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Of all the ships that sailed the Caribbean, Calico Jack just had to find the Revenge. That alone was nothing short of a surprise, unless Jack had first sailed out to the Queen Anne in search of its Captain. Even if he didn’t, Izzy knew it was only a matter of time. Jack had the unerring ability to track down Ed, the magnetic pole that his dick always pointed him towards.
Had Jack been an hour earlier the man would’ve met the business end of his gun. As it was he had already turned in but the raised voices disrupted his few minutes of slumber. Pulling on his trousers he hurried out of his cabin, not wanting Ed to wake up. He stepped out onto the deck, coming face-to-face with Buttons. The rest of the crew were starting to rouse behind him and Jack – shit – was yelling again. Jack was the only one who called Ed Blackie, and he could already hear footsteps coming from behind him.
Sleep did not come. He wouldn’t let it come, even had Ed and Jack stayed quiet. Ed hauled Jack into the galley, his other arm around Roach as they discussed late night snacks. Some of the crew had joined them as they chatted amongst themselves, finishing off the rest of last night’s dinner. Only two went back to sleep, Button’s returning to his post.
Izzy planned on going back to sleep, but Jack insisted that he, or more accurately, Dizzy had fun with them. It was far from his definition of fun, knowing all the stories that Jack and Ed regaled one another with, sharing with the crew. Most of them Izzy knew firsthand, and when those stories incorporated more than just the one derogatory nickname, Izzy tried to make an escape. Even if it wasn’t to his bed, then to Jack-proof the ship.
Dawn came, the wrinkles around his eyes heavier than normal. Roach may have been calling him the various names that Jack had showered him with, but so far the cook remained in his good books, arming him with one coffee after another.
The extra caffeine and target practice already had him jumpy, but when Bonnet snuck up behind him he all but jolted.
“I thought we were under attack,” Bonnet commented, which had Izzy spinning around, coffee nearly sloshing out of his tin cup.
“I’m sure you would’ve slept through that too.” He grimaced through a yawn, resisting the urge to squeeze his eyes shut, trying to relieve the increasing pressure between his temples, making his eyes all but throb.
Humming slightly, a note of disdain colouring his mostly confused, groggy response, Bonnet glanced towards Ed and Jack, celebrating every impact, wood splintering and sinking into the sea. “Who is that man?”
“Calico Jack.” Izzy nearly spat out his name, but the coffee was still more important. Took another sip, preferring that strong taste than the bitter edge that crept up his throat as he spoke name. “Scourer of all alcohol and all-around scourge. You’d be smart to lock up your stores before Ed brings out your brandy to share.”
The corner of Bonnet’s mouth ticked up, arousing his suspicion before he even spoke. “It sounds like you despise everyone who gets too close to Ed.”
The corner of his mouth twitched down, cheek tightening when the crew cheered for the next successful obliteration of a drawer. “With very good reason.”
“Considering your disposition to me and my crew, I am pretty sure you’re – exaggerating,” Bonnet said, cheerful voice faltering only when he properly looked at the drawers lined up alongside the cannon.
“You’re the exaggeration,” Izzy corrected, barely giving a sideways look to the red dressing-gown and nightclothes Bonnet had yet to dress out of. As much as they were keeping their hissed conversation to themselves, the previous glare he had been directing at Ed and Jack had not gone unnoticed by the rest of the crew, Lucius starting to skirt his way around the carnage and towards them. It had Ed glancing to Lucius until he realised where he was going. He finally stopped throwing out the drawers, and with no more targets Jack had finally turned around.
The only way to get them to stop, deepening Izzy’s scowl before putting all his concentration into finishing his coffee.
“Welcome aboard, I am the Gentlemen Pirate, though you may call me Stede Bonnet,” Stede greeted, stepping forward when Jack took several steps towards him.
“Lovely to meet you ma’am,” Jack said, grinning broadly, nearly missing Stede’s offered hand while he and Ed elbowed one another.
“I didn’t want to wake you up,” Ed began to explain, getting his sniggering under some semblance of control.
“Shacking up with the ol’ gal?” The waggle of Jack’s eyebrows drew another round of laughter out of Ed, but Stede’s eyes widened a fraction.
“That’s a mighty fine ship you docked beside us, Captain,” Izzy announced, using a volume that he normally saved for ordering the crew to do their chores. “Did you give your crew shore leave?”
For a heartbeat Jack’s gaze narrowed towards him, Jack’s grin refusing to falter. “Ah, Jizzy! I didn’t even see you!” A few members of the crew chuckled, two more than whoever snorted at his own line. “No need to be jealous, you’re free to sail on my mast any time, though I won’t spare any of my seamen on you.”
“The only reason I ever sailed with you was because Hornigold was our captain,” Izzy countered, exhaling through his nose, practised disgust for the man opposite him. “I prefer a captain with more common sense than to let you enlist.”
“That’s one thing we have in common, because I prefer your Captain too.” Jack looped his arm around Ed’s shoulder, going in for a kiss to the cheek that was more lick than lips. “And the Gentleman! Two captains! You have a preference for him also?”
From the corner of his eye he could see Bonnet turning his head ever so slightly to him, but he could feel everyone’s gazes shifting towards him. “Can’t say I do.” Cheek twitching, almost settling into the scowl that the thought and topic of Bonnet usually brought on, he managed to twist his lips into a sardonic resemblance of a smile. “I’m sure he feels the same way, since we first met at sword-point. I’ll let him tell you all about that, since you all are getting along so well. I would think breakfast is ready now.”
“Brekkie!” Jack all but cheered, dragging Ed with him to run for the door, nearly knocking Bonnet aside. “I hope you have a full spread because I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning. I am famished!”
The scowl that Bonnet threw over his shoulder to him was as close to a victory as Izzy was going to get. Izzy waggled his fingers in parting before the three men disappeared to Bonnet’s quarters. However it did mean that a good mess remained, the few remaining shelves and the hollowed out armoire toppled onto its back. “Right, now that that’s fucking taken care of. How about we make what’s rest of that rubbish into kindling? Will save us some money the next time we get to port!”
There was some grumbling but taking up axes to the armoire was far from the worst chore that was required, the destruction on a smaller scale than firing the canons but some amount of fun. Nevertheless Izzy took the precaution of trimming the wicks out of the canons to make sure Jack wouldn’t be able to cause more trouble later.
The chore wasn’t quite done when breakfast finished, Jack rushing back out, whip unfurled from his belt. Ed and Jack chanted the very word he feared, which had Izzy doing an about-turn and trying to discretely make a quick exit.
Bonnet stopped him before he could get to the door, squeezing his arm to stop him. “What are whippies?”
He babysat Ed and Jack’s antics for far too many years; he wasn’t at all ashamed to unload that responsibility onto someone else. Flashing a smug look to Bonnet, he shook his head. Izzy leaned in, lowering his voice. “Watch and find out.”
“Awww, Lizzy, you’re no fun! Come back here! We need a target to demonstrate!” Jack protested, but Izzy laughed softly, the breath caught between his and Bonnet’s faces.
“Have fun,” Izzy said before slipping through the ajar door.
Escaping to his cabin felt too much like the coward’s way, and while he was looking to put as much distance between himself and Jack, it would be smarter to be productive. Assuming that Jack wouldn’t hold them up beyond their original schedule, they would be arriving in port in three days time. There was a merchant with whom Bonnet wanted to discuss business. He was rather close-lipped about it, but it wouldn’t hurt to check their stores to see if there were any supplies they were low on that they could pick up.
Deeper inside the ship he didn’t hear the activity above, which was a return to some semblance of normal. And considering no one was around to disturb him, he got through his papers relatively quickly. There were only a handful of items they were running low on that picking them up in three days would be for the best. He brought his papers up to his small room, making a note of showing them to Ed and Bonnet when he got them away from Jack.
It was once he was in his room he realised just how quiet it had become. He didn’t want to ruin his luck but he silently made his way up, pushing the door open slowly to not make any noise. Peering around the edge, taking a tentative peek, he discovered the deck was empty. It wasn’t until he ventured properly out into the open that he found Buttons on the quarterdeck, Karl turning his eyes to him.
Glancing from Karl to Buttons, he refrained from shaking his head. “Where’s the Captain?”
“Everyone left for Blind Man’s Cove,” Buttons said, not looking towards the island but watching the horizon for unwanted visitors. “They were looking for you.”
Crossing his arms, Izzy spared a quick glance to the island. At this distance he needed a spyglass to see anything, but knowing Jack, he knew exactly what was going on. “I have no interest in concussion by coconut.”
“Accidents happen.” Brow furrowing in sympathy, Buttons nodded, keeping his eyes to the clouds. “My great-great grandpa, a sailor just like meself, required stitches after taking a pineapple to the face.”
“On purpose,” Izzy corrected, the memory resounding just like the first coconut Jack lobbed to the back of my head.
Buttons finally turned to him, squinting to focus on him, but also conveying some amount of worry. “I’m starting to think I shouldn’t have let that man on the ship.”
Izzy liked to think that the squawk Karl sounded was an agreement on the matter. “That’s not on you. That’s on Ed.” Normally he would’ve taken the blame for Ed, take responsibility when it was needed, but once Ed was out on deck last night, there was no chance he could stop Jack from coming aboard.
The desire for food was probably the only reason why everyone returned to the ship, everyone but Bonnet chatting and laughing; the way Bonnet was grasping his parasol gave the impression that he was waiting for the opportunity to thrust it through Jack’s head, and the only reason why Izzy stayed, hopeful for once.
Rather Ed and Jack hollered for more drinks. The bottles they brought along were empty, taken into the galley by Roach and Black Pete, but it was only Black Pete who returned, bottles in each hand, quickly liberated. Several more were brought out when dinner was finished, dusk darkening the sky before the moon properly rose.
He tried to grab Ed several times, wanting to talk to him without Jack hanging off of him, but Ed didn’t stay in place long enough, finding reason after reason to scramble back to his friend.
Watching Bonnet try the same thing, with no success either, didn’t make him feel better. After the fourth rebuttal Izzy made his way over, Bonnet not noticing him with his long-distance stare fixed on Jack. “How did it go-“ Izzy didn’t finish his question, startling at the smell that the heat of the day only exacerbated despite nightfall.
“If we corner Ed together, do you think we could talk to him without Jack?” Bonnet asked, keeping his voice low even though in the corner they occupied, no one else ought to hear them.
“We’d have a better chance if we got at least two people to keep Jack distracted,” Izzy said, tipping his head slightly towards Bonnet. “Roach and Frenchie would be our best options.”
It wasn’t one of Bonnet’s normal ten-step plans but it still managed to work, secreting Ed to the poop deck. “What’s this all about?” Ed asked, not as confused as he could’ve sounded despite the drinking he’d been indulging in.
Bonnet’s eyes twitched wider, not quick with an answer, but Izzy had his own question at the ready: “Has Jack said how long he’s staying?”
“You know Jack, he doesn’t normally stick to a schedule,” Ed reminded, a knowing smirk creeping onto his face.
“That’s the thing, we’re supposed to make port in a few days. I have a list of things we need to pick up, and it would help to know if we needed to pick up more food if he plans on staying longer,” Izzy pointed out.
“And perhaps, he’d be trying to find some of his mates – or a new ship, when he arrives at port?” Bonnet added.
“Wait, a ship?” Izzy narrowed his eyes, thankful for the rasp of his voice, his chuckle hidden away from Ed noticing. “What happened to his ship?”
“His crew mutinied,” Bonnet said. His sombre tone did nothing to convince Izzy that he truly felt sorry for Jack. Izzy made a low noise, feigning dismay when in fact he wasn’t at all surprised. “Whether he wants to get his ship back, or get a new one, he would need men to help him out. The sooner he gets to port, he’ll be able to start on his plan sooner.”
“You saw how sad he was this morning,” Ed said, his tone changing ever so slightly, not as affectionate as he had recounted Jack’s weakness. If Izzy had been standing closer to Bonnet, he would’ve carefully nudged a warning to his arm. “He’s recovering from his shock the only way he knows. I’ve seen him at his lowest, we have always helped each other when we’ve been brought down. He’ll be on ship for as long as he needs. He’s not thinking about any ships or a crew right now.”
“My mistake,” Bonnet acknowledged, chagrined under the chastening look Ed gave him. “You know him best. What can we do to help him… help you help him?”
“A few extra bottles of rum would help,” Ed replied, expression loosening with a faint chuckle. “Just being patient with him. Not judging him, or me, like you did on the island.”
“You do have to remind him that this is Bonnet’s ship,” Izzy cut in before Bonnet’s face could fall further. “What happens at port, or anytime off the ship, is one thing, but Bonnet is the Captain of the Revenge.”
“We both are,” Ed reminded, turning his exasperation to Izzy.
“That means you’re both responsible for enforcing the rules of the ship, regardless of your feelings towards Jack.” If he had said as much to Ed on the Queen Anne, he would’ve been a dressing down in front of all the crew, if not a physical punishment. On the Revenge, he could still get a dressing down, but from the corner of his eye he was vaguely aware of Bonnet nodding as well. “A captain enforces the rules.”
“You’re the stickler for rules,” Ed said, huffing under his breath, and though there was a hint of a smile, he was wise enough to Ed’s moods to read the edge of frustration creeping in. “And you’re not the Captain here.”
“Yes boss.” Looking up straight, shoulders back, he refrained from rolling his eyes, and kept his breathing even, not wanting to sigh or look put out. “I shouldn’t have overstepped.”
“Good.” It was a final statement rather than an agreement, eyes sharp on his.
“Busy Lizzy, where are you?!” Izzy had no worry about concealing his annoyance as Jack yelled, his voice easily carrying the length of the ship. “Blackie!”
“Far be it that we keep our guest waiting,” Bonnet reminded, smiling as he started forward to join the rest of the crew, holding a hand out for Ed to go first, content to ignore him once again, eyes only for Ed.
But Izzy couldn’t. He kept a close eye on the crew, despite talking with Buttons in some version of privacy. Buttons wasn’t engaging in the banality of Jack’s innuendos and behaviour, staying by the helm even though they were anchored. He supposed it wasn’t necessary, but it was as close as he got to playing nice for Ed’s sake, especially since Bonnet had already retired for the night. So much for playing towards Ed’s good side, ducking out when Ed was distracted.
Not the kind of behaviour that co-captains should get up to, where it concerned one another. If Izzy had a drink, he would’ve been scoffing into his cup.
The bad thing was it was tempting to do the very same thing, even though he was enjoying the relative peace between himself, Buttons and Karl. He was also aware that Buttons was watching the full moon raise higher into the sky. Remembering his state of undress from last night, it would only be a matter of minutes until Buttons completely bared himself. He had seen enough asses in his life time – fully bare bodies in fact, but this was Buttons and Karl’s thing. They wouldn’t be getting privacy from the crew doing shit knows what down on the deck, but they wouldn’t care what Buttons and Karl got up to.
“Enjoy yourselves,” Izzy said, pushing up from the stairs where he had taken a seat, but coming from the tonal, almost guttural noise Buttons was making, inflecting from one different note to another as he started to take off his shirt, folding it sombre ceremony – well, Izzy’s departure wasn’t noticed, by him or Ed or anyone else.
It wasn’t sneaking, he wasn’t evading anyone, not being called for as he made his way below deck. In his own quarters he got as far as taking off his vest and shirt; he sat on his cot, fingers curled around his boot, half-listening to a rendition of Jack’s favourite shanty, trying to coach Frenchie into playing the melody, not for lack of the man’s musicianship, but for Jack’s drunk teachings.
Free to snort as derisively as he truly felt for Ed’s friend, Izzy pulled his boot off. If he had to intervene for any purposes, he’d be smart to leave the leathers on. He might not be fully comfortable for sleeping, but at least he could run back up on short notice.
He may have listened to a few different shanties before drifting off to sleep, toes wiggling to the tunes that remarkably several of the men could carry. His toes eventually stilled, despite the gentle rocking of the boat, unaware when the shanties stopped.
Stirred vaguely when he registered sound rising above the level of singing, losing melody in favour of loud cheering, followed by at least two things clattering. One would’ve been easy to ignore, but Izzy had an uneasy feeling that had him rubbing his stomach before slipping out of bed. He didn’t bother with his boots, grabbing his sword and baldric, slipping the familiar leather on as he crept out.
It was the chanting that had him hastening his footsteps.
He wanted to be comforted when it petered out, and stopped, waiting to hear anything more to determine his next course of action. Strained to hear more, considering all of Jack’s moods and behaviours to figure out what he might be planning.
The clamour and cries of alarm had him rushing down the hallway, pressing his way to the entrance until a squeal silenced everyone all over again. He crept his way out, eyes fixed on the crowd, who were too busy looking between Jack and Buttons to see him, fingers brushing the pommel of his sword.
Why wasn’t Ed stepping in? It was pretty clear what had happened, despite Jack’s feeble excuse. He stepped in closer, waiting for the signal from Ed to raise his sword.
He waited longer than he liked to admit, at last stepping forward when Bonnet made his appearance, raising his sword tip to Jack’s chest seconds after Bonnet spoke.
“Get off my ship.” It was an order without venom or fury, but not lacking authority. Izzy wished he could’ve heard it from Ed, when it wasn’t directed to himself, but for Bonnet, to Calico Jack who disregarded most everyone he came across, Izzy agreed. “Now.”
Slouching his shoulders in lazy arrogance Jack glanced from the sword to Bonnet, snorting hard enough it was as though it bolstered and straightened him out. Jack swaggered forward, towering over Bonnet. “No. I don’t listen to men who reek of piss, parading around with a fucking parasol instead of a sword.”
Izzy took another step forward, not enough to step ahead of Bonnet, but pushing the tip of his sword against Jack’s shirt. “If a weapon is what you’re looking for, I can demonstrate in his place,” Izzy offered in the face of Jack’s indifference, tipping his head in an almost deferential manner towards Bonnet.
“Remember your place Jizzy, you’re not a captain. Not even a first mate on this ship.” Jack hooked his fingers around his belt, stance smug even as his tone implied that he was quoting someone else, that perhaps a conversation of this nature had occurred earlier. “This isn’t the Queen Anne.”
“I’m willing to make an exception this time,” Bonnet interjected, giving the barest of glances towards Izzy but it was enough of a gesture that Izzy recognized it, stepped forward.
“You killed a member of the crew, unprovoked,” Izzy said, advancing on Jack even as he retreated.
Jack snorted again, rolling his eyes. “For Fuck’s sake, Dizzy, it was just a bird.”
“Karl,” Izzy corrected, stepping close enough that he had to lower his sword. He rolled up the sleeve of his sword-arm to just below his elbow as he continued; “He may be a seagull, but he has less flights of fancy than you. Probably has more merit as a capable seaman, or pirate, than you.”
“You’re just as deluded as this fop.” Jack came to a stop, but glanced over Izzy’s shoulder, to where he knew Bonnet was still watching. Jack smirked, lowering his voice to something dirty and mocking just for Izzy to hear. “But I know you’ve always been happiest to be attached to someone’s leash. Never thought I’d see you attach yourself to someone as useless as he is.”
“I can’t say it was my choice,” Izzy admitted, not lowering his voice quite as much as Jack did. If Frenchie and Wee John heard him, so be it, and for a second they had narrowed their eyes at him, tensing up. “But Ed has chosen to trust him. We are on his ship. We follow his rules.”
“Blackie? Following that Fop? If that man has a golden dick I’ll be eating Karl for breakfast,” Jack said, disbelief and boast ringing loud for everyone around the head to hear.
Jack was renowned for his speed and bite when it came to his words, but when it came to the type of swordplay that wasn’t innuendo-based he was always a step behind. He wasn’t a slouch with a blade but Izzy knew he could best Jack in most duels. Izzy stepped back enough to grant himself the room to raise his sword. Without need to parry a second blade he didn’t need all the finesse, but when it came to Jack he could never hold back.
That ugly vest provided some hindrance to his handywork, but he still managed to hack several cuts into Jack’s shirt, baring a thick trickle of blood that dribbled down over his beer belly for the crew to see. “This isn’t the Queen Anne, but you don’t disrespect the Captain of the ship, especially as a fucking guest,” Izzy stated, angling his sword up, closer to Jack’s throat. He had imagined this many times, not just for the name calling and derogatory comments that haunted him from the Ranger.
Yet he waited, pitching his voice, flicking his eyes quickly to Bonnet, watching him from the corner of his eye. “Captain? What do you want done with this… piss-ant?”
“Please remove him from my ship,” Bonnet requested calmly, though the twitch of his lips showed quiet delight.
A whip was not an adequate defense in a swordfight, and as Izzy darted after Jack as he stumbled away, he dropped his whip, nearly tripping over the thong. He scrambled up, half balancing himself by grabbing the Swede’s knee, but Swede kicked his leg out, and incidentally sent Jack stumbling again, to everyone’s laughter.
Izzy struck out with his blade once he was clear of the crew, slicing Jack’s the back of his hand as he braced himself against the rail. It had to be the drink that left Jack uncoordinated, but he had some wits to himself, digging his bloodied hand into the gunpowder, flinging a fistful into Izzy’s face.
Had he been more aware of everyone else, audible cringes interspersed with moaning and booing, he would’ve been distracted from his task. Izzy was focussed though, not believing any of Jack’s attempts at feinting around the capstan. They righted and lefted a couple of times until Izzy decided to just duck down swiftly, knee down to the deck and sliding forward, dropping his sword in favour of using his full weight to knock an unprepared Jack to the ground.
There was murmured appreciation as Jack stared up from the deck to Izzy’s face. Izzy didn’t hear much of it, only hearing Wee John’s distinct tones. “I guess there are some advantages to being short.”
Being only half-dressed, he didn’t have his knife on him, which would’ve been the persuasion needed to get Jack onto his feet. Without it Jack was acting the deadweight that he personified in more than one way, melting into the deck. “Get up!” Izzy hissed into Jack’s face.
“This is like a mouse trying to move a mountain.” Jack grinned, tucking his arms behind his head, not moving an inch despite Izzy jerking and pulling upwards with fistfuls of his suede vest.
Jack only cooperated when Izzy slid his knee home, as high as it would fit between Jack’s thighs, pinning him down with his own weight while pressing harder with his knee tight to Jack’s balls. “I have my ways,” Izzy countered, only accommodating Jack’s attempts to wiggle away by hauling up, pushing up with both knees. Luckily Roach was all too happy to assist, coming up from behind Jack to get him steady on his feet.
“Are your eyes okay?” Roach asked once they were all standing.
Izzy didn’t realize what Roach was referring to, until he registered the burning in his eyes from the powder. They were watering, and he was sure his face was blackened, the result of the powder sticking from sweat, but he didn’t let go of Jack to wipe himself clean. “They’re fine,” he replied, before glancing over to Bonnet, who had been watching them with some measure of concern before switching his gaze to solely Jack with a cool stare.
“Please escort the man to his ship,” Bonnet instructed, Izzy shifting his grip to Jack’s arm, pulling him along to where his rowboat awaited him.
Roach had stepped aside, nodding to Izzy as he dragged Jack away, but one man couldn’t stop Jack from twisting, walking backwards to the railing. He looked towards Ed, who had been off by himself the whole time, quiet and expression unreadable. “When Ivan and Fang told me that Blackie was on the Revenge, I figured that he had taken the ship for himself,” Jack said, gaze wide-eyed and awed, before sneering, looking over to Bonnet. “Turns out the Revenge decided to take on his second-hand, third-hand dog. Hardly a worthy trade, this senior addled cur.”
“He put you in line,” Bonnet reminded, eyes widening for emphasis.
“Fucking lucky is more like it,” Jack countered, scoffing loudly. “That imp will go after anyone who he thinks he can win favour from.”
“Or maybe he just dislikes you as much as I do,” Bonnet said, tipping his head in consideration.
“Sounds about right,” Izzy agreed, loosening the rope one-handed, not letting go of Jack.
Except Jack had glanced over to Ed as he spoke, and his words had their effect. Dark eyes shifted towards Jack now that the fight had ended, and Jack about to be evicted. “Blackie, you’re going to let them do this?”
Izzy’s attention jerked away from the rope and Jack, to Ed who at that moment frowned, not sparing a glance to Bonnet but glared at him.
“Edw-“ Ed was making his way to where they stood, Jack once more confident. Izzy refused to admit he stuttered, but everything about this situation was wrong. He wanted to grab his attention, and maybe using the affectionate nickname Bonnet used for him would’ve grabbed his attention, but it wasn’t him. And right now, responding to Jack over everyone else, he may have become Blackbeard once again. “Eddie?” Izzy breathed, and for one second Ed’s gaze softened, switching to him.
“Blackie, I saved your life man,” Jack cut in, leaning in to breathe the words into Ed’s ears.
As close as they all stood between each other, Izzy heard it as sharply as freshly drawn blood, finely honed blade cutting to the quick. Ed looked from Izzy to Bonnet, gritting out the last words he wanted to hear. “Yeah, let’s go.”
“Later losers.” Slipping out of his loosened fingers, Jack snorted down to Izzy, pulling the rope from his fingers and letting the rope slide untied to the deck. “Don’t wait up for us.”
He was wet from head down to his chest, after Roach dragged him to the galley. He had been blinking back the frustration from Ed siding with Jack, but Roach had believed it had more to do with the powder than Ed leaving without any further comment, only glaring at Izzy.
His eyes were still irritated after Roach had poured water from a pitcher over his face several times, only for Roach to force him to turn his head, switching the stream of water from his left eye to his right eye. Standing at a hunched angle over a basin was doing no favours to his knee. Dropping and sliding even a short distance on the deck had been an easy move while he was in his twenties, but his knee was no longer as generous as it once been.
Drying his face off with a rag that Roach provided him with he was planning on going back to bed, without his leathers this time, but waiting at his door was Bonnet himself. “What is it now Bonnet?” he groaned, pushing his door open.
“How long have Ed and Jack known each other?” Bonnet waited in the hallway, keeping an eye on him even as he dropped his sword and baldric on his desk.
“Longer than I’ve known Ed… ward,” Izzy said. He still had the rag in his other hand, which he used to dry off his damp chest.
“Jack spoke to me while we were on the island.” Leaning against the jamb, Bonnet looked up at nothing in particular, sighing heavily. “Is… is it true?”
“That depends.” Izzy wanted to shrug, more than that wanted to crawl into bed, but eyed Bonnet warily. “He’s an expert braggart but also proficient in lying.”
“Did he and Ed… have a sexual relationship?” The drooping of his head answered Bonnet’s question, which sent his own chin dipping down. “Were they… committed?”
Getting into bed should’ve involved getting rid of Bonnet, to stop talking and strip off his trousers, but he did neither. “Jack deserves to be committed in an asylum.”
Bonnet sounded faintly amused for a few short seconds, a huff tapering off into the despondent tone they started their conversation with. “Were they… long-term? Together?”
“They weren’t wedded.” Izzy was close to saying ’Like you are’ but held it back, shaking his head. “Ed and Jack, they both got around. They just had more frequent nights together than they did with anyone else. So… I guess that makes them committed.”
“I’m starting to wish they were in an asylum,” Bonnet commented, knocking his head back to the wall.
“Jack does,” Izzy assured him, for reasons he couldn’t quite fathom.
“Can I interest you in a tea?” Bonnet offered, turning his gaze to him at last. “I have a pot steeping in my quarters.”
“Bonnet.” Maybe it would’ve been more convincing had he been untying the laces to his leathers. “I have been awake for over a full fucking day.”
“And you should still be awake if Jack tries to sneak back onboard my ship,” Bonnet said, levelling him with a pointed look that slid into a knowing smile when Izzy’s chin sunk down again.
Barefoot, but having pulled his shirt on, Izzy joined Bonnet in his quarters. On his desk there was a wide bowl-shaped trivet, seemingly nailed down for how it didn’t slide over the surface. A pot was nestled in it, from which Bonnet poured two cups. “How many sugars do you take?”
“Two rums.”
His request wasn’t entirely ignored, Bonnet straightening up, a ponderous look crossing his face as he made his way over to his bookshelf. Izzy watched as he inched his fingers around a set of books on one of the lower shelves, which he tugged open, to reveal a wooden cabinet filled with bottles. “Would whiskey be a reasonable substitute?”
Schooling himself to not show his shock by the time Bonnet turned around, bottle in hand, Izzy nodded. “Works for me.”
He could’ve done with more whiskey than what Bonnet poured in his cup, but knowing that he provided to begin with he had no room to complain. Izzy took his cup when Bonnet held it out to him, but as he prepared to make his way to the settee he realized Bonnet was making his way to his bed, a table that was wide enough for two cups already moved to sit beside it. “Won’t you join me?”
Alcohol and tea provided for, Izzy bit back the urge to decline, sipping his tea and making his way over. “Do you want my company only because Ed is not available?”
“I… I owe you my deepest thanks,” Bonnet said, setting his cup on the saucer he had already placed on the table, settling himself out on the bed as if it was a chaise longue. “I know your loyalty and fondness doesn’t lie with me.”
“You’re the Captain of the Revenge.” He supposed the title was the right one to use, now that Ed had absconded with Jack, no longer the co-captain. He stared at his tea, giving it a gentle swirl to let the alcohol and tea stir together. “I’m not your first mate, know you wouldn’t choose me even if forced to choose at death, but there is a chain of command that should be followed. Jack should’ve left as soon as you said so.”
“You shouldn’t have needed to, had Ed done his part,” Bonnet commented, his gaze drifting to the window.
“You saw them, earlier.” Thoughts drifted to the morning, to how giddily Ed and Jack had been firing the cannons. “They’re like children together, just with more ammunition at their disposal. And a better capacity for the drink. They’re always like this together.”
Bonnet tapped his foot against the bed where he had it stretched out, tucking it in only when Izzy understood the gesture to sit opposite him. “Always?”
“Always, just like how Jack always wanted that stupid moustache of his.” Rolling his eyes Izzy sat, not drawing his feet up, knowing that he had been racing through gunpowder and likely spilled alcohol too.
“I’ve always appreciated a good beard,” Bonnet added, tipping his head to the window pane.
Izzy nodded, taking a longer sip on his tea. “Don’t start thinking one thing in common makes us friends.”
“Oh, far from it.” Bonnet huffed, fetched his tea for a drink of his own, but kept his eyes on him. “Speaking of…. You’ve been friends with Ed for how long?”
“We’ve known each other for… over thirty years.” A younger, more foolish version of himself thought that he and Ed had been more than friends, but time and Jack, not to mention other men and women, disproved that theory. “Long before he started going gray.”
“And not you?” Bonnet asked, eyebrow raised.
“I’m pretty sure I got my first grey hair when I first met Jack.” It was certainly before he turned twenty-five, not that he would mention it to Bonnet.
Bonnet’s laugh did him some good, forgetting his misery for a few seconds, smiling as he took a sip. “Had you ever not disliked Jack?” Bonnet asked.
“He’s decent with a sword, much better with a gun and whip. He always managed pretty well in a raid, and he made sure to have Ed’s back, so for that, he had some merit to him.” There had been many good raids under the watch of Hornigold, most of which had to do with the crew that manned his ship. “The rest of the time… he made it easy to get pissed off by him.”
“I think that feeling goes both ways,” Bonnet commented, smiling around his cup before lowering it. “He does have a colourful assortment of nicknames for you.”
“And the list keeps growing.” The table wasn’t quite in reach of where he sat, unable to set his cup down. Fidgeting, and trying to stretch out his aching knee, he tried to make himself somewhat comfortable. “Now that your crew knows about them, I’m sure I won’t hear the end of them.”
Bonnet shook his head, clear and confident. “You won’t have a problem with them.”
“In what happy world are you living in, Bonnet?” he asked, taking a sip of his tea when he was unable to find a passingly safe spot to rest his tea.
“You did more good tonight than you realise,” Bonnet added, looking him straight in the eye, gaze warm and appreciative. “For Buttons and Karl. And me.”
“Sent Ed packing though,” Izzy muttered, wishing there was a way to drain the whiskey alone.
“That was on Ed, and Jack.” Izzy didn’t bother looking up, but the twitch of his eyelids must’ve suggested his disbelief, a roll of eyes that didn’t follow through. “And considering that we’ve been talking fairly civilly, you should call me Stede.”
He nearly pursed his lips, ready to protest, but on parted lips he breathed out a sigh, fidgeting with the delicate handle. It was one thing to address his captain by his first name, but to make that switch for Bonnet didn’t sit right. Didn’t sit right as he thought of captains, ships and crew members who might disapprove. It was with that thought that he curled his fingers tighter, looking askance to the folds of the certain beside him. “What Jack said - Jack clearly had contact with the Queen Anne. It might be best if I go back to her, to make sure nothing has gone wrong. To see if that is where Jack and Ed are going now.”
“I would rather you stay here.” When he looked back to Stede speaking, he wasn’t prepared for the honest look the other man was giving him. “I don’t trust Jack to not come back. He did say he was looking for a ship after all.”
He hadn’t even thought of that implication, and shuddered despite himself. “As ridiculous as this ship is, it’s in its best hands so long as you remain Captain.”
“Is that a compliment?” Stede asked, smiling faintly.
“As close to one as you’re going to get from me,” Izzy replied, shifting once again, leg twinging.
Stede lowered his cup onto the table. “I don’t recall Jack striking you.”
“He didn’t,” Izzy said, brow furrowing as Stede shuffled a little closer to him. “He threw powder in my face, that was it.”
“I can’t imagine how my knee would feel if I dropped to the deck the way you did,” Stede added, gently adjusting his sleeves, folding them away from his wrists.
“I don’t recommend trying it yourself.” Hands occupied with his tea, Izzy lifted his head in a gesture that he hoped demonstrated his experience, knowledgeable but also a bit haughty. “It takes many years of practise.”
“I might need to start taking lessons from you next,” Stede commented, chuckling under the witty impression Izzy was trying to convey, but not without reaching out for his leg. Unsure what Stede was doing, Izzy didn’t resist the gentle tug to position his calf up onto the bed, propping his foot onto his thigh, first to pull off his boot before starting to massage his knee.
At this point, the table was a necessity for his tea. The only reason Izzy didn’t spill was because his cup was already half empty. “I wouldn’t call that a necessity,” Izzy interjected, stretching awkwardly for the table while trying to ease his leg free but Stede’s grip was proving to be stronger than he expected.
“As long as you stay on the Revenge,” Stede said, careful around his knee cap but massaging down his calf, and testing where any sensitive spots were on his shin. “You should’ve told Roach you injured your knee.”
“It’ll be fine after I get some sleep.” At its worst he would wrap it in the morning, assuming – hoping that Jack really didn’t return to the Revenge, interrupting another attempted sleep.
“Elevating it will help too,” Stede said, fetching the pillow beside him as he spoke but didn’t get further in relocating it, eyes widening. “What’s… wait, they’re rowing to the cove!”
Stede jumped to his feet, resulting in his foot banging upon the floor, jarring his whole leg that Izzy, clutching and hissing, trying to imitate some of the soothing touches that Stede worked over his lower leg. “What-“ Stede was searching through the drawers of his desk, finally finding the one that he had a spyglass in and rushing back.
“Jack and Ed, they’re going to the island!” Stede scrambled onto the bed, barely missing his knee as Izzy curled his leg in protectively.
It was better news than knowing they were going to the Queen Anne. “Suppose they can’t do as much damage there,” Izzy said, shrugging a shoulder.
Stede was busy adjusting the spyglass. “Except to turtles and crabs.”
“They were doing that?” As if they didn’t take enough joy forcing other people into inflicting pain on themselves, or causing the pain themselves personally, they also enjoyed pitting animal against animal. Ed’s lack of concern for animal welfare never sat well with him, but rather than mulling on that he carefully pried the spyglass from Stede’s hand before kneeling by the window. It took him several seconds to find the dinghy, the moon helping to shape the silhouette. “Huh, it’s a rare occasion to see Jack doing all the work.”
“Get off your knee, that’ll only make it worse.” Stede had picked up the pillow, handing it over in exchange for the spyglass.
Izzy held it, glaring to where he had previously sat, his view out to the water obscured by the curtains. “I’m not going to be able to see anything from here.”
“Join me then,” Stede requested, moving closer to the window while patting the space beside him. It still left Izzy further away, but he was at a better angle than previously. “Here, let me....” Taking the pillow from his hands, Stede waited for him to get comfortable before carefully positioning the pillow under his leg. “Is that better?”
“Think so.” Izzy watched Stede pick up the spyglass again, readjusting the lens to relocate the dinghy. “Have they reached the beach?”
“They will soon,” Stede murmured, intently watching their progress. “I’ll give Jack one thing, he definitely has a rower’s build.”
“It’s not that special,” Izzy grumbled, wanting to take his turn in watching, but so long as Stede continued the running commentary, it would satisfy his need to know Ed’s safety. “Is Ed okay?”
“As good as he’s going to be, off the ship,”
“It’s my fault.” Izzy glanced to the two cups on the table; it was luck that he picked up his cup first, scenting the whiskey before taking a sip. “If I hadn’t taken your side, Ed would still be here. He wouldn’t have left with Jack.”
He could feel the shift of Stede’s arm, the slight lowering of the spyglass. “Do you regret that?”
“I…” He hesitated, shoulders slumping. Crossing his arms carefully, mindful not to spill tea on the bed, he twisted his lips together, as though he could untwist his thoughts into something sensical. “I didn’t do it just because I dislike Jack. You’re… a very different Captain from Ed. Blackbeard. I’ve run the Queen Anne under him for many years, and if you had to Captain the Queen Anne, you’d have been mutinied in no time. But… whatever you’re doing on the Revenge, it works. Your structure may not consist of typical ship rules, but you have the right to expect certain behaviour of your crew, and guests. You’re the Captain, you have the last say. Maybe I did overstep-“
Stede spoke softly, a careful interjection. “But I allowed you to.”
“I regret that Ed left with Jack, because Jack acted like a fucking ass.” With a smirk he twisted his head slightly, unprepared that he butted against Stede’s shoulder, but neither of them moved. “But… I don’t regret doing what I did.”
“And here I thought that Ed had awful taste in friends.” Izzy looked up sharply, already ready to snarl his own insult back at Stede, but Stede’s gaze was teasing, warm despite it all. “I really do appreciate what you’ve done, even if it was at Ed’s expense.”
“I guess I can accept that,” Izzy said, the corners of his mouth twitching up, tilting his head towards Stede’s shoulder. “What are those twats up to now?”
“Hmmm?” Stede felt like he was making an effort to move slowly, raising the spyglass. “Ah, they’ve reached the shore. Well, Ed has. Jack is moving with the grace of a beached whale.”
Izzy snorted under his breath. “No surprise there.”
Lucius knocked on the door, waiting to hear permission for entry, but when Stede didn’t answer within several seconds, he pressed his ear to the door. Knocked again before twisting the doorknob. To his surprise the door opened, only to be greeted by a bleary eyed Oluwande resting on the settee. “Where is—”
“Shh, they’re sleeping,” Oluwande said, rubbing his forehead, before setting his elbow on the cushion.
“They?” He hadn’t seen or heard Ed return to the ship, but this was hopeful.
Hope made way to shock as Lucius cast his gaze towards the bed, finding the silver streaks lining the dark head of hair to be different from the one he expected.
A pillow had been kicked off the bed, in amongst footwear lazily discarded. The one pillow in use was under Stede’s head, while Izzy preferred to use Stede’s chest, the top of his head a resting place for Stede’s chin.
“What?” Eyes widening further, from the arm that Izzy curled over Stede’s stomach, and Stede’s foot tucked between Izzy’s, Lucius twisted his head sharply to Oluwande, who laughed soundlessly at his nonplussed look. “When?” Lucius hissed, moving closer to the settee while continuing to glance back to the men who slept on unaware.
“They fell asleep two hours ago? They stayed up watching Ed and Jack,” Oluwande explained, keeping his voice low enough.
“Watching Ed more like it,” Lucius said, rolling his eyes, only to narrow them. “They weren’t at each other’s throats the whole time?”
“I think they would’ve preferred to be at Jack’s throat, if he wasn’t all the way over at the island.” Sighing faintly, Oluwande sat up properly, grasping the back of the settee for comfort rather than leverage. “But no. Stede watched them, had a spyglass the whole time, was telling Izzy what they were doing. Izzy would tell him some of the things Jack got up to in the past. They were laughing.” Oluwande raised his eyebrows when he stressed the absurdity of their behaviour.
“Really.” The longer Lucius stared at them he was sure he could replicate the details into his sketchbook later, because this image was a keeper, and worthy enough to share the visuals with the rest of the crew. “I almost feel bad for waking them up, but… Buttons is inconsolable.”
“Ah, Captain’s duties beckon,” Oluwande stood up, coming around to stand beside Lucius. “You can wake them up, I’m not going to. Izzy doesn’t have his sword on him, but I’m sure he can find another way to inflict pain.”
Lucius blinked indignantly. “Why me?”
“You just said you almost feel bad for waking them up,” Oluwande pointed out.
“Because I don’t want to wake them up!”
“But Buttons is depressed, and Stede would know what to do.”
“But you told me he just went to sleep two hours ago!”
“I’ll make a plan while I have a cup of tea,” Stede mumbled, curling his hand up in an attempt to lift Izzy’s head in order to slip out from under him.
“Make that two,” Izzy added, close to getting up himself, but relaxing back in place when Stede’s fingers combed through his hair.
“Yeah, I’ll get Roach,” Lucius agreed, turning about heel and rushing out of the room.
“Sorry, Captain,” Oluwande said, not sure exactly where to look, if he was looking too deeply into the fact that Izzy was nuzzling against Stede’s chest under his hand.
“A service might be a good idea,” Izzy offered, pulling himself in closer.
“I’m gonna go help Roach – and Lucius,” Oluwande said, closing the door that Lucius left open behind him.
“Good,” Stede murmured, eyes drifting back closed.