let alone would she have been wanted this time, chances were fights would have been started if she had shown her face. There was barely any conversation happening, crews sat together and stared into their rum, downcast and bitter after the blow that this day had dealt to Nassau's defense. To her safety. To her reputation. To her very core. Flint sat at his usual table and absentmindedly rolled a gold coin between his fingers, staring at the ale but not seeing it at all.
"You reckon he'll be back?" Silver asked him and at least a dozen set of ears no doubt turned their attention onto what he would answer. Despite some signs having been there, no one would have expected this decision, rash as it might have been. And though one part of him was content with having one contender less in the game they were all playing here, the by far bigger part of him knew that this was arguably the greatest loss Nassau could have suffered in these trying times.
"One day," Flint answered after a long pause, aware that he didn't know Charles Vane at all but that he had the man figured out in at least one aspect. "He'll be back when Nassau needs him." Silver nodded, understanding, even if he had known Vane so much shorter than Flint had fought with the younger captain. Years and years of bitter rivalry, just snuffed out like that.
It was a weird feeling.
Flint hated unfinished business.
Even though he wasn't sure how this rivalry should have ever led to anything else but one of them losing their life over it.
Honestly, he had even always kind of expected it to be him. Vane was younger, more driven, hungrier, angrier, and more loyal to the cause than Flint could ever dream of being.
And maybe that was part of why Vane had left Nassau from one day to the next, no sign left behind anymore of a crew that had ruled the streets and the beach of Nassau. In the end Vane had always been more loyal to Nassau than to anyone else but his own crew, Eleanor included, and when sticking around for her had meant betraying his loyalty to Nassau, he had made the one decision to be right.
Set sail and left.
Gone with him were Rackham and Bonny. Gone with him were the men who would have fought tooth and nail for Nassau's defense, for the very principles she stood for.
This was a blow to Nassau.
A blow to piracy in New Providence.
"Where do you think he will anchor down now?" Silver wanted to know when the silence made him uncomfortable, Flint shrugged his shoulders in a first wordless reply, finally setting the coin down to start drinking. He had the note to prove that he did have an answer for that question, and he would tell Silver later, communicating it with a quick look, when they were back on the ship or somewhere else where no one would listen in.
Eleanor didn't need to know or hear it from anybody.
If anyone followed Vane's example now, Nassau would start crumbling.
"He'll know where he can start over."
'When Nassau needs us, we'll be back.'
--
Miles out on sea, a whole day's voyage out from Nassau already, the Ranger moved fast in the good winds. Sails being fed splendidly ever since they had left the bay of the town they had all considered home for years.
Jack assured himself one last time that everything was running smoothly before he briefly nodded to Anne talking with the lookout boys and then vanished into the captain's cabin. He took the few steps over to the desk until he could drop into a chair, and only then did he look upon his captain and friend who was rolling a coin across the maps they had been looking over until an hour ago still.
"Course is set, if you change your mind now it better be soon because the winds are good."
"I'm decided," Charles answered him without looking up, round and round the coin went, round and round the little pin that signaled their goal. Maybe they were lucky and crossed some merchants on the way, a little hunt, a little fight, it would do Charles good, Anne good and their men anyway. And maybe with the ship's belly full of goods their welcome would smooth over a little more as well.
Jack could hope.
On their way to Ocracoke.
On their way to a new beginning.
--
Nassau was eeriely quiet in the first few days after the Ranger's departure and though Flint might have never had his way with words, it certainly looked like Vane, Bonny and Rackham had taken the life right out of the island's veins. The streets were empty, the pubs quiet and devoid of laughter. People were whispering in these days, looking over their shoulders, throwing quick glances at the harbor bay.
Because as much as Vane had taken Nassau's life with himself, he had accidentaly for sure left something behind to fill that void.
Fear.
The people were afraid. Pirates were afraid. Captains were afraid.
It was a fear that Flint could feel in his own bones as well but kept well hidden, least they saw it and considered panic to be the appropriate reaction. Someone needed to keep control now.
Fact was, Nasssau had lost her biggest protector. Vane would have fought to the death to protect his Nassau, would have kept standing until every bone in his body was broken, until he was bled dry. And people would have fought with him, as long as he had kept standing, they would have gotten up again and again, no matter how often the enemy had beaten them down. No one would have given up.
Now?
Now, Flint wasn't even sure if anyone were to show up if English or Spanish ships appeared on the horizon.
Vane was gone. Rackham and Bonny, gone. The Ranger, gone. The Ranger crew and their blind limitless loyalty and undeniable strength, gone.
"Urgh," Silver's voice ripped Flint out of his thoughts and he watched how the younger man shook himself and then closed the door of Flint's cabin behind himself. The Walrus remained silent otherwise, anchored in the bay of Nassau, watching over an island terrified by fear and the unknown. "It's like walking over quicksand, you never know which inch of land will get you," Silver complained and then sank down onto the chair in front of Flint's desk. "I am starting to get why you won't leave the ship anymore. If one more person asks me what we intend to do to get Vane back, I will lose it."
"We need to stop whining over what is lost and instead start thinking over how we can protect Nassau now without the Ranger." Flint pointed out without looking up from the books he had spread out over his desk, trying in vain to find the funds for something grand. There was so much potential in Nassau just crumbling away but they didn't have the gold to built up the fort, let alone the gold to built more defenses.
"Would be quite sweet if we had the funds to finance such an endeavor," Silver took the thought straight out of his head and Flint grimaced down at the map in his hands. "Unfortunately, I think you'll never get the support you need now to go after the Urca de Lima."
--
"And thus, as always to traitors..."
Max
--
As time progressed and days turned into weeks without hearing anything new about Charles Vane and the Ranger's whereabouts, the people of Nassau became hungry for a scapegoat. Flint had known it was coming, he had warned Eleanor that the island would turn againt her, that the people wouldn't see her twisted reality and stand with her.
She wasn't one of them.
Had never truly been and would never be one of them.
Especially not after her move against Silver.
--
After Silver was taken from the Walrus' campside on the beach in the middle of the night by what quickly turned out to be Guthrie men, Flint was shaken awake on the Walrus by Billy and some other men and they rushed out searching. Other crews joined them quickly enough because Silver and his stupid tongue had gained himself more admirers than enemies over time despite Flint's repeated warnings.
And every pirate was not so secretly hoping the wished for scapegoat would soon enough be carrying Eleanor Guthrie's face.
Despite all hands on deck and all feet out on the streets, they didn't find Silver until one and a half days later. It wasn't Flint and his search group who quite literally stumbled upon the half destroyed shack far in the island's interior but Billy and his own group. Luck for those bastards who had taken and tortured Silver for more than a day, Billy already singlehandedly ended their lives in a rage but Flint would have dragged it out for days.
If not weeks.
Because though they found Silver, he would never be the same.
It would never be the Silver again who had wormed itself under Flint's skin and dragged him back again to the light after he had lost Miranda and his way.
One and a half days.
One and a half days in Guthrie captivity and Silver lost a leg. Cut off right below his knee, still bleeding profoundly as Billy's men rushed to stop it and Billy set a blade to the guard's throats.
One and a half days and Silver laid dying miles from shore.
Flint didn't see him until they had brought Silver onto the Walrus somehow, the man out cold by then by bloodloss, shock, pain and relief of knowing he was safe now, but Flint would hear that he had screamed the whole way to the beach. Screamed in agony. And there was only one thing that kept him from going after Eleanor himself in that very moment as he jumped into a boat to get back to his ship, ordering some of his men to find the wretched woman, he would not lose another person he cared about. Not if he could fight for their lives with his own hands.
--
Eleanor's motives became foggedly clear over the next couple of days as the Walrus crew patrolled the ship like a fort.
Once Billy came and revealed the reason for Silver's abduction, Flint had already guessed himself a puzzle together in his own way.
Silver was a threat to Eleanor's hunger for power, as was Flint, and taking Silver out of the equation meant taking Flint out as well. Eleanor knew him well, knew that by now Silver was in a great many ways the only tar that held Flint's sanity together, but she didn't know him well enough.
Didn't know that Flint had signed her death sentence the very moment he had laid eyes on Silver on board of the Walrus, more dead than alive.
--
It took days for Silver to step away from death's door. More days until he could sit up. Even more days until he could manage to get up onto his one remaining leg with the help of Flint.
Flint who had never strayed from his side, who had only given the order to not go after Eleanor just yet but prevent her from leaving the island. 'Chase her down at all times' he had told Billy in a rage as Silver had still lain seizing on his bed, deathly gray with bloodloss. 'Don't for a second have your men lose sight of her.'
Weeks then it had taken until Silver had gained enough energy back to start walking more than a couple of steps. Months even until he was fully recovered, as fully as he could ever be without two legs.
Flint watched over him, even closer than before once he was strong enough again to get back to working with the men. He saw the doubt in Silver's eyes as the men voted him back into being quartermaster, and he hated Eleanor for it. He saw the pain in Silver's eyes whenever he pushed himself too far and was just too afraid to take a moment, to appear weak, and Flint wanted Eleanor to pay for every second of it. He saw the good days and the bad ones, saw how Silver kept on fighting through it all. And with every ounce of strength, with every ounce of himself that returned to Silver's wit and his loyal heart, Flint wanted Eleanor to die more and more.
--
Charles looked up from the low burning fire when Anne sat down next to him in the sand, this wrong colored sand, with the wrongly formed palm trees in the back, with even the sea shimmering in the wrong blue. Ocracoke had caught him, Teach had caught him again, built him back up again but Ocracoke wasn't Nassau, and Charles couldn't stop thinking about it.
He missed no one on Nassau.
But he missed Nassau.
"How is Jack?" He wanted to know after a moment of shared silence, they returned to Ocracoke to catch a break, repair a few damages on the Ranger and because Jack had gotten sick, and with him so many men that it had been quite an effort to even get the ship back to here.
"Still whining," Anne deadpanned and her face showed just why she had sought Charles out, "enjoying being fussed over by the women."
Charles snorted and turned back to look over the sea.
The cluster of women that Teach entertained here on the beach were an enjoyment for Jack and the men, even Anne he had seen disappearing with one or two into a tent on some nights. Charles staid clear of them, the older ones still looked at him like a child, and the younger ones looked at him with eyes that held that all too familiar fire in them.
Months since Eleanor.
Months since he had been burned and he still felt the betrayal and her toxic touch, still snapped awake from nightmares where she set the knife to his throat, where she looked on as he was walked to the gallows.
It would took time until he could allow a woman into his bed again without expecting to be stabbed in the back afterwards.
"Do you regret leaving?" Anne surprised him with her next question and he looked at her again, saw the healthy flush on her face from weeks on open sea in the bright sun, saw the life in green eyes. Every day away from Nassau, Anne had come alive again, no more silent brooding, no more angry glares.
"No," he told her honestly and not just to appease her, "I don't regret it. It would have been my death if I had staid. I miss Nassau, my Nassau," he made clear and then sighed, dropping back into the sand, "Ocracoke was a good place to start anew but this isn't my home."
"Doesn't feel right," Anne agreed and it was her who turned to watch the horizon then and Charles was left blinking up at her. "You think she's okay?"
They hadn't heard anything about Nassau in the long months since they had left, hadn't even run into anyone in Tortuga who hailed from their old shores. It was puzzling but Charles wouldn't call it worrying, the sea was too big, there was no war for once, trade was prospering, enough prey for pirates all around.
"Nassau is too stubborn to go under. She'll fight. She'll take revenge into her own hands, she always does."
--
The day of reckoning in Nassau came a week later.
Finally.
Eleanor was no outcast, as much as she liked to believe it sometimes. She was no former slave, former criminal. She was no pirate. She was a rich heiress from Boston, born with English blood in the new world, grown up with silver spoons and all the luxuries she could have wanted. Even after the Spanish had killed her mother, she had never been short of anything, she had never needed to fear for her life because of who she was, what she stood for.
The tension rose until it snapped on the island and Flint found himself being roused by Silver and Billy in a hurry, both of them announcing that Richard Guthrie had been dragged from his reclusive home by the islanders and brought upon the town square.
For a moment then, thinking back on what Nassau was threatened by now due to the Guthries, Flint considered staying on the Walrus. He had warned Eleanor, he had warned Richard about what he thought might come to fruition but both times he had been ignored because both of them had never understood the people of Nassau. In the end, his curiosity won out though and he followed Silver and Billy from the ship, arriving in the town square as the mob was already in a fever pitch to see justice dealt out.
Richard was true to his nature cowering behind his daughter, Eleanor though still kept her nose higher than ever before, completely convinced still that no one would ever dare harm her. It was almost admirable how blind and naive someone could be when the literal sword was being pointed right in their face and a wildly cursing group of people was building up the scaffold for the gallows.
The signs had been everywhere but Flint had stopped caring about Eleanor Guthrie, she had brought this doom upon herself and he only cared about protecting Nassau now. This island needed the pirates, and the pirates needed Nassau, nowhere did it state that the Guthries had to be a part of it, too.
Flint stopped one step past the circle of islanders and pirates and a quickly raised hand brought him the silence he wanted. He knew Silver at his back, looking over his shoulder, Billy on his other side, ready to interfere, ready to protect Silver if anything was still to happen. Flint though knew that Eleanor's days as a tyrant were over. She looked to him, of course she did, still believing that he saw that innocent little girl in her who needed protecting from the toxic world around her when all she had ever strove for was to become that toxin itself.
She had sent those men to torture Silver to keep playing her sick little games, to hold onto a rope that had long since stopped being a leash and turned into a noose.
"Did you honestly believe this day wouldn't come?" He directed at her after the silence became so heavy that people began to shift, almost all eyes on Flint now. "What you did to Nassau, to us, it cannot be left without consequences."
"All I ever did was help Nassau, help you. Without me, Nassau wouldn't have had half the success it had for years."
"Without you we'd still have Charles Vane," a man from Flint's crew dared to speak up and Flint was actually grateful to not be painted the only accuser here. "We'd still have the Ranger and its crew and no one here would live in fear." People agreed all around and Eleanor looked around with her fake wide eyes, disbelief in them that not even Flint could tell was fake or true. Eleanor had lost herself so deeply in her game that reality had disappeared from her mind entirely.
"I did all of you a favor by getting rid of him," she insisted and looked to her father but Richard didn't look to her, he had realized the end of their days.
"You didn't get rid of anyone," Silver spat out and made to move out from behind Flint but Billy held him back. "Vane left on his own accord. His choice. His move. You were the reason he left, I'll give you that, but you had no hand to play in it."
Silver's outbreak opened the gates again and suddenly voices began yelling from all sides again.
"She had a hand to play in what was done to Mister Silver!"
"She had a hand to play in almost everything that went wrong with Nassau!"
"The witch has to pay!"
The situation threatened to fall out of control again so Flint sent Billy a look.
"SHUT UP!" The bosun yelled into the round and people snapped their mouths shut again, silent once more.
"We need to hurry this up before she weasels her way out again," Silver whispered from behind him and Flint hummed in agreement.
"You weren't pulled here tonight to stand questioning. It's over, Eleanor," he announced to her and the blond woman reared her head up again, eyes blazing. "Every single decision of yours led straight here. The second Vane broke the chains you had bestowed upon him, the very moment he left these shores, your time had begun to tick down. The moment you gave the order to take Silver from the beach, you set the knife to your own neck. Now here we are, and there is only one way out of this for you. It won't be on your own feet."
"You won't get away with this!" She began to shriek but Flint made out two of his men in the first row and wrenched his head towards Eleanor. His men understood and moved forward to restrain her, Richard Guthrie just remained frozen as he had been before, aa coward through and through. "I want a trial!" Eleanor's demand was met with loud laughter and even Flint couldn't bite back the smile that appeared on his face.
"Do you think pirates get a trial with the English? Do you think the Spanish are sitting any of us down in a courthouse first? Do you think we get a word in if they catch us?" He rattled down questions as he slowly walked forward, making a gesture behind his back to keep Silver from following, he wanted him nowhere close to Eleanor Guthrie. "The punishment for piracy is death. You wanted so desperately to be one of us, Eleanor. You claimed yourself a pirate bride when it fit you, and an innocent victim in the next moment because that role fit better for your next ideas. The English and the Spanish will only ever see one of those roles in you, no matter how much you argue for the other. You wouldn't get a trial with them, you won't get one with us."
"If you do this, you are no better..."
Flint stopped in front of her, maybe a step still dividing them, him straight and stoic as ever, her twisting in the unrelenting hold of Flint's men.
"I never claimed to be better than anyone. No one here claims to be better than anyone, no one but your father and you." He spared a look for Richard but the other man shied away, dropped his eyes down to his bare feet. "No pirate will ever claim to be better than the English or the Spanish. We are who we are. That's the part of this whole game that you never understood. We do what we do because we want to, because we can. We don't need some grand plan or some bigger picture. We are loyal to Nassau because she deserves it, because we choose to, not because we are gaining any riches from coming back here but you'll never understand it. Never. You want power for power's sake, not because it means surviving to you. You are done. It's over, Eleanor. It's judgement day." Flint turned away and tuned out Eleanor's screams, returning to Silver and Billy, turning to the taller of the two. "Get it started."
Billy nodded and then walked off, waving some men over, together they made brisk steps towards the brothel. Flint's eyes travelled to the bridge that connected it to the house across the street and he knew it was only appropriate. Eleanor's plans would have ended up with all of them in the hands of the enemy, all of Nassau would have hung, it was only fitting that her tyrany would end like this.
"Is this going to bite us in the ass?" Silver wanted to know quietly when people were crowding closer to the bridge, Richard and Eleanor being dragged into the brothel and up the stairs under loud cheers and hollering. Flint and Silver remained standing where they were, left behind now, a good distance from the bridge. Flint already had enough to haunt his nights, and regardless of how much he wanted to see her hang in this moment, he didn't need to hear her spine snap.
"If it does, Vane will have a reason to return," Flint tried himself at a bit of dark humor but Silver sent him a glare, tensed from head to toes. "No one will judge you, you know, if you don't want to see this play out."
"Oh, I want to," Silver showed that Flint couldn't read him so perfectly yet after all, no matter how much time they had spent together in close quarters as Silver lay fevering in the captain's cabin. "I want to see her hang. I will stay right here until I know she's dead, until I know that she can't hurt anyone else ever again." Flint nodded his understanding and briefly reached out to squeeze Silver's shoulder before dropping his hand again.
Their eyes were then drawn to the bridge again where Eleanor and Richard were pushed over to Billy and a crewmate from another captain's ship, both of whom were holding a noose. Richard had accepted his fate and held still while they set the rope around his neck and heaved him up onto the railing. Eleanor kept on fighting, kept on believing that there was a way out, two men had to hold her still so Billy could force the noose around her neck. Both men and Billy were then needed to get her onto the railing.
Billy looked over to them then and Flint simply have him a nod.
And with a scream and a curse it was over.
Nassau had rid herself of the Guthries.
--
"I was wondering if the news has reached you."
Charles didn't take his eyes off of the horizon, watching the waves carress it as the sun got lower and lower, the sky already burning orange. Of course the news had reached him, something like that made the gossip circle within their ranks like a wildfire, especially when Jack Rackham was part of your crew. Ears and eyes always everywhere, especially where they shouldn't be.
They had made a brief stop at Tortuga to load up on supplies and sell some of their load before sailing back to Ocracoke, it had only been the second time Charles had gone on the account for weeks on end since leaving Nassau. He had never felt younger and stronger. Never felt more alive.
"I heard about it, doesn't mean I care," he replied gruffly and didn't move when the other man sat down next to him on the sand. The Ranger had returned at sunrise to Ocracoke, the Revenge only a couple of hours ago, and a part of Charles had definitely known to be expecting this conversation. Teach had welcomed him back with arms open enough but the slight hesitation and uncertainty between them hadn't disappeared until months had passed. "I ended that part of my life when I left Nassau. She was dead to me and now she is dead for good."
And he was looking forward to the first real good night of sleep. The witch was gone, not able to hurt anyone ever again.
"So what about Nassau?" Teach let the questions keep coming and Charles looked over to him this time, tried to read on the old man's face what his intention here was.
"I told Flint that I would return if Nassau needed me," he reminded this man who had been father figure, best teacher and oldest friend to him in one. Teach also rolled his eyes and watched the men and women of both crews laugh around the fires.
"There is a lack of power on that island now, if you were to return you could seize it for yourself." Teach pointed it out as if Charles didn't know it himself but he also knew that his blood wasn't screaming for him to return to Nassau just yet.
"There are other captains still there," he gave in a weak excuse, not willing to talk about the real reason on why he was hesitating, not tonight.
"None of whom could hold the island like yourself," Teach didn't get the hint though and Charles rolled his eyes, shoulders stiff as he tried to let his body speak his wish to be alone with his head.
"Flint is more than capable of setting the crown on his head."
"Everyone is capable of setting a crown on their heads, the issue comes with holding onto it," Teach reminded him and Charles turned to look at him after all. "People come and go, we've seen our share of folks trying to execute powers over others. Right here. Right among us. No one achieved what Avery had. Flint isn't made to be a pirate king, wherever the man came from, it wasn't from hardship. He's too soft."
"You once accused me of being too soft." Charles remembered for the both of them and saw how Teach grimaced, no doubt thinking back to that argument on the beach of Nassau so many years ago.
"You became soft, deep down where it counts you never lost your hunger. You are what Nassau needs in the long run, Charles."
"And when that time comes, I will return." Charles said it for the uptenth time since arriving on Ocracoke. "You're aware of that, right? The plan was never to remain here forever."
"Oh, I know," Teach laughed and pushed himself up again, intend to return to his rum and his women now. "Between Nassau and me, I always knew who was going to win in the end. But this time I am not watching you leave for a woman. Watching you leave for your own island, that one I can support, can understand." And with a grin he left Charles alone, finally alone to watch over the sea again and ponder what sign he needed from Nassau to no longer feel afraid of seeing her again.
--
Nassau didn't collapse like a house of cards without the Guthries.
She also didn't suddenly bloom in a new spring and prosper without her demons.
In truth, things mostly staid the same.
Flint had walked the island in a bit of baited breath in the first days after this public execution but no one acted differently than before. The people still feared an English or Spanish invasion, still feared civilization coming for their paradise, but no less and no more than before.
To keep it like that, Silver had quickly found a man they could set into the Guthrie mansion to play governor for them, someone from a pirate crew of all things. Flint had listened to his arguments for a good two hours until he had believed it, but the man that Silver had chosen, Featherstone, could read and write, had had a good upbringing back in England and with the right clothes looked the part as well.
In the end, Richard Guthrie hadn't been special, he had been an old white man.
Which at the core was what the captains of the Royal Navy who had come to him in the past remembered of him as well. No details, their visits too rare for that. Old white man sitting behind a desk, making good profits.
"How long is this going to hold?" Silver wanted to know from him one day as they watched the Walrus being onloaded after another successful run.
"No forever," Flint answered him and let his eyes flicker over the ongoings in the harbor, "maybe not even a year but your idea gave us time. Time that we badly, badly need." He turned his head to look at the fort where people were working on now.
Every profit that a pirate crew brought in now was thrown into protecting Nassau, into preparing her for war.
"They are going to come for us one day," Flint went on and turned back, looking at Silver now, watched him watch the ships, the people, the crated being brought into the warehouses. "There will be a war, probably an ugly one. I don't know if we'll be prepared enough but we'll..."
"We'll fight," Silver interrupted him and rolled his shoulders, "we'll fight for her and for us because we have no other choice. If we lose, at least we'll have died with a sword in hand instead of hanging from a rope."
"Wasn't planning on dying at all," Flint lightened the mood and clapped a hand to Silver's shoulder on his good side before choosing to walk down to the warehouses, wanting to see with his own eyes how much gun powder the Demetor had brought in from Tortuga.
--
Six months.
The answer to the question of how long was answered after six months of peace and prosperity.
The British Navy vessel had come.
To reconquer their lost island.
By force.
--
"These men, who brought me here today, do not fear me. They brought me here today because they fear you and because they know that my voice, the voice that refuses to be enslaved, once lived in you. And may yet still. They brought me here today to show you death and use it to frighten you into ignoring that voice. But know this. We are many. They are a few. To face death is a choice. And they can't hang us all."
Charles Vane
--
"What do we do?" Silver bellowed over another gun going off and Flint caught him with one arm as the recoil of the guns sent the ship rocking against another hard wave. "They're..." But whatever he had wanted to argue didn't get finished as he suddenly lurged towards the other side of the ship and Flint needed to catch his footing before that sudden movement had him trip. As it stood, he only got his eyes back on Silver when he was already fumbling for the spyglass at his hip.
"Whatever are you looking for now!" Flint snarled out as he approached, mindful to keep out of way of his crew reloading the guns. "If you're expecting a...."
He had wanted to say miracle but Silver had wrenched a finger up, pointing past the Navy vessel and towards the open sea where a ship was approaching them. A ship that... Flint blinked and then wrestled the spyglass from Silver's hands, quickly raising it to his eyes so he could double check before making any assumptions. Silver was suddenly buzzing at his side, and there she was...
Back up.
Because that ship didn't need to fly the black to be recognized by his experienced eye.
The Ranger.
Vane had come.
As he had promised these long long fucking months ago.
"Stop firing!" He yelled towards his crew, looking for Gibson in the chaos, "get us closer! Get some people ready to board her!"
Help was on the way.
And for once, Flint wasn't too proud to admit he needed it.
--
Flint was one of the first over the rail and he just briefly caught Silver's eyes before he whirled around to attack and Silver turned to keep oversight and take control of the Walrus. It got bloody right away and the Navy men fought entirely more dedicated than Flint would have expected or had known from his own past experience on both sides of such a confrontation.
He pushed his mind to blankness and just let instincts take over, leading the party going below deck to take care of the gun crews. He heard when the Ranger arrived, mostly because the thuds of feet above him got louder and multiplied and some men even crossed his path or joined his men as they picked off the sailors one by one. He saw neither a sign of Vane nor Bonny, assuming that Rackham had in similar position as Silver taken control of the Ranger, until he went back up on deck when the fighting was done.
Difficult and not without losses as it had been.
He himself had gotten one blow against his right hip that had him grit his teeth as he ascended the stairs, pressing a hand against the bleeding. Nothing vital had been hit, otherwise he would have long since been dead, he knew as much, but it hurt like a bitch.
Bonny spotted him right away, calling out to someone hidden behind the men throwing the dead overboard after having searched them. And then there he was, walking through the crowd parting for him like it always had, on one hand not looking different at all and at the same looking like a completely new man.
This was not the Vane who had left Nassau.
This was the Vane who had once become the youngest pirate Captain in Nassau, devil may care attitude, blinding confidence and undeniable strength. This man now approaching him on the lower deck had healed from Eleanor's toxic touches, he had left that chapter behind and refound himself. This was the man who was going to help them save Nassau, and Flint already knew perfectly well how.
He only needed to take one look at the way even his own men threw fever looks at Vane's back.
"Never thought I'll say this," Flint began as he leaned against a mast and held out a hand to the other captain, "but it's damn good to see you." Vane barked a laugh and shook his hand.
"Heard Nassau was in trouble, thought I'll see what that is all about," Vane told him and then spotted the blood running down his leg, "that serious?"
"No, but it sure hurts like it," Flint admitted and it took a lot to confess it to the man who had once been his worst enemy.
But this man wasn't his enemy anymore, this man could win them the war.
"You want to keep the ship, I assume, otherwise you would have long since gunned her down. Have you someone able to captain her home? If not, and you've instead got some men you can spare and who won't shy away from the task, I'll have Anne do it." Vane proposed and Bonny appeared like the redhaired angel of Death she was, Flint nodded and looked around for Billy. He found his bosun only three steps behind himself.
"Pick some men to help man the ship under Bonny and stay yourself to keep them in line," he gave the order and Billy nodded.
"Aye, Captain."
"Jack will get the Ranger back to Nassau," Vane went on when Bonny followed Billy to no doubt pick her own share of men from the Ranger crew. "I assume you and I, we've got some things to talk about with your quartermaster."
--
That not every news had found its way across the sea to other pirate havens yet became clear when they stepped onto the deck of the Walrus and Vane froze as he caught sight of Silver making his way over to them.
"The fuck happened to you?"
"Something we can talk about in the Captain's cabin," Flint proposed, wanting to give Silver privacy for that tale and give himself something to sit down on. He took lead with Silver following behind and Vane no doubt slowing his steps down ridiculously so not run them over or circles around them, what a picture it had to be.
--
When they were in his cabin, Flint let Silver tell his story and instead dropped himself down on the long bench by the window front, eager to get the weight off of his leg. It would take a few days until it would be fine again. He watched both younger men once the pain wasn't turning his vision anymore, the relief immense.
Silver had claimed the chair behind Flint's desk while Vane had sprawled himself in the one before it, attentively listening to what Silver had to say. Those ever sharp eyes darkened when Silver reached the part about Eleanor's betrayal and maybe Flint tensed a little as he waited for Vane's reaction. He showed anger but it wasn't directed at Silver, it was directed at Eleanor and that made Flint breathe easier.
Vane had changed, back to the man he had once been, back to the man that Teach had praised over all seas to one day become the best of the best, to become a second Pirate King, to become the heir that Avery never had.
"There was nothing left to save when they found me afterwards."
"And you left her alive?" Vane directed at Flint, integrating him back into the conversation. He met the man's eyes and showed him that the answer he was about to give came from conviction and with genuine regret.
"Wasn't for a lack of trying," he pointed out and hated how Silver hunched in on himself, not that he had actively felt the paranoia of those days, too lost in the fever, "but you and I, we both know that Eleanor Guthrie knows the island very well."
"We know her better." Vane mentioned it with a hunger, a desperate starving hunger to see his island again and Flint actually breathed out deeply, pain momentarily forgotten upon the determination in Vane to see Nassau saved, to see his Nassau saved.
"Agreed, and Eleanor Guthrie paid for her mistakes, paid for claiming to be one of us when all she wanted was to play us like a puppetmaster." Vane winced and Flint didn't look away, they had been played out against each other too long by Eleanor's venomous fingers, only Nassau counted now. No rivalries, only Nassau. "I don't regret any of it, Charles, don't expect me to show sorrow after what she did to one of my own."
"I don't." Vane almost deadpanned and there was something feral about him again, the same controlled wildfire that Flint had hated upon first meeting him but now he welcomed it, they needed it so badly. Vane sprawled even broader on the chair, devil may care attitude visible on every inch of his face. "If you think there is still any part left in me who cares about her then you're terribly mistaken."
"We're on the same page then," Flint grunted out and heaved his injured leg up onto the bench, struggling to keep his vision from going dizzy as the pain flashed new. Maybe this needed to be looked at after all. When he looked back to the other men, Silver was already halfway out of his chair. "Sit down, John. This can wait."
"It can't wait if you can't keep your wits about yourself."
Flint was about to start arguing when he caught sight of the amused grin that was about to slip onto Vane's face and instead he glared at Silver to stop.
"It can wait until we finished this conversation at least," Flint insisted and Silver huffed but sat down again, "I want all cards out on the table." And Flint set his eyes back on Vane who didn't sit up straight but let his eyes show the razor sharp attention in him. "I risked too much already for Nassau to be set on the sidelines now. I am going to be involved, Vane. I will fight for Nassau and I will take my rewards when this is over. I don't want her but I'll take my share."
"I want to make one thing clear as well," Vane lost even the last bit of the lazy drawl in his voice, sat up straighter now, Flint watched him like the predator he was again. "I am not just returning to Nassau to save the island. I am returning so she'll be mine, and I will not let anyone take her away from me again, not while I am alive. From this day on, pirates control the island again, everyone is welcome to trade their goods, to call the island a safe harbor again, but Nassau is mine."
They looked at each other. Flint and Vane. Silver frozen between them, holding his breath until the decision over hierarchy and loyalty had fallen.
For Flint though it wasn't the war of morals he had once thought it to be.
Not anymore.
They both weren't the men anymore they had been two years ago, too much had happened, too much had been taken from both of them, too many times they had lost a war that had been fought out between them without their knowledge.
"I'm all in."
From now on, England and Spain were going to see that a new age had started for the Carribbeans.
A new golden age for a Pirate King.
Charles Vane was coming home and his reign had just now begun.
--
"What goes forth from this place, starting tonight, is a new story for Nassau. I watched her follow mad men. I watched her follow rich men. I watched her bow before tyrants. But now, it's time she had a King."
Billy Bones