Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It occurs to Stede, halfway to the shore, that he shouldn’t leave Ed waiting back in the trees. 

That he’s left Ed waiting long enough.

That he never wants to leave Ed waiting again. 

He stops his headlong rush in the general direction of where he thinks his dinghy is and listens to the sounds of the forest. Leaves rustle, something small moves on the ground, a seagull calls - odd to hear at night, but maybe startled by an owl or a bat. He thinks he can even hear the fire at Anne and Mary’s shop, but that might just be his imagination. 

Tonight he’s not looking up at the moon in the hope Ed’s looking at it too; he knows where Ed is, and he’s told Ed he loves everything about him, and he can walk back through these trees and see Ed’s beloved face in a matter of minutes. 

Stede looks down at his shirt. He’d meant to launder it before he saw Ed, but, well. Events had rather overtaken him, and he’d had on the uniform from Zheng’s ship when they’d first seen each other, and then there hadn’t really been time to do much more than change back into his clothing from the Republic of Pirates and start managing the crew. He runs his hands down the rough fabric and wishes he could have reunited with Ed in something befitting his love. Then again, the first time they met, he’d been gut-stabbed, bleeding out all over his white suit, and Ed had kept vigil over him all night.

Stede doesn’t mind if Ed is never ready to say I love you aloud, because Stede knows Ed loves him. The depth of Ed’s love - Ed’s love for him , for Stede Bonnet, what an incredible thing! - takes him out at the knees. He saw it in Ed’s eyes when he’d woken up, saw it in his eyes at Anne and Mary’s house, and again when Stede asked him to come back to the Revenge.  

Speaking of, he wants Ed to feel equally as loved (because he is). 

Stede turns and runs back up the hill. 

Ed’s standing by the tree right where Stede left him, looking up at the sky. Stede can’t see his face, just the silver fall of his hair across his shoulders. His chest tightens with adoration. He takes a deep breath and calls, ‘Ed? Hey, um, can you come with? It’s getting a bit dark and I can’t actually - I can’t find my way back to the ship.’

Ed looks for him, spots him through the trees, and says, ‘Oh, yeah.’ He pushes his hair back from his face, then smiles bright enough that Stede sees his teeth in the dark. ‘Coming.’ 

Stede watches him charge down the hill, an excited look on his face, as he says, ‘Hey, Buttons turned into a seagull!’

Stede blinks. ‘What?’

‘Yeah!’ Ed points wildly to the sky behind him. ‘He flew off!’

The joy inside of Stede feels so big that he wants to shout about it. Ed’s here and they’re walking through the night forest together. Stede remembers Buttons calling the sea his love as they rowed out to Zheng’s ship, how hearing the depth of love that he feels for Ed echoed in Buttons’ voice had moved him almost to tears. 

‘I kept saying to him, I didn’t think it was possible,’ Ed says. His voice echoes the wild joy Stede feels. Stede wants to grab him with both hands, tell him he loves him through desperate kisses, but he also understands (now, and what an idiot he’s been) that he needs to treat Ed with the gentlest care, so instead he peppers Ed with further questions (‘What did he use the bowl for?’ ‘And the incense, really?’ ‘He said what ?’) until they burst through the trees onto the beach. 

The dinghy Stede and Buttons had taken earlier in the day is staked into the sand; Stede assumes the crew retrieved Ed’s dinghy hours earlier. Ed slows as soon as they see it. 

‘They don’t want to see me again,’ he says quietly. 

‘You did some bad things,’ Stede says, because he thinks it’s important to be honest, ‘but I don’t think that means they don’t want to see you again.’ Ed looks at him, big-eyed in the moonlight. ‘Let me talk to them,’ Stede says. ‘Please.’ 

Ed swallows. ‘Should I stay here, or…?’

Stede shakes his head. He’s got a plan, not to mention the whole never letting Ed wait again . ‘You come out to the ship with me. It’s late and I bet most of the crew is asleep. You head to our cabin and I’ll go speak with whoever’s on watch and hopefully they’ll be a yea vote I can sway.’

Ed looks lost. ‘A yea vote?’

‘In the banishment. It was a tie, almost.’ Stede watches Ed’s face take in that information; from the surprise he sees there, he wonders if Ed had thought it was unanimous, which is heartbreaking. He carries on, trying to be as reassuring as possible, ‘So swaying one yea voter will make you, uh, unbanished.’

Ed looks down at the ground and mumbles, ‘Don’t want you putting your reputation on the line for me, mate.’

‘Nonsense,’ Stede says firmly. ‘C’mon. You know, they tried to mutiny on me once.’

Ed looks back up at him, a little smile on his face. ‘What did you do?’ Stede remembers the hot spike of shame he’d felt when Buttons had told him, They think you’re craven, ill-equipped to lead men. And Ed must catch that on his face, because he says, quickly, ‘Doesn’t matter.’ 

‘I wasn’t quite what they expected,’ Stede says carefully, ‘in a pirate captain. And… they thought I wasn’t, uh, mentally prepared for the job.’

‘They were wrong,’ Ed says. He looks off to the side. ‘You’re a better captain than I’ve been, I’ll tell you that.’

‘C’mon, Ed,’ Stede says gently, sensing Ed’s about to spiral. ‘We can worry about that in the morning. Let’s get back to the ship for the night.’ 

‘Well, let me row,’ Ed says. 

‘Absolutely not. You - Ed - you’ve been through a lot!’ 

‘M’not an invalid.’ 

‘I’m rowing.’ 

Ed sulks his way into the dinghy and Stede rows them away from shore. Ed’s looking off to the side, into the dark water, and Stede can’t help watching him. He looks on the verge of tears. Stede wants to throw aside the oars and crawl forward until he can wrap his arms around Ed’s legs, but he reminds himself: gentle , for Ed’s sake.  

They pull alongside the Revenge and Stede lets the oars slide back into the oarlocks.

‘Wait, Stede,’ Ed hisses. 

‘Yes, love?’

Ed sucks in air between his teeth. Stede realises what he’s said about one second too late but decides not to apologise, because, well, he did just tell Ed he loves everything about him. Why hide it? After a moment, Ed swallows and says, ‘Will you just see if - if there’s anyone on deck?’ Stede can feel him hesitating, so he waits until Ed looks quickly at him and adds, ‘I don’t want to see anyone.’

‘Oh yeah, of course,’ Stede says, fully understanding. ‘Be right back.’ He stands and the dinghy sways; he sees Ed’s hand come up as if to steady him, so he grabs it and squeezes it quickly before forcing himself to let go. As he hauls himself up the ladder his palm burns like he’d grabbed lightning. 

He looks quickly around the deserted deck, then leans back over the railing. Ed is looking out over the water again. 

He whispers, ‘Ed!’

Ed looks up instantly, eyes shining in the moonlight. ‘Yeah?’

‘All clear.’

Ed secures the dinghy to the side of the Revenge and climbs up the ladder. He does not accept Stede’s outstretched hand at the railing, muttering, ‘Can get aboard just fine,’ as he swings his leg over in a motion Stede can tell is stiff. 

‘I’ll see you in the cabin in a minute,’ Stede says, then turns and dashes up to the wheel to see who’s on watch. 

Frenchie is at the wheel. Excellent; he’d been one of the ‘yea’ votes, so Stede just has to sway him to undo the whole thing. 

‘Now, Captain,’ Frenchie says, and Stede knows instantly that he’d seen everything, ‘was that Blackbeard’s ghost? Because I don’t think you’d ignore a banishing.’

‘Frenchie,’ Stede starts, trying to be reasonable, ‘I was hoping, uh, we could revisit the question of the banishing. The vote was, after all, nearly a tie.’

Frenchie raises his eyebrows.

‘And we’re quite good at forgiveness on this ship, aren’t we?’ Stede adds. ‘I mean, I heard that you were going to mutiny against Izzy? And I see he’s now in good standing with the crew.’ He winces. ‘No pun intended.’

Frenchie’s eyebrows go up even more. ‘No pun taken about such a serious matter, Captain,’ he says. ‘But, I would say that when it’s the captain that’s bad, then mutiny and banishment are appropriate responses.’ 

‘Well,’ Stede says quickly, ‘Ed’s not captain any more, is he? I am.’

‘Weren’t you two sort of co-captains?’ 

‘Well, as I said during our meeting after Calico Jack left, it was never official,’ Stede points out. He doesn’t mention that he wishes they were co-captains still, or that he hopes they will be someday again. ‘But anyway, would that make you feel better? If I assured you that he’s not the captain anymore?’

‘Captain,’ Frenchie says gently, ‘you know you can just ask me to let him stay on for you, right?’

That thought had not occurred to Stede at all. He blinks. ‘Would that, uh, would that sway you?’

Frenchie cocks his head. ‘Now I’m not saying this to gossip, but my understanding of the situation was that you broke his heart. For example, he shot Izzy just for bringing up your name. But it seems like that was all a mistake?’

‘Yes,’ Stede says quickly. ‘A bad mistake on my part. And I’m sorry for what it led to. For all of the crew.’

Frenchie nods. ‘Well, far be it from me to give you advice on your love life, Captain, but are you planning to make a similar mistake again?’

‘No I am not,’ Stede says. ‘I am actively trying to - well, I can’t go back in time and undo it, but I am trying to make amends. With the crew and with Ed.’ He pauses, then realises that Frenchie hasn’t been hearing him say it for months on end like some other members of the crew, so he explains, ‘Ed’s the love of my life.’

Frenchie drums his fingers on the wheel. ‘Yeah,’ he says, not seeming surprised at all. Stede watches him, waiting. ‘Far be it from me to keep star-crossed lovers apart. I can’t be inviting that kind of karma into my life.’ 

‘That’s a “nay” on the banishment, then?’ Stede asks, heart soaring. 

Frenchie hesitates. ‘He’s got to make amends, Captain.’

‘Absolutely, yes,’ Stede says. He knows Ed will. ‘But -’

Frenchie waves his hand. ‘Then that’s a nay.’

Stede practically levitates away from Frenchie. He detours to the galley to collect some bread and cheese on a tray - the rabbit hadn’t been particularly filling, and neither of them had finished their plates - and searches in vain for a bottle of anything at all besides rum that might make a nice nightcap. He hopes Ed’s got something he plundered waiting for them in their cabin. 

Stede holds his love in his chest like a candle in the dark as he carries the tray up the stairs, across the deck, and to the cabin. He pushes through the broken latch on the outer door and finds the inner door partially open, as if in invitation. 

Ed has started a fire in the grate. He’s standing in front of it, hands out, but he turns when Stede enters. 

‘What did they say?’

‘You’re good to stay.’ Ed turns back to the fire quickly and Stede both hears and sees him draw in a shaky breath. ‘As long as you want, actually,’ he adds. ‘So long as you make amends.’

‘Amends,’ Ed snorts, and Stede can tell that he means for it to come out as a sneer but it’s too nasal to be convincing. He loves Ed so much he feels like his chest is going to fracture with it. ‘No idea how to do that, mate.’

‘We can worry about it later,’ Stede says gently. ‘Are you cold? Or hungry?’ he asks, placing the tray on top of a wooden crate that’s slightly off-kilter due to several pearl necklaces spilling out of it. He’d noticed that Ed is wearing a lovely necklace of a similar style.  

Ed had been wearing the cravat Stede gave him when Stede saw his body in the hold, but after Ed had awoken and Stede had gone to speak with the crew, it had disappeared.

Stede’s doing his best not to think about what that means.

Ed’s watching him the same way he had in the forest after they left Mary and Anne’s house, wide-eyed and with a lost look on his face. ‘You brought food?’ he asks. 

‘Roach restocked while we were out,’ Stede says. He spreads his hands in front of the tray and smiles at Ed like a restaurateur displaying his wares. ‘A delicious looking loaf of bread here, and some hard cheese.’ 

Ed smiles; Stede gets the impression that it’s very much in spite of his mood. ‘Yeah, I’ll take some of that,’ he mutters. ‘Mind if I, uh, sit in front of the fire here?’ Ed hesitates, then adds, ‘I’ve been cold since. Since, uh.’

Stede really can’t think about that. He grabs the tray and hands it to Ed - who looks startled, but takes it - then carries one of the two chairs to the grate. Ed makes a move to help but Stede waves him off and carries the second, trying not to further damage the parquet floor by dragging it, even though it is very heavy. 

‘Shit,’ Ed says, ‘I think I stashed some coins in the bottom of that one.’

‘Oh,’ Stede says, hoping his lower back survives. ‘Well. That explains the jingling.’ He looks at Ed, who hasn’t moved since he handed him the tray. ‘Why don’t you sit?’ he suggests. ‘And is there a bottle of anything nice in here? I haven’t been able to find anything but cheap rum.’

Ed makes a little huffing noise that Stede thinks is genuine-laugh-adjacent and sits, pointing towards a corner. ‘Whole crate of port over there, mate.’

‘Ooh,’ Stede says, and retrieves a bottle. ‘Oh, yes, this is a nice vintage,’ he enthuses, bringing it back to sit beside Ed in front of the fire. 

‘No little glasses for it,’ Ed says, voice gruff. 

‘Well,’ Stede replies with as much cheer as he can - which is actually quite a lot, given the whole Ed-is-here-ness of the situation - ‘I don’t mind sharing it from the bottle if you don’t.’

There’s a very long pause from his left. Stede resists looking at Ed; he can feel how fragile the moment is and wants to give him time - but, oh god , he wants to look at Ed, wants nothing else in the world, would burn this entire ship and every piece of loot on it, even a crate of Porto’s 1705 vintage, if he could just look at Ed one moment more - and then Ed says, voice careful, ‘Don’t mind.’ He takes the bottle out of Stede’s hand and uses a knife he pulls out of his jacket to extract the cork, then offers Stede the first sip. Stede takes it and relishes the warmth down his throat.

‘I missed it so much,’ he says, meaning all of it: the Ed-and-Stede-together, the cabin, even the nightcap with plundered liquor.  

Ed shrugs. ‘Let's not talk about the beard anymore,’ he says, and his voice is careful, but Stede catches Ed’s little smile. He sees the shape of the grace Ed is offering him and he wants to grab onto it with both hands.

To steady himself, he takes another long drink of the sweet port and passes the bottle to Ed. ‘I wanted to explain something, actually,’ he says, and feels Ed tense immediately. ‘Just - just one thing. It’s important, I think.’

‘I don’t want to hear it,’ Ed says. 

Stede exhales and looks into the fire. Patience, patience. It’s never been his strong suit, but for Ed, he will try. 

Ed takes an equally long drink, then asks, ‘You sure it’s important?’

‘I think so.’

Ed sighs. Doesn’t speak for a minute. Stede bites the inside of his cheek to stop himself from saying anything. Then Ed says, ‘All right. Tell me.’

‘I didn’t go back to Mary because I loved her,’ Stede says. Beside him, he hears Ed inhale sharply. ‘I was never in love with Mary,’ he continues, because he needs Ed to know this, to know that he’s always and forever Stede’s only. ‘It wasn’t a love match; our parents arranged our marriage for financial reasons.’ He finally glances at Ed; the other man is watching the fire with his jaw clenched. ‘Sometimes arranged marriages turn into love, and maybe both of us hoped it would at some point, but, well, it never did. We both tried, in our own ways, I think. But eventually I stopped being able to try anymore.’ He pauses, trying to think how to say it, when - 

‘You were treading water,’ Ed says, very quietly. ‘Waiting to drown.’

‘Yes,’ Stede says. ‘I really did panic, Ed. It wasn’t about Mary at all.’ 

‘Thank you for telling me,’ Ed says quietly. 

Stede offers the bottle back to him. They sit in silence finishing the bread and cheese. It feels companionable, Stede thinks, so he lets it extend, watching the fire because he wants to give Ed all the time he needs, but after a few minutes he simply has to turn to his love - 

His heart twists. Ed's sound asleep in his chair, his head turned to the side so if he opened his eyes he’d be looking at Stede. His mouth is slightly open and the tray is balanced on his lap. 

Stede can’t help himself; he looks at Ed like a drowning man would look at a lifeline landing in the sea. He wants to sear what he’s seeing into the backs of his eyelids. Ed’s hair falls across one cheek, but there’s a dark, wide bruise on the other, and for a horrible moment Stede remembers Ed lying in the hold, remembers sitting beside his lifeless body and trying to convince himself to raise the cloth someone had placed over his face, terrified of what he’d see. 

Imagine if he’d lost Ed, his first and only love; imagine if he wasn't sitting beside him now, imagine if he’d never gotten to tell him the words he’s longed to say for months now - 

This line of thinking is bound to send him into full on wracking sobs, so Stede puts all his will into pulling himself together. Distracting himself - that’s the best way to do that. He thinks very hard about how Ed must be uncomfortable in that chair, and must be exhausted if he's managed to doze off in it. 

He reaches out and gives Ed's shoulder the lightest of touches. 

Ed startles, his hand flying to the knife on his belt. It hurts Stede to see how ready for danger Ed is. Ed blinks at him in clear confusion. 

Stede says, ‘You fell asleep. Why don’t you take the bed?’

Ed’s eyebrows draw together. ‘It’s your bed.’

‘You’ve had a hard past few days,’ Stede says, as gently as he can. He doesn’t want to remind Ed of any of the horrors he’s heard about from the crew. Ed makes a dismissive face, so Stede adds, ‘Ed, you almost died.’

‘Well, I think I did die, technically,’ Ed says with such carelessness that tears spring to Stede’s eyes. Ed looks stricken. ‘Stede,’ he starts, then seems to not know how to finish the sentence. 

Stede waves his hand, then presses it over his eyes. ‘Take the bed,’ he says, managing to keep his voice steady. 

‘Yeah, ok,’ Ed says quickly. ‘You - there’s that chaise -’

‘Yep,’ Stede says. He pushes himself up out of the chair and holds out his hand for the tray. ‘I’m going to take this back to the galley,’ he says, with the intention of leaving the cabin to Ed for a few minutes to give the man some privacy. 

Once he’s gone down the hallway and through the outer door, Stede leans back against a wall. The sea breeze is cool. He listens to the creak of the sails, the gentle movement of the rigging, the lapping of the waves. God, he’d missed this ship. He stands for he’s not sure how long, just taking it in, feeling his entire body relaxing. Ed’s here, the crew is here, he’s here, a miracle he certainly doesn’t deserve but is going to grasp with both hands. 

Eventually he walks to the galley and wipes the tray clean; early on in his time at sea, Roach had given him a thorough talking to about what a rat can do to ship’s stores that he’s never forgotten. Then he wanders up to the wheel, nods to Frenchie, and circles back to the cabin, pushing the door open as quietly as he can. 

Ed’s a lump under the blanket, visible only as a few strands of silver hair falling over the side of the bed and the knuckles of one hand clutching the edge of the pillow. His jacket and boots are in a pile on the floor beside the bed. Stede’s heart seizes at the sight of him. There’s a blanket carefully folded on the chaise, and when Stede goes into the ensuite he finds a basin of clean water with a small folded cloth and bar of plain soap beside it. He has to stand for a few minutes with his hand over his eyes, weeping. 

He falls asleep facing Ed, and for the first time in months, he doesn’t dream. 

Chapter Text

He’s not sure what wakes him, but sometime in the dawn, he opens his eyes. Ed is sitting on the floor in front of him, eyes wide, leaning back against the side of the bed, a corked, nearly full bottle of rum sitting by one hand. 

‘Morning,’ Ed says softly. Light illuminates his beautiful face like a Caravaggio and makes Stede want to touch him so badly his fingers itch.

‘Mm,’ he mumbles instead, stretching under the blanket. ‘Morning, Ed.’

Ed sighs deeply, uncorks the bottle, then recorks it before sending the bottle rolling away into the shadows. Stede hears it clunk against something and makes a mental note to retrieve it later. 

‘What kind of amends?’ Ed asks. ‘Did the crew, uh, say?’ 

Stede turns on his side and props his head up on one hand. ‘I’ll find out,’ he says.

Ed shuts his eyes and thunks his head back against the bed. ‘I don’t fucking know how to do this,’ he mutters.

In the moment, Stede thinks Ed means how to make amends, so he says, ‘We’ll figure it out together, Ed.’ Later, though, he’ll wonder if Ed meant something else: the crew, sure, but also this , the thing between them that feels as loaded as a loose cannon rolling around on deck in stormy seas. 

Right now, Ed looks back at him and asks in a small voice, ‘You’ll talk to them?’

‘Yes,’ Stede says. He pushes himself up to sitting and stretches again, trying to work out the pain in his back - he’s certainly been sleeping in some strange places recently - then stands. ‘Don’t worry,’ he promises, because he will make this better for Ed or die trying. He holds out his hand to Ed, who hesitates before grasping it and letting Stede pull him to his feet. Stede forces himself to let go after a normal amount of time, but his hand tingles all the way out of the cabin. 

The sky is barely past pink grading into full daylight; there’s thin clouds stretched low across the horizon. Archie is up at the wheel, leaning against it and singing a jaunty-sounding tune to herself. 

‘Archie, right?’ Stede asks politely, as they still haven’t been formally introduced. 

‘Yeah, that’s me.’ She looks at Stede and cocks her head. ‘You’re the captain now, right?’

‘Yes.’ Stede hesitates. ‘Is that all right? I know you joined to be part of Blackbeard’s crew.’

‘New boss, same old shit, you know?’ Archie asks philosophically, which, Stede’s not sure if he should feel insulted or not. ‘But, I have heard we’re probably not going to mutiny you.’

‘Oh!’ Stede says, startled. ‘That’s very kind.’

‘Yeah, you know,’ Archie says, taking out a knife and digging into the wheel with its tip, ‘I was asking around about what you’re like. Because it’s fuckin’ wild to me that you’re the guy who broke Blackbeard’s heart so bad - you know, just looking at you.’

Stede sighs. ‘Right,’ he says. ‘Because the -’

‘Short.’

‘- not that tall -’

‘Right,’ Archie says and flexes one (admittedly impressive) arm. ‘And the muscles.’

Stede nods. ‘And the charisma.’

Their eyes meet and then Archie grins. ‘Nah, you saved us from Zheng. I see it.’ 

‘Well thanks,’ Stede says, chuffed. ‘So, I just wanted to let you know that Blackbeard actually is going to be staying with us. But not as the captain. He goes by Ed, by the way.’

‘Oh, yeah, Frenchie told us,’ Archie says. ‘You should probably talk to Jim. They’re pretty upset about it. They said they would say you’re thinking with your dick but they actually don’t want to think about it.’

Stede thinks that what he and Ed have is a lot more than just dick, thank you very much, but decides it’s probably not an appropriate workplace interaction to argue about it. ‘I’m on my way to talk to the rest of the crew,’ he says.

Stede is halfway down the stairs when Archie calls back, ‘Oh, Captain?’

Stede turns and looks back up at her. ‘Yeah?’

She shoots him with finger guns. ‘Congrats on the sex.’ 

Stede returns to the cabin with the two cups of tea, stomach churning at the thought of seeing Ed again. He opens the door, ready to announce what he’s brought, but his eyes land on the blanketed lump on the sofa. 

For a moment, Stede forgets to breathe. Everything has been moving so quickly the last few days and now suddenly he’s here, and Ed’s here, in the quiet stillness of the cabin, just the two of them, alone, breathing the same air. 

It hits Stede like a knife to the stomach. He carefully slides down the wall to sit on the floor, sets down the teacups, puts his head in his hands, and lets himself fall apart. 

He’s fully into heaving sobs when he hears, ‘Stede? Hey, Stede.’

He looks up from his hands at Ed, who is watching him from the couch, eyes wide. Stede gives him a watery smile and leans his head back against the wall, trying to catch his breath. They look at each other for a very long minute; then Ed stands, takes the blanket in one hand, and comes to sit on the floor next to Stede. Stede sweeps up the teacups as Ed sits, placing them on his other side. Ed doesn’t touch him, but he does very carefully lay the blanket over both their laps. 

‘It’s such a rare thing,’ he says quietly, ‘to find someone who understands you.’

‘Yeah,’ Stede agrees. ‘Once in a lifetime, in my case.’ He smiles sadly at the wall opposite. ‘And if you’re me, it’s so shocking that you might just panic and run off.’ 

‘Yeah,’ Ed says, ‘well. If you’re me, you might panic and run off with your dickhead friend.’ He looks down at their laps. ‘I did come back a lot faster, though.’ 

‘You did,’ Stede agrees; he feels the peace offering for what it is and offers Ed his teacup in return. Ed accepts it carefully, holding it with both hands before taking a sip, then shuts his eyes and drains the rest of the cup.

‘Fuck, that’s so good.’

‘I know,’ Stede smiles. ‘I asked Roach to buy everything necessary for good tea yesterday.’ He hesitates. ‘We used just a little bit of the treasure -’

Ed waves a hand. ‘Great. Get rid of it. It belongs to the crew anyway. I don’t fucking want it.’

Stede starts to push himself to his feet. ‘I’ll go get you some more tea.’

‘Wait.’

Stede slides back down the wall and looks at him. 

‘Are you -’ Ed takes a deep breath and stares straight ahead. ‘You were crying, Stede. Are you ok?’

Stede’s instinct is to say yes, to brush the question aside as mere politeness, and he very nearly does, when Ed says, ‘Hey. Fuck. Stede. Be honest with me.’ He pauses and cocks his head. ‘Please?’ 

Stede exhales. Had Mary ever asked him for that? And what does he really feel? ‘I think it’s all catching up with me,’ he admits. ‘I’d been looking so hard for you, and then it seemed like I was too late.’ He looks at Ed, whose jaw is clenched. ‘How are you feeling?’

Ed swallows. ‘Truthfully?’

‘Please.’

‘I feel like a bunch of people beat me to death and then I was dead for a while.’

Stede winces. ‘Ed -’

Ed doesn’t smile. ‘Sorry,’ he says. ‘Meant to be a little bit of a joke.’ He shrugs. ‘Feel like I could sleep for a thousand years.’

‘Ed, just take the bed,’ Stede says.

‘I’m fine with the sofa. ‘s where I used to sleep.’  

‘The bed is nicer,’ Stede says, exasperated at Ed’s stubbornness. ‘Please.’ He hesitates because Ed’s frowning and adds, ‘For me.’

Ed’s face goes through several emotions very quickly. Then he says, ‘I don’t think I deserve the captain’s bed. I kind of abused the authority of the office.’

‘You deserve to heal,’ Stede says firmly. ‘I won’t hear anything else about it.’ Ed looks away and huffs. ‘You forgot,’ Stede says, teasing gently, ‘how annoying I am, didn’t you?’

‘Shut up.’ Ed doesn’t look back at him; Stede realises a second too late that it’s because his eyes are full of tears. 

‘Ed,’ he says, suddenly full of the memory of how it had felt to touch Ed, on the beach, to be held by him and to hold his hand, and all he wants is to reach out - 

‘So what does the crew want from me?’ Ed asks, voice brittle.

‘I still need to talk to a few people,’ Stede says, letting his hand drop to his own knee. ‘Things are positive though.’ 

Ed shakes his head. ‘You would say that.’

‘Do you think I’m wrong?’

‘I think you’re an optimist.’

‘Oh,’ Stede says, ‘well, yes, I suppose.’ He examines that statement. He’s been trying, lately, to be introspective. To stop just barrelling on through life as something to survive, but to pay attention to his wants and needs in a way that might be less destructive than spending over a decade trapped in a loveless marriage before running away to be a pirate. To maybe examine why being around Ed makes him feel like a horse kicked his chest instead of shoving it down until he utterly panics and nearly ruins everything. Things of that nature. ‘You think I’m an optimist?’

‘Yeah,’ Ed says. ‘Obviously.’

‘Really?’

‘Stede,’ Ed says, ‘you thought a treasure map sold by an old woman down at the docks was real.’

‘It was real!’ 

Ed makes a noise that feels both laugh- and fond-adjacent. Stede gets the horse-kicking-chest feeling again, but now that he knows why it’s no longer alarming. 

‘How did you find the Revenge, by the way?’ Ed asks. ‘Been wondering that. Did you get another ship?’

‘Ooh,’ Stede says, ‘no. We - gosh, it’s a bit of a long story.’ 

Ed finally looks at him. His eyes are wide and so, so beautiful. ‘Go on,’ he says. 

‘Well,’ Stede says. ‘Well, I, ah, I found the crew - on the island -’

Ed winces and looks away. Stede kicks himself for bringing that up and tries to rush on past. ‘Everyone was fine! Just a bit of sunburn, a little minor dehydration, no permanent damage done. So we went to the Republic of Pirates, and got jobs with Spanish Jackie -’ He suddenly remembers a detail that might cheer Ed up. ‘Oh, remember the Swede?’

Ed nods. ‘Guy with the amazing singing voice, right?’

‘Exactly. Well. Jackie took quite a liking to him.’

‘Oh shit,’ Ed says, and he does actually smile. ‘Let me guess. He’s married now.’

‘It was really beautiful,’ Stede says. ‘He gave us a lovely speech about it. It sounds like she’s really changed his life.’

Ed grins. ‘Good for him.’

‘So then we were working for Jackie, trying to earn money to buy a ship to come after you,’ Stede says. 

Ed blinks several times. ‘Wait, what ?’

‘I know,’ Stede says, shrugging with embarrassment. ‘Olu told me I was being ridiculous.’

‘But why not - why -’ Ed frowns. ‘Why didn’t you have money?’

‘Oh,’ Stede says, waving his hand. ‘I left it all to my ex-wife and children.’

‘ What ?’ 

Stede has a sudden flash of fear that Ed will find this to be too much . He knows Ed loves him, but he does still have that whole lifetime of insecurity to overcome. ‘I, ah, well, last time, I just felt - I was still so tied to my old life. I wanted to start fresh. And make sure they were all taken care of since I was, you know, abandoning them forever.’ Ed is staring at him. ‘Is that - I’m sorry, Ed, I -’ Panic is ringing in his skull now in sharp, arhythmic pulses. ‘I just thought, you know, starting fresh was the right thing to do.’ He wants to add something about how he wanted to start fresh because Ed had suggested it, on the beach, but he’s not sure he wants to bring up anything relating to that conversation just yet. 

‘That’s fucking wild,’ Ed says. ‘And, like, really fucking brave?’

The panic stops. Stede meets Ed’s eyes; he seems genuine. ‘You think so?’

Ed widens his eyes in that way he does when he wants Stede to really pay attention to what he’s about to say next. ‘You never do anything by halves, do you?’ 

Stede shrugs, starts to open his mouth, but Ed says, ‘ Don’t fucking apologise. I told you before - you’re a fucking lunatic.’

‘And you like it,’ Stede finishes for him, his stomach fluttering. 

Ed knocks their ankles together, stopping Stede’s heart for a moment, then says, ‘All right, so you’re at Spanish Jackie’s, you’re trying to earn money for a boat -’

‘Right,’ Stede says. ‘Well. We decided to steal something big from her to buy the boat. After having, uh, taken stock of where being wage earners in the service industry had gotten us.’

‘You decided to steal from Jackie?’ Ed asks, eyes dancing. ‘Fuck, man, that’s worse than the English. She will kill you. We gotta get out of the Caribbean. Maybe the whole Atlantic.’

‘Well,’ Stede says, warming to Ed’s enthusiasm, ‘we didn’t successfully steal it.’ 

Ed starts giggling. ‘Oh fuck. But you’re somehow still alive.’

‘Right,’ Stede says, ‘we wound up getting caught - I hate to throw him under the boat, but Buttons took forever to bring the getaway dory - but before Jackie could kill us, we got bought by this other pirate captain!’ 

Ed bursts into laughter. ‘Stede. What the fuck ?’

Stede can’t help himself; he’s laughing too. ‘Zheng Yi Sao,’ he says. 

‘Wait,’ Ed says, and moves like he’s about to lay his hand on Stede’s arm before pulling it back. Stede mourns the lost touch as Ed says, ‘Like. The fucking Pirate Queen of China?’

Stede nods. 

Ed waves a hand. ‘How was she even involved in this transaction?’

‘She was selling soup in the Republic of Pirates,’ Stede says. It has occurred to him that that’s a pretty ridiculous thing for her to have been doing, but he hasn’t shared his thoughts with anyone else. ‘I think,’ he adds, lowering his voice conspiratorially, ‘she might have been spying on the English.’

Ed frowns and nods. ‘Well, that’s fucking interesting and we should definitely talk about that more later,’ he says. ‘But - wait - she -’ Ed looks at Stede, still frowning. ‘She was selling soup but then she bought you and the crew from Jackie?’

‘Right,’ Stede says. ‘And then we were on her crew! And we came upon the Revenge adrift.’ He stops the narrative, because there’s a world of pain there that he doesn’t want to touch. ‘Zheng’s an amazing captain by the way - you’d love her - and we really hit it off.’ He pauses. ‘I guess she’s probably pretty mad at me now. For taking the Revenge from her.’

Ed snorts. ‘You’ve got a real track record with famous pirate captains, don’t you mate?’

Stede blushes. ‘It wasn’t like that ,’ he mutters. 

Ed opens his mouth in what appears to be genuine shock, then snaps it shut again, and then he blushes, which makes Stede both want to jump overboard and have such a violent explosion of butterflies in his stomach that he feels dizzy. 

‘ Anyway ,’ Stede manages after a moment, ‘that’s how we found the Revenge.’ 

‘And stole it from the pirate queen,’ Ed says. 

‘Right,’ Stede says. He smiles at Ed. ‘We stole her wheel.’

‘Ah,’ Ed says, looking away, and Stede hates himself for bringing it up as he realises that of course there’s a reason why the Revenge was missing its wheel, and it wasn’t natural causes. 

‘Sorry,’ he says. 

Ed sighs. ‘Don’t be,’ he mutters.

‘Ed -’

‘ Don’t ,’ Ed says. ‘I’m the one who did it.’

They sit with that in silence for a moment before Stede says, ‘Well, I’m going to go talk to the crew,’ and pushes himself to his feet. 

‘Stede.’

‘Hm?’

Ed looks up at him with a worried frown. ‘I said it last night. Don’t fuck things up with them over me, all right?’

Stede frowns back at him. ‘How would I do that?’

‘Like if they really don’t want me here,’ Ed says. 

‘They do,’ Stede says firmly. ‘Really. They were very conflicted when we were discussing this originally. It was a split vote! And then Frenchie changed his vote to aye.’ Stede hesitates. ‘Ah, maybe don’t tell them you know who voted which way, all right?’

Ed’s mouth wobbles. ‘I won’t.’ He hesitates, seemingly lost for words, before he says, ‘But really, Stede. I’m not worth you fucking things up with your crew.’

‘ Ed .’

Ed shrugs. ‘Don’t.’

‘No,’ Stede says firmly. ‘ You don’t.’

Ed glares at him. ‘I’m not exactly a good guy.’

‘Ed, you did some bad things,’ Stede says, exasperated, ‘but that doesn’t mean you’re a bad person.’

Ed gives him a look . ‘How do you do it?’ he asks quietly. ‘The optimism, I mean.’

‘I don’t know,’ Stede says honestly. ‘I think -’ He shrugs. ‘I think if I wasn’t, everything would be too much, you know?’

Ed’s mouth wobbles again. ‘Yeah,’ he says hoarsely. ‘I really fucking know.’ He waves his hand. ‘Go.’ He swallows. ‘But come back?’

Stede suddenly understands how literal the phrase melt into someone’s arms can be. They’re both doing it, aren’t they? ‘I’ll be back soon,’ he promises. It takes every amount of strength in his legs to get him through the cabin door. 

He calls a crew meeting. They stand up by the wheel so everyone can be present. Even Izzy makes an appearance, bearing a new prosthetic leg that seems to have been liberated from the Revenge’s headless figurehead. 

Well, Stede thinks. No matter. What is a ship for, but to serve its crew? 

‘Now I bet you’re all wondering why I called this crew meeting,’ he starts. 

‘No.’

‘Not really.’

‘It’s pretty obvious, captain.’

‘You want Blackbeard to stay.’

‘Well, he is staying,’ Stede reminds them. ‘There was a change of vote, which I’m sure you’ve all heard about.’

Lucius gives Frenchie a dark look. 

‘Yes, yes,’ Jim says, brandishing a dagger. ‘But we’ve discussed it and it is conditional.’

‘Blackbeard has to make amends,’ Wee John says. ‘Or else he’s off again.’

‘Of course,’ Stede says. ‘Absolutely. We understand that.’ He looks at them and sees varying degrees of hostility, but no one looks outright mutinous. He can work with that. ‘Have you thought of the conditions?’

‘Well, for one thing,’ Frenchie says, ‘he can’t be captain.’

‘And no co-captaining,’ Oluwande adds. He gives Pete a pointed look. ‘We’re just going to be captained by you now.’

‘Perfect,’ Stede says. ‘Condition one.’ He nods to Lucius. ‘Are you taking notes?’

Lucius blinks several times, then says, ‘No.’

‘Well, then, could you fetch me some ink and paper? And a pen?’

Lucius narrows his eyes, about to say something, when Izzy cuts in with, ‘There’s only three conditions, Bonnet. Surely you can remember them.’ 

Stede considers his position. He is actually the captain of this vessel and he could order Lucius to do it - but what would be the point, other than making Lucius resent him even more? And Izzy’s certainly come out of all of this the worse for wear, so Stede might as well be magnanimous to him too. He waves a hand. ‘Fine,’ he says. ‘What’s the next?’

The crew looks at Wee John, who perks up and says, ‘He’s got to wear a sack.’

‘A sack?’ Stede repeats. ‘What do you mean?’

‘No fancy leathers. No Blackbeard look.’ 

Stede frowns. ‘A sack seems, ah, difficult to wear?’

‘I’ll sew it to fit,’ Wee John says. 

‘It’ll have leg holes?’ Stede clarifies. ‘And arm holes?’

John looks at him like he’s lost his mind. ‘I’m not sewing him into a sack. I’m sewing him a onesie made out of a sack.’

‘John will be along to do the fitting soon,’ Frenchie adds. ‘And you need to stay there with him and make sure Blackbeard can’t do anything to him.’

‘We’ll all go,’ Jim announces. 

‘Someone has to steer the ship,’ Stede points out, because he’s never going to forget that little debacle. 

‘I’ll go with John,’ Frenchie says. 

‘Ok,’ Stede says, a little less sure. ‘Condition two, Ed has to wear a sack. But - you need to make sure he’s safe in it. Nothing that would restrict his movement if, say, we got raided.’ He hesitates, a little afraid of whatever the third condition is going to be, because what if Ed doesn’t want to do these things? What if Ed decides he’ll leave instead?

‘Condition three,’ Frenchie announces. ‘No sneaking.’

Stede cocks his head. ‘No sneaking?’

‘He’s always sneaking up on people,’ Frenchie says. ‘Me, Lucius. He’s got to have some way to not be able to do that.’

Stede frowns. ‘Like what?’

‘Something that’ll make a noise when he moves,’ Frenchie says. 

‘Like a bell you’d put on a kitty’s collar,’ Pete adds.

‘Hm,’ Stede says. ‘Well - let’s see what you come up with.’

‘Um,’ Archie says, raising her hand. ‘This seems kind of crazy to me. I mean, we’re just asking Blackbeard to do this stuff with the threat being he has to leave the ship if he doesn’t? Like, is that going to work?’

‘It’s not leaving the ship that he cares about,’ Lucius snips. 

‘Now, Lucius,’ Stede starts. 

‘Just - trust us,’ Oluwande says to Archie. ‘It’s going to be weird, but - trust us.’

‘It’s not weird,’ Stede says, annoyed. ‘I think we pride ourselves here on the Revenge for being a forgiving community -’ Izzy makes some kind of scoffing noise and Stede loses patience. ‘In fact, we even let people stay on the crew who sold out their captains to the English.’ 

Everyone falls silent; Izzy looks genuinely taken aback. Stede takes a deep breath and says, ‘Now. If those are all your conditions, I will go speak with Ed.’ 

‘We’ll be along to make the sack soon,’ Wee John calls as Stede leaves. 

Stede’s hands are sweating with anxiety by the time he arrives back in the cabin. Ed’s sitting on one of the armchairs, in the middle of mending a tear in the fabric with neat, tiny stitches. Stede lays out the three conditions to him, trying to soften them as much as possible while being honest about what they entail. 

‘And some kind of bell,’ he concludes. ‘So people can hear you coming.’

‘That’s it?’ Ed asks, staring up at Stede with big eyes. 

‘Um, yes, I suppose so,’ Stede says. ‘I also think we might want to write an apology? Or - or something like that. Just something to say to the crew to sort of, ah, reintroduce you.’

Ed waves a hand. ‘Yeah, sure,’ he says. ‘But like, just those three conditions? No flogging, no keelhauling? That’s it?’

‘Is that -’ Stede winces. ‘Is that ok?’

Ed nods vigorously, his curls bouncing up and down against his jacket. ‘Absolutely. Yes. Yep.’

Stede nearly collapses with relief. ‘Kind of you to fix up that chair,’ he says, lowering himself onto the couch. 

‘I’m the one that fucked it up,’ Ed says gruffly. He bends back over it and Stede watches him for a minute, following his fingers. He remembers Ed folding his socks at the academy and he thinks, with a feeling like he’s a lead ball rattling down the barrel of a cannon, about the small steps of building a life together. He thinks about rainy evenings, and Ed sitting beside him, and the way that Ed is always looking for something to do with his hands, some way to be helpful, and he wants to crawl across the floor and lay down at Ed’s feet and beg him for a second chance - 

He knows Ed loves him, but he also knows that love might not be enough to mend what he broke between them. 

This feels like a second chance, Stede thinks, so cautiously optimistic that he can barely examine the thought head on, has to think about it obliquely, at the edges of his mind, in case he’s wrong. Ed’s fingers deftly move the needle and it feels like a promise. 

Wee John knocks; Stede calls for him to enter and he does, with several large pieces of sackcloth and Frenchie. 

Stede watches Ed give them both an apprehensive look and leaps into good host mode. He finds a bottle of something nice and fizzy amongst the treasure littering the cabin and pours each of them a glass, then, with Frenchie’s help, lights several candles to illuminate John’s workspace. When John requests that Ed remove his jacket, Stede darts forward - Ed looks at him, startled, but then relinquishes the jacket to Stede with a little touch between their hands that Stede thinks calms them both. Stede can’t help but slide his fingers down into one sleeve before he lays it on the back of the chaise; the worn fabric is soft and hot from Ed’s body and the intimate feel of it makes Stede quite faint.

John finishes the fitting and goes away promising to have it finished in the morning. Things start to happen quickly after that. There’s a ship sighted on the horizon and Stede has to go up on deck to deal with it; it winds up being a merchantman that doesn’t turn their way but there’s several tense moments of waiting. Other captainly duties call, and Stede isn’t able to return to the cabin until after dark, when Roach sends him with a tray full of dinner. 

Ed’s hunched over a different chair, squinting in the candlelight. His leather jacket is where Stede left it on the chaise, and he’s still wearing the same black knitted shirt with the short sleeves and wide collar as before. 

‘Are you hungry?’ Stede asks. 

Ed hesitates. There’s a soft, sad expression on his face as he looks at the tray that makes Stede’s heart twist, but. He knows Ed needs time. He carefully sets the tray onto the desk and starts to lay out two place settings, folding the napkin and laying the limited cutlery on it, then rotating the plate so it will look most pleasing to a viewer seated in front of it, then pouring ruby red wine into a tin cup and placing that at the two o’clock position above the plate. 

He hears a scraping noise and looks up; Ed is dragging two chairs to the desk. He sits them side by side, not quite close enough to touch incidentally but certainly closer than random dinner guests would sit. Stede smiles down at the desk and lays out the second place setting. Then Ed pulls one chair out and indicates that he should sit; Stede does, and waits for Ed to sit beside him. 

‘A toast?’ he suggests once Ed has. 

Ed hesitates, then nods. 

‘To Roach’s cooking,’ Stede says, lifting his tin cup. 

Ed smiles. ‘To Roach’s cooking.’ 

They eat in relative silence aside from the occasional commentary on the remarkableness of the food. Stede feels the tug of wanting things to go back to how they were, that easy familiarity between them, the first and best close friendship he’s ever had in his life. 

Ed chose to change that, Stede thinks now, feeling the heat from Ed’s body beside him. Ed loved Stede so much that he chose to upset the precious balance between them. 

Stede loves Ed’s bravery. 

Of course, Stede loves everything about Ed, but his bravery - it makes Stede want to be brave enough to match him. 

Ed exhales, reaches for his tin cup, then lets his hand rest on the table instead, his fingers flexing open and closed near the cup’s broad handle. 

‘How’s Izzy?’ he asks, staring at the table. 

Stede wracks his brain for anything of note about that unpleasant man and comes up with - ‘He’s got a new leg.’

Ed props his head up on his hand, elbow on the table, and looks at Stede. ‘Where’d he get that from?’

‘The figurehead,’ Stede says. ‘I think the crew must have helped him. Someone painted it gold.’

Ed laughs, clearly startled. ‘The crew really likes him,’ he says. There’s something under the words that Stede doesn’t know yet, something that sounds painful, but he thinks Ed will tell him in his own time. 

‘Did you shoot him because he sold us out?’ Stede asks. 

Ed swallows. ‘Long story,’ he says. His eyes meet Stede’s and the look in them makes Stede start wondering if he’s going to need to throw Izzy overboard. ‘I’ll tell you sometime,’ Ed says quietly. ‘Not now.’

‘Too fresh?’ Stede asks gently. 

Ed nods, pinching his lips together. 

‘I do love the beard length,’ Stede says, because he loves to see Ed’s mouth. ‘You’ve got such a lovely, expressive face.’

Ed inhales and cocks his head at Stede. ‘Flatterer,’ he says, but his eyes are huge. 

Stede thinks, Are we flirting? I think we’re flirting . It absolutely thrills him. ‘Is it flattery if I’m telling the truth?’ he asks. Ed seems a little overcome, so Stede pours them each a bit more wine, and asks, ‘Now, is there some paper and ink in here?’

‘The little drawer under the middle of the desk,’ Ed says quietly. ‘Why?’

‘I thought we might write the apology to the crew,’ Stede says. 

Ed frowns. ‘We?’

‘If you want my help,’ Stede says quickly. 

Ed laughs, shakes his head, and stands up to collect their plates and put them onto the tray. ‘You’re a fucking force of nature.’

Stede lays out the back of a map - the only blank sheet of paper in there - and sharpens the ragged quill he’d found with one of the five daggers he’d seen in the drawer. ‘Do you want my help?’

Ed pushes the tray to the edge of the desk and sits again, turning towards Stede, drawing his legs up and wrapping his arms around his knees. ‘Yeah,’ he says. 

Stede has to restrain himself from touching Ed’s knee; he settles for chewing on the end of the quill. He waits a moment and looks over at Ed, who is picking at a loose thread on the collar of his shirt, his fingers just below the tattoo of a falcon that adorns the lovely span of his breastbone. 

‘I don’t know where to start,’ Ed says, looking up from the thread and startling Stede, whose mind had wandered deep into a lush fantasy of running his own fingers over that tattoo. 

Stede manages to look at the paper. ‘We could try to get down some main points,’ he suggests. ‘What are you feeling?’

Ed shrugs. ‘I don’t know,’ he mutters. ‘What should I be feeling?’

Stede ponders that. ‘Well,’ he starts, ‘maybe - I mean - we’re a community. And you, unfortunately, and I don’t say this to - to be cruel -’

‘And I fucked up?’ Ed asks, eyebrows raised. 

‘You made some members of the community feel unsafe,’ Stede says. ‘And now we’re trying to figure out how you can continue to be part of it without them still feeling that way. I think. I mean, two of the conditions are explicitly to prevent you from repeating actions that did make people feel unsafe.’

‘No sneaking up on people,’ Ed mutters. He frowns at Stede. ‘Do you think I sneak up on people?’

‘I’ve never seen it,’ Stede says. He’s never been in a room that Ed entered without immediately knowing Ed was there. ‘But the crew did say you do, so I think we have to trust them on this.’ Ed’s still frowning, so Stede adds, ‘Sneaking is probably a good skill to have, as a pirate captain. You know, for catching people unawares. So it’s really sort of a compliment.’

‘Heh,’ Ed says, and gives Stede a half smile. ‘I guess it is.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘All right. So. They’re letting me back into the community.’ He toys with the edge of the table, then points at the drawer. ‘Can I have a knife?’

‘Sure,’ Stede says, pulling out the first one he sees and passing it to Ed, who immediately starts fidgeting with it. ‘Careful of your fingers,’ Stede says.

‘Only stabbed myself accidentally a few times,’ Ed mutters, but he stops moving it in a way that seems likely to result in maiming and instead starts digging his fingernail into grooves on the handle. He takes a deep breath, then says, very quickly. ‘Ok. So. I guess, first of all, fuck, I mean, I guess, but.’ He lets out the breath and runs his finger over the knife’s pommel. ‘I’m grateful.’

Stede writes that down, then says, ‘For what?’

‘For letting me back.’

‘Should we get into why?’ Stede asks, trying to think where to go from ‘I’m grateful.’

‘Ah,’ Ed says, ‘probably, uh, don’t need to. Get into that.’ He hesitates. ‘I’ll just, uh, talk about how, you know, it’s too bad, that, um, people felt unsafe.’

Stede nods, writing more. ‘How about talking about the future?’ he suggests. ‘Talking about moving past anything, ah, unpleasant. Because that’s in the past. Now we’re at the phase where we want to move the culture forward.’

‘That’s in the past,’ Ed echoes. ‘No more of that dark stuff.’

Stede’s heart clenches; he thinks about the circumstances that brought them here, and about Ed, lost and alone, deciding to burn the world down around him. 

‘No more dark stuff,’ Ed repeats, and Stede realises that Ed is giving him a meaningful look; when he catches Ed’s gaze, Ed raises his eyebrows. Stede does touch Ed’s knee, then, lightly, because he can’t not touch him and his knee feels like the safest thing. 

‘If you feel that way again -’ he starts, and Ed shakes his head. 

‘I want to be here,’ he says. Stede realises with a sharp pang that Ed means more than just the Revenge. Ed looks down at his lap, then off to the side. ‘S’why I’m doing all this. Wearing what they want, giving a speech. I made my choice.’ He takes a deep breath. ‘I chose to live.’ 

Stede squeezes Ed’s knee and blinks tears out of his eyes. ‘I’m so glad,’ he says. 

‘Yeah, yeah,’ Ed mutters. ‘C’mon, what’s next here?’

‘We need a strong conclusion,’ Stede says. ‘I was thinking about talking about how the ship is a safe space.’

‘What’s that?’ Ed asks, brow furrowed. ‘I mean, there’s lots of ways to get hurt on a pirate ship.’

‘Ah, yes,’ Stede says, ‘I suppose I meant - emotionally. Mentally.’

‘Oh,’ Ed says. ‘Yeah. Cause you know. You can get rope burns. Or slip and fall. Or slip and fall onto a bunch of knives.’

‘Right,’ Stede says. ‘Of course.’ 

‘But,’ Ed says, ‘I like the other types of safety. That you said.’ He nails Stede with those big eyes. ‘I think it is that. Mostly. Some people…’ He trails off, then shrugs. 

‘Who?’ Stede asks, frowning. 

‘Oh, you know,’ Ed says. He glances to the side. ‘Izzy can be a bit, uh, insensitive.’

‘Ah,’ Stede says, remembering Lucius’s complaints about Izzy bullying him. He’d only told them to Stede after Izzy left the Revenge following their duel. ‘Yes. Well.’ Stede sighs. ‘I wonder if there’s some way to, ah, redirect his more - his insensitive tendencies.’

Ed appears to weigh that. ‘You gotta give him a job to do,’ he says finally. ‘Izzy without enough to do is how you get shit like him running off to rat us out to the Navy.’

‘Good to know,’ Stede says. 

‘Think we’re done?’ Ed asks. 

Stede looks at the notes. They’re a little scattered. ‘We can read over them again in the morning,’ he says. 

‘You take the bed tonight,’ Ed says firmly. ‘You’ve had a long day.’ 

Stede opens his mouth to argue - Ed, again, was dead barely forty-eight hours ago - but Ed reaches out, lays his hand on Stede’s forearm, and squeezes it. All of Stede’s thoughts fly out of his head. 

‘For me?’ Ed asks.

Stede would do anything for Ed. He exhales and says, ‘All right. But no weaponising that phrase.’

‘Why not?’ Ed asks, grinning. ‘You did.’

We are definitely flirting , Stede thinks, giddy. 

Ed takes the couch, and Stede takes the bed, and Ed’s so far away but he’s also close enough for Stede to hear his soft breathing. Stede tries to fight sleep for a few minutes, to take it in, to listen to the way that Ed’s breaths both even out and become a little louder as he falls into sleep - Stede remembers that from before - lying in this bed and feeling the comfort of Ed lying close by -

Chapter Text

He wakes to morning light and Ed saying, ‘Hey, Stede.’ 

‘Ed?’ he breathes, scared that he’s dreaming again until he manages to get his eyes open and sees the man before him. 

‘John’s here,’ Ed says. ‘With the sack.’ He makes a face. ‘And Pete’s got - well - you’ll see.’

Pete’s got a collar with a cat bell on it. ‘No sneaking!’ he says, shaking it. It rings merrily. 

Stede puts on his single outfit (not counting the clothing from the Red Flag - he supposes he should ask Wee John to repurpose that into something, but he can’t stand to look at what he was wearing when he thought Ed was gone), washes his face, and brushes out his hair. The brush in the ensuite is unfamiliar and has a number of silver-black hairs in it. He presses it to his face and inhales Ed’s scent before he uses it. 

Then he emerges to find Ed, John, and Pete standing in the centre of the cabin. 

Ed is rotating a rough-looking piece of fabric with a frown. ‘How does it stay on?’

‘Captain can tie the back,’ John says. ‘Let me know if it needs any adjustments.’

Stede’s still trying to grapple with the implications of what John’s said when he and Pete leave the cabin; then it’s just Ed, holding the cloth, and Stede, who is apparently going to need to tie Ed into it . Ed makes some kind of noise, Stede can’t determine if it’s good or bad, and then strips off his t-shirt. Stede’s mouth goes dry at the sight of him, which is ridiculous - he’s seen Ed in various states of undress many times, including the very first day he met him, and there’s no need, absolutely no need, for him to be feeling faint at the sight of Ed’s tattoos and the greying hair on his chest and the soft curves of his waist and - 

Ed looks directly up at him and Stede feels like he’s been caught by a siren song. He steps close without meaning to and takes the sackcloth, holding it open at its waist, so Ed can step out of his trousers and neatly into it. Stede keeps his eyes resolutely on the wall to the right, heart hammering and palms sweating, until he hears Ed say, ‘Can you, uh -’

‘Mm?’

‘Tie it?’

Ed’s voice has a little shake to it and makes Stede feel shaky too, like they’re standing on the edge of a seacliff lashed by storms, erosion eating into its soft sandstone underbelly. Stede doesn’t know if he’ll survive the plunge, but he wants to go over the edge anyway. He draws the fabric together across the muscles of Ed’s back - and what a tattoo he’s got there, Stede’s only glimpsed it before but now he gets a full view of it, and pauses, taking it in, the snake and the skull and the words and - 

‘Ah, fuck, yeah, forgot about that one,’ Ed mutters, presumably having figured out why Stede’s stopped both moving and breathing behind him. ‘It’s uh, you know. Young and dumb. Felt cool at the time.’

‘The artwork is very nice,’ Stede manages to say. ‘Very, ah, evocative.’

Ed makes a sceptical noise. ‘You can say you hate it.’

‘No,’ Stede replies, rallying at Ed’s tone. ‘It’s part of you, so I - well. You know.’ Ed inhales sharply enough that his shoulders rise; Stede finishes tying the back and pats his hand over the tie gently. ‘There we go,’ he says. 

‘One more thing,’ Ed says, voice low. He holds up his hand over his shoulder, palm up. Coiled in the centre of it is the bronze bell on its woven strap. 

Stede takes it and examines it, frowning. The strap looks worn, as does the bell. ‘Where on earth did Pete get this?’ 

Ed shrugs. ‘Took it off some cat, I guess.’

‘There’s no cat aboard,’ Stede says. 

‘Guess he kidnapped some cat at the last port or something,’ Ed says. ‘I bet it was tough. They’re pointy-footed little bastards.’

Stede carefully lifts the collar and holds each end in one hand, looking at the back of Ed’s neck and trying to gauge if it’s going to be too tight. ‘Are you ready?’

‘Yep.’

‘I’m just going to reach over your head,’ Stede says, raising his arms. He finds that with his boots on and Ed in his bare feet, they’re nearly the same height. Immediately he thinks: if Ed turned and kissed me, I wouldn’t have to tilt my head up much at all . He settles the collar around Ed’s neck and secures it -

‘Is that too tight? It feels quite snug.’

Ed shrugs. ‘It’s all right,’ he says, voice low again. ‘Could be worse.’

‘Mm,’ Stede says, noncommittally, making sure it’s well fastened and then inserting a finger under it and running it around the right side of Ed’s neck to make sure he’s got room to breathe like he remembers one is supposed to do with a pet. 

Ed makes a little noise and his hand flies up to catch Stede’s. ‘What’re you -’

‘Just checking it’s not too tight,’ Stede says quickly, because he should have asked Ed before he touched him like that. ‘Sorry.’

‘No, that’s - that’s -’ Ed pats Stede’s hand and lowers his. ‘Thank you.’

Stede steps back and Ed turns to face him. He looks - soft , Stede thinks. Younger, lighter, like the weight of all that leather had been bearing him down into the sea. His eyes are wide, and the pale colour of the sack reminds Stede instantly of Ed’s shirt at the academy. Ed had looked softer and younger then too. When he’d - 

Stede can’t think about that right now. Ed kissing him at the academy is a memory he tries not to take out too much, lest he somehow tarnish it.

‘I’m going to look at the notes,’ Ed says. ‘For the apology.’

Stede nods and sits on the chaise before he does something regrettable like grabbing Ed and kissing him senseless. ‘Want to rehearse?’ he asks. 

Ed crosses to the desk and looks at the back of the map, frowning as he reads. ‘You’ve got nice handwriting,’ he says suddenly.

‘Oh?’ Stede asks, startled. His handwriting is full of dramatic loops and swirls. Mary had always complained that it was hard to read. ‘No one’s ever complimented me on it before.’

Ed shrugs. ‘Well, I like it,’ he says decisively. 

Stede feels like bursting into tears, which is objectively very silly, because it’s just a compliment about his handwriting, but no one’s ever given him one before, and this one is from Ed, and it feels like it means the world. Stede’s still blinking away wetness when Ed carefully lays the paper down on the desk, takes a deep breath, and says, ‘All right.’ He looks up at Stede. ‘You’ll be there?’

‘Of course, Ed,’ Stede says. ‘I’ll be right beside you.’ He hesitates. ‘Thank you, by the way.’

‘For what?’ Ed asks, frowning. 

‘For -’ Stede gestures at the whole outfit. ‘Doing this. Staying. I know you said you chose to live but - you didn’t have to stay on the Revenge.’

Ed looks away and Stede watches him blink for a moment before he says, ‘I would have stayed no matter what the conditions were.’ He walks to the door before Stede can catch his breath. ‘C’mon. Let’s go.’

The apology goes well, Stede thinks afterwards, especially when Ed tells him that he never apologised for anything as captain. They gravitate towards each other as always, Ed following Stede while he cleans up the hallway leading to the cabin. When Ed leaves to continue repairing things, Stede feels a piece of his heart go with him the way it always has, except this time he understands why. 

Stede embarks on his project of giving Izzy something to do while continuing to improve as a pirate captain. Even without Lucius to track his progress in the journal, Stede can feel that he’s gotten better at it. The months at Jackie’z for some and aboard the Revenge for others seem to have strengthened the crew’s bond; Stede’s touched that when he goes to investigate further on the Spanish ship they’re raiding, Jim is the first to accompany him with their sword drawn. 

Of course, there’s the small matter of the crew deciding his magnificent suit is cursed, but even that can’t lower his spirits, not really, when he knows that whenever he falls asleep, Ed will be in the same room. 

Evening comes. Stede eats dinner in the galley with some of the other crew members, thinking both that Roach won’t have had time with all the day’s excitement to do much more than serve them something quick and hearty and also that it’s good for a captain to sometimes share a meal with his crew. 

Ed enters the galley and for a moment he’s all Stede can see; when Stede manages to become aware of his surroundings again, he sees Ed and Fang laughing together in the doorway, but Ed is looking right at him. Roach calls to them asking if they want stew and Ed passes out of Stede’s sight for a moment; he resists the urge to twist in his seat just to keep watching him. 

‘Hey,’ Ed’s voice says, quiet and suddenly close to Stede’s ear. ‘I’ve got something to show you on deck after dinner.’

Pete, sitting opposite Stede, raises his eyebrows and clearly mouths, Sexy . Stede attempts to frown but it was very sexy and his heart’s still pounding when Ed rejoins him, bearing a bowl of stew.

‘Budge over,’ Stede says to Archie, who is seated to his left. ‘Make room for Ed.’

‘I’m gonna fall off the fucking bench,’ Archie complains, so Stede shoves himself into the wall on his right, and Ed squeezes in between him and Archie, who does not fall despite complaining some more. They eat side by side, Ed’s leg and shoulder pressed into Stede’s own. 

Stede has no room on the bench to eat without his arm brushing against Ed’s, and no room in his head to think about what’s in the stew. 

On deck, Ed shows him the big surprise - a fish, and he’s clearly proud of it, so Stede is too -  and then he reminds Stede of the last time they’d stood together like this under the moonlight. Stede thinks his heart is going to come apart, disintegrate into dust under Selene’s familiar gaze, because he’s remembered that night so many times and to know Ed has too is just so much -

Ed shimmies forward, looking up at Stede through his long lashes, and Stede forgets to think, forgets to breathe, becomes nothing but a vessel to pour his love for Ed into the points where they touch. And if he gets a bit carried away - well, fuck, who could ever blame him, when Ed looks like that and his mouth is pliant, his beard soft, the curls at the back of his head even softer, and kissing him is like sinking down into a dream state where everything is warm and nothing hurts. 

They walk together back to their cabin. The night is quiet and calm around them, and Stede feels something newly settled in his soul too. Ed shuts the door; Stede crosses to the sideboard and pours them a nightcap. His hand only shakes a little with the memory of their second kiss. Ed sits on the couch, sandals discarded on the floor in front of him and one leg crossed underneath him. He’s still wearing that silly sack and he’s the most beautiful person Stede ever has or ever will see. 

When Stede hands Ed his drink, planning to go to his usual armchair, Ed reaches up and takes his hand. 

‘Sit with me?’ he asks, eyes wide. 

‘Yes,’ Stede says, the only syllable he gets out because he’s suddenly breathless. He fits his fingers between Ed’s and sits beside him, kicking off his boots. Ed draws their joined hands into his lap and leans his head against the back of the couch, his body tipped at an angle towards Stede. 

Stede drains his tumbler in one sip, then mirrors Ed’s position. ‘Can you -’

Ed takes his tumbler and stretches to place it on the little tray on the table so it can’t slide around too much with the rocking of the ship; then he does the same with his own drink. Stede reaches for Ed’s free hand as soon as he’s back in position on the couch. They sit for a moment in silence, looking at each other and holding hands in each other’s laps. 

The silence between them is comfortable, and warm, and Stede can feel the promise in the air between them, that their love is a strong thing, an unbreakable vow. He knows it, of course; he’s known it for months, but he feels like Ed’s starting to know it too, now. 

‘Tell me more about the cursed suit,’ Ed says, eyes sparkling. ‘You can’t just say there was a cursed suit and not tell me more.’

Stede winces. ‘It was really lovely, Ed. Red with gold trim - these long tails for swishing -’ 

Ed’s eyes get wider and wider as Stede describes every detail of it, from the marvellous handfeel of the fabric to the polished bronze buttons. 

‘And you let the crew talk you into getting rid of it?’ Ed asks. ‘Just - just like that?’

Stede nods sadly. ‘It felt like the captainly thing to do.’

‘No sketch?’ Ed asks. He’s squeezing Stede’s hands. ‘Not of you wearing it?’

‘No,’ Stede sighs. 

Ed looks as mournful as Stede feels. ‘What did you do with it?’

Stede starts to tell him, and as he’s talking, Ed sort of shimmies forward again - Stede stops talking instantly, everything in his head crashing like a wave onto a rocky shore - but Ed doesn’t kiss him again, instead nestles his head into the space between Stede’s neck and shoulder, and once his head is there, shimmies in a little closer, so that his weight starts to rest against Stede’s chest - Stede leans back against the chaise, careful, careful, terrified to move too fast and startle Ed away - Ed’s little collar rings and Stede reaches up gently and undoes the clasp with one hand, his fingers soft on Ed’s neck, then lets it drop to the floor - until he’s mostly reclining, and Ed’s sort of on top of him, and sort of curled around his side. Feeling bolder, Stede wraps his arms around Ed and tugs, and Ed scoots, and still Ed’s head stays touching Stede’s body, in fact he nestles in further, so his face is hidden and his beard and cheek and lips are pressed against the juncture of Stede’s neck and shoulder. 

Stede manages to finish the actually rather long story, and Ed asks questions, and laces the fingers of one of each of their hands together and holds them over Stede’s heart. 

‘Do you think it really was cursed?’ Ed murmurs finally, sleepily, when Stede’s told him everything he possibly can, and is lying there hoping he can think of something else to say, because he feels like his words are a magical spell and so long as he casts it Ed will stay just like this. Stede knows his bed will be cold and lonely now that he has the knowledge of Ed’s body pressed into his. 

‘I don’t think so,’ he mumbles, equally as sleepy. He feels like he’s lived three days in one, at least, and it’s all catching up with him. ‘I certainly don’t feel cursed right now.’

‘Cursed with me falling asleep on top of you.’

‘Not cursed,’ Stede whispers. ‘Opposite of cursed.’

Ed giggles, and doesn’t move, not even when Stede fumbles around on the back of the couch for the blanket and pulls it over them, not even when Stede shifts slightly so his ankle slots between Ed’s. If anything, Ed snuggles in closer, hooks Stede’s ankle with his foot and tugs more of his leg between his own. Stede winds the fingers of the hand at Ed’s back into the curled ends of his hair and shuts his eyes. 

For most of his life, Stede’s felt that to be loved by him would be a curse. Who could want Stede Bonnet’s heart, soft and overly sentimental as it is? Consequently, he’d kept it locked away, a pale shadow muted by layers of gauze. He’d believed he would never really feel love, had tried to fill his life with other things, had tried to run away because he was so unhappy with the life he’d been born into, and had somehow, against all odds, found a love greater than he ever could have imagined. 

Stede knows Ed loves him, but this is the first time he lets himself feel the full reality of it. He’s barely been able to think of their first kiss for fear of it vanishing under the weight of the long, dark years of his life before he ran away to sea. Tonight, he has double the number of kisses, and he can think about the second one as much as he likes, because Ed’s solid in his arms (really solid, actually; Stede’s going to wake up with his neck utterly fucked and his heart so full it will barely matter). 

For the first time, he can think beyond making this right. He can start to see - hazy but inevitable as the approaching horizon at dusk - the shape of what their love for each other can be: twin vines converging, entwining, growing forward into the sun. 

Ed draws their joined hands closer to himself and presses a long kiss to each of Stede’s knuckles. ‘Goodnight, Stede Bonnet,’ he whispers. 

Stede kisses the crown of Ed’s head. ‘Goodnight, Ed Teach.’