Chapter Text
Ed —no, the Kraken— sat silently at the foot of Izzy’s bed. He had made sure not to make any noise coming in, lest the always vigilant Izzy wake.
Izzy. Despite having had him as his right-hand man for so long, he’d begun to feel like a thorn in his side as of late. A thorn that needed to be taught a lesson. Or at least a vessel to reflect back all of the pain and grief of Stede leaving him.
Was Stede even alive right now? Was he taken? ‘No,’ he had thought during his long solo boat ride back to his crew. ‘He probably just realized he could never have made a life with me. Everyone leaves me eventually. I am not a person worthy of other’s good intentions.’
His hazy mind once again focuses on the sleeping Izzy ahead. But instead of anger, he is suddenly awash with a resentful numbness. The knife drops to the floor.
Izzy awakens with a start.
“Fawking Hell, Cap’n! What’re you doing in my chambers?”
Blackbeard stares at Izzy’s suddenly alert face. Izzy stares at the knife on the floor.
“Wha-“
Blackbeard hurries out of the room without a word, slamming the door behind him.
A new destination is in order.
————————————————————
By morning the crew had arrived at the Republic of Pirates. While Blackbeard wasn’t especially fond of the place, it was the nearest location with decent rum.
As the rest of the crew got off the ship (aside from Lucius and Pete, who insisted on “looking after their valuables”), Blackbeard couldn’t help but wrinkle his face in disdain. Who were they to be so blissful when he had just lost the only chance he ever had of living a happy life?
Yeah, he needs a drink. Fast.
“Here, mates, go get some new knives or chompers or whatever y’all need.” He hands each of them a decent sum of money he’d saved from raiding another ship a while back.
Frenchie and Wee John practically lick the money with how close their faces are to it, staring at it like it’s a new puppy.
“Holy—“
Blackbeard makes a swift heel-turn and starts heading to the bar. He can feel Izzy eyeing him so he turns back around, gives him a piercing glare, and Izzy stops moving towards him. No matter how stubborn Izzy is, he seems to understand that he needs to be alone. Seems to.
-————————————————————-
The tavern looks just as he remembered it. It’s the early afternoon, so the place is all but empty, save a few regulars and drunkards probably still there from the night before. Good. No one needs to see the legendary Blackbeard in such a sorry state. The bar was devoid of any open windows, and any potential sources of light were smothered by ink black curtains. The bar was bathed purely in the light of several oil lamps.
He sits down at the counter. The usual barkeep isn’t there. He overheard Jim saying he died pretty recently (with an obvious smirk). No doubt they killed him. To be fair, though, he did have it coming.
Instead, the barkeep was a beautiful man with soft features, dark black hair, piercing hazel eyes, and caramel skin with an ice cold undertone. Likely newly hired. He grinned at Blackbeard, revealing two abnormally sharp incisors. Quite the fancy set of dentures, he assumes. It’s not uncommon for Pirates to replace their teeth with hobbled together dentures that act more as weapons than they do actual teeth. However, this set was uncharacteristically realistic. The shape was perfect, and the teeth were a glistening pearly white. The barkeep clearing his throat rather loudly took Blackbeard out of his stupor.
“Drink. Now”, Blackbeard groaned.
The barkeep had the drink ready at breakneck speed. And when he lifted it to his lips, by god it was the finest rum he had ever tasted. Almost sickly sweet in its signature alcoholic burn. Considering he drank his tea with a ghastly 7 sugar cubes….it was a welcome surprise.
“Hey, mate”, he said, putting on his best ‘the love of my life didn’t just leave me for a wife he didn’t even like’ face. “What’s in this? It’s really fuckin’ good!”
The barkeep spoke for the first time since Blackbeard entered the bar.
“Secret ingredient”, he said with a sweet, gooey honey in his voice that Blackbeard couldn’t help but be entranced by.
——————————————————-
By the time Blackbeard had finished drowning his sorrows in “Secret Ingredient” rum, the counter in front of him was home to far more empty glasses than he’d care to admit. His mind had been sufficiently numbed by a thick coating of alcohol. It was also nighttime now, he thought. Not that he’d be able to tell with the egregious lack of natural light in the bar. The crew would likely be back at the ship by now. He’d better get going.
“I-I’ve gotta get back” he slurred under his breath in a way that would make one uncertain as to whether he intended to say it out loud.
“I’ll walk you back”, the barkeep told him. “‘Tis the least I can do after giving you all that. Jackie can keep those boozehounds occupied.”
Blackbeard, not finding any reason to refuse, nodded. The man took Blackbeard’s arm and placed it on his shoulder for support, and they headed out of the bar.
Blackbeard was right. It was night now, and the moon already hung high in the sky. His handsome savior seemed almost in his element out here, like the pub was a tomb he resigned to each day. As they walked along, Blackbeard could feel his limbs turn heavy every few steps, which the barkeep responded to by further propping him up. He may have looked lean at first glance, but this barkeep clearly had plenty of hidden strength. As they neared the docks, Blackbeard began to feel ill. Deathly ill. The rum was catching up with him and his throat. The groggily drunken Blackbeard pointed to a nearby alleyway. The man led him there, and Blackbeard immediately fell to his knees and vomited the day’s mistakes onto the already piss-ridden ground.
He instantly felt better. He got up, dusted himself off, and grabbed the hand of the not-so-surprisingly unfazed barkeep. The man elegantly hoisted him up, and Blackbeard swooned a little from how quickly it happened.
As Blackbeard’s eyes began to refocus, he finally saw the man in all his beauty. Those Hazel eyes he had seen earlier now revealed hidden specks of gold and silver. And they were deep. So deep. Like the man had seen far more than any man his age should have. And as he got lost deeper and deeper in his eyes, he felt a heavy weight on his own eyes.
And then they were gone. The man hadn’t moved. He just disappeared. And no sooner than he realized this did he feel a sharp pain in his neck and delicate hands cupping his cheeks. Blackbeard dropped to his knees from the pain (and pleasure?) of that strange sensation at his neck. Then the hands pulled away, and a rather unusually frazzled barkeep stood before him. Drenched in blood.
“Oh dear god! Oh dear”, the barkeep said, looking Blackbeard up and down frantically. He knelt down to Blackbeard and once again held his cheeks. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, I swear”
Ed could hear the man continue talking, but he was fading fast. His eyes grew even heavier than before. The last thing he saw was a panicked barkeep bring a sharp chunk of glass to his wrist. The last thing he felt was the sweet taste of rum …..and the sickening flavor of earthy copper.