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It’s the aftermath of another successful raid – the loot has been successfully carried over to the Revenge and they’ve sailed on, leaving the unfortunate merchant vessel behind with nothing aboard but the crew and some rather unsavory looking dry beans and stale bread for rations (Stede’s not a monster, he’ll have you know; he made sure they had enough food to keep them until they reach the nearest port). The crew is joyfully passing around a (surprisingly nice) bottle of rum, unpacking the crates and barrels and dividing up the findings into things they can sell or calling dibs on the things they wish to keep personally. Ed and Stede are wandering between the small groups, scoping out their prizes and grinning at each other like loons. Things have been absolutely lovely ever since Stede and the crew caught up with Ed and the Revenge . Tense greetings dissolved into tearful reunions remarkably quickly, Izzy and the remnants of Ed’s old crew were deposited (kindly but firmly) at the nearest port, and the legend of Blackbeard was retired at last. The Revenge continued to pirate and pillage under a new flag – one collaboratively created by the crew, Edward included.
Speaking of, this is proving to be a fantastic haul, enough to cover all their regular operating expenses and then some. Ed’s already whispering into Stede’s ear about his plans to rent them a room in a nice inn (with a large bed) next time they dock in a semi-decent city. It’s rowdy, loud, and cheerful – Stede wouldn’t trade it for the world.
There’s a particularly loud whoop from across the deck as Oluwande cracks open a box: “Oh shit! Captains, you’ll want to come take a look at this!” He’s grinning ear to ear as Stede and Ed (as well as the rest of the crew) approach and peer down into the crate, where Jim is pushing aside straw and paper packing material to reveal a stunning array of sterling silver goods. “Oh, wow ,” Stede breathes, “This is incredible! Come, let’s unpack it and have a closer look.” They find each piece marked with a distinct stamp, matching the one inked on the outside of the wooden crate – this must all be the work of a single, talented silversmith.
They unpack several large serving dishes, complete with utensils, which Roach immediately claims for the kitchens. A handful of small decorative figures is next, which they unanimously vote to sell, followed by an absolutely delightful tea service (which, of course, Stede sets aside for himself – the perks of captaincy). A smaller box containing a variety of fine silver jewelry is passed around and nearly everyone gets a new earring, ring, or necklace – the leftovers get placed in the pile to sell. Finally, all that remains are two small packages, tucked in the very bottom of the crate. Oluwande reaches for one, opening it and pulling out…a small silver goblet. “Huh,” he remarks aloud, “That’s weird; there’s something written on it. And it’s pretty small for a wine glass – plus, don’t these usually come in sets?”
“They do,” confirms Stede, reaching to take it from Oluwande’s outstretched hand, “Are you sure there’s not another box in there?”
“Just one more, and it’s only got a set of candlesticks inside.”
Stede turns the small cup over in his hands, carefully inspecting it. It is a touch on the small side, compared to what he normally sees, but it’s certainly not tiny. It’s also covered in intricate engravings; a delicate depiction of leaves and flowers encircle the base, while vines heavy with grapes twine their way up the stem and around the base of the cup. It’s a stunning piece of work. Oluwande is correct, there is writing etched around the rim, but Stede can’t quite make it out. He pulls his reading glasses from his jacket pocket to perch them on his nose – ah. “Well, you’re quite right; there is something written on it, but I’m afraid I can’t say what it is. It’s not in any language I recognize. I wonder where this vessel was coming from?”
“England, so far as I can tell,” offers Lucius, “the crew manifest and everything else was written in good ‘ol Queen’s English.”
Stede turns to peer at Ed over the top of his spectacles, only to find him absolutely rooted to the spot, staring at the cup with a complicated mix of emotions on his face. In fact, if Stede didn’t know better, he’d say Ed rather looked like…like he might cry?
Ed reaches out, wordlessly, and takes the silver goblet from Stede’s hand. The way he handles it is downright reverent, and the whole crew is briefly stunned into silence as they watch him contemplate the object. It can’t be more than a minute or so, but it feels like an eternity passes. Finally, Ed breaks the silence, his voice barely more than a whisper: “It says ‘Creator of the fruit of the vine.’”
Stede is momentarily stunned: “Edward! I thought you couldn’t read!”
“Can’t read English – this is Hebrew.” He’s holding the goblet gently, as if it’s made of glass and not silver. “Borei pri hagafen. It’s a kiddush cup.”
Black Pete interjects, “No way that’s for kids! S’ too fancy, even for spoiled little rich brats.”
“Kiddush , not ‘kids’, mate” Ed corrects, with a laugh. “For Shabbat.” The crew is staring at him, confusion writ clearly across their faces. “It’s, ah, it’s a Jewish ritual.” He continues, “My mum had one like this. Not quite as fine, of course, but still…beautiful.” He seems lost in thought for a moment, running his thumb lightly over the engraved letters, until he suddenly looks up at Oluwande. “You said there were candlesticks?”
“Yeah, boss.” Oluwande pulls them from the crate, holding them up so the sun can glint off the delicately wrought silver.
They’re not as tall as most other candlesticks Stede has seen, and each one can only hold a single candle (which seems perhaps a little impractical, in his opinion). But when Stede reaches to take them from Oluwande, he realizes that they’re also elegantly engraved – with the same leaf and floral motif that’s around the base of the cup. “They’re part of a set!”
“Yeah,” Ed confirms, “You’d need both.”
“These are also part of…er, Shabbat ?” Stede pronounces the word carefully, mirroring Ed as closely as he can.
“Yep. Every Friday night. First you light the candles,” he says, gesturing to the candlesticks. “Then you bless…bless the children.” He falters a little here, looking emotional for a moment before quickly regaining his composure and continuing. “Then you bless the wine and the bread. Then you share a meal! It’s, ah…it’s nice.”
“Sounds kinda like our crew family dinners!” Wee John volunteers, “Just with, ya know, a few more steps.”
“Yeah!” Ed grins. “A lot like crew dinners, actually!”
Stede gently places the candlesticks back in their smaller box, making sure to pack them carefully with straw so they won’t get dented when things shift around on the ship. “Let’s take these and the cup back to our quarters, hmm?” Ed nods, still smiling down at the goblet. “Yeah, alright.”
With the contents of the silversmith’s crate entirely distributed, the crew scatters back to their prior unpacking and sorting tasks. Stede carries the goblet and candlesticks back to their room, tucking them safely into the drawer of his writing desk. He can’t stop picturing the look that was on Ed’s face while he was holding the kiddush cup; Stede felt like he had glimpsed a part of his lover that he’d never seen before. They’ve discussed their childhoods, occasionally, but that was primarily a time in their respective lives that was dominated by unhappiness. In general, they both prefer to let the past be past, and instead focus on the future they’re getting to build together. But…if this is a part of Ed’s past that he feels positively about – treasures, even – then Stede absolutely wants to honor that. He wants to hear everything Ed is willing to share.
*****
Later that evening, after all the loot has been unpacked and a careful ledger has been made, Ed and Stede are back in the captains’ quarters winding down for the evening. Stede is pouring a cup of tea (from his lovely new tea set, of course) and passing it over to Ed to obliterate with sugar cubes when he asks gently: “Would you mind, darling, telling me a little more about this Friday evening ritual? What you were telling us about on deck earlier?” Ed smiles softly as he stirs his tea, looking down and watching the sugar dissolve. “Yeah. Yeah, o’course I can tell you about Shabbat.”
“I told you a bit about my mum, yeah? And you know we had a hard fuckin’ life. She often went without, usually for me. Sold off more jewelry an’ heirlooms an’ shit than I can even remember when things first got bad. But this– this was real important to her. Even if my dad happened to be home, he was guaranteed to be down at the pub and well into his cups by Friday sunset, so this was always just the two of us. It was…special.”
“No matter how bad things got, she refused to sell the kiddush cup and candlesticks. She had a special hiding spot for them – and the menorah – so my dad wouldn’t find them. And no matter how rough that week was, there was always challah on the table on Friday and at least a little something for supper. Sometimes it was the smallest fuckin’ loaf, nothing but water in the kiddush cup, and a thin broth for dinner, but fuck if she didn’t make it happen. When I was a kid, I thought it was magic, and shit, it kinda was; a week of damn-near nothing in your belly, then this fuckin’ amazing , sweet braided bread. She’d let me eat basically the whole thing, of course. Some days, the thought of that was all that kept me going; ‘Gotta make it to Friday so I can eat mom’s challah.’ “
“And just…the way she looked, mate. So peaceful, so happy . You don’t know how fuckin’ rare that was for us. I can still picture her so clearly, movin’ her hands over the candles. Only her face lit up in the dark room. And her voice when she sang…I wish you could have heard her. I wish you could have met her.” He looks up at Stede, his eyes soft, “She woulda absolutely fuckin’ loved you.”
Stede sees Ed starting to tear up a little bit, and finds that he’s getting a little misty, himself. Ed snuggles up to him on the couch, setting their teacups down on the table and tucking himself under Stede’s arm.
“Oh, darling, I wish I could have met her as well. She sounds absolutely lovely.”
“Yeah,” Ed whispers, “She really was.”
*****
“Alright,” Stede stage-whispers to the crew (minus Ed), all gathered around the capstan in the late afternoon sun. A couple weeks have passed since the raid and they’re now docked in Nassau. Everyone split up in the morning to run the numerous errands that have to happen anytime they’re near a town…with a few additional tasks on their list this time, courtesy of Stede’s plan. All the available tables on the ship have been carried above deck and pushed together to create one long dining table that they’ve draped with an old sheet, like they normally do for Sunday night crew family dinners – except, they’ve recently taken a vote to move family dinner to this night: Friday nights. “Operation ‘Surprise Shabbat’ is underway! I asked Ed to meet me back at the ship for dinner at sunset, so he should be back any minute now. Roach, you’ve made the bread?”
Roach pulls back a tea towel covering an uneven but delicious smelling loaf, sitting on one of his new silver trays. “Hell yeah! It was kinda like a brioche…ish. The braiding was tricky, but the Swede helped me.” He glances over at The Swede, who’s grinning proudly and adds “Just like braiding hair! Over, under, over, under.”
“Most excellent! And Jim, you and Oluwande were able to secure some wine?”
Jim nods, pulling a bottle of surprisingly decent-looking wine – with an actual label on it and everything – out of the bag slung over their shoulder. “You got it, Capitán .” Stede chooses not to ask how much that cost…or if it was actually paid for.
“Wonderful! And Lucius, you and Pete acquired some new candles?”
“Obviously,” Lucius drawls. “That was like…the easiest thing on the list. We restock candles everytime we’re at port, anyway.”
“But you got lots? Enough for us to do this every week until we dock again?”
Lucius can’t help but smile fondly at his captain’s fretting. “ Yes , Captain. A whole box of beeswax candles. You’re gonna be set for like, ages .”
Stede sighs. He’s pacing nervously up and down the table, peeking under the lids of covered dishes and making minute adjustments to silverware. He comes back to the head of the table, where the silver kiddush cup and candlesticks sit in a place of honor, and quadruple checks that everything is in its place. “Alright. I know, I know. I just want everything to be…”
“...absolutely perfect,” choruses the crew in unison.
“We know ,” says Black Pete, “You’ve only said it, like, a million times.”
Stede opens his mouth – but whatever he’s about to say is cut off by the sight of Ed walking up the gangplank.
Ed climbs over and into the boat, taking in the sight of the gathered crew with surprise and no small amount of confusion. “Oh, we’re having family dinner? It’s not Sunday, is it? I, uh…I didn’t realize this was what you meant, Stede! I’m surprised you lot were even willing to have another meal on the ship, what with the whole city at your disposal.”
Stede comes over to take Ed’s hand, walking him over to the table. “Well, yes. They were rather good sports about it, but they know how important this is. Plus, we picked up some rather scrummy ingredients whilst running errands today, so it’s hardly another night of the usual rations.”
Ed stops short when they reach the head of the table, eyes wide as he takes in the newly acquired kiddush cup now filled with a deep red wine, the candlesticks set with freshly-rolled beeswax tapers, and the covered plate: each item placed with honor and care. He takes a deep, shuddering breath and turns to Stede, looking completely overwhelmed. “You- you all did this…for me?”
Stede nods. Each member of the crew is grinning ear-to-ear, circled all around them. “Go on then,” hollers Wee John, “Sun’s almost set! Don’t wanna miss it!”
Ed turns to him and grins, absolutely radiating happiness; his smile is so bright it feels like it could light up the whole world. It makes Stede catch his breath; he’s never seen anything so stunningly beautiful in his entire life. “Too right, mate! Let’s get going, then.” He picks up the tinderbox from the table and lights the candles, creating two bright pinpricks of light flickering against the growing dark. Stede watches breathlessly as Ed makes a circling motion with his hands three times over the lit tapers, seeming to draw the light towards himself, before covering his eyes with his hands. Then he sings, softly:
"Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam,
asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav
v'zivanu l'hadlik ner shel Shabbat.”
When Ed finishes, he drops his hands from his face and moves to pick up the wine, singing:
“Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu, Melech haolam, borei p’ri hagafen.”
Ed takes a small sip from the cup, then hands it to Stede. “Go on, mate. Have a drink – but not too much, gotta leave enough for everyone. Pass it ‘round.” Stede does so, briefly closing his eyes to savor the rich taste of the fine wine on his tongue before turning to hand the cup to Oluwande, behind him.
Ed waits until everyone has had a taste, then lifts the towel covering the plate to reveal Roach’s challah. The smell of fresh bread wafts through the air as Ed looks down, admiring the (slightly lumpy) braided loaf. He holds it, wrapped in the towel, and sings again:
“Baruch Atah Adonai, Eloheinu Melech haolam, Hamotzi lechem min haaretz.”
Ed sets the bread back down and looks between each member of his crew, smile still plastered across his face. “You guys. Fuck, I don’t even know what to say. This is amazing . I just– I can’t even…thank you. This was really…thank you.” He looks at Stede, eyes full of love, and Stede very nearly just melts away. “ Thank you.”
He turns back to the crew, throwing his hands up in the air: “Alright, everyone – time to eat!” The crew whoops and hollers as they make a rush for the table, silverware clattering and chairs scooting as they all settle in for the family meal. The sky is darkening rapidly, stars peeking out across the perfect, cloudless sky. The old, practical candelabras are lit all along the length of the table, and the crew starts passing dishes around. They’re well familiar with this part – they’ve done family dinners every week since Stede returned – but this one feels extra special.
Ed sits down next to Stede and tears off a generous chunk of bread from the end of the loaf, holding it up to his nose to breathe in the sweet, eggy fragrance for just a moment before shoving it into his mouth with a groan. “Ohhh man, how did you–? You know what, I don’t wanna know. I just wanna enjoy it. Holy shit, this is good.”
“Oh, darling, I do hope you liked it! And I hope we got everything right! We really tried, and I did find a book in town, but we just weren’t sure and–”
Ed cuts him off: “Stede. When I left home, I never thought I'd be able to do this again, much less surrounded by my own family. This was absolutely fuckin’ perfect.”
*****
That evening, they’re snuggled up together in the bed nook, Ed sat between Stede’s legs, leaning back against his chest. Stede is gently carding fingers through Ed’s freshly washed and brushed hair. Ed has his eyes closed and Stede thinks for a moment that he might have fallen asleep – until he speaks, almost too quietly to hear against the lapping waves:
“Ya know, my mum used to tell me she wanted me to find the person I was meant for. We both knew how fuckin’ unlikely that was, what with…well, everything. I never really saw myself as the marrying type.” He chuckles, softly, “But she said a mother could dream. She always had complete faith that one day, I’d meet my bashert . My soulmate.” Ed tips his head back to peer up at Stede. “She was right.”
“Oh, Ed,” Stede breathes, “I love you. You are absolutely everything , to me. You know that, right?”
“Yeah,” he murmurs, smiling, “Yeah, I do.”