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When Stede was a child, books were his first introduction to all of the colors the world had to offer. He would read about them, guided by the author’s descriptions, and allow himself to imagine all that he would one day be able to see. Some books offered a brief guide, tells to distinguish the different hues of gray apart and what their true colors were, so that one day the reader would not be lost when the world started presenting itself differently for them.
But it was never quite enough for young Stede. So he picked flowers. He would gather as many as he could and bring them home, where he’d lay them on the table, next to the largest botany encyclopedia he could find. And then he would go through each page until he found a flower he knew, and learned the name of its hue. He’d commit the flowers and their monochrome shades to memory, knowing that one day nature itself would be his guide, and he would see in it the colors that he had once memorized by name alone. It helped to think about this, whenever the gleeful shouts of “Baby Bonnet!” reached his ears, sealing his fate for the day. Because, as much as the others poked and prodded, teased and humiliated, they couldn’t take away the joy of one day being able to name all of the shades in the world to whoever he fell in love with. Because, surely, they would love him back just as much.
It’s Stede’s wedding anniversary, and everything is still presenting itself in grays. He’s come to terms with it, for the most part. Or so he tells himself. It’s awful, perhaps, but he takes a certain comfort in knowing that he’s not the only one trapped in an arranged wedding, even if he still yearns for a life of adventure. Something shifts, however, when Mary presents him with his gift.
“Do you like the colors?” she asks, gesturing towards the lighthouse painting, and suddenly Stede understands that there is a world of difference between them.
He tries not to show any alarm when he meets her gaze, expectant. “They’re lovely,” he murmurs, and the answer seems to satisfy Mary, who hesitantly starts explaining the different techniques she’s been experimenting with. Stede can only nod along, taking in what truly should not have felt as groundbreaking as it did.
Mary had had a life before him, he knows it. He might act the part, but Stede’s no fool. He likes Mary, he really does. There is a companionship between them, and Stede is grateful that out of all the strangers in the world, he married someone with a similar mindset to his. Mary is funny and kind and a good mother to his children. But in the same way he wouldn’t have chosen her, she wouldn’t have chosen him.
The thought of asking her crosses his mind, once. What was it like, to be in love? But she had mentioned it so casually, that it made him wonder. Had Mary perhaps assumed the same of him? That Stede too had someone he had loved, someone he had to leave behind to marry a stranger? Something aches inside him at the thought. It wasn’t quite jealousy, no. He can’t imagine it had been easy for her, whoever it had been. But there is a longing, and a wish to know what the world looked like when all of its colors were in full bloom.
So Stede holds back his tongue and asks nothing. He would like to pretend it was to prevent any painful memories from being unearthed, but truthfully, he didn’t want Mary to realize he could not see the same as her. Stede had experienced less of the world, and wasn’t sure which expression Mary would greet him with at the realization. He certainly knows how he feels about it.
And he doesn’t think he can handle a look of pity, no matter how brief or accidental it might be.
The first color Stede sees is red. It’s a flash so brief that he could almost convince himself that it had been his imagination, if it were not for the way he has to keep his hands from shaking as he folds the delicate piece of silk into Ed’s breast pocket, and for the way Ed’s breath catches in his throat when Stede touches him.
“Look at that. You wear fine things well.”
Ed’s brow is slightly frowned as he looks at the red silk, and Stede fears, for a moment, that he’s done something wrong. But when Ed looks up his expression is cautious, vulnerable, and Stede doesn’t know what to make of it. There’s something unspoken in the air, so delicate that Stede fears the slightest move will break it. He can feel his heart beat, beat, beat as Ed leans in, closing the gap between them until he suddenly pulls away, settling for an awkward shoulder pat instead.
And it isn’t until both of them walk away, until both of them look back, that Stede realizes he’s way in over his head. Because standing underneath the moonlight is Ed, and there are so many colors bleeding into Stede’s vision that he needs to grab onto the ship’s railing to steady himself, because he has never seen anything more beautiful.
And oh, how silly it is, that Stede’s immediate thought is on the lack of flowers at high sea to guide him.
Falling in love was not what Stede had imagined. It was not a single, unique moment that led to a world of color. Each day the dullness of grays decreased around him, a slow shift that was impossible to ignore. But it was always brightest when Ed was near him. If Stede had been a lighthouse for his family, then Ed was the sun, because he bled color onto everything he touched, impossibly warm.
And it was in man’s nature to reach for the sun.
So Stede does his best to make sure every day is different. That he can offer adventure, keep Ed happy and near him. They fall into a pattern, and learn each other’s habits.
Co-captains, they call each other. It’s almost like their own small private joke.
Stede takes delight in watching Ed slowly but surely add more color to his own wardrobe. The peek of a purple shirt underneath the leather, a different necktie taken from Stede’s closet each day. He hasn’t had the courage to ask about it yet– whatever was blooming between them still felt too new to approach, and there was a certain glee in having a secret kept to themselves, even if they both knew it. But the small touches of color that weren’t there when they met, or when Stede’s vision first started to change… Certainly, they meant that Ed was the same as him, didn’t they?
Maybe that’s why it hurts so much when Ed turns his back, and leaves with Calico Jack. Stede’s world feels like it’s shattering at his feet, and still the sky around him remains bright and blue, indifferent to his struggle and to his pain.
But Ed returns, and it’s almost like a final layer of saturation is added to Stede’s vision, the colors around him settling with the same determination that he feels in his chest, the flutter of happiness that comes with Ed’s smile, his wink, his voice.
Stede wants to say it won’t be as bad. That it won’t be as painful for Ed as it was for him when he realizes Stede won’t join him on the dock. But he knows what he’s doing when he chooses to return to his wife and his former life, and can only hope that Ed will one day understand, understand that whatever Stede had brought into his life would only drain him, take Ed away from the person he was meant to be. Stede’s love would only ruin him.
So he leaves, and he lets go.
Somewhere on the high sea, Ed reaches for the black paint. There’s a speechless anger he doesn’t know who to direct at. At Stede, at Izzy, at himself, at the colors which, in spite of it all, will not leave his vision, a reminder of the scar Stede had left in him.
So he paints his eyes black, for the vision that refuses to fade away, and for the love that led him astray.
It’s nothing short of a miracle that Stede happened across Ed’s red piece of silk, abandoned on the shore of the same island where they rescued Lucius from. The piece of fabric that had started it all. So Stede holds onto it, onto the wasted love that had been thrown away, red for Ed’s own bleeding heart.
The rekindling of their friendship is tentative at best. There is anger, and there is hurt, and Stede has to work hard to undo the damage that he has caused. But every time Ed cracks a smile before catching himself feels like a victory, and slowly but surely Stede manages to break down the walls Ed had rebuilt around himself. And he knows that all will be well after a long night filled with long conversations, when he hands Ed his piece of silk back, and Ed takes it.
His love has found its way back home.