Chapter Text
In Stede’s defense, he has never claimed to be an attentive person.
In Stede’s defense, he was trying to follow a specific and very rare moth that had caught his attention and was only looking to observe it anyway, and he wasn’t in the business of capturing wildlife or any other creatures.
In Stede’s defense, it was extremely well-camouflaged and he didn’t notice it until he quite literally stumbled upon it in the brambles.
In Stede’s defense, when one comes across something that pretty and that fascinating, one can’t help but pick it up (gently!) to examine it.
In Stede’s defense, he didn’t know.
However, this defense would not be relevant in the world of supernatural creatures.
—
The woods are thick, almost oppressively so, and a section that Stede hasn’t explored yet since he moved into his isolated little cottage.
Still, he had seen a rare and elusive moth take off into the woods, and Stede had only ever seen a glimpse of one ten years ago—so he has to make an effort to go after it.
Deeper and deeper he ventures in, following the bright pinkish splotch of color flutter just out of his reach over and over again—landing briefly on a branch only to flutter away before Stede can take a proper look at it and confirm his sighting, maybe even get a sketch of its striking form!
He barely knows where he’s going, isn’t concerned at least, though he very well should be, as he’s going into a part that most humans—or at the very least, full-blooded humans—avoid.
Of course, Stede doesn’t often follow what most humans do anyway, even though he’s a full-blooded human himself.
Sometimes Stede wonders if he is human. Certainly he’d be more accepted if he actually is, but he’s never had that luxury in life.
He sighs. Well, such is life. It’s why he’s started new here anyway, even though his residence is far enough from town to be isolated and keep him from being a bother to others.
Another flash of pink shakes him from his thoughts! There! Through the briars!
It’s a bit of a sticky situation (emphasis on sticks) as he muscles through the briar, possibly ripping some of his clothing—but he’s very used to mending them by now.
Unfortunately, he doesn’t see the moth yet in this—
Clearing? Oasis? Whatever it is, Stede feels like he’s stepped into another world.
A pond is nestled against a cliff side, the rest of its banks fringed thickly with willows and more briars, with a faint dirt path cutting through.
Stede tiptoes forward, now less concerned with the moth than just where he might be. The leaves seem greener here—the air fresher—the wind gentler. His eyes flit all over the place, drinking as much in as possible. He picks his way to the little path and starts to gently push some willow boughs—
—and then he trips on something. Something soft and warm. Looking down, Stede finds at his feet a mass of dark feathers—mottled in shades from raven and ebony to slate gray and morning fog.
“Oh! I’m sorry!” Stede murmurs to the mass. “I didn’t see you there…whatever you are.” He stares at the feathery thing . “Goodness you’re gorgeous…I hope you don’t mind if I…”
Stede bends down and gingerly goes to pick up the feathery mass, gasping when he finds that it unfolds and drapes down like a cloak. The underside is a velvety, coppery tan material.
It’s like nothing Stede has ever seen before.
“What in the world…”
Splash!
Stede jerks his head toward the water, though unable to see it too well because of the vegetation, and hears more frustrated splashing.
And then a voice.
“Fuck— fuck! Someone—who took it? Where the fuck are you?!”
Still clutching the cloak-like thing, Stede is horrified to watch a man emerge from the water, though not before he angrily snatches a willow branch from the banks with a rustling snap and holds it in front of his waist. His eyes are blazing in rage, water streaming from his ( beautiful—shut up, Bonnet) silvery-ebony hair, and he stomps toward Stede with an anger that would make most others flee in terror, but only causes Stede to freeze in—probably terror as well, but also awe.
“ You! Give me that fucking skin! Fuck! How the fuck did you find me? Fucking hell—”
Stede barely registers the man snatching the feathery cloak from his hands and wrapping it around himself, the cloak seeming to drape perfectly around him as if it was made for him.
“Skin?” Stede manages to squeak, that having been the only word he’d registered.
The man huffs and scowls at Stede, skin crinkling around his glinting garnet eyes.
“Yeah, ‘s my fuckin’ skin. But I bet you already knew that, huh? Been waiting to fuckin’ catch me? Stalking me to find my secret pond?”
“S— your skin? Stalking?! I have no idea what you’re talking about!” Stede is surprised he manages to get this out coherently, he’s so utterly baffled.
The man seems to falter for a moment, but he’s still glaring daggers at Stede. “My fuckin’— skin. I’m a swan person, man. Do you really not know about us?”
What Stede really doesn’t know is whether he’s about to pass out or not.
“I—really? You are?”
Apparently, Stede’s total confusion is apparent enough to the man, because he rolls his eyes and nods. “Yup. And since you—fuckin’ stupidly, I might add—took my skin, I now have to do this.”
He pokes his hand out from the feathery cloak and holds it out for Stede.
Stede stares at it dumbly for a long moment.
The man grabs Stede’s hand and shakes it jerkily—he’s surprised at how warm his hand is, even if it’s damp—and quickly lets go.
“Jeez, it’s like pulling teeth with you fuckin’ humans.” Another sigh. “My name is Ed. Edward Teach.” He takes a slow, steady attempt at a breath, rolls his eyes, and asks, slow and measured like talking to a toddler: “And what’s your name?”
Ed meets Stede’s eyes and—oh, wow, they are quite pretty.
“Uh—Stede. Stede Bonnet.”
Ed’s mouth quirks in the tiniest smirk but otherwise maintains his steady glare on Stede.
“Well congrats Stede, we’re gonna have to get married now.”