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Stede Bonnet had always been a hopeless romantic at heart. He didn’t care what anyone else thought—not his father, always berating him for having his head stuck in the clouds, not his schoolmates who teased and taunted him for picking flowers, there was absolutely no one that could make him feel any different. Of course, then, he was enchanted with the unremovable red string tied to his left pinky, the one only he could see that always led out of the door or gate of where he was.
It took him a while to figure out what it was—it was clear his father didn’t like the subject when he first brought it up, so he was careful not to talk about it around him. However, they had plenty of servants that were willing to help him understand, and, after sitting him down with a few sweets, the cook finally told him about the concept of soulmates, and what a soulmate bond was. Somewhere out there, someone was destined to be in love with him. The string was meant to make life easier, to save people from the pain and heartbreak of bad relationships to find the one who was meant to be.
It was never clear exactly what the bond was—sometimes, pairs that found each other remained the best of friends, while others fell deeply in love with one another. Sometimes people led happy lives without ever finding the other side of their string—others had tragedy befall them and found their string cut one day, the fraying end no longer leading them anywhere.
In Stede’s mind, he believed everyone would be excited by the thought that somewhere out there, there was someone waiting to be loved, and someone who would love him in return.
Of course, his father had different plans for him. He insisted on this arranged marriage, claiming they needed to marry the right people to be sure their name continued on for generations, and continued to prosper as wealthy nobles. Stede tried to bring up the string on his pinky, leading out the carriage door, but he was shot down almost immediately. He shouldn’t focus on something like that. All he needed to worry about was the money.
Still, Stede hoped against all odds that, by some coincidence, his father had found his soulmate for him to marry. He would gladly marry whomever he had to if that was the case. When the carriage came to a stop and he followed his father out, he met the eyes of Mary, a fair and well-dressed woman, but his eyes immediately dropped down to her pinky, and hers seemed to do the same to his. He couldn’t see anything there, and his own string seemed to worm its way through his legs and point off behind him in the complete opposite direction of her. Trying to hide his disappointment, he looked up with a weak smile as his father began the introductions. She seemed to do the same.
Neither party wanted to disappoint their parents so they went through with the marriage, trying to enjoy the lives together they were forced into. While part of Stede knew he wasn’t necessarily supposed to marry the other person on the end of his string and he could be happy with Mary, he sometimes couldn’t help but think about the possibilities if he had. To combat this, he started wearing gloves more often, hiding the string through his clothes and down the leg of his pants so it was harder to see, and refusing to look at the hands of those in front of him when the string pointed that direction. He had a wife and kids now, there were more important things to take care of.
He and Mary weren’t the perfect match, though, and there were clearly topics of interest that they clashed with each other on. He had never really thought about leaving her until that fateful night when she said something about living life to the fullest, but as his mind once again returned to the string around his finger, he knew he would never be satisfied if he didn’t at least find who was on the other side of that string.
The ship was more than a breath of fresh air, it was freedom. Freedom to make his own choices in life, freedom from all the confines that had previously held him back, freedom from all those things he never enjoyed but was forced to do. He stopped wearing gloves on the ship, watching as the string always led under the cabin door when he was inside, or dipped off into the sea when he was above deck. If he traveled enough, surely, he would reach the other end of the string eventually.
“What do you know of soulmates, Lucius?” he asked one day as the man in question sat across from him, writing their conversation down in the large journal. He didn’t miss how Lucius paused the quill for a moment and stared at his own hand.
“You know, I’m not entirely sure,” he admitted, looking up at Stede as he pursed his lips. “That matter’s a little complicated for me, to be honest. See, I’ve…” he faltered, and suddenly couldn’t seem to look Stede in the eye.
Gently, Stede reached across the seating area and took the journal out of his hand, setting it aside. “You can tell me anything, Lucius. I won’t tell a soul.”
“Well, I think I’ve met mine,” he said, pink dusting the surface of his cheeks. “What am I saying, I know I’ve met mine.”
“But you haven’t said anything yet, have you?”
He shook his head. “That obvious?”
“A little.”
“I guess I’m just—afraid. I don’t even know if that makes any sense, really. But in our line of work, things can get complicated. I don’t want to mess this up, and I’m terrified he won’t feel the same about me.”
Stede nodded sympathetically. “You don’t have to force yourself to do anything, alright? Perhaps the best way to move forward is to let the topic come up naturally. Maybe you can try and show off your hand more in conversations to draw attention to it.”
He grimaced and shook his head rather quickly. “That would make me feel worse, honestly. This current situation, I can deal with. But if I have to find out it’s a one-sided bond…”
That was the first time Stede had heard of that. He sat up immediately, cocking his head as he listened intently to Lucius’s explanation and nervously fiddled with his own string. He had never felt nervous about his soulmate before, but now that he knew some people had a soulmate bond, but couldn’t see it—well, it was hard to calm the butterflies in his stomach, especially after he dismissed Lucius.
He asked Oluwande the same question when they found themselves stranded on the beach, wanting to hear if anyone else on the crew had different opinions on it.
“Can’t say much on it,” he shrugged. “Mine was cut a long time ago.”
“Oh,” Stede said, his hand moving to rest on his chest. “I’m so sorry to hear that, my boy.”
“It’s whatever. I’ve had time to get over the whole thing. Only wish I knew the reason for it, but I can’t let it bring me down. It’s something you have to move on from.”
He nodded sympathetically. “What about you, Jim?”
The only response was the shaking of their head, which Stede understood as being the same issue.
If he had been paying any more attention to his string that day, and not worrying over his crew members and then fixing their mistakes, he would have noticed that, instead of pointing out into the sea as was usual, the string pointed to a different side of the island. He might have just written it off as it being necessary to go around the island to find his soulmate, however, and then begin worrying more about the issues that his own crewmates face with theirs, afraid of it happening to him.
The worrying, of course, came later. Once they had gotten the ship back in the water, once the sails were lowered and the wind picked up their boat again to carry it out past the rough crashing waves and into the calm sea, he noticed the change. The string still dipped back into the sea as it always had when he was above deck, but it had never picked a consistent place, moving around the ship and almost always to the front or sides. Now, however, it remained almost motionless over the edge of the stern. He began to fear they had somehow missed his soulmate.
He tried to clear the thought from his mind and focus on something else, but unless he was hiding away in his cabin, where it only led out the door, it was hard not to. And what kind of a captain would he be if he remained hidden in his cabin?
So, he tried to engage more with the crew. Frenchie tried teaching him a few sea shanties (he always seemed off pitch in every line, no matter how hard he tried), Oluwande spent some time explaining what all the rigging was and what it did (Stede still wasn’t quite sure why some of them moved and some of them didn’t, but he wasn’t going to ask again even though Oluwande was definitely the most patient of the lot), and on one memorable occasion, had a conversation with a seagull with Buttons as a translator. He still wasn’t sure if that was real or not, but he assured Buttons that Karl was a fine gentlebird, and he was welcome aboard The Revenge whenever he wished.
He’ll never forget the one moment the crew gathered around again to tell stories to each other, however. It was becoming a regular occurrence—while Stede still read to them from his library each night, the books he had versus the stories the men would make up, or relay as something that had actually happened, were of a different caliber. It seemed like no one was surprised when Black Pete took the lead and began to tell another story about Blackbeard.
“What do you think Blackbeard thinks about soulmates?” Stede tries, muscles tensed as he waits for the berating he would almost always get from his father if he so much as briefly mentioned the subject.
All that happened, however, was Black Pete scoffing. “Blackbeard doesn’t have a soulmate. I doubt any real pirates like him would.”
“Oh,” Stede said, pondering his words for a moment before Lucius stood in a huff and stormed off, drawing the attention and focus of the crew. Black Pete floundered, reaching a hand up and looking like he was going to call out to Lucius, but decided against it and ended his story abruptly, taking his seat again and refusing to talk when questioned about it. Stede quickly redirected the attention to somewhere else, now focused on trying to keep the crew occupied and happy so that Lucius and Black Pete could deal with whatever their issues were.
Stede continued to ignore the string as they made their way to the Republic of Pirates, internally relieved it still went out to sea as they climbed off of the ship, meaning he could focus on trying to ransom out their hostage. Perhaps he was still distracted by it, however, or just entirely too trusting—either way, the knife in his gut really was one hell of a wakeup call.
Was he really cut out for this lifestyle? Did he make a mistake by searching for his soulmate out on the open seas like this? These questions of doubt and wondering about his self-worth were all that ran through his head as the Spanish tied him up and prepared his noose. He worried about his soulmate right to the last minute, wondering that if he had gone about searching for them some other way, they wouldn’t soon find their string cut, forever stuck wondering what had severed it and never getting to meet Stede.
Of course, then, he was extremely grateful for the rescue by the other pirate crew, even if he didn’t know who they were, nor why they were helping. All he really remembered was seeing the vague form of a few crew members before the pain of his injuries became too much and he passed out. Not really the best first impression.
When he finally came to, he was partially surprised to find himself in his own cabin, on his own bed, but he was more surprised by the man who sat next to him. Stede still felt a little dizzy, and his vision was funny, but there the strange man was, reassuring him that the crew was fine and telling him to relax because of his injuries. He introduced himself as Ed, and—well, he seemed so nice, so open with Stede as they began to chat, that he couldn’t help himself from easing off of the bed and revealing his hidden closet the moment Ed seemed to take an interest in his clothes. Stede hadn’t had need of this closet yet besides the extra storage space, so he’d be perfectly alright if Ed wanted to borrow a piece or two for a while.
Then the man came into the adjacent room while the bookshelf was still cracked open calling for Ed, and Stede paused, staring at the door and waiting for it to shift. He hadn’t mentally prepared for meeting Blackbeard yet, and from the sound of his tone, he might not be too happy right now.
“Is that Blackbeard?” Stede said in a low voice, pulling at the edge of one of his thicker robes in case he wanted to hide behind it.
“Hmm?” Ed said, reaching his right hand up to feel the fabrics of Stede’s clothes as the whispered words processed. “Oh, no. I’m Blackbeard.”
Stede’s eyes grew wide and his jaw dropped as the man in the other room continued to call out looking for them, and a playful smile splayed across Ed’s face as he brought up a finger and quietly said “Shh.”
He couldn’t find the ability to make a sound even if he wanted to, however, as two very important facts hit him square in the face, and he almost felt like he had been stabbed again. Firstly, the new pirate he was being friendly with, and who seemed to be friendly with him as well, was Blackbeard, the very person Stede had just been talking about. It was a good thing he hadn’t said anything bad about him to his face. Secondly, and probably more importantly, bringing the most shock value to the moment, the hand that was currently feeling the shoulder of one of his winter jackets had a very visible red string tied around the pinky, and when he followed the string to the ground, it barely touched the floor before rising again to Stede’s own hand.
It wasn’t until the other man left his cabin that Stede could finally talk again, but what was he to say? He felt humbled by the presence of the Blackbeard, not only showing up to rescue him but nursing him back to health and helping him in the process. Honestly, it was nothing like how he imagined meeting his soulmate—something he admittedly did quite frequently. Suddenly he understood why Lucius was so hesitant about his own.
He distracted himself by talking about anything but their soulmate bond—his injuries, his clothing, and somehow they each got a peak into one another’s souls, a moment that even led them to swap clothes. Blackbeard’s first mate, Izzy, seemed less than pleased. Seeing his reaction when they walked out made all the courage Stede had built up dissipate like it was a mere feather caught in a gust of wind.
Later, celebrating their success at escaping from the French, Ed pulled Stede away from the spinning lantern and into his side, shaking him a few times in silent celebration. It sent a jolt through Stede, racing through his bloodstream as his breath hitched and his breathing quickened. He didn’t want to look like that in front of his crew, however, so he shakily held the bottle of alcohol up with a smile as he looked down at everyone else. His smile faltered when he made eye contact with Black Pete, however, his previous words clear as day in his mind: Blackbeard doesn’t have a soulmate.
Of course it would happen to him. His gaze continued down to their string, not even touching the ground now with how close their hands were, and yet, he was positive he was the only one who could see it. It was an unrequited soulmate bond—the person he had left his family behind for would never—perhaps, could never—feel the same way about Stede as he would about him. He had come all this way for nothing, it seemed, and his heart almost hurt worse than his abdomen did when he was stabbed.
Maybe that’s why he drank a little more than normal that night, forgetting sleep is a necessary thing as Ed insisted to continue to be near him, to continue to talk with him, and, really, it was impolite to decline. No gentleman would ever do something like that, even a gentleman pirate. And he wouldn’t refuse the offer to learn how to be a better pirate, either—he knew there were things he had to improve on if he was ever going to be successful, and who better to learn from but the best?
Ed was patient enough with him as he taught Stede the basics of pirating, and obviously Stede couldn’t take the lessons without giving something in return. Learning all the intricacies of being a gentleman was certainly hard, it had taken himself several years to master, but Ed at least caught onto the basics rather quickly. He knew it wasn’t nearly enough to be able to last through the dinner party they stumbled across, but Ed seemed rather insistant, so they went anyway. And when things inevitably did go south, Stede was already prepared to avenge Ed, but only because he hated to see a friend suffer.
And that was the kicker, wasn’t it? He and Ed seemed like the best of friends now, or at least that’s how Stede felt about their relationship. A chance encounter turned into an extended stay aboard, where they spent nearly every waking hour together. Yet, it did nothing to ease the pain in Stede’s chest, his hands itching to find his gloves again and hide the string, an obviously fruitless endeavor for he could still see it on Ed’s hand. It seemed the world was cruel to both of them—Stede, the hopeless romantic, outwitted by fate and given a one-sided bond, and Ed, perhaps the only person in the world who could really, truly, use someone to care about him for who he really was.
It became increasingly difficult for Stede to hold back, to not try and leap into Ed’s arms and ask to be spun around like one of the love interests in his books might. There were several times he nearly let it slip: You wear fine things well was one of the more obvious ones, but Ed’s constant touches (his shoulder, many times, in celebration, his hand, guiding the sword in the way he was supposed to properly hold it, his chest, trying to use it as leverage to help get the sword out) always melted him too. He wanted to be around Ed as much as he could—no, he yearned for it—but he felt the longer they stayed around each other, the harder it was to accept that they were never meant to be.
He considered trying to cut the string once. Izzy had grown impatient over something or another and had dragged Ed away for a bit, and there Stede found himself, sitting at his desk with a pair of scissors, eyes unfocused as he stared at his hand. Cutting it would do them both a favor, it would mean Ed could leave without Stede wanting to follow him around like a lost puppy, but would they really be better for it? Could Stede really sever this bond that had always been so important to him? Could he truly ever let Ed go, even if they did eventually go their separate ways?
That’s where Jim found him—it was unexpected to see them be the one to drop by, especially alone, so he was startled when he heard the door open and dropped the scissors immediately, almost landing on his foot.
They hesitated in the doorway upon seeing Stede’s face. “Sorry, am I… interrupting something?”
“No, no, not at all,” he lied easily, too easily, and tried to hide the scissors with his feet. “Come on in, Jim. What can I help you with?”
A sympathetic look crossed their face as they approached the desk. “You were thinking about cutting your bond, weren’t you?”
“No,” he scoffed, turning away and refusing to meet their gaze. “What a ridiculous notion. Real pirates don’t even have soulmate bonds, don’t you remember what Black Pete said?”
They chuckled. “Yeah, don’t believe a word that man says. I just caught him and Lucius snogging, and you know he would never miss the opportunity to exaggerate how great of a pirate he is.”
“Oh, really?” He briefly thought back to the first conversation he had ever had on the topic with Lucius, and despite himself, a small smile formed. “Well I suppose you never really do know when a person is lying.”
“Except for if that person is you,” they said plainly, gesturing towards him with their hand. “I know that look, Captain. I’ve seen it before.”
“I really don’t know what you’re talking about, though. I was just simply… minding my own business—” he cut himself off when they lifted their hand. Not in a motion to make him stop talking, just as if they were trying to show him something, and the dots finally connected. He knew Jim didn’t have a soul bond, but he hadn’t thought that they might have severed it themselves.
“Save yourself the trouble,” they muttered, plopping down in one of the chairs and throwing their feet over the armrest. “It doesn’t help in the least.”
He clasped his hands together for a moment and fidgeted with his fingers before quietly saying, “Can I—”
“No, I’m not telling you why,” they sighed. “But if you’re asking why it didn’t work, well, the frayed end still likes to point in the direction of that other person. And, well, whenever Oluwande is around—” they cut themselves off suddenly and sat back up straight, a sneer on their face.
Stede raised his hands in hope for mercy, quickly saying, “I didn’t hear anything. What happens in the captain’s cabin stays in the captain’s cabin.”
“Good.” Without another word, they pushed back up off of the seat and left the room, closing the door with a little more force than was necessary.
That explained why the pair seemed to always hang around each other, then. It seemed that, no matter what he did, he would never be free from it. He smiled despite himself at the fact that Lucius had gathered up the courage to talk about it, unlike Stede could. But if Black Pete really was lying most of the time… it didn’t matter anyway, did it? Surely, the ‘Fearless Blackbeard’ would have talked to Stede about it already if he could see it.
Stede made a promise to himself in the cabin before Ed could return, putting away the scissors and watching the string sway with his movement. Before they parted ways, whenever that may be, Stede would let Ed know about it. That way, he didn’t have to sit and stew on it the rest of his life wondering what might have happened. Either way, he was almost positive that time was not close by any means. He surely had a while before he would need to talk about it.
Then, everything began to fall apart. Stede had never heard of Calico Jack before he appeared on The Revenge in the middle of the night, but once he and Ed woke Stede up that fateful morning with the ridiculous canon games they were playing, he felt like the world had shifted into the light—he could see everything in sharper, harsher detail, like everything had finally fallen into place but not in the way he had expected or even wanted. The pair seemed close—inseparable, even—and it was clear what was going on. Stede would forever be tied to Ed, but Ed wasn’t tied to him, he was tied to Jack.
He tried to be as hospitable as he could—the very last thing he wanted to do was upset Ed on purpose—but he really didn’t like the man. He seemed to bring the worst out in Ed, suddenly not caring about the ship, or the crew, or anything, really. But with as nice as Stede was, and with as much of a pushover as he could be, he had to draw the line somewhere. He was the Captain of this ship, afterall, and wouldn’t tolerate anyone upsetting his crew.
He wasn’t expecting Ed to leave with him, though. He hadn’t gotten the chance to talk to him yet before Ed was leaving, and he wasn’t about to say, ‘oh, by the way, we’re soulmates’ in front of the whole crew, much less in front of Jack. He understood why, though—if he was faced with the possibility of Ed getting kicked off of the ship he was on by someone else, he would have followed Ed to the ends of the Earth.
Oluwande tried to help him when he came to the cabin that night, but it was Lucius that really pulled him out of the trance, allowing him to look away from the string trailing along the beach and get back to his crew, trying to find a way to move on without Ed, without fulfilling that promise to himself. Somehow, he had a feeling they would meet again someday, and he resolved that he would tell Ed… eventually.
He wasn’t expecting some day to be later that day.
Stede had panicked when the multiple English ships had appeared, suddenly forgetting everything Ed had taught him. He wanted to be a good pirate, but he also would really rather live after this encounter. Then Ed was climbing back up over the railing, yelling about raising the white flag, and then Ed was back and Stede was a little hazy on the details of what happened between then and when the English started raiding the ship. All he knew was, even though his hands were wrenched rather forcefully behind him, and tied up real tight, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of Ed. And, if he wasn’t mistaken, it seemed Ed couldn’t keep his eyes off of him.
But the damned English were still in the way, pulling them to separate places on the ship, interrogating Stede in his cabin while probably doing the same to Ed somewhere in the hull. And then they wanted to kill Stede, and all he could think while he was blindfolded was that he was about to lose Ed again, and he still hadn’t told him anything, and he really would rather not die thank you very much—and then there was Ed interrupting before the countdown could finish, and his hand was on Stede’s shoulder, and his other gently pulled the blindfold up so that Stede could see him, and God he was standing so close—
And then Ed signed his life away to save Stede’s. It was, perhaps, the nicest thing anyone had ever done for him. But he still didn’t understand why Ed would do such a thing, throw his pirating life behind him, basically everything he had ever done, everything he had ever known, just for Stede. It’s what he thought about while sitting up on his bunk, but when he went to even try to ask, he was distracted by the sudden lack of a beard on Ed. Even the very thing Ed was known for was now gone.
He decided that some air would be the best thing for him, leaving when he had a moment alone and going behind the small barracks to sit by a few rocks overlooking the sea. He wasn’t surprised when Ed found him there and joined him, and Stede really couldn’t help but notice how small the string was from this distance.
“There you are,” he had muttered before sitting down, as if he had been looking for Stede this whole time. As if he couldn’t stand them being apart either. He didn’t say anything else, but as the waves crashed against the shoreline, Stede couldn’t help but let his curiosity win out.
“How are you handling this so well?” he asked quietly.
He shrugged. “I don’t know,” was his response, and Stede believed him completely. Sometimes, there were questions that just didn’t have answers. “I guess it’s… nice. To take a load off, I mean. For once, to just be Edward. I don’t—I don’t think I really want to go back to the old days, never sober, laughing at other people’s misery. I think… I just want to do what makes Ed happy.”
Stede offered him a small smile. “And what makes Ed happy?”
A small, near silent laugh escaped from him as he looked away from Stede, back out to sea. “These past few weeks have been the most fun I’ve had in ages. Years. Maybe ever. And it’s always been full of surprises.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Hmm. Well, I never thought…” he trailed off and moved his hand in a few small motions, making the string swing back and forth. “I never thought this old thing would actually have an end.”
Stede’s eyes grew wide as he watched the movement of the string, head jerking back to look at Ed when he said those fateful words. His chest felt tight, and it was hard to breathe, but he still managed a quiet and strangled, “You can see it?”
Ed furrowed his brow. “What do you mean, ‘you can see it?’ It’s been there my entire god damn life of course I can see it.”
“I thought—well, you never mentioned it, and I heard that sometimes these bonds can be one sided—”
“And you didn’t think to ask? I could have told you that from the moment we met.”
He scoffed. “Well, you could have mentioned it too. Why did you let this go on for so long without saying anything?”
Ed stilled and looked down at the ground, an uncomfortable silence filling the space for a few moments. “I thought you had your reasons for not mentioning it. That maybe my reputation had preceded me, and you were terrified at the thought of being tied to Blackbeard. I thought—well, maybe all Blackbeard’s ever done is fuck up, and he fucked this one up too before we met. Maybe Blackbeard never deserved anything nice, or fancy, or—or to be loved.”
Ever so gently, Stede moved his hand across the ground until it brushed against Ed’s, intertwining their pinkies so the ends of the string brushed against each other. “You know, you never did answer my question. What makes Ed happy?”
He sighed and tried to look away, but he didn’t pull away from Stede, instead slowly looking back up with genuine fear in his eyes, despite the small smile on his face. It was a surprise to see him so vulnerable, so bare to the world, but Stede didn’t react to it, letting Ed say what he needed. “I reckon what makes Ed happy is. You.”
Stede smiled, and before he could do anything else his head was moving forward, and Ed’s moved towards his, and their lips locked together. It was admittedly a little awkward, but it was electrifying, every hair on his arms standing on end, every muscle in his body tensing, as all he could focus on was Ed’s lips on his, and then Ed’s hand on his shoulder, on his neck—
And then Ed pulled away, entirely too fast, and Stede found his eyes had shut without him realizing as he chased Ed again for another kiss. When they did finally pull apart, Stede rested his forehead against Ed’s and let him see the genuine smile across his face. “You make Stede happy,” he muttered, entwining their pinkies together once more.
When the moment wore off, they looked back out over the sea together, and Ed gently rested his head on Stede’s shoulder, their hands refusing to let go of one another. They enjoyed this silent moment together, until Ed was the one to break the silence.
“We need to get out of here.”
Stede nodded. “Couldn’t agree more.”
“What is the crew doing without us?”
“I imagine Izzy put himself in charge.”
“Oh no, Izzy’s going to kill them.”
“Or they’re going to kill Izzy,” Stede suggested, earning a chuckle from Ed.
“Well we oughta get back before either of those happen.”
“Do you already have a plan?”
He laughed as he sat back up. “Of course I do; I’m Blackbeard! I know just what royal officer doesn’t care about the law over what money lands in his pocket. I’ll figure something out, you act natural and pretend nothing is going on.”
Stede couldn’t help but laugh himself as he brushed a strand of Ed’s hair away from his face. “Yeah, sure. They’ll never know something is going on when Ed is missing half the afternoon.”
“Oh, shut up,” he said, leaning in and kissing Stede one last time to keep him quiet before running off toward the barracks. Stede smiled as he watched him leave, but he knew he would be back—as the red string grew longer, gently swaying as Ed marched onward, he knew it would always lead them back together.