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The Revenge's cannons don't tend to see much action.
Ed remembers flashes of the last time, even through the gravy-soaked haze that followed. Remembers dragging the cannon across the deck, bare feet scrambling for purchase. Remembers taking aim, torch flickering wildly in the driving rain. He never fired, in the end, but the cannonball found its mark all the same.
Now cannon fire illuminates Stede's mouth on his, their bodies pressed together and fingers intertwined. Flashes of purple and gold bear witness as every last barrier between them falls away.
And this time, when oblivion comes, it's so much sweeter.