Work Text:
"Ed, may I braid your hair?"
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Stede tugged at his ruffled sleeves nervously, twisting them between his fingers as he gauged Edward’s reaction.
“Hm?” Ed asked, reclining comfortably on one of Stede’s generously cushioned armchairs. In one hand he had a book, specifically a children’s picture book, and in the other he held his pipe. Stede smiled inwardly at the sight of the book, thinking about the work that had been put into teaching Edward how to read properly. Edward Teach wasn’t illiterate- he could read maps and easily point out each major port on them, but he had come to Stede asking about Shakespeare, curious to learn to enjoy the quiet immersive nature of a good book just like his lover did.
“I want to braid your hair. Is that alright with you, love?” Stede crossed his arms over his chest, speaking in a stage whisper. Anyone else in the room wouldn’t have understood him, but Ed was finely tuned to the way Stede ticked. Ed sat down the book, looking up at Stede inquisitively.
“Has it been one of those days, my darling?” Ed asked, watching as Stede flushed and squeezed his eyes shut. He gave a curt nod, his hands holding his elbows. Stede looked quite small like this, even at Ed’s lowered position. His shoulders curled in, as if Stede was trying to shield himself from the sorrows of the world. Stede’s shirt was too large even for his broad frame and his normally perfectly curled hair was mussed- likely from his tendency to run his fingers through it when he was overwhelmed.
“Israel has been quite the handful today. The crew are all restless and I believe it’s in their best interest if we make port as soon as possible- which port would that be? Oh! The Swede has also fallen ill again. Roach believes it to be another bout of scurvy, but I think perhaps…” Stede rambled on, his hands coming down to wring together in front of himself. Ed put out his pipe, listening intently as Stede seemed to dissolve into a puddle of worry.
“Oh, and I forgot to mention th-“ Stede continued before Ed stopped him short with an outstretched hand. He beckoned Stede over to the loveseat, brows furrowing together. Ed looked towards Stede’s hands, finding his once neatly manicured nails bit down to nubs. Ed tilted his head, watching as Stede stepped up to him in a manner unbecoming of a fearsome pirate Captain.
“Have I done it again? Did I start to ramble?” Stede asked, his voice pathetically small. He seemed disappointed in himself, trying to mask his features into a neutral expression and failing miserably. Edward took his hands into his, brushing his thumb back and forth over the back of Stede’s hand.
“Stede. I need you to not lose yourself right now, my love. Come here. Braid my hair. That’ll give you something to busy your hands with while you calm down.” Edward smiled up at him adoringly. Stede gently squeezed his hands, words seeming to lose him. Sometimes, when he was like this, his jaw would lock and it would be painful to even attempt to speak. Stede gave a small smile, showing his appreciation.
He took his place behind the armchair, gathering up Ed’s hair and draping it over the back of the seat. Ed shifted, attempting to find a comfortable position where he could still read and Stede could still braid. Stede considered brushing Ed’s hair with his mothers gifted antique brush, but decided against it. Feeling Ed’s hair against his fingers would help him ground himself. Plus, it would give him the opportunity to scratch at Edward’s scalp himself instead of with flimsy bristles. Stede reached out to Edward’s face to delicately comb back the baby hairs that littered his temples, smiling slightly at the sound of Edward’s pleased humming.
Stede bent down to place a soft kiss onto Ed’s forehead, wordlessly expressing his affection. He slowly began to weave a French plait. He was slow about his work, handling Ed’s hair like it was the finest piece of woven silk.
“You know, love, you can always braid my hair when you need to. I know how it calms you.” Ed spoke quietly while flipping a page of the book. He didn’t expect Stede to answer, and the blond was grateful for the opportunity to let someone else be in control of the conversation for a little. “I don’t mind it. The opposite, really. It helps you feel better and it helps me feel prettier.” Stede could hear the smile in Ed’s voice.
You’re always gorgeous, dearest. How could you not be?
Stede wanted so badly to say otherwise, but Edward shushed him. “Don’t stress yourself now. Don’t talk. It’ll hurt you. I know I’m always easy on the eyes, stylish hair or not!” Ed gestured dramatically with his hands, waving them about sarcastically. The book flapped around in one hand, the other showing off the flashy rings that adorned his calloused fingers. On his left ring finger- the one closest to his heart- sat Stede’s turquoise stone. Edward wore it beautifully. Stede vividly remembered the night he had pulled Ed close to him and slipped the stone onto his finger. How they had promised themselves to each other.
Stede had never seen Edward without the ring on since.
Loving Edward came naturally to Stede. The past wasn’t something Stede pondered on. He’d set his life into two chapters. Before Ed and After. Stede couldn’t imagine living and breathing as he did without Edward, anymore. Edward had mended something broken deep within him, something he’d had no idea needed fixing. Edward had taken Stede by the heartstrings and tuned them carefully, tenderly, until his fingers plucked them expertly to make the most beautiful of symphonies. Edward had nestled his way into every crevice of Stede- and Stede had let him.
“Have you spaced out, my love?” Ed’s voice brought Stede back to the task at hand. Stede had been numbly braiding Ed’s hair, adding more hair as he went. Stede tapped twice gently on Ed’s shoulder with one finger, a signal to mean ‘no’, when either one of them was silent like this. “Hm. Feeling better?” One tap. Yes.
Edward sat the book and his pipe down in his lap. Leftover smoke plumed around them, the earthy smell something Stede had come to love and accept as Ed. Stede finished the braid, carefully fishing a length of ribbon from his pants pocket. He was careful not to hurt Ed as he tied the ribbon into a dainty bow, gently laying the braid over the side of Ed’s shoulder.
“You done?” Edward asked, reaching up to feel the braid. He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Stede fiddled with his hands now that they were unoccupied- something Edward picked up on almost instinctively. Edward reached around to grab ahold of one of Stede’s hands, spinning him around the armchair and into his lap in a whirl of puffy sleeves, flying books, and thudding pipes. Stede cringed at the thought of one of his books being on the dirty cabin floor, but found he couldn’t even begin to care. Stede shuffled into a more comfortable position perched atop Ed’s lap, his legs swinging over the arms of the chair and his face burying into the crook of Edward’s neck.
Edward chuckled in the back of his throat, the sound vibrating against Stede’s cheek. Edward reached up to pet Stede's hair, sifting through the blond strands and providing a warm hand to Stede’s face.
Stede found himself content to stay here, in the comfort and silence of a lover who had pieced together the shards of his broken soul into a multicolor mosaic, forever. Tucked away into the safety of Edward, Stede allowed himself to drift away into the stars.