Chapter Text
Stede Bonnet has never been shot before, but he thinks it must be similar to this. This feeling of despair and utter hopelessness that stains his heart and quickly spreads throughout the rest of his body. This storm that swirls in his brain, tossing his thoughts on the choppy waves of emotion that spiral throughout his mind.
“I just- I thought that when I did marry… it could be for love,” he tells his father when his tongue remembers how to form words again. The man refuses to look at him, but Stede can still see the contempt in his eyes.
“Peasants marry for love,” he says as if Stede is a child failing to understand the simplest equation. “Mary has acreage.”
Acreage. He supposes that’s all his father sees this as. A way to generate more land and wealth for himself. The added bonus of ridding himself of his son must be an appealing aspect too.
Truth be told, Stede doesn’t know what love is, exactly. He doesn’t think he’s ever experienced it before, not even a type of family love with his father. Perhaps he never will.
Stede sighs as the carriage continues down the rocky path.
* * *
Edward Teach has never been shot before, but he thinks it must be similar to this. This feeling of anger and confusion that tears through his body, cleaving his tether to reality in two. Stede must be joking , Ed thinks, he has to be . But Stede’s despondent eyes say otherwise.
“Her name’s Mary,” he mumbles, tugging at the grass they sit on. Ed furrows his brows at the name.
“ Mary,” Ed repeats sourly as if it were the name of some dreadful disease, “fucking hell, you rich people cycle through the same five or six names, don’t you.”
Stede pushes him light-heartedly, “those are some bold words coming from a man named Edward,” he chaffs.
Ed snorts, “I suppose you’ve got me there.”
Silence befalls the pair as the sun begins to set, painting the horizon in soft shades of orange and pink. It bathes Stede’s honey-blond hair in a magnificent shade of gold, making him look like an elegant, midasian statue. A summer breeze rustles softly through the air around them, whispering tales from long ago. Maybe if Ed listens to it intently enough, it’ll tell him how to get out of this mess.
Ed swallows and shakes his head slowly. He can’t remember a time before their friendship, however odd it may be. The son of one of the richest men in Barbados, and the son of one of the poorest. They’d grown up together on Stede’s family estate, where his mother worked as a maid. Whilst the other boys had ridiculed Stede for his kind nature and gentle spirit, Ed had embraced it. They’d been inseparable, much to the disappointment of Stede’s father, who had expressed his thoughts to Edward, accompanied by a beating strong enough to leave a black eye and several bruised ribs. They’d kept their friendship on the down-low since then, but the old man still glared at him whenever their eyes met.
“We both know this was bound to happen sooner or later,” Stede murmurs, “after all, I am almost 20.”
“Well yeah, but if you get married, what happens to me?” Ed asks urgently.
“Nothing. You continue as normal.”
“But you won’t be here.”
Stede says nothing as the sun continues its slow descent. Ed warily rises to his feet, brushing himself off and turning to Stede with a determined glint in his eye.
“I’ll figure out a way to get you out of this,” he vows.
“Don’t do anything rash,” Stede cautions.
“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Ed grins crookedly, before darting away down the hill.
If the universe wants to cleave them apart, it’s gonna have to put up one hell of a fight.
* * *
Stede’s father is in a sour mood when he returns to the house for supper. He sits at the head of the table with a surly look on his red face, ignoring Stede’s attempts at small talk for the duration of the meal, although his eyes never leave Stede alone.
It’s only when they’ve finished eating and Stede has risen from the table that the man opens his mouth.
“Sit,” he snarls. Stede complies. His father surveys him for a few seconds, with hard eyes and a curled lip.
“When I was your age, do you know what I was doing boy?” He disparages.
“Working,” Stede mumbles, with lowered eyes. His father nods.
“That’s correct,” he says, “I was working day in and day out until my hands were bloody and calloused. Do you know why?”
Stede shakes his head.
“Because that is what a man does. He works. He does not sit around all day reading books and picking flowers like some feeble lady. Do you understand?” The man snaps. Stede nods his head as tears begin to well behind his eyes.
“Just because you are to be wed, does not mean you are a man, Stede Bonnet. Lord knows I’ve tried to mould you into one, but you are nothing if not a cowardly, little rich boy. You are as weak and insipid as they come.”
Stede nods. He’s used to these sorts of words by now, he knows how to take his father’s outbursts.
But Edward Bonnet isn’t finished with him yet.
“You do not deserve to exist,” he rages, “to live and breathe whilst your mother lies cold in the grave you are responsible for putting her in,”
Stede gapes at him, his eyes widened with shock. His father is no stranger to harsh words, but those words are more than just casual cruelty. They are barbaric. They are vicious.
It’s no secret that the old man blames Stede for the death of his wife. He’s never really tried to hide it, but he’s also never outright told Stede. To the people who knew her, Sarah Bonnet was a saint. People have often told Stede of her kind nature and generosity, as well as how much he mirrors her appearance. Stede will have to take their word for it, for there are no paintings of her in the house. His father had them destroyed shortly after she passed, after giving birth to Stede.
Stede agrees with many of the words his father beats him with, but not those ones. Those words have anger surging through his chest.
“I didn’t ask to be born!” he snaps.
“Neither did I and yet here you are, no matter how much I wish you weren’t,” his father shouts.
Stede glowers at the man for a moment, before rising from the table and storming off, trying in vain to staunch the tears that leak from his eyes.
* * *
The next few days drag by relentlessly, tugging Stede along like a prisoner to luncheons with Mary’s family and awkward walks with her through town. To her credit, Mary is not unbearable. Nor is she any more thrilled than he is about their upcoming union, but Stede cannot imagine spending the rest of his days with her. Or anyone, for that matter.
“Okay hear me out,” Ed greets him when Stede is finally able to get away from his father and meet Ed upon their usual hill. His dark hair blows wildly in the raging wind, and a slightly feral gleam in his eyes causes Stede’s stomach to flip nervously.
“If it involves murder I don’t want to hear it,” Stede quips. Ed frowns.
“Well, that narrows it down a bit.”
“No arson either.”
“Well then I’ve got nothing,” Ed huffs.
Stede sighs and sinks to the ground. Ed joins him and the two stare out over the landscape below them. From their place upon the hill, they can see much of the sprawling plains of Barbados, as well as the bustling town, full of people going about their daily business. Beyond all that lies the sea.
Stede has always loved the ocean. When he was younger he used to sneak down to the docks and watch all the ships pull into port. Sometimes, he’d stay there all day, until night fell and it became too dark to stay out. Ed would join him occasionally, and they’d spend the day making up backstories for the sailors they saw alight the ships. Sometimes, they’d make up stories for themselves. Those were always Stede’s favourite days. When the two of them would laugh themselves stupid over some ridiculous detail one of them had come up with.
“What if we just run away?” Ed murmurs after a while, “what if we get up and leave in the middle of the night?” Stede’s quiet for a while before he turns his gaze to Edward.
“Where would we go?” he asks.
“Wherever we want. We’ll leave these miserable lives behind and get new ones,” Ed decides.
“Can a person do that?” Stede ponders with a small smile.
“Of course! And- hey you know what?”
“What?”
“We’ll become pirates!” Ed grins, “like the ones in your books.”
“Pirates?” Stede giggles.
“Yeah. We’ll steal a ship and- and a crew-”
“How do you steal a crew?”
“Uh, I’m still figuring that part out, but when I do, we’ll be out of here!” Ed babbles.
“Will we wear those funny hats like they do in the books?” Stede asks, flopping face-up onto the grass.
“Oh of course!” Ed enthuses, joining him to lie on the grass, “and eyepatches too. We’ll be the greatest pirates who ever lived!”
Stede beams at the sky, content to forget himself for a while as he listens to the rich overtones of Ed’s voice render a fantasy sweeter than honey.