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Finally, the Lover's Lighthouse had found it's target. Once the captain's ship, now a stain and disgrace captained by a rumoredly timid and gentle man.
The Lover's Lighthouse 's crew and captain were not anxious nor were they in a hurry. They were patient, knowing they would catch up. The Revenge couldn't possibly dream to get away in time.
"Captain Crown," a voice followed the knock at the door.
The captain was looking out the window, watching the horizon. If someone didn't know better, they'd describe him as thoughtful, or even a gentleman.
They would be correct in calling him a gentleman, to a degree. He certainly knew his manners and the rules- all his crew knew them too. He stood regal and refined in his black and dark clothes fit for any Englishman- besides the colors. Every single thing he wore was dark. Today he wore black and a deep, dark red.
"Come in."
The door opened, and the captain turned to see who entered. It was Isadore, his first mate. "We're catching the Revenge 's waves. We'll be on them by dark."
"Slow the Lighthouse ," Captain Crown said. "We'll meet them at dawn."
"Yes, Captain." Isadore gave a short bow, then left the room.
Crown gazed around his quarters, brightly lit by the sunlight outside. There was a small library and wardrobe, his table and desk, a few chairs. He walked to the table where there was a map laid out, and knives and other paperweights were at the corners holding it flat.
Half a petrified orange... he should have thrown that out by now. He picked it up, the corner of the map curling inward without its weight.
He studied it for a moment, feeling its weight in his hand.
He would get rid of it in the morning, along with any other trace of his past. Once he killed Edward Teach, he would have nothing to hold him back. Not anymore.
Isadore and just a few others were present with their Captain aboard the Revenge. Isadore was the only crew member to know a slightest bit of the reason why this was so important to his captain.
Isadore was proud to serve Captain Crown. He was worse, better, more ruthless, and cutthroat than any other pirate before him. More than the legend Blackbeard, but he was never mentioned aboard the Lighthouse.
The crew of the Revenge looked weak in respect to the crew of the Lighthouse . Or disrespect. It was nearly offensive for such a soft group of people to be the target of the captain. Hardly worthy of one serving under such a captain like Stede Crown. Had he really once captained this ship? He'd certainly flourished where he was captain now.
"Stede?" One member of the hostage crew finally asked, breaking the silence since Captain Crown had first boarded.
"John." He responded simply. He then turned to Isadore. "I'm going to have a conversation with the captain of this ship. Then we will depart."
"What are we going to do with this crew?" Isadore asked, eager to hear what he'd decided.
Crown looked over the crew carefully, looking them each in the eyes- those who'd meet his, anyway. He was resolved. He hummed in response to Isadore, then made his way below deck.
Nothing had changed. Not a thing. It was still much more a home than the Lighthouse will ever be. It was remarkable, the difference in the ships. Maybe it was because the crew who now served him understood what it was to be a pirate crew, not soft or caring, but cruel and determined.
The captain's quarters were just about as he'd left them, save a few personal changes.
There was a man in a red dressing gown looking out the windows in the back of the room. He turned, smiling to face Crown. His smile faltered when he saw him.
"Stede?"
"Edward," Stede replied. "I have some business with you. Shall we?" He gestured to the table, where there were two chairs on opposite sides.
Ed nodded and sat on the chair closest to him, while Stede sat across from him.
"I've missed you," Ed reached across the table, hoping Stede would reach back.
Stede kept his hands folded in his lap.
"You... you look good, Stede," he offered.
"This ship was once mine, and it is now, once again, in my possession." He stated, ignoring the compliment.
"Co-captains?" Ed dared to suggest, smiling at the thought.
"No. There will be one captain."
Ed realized where the conversation was headed.
"I could use someone like you on my crew. My first mate is... adequate, but nothing like Blackbeard," he said. "What do you say?"
They both knew the answer before it was spoken.
"No," Ed said simply. "I can't.”
"I thought so," Stede stood, knocking his knuckles on the table. Ed stood, too, and came around the table to stand before Stede.
Even though he was taller, he felt small... looked small, in front of Stede.
"Is it really you?"
Stede frowned and waited for an explanation.
"Are you the Un gentlemanly Pirate, now?" Ed asked. "Did- are you- ...?"
"Yes, I am." He confirmed it with pride.
"But you- he-" Ed tried to grasp this. His Stede, his rescuer, his love, his lighthouse, now causing wrecks? Seeking out the vulnerable and laying waste? Destroying, stealing... killing? Was it really true?
"Do you have trouble believing this?" Stede asked, rhetorically. He rolled his eyes, trying not to think about how uncomfortable he was with someone being so physically close to him. He could smell Ed- his breath, his clothes, his old scent. He cleared his throat. "Believe it."
"What happened to you?"
"You left me."
"I- what?"
"You left me alone," he took a step forward, and Ed almost stumbled on the hem of the gown. "Your man was sold to the highest bidder, and that was Chauncey."
"Stede-"
"He nearly killed me, you know?" He asked. "He led me to the woods nearby and nearly killed me." He scoffed, smiling for a moment. "He ended up killing himself, by accident. I went back to Mary." He looked away. What a stupid idea that had been. Well, it was along what needed to be done to make him who he is today. "I killed a man, I chose to. For the first time. Well, my wife couldn't have me stay after I killed her lover. I left, and I chose to become what you-" he jabs a finger against Ed. "taught me. Everything I am now is from- because of you ."
He said the final word with such venom that Ed couldn't help but step back again and he found himself pressed against the wall. His eyes were wide. Guilt and shock were all he knew in this moment. This couldn't be true. The man who saved Blackbeard? He was the one who was even worse? How could that be possible?
He gasped as he felt a knife sink into him. On his right side, higher than he was familiar with. He looked down to see the blood already pouring out.
"You did this to me," Stede said, his voice shaking. He took a deep breath and shifted, his shoulders relaxed and face resolved. "You're paying for it."
"Stede-"
He didn’t finish the sentence, instead silenced with a kiss. It seemed the brutal captain couldn't resist one last touch- one last piece of vulnerability and real intimacy.
"No longer." Stede stepped back. There was no trace of anything but resolve. He waited until Ed was on the floor, staring up at him, pleading for any sort of comfort or warmth. There was none to be had, but he held out for a few moments, waiting for a last-second change of heart.
There was none.
He closed his eyes, thankful at least that the last thing he saw was the man he loved so much.