Archive of Our Own ^beta

"Hey," Ed said, nudging Oluwande with his elbow. He nodded at the mizzenmast that had been damaged during their last raid and was now back in sparkling condition. "Who repaired the mast?"

Oluwande glanced up from where he was twining rope around his forearm and squinted up at the sky and mast. He shrugged.

"Not me. And not Jim," he said.

"Hm," Ed replied, stroking his beard. "Very fast work."

"I guess," said Oluwande, frowning a little at him. "Something wrong with it?"

"Not at all," said Ed, and walked off.

He asked around and no one took credit for the repairs of the mast; or hardly any other repair of the damage that had been taken. Wee John said he'd sewn up a bit of a lower sail, and Black Pete bragged about nailing a rail back together. A few claimed they'd help clear off the damage and did some light repair, but that things were fixed before they got to them. As if by magic.

"It's just always been like that," said Frenchie with a shrug, hands on his lute and sitting on the stairs to the quarterdeck. "It's a good ship, you know?"

"No ship is that good," said Ed.

He spoke to Stede about it that night as they were getting ready for bed. 

"I'm not sure I understand the problem, my sweetness," Stede said, sitting on the bed and peeling his stockings off. Ed watched him avidly before shaking himself. No getting distracted!

"It's not a problem," he said. "It's just... unnatural."

Stede cocked an eyebrow at him, carefully folding his stockings over his arm and setting them next to him on the bed, even though he was just going to put them in the bin for laundering. 

"How does the ship keep getting repaired?" Ed persisted, gesturing out his hands. 

"I thought you said the crew told you they did it?" Stede asked, perplexed.

"They did a little," said Ed, "But nothing on the scale that fixing the Revenge should have taken after the damage we took. And it's not the first time I've noticed that - for fuck's sake, we've never had to stop in a port for repairs!"

"Yes?"

"The other day I found an ember from the fireplace on the rug, still glowing! This place is a dry tinderbox just waiting to catch flame, but nothing happened! And have you noticed we've never been becalmed? And wasn't the unicorn figurehead decapitated at some point? I could fucking swear it was, during that tussle with the Navy, but it looks brand new! And look around -" Ed gestured outwards, "- we've been sailing together a year and the ship looks exactly the same as when I first boarded it!"

"Yes?" Stede said again, clearly bewildered. "My love, I still don't see the problem. I did pay for only the best in construction and material. Surely that's paying dividends now?"

"It's not a problem," Ed said again, frustrated they were talking past each other. He walked over and sat next to Stede on the bed. "But Stede, hun, you trust me, don't you?"

"Of course," he replied instantly, no hesitation and no doubt in his eyes.

"I've been sailing since I was thirteen, and please believe me when I say this isn't normal ."

Stede silently absorbed this, glancing around the room with new eyes.

"What do you think it is?" he asked, looking at Ed. "...Witchcraft?"

"Not sure," he admitted. "Never met a witch, or anything like them during my time at sea. But there's a reason why sailors are so goddamn superstitious. You see things at sea, things you can't explain."

"Do you think it's..." Stede hesitated. "Malevolent? Evil?"

"Can't say," Ed admitted. "Don't know. Doesn't feel like it, though."

"Surely Buttons would have said something if it was," Stede said. No one quite knew exactly what Buttons' deal was, but they all agreed it was otherworldly.

"Seems likely," Ed agreed. Now that he'd gotten Stede to listen to him, he found himself getting distracted by the sight of his husband's bare legs. Stede had taken off everything but his flowy white shirt, which covered only the very tops of his delicious thighs.

He realized Stede was talking. "...and we could ask around, what do you think?"

"Uh, yeah, sure," he said, jerking his gaze up to Stede's eyes. "Yep."

Stede gave him a twinkling-eyes, pursed-lips smile, his cheeks dimpling.

"Were you even listening?" he asked, looking immensely pleased with himself. Ed would never, to his dying day, get enough of Stede feeling confident in Ed's attraction to him. He bloomed under the attention until he practically glowed with delight and self-assurance.

"Maybe got a little bit distracted," he admitted, reaching out to skate his fingers over the tops of Stede's shapely thighs, brushing the hem of his shirt. Ed had already changed completely into his nightshirt, having fewer clothing items to remove than Stede.  

"A little bit, hm?" Stede hummed, turning toward him and reaching out to wind his arms around Ed's neck. 

"Little bit," Ed agreed, voice low. He wrapped his arms around Stede's waist and tugged him over until he was straddling Ed's lap. Stede ducked his head and their lips met in a molten kiss. 

"Nevermind, I'll tell you later," Stede said breathlessly when they parted, combing his fingers through Ed's hair and scratching his skull the way he knew sent tingles down Ed's spine. 

Ed replied with another kiss, slipping his hands under Stede's shirt to cup his ass, and soon the conversation was the furthest thing on both their minds.

It ended up fading from Ed's mind for a few days, with life on the ship keeping to its usual pace and delightful kookiness. 

It wasn't until a bout of bad weather that his unease returned. They weathered the storm in a way that again his years at sea recognized as unusual. Izzy didn't even get sick, and when he asked him, told Ed he hadn't felt the least bit uncomfortable during it. The ship also emerged, glistening, and completely unharmed. 

"I asked Buttons to set us on course for the Republic of Pirates," Stede said when Ed brought it up. Ed had noticed the difference in course but had assumed it was to cut off busier merchant lines, something he and Stede had previously discussed. "We'll be there in a day or two. I thought we could ask around; see what the old timers say, you know?" He hesitated and leaned closer to Ed. They were on the quarterdeck, overlooking the busy activity of the crew arguing amongst themselves about something. "Do you think we should tell them what we're doing? I don't want to worry them, but... we share things on this ship. I don't like keeping secrets from them."

Ed considered, watching as Roach, cursing, ripped his apron off and tackled Black Pete. The two started wrestling.

"Let's wait until we have a better idea of what's going on," he finally said. "Right now we have nothing but my gut telling us something's up."

Good wind hastened their journey and they reached the Republic of Pirates in a few days. They docked in the late afternoon. Ed left Izzy in charge and slipped away with Stede. They spent the rest of the day hopping from pub to pub, bar to bar, finding the oldest sailor in the room to buy a drink and ply with questions about good fortune on ships.

They were told, almost unanimously, that nothing brought good luck on a ship; things only brought bad luck. If there was such a thing as good luck charms that worked, wouldn't every sailor have them?

Only one white-haired old man paused in his drinking and looked in the distance thoughtfully.

"Sounds familiar," he said. "Something I heard as a boy... Something in the sea that brings favor and fortune to sailors.... Haven't thought about it in years." He finished his mug, forehead knit in thought, but finally shook his head. "Whatever story it was, it was so long ago as to fall from common discourse. Can't remember the details."

Despite this disheartening admission, Stede refused to let his spirits sink.

"We'll try again tomorrow," he said as they walked to the Revenge. "I think it's been long enough for Spanish Jackie to reconsider her banishment of me from her establishment; but if not, I can wait outside while you ask around. Maybe catch a few people on their way in or out to question."

They ended up with a slow start the next morning, with Izzy holding Ed up to complain at length about something or another. He finally got free and waited for Stede at the end of the gangplank, looking around in distaste at the pirates walking through the dockyard. After spending so long with Stede and his crew, his taste in companionship among pirates had changed. He wagered that none of them enjoyed afternoon tea parties.

Stede appeared, Buttons trailing behind him. 

"I thought our resident mystical expert might be of help in this endeavor," he explained as they came up to Ed. "I debriefed him on the situation and while he doesn't have any insight, he does have a contact to try."

"I thought ye knew there was magic floating about the Revenge already, Cap'n," Buttons said, head back and his disquieting eyes peering at Ed. "I would have said something earlier if I knew ye were puzzled."

"Magic?" Ed asked as they started walking.

"Aye, but a kind I'm not familiar with," Buttons said. Then, "This way, Cap'ns," when they started in the direction of Spanish Jackie's. He ducked down a slimy, dark alleyway. Ed and Stede exchanged a look and followed, Stede's mouth pursing in disgust at the filthy ground.

"Ah, there's not another road we could take, is there, Buttons?" he asked, tiptoeing delicately through the puddles of slime. "Oh, my nice shoes!"

"'Fraid not, Cap'n," Buttons replied, splashing forward unconcernedly. "Molly has only one entrance to her lair, and only a few know of it."

"My shoes," Stede said forlornly, but continued down the path Buttons took. "Ew ew ew ew ew."

They wound around a corner, down another alleyway, just as filthy, and suddenly were in front of a narrow door. Buttons sniffed and tongued the air, nodded to himself, and knocked a strange pattern on the door. As soon as he was done, it swung open, though no one was on the other side. It opened to darkness; Ed couldn't make out anything besides black.

Buttons ducked inside. 

"How exciting!" Stede murmured, beamed at Ed, then bounded after Buttons, the sad state of his shoes forgotten in the face of adventure. Ed moved quickly after him, not wanting to lose sight of him in the darkness. 

The door swung shut behind him and the rasp of a match being lit filled the air. In the small glow of the flame, Ed saw a relatively young woman with hair tied back and a handkerchief tied around her neck. She lit a candle on the wall, and soon candles around the room flared into life as well.

"Welcome," she said simply, and took seat behind a desk against the back wall. 

Now that the candles were lit, Ed could see a few wooden chairs lining a room. A large rug covered the carpet, but besides that and the desk, the room was bare. 

The woman - Molly? - folded her hands on the table in front of her. "Take a seat."

It didn't sound like a request, so Ed sat down on the nearest chair. Stede looked around and said, "Ah!" when he spotted one with a cushion. He went to it and dragged it over next to Ed's before seating himself with the usual flaring of his coattails and crossing his leg over his knee. Ed loved him so fucking much.

"We come seeking wisdom, Molly," Buttons said. He was still standing and didn't seem inclined to sit. "Our vessel is begotten by magic of an unknown kind."

"Tell me," said Molly.

Ed and Stede went into the spiel they'd perfected over the last day. Magical repairs, resistance to damage, uncommonly good health for pirates (assuming healthy eating habits, of course), fortunate winds, always on course, quickness of journeys.

She listened intently at first. Then halfway through she began drawing on the desk in front of her with her finger. Ed couldn't make out what she was sketching. 

When they'd finished talking she closed her eyes and began chanting under her breath, some language Ed didn't know. When she opened her eyes again he jumped; they were pure white. She looked at Buttons, then at Ed, then at Stede, then stayed looking at him. She smiled, a close-lipped, private thing.

"I thought they were all gone," she said. Her voice raised the hairs on Ed's arms; it reverberated slightly. "It's been hundreds of years since a saelocke sailed on water."

"...Pardon?" Stede said.

"Oh, aye, that explains it," said Buttons, nodding sagely.

"What the fuck?" asked Ed. "What explains fucking what?"

"Saelockes," said Molly, eyes still glowing a pale milky shine and staring unnervingly at Stede, "were mythical beings of the sea's rich bounty and protectors of sailors and fishermen, coming to the aid of those in distress. Individually, they represented various facets of the sea from the salty brine, to the sea foam, sand, rocks, waves and currents, as well as the various skills possessed by seamen."

"Oh?" Stede said politely. He caught Ed's eye and shrugged as if to say, "This tells me nothing."

"Ye said it yerselves, Cap'ns," Buttons said. "The good fortune bestowed upon the Revenge ain't natural. It's been coming from him." He nodded to Stede. 

"Say again?" Stede asked, looking comically startled. 

"You're a saelocke," said Buttons, offensively slowly and loudly. 

"Oh, nonsense!" Stede said, looking to Ed for help. "Surely I'd know something like that about myself, wouldn't I?"

He looked so unsettled that Ed reached out and grabbed his hand, giving it a supportive squeeze.

"Most likely the last saelocke," said Molly, and the sorrow in her strangely reverberating voice caused goosebumps to run along Ed's arms. "The last of his kind."

"Oh.... I just can't... that's...." said Stede weakly. "That's not possible."

"Saelockes used to number as many as a hundred," said Molly. "They rode the waves of the ocean, swam with the sea creatures, and lived in the embrace of the deep blue. They themselves were creatures of the sea, keeping domain over the water. Sailors counted themselves blessed to see a saelocke, knowing they harkened friendliness and helpfulness. Where a ship spotted a saelocke swimming, good fortune was guaranteed. Time went on, and gradually the saelockes grew rare. Their descendants escaped the sea and a terrible threat and moved on to the land. But soon their numbers dwindled. Some believe it was because kings and queens tried to pull them into human wars, to give their side an advantage. Others think humans became demanding of them, losing the respect worthy of beings made of magic. Others say it was because they were hunted to extinction. Regardless, a saelocke hasn't been seen in over a hundred years. Until now."

Ed stared at Stede, taking in his beloved and familiar face, trying to picture him as a mythical sea being. 

He was still very much Ed's Stede, with his lined face and dimples, but Ed could admit that from the very beginning there had been something beguilingly different about him. It's what had ensnared his attention in the first place, after all. And the way he glided through life, always attracting trouble but somehow slipping away from it was uncanny. And sometimes when he was standing on the deck in the setting sun, burnished golden and timeless, it took Ed's breath away. He'd always thought it was his love-struckness at play, but perhaps it was something more.

"Well, how 'bout that," he said, squeezing Stede's hand and giving him a soft smile.

"You can't seriously believe this, Ed," Stede protested. He was pale in the candlelight. It was rather a lot to take in, Ed supposed.

"Do you know what one he is?" he asked Molly and Buttons. "You said they were different things - facets, was it? Which facet is he?"

Molly finally turned her white gaze from Stede to look at Buttons, who gave Stede an appraising stare.

"Hard to say," he said.

"You can't see?" Ed asked Molly.

"Well, it's not like it would be tattooed on his forehead, now, is it?" she said crankily. "It would reveal itself in the tells."

"The tells?" Stede asked.

"Yes," she said.

"...I see," he said. "Care to elaborate?"

"No," she said. She and Buttons exchanged looks that said "Can you believe these idiots?"

She closed her eyes, murmured a few words, and a gust of air blew through the room, extinguishing a few candles and causing the others to flicker and jump. When she reopened her eyes, they were back to normal.

"And the payment?" she asked Buttons.

"Aye," he said. He nodded at Stede and Ed. "Ye both can run along, now. Lots to ponder."

"Well, you're not wrong," Stede said, reaching for his pocket. "How much?"

Molly and Buttons exchanged the look again. It was even worse with her eyes normal; you could really see the eyeroll.

"He'll take care of it," she said, nodding at Buttons.

"Best not to question it, mate," Ed said, tugging him up. "Come on. I think you need a drink."

He led a disoriented Stede out into the sun and through the town to the first tavern he saw. He ordered them both a mug of ale and two shots of tequila. 

Stede downed his first shot without blinking an eye, though he did wince and stick out his tongue afterward in mild distaste.

"I just can't believe it's true," he said, the first time he'd spoken since they'd left Molly's. "I mean... I don't feel like a... a... saelocke . Oh, it feels so ridiculous to say!"

Ed tossed back his second shot and chased it with a glug of ale. He wiped the back of his hand over his lips. He shrugged.

"I dunno. You've always been a little different. In a good way," he added hastily when Stede shot him a dirty look. "It's one of the many things I love about you." 

Stede's face softened. He leaned over and kissed Ed gently. 

"You're really okay with this?" he asked when he pulled back, staring at Ed searchingly. 

"Fuck yeah," he said. "I mean, like the guys have been saying, most sailors encounter nothing but bad luck at sea. Having a good luck charm in my fucking hands? Fucking ace."

Stede huffed a little laugh, finally starting to brighten a bit back up to his normal wattage.

"I suppose I never really did feel right on land," he said, tipping his mug of ale towards himself and looking at the contents pensively. "I would spend all the time I possibly could by the sea. But I always just thought it was... not fitting in with my family or social circle that made me feel that way. But I suppose that's part of it, too, all mixed up together... Isn't it?" 

Ed shrugged again and took another drink. "Fuck if I know. All I know is that you're fucking amazing."

"Flatterer," Stede said, smiling and bumping his shoulder against Ed's. His natural emotional buoyancy was lifting his spirits again. "I'll have to do some research.... Oh, I wish the Republic of Pirates had a halfway decent bookshop! Or a library - I'd damn well kill for a library right now!"

"That's the spirit," said Ed, slinging an arm around his neck and kissing his cheek. "We'll figure out everything there is to know about fucking saelockes!"

They made a stop by the sad excuse of a bookshop the Republic of Pirates had. To both of their surprise, Stede was able to find an old book of mythology, which he purchased after a brief perusal. 

"Not much," he admitted to Ed as they walked back to the ship, "but a little is better than nothing."

Ed had his arm around Stede's shoulders and was feeling loose and floaty from their afternoon drinks. But his years of hard-earned instincts kicked in as they made their way back to the dock, telling him they were being watched. He stealthily looked around while Stede prattled happily about the best bookstores and libraries he'd ever visited, cheerfully clueless. To Ed's unease, they were being observed by a number of people, heads turning as they passed and whispers following their trail.

"Fuck," he muttered. They shouldn't have been going around, asking everyone and their uncle about where their good fortune could be coming from. Then babbling at the tavern. He was furious at himself. What the fuck had he been thinking?

Though to be fair, he hadn't in his wildest dreams imagined Stede would be their magical boon.

"What was that, my sweet?" Stede asked. 

"Don't tip your hand that we're onto them, but I think we're attracting rather a bit of unsavory attention," Ed muttered to him. To his credit, Stede didn't immediately whip his head around. Instead, he dropped his book, made a loud, "Oh dear!" cry, and bent down to retrieve it, sneaking a look around as he did. He popped up with it back under his arm and gave Ed a grim look.

"We should be able to make sail immediately upon our return," he said quietly to Ed. "Provided no one decided to make a trip ashore...."

They both picked up their pace, and that was Ed's second grave mistake of the day, because as soon as they made it clear they were haring away, the pirates watching them grew bold.

A few hulking, deadly-looking men blocked their path, bringing them to a halt. 

"We've heard something interesting, Teach," said a pirate Ed casually knew, Phelps Loom.

"That's Blackbeard to the likes of you, Phelps," he growled. He kept light on the balls of his feet, his hand coming up to rest deliberately on the hilt of his knife. More pirates gathered around, until a loose circle formed around them. The back of Ed's neck prickled with an enemy at his back. It took nearly everything in Ed not to reach out and grab onto Stede, but he didn't dare tip more of his hand. He kept his eyes on Loom's, staring him down. "You'll do well not to forget just who you're talking to."

Loom met his eyes boldly for a second, then quailed and dropped them. At least Ed's reputation still had an impact on this crowd. 

"We've heard you've lucked your way into possession of a saelocke, Blackbeard," said the man next to Loom, a pirate Ed didn't recognize. "And we don't think that's very fair."

"Well, you heard wrong," Ed said evenly, ignoring Stede shifting closer to his side, shrinking back from the slowly tightening circle of pirates. "Seriously, you guys believe that shit? How fucking gullible are you?"

"It makes sense," said Loom, now looking at Stede in a hungering way Ed instantly hated. "That ship you're on ain't seen any damage. That ain't natural."

"It's new and well-made," said Ed, shrugging carelessly. "Fucking expensive equipment and whatnot."

"You've won every single raid and fight you've been in since you took up with him," continued the man next to Sam.

"Um, I'm fucking Blackbeard ," Ed said. "I never lose."

"And why else would you be hanging around him?" asked Loom. "None of us could make heads or tails of that: Blackbeard shacking up with a fancy ponce?"

"We all thought he must be a good fuck, but maybe you're rubbing him off in another way, huh?" said the man next to Loom, leering. Stede was pressed to Ed's side now, as a pirate next to him reached out and ran a grubby hand down his arm. 

"Ed, duck!" Stede said suddenly. Without hesitation, Ed dropped his head. Stede yanked Ed's bola off his belt - he'd been stealthily losing it while they'd been talking - whipped it around his head, then flung it forward with a beautiful whoop-whoop-whoop through the air. It cracked into Phelps and his companion, making them cry out and blood spurt from Loom's broken nose. The rest of the crowd was startled by the sudden motion, giving Stede time to grab Ed's arm and drag him forward, shoving past the unsettled pirates ahead of them and pounding down the street toward the Revenge. 

They didn't have much of a head start, but luckily they had been close enough to the dock it was enough to get them racing up the gangplank and safely on the ship. 

"We're under attack!" Ed bellowed as he and Stede grabbed the gangplank and started hauling it in, hand over hand. "Izzy! Get ready to fire at will!"

"What the fuck?" Izzy demanded, but didn't hesitate in his response, grabbing Fang and shoving him toward a cannon with one hand and unholstering his pistol with the other. He took post next to Ed, loaded rapidly, and aimed out at the group of pirates advancing on the dockyard. Ed also prepared his pistol. He located and fired at Loom - that fucking fucker - then began to re-load.

"Is everyone on board? Did Buttons make it back?" Stede asked, panting and looking around frantically. "Are we safe to depart?"

"We're all here, Captain," said Ivan. Ed spared a moment to be grateful to his old crew; Stede's crew were wonderful in their own ways, but still not used to the heat of battle the way Ed's were. The original crew of the Revenge stood around, gawping at the action and a few ticks behind the uptake. 

"Get us out of here, Olu!" Stede called.

"You got it, captain," said Oluwande at the helm. 

Stede started next to Ed as he and Izzy fired their guns at the same time, two loud retorts cracking through the air. 

"All right!" cheered Roach, hopping up next to them with a musket and a maniacal glee in his eyes. Wee John and Black Pete rushed up as well, also armed, and they held back the crowd while the rest of the crew hoisted the anchor, unfurled the sails, and got them underway. Jim appeared to sling deadly knifes to a pair of pirates who jumped into the harbor and started swimming toward the Revenge. Fang got off a few cannon shots, disabling a ship that several pirates were boarding to give chase.

But Ed didn't breathe easily until the Republic of Pirates was long gone from sight and he couldn't spot any ships with his telescope. 

"Okay," said Black Pete as Ed finally holstered his gun and turned from the railing to find the whole crew assembled behind him, staring at him expectantly. "So what was that all about?"

Stede, who was seated on the deck at Ed's side, his shoulder and arm leaning tightly against Ed's thigh and leg, finally looked up from his thousand-yard stare at the wooden planks. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. Ed sat down next to him and tugged a hand from his face, enfolding it in both of his. He waited patiently while Stede peeked out from between the fingers of his other hand.

Stede cleared his throat. "Are any of you familiar with the concept of... saelockes?"

And from there it was mild chaos as Frenchie, Black Pete, and Wee John all argued over what the correct mythology was for saelockes (Flying and breathing fire? Really, Black Pete?) and they only subsided when Buttons weighed in to rule out the more ridiculous claims (for example, that saelockes were direct descendants of unicorns, which he seemed downright offended by). 

On the whole, the crew took the news of Stede's magical ancestry really well. Izzy stormed away mid-way through to go stand next to Ivan at the helm and glower at nothing, jaw clenched tight.

"I mean, it just makes sense, doesn't it?" said Frenchie, shrugging. The others nodded in agreement, giving Stede a few assessing glances, but on the whole, looking at him much the same as they had before.

"Thank you all for your understanding," Stede said, breathing out a huge, wavery sigh. His hand, which had been tight through the explanation and discussion, relaxed in Ed's. "I know it must be a grievous shock to the system, learning this about me."

"Eh," said Roach, making a scrunched-up face. "To be honest, I'm still more surprised that Blackbeard decided to marry you ."

A few others nodded and Black Pete burst out, "I know , right?" Stede's careworn look immediately turned bitchy.

"All right, yes, thank you," he sniped, struggling to his feet. Ed got up as well, hiding a grin in his beard. Bitchy Stede was one of his favorite things; plus it reassured him that he was not emotionally keel-hauled over the day's revelation and events. "Enough discussion for today, I think. Roach, be a dear and make my favorites for dinner, would you? I'm in the mood for some comfort food."

"Sure, Captain," said Roach, sketching a salute and heading off to the galley, whistling to himself.

"And the rest of you," Stede continued. "Surely you all have work to do, hm?"

He made shooing motions and the group slowly got up from where they'd gathered around like it had been storytime and leisurely dispersed.

"I imagine you must have things to get to as well, don't you, my love?" Stede asked, turning to Ed and squeezing his hand. Ed eyed him, trying to determine if this was a subtle way of telling him to fuck off. He knew he tended to be clingy, especially with Stede, and he was still trying to pick up on all the upper-class social cues Stede used. Stede might be trying to say he wanted some alone time to process the day. 

"Yeah, sure," he said, trying to sound like he couldn't care less, shrugging and tossing his hair over his shoulder. "Yeah, I'll go and do my shit, and... see you at dinner, I guess?"

Stede nodded and leaned in to kiss him. 

"I'll see you at dinner," he agreed. He squeezed Ed's hand one last time, then dropped it to turn and leave. 

Ed moped around, generally getting underfoot and half-heartedly working until dinnertime. He and Stede generally took breakfast alone in their room together, but always had dinner with the crew. "Prime bonding time," Stede called it. Ed did admit it brought a feeling of companionship and camaraderie that he'd never had before as captain, having always eaten dinner by himself or with Izzy.

He took a seat at their long dinner table, watching as the crew slowly filtered in and sat, chatting easily together. He started getting anxious when Roach started bringing out the food and Stede didn't appear. He was just about to get up to look for him when he bounded in, dressed in silver breeches, white shirt, and yellow banyan, beaming sunnily at them. 

"Evening all!" he sang, pulling out the chair next to Ed. Before he sat, though, he impulsively leaned down and hugged Ed around the neck, kissing his cheek three times in quick succession.

"What's that for?" Ed laughed, reaching up to loosely clasp one of Stede's wrists. He grinned up at him soppily. 

"Oh, nothing really. Just thinking how absolutely wonderful and perfect you are," Stede said, smiling back at him. He leaned in and kissed Ed warmly and lengthily, only pulling back when the crew started groaning and throwing bread rolls at them. 

"Yes, yes, all right," he said good-naturedly, taking his seat. He began gathering up the bread rolls and placing them back in their basket. "So! Frenchie, last night you left off telling us how you once played for Jacques-Bénigne Bossuet himself!"

"Yeah," said Jim, passing a bowl of stew to Oluwande on their left. "Was it really hard to not stab him?"

"Well, he did die shortly afterward," said Frenchie, piling some rice on his plate. "I wouldn't attribute it to my playing, though."

The meal passed in a haze of warmth, good humor, and friendship. Stede played footsie with Ed the entire time. 

As they retired to their cabin that evening, Stede leading him in with a heated look in his eyes, Ed smugly decided that the day finished quite brilliantly, actually.

The next week passed as normal; they raided a Dutch merchant ship with no casualties and obtained a hefty load sugar cargo, but that was the only real undertaking. The rest of the time was casual and light-hearted. 

Until Izzy stopped Ed on his way to the quarterdeck to report a fleet of ships rapidly heading their way. 

"Fuck," Ed said succinctly, taking in the black sails of the half dozen ships he could see through the telescope.

"My guess is they're after fucking Bonnet, boss," Izzy said. "That fucker has landed us in the middle of a pirate war. They'll be on us in no time."

Ed hit the telescope on his palm in thought.

"Throw the sugar over the side," he said. "Get rid of any excess cargo. We need to reduce as much weight as possible to pick up speed."

He met Izzy's surly gaze and lifted his eyebrows, Well ?

"We can throw as much valuable cargo over as you want," said Izzy, "but we'll still be weighed down by Bonnet's fucking books and other shit."

He was right, and Stede wasn't going to like sinking a second library, but Ed glanced back at the fleet of ships, stomach tight. It would have to be done.

"I understand, of course I understand," said Stede as he mournfully handed over book after book to a chain of crew members to be thrown overboard in a scene uncomfortably reminiscent of a year ago. "It's just - oh, FUCK! That's a first edition! Ohhh," he moaned, putting a hand over his eyes and squeezing them shut. Ivan had to pry his fingers off the book to hand to Frenchie. "No, no, keep going, I'll just be -" he gestured vaguely and staggered out of the room. 

Feeling guilty, even though he wasn't the cause of this round of purging, Ed slinked after him. 

"At least we hadn't replaced the harpsichord," Stede remarked as Ed came up to him in the hall. He was leaning against the wall, face dramatically turned upward. "That would be awful to chuck overboard."

He sighed and straightened. They walked side-by-side to the main deck. Ed lifted his eyes to the sails and assessed them. But the crew had done a tight job; there was nothing they could do to make them sail faster that way. 

"I wonder," said Stede in a halting, cautious voice that told Ed he was going to hate whatever he said next, "if perhaps the next step would be for me to slip away in the night on a dinghy. That way if they catch up to the Revenge, they'll let the rest of you go and leave you alone."

"No," said Ed flatly. "Apart from the fact you'd likely die, so would the rest of us. These guys will kill us if they catch up to us, whether you're here or not."

Stede paled.

"Well, then we need to make sure that doesn't happen," he said, putting on a resolute tone. 

They reached the stern of the ship and leaned against the railing, looking out at the sea, wind tossing their hair. They were quiet together for a long while. Then Ed turned his head and looked at Stede, golden in the sun, his brow knit with worry.

"Hey," he said softly, reaching out and pulling him close with an arm around his waist. "We'll escape the lot of them, I promise. We're already gaining ground."

"Really?" Stede asked, his gloomy expression lightening a bit.

"I swear it," said Ed, and it was slightly true. At the very least, the cadre of ships following them weren't gaining on them; it was too soon to tell if they were pulling ahead or not, but Ed was willing to bet his life on the fact they were incrementally widening the distance.

How long they would be chased was a whole other concern, though. 

It had occurred to Stede as well: "We've got enough provisions for a couple weeks," he said worriedly.

"Won't need it that long," said Ed, squeezing him. "I've got a plan."

The new moon was three days away. If they could keep up the speed until then, they could extinguish all lights on the ship and slip off course. 

"Won't they follow us once the day dawns?" asked Stede. He, Ed, Izzy, Oluwande, Lucius, and Jim were all in the captains' quarters, looking at the map Ed had laid out on the bare table. The starkness of the room kept his stomach unsettled and knotted; he hated to be reminded of that fucking miserable time a year ago.

Izzy snorted derisively, but Ed gave Stede an encouraging nod.

"A fair question," he said. "But I've cleverly altered our course so that by the time the new moon hits, we'll be close to here -" he pointed at the map - "Sabana-Camagüey Archipelago. There's a small waterway we can go down. The Revenge is the perfect size for it; most pirate ships are too large and can't make it. So even if someone spots us at dawn, it's highly likely they won't be able to make the trip down the canal after us. They'd smash up on the shore or run aground on a sandbank."

He paused and basked in the admiring looks from everyone, especially Stede, who stared at him with starry eyes as if he just hung the fucking moon in the sky. Then turned it into cheese. He craved that look from him. It went to his head faster than rum and made him giddy.

"Nice plan, boss," said Izzy laconically. "But won't they just blockade the entrance and starve us out?"

Ed gave him a look. As if he wouldn't have considered that.

"Once we're in and anchored we'll have the upper hand on any ships that dare to try," he said. "We can take them out with cannon fire from here -" he pointed on the map. "And if we need more supplies, we send some of the crew to replenish at  Camagüey." He put his pointer finger on the town and leveled a challenging look at Izzy.

Izzy didn't reply.

"I've brought all this upon us," said Stede quietly, looking wan and staring blankly at the map. "I've put us all in danger."

Lucius and Oluwande exchanged glances.

"Um, not to be, like, insensitive ," said Lucius, "but you kind of always do that? By not being that great of a pirate captain?"

"He means: we know what we signed up for, Captain," said Oluwande. "This isn't that big of a deal, considering the whole English navy was on our backs a year ago."

"But we're still here, aren't we?" Lucius said bracingly. 

Stede snorted. He gave them a watery smile. "Thank you."

"Well, you do pay us," said Jim, but they nudged him a little with their elbow. He did: Stede made sure his share of any raid and spoils went to what he called "an operating budget" that included the crew's biweekly salaries (reduced from what he originally had offered, but they made more profit off of pirating now, so everyone agreed it ended up being a raise when all was said and done.)

Stede lowered his eyes to the floor, but his smile remained.

Over the next three days, Ed kept his eyes on the pursuing pirates. They never advanced, but they didn't fall as far behind as he had hoped. 

The evening of the new moon was tense as the crew went about their duties after dinner, watching the darkening sky and casting repeated glances in the direction of the pirate ships. Finally Ed deemed it time and gave the order to cut all light. Lamp after lamp was extinguished at once and the Revenge blipped out of sight into the darkness.

Ed took the helm with Buttons on his left and Stede on his right, straining his eyes at the stars and blackness ahead, calculating and re-calculating in his mind their coordinates and angle. Every muscle quivered with tension. 

No one got any sleep that night; all stationed around the rails of the ship and keeping watch for any potential danger to rise up out of the darkness. 

By the first light of dawn, Ed's whole jaw ached from how long and tightly he'd been clenching it. But it all was worth it: a look through the telescope showed no hint of a ship on the horizon. It looked - tentatively - like they'd done it. The coast remained clear all day and into the night, which they again spent in total darkness out of a superstition of tempting fate. But their luck - Stede's luck - held, and in the mid-morning they came up to the waterway Ed had described.

"Do we dock?" Stede asked him quietly, massaging the tension of Ed's right hand, his left still holding onto the wheel. Ed had refused to let anyone else steer except for Izzy while Ed collapsed into bed and got a few hours of sleep. "Or do we keep going?"

Ed had been considering this very question. Buttons assured them they had thrown off the pirates ("Karl swears on it"), but - he cast a glance at Stede's face, noting how he was chewing his lip and the furrow in his brow seemed etched deep - the stakes were so precious that he didn't dare take anything for granted.

But before he could reply, a shout came from the side.

"Fucking hell! Took you bastards long enough, Jesus. Hey, slow down, will ya?"

A chill ran down his spine and he exchanged wide-eyed looks with a shocked Stede.

"Is that -" Stede started faintly as he and Ed ran to the side of the ship, Fang jumping forward to take the helm.

"HEY! BLACKIE! I said fucking slow down - oh, fuck! FINE!"

It was - Calico Jack, standing in a rowboat and looking mightily pissed off as they shot past him. He unhooked his whip from his hip and tied a small loop on the end. He swung it around his head a few times - Ed was reminded of Stede with his bolo - and let it fly, lassoing a small piece of wood from the ship with the unerring ability of a master whipper. He tried to brace himself in the boat, but the speed they were going at jerked him entirely off his feet and yanked him after them, making him spash-land in the water with a shout and dragging him inelegantly and painfully through the waves.

"You know, I'm glad he's still alive, just so I got to see that," said Stede, a tiny, petty smile on his mouth.

"AARRGGHHHH!" Jack yelled from the water, sputtering. "BLACKIE FUCKING - PULL ME UP, YOU FUCKER!"

"Oh, for fuck's sake," sighed Ed. He nodded at Izzy and Ivan, next to him. "Get him on board. Let's hear what the traitor has to say."

They hauled a soaking wet Calico Jack up to the deck of the ship while the rest of the crew apprehensively gathered around. 

Jack staggered to his feet and spat a mouthful of seawater at their feet.

"Jesus, took your time, didn't you?" he grumbled at Ed, ambling to the side to unhook his whip and start pulling it up.

"You've got some nerve, showing your face here, Jack," said Ed evenly, crossing his arms and glowering at his former friend. Stede, fists on his hips, also glared daggers at Jack. 

Jack gave him an astonished look, coiling his whip around his arm.

"What the fuck's crawled up your ass and died?" he asked. He hooked his whip back to his hip.

"Don't act like you can't remember aiding and abetting the English in our capture!" Stede said defiantly. 

"What? You're still mad about that?" Jack asked Ed with a scoff. "It's just pirate stuff, man! Besides, I tried to save your hide and get you out of there, remember? You're the idiot who went back to a ship targeted by the English. Besides, I had no idea about him being a saelocke." He jabbed a finger at Stede. "If I had known, things probably would have played out differently, okay?"

He shoved his hand out for Ed to shake the way they'd used to after a brawl or argument. 

Ed wavered a little. If he could push his overwhelming love and fierce protectiveness of Stede aside, he could admit Jack wasn't wrong: Pirates did that sort of shit to each other all the time. And Jack had acted loyally to him in his own way, trying to remove him from the situation. If only it hadn't come at the cost of Stede's safety, he could have forgiven him easily. 

He exchanged a glance with Stede, who inclined his head and said, "Sidebar."

They walked out of earshot of the others, Ed resting his hand on the small of Stede's back.

"What do you think?" Stede asked softly when they came to a stop. "You've known him longer than I. Can we trust him?"

"If there's something in it for him, there's no one better to have on your side than Calico Jack," Ed admitted. "He's a wily bastard, and cutthroat when he needs to be."

"Yes, I remember all too well," said Stede, glancing back at Jack with a darling little moue of distaste.

"Though," Ed said hesitantly, "he didn't know you yet, mate. If Izzy hadn't interfered and you had just met him by fate... I kinda think you two would have gotten along just fine."

Stede looked at Ed for a long, silent moment, expression unreadable.

"You want to forgive him," he said finally, voice soft. 

Ed dropped his eyes, ashamed. 

"Naw," he lied, kicking aimlessly at the ground. "He made his own bed."

Stede reached out and clasped his elbow.

"But he's your mate," he said, in that goddamn so-understanding way he did. Like he saw the conflicting feelings in Ed's chest, sorted them out, and cared about them all. "A very rare thing among pirates, I understand. You like him."

"You're more important than him, Stede," Ed said, looking back up. "I don't want you to think I don't know that."

"I know." Stede smiled at him, brown eyes soft and multicolored in the sunlight. "But it's important for you to have relationships besides me in your life. Let's hear him out."

God. Ed couldn't not kiss him after that.

"Ugh!" Jack said loudly behind them. "That actually happened, then? Those two fucking?"

Stede pulled back and closed his eyes, exhaling long and loud through his nose. Ed got the impression he was counting in his head. 

"Come on," he finally said, turning back to Jack as calm and composed as a king. Ed loved him so fucking much. 

"Fucking finally," Jack grunted when they returned. "We good?" He shoved his hand out again toward Ed.

Ed slapped it aside. 

"You're on thin fucking ice, mate," he said. "Ground rules: One - You're completely honest with us. I find out you lied about something, anything , I'm throwing you overboard. Two - you protect Stede the way you would me, got it?" 

"What are the rest of us, chopped liver?" Lucius muttered while Jack rolled his eyes elaborately. 

"Jesus Christ, you want me to kiss his ring or something?" he asked. "I already said I didn't know he was a saelocke before! Things are different now, okay? I've got a stake in his continued existence."

"How did you hear about that?" Stede asked suddenly. "And how did you find us?"

Jack grinned at him. "Thought you'd never ask. Though I'm mighty parched. Got any rum on board?"

"Not for you," Stede said flatly. "You can have ale, and only limited quantities while we hear you out."

"God," said Jack with a groan, walking over to the stairs and plopping down. "Fine! Someone get me some ale."

He waited until Roach reappeared with a frothy mug before he began.

"It's all over the place," he said after he took a huge swig. Foam speckled his mustache. "I heard about it at Spanish Jackie's a couple of days after you all took off in a blaze of glory. Good job, that," he added, sarcastically toasting Ed with his mug. "No quicker way to confirm a rumor than to shoot up the place and hightail it out of there. Anyway, by that time a lot of plans to catch him were being hatched. Lot of 'em nonsense, but a few ones struck me as mighty plausible, including Vane and Bellamy teaming up to hunt you down."

"That was Vane and Bellamy?" Ed said. "Fuck me."

"Sounds like he already is," said Jack with a raunchy laugh, slapping Stede on the back, making him stumble. Stede glared at Jack while he took another deep drink. "Anyway, yeah, the two of them plotted out your course and figured they could run you down. I heard the course points and figured out what your plan would be, since I know how you operate, you cantankerous dick."

"And what are you planning to get out of helping us?" Stede asked suspiciously.

"I reckoned I'd ride along while you guys figured out how the magic works, then grab me some in repayment for my assistance," Jack said.

Ed met Stede's eyes and raised his eyebrows. It was no less than what he'd expected.

"You can stay on board," Stede said, voice allowing for no argument. "Provided you remain helpful and courteous and cause no harm to the crew or to the ship."

"Cheers," said Jack, downing the last of his drink. He held out his mug to Roach. "Another?"

"Actually, I'll show you where the ale is," Stede said, suddenly shoving his way in front of Roach and cutting off his approach. He gestured for Jack to rise. "Follow me."

"What do you think, Edward?" Izzy asked as the two left, Stede leading the way. "We need a plan."

"I already told you the fucking plan," Ed said in exasperation. "Vane and Bellamy try to get us, we lure them to the waterway and take them out."

"Um, pardon me," said Lucius, raising his hand, "but did anyone else catch that Calico Jack said there were 'a few ' plans that struck him as plausible? Shouldn't we find out what those are?"

"We need to think long-term, Captain," Oluwande said. "Now that everyone knows about Stede...."

"I know, I know," Ed said shortly.

He strode to the railing and looked out at the sea, tense. This was life-altering; not just for Stede but for all of them. There was no putting this genie back in the bottle. They had to either run for the rest of their lives or make it very clear that Stede was off-limits to everyone else. But pirates were nothing if not undeterred and relentless in their pursuit of something they wanted. 

He turned back to find the crew looking at him expectantly.

"I need to think it through," he admitted.

A few faces fell - Black Pete's noticeably - but most nodded in understanding. 

"We'll think on it too, Captain," said Frenchie loyally.

"Yeah," said Wee John. "Between all of us, we can come up with a mighty good plan."

The rest all murmured in agreement and the mood shifted into something more hopeful. The crew started brainstorming ideas, hands gesturing, expressions animated. 

Ed watched them with pride as Calico Jack staggered back on deck and came up to him, eyes wild.

"Jesus, man," he said, looking at Ed with a spooked expression. "You've found yourself a real lunatic!"

Stede appeared at the top of the stairs and trotted toward them, smugly adjusting his frilly cuffs.

"Yeah, I know," Ed said, utterly besotted. 

Jack scoffed and shook his head, then made his way to the conversing group, shying away from where Buttons was staring warily at him, Karl perched on his head.

"What do you do?" he asked as Stede came up to him.

"Hm? Oh, I simply had a little chat with Jack and made it quite clear what would happen if he harmed you in any way, including emotionally or mentally, or if he tried to come between us again," Stede said serenely, smiling and nodding at the crew glancing over at his reappearance. 

"You're mental," Ed said, wrapping his arms around Stede's waist and tugging him close. "Absolutely mental."

"I suppose I am at that," Stede replied, smiling and turning into him. He rested his hands on Ed's chest and leaned up for a kiss. 

They broke apart and joined the circle, which had loosely gathered back around Calico Jack. Ed noticed he was without a mug of ale and standing a little straighter than he had been before. 

"So Bellamy and Vane are chasing after you by sea, and have a combined experience of some twenty-fuck years," Calico Jack said, intent and focused the way he would get before a battle. "Howard and Williams are all setting up camp at the Republic of Pirates, figuring you'll have to come back to it at some point. Tooley made out for Tortuga, Forrest for Port Royal, same reasoning. Tay decided to cut off the Straits of Florida, and Bant is over at the Yucatan Channel. Harriman and Fly are over at the Windward Passage. Low's heading northeastward to the Americas to cut you off. Fletcher's an unknown, though rumor has it he's teaming up with Mackey to come up with something. Now that's pretty much the whole damn pirate world, wouldn't you say?"

"Oh," said Stede faintly, pale and sick-looking.

"Don't panic just yet," said Ed. "I've been in worse straits and gotten out fine." He was pretty sure that was true, despite Izzy's dubious look. Regardless, this was the sort of thing that cleared his mind and made his blood sing. He could take on the whole lot of pursuers single-handedly and win, the way he was feeling at the prospect of a sea-fight.

"Boy," Izzy barked at Lucius, who blinked and scowled at him, "go get us a map. We need to plot this all out."

Ed didn't, actually: He already had it all lined up in his head and playing out, but he knew he was unusual like that. Stede looked obviously lost, God love him, but so did most of the others, so he waited until Lucius came meandering back with a rolled-up map under his arm to go into details.

Ed unfurled it on the main deck and everyone knelt around it, pinning the edges down with their knees. People donated their rings as pieces to represent the pirates at play and soon they had their set up, with Stede's ruby ring depicting the Revenge, slowly approaching the Sabana-Camagüey Archipelago.

"We're surrounded," Stede said in dismay, surrounding the map.

"Hm, more to the north than the south," murmured Ed, stroking his beard. He wished he had his pipe: He always thought better when he smoked. "If we abandoned ship, crossed Cuba, and stole another ship on the other side of the island in Manzanillo, we could bypass them all and sail south."

"Yes, and if I had wings I could fly out of here," said Izzy sarcastically. "We need practical solutions, boss, not fantasies."

Ed glared at him. "It's not a fucking fantasy, Iz! Who's to say it wouldn't work?"

"Eh, I'm thinking we're better off staying with the ship, Blackie," said Jack, fairly reluctantly. "You know I'm up for a good hike-and-fight as much as anyone, but last I heard business was dropping in Manzanillo, and there's no other port town for miles. They catch up to us there, we're fucked."

"What if we sail toward the Sargasso Sea?" Stede asked, taking his ruby ring between two fingers and tracing it along a path on the map, winding around the Bahamas. "Go between the Republic of Pirates and Tortuga?"

"That'll put us back in the path of Vane and Bellamy," said Ed, grabbing Jack's onyx ring that was standing in for them and pulling it along to show where they would intercept Stede's ruby. "They'd catch up with us before we hit the Ragged Island Range."

"Maybe they should," suggested Jack with a shrug, arms crossed over his chest. "Then we fight them and take them out and have two less dicks in the world to worry about."

"We could come up with a fuckery," said Stede, face brightening. 

"It will take a few days until we'd meet, right?" said Wee John. "We could come up with something by then."

The rest of the crew murmured or shouted their agreement, energy suddenly crackling through the air.

"And then what?" asked Jim quietly, kneeling at the outer edge of the group and not looking up, the rim of their hat hiding their eyes. 

Silence descended. 

They were right, Ed thought, stormy frustration circling inside him. Even if they won that fight, it gave enough time for someone else to catch them. And the bigger problem - that Stede was now a prize to be fought over and captured - wasn't dealt with.

"You could leave me at Cuba," said Stede in a low voice, pointing his finger. "Drop me off here. Then take off north and try the fuckery. Once the word spreads I'm no longer on the ship, you'll be safe."

"We're not going leave you," Ed snapped. "So fucking stop suggesting it!"

"It only makes sense, Ed," Stede argued, looking up at him with his brown eyes shining in the sunlight. "Surely you see that -"

"All I see is that you're once again trying to run off the moment things get rough, just like you always fucking do!" Ed shouted, slamming his fist on the map, making the rings rattle on the deck. Stede flinched back, eyes widening with hurt and his mouth dropping open.

"Fuck this!" Ed said, shoving himself to his feet. "I can't fucking think like this!"

He stormed off, thudding down the stairs and stomping his way to their cabin. He needed a fucking drink. 

Seething, he grabbed the decanter with the good rum and poured himself a glass, hands shaking with the strength of his emotions. 

"Fucking think ," he gritted to himself, slamming the top of the decanter back in and banging it back into its spot on the shelf. "Fucking make a fucking plan, you fucking idiot!"

He swallowed a large gulp and started pacing, muttering to himself and examining the situation from every angle. There was a way out of this. He just had to find it. 

The sound of panicked shouting and running ahead caught his attention, his stomach jerking sickly. He dropped the nearly-empty glass back on the shelf and ran for the door, hand on the hilt of his knife as he did.

"Fuck!" he said as soon as he appeared on deck. A strange storm was brewing; the clouds showing a greenish tinge Ed had never seen before. The swirled center spoke of a hurricane.

"What's the plan, Captain?" yelled Roach as he strode up to the clustered group at the side of the ship. The more experienced sailors were running around and tying things down or wrestling with the whipping sails.

Ed sized up the approaching storm, trying to calculate. Sailing was out of the question, even as pursued as they were. Trying to ride it out was an option or - 

"Can we make land?" he yelled to Buttons, who had taken over the helm. There was no sign of Karl; Ed assumed he had taken cover.

"Hard to say, Captain," he yelled back. "It's spreading out like nothing I've ever seen before."

Looking back at the storm, he saw that Buttons was right. It was approaching them with a supernatural speed, lightning crackling in the bilious-green clouds. 

"Fuck!" he said again. "Where's Stede?"

"He went to help Oluwande secure the hatches," said Lucius, clutching himself and looking faint. "What's going to happen?"

Ed turned to start looking for Stede, but before he moved the entire ship rocked as an enormous wave lifted them and bore them toward the storm. Off balance, Ed crashed to the deck, as did everyone else, with shouts of pain and surprise.

"What the hell?!" Calico Jack hollered from somewhere out of sight. 

Ed got himself to his knees, checking the scene - the others were also rising and trying to gain their balance, though the ship was lurching from side to side. Satisfied no one was in danger, he staggered upright and headed for the stairs, but before he got there Oluwande dragged himself out, hand over hand on the railing, followed closely by Stede, blonde hair plastered to his head from wind and droplets of sea and sprinkles of rain. 

"Ed!" he called as he emerged onto the deck, holding tightly to the railing. Ed made his way to him. "What's happening?"

A loud roar, like that of a beast, answered before Ed could. The crew started screaming as another wave lifted them up, raindrops starting to pelt down on them. It pulled them under the center of the green thunderclouds, illuminated by flashes of sharp lighting. A pale face emerged from the clouds, bullish and animal, and Ed's heart stopped in his chest. The screams around him took on a fever pitch as the head lowered, two enormous white horns appeared through the flashing clouds, and two flaming green eyes opened. Then the mouth opened and another roar sounded, deafeningly loud. Ed clasped his hands over his ears, but they still rang from the sound. 

He managed to get to Stede's side, who was also clutching his hands over his ears and cowering against the wall next to the stairs, eyes enormous. Buttons appeared next to them, fully naked and dripping wet, his mouth moving, but Ed couldn't hear over the roaring of the storm, the beast, and his own head. Buttons reached out and put his hands over Stede's head, fingers laced in a strange way, Ed grabbed Stede's arm and turned to face the beast, whose clouded, flashing, swirling head was lowering even further, blazing eyes growing brighter and hotter. The rainwater in front of them evaporated into steam as the monstrous face approached. 

Ed suddenly realized they were goners. They were all about to die: No one could fight this thing. He turned to Stede, intending on spending his last moments staring at his beloved face, but a flash of light blinded him - perhaps it was the lightning? - and his hand suddenly clenched on empty air. When he blinked away after-flash spots, Stede was gone.

The great bullish head stopped abruptly. The nostrils moved as if it was sniffing, then it miraculously began to recede. The burning green eyes closed, the white head merged into the roiling clouds, which slowed and lightened and steadied, and soon turned pale and whispy as sunbeams broke through them. A few drops of rain continued as the waves calmed and the ship slowly stilled.

The crew looked at each other in silent disbelief, all frozen where they were clutching onto each other (Lucius and Black Pete; Jim and Oluwande; Frenchie and Wee John; Ivan and Fang) or onto something (Roach the mainmast; the Swede a barrel; Izzy the side of the railing, over which he was being spectacularly sick.)

"Stede!" Ed yelled, twisting all the way around.

Stede was gone. 

He whirled on Buttons and grabbed him by the upper arms, slippery from the downpour.  "What did you do?! Where is he?"

"Calm yerself, Cap'n," he replied, grinning proud and wide. "It worked!"

"What worked, exactly?" Lucius asked faintly, dragging a boggling Black Pete behind him to stand beside Ed. The rest of the crew followed, trembling and huge-eyed. "What the hell was that thing? Where's Stede?"

Ed jumped as a fluttering of golden-yellow wings appeared next to him. A mid-sized yellow warbler settled on his shoulder, cooing. It fluffed itself up and shook off rainwater from its feathers.

"There's the Cap'n," said Buttons, nodding at the bird, which was now preening Ed's long hair while he stayed stock-still and stared at it with huge eyes. "And that thing was the White Bull. I hadn't really thought... Molly had said it was likely the thing that drove out the saelockes from the ocean or ensnared them, but I didnae believe her. I should have known to listen to a Gruen. But she was right: It came back after the last remaining saelocke. So I changed him into something it wouldn't be hunting."

The warbler hopped up Ed's shoulder to nestle against his cheek, cooing louder. Its head was superbly soft, incredibly delicate, and warm. It was the size of Ed's hand: he could hold it in his palm. Ed felt a little faint.

"Well, this is fucking weird," said Calico Jack, shaking his head. "What the fuck's up with you guys and birds?"

The bird - Stede - took off from Ed's shoulder, making him flinch back from the flapping wings. He circled over Jack and pooped, a white smear suddenly plopping on Jack's head, who jerked back and yelped. He then landed on the capstan and began preening under a wing.

"Wow," said Frenchie, clearly fighting a laugh as Jack wiped at his hair and cursed. "I guess you could say you're on the Captain's shit list, mate."

Several of the crew snickered, but Ed didn't feel like laughing. 

"Great thinking, really inspired, but the threat is over now," he said to Buttons. "Turn him back!"

"Ah," said Buttons regretfully. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"First of all, the threat isn't as over as you might think. The White Bull won't stop at anything until it drives from the sea the saelockes."

"What's its beef with them anyway?" asked Black Pete. 

"It was said that the White Bull was beloved by the goddess of the sea," intoned Buttons. "She gave it some powers to influence the sky and delighted at the way it would turn the sea into waves and storms. But eventually, she grew tired of it and created the saelockes to entertain her instead. She gave them gifts of good fortune and minor powers over various aspects of the ocean, in order to combat the havoc wrecked by the White Bull. As if being cast from the sea goddess' good favor wasn't enough, sailors grew to adore the saelockes and despise the White Bull."

"So the White Bull killed all the saelockes?" asked Wee John, sounding distraught.

"'It appears so," said Buttons. 

"Great. Now back to Stede," said Ed. "What do you mean, you can't turn him back?"

"If he returns to his form, the White Bull will return," said Buttons. "Besides, I think it will wear off eventually."

"You think ?" Ed demanded, the same time Lucius said, "So wait. Why didn't it come after Stede before now? Like, he didn't just turn into a sealocke, right? Right?"

Buttons just shrugged, seemingly in answer to them both.

"Well okay then," said Lucius, rolling his eyes.

"What do we do now, Captain?" asked Oluwande. 

"Great question," said Roach. The others agreed. 

Ed was distracted from answering by Stede taking flight to his shoulder again, fluttering down and bobbing his head around.

"Can he understand us?" he asked Buttons.

"Not in the normal human way," said Buttons. "He's a bird."

"Yes, I know he's a fucking bird!" snapped Ed, flinging out his arms. Stede squawked indignantly and flapped his yellow wings to keep his balance.

"He says to calm down," Buttons said.

"That's right, Buttons can talk to birds!" said Frenchie excitedly. "Ask him if he can shit on Calico Jack again."

"Hey, fuck you!" snapped Jack.

"Buttons, ask him how he feels," suggested Oluwande.

"He says 'lovely, thank you,'" said Buttons after a few seconds of silence. "And I should warn you, birds don't think like humans. The way he is experiencing the world is fundamentally and irrevocably changed."

"What the fuck does that mean?" demanded Ed. 

Buttons shrugged.

Ed, at the end of his proverbial rope, took a step toward him and Oluwande quickly interceded.

"Okay! The important thing is that he's fine, right, Captain?"

"Guess so," grumbled Ed, subsiding. Stede chirped and toyed with Ed's beard with his beak.

"He says not to worry about him," Buttons translated. "And that he's rather hungry so he's off to find some tasty berries from the galley."

Stede took off and, true to his - Buttons' - word, flew down the steps and vanished from sight.

Everyone looked at each other.

"Fucking weird," said Calico Jack again. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Um, Captain?" called Ivan from where he'd wandered to the railing. "Is this a good time to mention I see some ships heading our way?"

Everyone turned and started groaning and swearing.

"Son of a bitch!" said Black Pete, stomping a foot. "I forgot about the pirates chasing us!"

"What do we do, Captain?" Oluwande asked. Everyone looked at Ed.

"Raise the white flag," he said grimly. "But prepare yourselves for battle. We'll tell them Stede's no longer on board and see if they depart peaceably."

The air was as strained and thick as they waited for the ships to approach, then anchor. 

"They're loading up a dinghy," reported Izzy, watching through a telescope. Ed also had a telescope pressed to his eye, but stayed silent as he observed the scene. "Two dinghies. Fuck. Three."

"Are they armed?" asked Ivan.

"Yes, but a normal amount," said Izzy. "They don't appear to be gearing up for a battle."

"Vane and Bellamy are coming over themselves," murmured Ed. "Unlikely they'll shoot on the ship with them on board."

But despite these positive signs, the crew remained silent and tense as the dinghies approached. 

Bellamy was the first to climb up the ladder to board the Revenge, followed closely by Vane. 

"Blackbeard," Bellamy greeted while the rest of their crews clambered up. Soon a dozen men were scattered around, all armed and looking conspicuously among the crew of the Revenge - to get a sight of Stede, most likely. Their faces gleamed with avarice. 

"Bellamy," Ed returned evenly, swaggering forward with a loose gait and his hands easily on his knife and gun. He looked to the brown-haired man who stood beside Bellamy. "Vane. Let's cut to the chase: You're here for Stede Bonnet. Hate to tell you, but he's no longer on the ship. He ran off."

"How convenient," said Vane with a sneer. "I don't believe you."

"Yeah, I didn't expect you to," said Ed with a shrug. He stepped aside and held out a welcoming arm. "Search the ship. Be my guest."

Bellamy and Vane exchanged a glance, then Vane said, "Men, look everyone. Bonnet's hiding somewhere. Root him out."

"You're not going to find him," said Ed, nonchalantly examining his nails as men streamed past him, shouting to each other and thudding down the stairs to the interior of the ship. "He scarpered off a few days ago. Couldn't handle it."

"Got to say, I'm surprised you'd just let him go," said Bellamy, eying him. "Thought you two were... close ."

"Fucking close," agreed Vane, smirking. 

"I don't fucking own him," said Ed. "He wants to leave, he fucking leaves." This was uncomfortably close to the truth and still a sore spot for him. 

Neither man looked convinced, and they joined in the search of the ship. 

Ed stayed where he was, Izzy practically buzzing with furious energy by his side. Despite Ed's calm projection, his heart pounded in his chest and his ears prickled, expecting at any moment someone would come across a yellow warbler on a fucking pirate ship and start some shit. Birds were so fucking fragile. All it would take would be one person to reach out, grab him, and squeeze....

But eventually, the noise lessened and the bustle slowed. 

Vane and Bellamy returned, both sour-faced.

"Told ya," Ed said when they started reassembling their crew. "He headed off for Cuba a few days ago." 

"I still find it hard to believe you wouldn't try harder to keep such a... fine advantage on your side," said Bellamy, scowling.

"The more time you spend pissing around here, the further away he gets," drawled Calico Jack, who had taken advantage of the chaos and Stede's transformation to procure some rum. He took a swig. "Say, you fellas up for joining forces?" he asked, straightening from where he'd been slumped against the mainmast and staggering forward. He belched. "Thought I'd try my luck with Blackbeard, but turns out he let the saelocke slip away. Fucking losing his touch, man."

"He's not the only one, Calico Jack," said Vane with a sneer. Ed had never liked Vane; Bellamy he'd always been indifferent towards, but Vane was a nasty piece of work. "You're a fucking disgrace. I would as soon let a mangy, flea-bitten dog on board."

"Geez, calm down, fine," said Jack, rolling his eyes. He started to head back to his post and almost tripped over his own feet.

"Pathetic," said Vane, storming to the rope ladder. 

"Would be nice if a few of them fell in the ocean on their way back," commented Jim as they watched the pirates depart. Jack returned to the steps and seated himself, dropping his incompetent-drunk act now there was no one to distract. He draped his arms over his legs, rum bottle dangling from one fist.

"Yeah," agreed Frenchie. "Wouldn't that be a bit of good luck."

"All right, everyone act natural until they're out of sight," Ed said. "Then we can plan our next move. In the meantime, I'm going to find Stede."

He checked the galley first, then the captain's quarters. Slowly, he worked his way from stern to bow, calling out for Stede and looking everywhere for a small yellow bird. His panic grew exponentially as each room and location turned out empty, even the crow's nest. Soon more crew joined in the hunt, to no avail.

"Maybe he really did fly off for Cuba?" suggested Oluwande after over an hour had passed and no trace of Stede appeared - either as a bird or human.

"He's sleeping, likely as not," said Buttons while Ed paced back and forth on the main deck. 

"Can't you call for him, Buttons?" asked Wee John. "Wake him up?"

"I can try." But before Buttons could make a move, a trill sounded through the air and Stede soared into sight on glowing gold wings and landed on Ed's shoulder. He bobbed his head and hopped up to start preening Ed's beard in a consoling fashion, chirping away.

"He says he was just having a little shut-eye but the feel of your distress roused him from his slumber, Captain," Buttons translated. 

"Hold up," said Lucius, an amusedly perplexed half-smile on his face. "He felt Blackbeard's distress? Is he a psychic bird on top of everything?"

"Naw," said Buttons. "Animals have keener senses than most humans and are attuned to such things."

"My dog used to know whenever I had a bad day," said Fang mournfully. Ivan patted him on the shoulder as Fang sniffled.

"All right, you lot," said Ed, suddenly completely exhausted from this whole fucking day. "I'm going to go plot our next course. Stay out of trouble."

He strode off, Stede perched on his shoulder, but when he got to the captain's cabin he immediately crawled into bed and pulled Stede's yellow robe over himself. Stede fluttered to the window sill while he situated himself in bed, then hopped down, pecking at his boots until Ed struggled up again and took them off, along with his weapons and accouterments until he was just in his leather pants and purple undershirt.

He waited until Ed curled up again under his robe to hop up on Ed's chest and settle down as if he was in a nest, breast fluffing up until he was an adorable little feathery ball. He cocked his head at Ed.

"Yeah, I lied about them killing us if you weren't here," Ed croaked. "And I'm not sorry. I couldn't stand the thought of you running off all alone with a horde of cutthroat pirates after you, not knowing if you were alive or d-" He choked up, vision blurring.

Stede cooed and hopped up Ed's chest, preening his beard and hair soothingly, working through knots and tangles with his little beak while Ed's breath labored and he struggled to get himself under control.

He reached up and gently stroked Stede's delicate head with the tip of his finger. Stede chirped and closed his beady eyes, letting Ed pet him.

After a while, Ed dropped his arm back to the bed, exhaustion hitting him like a force. He watched half-lidded as Stede nestled down in his beard, a small, fragile, warm weight on his breastbone.

When he woke up it was dark in a way that his inner senses told him was pre-dawn. Stede was still snuggled up against him, his head tucked under a yellow wing and his chest rising and falling with his faster-than-human breathing. Ed was immensely relieved; he'd had a distant fear that he'd roll over in his sleep and crush him.

He lifted his hand and gently stroked down Stede's back with his index finger, marveling at the way his feathers fell.

"Fucking fascinating," he mumbled. 

He fell back asleep.

Birdsong woke him up. He squinted into beams of sunlight and looked around until he spotted bird-Stede on the window sill, singing his little feathery heart out.

"Yeah, yeah, it's morning," Ed grumbled, rolling over and sitting up. He rubbed his hands over his face. He felt hungover, even though he'd not drunk anything before he crashed. Emotional hangover.

Stede fluttered over to him and perched on his knee, still singing. He'd always been a morning person, so it tracked he'd be a cheerful fucker as a bird.

Ed eyed him. "You feeling more human? Like you're going to switch back anytime soon?" 

Stede chirped and bobbed his head, then took off and ate a mosquito that was flying through the room.

"Great," said Ed, then got himself ready to face the day.

"Your boyfriend's still a bird, huh?" Jack asked as Ed came up on the quarterdeck, Stede perched on his shoulder. Jack had his ever-present bottle of rum in hand and offered it to Ed, who shook his head.

Jack harumphed. He took a slug and eyed Stede, half-suspiciously, half-thoughtfully. 

"What are you going to do if he stays like that?" he asked. "You gonna dump him? You can't fuck like that. Well, I guess you could try, see how it goes. Work on the mechanics and shit."

"Jesus, Jack!" said Ed, glaring at him. "What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"What?" Jack asked, affronted. "It's an honest question!"

"He's not going to stay like this, okay?"

"He better not. I want in on that magic shit. Unless he had he saelocke powers like this," said Jack. "But it doesn't seem likely, since the whole point was to get that bull thing off our backs and it seemed to work." He took another meditative swig. Stede twittered in a way that managed to sound judgmental and took flight from Ed's shoulder. Jack watched him go, flying down the ship and disappearing from sight. "Gotta say, the guy hasn't seemed that lucky from what I've seen. Kinda nothing but trouble, if I'm looking at it honest."

"Yeah?" said Ed, walking up to the bow railing, grabbing a handful of rope and leaning over to assess the clouds and sky.  

"You don't think so?" Jack asked in disbelief, following him.

Ed thought back over the past year plus, from the time he met Stede. He considered everything that happened in the meantime, the good and the bad.

"I think he's the best thing that's ever fucking happened to me," he said honestly. "I think meeting him was the goddamn luckiest that I've ever been."

"Seriously?" Jack stared at him. "Never thought I'd see the day. He must have some kind of magic to change fucking Blackbeard."

Ed frowned. This had been a sore point between him and Stede early on when they'd reconnected. 

"He didn't change me," he said, looking at Jack, a man he's known for decades; a relationship that helped shape him as he grew. "He just... rounded me out. Made me see some things clearer."

"Made you no fucking fun anymore," Calico Jack lamented, shaking his bottle at him. "No drinking? Come on! And the old Blackie would have been laughing through that whole encounter with Vane and Bellamy yesterday. Probably would have put a couple of holes in some of their men, just for a lark."

"Yeah, probably," agreed Ed, then added baldly, "I didn't have much to live for back then." The stakes had never felt as high as they had since he met Stede, fell in love with him, and realized how much he stood to lose. 

Jack's eyebrows shot up. "Jesus."

"Edward," said Izzy, appearing on deck and coming up to Ed's elbow. "What's our course?"

Ed exhaled and gestured out. "Set us northeasterly, Iz. We'll break through the Bahamas and head for the expanse of the Sargasso Sea to shake the devils."

"Aye, captain," said Izzy. But before he left, he paused for a moment and Ed stood with him on his right and Jack on his left, all three of them staring out into the sun and sea, wind catching on their hair and clothes. A feeling of mortality hit Ed suddenly, a nostalgic sense of "one last adventure with the old gang." 

Then Izzy stepped back to relay Ed's orders and the moment broke. 

But when Jack offered him the bottle of rum after taking a drink, this time Ed took it.

For three days they had rocky sailing; the impact of Stede's transformation was immediately felt. Ed had never so appreciated how smoothly the ship had run before until pieces seemed to bear the strain of the year's worth of sailing all at once. The rudder was slower to respond, the helm harder to turn; the sails constantly needed tending to. 

Stede remained a bird. Perhaps it was paranoia, but Ed felt as though Stede's human consciousness was slipping away as time passed. He less frequently reacted to comments made by Ed, and whenever Buttons translated something from him it was disconnected from what was happening around them: Instead usually focused on the weather, Stede's hunger, or his thoughts on migration (which was a whole other concern that hadn't occurred to Ed earlier: What if Stede stayed a bird and just... flew away? The thought made him sick. He'd known he would always struggle with his neediness and fear that Stede would abandon him again, but this was a whole new terrifying nightmare he was emotionally unprepared for.)

He tried to console himself with the fact that Stede still followed him around as he moved through the ship, flying after him singing his pretty birdsongs, perching on his shoulder, preening his hair, roosting in his beard or chest at night. 

Calico Jack helped keep his mind off his worries, as was his talent. They ended up drinking together at night, reminiscing, joking, and laughing. Whether it was Stede's threat, Ed's threat, or the fact that Jack didn't have an ulterior motive (at least, not one that he hadn't disclosed, like his interest in saelocke magic), his presence was mellower than his last visit. He still got rowdy in a crowd, getting the crew singing and dancing, pulling out whippies again, tackling Ed and wrestling him when he sensed Ed getting too caught up in his mind, and his energy likewise getting stuck and pent-up, making him overly anxious.

After the last time he'd seen him, Ed had thought they'd never get along the same way again. But an old relationship was a lot harder to put down.

"Yeah, what can I say, I love ya, you dopey old bastard," said Calico Jack with a shrug when Ed said this as a drunken confession on the third night. Then he grabbed Ed around the neck and rubbed his knuckles in his skull, until Ed punched him in the kidneys and broke free.

Jack ended up sleeping on the floor and Ed staggered into bed. Stede hopped down from where he'd been preening his feathers by the windowsill. Between the drink, the camaraderie, and Stede's delicate weight on his chest, he fell asleep feeling better than he had in days.

Which ended up a blessing, since the next morning saw him with a pounding headache, staring grimly at a line of pirate ships on the horizon. 

"Well, fuck me," drawled Calico Jack, glaring at the fleet. "Bet you anything Vane sent back a man to the Republic of Pirates to call in reinforcements on us. Fucker."

"Yeah, I'm not taking that bet, mate," said Ed. Stede shifted uneasily on Ed's shoulder.

"Same thing as last time, Captain?" asked Roach. "They search the ship?"

"Um, may I point out there are rather a LOT of ships out there," said Lucius worriedly. "Way more than there were last time? Why would they send so many more after us when we proved he wasn't on board??"

"Easy, babe," said Black Pete, massaging Lucius' shoulders. 

Ed was about to call for the white flag, prepared to go through the same song and dance as last time, when a cannon boomed in the distance. The cannonball hit the top of the main mast in a near-perfect shot and it splintered with a loud, deafening crack.

Everyone yelled and ran from the falling wood and debris. Stede squawked loudly and flapped into the air. Before Ed could take another breath to yell out an order to man the cannons, two more retorts: Another cannonball to the main mast, and one to the mizzenmast.

"They're crippling us!" yelled Calico Jack. "Another hit and we're sitting ducks!"

As if he summoned it, two more shots: The mizzenmast down; the ships approaching. 

"Fucking fire at will!" Ed screamed. He ran to a cannon and started loading it himself while the rest of the crew scrambled to follow his lead.

They managed to return some fire and got in a few shots, but were taking more damage than they ever had before. A cannonball to the hull sounded their doom.

Ed grabbed Izzy's arm and yanked him close to yell over the sound of battle.

"We've got to abandon ship," he shouted. 

"We'll die!" Izzy yelled back. 

"Might not," yelled Ed. "They're only aiming at the ship to take it out. They want us as prisoners."

"Wait!" Frenchie shoved in between the two of them, pointing. "Buttons!"

Ed and Izzy turned together. Buttons was nude again and chanting ferociously, face bright red and muscles straining from the effort.

"Everyone, pray to Poseidon or whoever you will that this works," Ed said, tightly clutching the lighter he'd been using on the fuses.

A bright flash, and Stede suddenly fell to the ground, appearing in midair from where he must have been flying. But to the crew it looked as if he blinked into existence from thin air. He hit the deck with an " oof ." He shakily pushed himself up with his hands, slowly shaking his blonde head, eyes vague and distant.

"Stede!" Ed dropped the lighter and ran forward, throwing himself down on the deck next to him, ignoring the screaming pain in both knees from hitting the deck hard. He grabbed his shoulders with shaking hands. He pulled him up to look at his face. "Are you hurt?"

Stede didn't respond, eyes still unfocused and head swiveling back and forth. 

"No, it's not right," he murmured.

"What isn't?" Ed asked, frantically running his hands up and down his arms, his back, his legs, looking for injuries and broken bones. A cannon boomed and he flinched, grabbing Stede in his arms and crushing him to his chest, hunching over him as if he could shelter him from a fucking cannonball blast.

The cannonball hit the foremast and the crew groaned in despair.

But the mast didn't fall. It barely looked scratched.

"It's wrong, something's wrong," Stede kept muttering against Ed's chest, shaking his head. He pushed away, ignoring Ed's sound of protest. 

Frowning, he staggered to his feet and toward the obliterated mainmast as if in a trance. He reached out and put his hands on it lovingly.

"Cherrywood, from Brazil, constructed over 32 days," he murmured, running both palms up and then down the mast. " Hymenaea courbaril . Lovely, just lovely."

Ed, sitting on his haunches, watched in disbelief as the mast... repaired itself. Between a couple of blinks of his eyes, it was taller, then taller, then smoother, then the sail was attached, then it was, miraculously, whole again.

Stede pulled away and daze-walked to the mizzenmast. He pressed his hands against it, then his cheek. "Only 25 days to construct. So clever! Same beautiful wood, also known as jatoba, locust, or courbaril. Looking at you, so tall and proud."

Again, the mast just mended itself in a way that made Ed's brain hurt. It was like the view in front of him wavered, and then there was more mast than there had been, then even more, and then a sail where there had been no sail, and then the mast was tall and proud once again.

The crew stood silent and hushed as Stede continued to wander around the ship, cooing sweet nothings to parts of the ship that had been damaged and lovingly recalling how each piece had been built. He even leaned over the railing above the hull that was pock-marked from the cannonball and ran his hand along the side of the ship, murmuring words lost to the sound of the waves and wind until the hull was glistening and brand new again.

When he was done he turned his face to the sun, beaming. He closed his eyes and took in a deep breath of sea air, face turning tranquil. Then he blinked his eyes open and he was Ed's Stede again.

"Um, hate to break the bad news," said Lucius while Stede stared at the crew and the crew stared at him, "but I think the secret's out." 

He pointed at the fleet of ships, a few of which were now close enough to see figures clustered on the decks, standing silent and still and watching the Revenge. Two small dignies were in the water, rowing toward them, the pirates in them gaping.

"Oh, bugger," said Stede.

A crack of lightning forked through the sky, and ominous clouds slowly gathered overhead.

"Oh, bugger ," said Stede.

"Fuck me sideways," said Ed at the same time.

The clouds swirled above them, the turbulent waves splashing higher and higher on the side of the ship, which rocked hard with each watery attack. The crew on the other ship, not realizing what was happening, was scrambling to secure the ship as well as to reload and fire upon the Revenge. A cannon blasted and a ball ripped through the air, just to their right, shifted off course from the increasing tempest.

The appearance and fury of the White Bull came upon them even more monstrous than before; the wind shrieking around them as a huge mouth took shape and opened in a deafening roar. Everyone clapped their hands over their ears and cowered as the immense head appeared above them. The blazing green eyes opened and focused.

"Turn him back!" Ed screamed at Buttons.

"If I do, I don't know I'll be able to change it!" Buttons yelled in return, the words faint in the thunder and wind. "It could be too much!"

Ed, gripping Stede to him, looked around. The crew was huddled together, most gazing in terror as the White Bull's shape solidified above them. Some looked back and forth between the Bull and the enemy ship, which at least had stopped firing.

Stede was shaking in his arms. The White Bull, now fully formed in the sky, large as a castle, huffed out steam from its nostrils. The green eyes smoldered with fire and it advanced on hooves that blazed with flashes of light. It opened its mouth and roared, the air vibrating in front of it from heat.

"Do it!" Ed screamed at Buttons. 

A grappling hook catching on the railing near him caught his attention. A group of pirates from the other ship were climbing up the side - how they had made it the last distance through the gales of wind and battering waves he didn't know. All he cared about were the glistening swords in the hands of those were crested the side and into the boat, gawking at the White Bull, who took another step toward them, thunder clouds roiling out in its wake.

One of the enemy pirates, ashen-faced, lifted a shaking musket and fired at the White Bull, to no effect. When he saw that, he turned and pointed at Stede.

"The saelocke!" he screamed to the men behind him.

Ed tensed, unsure if that was a command to grab Stede or a realization that he was the cause of the terror bearing down on them, but neither was a good option. He pushed Stede behind him, braced his feet on the deck, and drew his knife. 

Two pirates threw themselves at him at once. He twisted away and managed to slash the arm of one, but the other struck out before he fully withdrew, barely missing Ed's stomach. Something black appeared beside him and attacked; Izzy had joined the fight. Ed grabbed his pistol and cracked it down on the head of a pirate going after Izzy. Another took his place and Ed had to dance away, wishing he'd strapped on a sword instead of his usual knife and pistol combo: The other pirates had the advantage of a longer reach. He spun away from another attack, hitting the  side of the ship, and quickly looked around.

Some of the Revenge crew had joined the fray, and the White Bull had taken two more advancing steps. A few more and it would be upon them.

His eyes desperately sought out Stede's figure: He had to protect him. But even as he turned, it was too late. Blinding pain burst along his right side, familiar: A stab wound. The bloody end of a plain, simple sword emerged from his body and he stared at it in disbelief. After everything... this is how he would go? It wasn't fair. 

There was screaming all around him - the yowling wind, the inhuman roars of the White Bull, the terrified crew - but through it all he thought he could pick out Stede's beloved voice, wailing out more piercing than the rest. A hand shoved against his back, pushing him off the sword and over the side of the ship into the roiling, surging water.

When Blackbeard fell, the world around him howled. The sea and sky seethed in foam and froth like a living creature twisting in agony. In the midst of all the chaos, a figure in teal silk and white lace dove over the side of the Revenge and plunged into the ocean. 

The fighting aboard the ship paused and the White Bull, taking another step closer, began lowering its massive storm-clouded head with its flashing green eyes, an irrevocable descent of death on the ship's inhabitants. Behind it the sky was pitch-black, stabbed through with blinding flashes of lightning. 

Frenchie, clinging to the railing of the ship with all his might, gasped and shouted, "Something's happening!"

The rest of the crew shoved past the pirates who they'd just been fighting and ran to look overboard.

The surface of the ocean next to the Revenge had stilled, a peacefulness slowly spreading out from a point that was illuminated teal, as if a lantern were alight several yards down. The light unfurled from the center, growing brighter and brighter until Stede burst from the surface, water cascading off him in waves, an unconscious Ed held in his arms. He rose into the air, propelled by a swell of water behind him, his eyes glowing a honied gold. He moved to the ship, water rushing behind him, and laid Ed onto the deck with the utmost care, his long, dark hair spreading out around his head, his leather-clad legs falling open. Stede gently stroked his face before drawing back and up. The calming of the sea behind him continued to spread out, the teal glow chasing outwards in an ever-growing circle. He turned to the White Bull and rose on a massive wave to meet it head-on, crashing into it like a wave against a sandcastle, dragging clouded parts back into the sea. The White Bull trumpeted out a furious, injured roar and lowered its head as if to charge, but another wave crested upward and hit it again, eroding the figure with wave after wave that launched the Revenge and other ship backward and away from the heat of the battle, off to the side where the sea was calm and teal and the sky brightening with blue.

Soon the Revenge slowed and the last clouds overhead dissipated. The sea settled. The wind calmed to barely a breeze.

Everyone on the Revenge stayed still and silent, again clutching each other or the ship. No one dared to move.

Then the ocean stirred. White-frothing waves started to move, slowly gaining momentum, but there was something unusual about them. The surface of the water was still except for the lacey bits that broke their shining heads above.

Buttons exhaled a shuddering breath. Everyone realized what they were a split-second before he spoke.

"Saelockes."

"God above," breathed Calico Jack, putting his hands on the railing and looking out with a wondering expression.

The saelockes were playing in the water, spinning and tumbling joyously over each other. A faint sound like music carried over the waves, as if they were singing with inhuman voices. The crew could only catch a glimpse of them here and there - clever dark or gold eyes, white fringed tresses, a pale flash of movement - but they swam too quickly to get a good look.

Then one, swimming underwater, broke away and glided swiftly toward the Revenge, a shimmering shape under the surface. Stede's head broke above water just before he reached them, his blonde hair plastered to his head. He climbed up the side of the ship and made his way to where Ed was still lying peacefully, a pool of water damp around him, but clear of blood. Dripping, Stede knelt over him and gently touched his face before leaning down and kissing him.

Ed stirred and raised a hand to grasp the one on his cheek.

Wee John gasped. 

"True Love's Kiss!" he whispered in awe as Stede slowly drew back.

"No," said Stede with a chuckle. "Just waking him up." 

Ed's eyes flickered open.

"Hello my dearest," said Stede softly, stroking Ed's cheek with his thumb. "Are you well?"

"Who, me? Pssh. Fine and dandy. Never been better," said Ed, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled up at Stede. "Glad to see you're not a bird again."

Stede huffed a laugh and leaned down for another kiss.

"Um," said the Swede, timidly raising his hand. "What the fuck happened?"

The rest of the crew echoed this sentiment, but Oluwande cut in with, "Also, we should probably do something about these guys," and gestured to the dumbstruck, flabbergasted pirates who had boarded them in the fight and were standing motionlessly, weapons dangling limply at their sides.

"What happened to their ship?" Black Pete asked, looking around.

"Over there!" said Frenchie, pointing. The waves had taken the other ship further to the south, where they were a small figure on the horizon. 

"Yes, let's see," said Stede, getting to his feet, hand-in-hand with Ed. "I suppose the dinghies are lost to the great deep.... Will your captain be sending someone to get you back?"

The pirates just looked at him, then at the saelockes still cavorting on the waves, then back again.

"I mean," Stede continued after the lack of response, "I suppose you're welcome to stay here in the brig until they do, or until they sail over here. As long as you behave yourselves. I don't really fancy putting any of my crew at risk by offering a ride in one of our dinghies... No offense, just the whole boarding-and-attacking thing, you understand." 

He looked at Ed, who was staring at him dreamily. "What do you think?"

"Hm? Eh, I don't care. Toss 'em overboard," Ed replied, looping his arms around Stede's neck and planting a kiss on his cheek.

"Say, now there's an idea!" Stede said brightly. He turned to his crew and opened his arms theatrically. "Shall we see if the saelockes still offer good luck to sailors?" 

The crew cheered and bounded over to the pirates, grabbing onto them and marching them over to the side. 

"I figured they'd like that," Stede remarked to Ed and Izzy, who had stayed back from the crowd. Calico Jack led the charge, instructing Roach, Black Pete, and Wee John to grab one of the pirates and swing him back and forth until Jack gave the word to toss him overboard with a resounding splash. 

"Glad you're not dead, Edward," Izzy said, grating like the words out between ground teeth.

Stede and Ed looked at him in surprise. 

"Yeah, mate, me too," Ed said, clapping him on the shoulder. Izzy met Stede's eye, gave the barest hint of a nod, then slinked off to watch the crew toss over another pirate from the other side of the ship with cheers.

"So!" Stede said, clapping his hands together cheerfully and beaming at Ed. "It seems our troubles are nearing their ends, wouldn't you say? White Bull gone, saelockes back in the world, bringing good fortune to sailors and pirates alike." He nodded at the sea, where the first awestruck pirate they'd tossed overboard was floating on the waves, gliding back to his ship. 

"More importantly, it gives no one a reason to go after you ," said Ed, putting a hand on Stede's hip and drawing him close. He brushed his nose against the hair above Stede's ear.

"I'd hope so," said Stede fervently, leaning into Ed. "Why go for boring old me when you could find a whole saelocke at sea?"

Ed hummed his agreement and pressed a kiss to the skin behind his ear. Stede shivered delightfully and turned into him.

"We had rather an adventurous day," he said leadingly, toying with Ed's still-damp cravat. "How would you like to get out of these damp clothes and into bed?" He raised his eyebrows.

"Can't think of anything I'd rather do more," Ed replied, and they left the crew to do cleanup work.

EPILOGUE

Two months later life at sea had changed very little for the crew of the Revenge. Word of the saelockes' return spread faster than the saelockes themselves. Soon every pirate and sailor had heard of the resurrection of mystical beings in the Caribbean. The saelockes moved out slowly, covering more of the seven seas until sailing was again like it had been hundreds of years ago, side by side divine fortune.

Stede still got unwanted attention, usually from dicks in taverns who wanted him to do something to prove he was actually a saelocke, but they left quickly enough after either a stern word (Stede) or a fist to the groin (Ed). With any luck, Ed reckoned, it wouldn't be too long before it would become a rumor, a myth; part of the Gentleman Pirate tall tales.

"I miss it sometimes, you know," Stede said softly one night. Ed's head was on his chest and Stede was combing his fingers through his hair. They'd shared a bath earlier and Ed's hair was shiny and lovely-smelling from it. So was Stede's chest, which he nuzzled deeper into.

"Hm?" Ed replied, to show he was still awake. 

For a long moment Stede said nothing else.

"Being a bird, would you believe it," he finally said. "It was so... freeing."

Ed forced his eyes open. This was the first time they'd really talked about that. 

"Imagine it must have been," he said. He waited while Stede seemed to struggle to find words to express himself.

He finally heaved a huge sigh. 

"That whole thing," he said. "That whole time, I kept thinking, 'Is this why I've always felt... weird? Odd? Wrong ? Because I'm not supposed to be what I am?'"

"What's wrong with what you are?" demanded Ed. "You're the best!"

Stede huffed and kissed the top of Ed's head. 

"You're sweet to say so," he said. "And do you know what I realized? During that whole thing, learning my history, turning into a different creature, questioning my place on the ship.... I realized that no matter what else, I always feel the best when I'm with you. Whatever else I am, I'm meant to be with you." 

Ed propped himself up, throat tight. He looked into warm, bright brown eyes that some said turned burning gold once his fury was kindled. He touched the blonde hair that legend said curled like waves over water. He lifted and kissed the back of a hand that people said had reached out and yanked the dread Blackbeard himself out of his watery grave, glowing and healing his wounds like the sea heals the body.

Those same people would later say that the magic of the saelocke must be very strong indeed, since the pirate of all pirates, the infamous and eminent Blackbeard, who commanded fear across the seven seas, was never seen without the Gentleman Pirate at his side.