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Summary
"Hello, Ed.”
Ed turned and there he was, amidst the clearing smoke and clang of metal ringing out across the open sea. “You,” Ed started. The rest of his words stuck in his throat. There was Stede, standing next to the capstan, where he used to sit and read stories at night, a hesitant smile on his face. His pale linen shirt was open at the collar, tanned collarbone exposed, golden hair longer and tied back at the nape of his neck, a beard thick along his jawline.
“Y- you,” he tried again. “You have a beard.” He knew it was a stupid thing to stay but it seemed to be the only words he could get out.
“I, well, yes,” Stede agreed, soft chuckle escaping his lips. He moved to take a step towards Ed but stopped suddenly at the pistol that was held eye-level with him. “Ah, yes,” Stede exhaled, much calmer than anyone else in his position had any right to be. “Ed,” he stayed where he was and raised his hands, palms open.
“What the fuck are you doing on my ship?” Ed growled.