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Ed hasn’t built a blanket fort since he was a boy. The first time had been his mum's idea when he’d been woken by a vicious storm raging outside their small cottage one night. He can still vividly remember the rain hammering against the windows, reminding him of small fists banging on the glass demanding to be let in. The lightning that bathed the room in an eerie glow and the thunder that sounded like cannons going off in the sky above. Ed hadn't been scared; he only agreed to build the fort to indulge his mum. If he happened to flinch at a noise, it was because it had taken him by surprise, that was all. Still, it had been nice when the two of them had huddled together once the fort was ready. It felt like they were wrapped up in their own little cocoon. Safe from harm or anything that wished them ill will.
The second fort Ed built was when a different storm raged through their home. This time in the form of his dad's temper. Ed was still only young but had already picked up the telltale warning signs of danger when his dad stumbled through the door. As his nostrils filled with the stench of ale and sweat, the fort was already taking shape. By the first angry shout, Ed was quickly crawling into the protective shell of the blankets. He curled up into a ball, covering his ears with his hands to try and block out the sounds of what came next. He only wished he could drag his mum into the fort with him too.
Now here was Ed, many years later, making a blanket fort on someone else's ship. He moves frantically around the captain's quarters, gathering up things to use. He tears blankets and pillows off the small bed, swearing under his breath as they get caught on the mattress. He strips cushions and throws off the sofas and adds them to the growing pile of blankets. He moves furniture around to use as a framework and starts to build. Humming away to himself now he has something to occupy his mind.
Once he's satisfied the fort is ready, Ed stands back to admire his handiwork. It's definitely his best one yet. He drops to his hands and knees and crawls inside, using a blue cushion as a door to shut the rest of the world out. He collapses onto the nest of blankets, buries his face in the pillows and deeply inhales the scents of lavender, citrus.. of Stede. He moans as if in pain and pulls a pillow from under him. Lies on his side holding the soft furnishing close to his chest. He squeezes it tightly. It isn't enough. He needs more. He's already stripped the cabin of anything saturated with Stede's scent, what else can he use?
The auxiliary wardrobe… there was bound to be something in there.
Memories of happier times haunt him as he runs a hand over the soft fabrics and lace hanging from rails. He grabs an armful of clothes and makes to leave. Stops in his tracks when he sees the robe decorated with birds of paradise hanging on the back of the door. It's as if it’s there waiting for Stede to return. For him to wear it as he sashays across the deck of the Revenge, not caring who sees. His eyes firmly on Ed as he approaches..
The clothes drop to the floor in a heap at Ed's feet. He slowly reaches out for the robe and takes hold of one of the sleeves. Lifts it to his face, gently rubbing his cheek against it like a cat. Why has Stede left him this way?
He starts to undress, peeling off the layers of leather, letting them pool over Stede's discarded clothes. He takes down the robe, slips one arm into a sleeve and then the other. Wraps the garment tightly around himself. Wanting it to touch as much of his body as possible. He wants the very essence of Stede to soak deep into his bare skin. For Stede's scent to seep into his pores so they are infused together in a way they have never been before.
Once he's back in the fort, Ed closes his eyes and tries to force himself to go to sleep. He desperately needs some respite from the pain. He's been hurt before, shot, stabbed, punched, but nothing comes close to this. It's a relentless ache that he can feel deep in his core, through to the very marrow of his bones. It's debilitating and he's given up trying to pretend that everything’s fine. The last couple of days putting on a show for the crew have bled him dry. He can't do it anymore. Can't put up with their endless questions about Stede. No, Ed doesn't know where Stede is, and how the fuck should he know if he's coming back? The worst is the mournful looks Buttons gives him whenever their eyes meet. Fuck, Ed's sad about the bird too. Karl was cool, he liked having him around. Now he was gone… and so was Stede. Maybe he should invite Buttons into the fort so they can share a rum and bond over their grief of losing a part of themselves. They might be able to help each other figure out what to do next? After all, you can't be a bird guy without a bird. And you can't be in love without a lover.
Love… who the fuck was Ed, thinking he could have something as pure as love? His mum was right; they weren't the kind of people that got to have beautiful things. And Stede was beautiful. So very beautiful, with his fancy suits, golden hair and a positivity that shone through him. He curses Stede for making him believe that things could be different, that he could be different. Life before Stede was dull and monotonous, but at least he’d managed to survive it. He's not sure he can say the same about life after Stede. He can't go back to the way things were. He hasn't got the energy. He's not sure how long the crew will let him live if he doesn't though. At least then it will all be over and he'll be given a sweet release. He wonders who would be the one to wield the fatal blow? Definitely not Pete, the way he looks at Ed as if he's in the presence of some kind of God. Maybe Jim… Ed's noticed the glares he gets off them when they think he's not looking. No, it would probably be someone from his own crew, Ivan or… Izzy. Fuck, what was he going to do about Izzy? He had sold them out to the English after all and needed to be punished. The English.. They'd come looking for him soon enough too.
Ed shouldn't be dealing with all this bullshit. He should be on his way to China by now, embarking on a new life with Stede. He wonders what cool names Stede has chosen for them. Hopes his is Jeff, he loves the name Jeff. He goes to shout out to Stede to ask… but then he remembers. It's so easy to forget in the confines of the fort, that Stede isn't there. That he isn't just sitting on the sofa reading a book, or at the table, poring over a map, plotting their next raid. Trying hard to contain his excitement at the thought of the next stage of their training. Ha… well at least Stede doesn't need that anymore. He's now a fully qualified pirate, having stolen the greatest treasure of all.. Blackbeard's heart. He'd reached into Ed's chest and ripped out the organ as it was still beating, before vanishing without a trace into the night. Ed can imagine it now, his heart mounted on a shiny display cabinet in some fancy big house. Stede standing beside it, a glass of champagne in one hand, proudly showing off his loot to his admirers as they ooh and ahh over his bravery. The sheer audacity of it all.
Well, Stede's welcome to his heart, Ed has no use for it now. He can't deprive The Gentleman Pirate of his moment of glory either. That moniker will need to be changed to something more suitable too. What kind of a gentleman stands someone up and leaves them waiting on a dock? It certainly wasn't becoming or very polite.
Ed sighs as he rolls onto his back. He wants to see Stede so very badly. It's why he'd headed back to the Revenge on the small rowing boat he'd stolen. With each stroke of the oars, Ed hoped Stede would be there standing on deck waiting for him. His face would light up, and he'd smile in delight as Ed hauled himself over the railings. They’d both laugh as Stede recounted his latest mishap that meant he had to escape without him. He knew it would be OK though and Ed would eventually find him. Still laughing, they would retire to Stede's cabin, make a toast with glasses of brandy and then kiss some more. No… he can't think about kissing Stede now. Can't let himself remember the feel or taste of Stede's lips on his. Ed moans as the pain of what he's lost and what he might never experience again becomes even more unbearable.
This was all his fault. He had come on too strong and too soon. He’d scared Stede away by confessing how he was feeling, exposing his soul in a way he had never done before. He got too caught up to even consider any consequences, or if Stede even felt the same. Has he built all of this up in his own head? Made it out to be more than what it was? No, Stede kissed him back and said that Ed made him happy. He said yes to running away to China. Hadn't there been a moment though when Ed thought he was going to turn him down? He needs to speak to the scribe, to Lucius, he was there on the day of the treasure hunt. He was the one who said Stede liked him. And that Ed liked him back. It wasn't Ed's fault; it was Lucius who had planted the seeds. Ed shakes his head, he knows he's just lying to himself now. He was done for the moment he saw Stede splayed out on the deck of the Spanish ship like a gutted fish. It was love at first stabbing.
His feelings for Stede are too profound to be one-sided. He must feel the same, he has too. Why isn't he here then? Is Ed making a mistake hanging on to the Revenge? Maybe he should just cut his losses. Dump Stede's crew on an island somewhere and put a lit torch to the mast made from the finest cherry wood from Brazil Stede is so proud of. It's what Blackbeard would do after all. Ed on the other hand…. Ed knows that Stede loves his crew and his ship. If he were to come back for anything, it would be for them.
Ed purses his lips as he thinks of all the different ways he would make Stede beg for forgiveness. He'd start off by acting all cool and aloof, he'd maybe even threaten Stede with a good maim. Yeah, as if Stede would buy that, he knows Ed would never hurt him. He'd have to make it more believable. He'd also have to stop himself from folding or throwing himself at Stede's feet at the first sight of him. Ed wonders if any of this will actually happen? If they'll ever be together again? The uncertainty is killing him. What if Stede is lying injured somewhere, or the English caught him trying to escape, and now he's facing the gallows alone. The thought of Stede hurt or in danger is worse than any pain Ed is feeling. He can't let himself go there. At least if he thinks Stede left him by choice, the anger it stirs acts as a distraction.
A yawn suddenly interrupts Ed's troubled thoughts. Tiredness has finally caught up with him. He buries his nose in Stede's robe, inhaling enough scent to last him through the night. Ed closes his eyes and hopes Stede is safe, no matter the reason for him leaving. He really hopes Stede misses him too.
“Fuck you, Stede Bonnet,” Ed murmurs as he slowly starts to fall asleep. “Come home.. please.”