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It’s summer late at night in the galley and keeping humidity at bay is the name of the game. Stede finds Roach airing the room and polishing all wooden surfaces in a brave attempt to ward off mold for as long as possible.
“Ready to go over the next fortnight's meals?”
“Sure, Cap’n,” the man answers decidedly, without any apparent intention to stop his scrubbing.
Stede can barely make out Roach’s head behind the piles of clean saucepans, casseroles, and a dozen columns of bowls along the countertop. So many bowls!
“One can never have too many bowls, Captain.” Roach eyes glint. “I’ll let you in on a secret … All the utensils over there?” Roach points to the cooking utensils drying in their places along the rack. “They save time, sure. But if it comes to it, you can do everything in the kitchen with one good bowl.”
“Seriously?” Stede cannot reign in his skepticism. “One bowl?”
Roach scratches the rat tails at his chin.
“Well, maybe add a knife. One bowl and one knife,” Roach concedes. “Absolutely.”
Stede decides to venture inside the galley—might as well drag a chair along.
“Roach please, surely you’re using all utensils provided? There’s really no need—”
Stede reels back when he finds one Edward Teach—a significant man of infamous and ill repute—sitting on the floor and leaning back against a burlap sack of salt.
“What— Ed?” Startled, Stede addresses the dreaded pirate, expecting an answer. Upon closer inspection however, Ed only smacks his lips and leans further back into the sack.
“What is happening?” Stede blinks rapidly. “Why is he here?”
Roach shrugs.
“He came to ask about how much fish we can salt for later, for some kind of fancy trout we might bump into.”
“And he fell asleep?” Stede becomes properly dismayed.
“Yeah, we were talking about fish and he just nodded off. He seemed exhausted.”
Yes, well, that Stede can understand. Edward Teach is a tornado of activity, up at all hours really, not only preparing for the next raid, mentoring the crew and hanging out with Stede but also reviewing charts late at night with Izzy and preparing routes and schedules for other vessels in his fleet to offload when they come to port next.
Is that what has happened? Did the man become so exhausted he passed out on the floor?
Stede crouches down to Ed’s eye level and taps his shoulder gently.
“Ed. Edward,” Stede pleads. “This is no place for you to sleep. Let’s take you to a proper bed.”
A little smile tugs at Ed’s lips and his eyes open slowly. A few beats and the fearsome pirate stretches and starts babbling quite rapidly.
“Oh, hey, Stede, mate. Mmm, that was a good shut eye. Very refreshing. What time is it? Yeah. Better get going.”
Then, quite abruptly, Ed stands and walks out, without waiting to be told the time even. How odd!
Stede can only stare in the direction Ed left. What had that been about?
~~~~~
It is a Saturday with lovely clear skies and plenty of light until late. Stede is reading out loud to the crew for longer than usual tonight. Eventually, Stede wishes goodnight to the crew on deck and readies himself to turn in for the night.
There is a shape that catches his attention however, half hidden where it is in the darkness, lying towards the top of the quarterdeck stairs.
Stede bites his lip and regretfully discovers Ed lying asleep on his side on the floor along the railing. The man is wearing a peaceful enough expression as his chest falls and rises with the rocking of the boat and the movement of the waves. Finding him slumbering like this however, without a pillow, a blanket or any comfort whatsoever makes the back of Stede’s eyes sting with concern.
Stede hurries towards the deck to fetch Lucius.
“What is it? Wait, why is he here?”
“I don’t know!” Stede’s voice sounds upset even to his own ears — well, at least he’s not tearing up anymore.
Lucius's hair might be ruffled with sleep but the boy’s eyes sharpen quickly enough.
“He must have been listening to the story here before falling asleep.“
“It doesn’t matter!” Though Stede takes note of it. “We need to do something.”
“I’m pretty sure Buttons is doing his intimate ritual later. Do we want Blackbeard to wake up to that?”
Lucius’s particular voice inflection makes Stede both picture and dread the ghastly repercussions of that occurring.
“The guest quarters are too far — help me take him to my cabin.”
Stede moves towards Ed’s shoulders and points Lucius to take the man’s feet. Lucius seems to reconsider, however.
“I don’t think he will appreciate being moved like this… Better to risk indecent exposure?”
Stede thinks about the available options. The moonlight cuts stripes of light through the sails, draping over the exhausted sprawl of Ed and Lucius’s face. The rocking of the boat and the movement of the waves lulls Stede momentarily, make him feel the tiredness in his own body, and make him long—madly, just for a moment—for the full embrace of sleep to take them so that they too could lie and sleep there on deck, without a care in the world.
“Oh, it’s not only that,” Stede confesses.
Stede looks down at Edward, a man known to be dangerous but capable of incredible gentleness. Ed is the unexpected friend Stede had been missing his entire life and it pains him to see his friend so indifferent towards his own comfort
“I want him to have a good, proper sleep,” Stede whispers, and moves an errant piece of hair out of Ed’s mouth.
Lucius can only shake his head in answer.
“Well, have you tried telling him he’s welcome in the main cabin?”
“I extended invitations several times already but he won’t come in.”
“Are you sure you invited him correctly?”
“Of course I did!” Stede replies. “What does it matter? He’s not a vampire!”
Lucius can only shrug in reply.
Ed’s shoulders begin to stir, bumping against Stede’s knees.
“Oh no, it happened again, didn’t it?” Ed sits up, looking flustered and pulling his hair back.
“Ed— “ Stede reaches for him but Ed's extended palm stops him.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t be here like this. I’ll get out of the way.”
Ed springs to his feet and leaves immediately. Stede is left startled and bereft at the abrupt exit.
Lucius seems equally surprised, “He apologized? Why did he apologize?”
Stede cannot answer. Should he go after Ed? But Ed might prefer to be left alone. Was he alright? What a horrible, helpless feeling!
Ed had seemed miserable and Stede can only surmise he’s upset him somehow. This is so unlike him! Pangs of unease curl in Stede’s neck and shoulders and a frightening thought springs in his mind. Could it be that Ed had been embarrassed? Had Ed just fled from him?
“Hey, are you alright?” Lucius asks and Stede nods after he is pulled to his feet.
The thought is heartbreaking. Stede curls in on himself that night, persistent contrition aching in his chest. He has overstepped and made things worse. He decides to give Ed some space so as to not disturb his sleep or upset him further. It might be for the best.
~~~~~
It is during one long and restless night that stretches longer than usual, that Stede rises for the third time before dawn and instead of attempting to resume sleep, he rises and putters about.
Submerged in the almost silence, Stede sits still on the chaise lounge for a handful of minutes. Quite suddenly, a curious playful mood strikes him.
It is in this burst of spontaneity that Stede drags the top duvet down to the floor. The sleep deprivation must be getting to him, he tells himself, self-conscious at his own midnight antics.
Stede arranges the duvets neatly on the floor, managing straight corners and lines, with pillows on the top. He yawns sleepily and lies down.
He stretches his limbs in every direction, delighted to be able to do so without confinement. It is quite refreshing! The unyielding surface of the floor is not unpleasant—not at first.
Soon enough however, his shoulders and neck begin to become an ache.
Feeling somewhat defeated, Stede sighs and climbs back into bed as the sky outside his window turns a lovely dark purple and pink.
~~~~~
Days later, Stede rises early to take over the morning watch at the helm. Instead, he comes out onto the deck to experience rising bewilderment and the start of a painful neck crick as he stares impossibly upward.
Stede comes to stand next to Oluwande at the bottom of the mizzenmast, unable to tear his eyes away from the top platform above.
“Oh My God. Don’t just stare at the man! Do something!”
Oluwande eyes crinkle as he smiles. “Do you want Jim to wake him?”
“No, don’t be ridiculous!!” Oluwande doesn’t seem to grasp the situation so it falls to him—the Gentleman Pirate—to once again provide direction. “Better have Jim secure him with rope.”
Stede looks past Oluwande’s raised eyebrows and calls out for Jim.
Jim climbs up to the mast expertly with light and quick movement, taking plenty of rope up with them.
From straight below, all that Stede and Olu can see are a couple of limbs poking out of the mizzentop. Ed seems to have rolled during his sleep, one of his calves curling mid air out of the box, the edge of another boot peeking out.
“Well?” Stede calls out to Jim.
“I got some rope high up around his groin,” Jim cuts a palm down their thigh to demonstrate. “It’s secure.”
Stede frowns and shouts back. “Could you fasten the other leg too?”
“No way. You come here and do it yourself!”
What? No, Stede couldn’t do it himself, obviously. Didn’t they understand that Stede would only manage to wake the man up? That Edward didn’t get enough rest as it was?
“Do it!” But Jim didn’t seem to be moving and the sun was getting in Stede's eyes a bit.
“Double rum rations for a week, both of you?” That seemed to do it.
“Great job Jim! Thank you.”
Stede only hears Izzy’s dark chuckle when it’s next to his ear, or well, more like a little below his ear, to be perfectly accurate. Quite the sneaky fellow!
“Blackbeard always wakes up right in time, he’s in no danger at all. This is how real professionals keep sharp.”
Stede turns and swats Izzy away with his hand, managing to ruffle the man’s hair a bit. Good.
“Oh really? And how do you sleep Izzy? I’ve heard you’ve got nice sleeping quarters.”
About an hour later or so an endless stream of angry cursing erupts from the top sail, from a man waking up to find his groin and both arms inexplicably tied up to the mast mid air.
~~~~~
Fall starts and with that comes the excitement of making plans for the next couple of seasons. Stede has a mind full of ideas for exploits and adventures for next year.
Stede’s planning needs referencing and so, once again, he has too many books lying open and strewn about everywhere in his cabin. This is a bad habit of his that Edward is not helping curtail with his boundless curiosity, asking Stede to discuss the contents of the books with him. There was no shortage of crosshatched illustrations and descriptions of settlements, foodstuffs, plants, insects and animals that they could pour over.
The issue has always been that Stede cannot take all the books he wants with him to bed. Now that he is a pirate he is afforded new options, however.
And so Lucius walks in to find Stede sitting against the bed nook on the floor surrounded by pillows, cushions and piles of books.
“What?” Stede asks, deeply annoyed, lifting his bestacled eyes from the current volume.
Lucius is wearing a ludicrously fond smile, as if he were a doting grandmother and not a twenty-something meddlesome runaway with uniform penmanship.
The young man bursts out laughing.
“Nothing — it’s really nothing. I didn’t say anything.”
~~~~~
“Now, this is just completely daft! He has to be doing it on purpose!”
Frenchie has brought Stede to the canon ballroom, where Ed is lying face up with his torso angled to the left, on top of the cannon balls themselves. It had all the signs of a fuckery, Stede thought, and surely Frenchie was in on it. He imagined Ed would rise at any moment and have a laugh at the disbelief written on his face.
Stede sighs.
Truthfully, Stede would much prefer the scene before him to be a prank and not another bout of exhaustion catching up with Ed. He has an inkling, however, that Ed can only manage to twist his body into such preposterous contortions unintentionally.
Stede flusters at the thought that such knowledge is now in his possession.
“I don’t think so Captain … Wee John spotted him a couple of hours earlier. It’s been several hours since then, which is why I went to find you.”
Stede breathes deeply — a couple of canon balls near the bottom of the pile roll away and perhaps there is a sharp inhalation coming from the slumbering man.
He begins, “Well, Frenchie, he is our most distinguished guest and we have come to understand that this is something he does. What is exactly the concern here?”
Frenchie moves his head frantically and makes a handful of aborted noises before speaking.
“But that thing covering his eyes? What’s that? It has to be new. Wee John didn’t see it earlier. You don’t want him to wake up and find that he has that in his eyes.”
Oh, yes — Ed, the absolute maniac, is currently wearing one of Stede’s velvet sleeping masks on his face.
Stede had dearly hoped that they could overlook that detail —it is baffling to look at and his nerves cannot take it. No such luck today then. He collects himself by taking a deep breath and closing his eyes for a moment.
“You’re trying to say, Frenchie,” Stede says with increasing disbelief , “that after sleeping here earlier today, he went to retrieve a sleeping mask only to return here once more to continue napping?”
“Oh, is that what that is? I thought it was something different…Captain?”
“That is … interesting,” Stede presses his fingers to his eyes, mildly exasperated.
This is what Ed is like, Stede repeats to himself, this is his preference. Incomprehensible, perhaps, but his preference nonetheless.
Perhaps this frantic rhythm of overwork had helped in some way in his youth, but could he see that it was now unnecessary?
If only Ed could slow down and let his body rest from time to time, but alas, Stede was coming to realize that some things were not meant to be.
Stede turns Frenchie around by the shoulder and slowly leads him away.
“Look, Frenchie,” Stede starts, “Ed is our guest and Blackbeard, well, he is a very mysterious man and he likes to do whatever he likes best, and if that’s staying up long hours and falling asleep wherever I’m sure he has his reasons.”
Behind them, a fond smile spreads helplessly across the face of a knuckleheaded, sleep deprived leather-clad pirate.
~~~~~
It’s after midnight when Stede is woken up by someone stumbling inside his cabin, a large waning moon outside his window. He gathers the belt of his robe and steps into the middle of the room.
Stede finds Ed lying on the floor, legs up and calves curled against the seat of an armchair. Stede watches for a moment and smiles because his friend has removed his boots and placed a towel on the armchair seat.
Mindful of disturbing his sleeping co-captain, Stede lights a nearby lantern and brings over a couple of pillows and blankets in different weights and places them next to Ed, for the man to find if he needs them. The deep rasp of Ed’s voice startles him.
“You hang around sometimes, eh?”
“Do you mind?”
What little lantern light there is pours over Ed, his face transformed and pliant with sleep. His frowning eyes open and close in turn, heavy and exhausted.
“I don’t like you seeing me make an ass of myself,” Ed mumbles.
Stede presses a cotton quilt against him and Ed takes it, spreads it carelessly over his side. Stede hopes his co-captain will nod off again and is instead surprised when Ed turns to him with a gaze so urgent and contrite that it makes Stede’s heart tremble.
“I woke you up, didn’t I? I’m sorry, mate.”
The light of the lantern highlights the kindness in Ed’s large, brown eyes and Stede is unable to look away from them. “You did not,” Stede insists.
Ed is being ridiculous — they both are. It is inexplicable that Ed could be so full of misplaced concern for Stede when he is the one so obviously sleep deprived. The likely meaning behind the absurdity of it hits Stede like a slap in the face.
“You’re lying,” Ed smiles a kind, indulgent smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling, suggesting a shared secret that Stede can barely acknowledge.
At times, Stede finds the affinity between them utterly disquieting. Ed is, after all, a larger than life figure that has lived in Stede’s mind for a long time. And Stede is just — well, himself, a man lacking in most things and until recently leading an unremarkable life.
Stede’s self confidence has vastly improved since he set out to sea and yet he still finds it incredible that Ed enjoys his company in return, as thoroughly as he seems to do. These last couple of months he’s been walking on a cloud, constantly feeling like he ought to pinch himself awake.
Tonight, however, in the quiet of the night a delighted and peaceful warmth spreads on Stede’s chest. He can acknowledge that the warmth in Ed’s eyes mirrors the wonder Stede himself feels, to have met the other man and have him as friend.
“Here, let’s take off your jacket,” Stede says.
Ed sits up just enough for Stede to pull the leather jacket out from behind him. Freed from the constraint, Ed yawns and stretches his bare arms, grabs a pillow and pulls it under his head. He looks at Stede calmly, with eyes careful and more awake.
“It’s nice here, you know. You should join me.”
Stede’s heart stutters. The moment has turned into something warm and playful — flirtatious, his mind provides. Thankfully, these charged little exchanges occur often enough that they no longer turn Stede into an anxious, chattering mess.
The warmth in Stede’s chest squeezes and has him quietly answer, “It sure seems that way — I should try it myself sometime.” Oh Lord, his vision wavers momentarily. But if his nerves are showing, Ed does not care to mention it.
Ed quirks an eyebrow, play-acting at seduction but then laughing instead, “Are you suggesting something, mate?”
Stede finds himself laughing in return, perhaps a tad anxiously.
“Hey, hey,” Ed calls, gently, and reaches for Stede’s forearm. “It’s just sleeping next to each other, mate. Whatever you want.”
Ed seems to be saying, No pressure, really. This is safe.
Oddly enough, Stede’s thoughts anchor and still around the weight of Ed’s hand on his arm. Some heartbeats later and Stede’s self-consciousness becomes both more obvious and less important, his breathing easier. The moment lingers and Stede thinks, wildly, that maybe this is not something he can ruin.
Stede bites his lip, “Would that be alright? Sleeping next to you?”
“Sure, come here,” Ed says while making a silly face and extending his arms.
It's so easy. It shouldn’t be so easy to go into Ed’s arms and embrace him, plainly and affectionately, as if they were schoolboys, for no other reason that he wants to. Ed’s beard brushes Stede’s jaw and he smells of leather, soap and tobacco. Nothing had ever been easy, so how can it be so easy for Stede to close his eyes and hold Ed in his arms.
What is this?
And because Ed’s madness is contagious, Stede supposes, he leans in and kisses Ed softly on the side of his face.
“Aww, you are so good to me, mate.” Ed shudders and lifts his fingers to Stede’s jaw, kissing his face in return.
“Now, stop that, or else,” Ed mumbles threateningly, the intended effect ruined as he all but plasters himself to Stede’s side and nuzzles his shoulder.
Stede laughs, overjoyed, his chest expanding larger and larger with affection. He attempts to sit up carefully but no matter, Ed’s shoulders fall with a thud to the floor and the man grumbles unhappily. Stede fixes the quilt over them both and drags a pillow over for himself. Ed yawns and pulls his legs down under the armchair, his feet knocking against Stede’s, wool socks rubbing together.
Stede yawns at ease and wonders what would it take for Ed to lean on him again. Could he place an arm around him? And when Ed starts shifting, restlessly, moving closer to him, Stede realizes they are again of the same mind.
“Ed… Would you… ?” Stede starts and Ed breathes out at once, “Yeah, sure.”
Ed turns his body around, scooting back slightly. How does that happen, Stede wonders, when they finish each other's sentences like that, as if their hearts had tin cans on each end and were connected with a string. Stede reaches and pulls Ed safe and warm into his arms, for both of their sakes. Ed melts against him and Stede’s insides light with contentment.
In the early dawn at sea, inside the ship he designed from a dream, Stede lies with Ed nestled in his arms. He is delighted at his good fortune because they have managed to stumble their way into this and he can burrow his face in between Ed’s shoulders, feel Ed’s chest and stomach expand with his breathing, touch his arms.
A small voice in his head says, It’s strange, it’s inappropriate. Stede tells it, Shh, go away.
Tonight they can rest easy, already their bodies relaxed and halfway to slumber, the waking world slipping away. The blissful heaviness pressing Stede body so much the better with him knowing that Ed’s sleep will be well guarded here in the main cabin.
The embrace has made Stede hopeful. No matter that tomorrow awaits, that the morning might find them dislodged, limbs askew and scattered, with whatever spell had brought Ed into his cabin gone, Stede is heartened and presses his cheek against Ed’s shoulders for good measure. It won’t matter at all because this closeness has already changed him irrevocably — to think that a person could go an entire life without knowing such tenderness was illuminating and heartbreaking; it filled him with compassion for Edward, who had shared this with him, for himself, the person he had been, and others like himself, who might not know.
Stede would remember this night fondly for the rest of his life.
Ed squeezes his hand, “I’ll try the bed next time, I swear. I want my own nightcap.” Stede kisses his shoulder and smiles.