Chapter Text
“marry”
verb
1) to become the legally accepted husband or wife of someone in an official or religious ceremony
2) to perform the ceremony of marriage as a priest or official
It’s like they’ve thrown him into the sea, bitter and cold. There’s icy water rising in his gut, writhing waves, and Ed and Stede are looking at him so eagerly it makes Izzy sick.
“Married?” Izzy manages. “You want to get … married?”
Stede exchanges a brief smile with Ed. “Well - yes. I was a bit hesitant after my first marriage, of course.”
“And we’ve got our matelotage, obviously, Iz,” Ed chimes in, “but I reckon proper marriage’s a bit more romantic, yeah?”
Izzy curls his fingers into his palms, pressing the fingernails into the skin hard enough to bleed. “Sure, boss.”
“So. Izzy.” Ed grins. “Will you marry us?”
Stede smiles as well, and leans into Ed, and they merge into each other, the sickeningly sweet Stede-Ed person they become when they’re in agreement.
And well - Izzy should have expected this.
“Yeah.” He sighed. “I’ll marry you two.”
“Oh!” Stede exclaims. “Brilliant!” He jumps up from the couch and wraps his arms around Izzy, squeezing tightly. “We’ll plan the most beautiful ceremony!”
Izzy nods, tightly.
Look, it hurts, a little. He had been fucking baffled when Stede kissed him the first time. Pressed him into the mast and intertwined their hands on a starry night months after his unexpected and desperately-needed return.
Then Ed had kissed Izzy as well, two days later as the sun rose on a cold morning watch, and Izzy nearly jumped off the crow’s nest in surprise.
And somehow, through the fucking bizarre force of nature that is Bonnet, they’d all started dating after a lengthy series of excruciatingly humiliating and awkward talks about feelings.
Izzy had gone right along with it, desperate and pining and wanting.
And he’d just, stupidly, fucking assumed he was wanted in equal measure. Six months of dating, six months of cautiously accepting Stede’s flamboyant overtures of affection and Ed’s rough-edged attempts of romance.
But it makes sense.
Ed and Stede were dating before they brought Izzy in. And Ed never hinted at wanting to marry Izzy, not in all the years they’d known each other. They just had the sober and necessary bonds of matelotage.
And Stede wouldn’t want someone like Izzy as a husband. As a … boyfriend, as Izzy’s begrudgingly getting used to saying, sure, or a, fucking bit of rough or whatever.
But not as a husband.
So. Of course Stede and Ed would marry each other, and not Izzy. He might share their bed and touch their skin, but they don’t want Izzy like they want each other. They don’t want to keep Izzy forever.
And that’s - fine. Izzy knows enough about life to be grateful for whatever fucking scraps of affection he can get.
When a captain wants to marry, it’s the first mate who performs the ceremony. Izzy’s a good first mate. He can do this for his captains.
It turns out wedding supplies on a ship, even on a ship captained by Stede Bonnet, are in short supply. Izzy’s not sure where he’s meant to get a boutonnière. Or even what the fuck a boutonnière is.
“Why do we need to send invitations?” Izzy says, weakly. He rubs his temples. Stede’s checklists - courtesy of Lucius - are rapidly blurring out of focus in the low lamp light. They’ve been doing this for two hours now, and the sky outside has fallen dark. “None of the crew can read.”
“I have plenty of friends who can read, though! And surely Ed has endless friends from his pirate days. And it would be very rude to not send a save the date to everyone, at least.”
“Pirates don’t have friends.” Izzy groans. “And you don’t have any friends outside this ship.” He drops his head into his hands, rests on his room’s small wooden desk. Surely it’s against some code to make your first mate do this.
“I have a great deal of friends!” Stede says, ignoring the jibe. “I was very popular when I went home.”
“Literally everyone you knew thinks you’re dead.”
“Not true!” Stede protests. “My ex-wife knows I’m alive!”
Izzy looks up. “... Do you want to invite your ex-wife to your wedding?”
Stede opens his mouth, then closes it and thinks for a moment. “Perhaps not.”
Izzy snorts and draws a thick cross over invitations, and peers blearily at the next item, music. “Frenchie only knows sea shanty shit, but it’ll do. ”
Stede frowns, and shuffles closer in his chair to Izzy. “Wait, what about you? Surely you have some friends to invite to our wedding?
“Nope. Pirates don’t have friends.” Izzy says, and he crosses out music as well. It’s true. Everyone Izzy’s spent any significant amount of time with for the past twenty years has been Ed or whoever Ed is enamoured with that month. “Also, again, you morons are supposed to be in hiding. We can get the florals on an island. We’ll have to stop somewhere near Île-a-Vache.”
It’s nice to have something to do, at least. Izzy’s privately been going a little insane while Ed and Stede have their tea-parties and picnics in amorous bliss. There’s only so many luncheons that Izzy can suffer through.
He glances up at Stede, who’s staring at him intently. “What?” Stede places his hand on Izzy’s knee, and Izzy reflexively jumps a little before settling. He coughs, awkwardly. “Captain?”
It’s nice, the familiar touch, though. Izzy’s going to miss this when Stede and Ed get married. No-one touched him like this, easily and affectionately, before this whole boyfriends thing.
It’s fine. He survived without it before, and he’ll be fine after, as well.
“Izzy, darling,” Stede exclaims, “Don’t you consider us friends? The crew?”
“You and me are … companions. That’s different.”
“Pray, Izzy, what’s another word for companions? Male ones, especially? Boy… mates, is it?”
Izzy glares at him. His mouth twitches with a barely concealed smile.
Stede blinks, faux-innocent, then laughs. “I guess we’re not really boyfriends these days, more like bethr -”
“You two nearly finished?” Ed slams open the door. “Wanna show you something.”
Izzy glances at Stede. “We can finish here, boss.”
“Indeed, darling,” Stede says, standing up and stretching, “I think we’ve quite reached our limit on wedding planning.”
Ed grins and takes Stede’s hand, pulling him out of Izzy’s cabin in a rush. Izzy ignores the sinking, cold feeling in his stomach. Not really boyfriends these days, Stede had said. How quickly it ended and began.
He closes his book and puts away the ink, loud in the silence.
Ed pokes his head around Izzy’s door. “Aren’t you coming, mate?”
Izzy blinks. “Did you want me to?”
“Yeah, ‘course.” Ed says.
It’s a star shower, as it turns out, brilliant streaks of light burning across the sky. The crew is lying in groups around the deck, eyes turned up to the endless darkness above. Ed and Stede lie together, and Izzy stiffly settles a few inches from them. Stede reaches out and presses a kiss to his knuckles, which makes Izzy flush far too much for someone who’s been naked and on his knees to this man more times than he can count.
Izzy sneaks a glance at Ed. His hair is silky and unknotted, his eyes bright, and he’s just wearing one of Stede’s robes, soft red fabric across his skin.
He looks happy. Young, in a way Izzy doesn’t think Ed really got to be before. And just - handsome, really, the way that always makes Izzy yearn too much to bear if he looks too long.
There’s a hint of stubble around his jaw - the inklings of a beard that threatens to return. Izzy shaves it for him usually, after Ed had nicked himself one too many times in the early days.
Stede will do that now. He sighs, and looks up at the sky. The stars twinkle above him, and when Izzy strains his ears he swears he can hear the fates laughing in the breeze.
Izzy lets his eyes blur for a moment, and it is hard to tell where the stars end and the sea begins, and he can no longer tell if he is staring up at the sky or falling down into it.
See, Izzy’s never actually been to a wedding. So he doesn’t know what Stede and Ed expect him to say when he binds them.
Matelotage is common, but it’s never done like this, with the etiquette and flowers and suits. When Calico Jack and Anne Bonny had married, it was just a month-long festival of drugs and alcohol that he’d had to drag Ed away from, and Izzy remembers the weeks of Ed’s rum-soaked depression that came after more than the party itself .
Izzy carefully untangles himself from where Stede and Ed had fallen asleep, and scans the deck. The sun has not quite risen, but he has to act fast, before the entire crew wakes up.
Ed hadn’t even asked Izzy for matelotage. Back after Ed had made captain, he’d woken up to Ed shaking his shoulder, ring in one hand, ink and needle in the other. Ed drew his cross in Izzy’s cheek, Izzy took the ring, and that was that.
In any case, there’s unfortunately only one person on this ship qualified to help with vow-writing.
He spins the ring now, relishing the cool touch of metal, and kicks Sprigg’s resting form.
“Spriggs,” he hisses quietly, “wake up.”
Spriggs groans and rolls away. “I’m sleeping.”
“Get the fuck up.”
“Go ‘way.” Spriggs mumbles.
Izzy kneels next to him and yanks him up by the hair. “It’s for the wedding.”
That makes Lucius open his eyes properly. “What?”
“I need your help.” Izzy grits out. “For the vows.”
“Alright.” Lucius says, after a beat. “Do you wanna… go to your cabin?”
Izzy nods, and they walk quietly below deck. Lucius takes a seat on Izzy’s bunk, and says, “I’m not putting anything dirty into your vows, don’t worry.”
“What? That’s not - that doesn’t even make sense.” Izzy has long given up trying to understand Bonnet’s crew. His crew now, he guesses, with that slightly suffering sense of affection rising up in him. He sighs. “What do you think would be good to put in the vows?”
Lucius shrugs. “What do you want in them?”
If Izzy was getting married, he’d probably say something about eternal allegiance. Loyalty above all else. It’s how he’s lived his whole life.
“Bonnet probably wants something sappy.” Izzy says. “Right? Love and affection?”
“Yeah. Stede’s easy with this stuff.” Lucius says. “But if it was you.”
Izzy frowns, not sure where he’s going with this. He’s not the one getting married, after all.
“Undying loyalty.” Izzy says, eventually, and Lucius nods.
“I’ve got it covered, don’t worry.” Lucius says, and he fucking pats Izzy on the head as he leaves, the absolute twat.
Well. That was spectacularly unhelpful. Izzy is left with a blank page, and no idea what he will say to the two men he is in love with.
The deck is all set up for the ceremony. There’s an honest to god flower arch, which Oluwande is showing off proudly, and roughly arranged crates to form seats. It’s good. If Izzy was getting married, he’d want something more private, but this isn’t about him.
“Captain wants you,” Lucius says, as he goes past, carrying a dangerously tall stack of cake. Roach has been cooking for days.
Izzy dutifully reports to the captains’ cabin, and stares at the racks of clothing and mounds of fabric inside.
“Time to change!” Stede says.
“Change?” Izzy’s not sure he wants to know.
“Clothes! I had new outfits tailored just for this occasion. I was thinking blue, but purple is really Ed’s colour. And I thought green for you, but purple and green is so tacky, isn’t it? So it had to be purple and cream.”
Right. Izzy should have guessed Bonnet would want some frissy fancy shit at his wedding.
Actually - they haven’t docked for months, so -
“How the fuck did you go to a tailor?”
Stede waves dismissively. “There’s always a tailor, Izzy.” He spins around and pulls a suit off one of the racks. “Here’s yours!”
Izzy looks down at his attire.
It’s his nice vest. Without any of the blood on it.
“Do I have to?”
Stede pouts. “Well… I won’t force you…”
Bonnet has the stupidest, sappiest fucking eyes.
Izzy sighs. “Fucking - fine. Just. Just give it to me.” He snatches the coathanger out Bonnet’s hands and stalks into the closet to change.
When he emerges, Stede beams like the sun. “Oh, perfect!” He brushes his hands down Izzy’s vest. “I wasn’t sure if I’d gotten your chest measurements right, but it looks fine.”
“... Bonnet, when did you take my fucking measurements?”
Stede smiles absently. “I’m so excited for this afternoon.” He sighs, dreamily. “Ed’s going to be so gorgeous, don’t you think? I heard Lucius is putting flowers in his hair.”
Ed does have flowers in his hair.
They do look nice. His hair is drifting around his face in the wind, dark strands framing his cheekbones, a complicated set of braids and red hibiscus interwoven on the back of his head. Izzy resists the urge to press him against the mast and kiss him there, wedding be damned.
“I figured we’d stand up here together.” Ed says, gesturing to the deck’s make-shift altar. “I mean we’re kinda already married? With the matelotage. Nice to do it properly though.”
“Right.” Izzy twists the ring at his collar. “D’you need the ring back then, boss?” It’s always been a bit big for him - that’s why he wears it around his neck and all.
It’ll be perfect on Stede’s hand.
“Hm?”
Izzy stares at him. Did he forget? Have marriages changed or something? “For the - for the shit where you put the ring on the finger.”
“We’ve got new rings for that mate,” Ed chuckles, “You know how Stede is. Fancy gold stuff.”
Oh. Izzy’s glad, actually, he didn’t want to give up his ring, but it hurts a little knowing that it wouldn’t be good enough for Stede’s standards.
“Sure, Captain.” He digs into his suit pocket for the paper where he’s written his speech, and squints at the lines. They’re not good, really. He didn’t know what he was expected to say, what would be romantic enough for Stede and inventive enough for Ed.
Ed smiles. “You wrote the vows down? You’re getting forgetful in your old age, Izzy.”
“I’m only ten years older than you, jackass.” Izzy grumbles, and Ed laughs. The ache in Izzy’s chest swells a little.
Is he too old? Is that the problem? He’s always looked aged, lines drawn into his skin by the sea and Ed himself. He shakes the thought out. There’s work to do.
Ed sighs, fondly, and glances up at the sky. “Storm’s brewing quickly.”
Izzy turns his eyes upwards, where dark clouds have suddenly begun to coagulate and writhe. He frowns. They’ve got just under an hour, maybe. Enough time to get the wedding done quickly, then.
His stomach turns a little at the thought of having to man the deck, wet and alone, while Stede and Ed celebrate downstairs.
Suddenly he can’t bear this any longer, and he roughly takes Ed’s hand, pointedly not looking at him. It might be the last time he gets this.
Ed glances at him, concerned, but just squeezes. “It’ll be fine, Iz, just a bit of a squall.”
“Right.” He forces himself to let go of Ed’s hand, and clears his throat.
The crew is gathering on the deck, whispering excitedly. Frenchie is strumming his lute experimentally, humming under his breath.
Lucius comes bounding up to the altar. “Stede’s ready.” He brushes himself off. “Jim’s got the rings, I’ve got the ceremony covered,” and he looks at Izzy meaningfully, “and you lot can just say ‘yes’ and you’ll be right.”
Wait, what?
Ed grins at Lucius. “Thanks, mate.” Jim appears as well, standing a step behind Lucius and rummages through their pockets, pulling out three rings.
Three?
Ed grabs Izzy’s shoulders, positioning him directly across from him, and takes his hands. His calluses catch against Izzy’s, rough and familiar. “Ed,” Izzy begins, “I don’t - ”
Frenchie starts playing, a soft, lilting melody, and a hush falls over the crowd. The words die in Izzy’s throat, and he gulps, dry-mouthed.
Stede walks slowly towards them in a matching purple suit, passing through the flower-covered aisle the crew has made. His hair shimmers a brilliant gold against the grey sky, and Izzy swears he glows like the sun lives in the lining of his skin. The feeling of want that grips Izzy is familiar. The rush of affection and love is almost overwhelming.
Edward catches Izzy’s eye and grins. Gorgeous, he mouths.
Stede reaches them as Frenchie’s music winds down. He beams at Ed and Izzy in turn, and Ed releases one of Izzy's hands to grip Stede’s. Izzy unfurls his grip automatically, letting Stede take it with his free hand, and they form a kind of triangle.
Lucius clears his throat, then begins to read from his book. “We are gathered here today to celebrate the marriage of Stede Bonnet, Edward Teach, and Israel Hands.”
Izzy wonders if he died sometime ago, and this is all some kind of fevered delusion in his last moments.
“Israel Hands,” Lucius says, an unusually serious-edge to his tone, “Do you promise to love and devote yourself to your chosen ones, Stede Bonnet and Edward Teach, to give them your undying loyalty, to bind yourself to them, to share your life with them now and forever?”
The answer is yes, of course, it is please, yes, I do, I always have. I already have.
What he says, instead is, a complicated mess of stuttering and spluttering.
Ed and Stede stare at him, baffled.
“Iz,” Ed says, softly, “You don’t have to do this.”
“If it’s too fast -” Stede begins, but Izzy pulls his hands away, and stumbles back before he can hear anymore.
“Captains,” Izzy says, pleadingly, “Is this some kind of fuckery?” He can feel the crews’ eyes resting on him, stunned and they murmur quietly under their breaths.
“Izzy, it’s alright -” Lucius reaches out for him, but Izzy trips backwards.
A drop of rain falls on Stede’s face, beading and shimmering delicately on his eyelashes.
“You asked me to wed you!” Izzy says, finally finding his words.
“Well, yeah.” Ed says, after a beat.
“No - to, to wed you.”
“What?” Ed says, face draining of colour. “I - I asked you to marry me. Us.”
Izzy frowns. “Right. You two want to get married.”
“To you!” Ed says. “We want to marry you.”
“No…” Izzy takes a stumbling step back. “You wanted - you wanted me to marry you. You two. You to each other.”
“Are they having a stroke?” Lucius whispers, then yelps as Jim elbows him in the side.
“What are you talking about?” Ed says, stepping towards Izzy.
Izzy takes another step back, legs hitting the wooden railing. He’s done his job. His captains wanted to get married. He - he arranged their marriage, just like they asked.
“I don’t - Captains, I don’t know what you want.” It’s starting to rain now, a storm brewing above them and soaking the fine fabrics of their suits and carefully arranged flowers.
“I want to marry you.” Ed says. “And Stede. Who also wants to marry you. And me. What the fuck did you think we’ve been doing for the past month?”
He swallows. Ed is upset and angry, and Izzy is confused and fucking exhausted. He’s buried his feelings, planned this whole fucking wedding to make his captains happy, and now Ed is saying he wanted to marry Izzy?
“He thinks we were asking him to officiate. To marry us, so to speak.” Stede says, quietly, stepping up closer to Ed. Their hands intertwine, and Izzy has to look away, stare at the ground and swallow his jealousy.
“Go to him!” Frenchie shouts through a mouthful of - is that fucking popcorn? Izzy’s going to kill Roach for wasting food supplies again - and the rain is really coming down now, turning the deck slick and wet. A surge hits the ship just as Ed takes another step towards Izzy, and Izzy takes a desperate step backwards -
-he’s falling for a moment, flailing through the air and suddenly it’s dark and cold, salt in his lungs and nose, and he can’t breathe -
… how’d the ship get all the way over there?
Izzy thrashes in the water, waves wildy breaking over him and tossing him through the ocean. His eyes blurs with salt, leaving only violently spinning silver streaks of sky and the dark mass of the sea.
He’s drowning, Izzy realises. He’s dying, black spots filling his vision and his heavy leather boots and soaked fabric dragging him to Davy Jones.
Edward, he thinks.
Then, Stede.
He tried to visualise them together - why did he look away, he can’t fucking remember what their expressions were, he’s never going to fucking see them again -
It’s getting darker, quieter, the rippling surface a thousand worlds above him.