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There are raised voices coming from the captain’s quarters, but Lucius isn’t really worried about interrupting anything. He doesn’t think that Iggy has been able to modulate his tone in his life, probably, and he does seem to be able to rile Blackbeard—Edward? He had said he wanted to be called Edward now, so Edward it is. Anyway, Iggy seems like he can rile Edward up like no one else. It’s what comes from working together for…an indeterminate amount of time. Lucius isn’t sure how long Iggy’s been part of Edward’s crew, but probably a good number of years. Maybe even the better part of a decade.
But anyway, whatever. They seem to know how to really push each other’s buttons, is what Lucius means. Iggy especially.
Listen, Lucius isn’t a captain—doesn’t want to be a captain actually, that’s too much responsibility. He quite likes just being summoned to write things down sometimes, and then pretending to look busy. So he isn’t a captain, and doesn’t want to be a captain, but if he were a captain, well…he doesn’t really see what a first mate like Izzy the Spewer does for Edward, is what he’s getting at. The man can wield a sword, sure, but what else does he bring to the table? Poor people management skills, no knowledge about weather or the sea or sailing or anything—he’s capable of remembering the date so…one half point for him? That’s not exactly impressive. He can’t regulate his emotions. He let Stede beat him in a sword fight! Fucking Stede! Because he got all pissy about Edward having a big fat crush on Stede.
Not to mention the whole turning them in to the English thing.
But something about this whole…weird dynamic must work, or Edward would have tossed Iggy overboard years ago, right?
So yeah, Lucius isn’t too concerned as he knocks on the door and doesn’t wait for anyone to respond.
There’s a bit of concern when he walks in on Iggy basically like…up in Edward’s face, a piece of paper shoved under his nose. He’s a little more concerned when Iggy snarls out, “This is Blackbeard! Not some namby pamby in a silk dressing gown pining for his—”
“Heyyyyyy,” Lucius says awkwardly. Two sets of eyes turn to him, one furious, the other…scared? Is Edward scared of fucking Iggy? Lucius clears his throat, looking between the two of them. Iggy’s got one hand clenched in Edward’s robe near his throat and Edward looks…frozen. “So…this is a weird vibe.”
“Spriggs.” Iggy lets go of Edward’s robe. He runs a hand back through his hair where it’s come out of its slicked back style. “Get the fuck out. I don’t remember requesting your services.”
“I’ve got some important information for Captain, actually,” Lucius says. Iggy’s hand is clenched on the paper, balled into a fist. Whatever was going on in here, Iggy’s pissed and Edward looks…looks like a little kid, actually, like his father’s screaming at him, and Lucius… Yeah, Lucius knows what it feels like to be afraid of your father, and to have daddy issues as a result and…fuck this whole thing. He’s not going anywhere. “Like, super important. Vital, even? But, yeah, Captain should definitely hear this right away, soon as possible.”
Edward opens his mouth to say something, but Dizzy Izzy gets there first. “Whatever news you have for Captain Blackbeard you can say in front of me,” he snaps. Jeez, the guy’s fucking pissy today. The last time Lucius saw him so keyed up was when he was stabbing Stede in the gut.
Well, look how well that worked out for him last time.
Lucius flicks his eyes to Edward, whose mouth has slammed back shut. He looks almost like he wants to melt into the woodwork.
“No, actually, it’s pretty specifically for Captain,” Lucius says with an over-the-top apologetic wrinkle of his nose. “Ivan said to make sure only the Captain heard it.”
It’s a little risky, pulling in another name on this, but Izzy respects Ivan—as much as he can respect anyone who isn’t himself or Blackbeard—the most out of everyone else on this ship. And Lucius has been working on Ivan a bit, heavy flirting, suggestive jokes, and he thinks Ivan will go along with it.
Iggy shifts his focus to Edward before nodding stiffly. He takes a step closer, proving Lucius’ earlier point that the man can’t quiet his voice for anything when he apparently tries to whisper, “This isn’t over, Eddie.”
Iggy gives Edward a long look before slamming his hand against Edward’s chest. Edward’s hand flies up reflexively, gripping the paper where Iggy pushes it into him, and then Iggy’s whirling around. He stalks to the door, purposefully bashing his shoulder into Lucius’ as he passes.
“Byeeeee,” Lucius says softly, smiling sweetly as Iggy shoots a glare back at him.
Lucius waits until he hears the door shut and heavy footsteps retreating before he turns around and flips the deadbolt to lock it. When he turns back, Edward is still standing there, hand clutching the crumpled paper against his chest. Where his expression was blank before, now it’s a mixture of dark and confused. Lucius doesn’t approach yet, not sure if this is a comforting situation or…god, he doesn’t know, a stab the next person who tries to touch you situation.
“Soooo,” he says, drawing out the word. “That looked, um…concerning.”
Edward startles at the sound of Lucius’ voice. He grabs the edges of the robe in each hand, still holding the paper, and crosses his arms, wrapping the robe tighter around himself. “It’s…whatever. Fucking nothing,” he says, forcibly blase. Lucius doesn't buy it for a second. “So what’s this super important news then?”
“Oh, that? Roach decided he was going to make some fancy finger sandwiches for the talent show. Oh, and Pete wanted you to know that he’s extremely talented and that you should pay extra close attention to his talent when it’s his turn.”
Edward stares at him for a long moment. “That’s… Is that it?” Lucius nods. “You said it was important. Only for my ears.”
“Yeah, well, Iggy was being a complete dick, wasn’t he. I had to get him out of here somehow.” Edward just looks at him, his expression inscrutable. “Is… Does he talk to you like that a lot?”
Edward lets out a humorless chuckle. “All the fucking time.” He shrugs. There’s a crate on the bed, full of what looks to be empty bottles as well as detritus from around the room. With a quick glance, Lucius can see that it’s much tidier than it had been earlier in the day. The blanket fort is still there, but things have been picked up, garbage tossed, knives pulled out of the table. “‘S just Izzy. Just how he is. He pushes me, gets me to get my shit together. Doesn’t let me get complacent, doesn’t let me go soft. There’s no Blackbeard without him, honestly.”
“Right…” Lucius raises his eyebrows skeptically. “And is that coming from you, or is that what Iggy says?” The frown on Edward’s face is enough of an answer. “‘Kay, so how long has he been working for you?”
Edward frowns in thought, lifting a hand to scratch at the stubble coming back in on his chin. “About…eight years now.”
“And you’ve been Blackbeard for, what, 15 years? 20?” Edward shrugs and nods. “So Blackbeard can and has existed without him. For longer than he’s been involved actually.”
“Yeah… S’pose so.”
“Um, okay…” Lucius takes a hesitant step closer. “First of all, I didn’t hear everything, obviously, but what I did hear was…way out of line. Second…that guy fucking sucks, babe.”
That shocks a huffed laugh from Edward. “He’s a fucking nightmare,” he says, his shoulders relaxing, replaced with a bone-deep weariness. He rubs his hand over his face before turning to sink onto the bed, curled over himself. The glasses in the crate clink lightly as his weight shifts them around.
Lucius feels some of the tension in his own body loosen. Doesn’t seem like he’s in danger of imminent stabbing, so he chances an approach, making sure to be deliberate in telegraphing his movements. “Can I sit?” he asks and Edward glances up, then nods with a shrug. Lucius picks up the crate and sets it on the floor by the side of the bed. “Cool. Oh my god,” he groans as he sits. “What the fuck, this bed is so fucking comfortable. Leave it to Stede to have a bed on his boat that’s more comfortable than, like, every other bed I’ve ever slept on in my life put together.”
Edward chuckles. “Yeah, fucking lunatic.” His face goes incredibly soft as his hand smooths across the silk sheet.
Lucius watches him for a moment. Jesus, the guy’s down bad. His eyes have that faraway look that Lucius used to see on his mom’s face, once his shitty dad skipped town and she found someone who was actually good for her.
Lucius scoots back, turning to face Edward and criss-crossing his legs. He leans forward, elbows on his knees. “Okay, dish.”
Edward frowns at him. “Dish?”
“Yeah, you know. Give me the juicy details,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. “You and Stede. Like, I know something went down and he left, but, like. Before that. Did you…?” He trails off suggestively with a grin and a couple pumps of his eyebrows.
It takes a few moments to hit, and then Edward’s flushing and, okay, yeah, that’s pretty adorable actually. Adorable isn’t a word that Lucius ever thought he would apply to fucking Blackbeard, but here we are.
“What? No. No, we didn’t… Not that.” He twists toward Lucius a bit, though still facing out into the room. Just gotta reel him in, Lucius thinks. Gentle. Try not to spook him. Like the guy’s a fucking horse or something.
“Okay, okay, so you didn’t…you know. Buuuuut…” Lucius lets the opening hang in the air.
Edward sighs, eyes flicking around the room, and then he turns fully toward Lucius. He folds one of his legs beneath him, the other dangling off the side of the bed. Fucking bingo.
“We kissed,” Edward confides, lowering his voice, like they’re at a sleepover and talking about the boys they have crushes on.
“Yeah?” Lucius grins. “What are we talking here? Tongue? Passionate? Gentle?”
“Soft,” Edward says with a shy smile. He looks down. His fingers splay on the sheets. “Just. Soft. Sweet.” He looks back up at Lucius and Lucius…shit. Oh my god. God help him, he feels his heart give an empathetic twist at the sheer force of love in his eyes. “No one’s ever…”
Fuck. Fuck. This is more serious than Lucius thought. Like, everyone could see Blackbeard and Captain were fucking…disgustingly besotted with each other, but. Shit. This is, like, some real, real thing. Like soulmate level shit here.
“That sounds lovely,” Lucius says. He reaches forward to squeeze Edward’s knee.
“It was,” he agrees. “It was lovely. A lovely kiss.” His smile fades slowly.
Lucius gives his knee another squeeze. “It means a lot to you,” he says softly. Edward nods. Moisture gathers at his eyes, his chin starting to wobble the way it did back in the blanket fort. “Oh, sweetie. That’s good.”
Edward looks at him, startled. “Good?”
“Good,” Lucius confirms. “Because you care. You let yourself be vulnerable. You had a chance to try for something amazing, and you went for it, even though it might hurt. That’s pretty fucking strong, I think.”
“Yeah, well…” Edward pulls his legs up, resting his chin on his knees. “Apparently other people think I’d be better off dead, so.”
Um. What?
“What?” Lucius asks.
Edward’s eyes flick to Lucius’, just for a moment, and then he seems to register what he just said. He shakes his head, scrunching his face in the way Lucius has noticed he does when he’s trying to cover something up. “What? Nothing. I didn’t say anything.”
“Um, no, yeah, you did.” Lucius scoots forward a few inches. “Is that what he said to you? Iggy?”
Edward shrugs, staring very intently at a wrinkle in one of the sheets. “Might have. Whatever. Doesn’t matter.” His fingers tighten on the paper he’s still holding.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Edward flinches and Lucius has to take a deep breath to calm himself. Right. There’s clearly some trauma here. Edward’s already in a rough spot, Lucius doesn’t need to make things worse. “I’m not mad at you,” he clarifies, gentling his voice. “But if that little rat has been in here telling you to fucking kill yourself over this, then…”
He stops, rewinding back to what he’d overheard when he first came into the cabin. This is Blackbeard! Not some namby pamby in a silk dressing gown pining for his—
He has to focus very hard not to make his voice shake. “That whole thing… Was that about you feeling sad?”
“Yeah, well… About me feeling anything really. Izzy’s not much for…for feeling anything except for…rage.”
“Yeah he is a fucking ball of rage,” Lucius remarks. “And hate. And spite.”
Edward shrugs. “Just how he is.”
“Doesn’t give him the right to treat you and everyone around him like shit.”
Edward looks up sharply. God, his eyes take up about half his face, they’re so wide and vulnerable. This might be the first time Lucius is seeing the real, real Edward, not Blackbeard, or even Edward Teach. Just Edward.
Is this what Stede saw?
“Guess I never really paid attention to how he treats the crew. Well, I never… He told me it wasn’t a captain’s job to deal with the crew, that was the first mate, so until…until the Revenge I just kind of…kept to my quarters. Izzy’s pretty much the only one I would talk to.”
“Okay, hang on.” There’s about five thousand red flags waving in Lucius’ head right now. “So he keeps you isolated from everyone else but him. He tells you that there’s no Blackbeard without him. He yells at you for feeling anything other than what he thinks is appropriate, and he said you’re better off dead than being sad you got dumped?”
“I didn’t get dumped,” Ed says morosely, sounding exactly like someone who just got dumped. His fingers are tapping at his legs, clearly anxious, and clearly trying to keep it tamped down. “But, I mean, I guess if you put it all like that it’s kind of…”
“Extremely fucked up,” Lucius finishes for him. “Like I get that he’s putting on this ultra masculine, hyper violent and aggressive facade, probably because he’s covering up some deeply, deeply internalized homophobia… Like, dude has issues, and I get it,” Lucius says, punctuating issues with a limp hand gesture, raising his eyebrows. “We all have issues. But not all of us are bullies. Like, he gets off on fear and control. And that’s not okay.”
Edward hunches his shoulders, tightening his arms around his legs. “What… I…” He buries his face in his knees. His hands grip his elbows, knuckles going white. “I mean, what do I do, man? He’s…”
Lucius’ heart is fucking breaking. He’d seen some of Edward’s vulnerabilities, in the blanket fort that’s still set up near the library. But even then, there had been a wall between them. Edward hadn’t been wiling—been able?—to admit that he was the one who was struggling, using the facade of a fictional character going through a hard time. But that’s all gone now, and so is all the bravado, the Blackbeard mask, the aloof and distant and dangerous pirate captain. All of that was just armor, Lucius realizes, hammered into place to protect this new person, tucked into a ball on the bed. This soft, scared, fragile person who Lucius wants to just…just scoop up in his arms and wrap a blanket around and tell him that everything is going to be okay.
How could anyone see this person and react with anything other than care and compassion?
He swallows, clears his throat. “I’m gonna touch your hand, unless you don’t want me to,” he says gently. “You can say no.” He waits for a moment, and Edward nods after a pause. Lucius scoots closer, laying a gentle hand on one of Edward’s. “You know, most people would just be like, ‘Heyyyyyy, you’re the captain so just tell him to get back in line or that’s it,’ but you guys don’t really have what I would call a…um, conventional captain and first mate relationship, sooooo…”
There’s a muffled huff of dry laughter. “Yeah, you could fucking say that.”
Lucius squeezes his hand. “Did you know, we were about 10 seconds away from tossing him overboard when you came back?”
That makes Edward look up. “Were you really?”
“Had him all tied up and everything, carrying him to the railing.” Fuck, they’d been so close. The sight of Iggy tied up, being heaved to the railing, begging for another chance lives in his brain as one of the most delightful memories in his life.
“Shit, I didn’t even notice,” Edward says, voice low. His expression falls again, eyes downcast. “And I fucked it all up.”
“Hey,” Lucius says, giving his hand another squeeze. “That’s not what I’m saying. I just mean…you’re not alone, you know? We take care of each other on this ship.”
Edward looks back up at him, his eyes wide. He looks…scared. “Even…” His voice comes out as a croak. He swallows and Lucius realizes his eyes are shiny with unshed tears. “Even monsters like me?”
“Whoa, okay.” Lucius moves until he’s sitting next to Edward. He slips his arm around his shoulders. Somewhere in the back of his mind, his self preservation instinct is screaming to be careful. This is fucking Blackbeard he’s hugging, he’s fucking hugging Blackbeard.
But that voice is being drowned out by the very obvious fact that this—Edward—isn’t Blackbeard. This is just a man who’s been hurt, who’s been treated badly, who hates himself for doing things he didn’t want to do to survive.
“You’re not a monster. You’re…just a person.”
Edward shakes his head. His voice is choked as he whispers, “Maybe Izzy’s right. Maybe I should be dead. Maybe I should just…” He shakes his head again, letting his forehead fall to his knees. He sniffs, his shoulders tensing. Lucius is going to give him the grace of pretending like he doesn’t know Edward is crying. “I’ve done horrible things.”
“Well, sure, who hasn’t?” Edward looks up, startled and questioning. Lucius shrugs. “We’ve all done horrible things on this ship. Roach and Frenchie like to torture shitty racist naval officers. Jim murdered someone and Oluwande helped them get away. I’ve broken up like…way more than my share of marriages. Hell, Stede abandoned his family to come out here. But we don’t hurt each other. Not purposefully anyway. Not maliciously.” Lucius rubs Edward’s arm softly. “We take care of each other, because we care about each other. We care about you.”
Almost as if on cue, voices lift from outside, from out on deck. They’re calling for Edward, calling for another song, to join them, and the calls morph into chants of, “Ed-ward! Ed-ward!”
Lucius raises his eyebrows pointedly, as if to say, See?
“We care about you,” he says again, because it seems like Edward needs to hear it.
The face journey he goes on is crazy. Confusion to disbelief to denial to desperate hope until finally he seems to crumble inwards as his expression turns to tearful relief. He sags against Lucius without warning. His head drops to Lucius’ shoulder, face turned in against the fabric of Lucius’ shirt. Lucius tightens his arm around Edward’s shoulders, bringing the other up to pull him into a more solid hug. He can feel Edward’s shoulders shake as he cries silently, broken off sobs stifled and smothered in a way that feels too familiar to Lucius.
He rubs Edward’s back, tucks Edward’s face in against his neck, and lets him cry.
—
Things are just beginning to get good with Pete when the door to the storage closet bursts open. A paper is shoved into Lucius’ face accompanied by a growled, “What the fuck is this?”
“A blow job?” Lucius offers just as Pete pops off him. “I don’t know, seemed pretty obvious, but maybe no one’s ever wanted to touch your tiny little rat dick so…”
“Want me to keep going, babe?” Pete asks, completely unconcerned at the interruption.
“Nah, babe, maybe in a bit, but thanks.” Mournfully, Lucius tucks himself away. To be honest, the sight of Iggy’s snarling face is more than enough to soften him right up, anyway.
“Not that,” Iggy hisses. He brandishes the paper. “This.”
“Oh. Oh, shit, my bad.” Lucius wrinkles his nose. “Can you not read? It’s okay, Jim and I are the only ones on the crew who can read, there’s nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I can fucking read,” Iggy grits out between clenched teeth. “I mean what the fuck do you fucking think you’re doing with this? ‘Notice of termination, effective immediately’? Forging Blackbeard’s signature? When he fucking finds out about this—”
“He wrote it.”
Iggy snaps his mouth shut and they’re left blissfully free of his rough voice for a few seconds until he snaps, “What?”
“He wrote it,” Lucius repeats. “Well, okay, he dictated it, and I wrote it because that’s my job. Scribe, hello!” He gives Iggy a bitchy finger wave.
For possibly the first time that Lucius has seen Iggy looks uncertain. He’s seen Iggy disappointed, threatened, defeated, but never this kind of doubt peeking through. His mouth opens once, twice, his brows furrowed.
It only lasts for a moment, though, and then his ever-present scowl is back. “You’re fucking lying.”
“We can go ask Edward right now, if you want.”
“His name is fucking—“
“Izzy. Stop.”
Edward’s voice is firm. Iggy freezes and then turns slowly. Edward is behind him, back in his leather jacket, but with a soft cotton shirt and trousers rather than his full leather getup. His hair is loose and looks soft, waves framing his face, beard coming back in.
“Boss—“
Edward holds up his hand and Iggy stops. Lucius sidesteps past him, pulling Pete along as well, slipping out of the closet Iggy’s been blocking them into. Lucius leans his shoulder against the wall, arms crossed. Pete wraps his arms around Lucius’ waist, chin hooking on Lucius’ shoulder. Iggy looks between the three of them, a casual but still undeniably united front.
Iggy’s mouth turns down into a sneer. “He’s got into your head, hasn’t he?” he says, his eyes flicking to Lucius for a moment before back to Edward. “He’s used his fucking wiles on you, boss, just like fucking Bonnet, and you’re too weak to do anything about it!”
“Aww,” Lucius pouts. “Sad I haven’t used my wiles on you yet?”
Iggy rounds on him, finger jabbing at his chest. “You shut your fucking mouth, you—”
“Izzy,” Edward interjects firmly. “Enough. You’ve obviously got your termination letter, so you need to go. You’re fired.”
Iggy’s face drains of color and he stumbles back like the words are a punch to the gut. That uncertainty is back on his face as he turns back to Ed. “You…you can’t be serious. Edward—”
“Oh, so it’s ‘Edward’ now, is it?” Edward asks, raising his eyebrows. “It’s fine when it’s you, right? When it’s on your terms. When you’re trying to keep yourself in my good graces. But gods forbid anyone else should see me as anything other than a violent, vicious monster.”
“Wh—” Iggy verbally flails for a moment as he desperately searches for something to say. “What the fuck has this fucking snake been telling you, Edward?” Iggy gestures wildly in Lucius’ direction.
“Oh, you know actually I think snakes with their whole, you know, this…” Lucius makes a slithering motion with his arm, “is quite a fun energy, so thanks, thank you for that.”
Iggy doesn’t even bother responding, which honestly is pretty impressive restraint, Lucius has to hand it to him. “I’ve done everything for you, Edward. Kept the crew in line, followed your every fucking whim, helped you build up your name, and this is the thanks I get?”
“I built my name,” Edward says. His voice is low, controlled as he takes a single step forward. “You rode my coattails and did everything you could to convince me I needed you. That Blackbeard couldn’t exist without you. But the truth is, Blackbeard existed long before you. You said it yourself. You were honored to work with the great Blackbeard.”
Iggy looks torn between shrinking back and going on the offensive. Lucius doesn’t envy the guy, even if he doesn’t like him. Edward’s honestly a pretty gentle soul at heart, especially when compared to your average pirate, but when the shit hits the fan… Well, he didn’t become Blackbeard by letting his crew walk all over him. Iggy stands his ground though, his hands balled into fists at his side. He’s still got the notice, crumpled up in his hand now.
“You’re not Blackbeard,” Iggy hisses back. “Not now, and I don’t fucking know if you ever were. You’re pathetic. Soft. You would have crashed and burned years ago if it weren’t for me. You need me, Edward.”
“No,” Edward says simply, “I don’t. I’ve never fucking needed you. You’ve treated me like shit and I’m done. So leave.”
Iggy stares at him for a moment before letting out a sharp laugh. “Fine. Fucking fine. Make me the bad guy, when everything I’ve ever done has been for you.”
“It’s been for you,” Edward shoots back. You wouldn’t know it if you weren’t looking for it, but Lucius can hear the slight tremor in his voice. He’s been doing so well, finally standing up for himself, not letting Dizzy Izzy spin and twist the narrative to make it out like he’s the victim here. “It’s always been for you, and the power that comes with being my first mate. You’ve been using me, Iz, and it’s over. Just go. Just leave, and let me just be Edward.”
Iggy lets out another humorless laugh. “Fine. Good fucking riddance.” He takes a step closer, grabs the lapels of Edward’s jacket and hauls him in closer. “This isn’t over. Edward had better watch his fucking step.”
He doesn’t move for a moment, letting the threat fall heavy on Edward’s shoulders. Lucius can see it, in the hunch of his shoulders, the thick way he swallows. Finally Iggy releases him and turns to stalk off down the hall, presumably to gather his things. As soon as he’s disappeared behind a corner, Edward lets out a long breath. He sags into the wall, letting it drop with a dull thunk against the wood.
Lucius pats Pete’s arms, a clear signal to let go, and takes the few steps over to Edward. “You did good,” he says, laying a reassuring hand on Edward’s shoulder. “That was the hard part. Now you let us take care of the rest.”
Lucius squeezes Edward’s shoulder and Edward nods, a grateful smile flashing on his tired face for just a moment.
(Art by Livvy, commissioned by Rowan)
—
The entire crew gathers to watch Izzy leave. He’s in as foul a mood as he ever is, loudly gathering his things, slamming his cabin door, throwing his bags into the dinghy, all at a performative volume to let everyone know exactly how pissed off he is. The crew is not-so-gently ribbing him, shouts of “Shitty sailing with you!” and “Try not to drown on your way out!” and just a simple “You’re a dick!” from Pete. Edward is watching the proceedings from the quarterdeck, one hand on the railing in front of the ship’s wheel, his expression flat and inscrutable.
As Izzy’s tossing his final bag over the railing, it landing with a hard thud in the dinghy, Lucius breaks from the crew, approaching and leaning his hip against the railing. Izzy gives him one disgusted look. “Fuck off.”
“Oh, I will, gladly,” Lucius says. He twists his lips into the smirk he used the first time he fucked Izzy over, made him run with his tail between his legs. “But first I just thought you should know if you ever come back or, you know, send the English, or the Spanish, or any other kind of authority, after us, again, or if you try to come after Edward, you’re going to have to deal with us.”
Iggy rolls his eyes with a sardonic smile. “If that’s supposed to be a threat, it’s not exactly working coming from you, Spriggs.”
“Oh, yeah, no, we both know I’m not really one for inflicting pain or any of that yucky stuff.” Lucius scrunches his nose, making a disgusted sound. “But that lot?” He points over his shoulder with his thumb. The crew has broken into a raucous version of Dead Horse, Izzy clearly standing in as the “dead horse” to be thrown overboard. “We were this close to tossing you overboard, and I can guarantee,” Lucius says, straightening up and taking another step forward to tower over Izzy, “that if you try to fuck us again, you’ll hit the water, and this time it’ll probably be in pieces.”
Lucius holds Izzy’s stare for a long moment, one that seems to stretch into forever. It feels like that first time, when Dizzy Izzy had tried to blackmail and threaten him into submission, and just like last time, Lucius isn’t about to back down. Izzy sucks in a breath, eyes narrowed and mouth turned down into a deep scowl. “You’re a fucking plague, Spriggs, and I only wish I could be there when everyone realizes what a rancid fucking rat you are.”
Lucius lets his smirk grow. Like his own brain hasn’t been saying worse things about himself since he was a child. Lucius has gotten pretty fucking good at ignoring that kind of shit. “Sure, babe. Have a great trip.” He ducks down before Izzy can react and kisses his cheek, straightens and ruffles his hair. “Byeeeeeee.”
Lucius practically skips off, back into Pete’s waiting arms. “You’re incredible, babe,” Pete says, reeling him in for a kiss.
“Thanks, babe.” Lucius grins.
The celebration goes on for several hours. There’s food and alcohol and singing and dancing. At some point Wee John brings out some fireworks he had stored away and they set them off, cheers and shouts echoing out across the water.
Edward disappears into the captain’s cabin early on, Lucius notices, and he doesn’t come back. When Lucius finds a spare moment to slip away, he knocks, waiting for the quiet, “Come in.”
Edward is sitting on the bed, curled up into a tight ball with his legs pulled up to his chest, arms circling them tightly. “Hey, babe,” Lucius says gently. “How are we doing?”
Edward shrugs. Lucius closes the door behind him and walks to the bed, sitting on the edge. He waits. He can tell that Edward is processing, which, yeah, fair. A ton of shit has happened in the span of a few days. Anyone would be processing through that.
Edward sucks in a quick breath, burrowing his chin in the space between his knees and chest. “Is it fucked up that I feel…guilty?”
And god, yeah, that’s…that’s a question, isn’t it?
“Depends on why you feel guilty, I think,” Lucius says.
“I don’t even fucking know, man,” Edward says desperately. “For…for not being who I was supposed to be? Who Izzy wanted me to be? For not giving him another chance? For kicking him off the ship like that when he’s…he was right, he’s part of the reason I am what I am. He kept me focused. He didn’t let me get complacent.”
“Okay, one, you gave him many chances and what did he do? Try to kill your boy—your friend. Then sent the English after you. Basically tried to buy you from them. Had us mutinying within like 18 hours of his captaincy. And then told you you’re better off dead than being yourself.”
Edward is staring out the window, watching the waves as they gently rock the ship. “But isn’t that what this ship is all about? Giving people the chance to change and grow and become better?”
“Not at the cost of your own health.” Lucius pulls both feet unto the bed, crossing them at the ankles. “Maybe Iggy is capable of change, maybe he can become a less shitty person, but it is not your responsibility to be his punching bag while—if—he ever figures it out.”
Edward sighs, still staring out the window. “What was two?”
“What?”
“Well, you said ‘one’ before, so what’s two?”
“Oh, two.” Lucius thinks back to their conversation. Right. Right. “Two, even if you’re right and Iggy is partially responsible for Blackbeard, so what? You don’t want to be Blackbeard anymore, right? It doesn’t matter what he wants you to be. All that matters is who you want to be.”
Edward digs his chin deeper into his knees. His shoulders hunch and he keeps pointedly staring outside. “And what if I don’t know who I want to be?”
“Then you’ve got time to figure it out.”
Edward finally looks at Lucius then. His eyes are all big again and holy shit, if they keep up with these talks, Lucius is going to end up with a fucking weird thing for big vulnerable eyes shimmery with tears. “Just like that?”
“Just like that,” Lucius says with a shrug.
Edward nods thoughtfully and he looks back out the window, but his shoulders relax and his chin finally makes an appearance, resting on his knees.
—
It’s only another day before a dinghy is bumping against the side of the ship. They’ve been having a rest day, just to recuperate after the drama of the whole getting captured by the navy, their captain nearly being killed, Blackbeard taking the Act of Grace, their captains disappearing together, one returning a few days later without his beard and with a freshly broken heart, and the expulsion of said captain’s first mate.
It’s been kind of a hell of a week, honestly.
So Lucius is snuggled up with Pete below deck, Pete snoring and drooling on Lucius’ bare chest, Lucius mentally memorizing the planes of his face, his body, committing them to memory to draw later, when he has the use of his arms back. Their peace is interrupted by shouts up on deck. Lucius can’t make out all of what’s being said, but he definitely makes out the words dinghy and he’s back!
Lucius groans, tapping Pete on the shoulder a few times. “Gotta get up, babe,” he says. Pete stirs with a groan, taking a moment before rolling off Lucius and onto his side. “I swear to god if this is Iggy…”
He kisses Pete before getting up, pulling his shirt back on and straightening the rest of his clothes. “Be right behind you,” Pete says blearily.
Grumbling, Lucius makes his way back up on deck, mentally preparing to bitch out an ex-first mate. But it isn’t Iggy climbing over the railing, sunburned and clearly exhausted.
“Captain?”
Stede looks up as his feet hit the wood of the deck. His hair is messy, for him, but still annoyingly beautiful, windblown and pushed back out of his face. He’s dressed plainly, just a white shirt, open at the collar down to his breastbone—what the fuck, that’s a good look for him—and plain breeches tucked into boots.
The first words out of his mouth are, “Did Ed come back?”
Lucius exchanges glances with Roach and Oluwande, the only other people on deck. “Uh, yeah, he’s in the captain’s cabin, I think. But, captain—”
“No time to talk, Lucius,” Stede snaps, his focus already on the door to the cabin. “I need to see Ed.”
“Yeah, captain, I don’t really think he’ll be thrilled to see you.”
Stede looks at Lucius with such a genuine regret that it nearly makes Lucius take a step back. “I know. I know that. But I need to see him, to explain… I’ll do whatever it takes—”
“Stede?”
The four of them turn at the voice coming from the door to the captain’s cabin. Edward is standing in the doorway with a look of astonishment. He’s back in the depression robe, over a shirt and breeches this time, but barefoot. His hair is pulled back in a low, loose bun. And he’s doing that big eye thing again.
“Ed,” Stede says softly, and jesus christ, the way he says it is like a fucking caress.
Lucius has seen Edward cry a lot in the last week, so he can tell that he’s about five seconds away from breaking down. “You came back.”
“I never should have left.” Edward swallows thickly and Stede takes a cautious step forward. “Please, can we talk?”
Lucius feels like he’s watching a match of that weird tennis game the rec room is set up for, his head turning between Edward and Stede as they talk.
Edward stares, and then nods once, and the joy and relief that blossoms on Stede’s face is like… Yeah, like Lucius had the thought talking to Edward that whatever this thing between him and Stede is…intense and real and cosmic, and now it’s so obvious that it’s like that for Stede too.
“Thank you,” Stede says, already striding across the deck. “Thank you, Ed.”
And, fuck, Stede is seriously fearless, because he’s pulling Edward in for a tight hug without a second thought and Edward hesitates before hugging back. Lucius catches one last glimpse of his face, eyes shiny with tears, before he tucks it into Stede’s neck. They disappear inside, the door shutting firmly behind them, and the tension on deck breaks.
“Soooo,” Roach says, “how long until they’re fucking, do you think?”
Lucius snorts. “Like, 20 minutes.”