Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You’ve never danced before?”

It’s not a bad thing, Stede thinks. Uncommon, maybe, but not bad. But Ed looks a little embarrassed about this new information in the air, so Stede quickly blurts out “I’ll help you, then!”

“What?”

“I-I can teach you!” Stede says, his heart feeling a little tight in his chest. “It’s something I’m accustomed to, after all, and it’s not hard to teach someone new!” This is true; Stede taught Alma to dance when she was younger, and it was more difficult to teach her the proper square-formation. To be fair, he thinks, she was still a little clumsy on her feet. 

But the idea of him teaching Ed how to dance seemed to have lifted the captain’s spirits; his eyes widen a little, and the smile that rises on his face leaves Stede feeling a little winded. Mary would smile at him like that– although, it never reached her eyes –and Stede felt nothing more than the same content. 

Was it content, now that he thinks about it?

“You sure? As good as I am on my feet with a sword, I can’t say the same for any type of dancing that isn’t drunk,” Ed jokes, but he’s already rising to his feet and his arms are crossed over the linen shirt, and Stede ponders if Ed had wanted to do this for a while.

“Oh, don’t worry about being perfect at first,” Stede says, waving a hand dismissively. “I’m not great at it, either, but it’s about having fun–”

“You’re great at a lot of things, Stede,” Ed mutters, and Stede coughs on his own words. The other realizes what he said, and for what feels like an hour they just stand there. In Stede’s study, where the candles flicker gently and the light makes Ed’s eyes look so much softer than what he has held himself to be.

Stede wonders, could the stars be captured there? before clapping his hands and gesturing to the door. “I’ll go get Frenchie to play us a tune, then! Maybe even help the crew dance!”

“Wait, we’re doing this in front of the crew?”

“Oh, why not?” Stede smiles, giving Ed a warm look. His chest felt light as if he was just a schoolboy again. This was a feeling foreign, and he knew it wasn’t due to some form of wanting to cry or from sorrow. “It would do us all some good, don’t you think? Of course, if you don’t want to, I could just hum a tune-”

“Let’s do it, then!” Ed says, lightly pushing past Stede and out onto the main deck. Faintly, from the door closing, he can hear him yell “Hey! Frenchie!” 

Stede feels… good. This is a good feeling, the sort of skin-buzzing itch he has in his chest and stomach. It’s not anxiety or a feeling of dread, he thinks. It’s a good one.

A good feeling.

So he follows Ed out onto the main deck, in the fuschia robe he’s started to like wearing around him, a smile on his face and he can hear Lucius groan somewhere above him. “Oh, don’t be so sour!” Stede says, waving him closer. “Come! You can learn something from this for Pete, you know.”

Lucius sighs dramatically, “I don’t need love counseling from you, thanks,” but takes a few steps down the stairs anyway. “But I’ll watch.” 

Ed appears with Frenchie in tow, who’s holding the lute with a strange smile on his face (the whole crew seemed to be overjoyed, for what reason?) as he steps up with a jump in his step. “Any sort of… feeling?” he asks, leaning against one of the railings and getting comfortable on his feet. “Like, do you want classic ballroom, or-”

“Anything simple and slow,” Stede says, smiling with his hands together. “Now, everyone! Come, get comfortable, I’m going to teach you how to dance whenever the chance arises! Ed will be my partner for this. Is that alright, Ed?”

“‘Course!” He says, stepping up to Stede with a smirk. “Blackbeard never steps down from a challenge.”

Somewhere behind him, he can hear someone scoff. Stede doesn’t need to call out who it is, as he knows who it belongs to, but Ed is already reaching his hands out awkwardly and clumsily. “Right! So I’ll lead first,” because Stede thinks if Ed touches his waist he might have an allergic reaction of some kind, “Ed, put your hands on my shoulders.”

“Huh?”

“Just-” and Stede takes him gently by the wrists, guiding them to rest on the soft fabric. “There! And I’ll lead.” And he places his hands on Ed’s waist, and he suddenly realizes his face feels much too warm for the cold, ocean night air. 

It’s too dark for anyone to tell if he was coming down with a fever, and he feels fine, so no one should notice. Hopefully.

(Frenchie gives Lucius a look. Lucius stares at him with wide eyes, shrugging his shoulders in astonishment. Frenchie just smiles and shakes his head.)

A very slow and unfamiliar tune starts, but Stede can pick up the beats well enough to fall into a sort of role to guide Ed. “Now, we’ll do a simple waltz. It’s a box shape! Easy to learn and remember; just follow my lead,” he says, staring at Ed with familiarity. Ed stares back, the crows' feet at the corners of his eyes crinkled up a bit in a smile. 

Either he was finally dying because his heart had picked up its pace as they stared at one another, or he was just experiencing a sudden rush of excitement at the idea of dancing with a friend.

Back, left, up, right. “It’s a simple pattern, you see?” He announces, glancing back at the crew. He’s thankful they all seem like they’re paying attention because he feels Ed’s hands grip a little bit on his shoulders (which, in instinct response, makes his hands tighten on Ed’s hips). “A square! Just back, left, up, right, and repeat!”

He hears murmurs from the crew and another scoff from Izzy. “We don’t need to be learnin’-”

“Sh!” Wee John and Fang hush him. “Don’t ruin this learning experience for all of us!”

(Ed feels like he’s going to die. Or he already has. His legs feel so awkward and his mouth is a little dry because Stede’s light grip has turned to not-light and Ed thinks he might have fallen over if it wasn’t for the crowd around them.

Bless and yet curse this wonderful lighthouse of a man.) 

Frenchie plays a little longer, and Stede talks a bit about the mannerisms of a waltz and why, while there are different forms and more customs that follow afterward, it’s not important to know.

Below deck, under the creaking wood, Jim huffs and leans on the wall as Oluwande stands in front of them. Blocking the way to their bedroom. 

“Come on!” Oluwande asks, hands on his sides as Jim glares from under their hat. “Just one? I-I don’t know how to dance, either! Not like anyone’s going to see us down here, anyway. It won’t even be in silence! Frenchie’s going to be playing for a while, you know?”

“It’s stupid.”

“But that’s why it’d be fun! ” Oluwande says, stepping closer with a smile. “Come on, just humor me this once? I’ll pay for whatever you want next time we land ashore.”

“... anything? ”

Oluwande sighs, rolling his shoulders slightly before nodding. “Anything.”

Jim smiles, and he can feel his heart skip a bit as they take off their coat and hat. “Fine. But you better not yell if I step on your feet.” 

Jim did not step on his feet at all. He did, once, and they laughed at the apologies tumbling from his mouth. He smiles at them under the dim candlelight, almost grinning at them. He was smitten.

“What’s really important is that you just know the dance!” Stede says, finally standing still. His hands haven’t left Ed’s hips, because he can feel Ed trembling a little, and he wonders if he did something. 

‘You’re making him ill, ’ Nigel hisses in his ear, ‘you’re killing him. Nothing but a plague and a parasite to everyone–’

“Are you alright, Ed?” Stede whispers, and Ed’s sweating a little. Oh, dear, did he do something? “Do you need to lay down?”

“I’m fine!” Ed yells, startling him a bit. “Just- shit, sorry, uh… I’m good! All good here.”

“It’s gettin’ a little late, and my fingers are starting to hurt,” Frenchie admits, holding up the red fingers to emphasize. “Sorry, captain, but I think I need to call it for tonight.”

“No, you’re right,” Stede nods, realizing how much time did pass. “Let’s call it a night; we do need our rest, after all!”

Izzy mutters something, but Lucius just says “Oh, shut up, prick,” and Stede just nods to himself. “Yes, let’s call it a night.”

The crew disappears to their respective sleeping areas, and Stede just realizes he’s still holding onto Ed. And he realizes Ed is still holding onto him. Awkwardly, Stede pulls his hands away, gently patting the other’s shoulder. “You’re a lovely dancer, Ed,” he says, smiling. “I’d love to do this again one night. Perhaps with less of a crowd, though?”

“Yeah,” Ed breathes, hands unmoving from Stede’s shoulders. His eyes flicker for a second, and Stede is curious as to the reason until he leans closer. “You’re- you’re a good teacher, too.”

“Oh,” Stede says, and his face is warm again. “Thank you.”

They stand there, in the cold ocean air that feels too warm, with Ed’s warm hands pressed onto Stede’s shoulders. His hands rest awkwardly at his side, and he feels like he might fall over from how weak his legs are. 

“Are you really okay?” He asks. “You’ve been sweating a little bit the entire dance! I hope it wasn’t much, do you need to sleep?”

“I’m fine!” Ed says, leaning away. “I did say I wasn’t great on my feet outside of dancing, didn’t I?”

Nonsense! You’re a natural dancer, is what Stede thinks. “You’re a lovely dancer,” is what Stede says accidentally. “I just– well, you have a natural grace! Your footwork is wonderful, and I’d love to teach you more dances!”

Ah, did he ruin it? He probably did. A stupid idea is what this was, Stede screwed up his friendship–

Ed laughs and leans slightly against Stede’s body. “Oh, you’re funny,” he exhales, smiling at him. “Can… can you teach me more, though? I’d, uh, prefer it in private though.”

“Of course!” Stede agrees, smiling wide and feeling his chest explode into groves of oranges and fireworks. His heart was beating fast again, and he really did have to go see if there was something wrong with him in case he had an actual allergy or something. His hands found purchase and rested back on Ed’s waist, and he thinks about how lovely Ed would probably look under ballroom lighting. 

He really meant a lot to Stede, now that he thinks about it. He’s never felt like this before about anyone, though– not about Mary, not about any of the few connections he had as a child. It was such a foreign feeling, but it wasn’t a bad one.

Ed was a foreign feeling, but not a bad one. Ed was– is a perfect one.

“Let’s go rest,” Stede says, pulling away. “It is late.”

Ed just follows him into his quarters, and Stede almost makes it to his bed before he’s stopped with a hand holding his wrist. “Ed? Something the matter?”

“Can we dance again?” he asks with something shining in his eyes. “It’s- I don’t think I caught everything you talked about. Just… a quick refresher! Yeah, just a quick one. If you don’t mind?”

Stede smiles, nodding slightly and returning to the captain. “Of course. Do you want me to hum a song, too?” He hopes that isn’t a weird suggestion. It helped Alma, all those years ago, maybe it would help him?

“Sure,” Ed mutters, smiling back at him. “I’d like that.” 

Stede’s chest feels tight again, but he supposes his concern for if he is dying can wait. Ed's smile, soft on his face and calloused hands reaching out to lead him this time made Stede feel alive after many, many years of content. He hopes this feeling never goes away if it’s how he is with Ed.

“I still can’t believe they’re acting like this,” Lucius sighs, arms crossed as he peaks out from behind the door. “They’re hopeless. There’s no saving them.”

“Aw, don’t be such a downer, mate!” Frenchie says, lightly elbowing his arm. “I mean, Blackbeard- Ed looks like a guy with… a lot of issues, and I don’t think Stede has ever had an actual friend before.”

“He reads us fairy tales!” Lucius complains, “he should at least have an idea of what love is!”

“Uh, fair enough.”

The two watch their captains disappear into Stede’s study, and Lucius groans dramatically. “God. I hate watching this.”

“Hate watching what?” 

“Nothing!” Lucius says, closing the door. “Hi, Pete! Let’s go to bed, don’t think about what you may have overheard from Frenchie and me!” 

Chapter Text

Stede supposes that a sword pointed at his neck was very fair. After all, he failed to meet up with Ed, and he wasn’t expecting open arms and a kiss.

He wants a kiss. He really does– like, badly. But Stede can wait. He has to apologize and fix his mistakes.

“Get the fuck off my ship, Bonnet,” Ed- Blackbeard. He wants to be called Blackbeard now. Stede can’t help but still think of them as the same, unable to really make that mental wall separating Blackbeard from Ed.

For the flaws and perfections, Stede loves Edward Teach as a whole. Forgive him for being unable to make such a separation. 

“Let me state my reasons first,” Stede pleads. He is sweating a bit, but it’s more because of the sun beating down on his face rather than the lethal and sharp blade to his throat. He can recognize by the way Ed’s arm shakes that he wouldn’t really slice at him. Or, at least, not at anything lethal. 

“No. Get the fuck off my ship.”

“Ah, just for a minute?” 

He can hear footsteps behind him and he sees Jim- when did they get here? -practically jump from the stairs and out of his vision. Oluwande must have climbed up. 

Ed’s face twitches. His brows are angled into something angry but his eyes… 

Oh , Stede thinks, sighing quietly and hand gently moving to rest on the sword on his hip. The stars can be captured there. How lovely . He thinks about the night he had folded the silk neatly and thinks about that same piece of fabric tied around his wrist. His eyes catch the black fabric around Ed’s neck, and he feels himself frown. 

“I’m so sorry, love,” Stede says unthinkingly. Ed takes a step away as if he had shot him (oh, Christ, the gunshot-) and he sneers. “Ed-”

“Fight me,” Ed spits, the kohl streaks down his face cracking at the sneer he projects. “Fight me, Bonnet! Die like a real damn fucking pirate!”

The crew is entirely quiet. Even Izzy, thank Christ, has kept his mouth shut. And Stede just sighs and nods, because he owes so much to Ed. Edward, Blackbeard, Ed , he owes so many apologies and pleads and hand-holding and… 

Stede owes Ed everything. 

“If that’s what you wish. I hope you don’t mind if we chat while we do?” Stede says, pulling his sword out from its sheath. “I have a lot to say.”

And he does. Truly. Stede needs to apologize and confess, to be a little angry because he did throw Lucius overboard, to be very honest because what Chauncey said to him really had just awful effects on his logic and thinking, and Stede just needs to bare it. Air it out to the open sea air, and apologize for hurting Ed the way he did. 

Ed lunges, and Stede blocks it. He’s backed up a bit before Ed swipes to his left and forces Stede to turn on his feet. 

He refuses to slash at Ed. He refuses to hurt him even more than he has. 

“Edward Teach, nothing I say will truly fix what I did to you, but I’m so sorry, ” Stede starts, blocking a pretty impressive swing down. “I wasn’t thinking properly. I wanted to, I still want to sail away with you! To China, to the edges of the earth, anywhere with you!” 

“Fucking fight me! ” Ed screams, and Stede can see some of the kohl start to drip down his face– fresh tears, Stede has messed up again, but he can’t stop now. He can’t stop apologizing now. 

“You’ve made me feel something I’ve never felt in my entire years of being alive!” Stede yells, wincing and yelping a bit when Ed’s blade catches on his arm– the worn linen shirt staining red. “I did leave you but–!”

“Because you didn’t want to be with me! ” Ed yells, anger and fury in his entrancing eyes, and Stede stumbles backward to avoid the rails. “You thought I was just some toy – I’m not being your fucking plaything, Bonnet! Go back to your fucking wife and family and leave me alone!”

“It was because of me! ” Stede shouts back, finally taking a slash at Ed. “ I left because I’m a plague! ”

“Chauncey- that captain who had ordered me to be executed -had pulled me from my bed before we were supposed to meet,” Stede says, and Ed stills for a moment before swiping with more fervor. He parrots what Chauncey had told him, how “I’m nothing but a plague, I bring misery and I hurt people, Ed,” and in the corner of his eye, he can see the twin brothers glare at him. 

Behind him, Stede can hear Izzy clap and laugh. Fucking asshole.

They had been fighting in a waltz , he realizes. His shirt is bloody and his legs are starting to shake, but he refuses to falter. “I went back to my family to apologize and to do what I thought was right, because Ed, I didn’t know what I was feeling towards you!” Ed yells and slashes at his chest. “I thought I just- I had to be content with what I was told!” Stede continues, despite the pain in his arm. “My wife– she had already moved on! I was declared dead, and- and she finally told me what love is like!”

“And– Ed, I’m sorry , I’m so sorry,” Stede says, wincing when his blade is knocked from his hand and he’s kicked to his back. 

“Last words, Bonnet,” Ed hisses, glaring down at him. His boot is pressed onto Stede’s chest, but it isn’t digging. Stede can see sorrow and, he thinks, hope, in his eyes. He will take that chance.

“I love you, Edward Teach,” Stede confesses. “I love you- I loved you, and I love you. I didn’t meet you at the docks because- because I’m a stupid coward, and–”

(Izzy raises his gun and yelps when it’s knocked from his hand and into the water, the dull pain of wood smacking into it making him confused. Frenchie glares at him, lute held securely in his hand as Fang grabs Izzy by the arms. Dammit.) 

“–Ed, I never knew love until I met you,” Stede continues, and every single word makes Ed crouch down and down and down, “you did things to me and you do things to me, I feel so… I feel like I’m back holding that silly petrified orange because the scent of the citrus of that field makes me think of you . I feel like when I folded that red silk of yours and was just amazed at how you looked- I feel wonderful. And I know this will mean nothing because I’ve hurt you in such a way I can’t ever fully fix but I’m here now–”

“Stede,” Ed breathes, eyes soft as his own sword clatters to the wood below him. “Shut up,” he says and kisses him. Kohl enters his sense first, but there’s the familiar taste of tobacco and alcohol and something familiar as they kiss. 

Stede slowly sits up, despite the pain in his arm and chest from where Ed had slashed him, kisses him back.

(“Holy shit, finally, ” Lucius groans, leaning on Pete as he watches them kiss. “I’m still mad at him. But at least this shit is somewhat over with.”

“They’ve definitely got a few problems to work out first,” Wee John says, arms crossed. “But at least they’re together. Right?”

“Where the hell is Oluwande!?” Roach yells, looking over the small crowd, “he owes me money!”) 

Ed pulls away first. “I’m still mad,” he mutters, hands cradling Stede up. “But I… thank you. Don’t leave me again, please.”

“I won’t even dream of it,” Stede says, and he means it. “I am sorry. And I truly don’t deserve your mercy or grace, but I’m glad you listened.”

“I missed you so much,” Ed replies, helping him sit up and, Stede really can’t believe this, hugs him. Stede knows the dark fake beard and the shadow around his eyes will stain his shirt, but it’s fine. “I- I’ve never felt like this about anyone. Man or woman.”

“We’ll figure it out together,” Stede whispers, finally bringing his hands to comb through the curls he had always wanted to touch. “We can figure this out. Together. And I will apologize for as long as I need.”

“... thank you, Stede,” Ed mutters, kissing softly at his shoulder. There’s a bit of wetness and Stede can feel his body slightly shake at each cry. “Thank you.”

Stede thinks of the stars in his eyes, the scent of lavender in his hair, and the citrus he tasted when they kissed. Stede thinks of, maybe, a small house on the coast with orange trees and lavender bushes and a small lighthouse that will guide them home on each adventure. He thinks of Ed in a soft linen shirt with the slightest of beard and a warm fire. He thinks of what could be home. 

But that is for down the road, Stede reminds himself. “Recovery and apologies first,” Stede whispers, kissing Ed’s cheek. “We have many things to discuss, don’t we?”

Red and blue stained hands join together as Ed helps Stede up. “Throw Izzy in the brig,” Ed tells Fang. The first mate guffaws, eyes wide before he glares. “Fucking pansy-”

“Or keelhaul him,” Ed offers. “Whichever would be more entertaining for you guys.”

Stede is guided into his old quarters, which is… very bare. The painting Mary had made for him so long ago hangs over the empty firepit, and Stede just accepts the emptiness. 

They can redecorate together. 

“Lay down,” Ed guides him to the bed, helping him sit and takes his shirt off. He disappears, with a promise of a washcloth and basin and someone– most likely Roach –to help with the stitching and medical work. 

Stede thinks. He thinks about his crew, who had defended him in front of the navy . He thinks about the stupid adventures they’ve had and how he realizes, they’ve become family to him. 

He can imagine a small coastal town, with small brick houses he used to see on carriage rides out in the country with his father. He can see one main establishment, and in the evening the windows glow with candlelight, and warmth and laughter echo from it every single day. He imagines snow coating the buildings, he feels sun basking on the grass between each building, he can visualize and think of a place for them to call home when they’re ready to retire. 

He thinks of wanting to see Ed in proper ballroom lighting and realizing he’d much rather see him in the sunset again, but in the comfort of a place they call home and somewhere away from the British and the Scots and the French and Dutch–

away from Europe. Away from a place so determined to make them fall.

“Hey,” Ed reappears, Roach and Lucius in tow, “I… uh, got some help.”

“Did you apologize, too?” Stede asks, and Ed’s small nod makes him smile. “Lucius?”

“I’m still mad , cause that water was fucking cold,” the scribe starts, arms crossed, but he sighs. “But… I guess I can get why. Doesn’t change anything, but. Yeah.” 

His wounds get treated. The crew gets settled, Izzy is locked in the brig (Stede finds out one of the many storage rooms had been turned into one) and they now sit in the empty, barren quarters. “Sorry about, uh, throwing out your stuff,” Ed apologizes, and Stede just hushes him. 

“It’s alright,” he says, smiling. “You were mad at me for a good reason. Besides, we can decorate it together now.”

Together.

There’s a town up north by the sea. A lovely small town, with a population of less than forty and strong enough that the Brits were scared of them. 

The buildings are all old and tiny but there’s this weird mariner appearance it gives, despite none of the citizens have been privateers. There’s one tavern that’s always lively with song and laughter, and each winter they all celebrate surviving another year.

Orange trees are scattered around the houses, despite the weather and location being more than unconditional. Wildflowers and lavender grow in random, amazing bursts, and the food there is cooked with age and love. 

It’s not on any current maps. Nor is it really known to anyone outside of one upper-crust family. 

If you sit by its shoreline, on quiet August nights, you can hear stories echo out from the tavern’s back door. Stories about the Kraken and the man believed to be cursed by God freeing it from its shackles. Fables of a bard and charlatan sneaking off with nothing but wood and ink and love. Tales of cats and sirens and an enigma capturing the heart of a first mate and sneaking off to the end of the Earth. 

Stories about unconventional love and saltwater and the scent of citrus.