Chapter Text
Stede’s sword clanged and reverberated as the edge met Izzy’s own blade with malice. Izzy had bloodshot eyes that bulged near out of his head as he faced Stede head on. He’d already managed to lay a few blows on Stede which were dripping blood down his arms and shoulders, but he didn’t feel them. Stede was woefully preoccupied with the man standing just behind Izzy, tied to the mast of the Revenge like he was a hostage onboard.
Stede gritted his teeth. Some first mate Izzy was, tying the captain he’d been vying for to the mast like he was no better than a common British navy man. Ed was watching the duel play for play, his eyes never leaving Stede. Those big brown eyes sent an ache through Stede’s heart. Tears welled in them, about the spill over. With every blow Izzy landed on him, they seemed to get closer to spilling over, but he managed to hold them back all the same.
With Stede’s attention diverted, Izzy struck a blow, but at the last moment, Stede was able to parry it. He’d been practicing everything Ed had taught him from the very first day he returned to his crew. He’d known he’d get to this point eventually. With a flourish, he managed to nick Izzy’s side and the rest happened in a blur. Stede managed to get Izzy’s sword out of his hand by some great luck. It flew over the edge of the ship and out of sight. Izzy lifted his hands into the air as Stede pointed the end of his sword at his chest and grinned. No need to shed blood today. He’d already won.
“Step aside, Hands,” Stede ordered.
“I don’t take orders from you, Bonnet,” Izzy snapped, pronouncing his name like a curse.
“You don’t have much of a choice,” Stede replied. Behind him, Oluwande and Buttons stood to flank him. Izzy was going to move or be dragged away kicking and screaming. He decided on the gentlemanly action for once and stepped aside.
Stede was at Ed’s side in less than a second, slashing through the ropes that held him in place in one fluid motion. Everything, from faking his death, to finding the crew of the revenge, to stealing a ship of his own and tracking the Revenge down had all been leading to this.
Ed nearly toppled in his arm, leaning on him for support as he pressed his head into the fabric of Stede’s shirt. His weight was solid, but he felt much lighter than Stede expected. Not caring to put much thought into it, Stede nuzzled his face into Ed’s hair. It was a bit scratchy and smelled deeply of the sea, but he didn’t care to make note of it. All he cared about was the feeling of Ed back in his arms after so long.
“Ed, dear,” Stede whimpered. “I came back. I’m so sorry. I’ll never leave you again.”
Ed picked his head back up and took in Stede’s more rugged visage. In the past month, he'd grown the beginning of a golden blonde beard that scratched across his chin. Ed’s eyes sparkled as he stared at him, his lips set firm as if deciding if this was real. For all Stede knew, he probably was. He’d been gone a long time and his chest burned with regret for every minute of it.
“I thought you’d left me,” Ed said to him, quiet and broken like that sad voice he’d spoken with in the bathtub the night of the fuckery all those months ago.
“I—” Stede hesitated over his next words. He remembered the wink Ed had given him when they are arrested by the British. Never left. The thought died on his lips. “…I’m sorry Ed. But I can fix this. If you’ll let me.”
Stede took Ed’s cheek into his hand, caressing the soft stubble that was left where his beard used to be. His lips looked so soft, like they had when he’d first kissed him on that beach. All his memories of Ed mixed and twisted in her head with regret, but as he rubbed his thumb across Ed’s stubble, he knew it would be alright in the end. Stede closed his eyes and leaned forward to press his lips against Ed’s.
Before he could close the distance however, something sharp and hot shot through his midsection. He pulled back, away from Ed and looked down to there the end of a sword protruded from the middle of his stomach. Slowly, it dawned on him that he’d been stabbed through the back. He looked back up at Ed and found him backing away from his embrace. He let go of Stede’s arm, his face suddenly filling with smoke. The man Stede knew and loved more than anything was suddenly a stranger to him, a demon in Ed’s leathers. The Blackbeard of the tales.
Stede turned his head and found Izzy grinning at the end of the sword in his back. He looked as much like a demon as Ed did though without any of the smoke or fanfare. Izzy didn’t need any of that to look terrifying. He just seemed to exude an evil energy that set Stede’s teeth on edge.
“I don’t play by your rules, Stede Bonnet,” Izzy spat.
“I don’t…” Stede looked around him to the rest of the ship, but he was alone. The Revenge was abandoned, all his crewmates gone and the sun disappearing too. “Edward.”
But Edward was gone. Izzy was gone, and Stede was falling. The world had gone completely dark and Stede jolted into a deep fall until suddenly, Stede gasped awake. He breathed in quick shallow breaths as he blinked up at the dark ceiling of his cabin. His blankets had twisted around his feet, leaving him tangled as he tried to sit up.
It was just a dream.
Stede turned his gaze to the small port window near the bed in his little cabin. This ship, though smaller than the Revenge, had been kind to Stede this past month. His cabin was bare of all his usual belongings, but everything had been left behind on the Revenge. Items that now he was told had been thrown out in Ed’s grief.
Outside the window, the sea shifted lazily in the night. It would be a few hours still until dawn, but Stede’s head was racing too fast for him to return to sleep now. His dreams had been filled with blood and heartbreak for quite a while now. Sometimes it was Izzy who bested him and stabbed him through. Other times it was the British forces that overwhelmed his crew and killed them all in front of him. Other times still he was just alone, sent adrift to never see Edward again.
“Can’t sleep?” a familiar voice asked from the dark.
Stede nearly jumped at the sound of Oluwande’s voice in the cabin. Olu was sat up in his cot on the other side of the cabin with a small candle to illuminate his solemn face. He looked just as bad as Stede felt, heavy bags under his eyes and sweat slick on his face.
“Bad dreams,” Stede admitted.
“You’re not the only one in that,” Olu said and Stede took a longer look at his face. He’d been at Stede’s side since they reunited on that tiny island. The rest of the crew had been quick to call Edward insane and dangerous, but Oluwande had been honest. He’d told Stede just how hurt Ed had been when he’d left. How Ed had hidden himself away in his cabin with no visitors but Lucius for days. And how he’d turned his attention toward destroying everything of Stede left.
“You must miss Jim,” Stede offered.
“Every second of every day,” Olu said.
“We’ll find them,” Stede said. He gripped the edges of his blanket. “Both of them.”
“Yeah,” Olu sighed and looked away like he didn’t believe it. They’d been at this for a month, following in the wake of the Revenge, finding what was left of ships set adrift, filled with dead and stinking corpses, stripped of anything valuable. Robbing vessels was just part of being a pirate, but this, the death left behind. Stede had never seen anything so bloody, not even from Pete’s most gruesome stories of Blackbeard. The Ed Stede knew was as good as gone.
“I’m going to check things on deck,” Stede said, throwing the thin blanket back and shoving his feet into the boots beside him. He stomped out of the cabin, leaving Olu alone in their shared room.
The deck of the Alma was quiet at this time of night. In the morning, it would be overrun with his crew and his thoughts would be overrun with keeping the ship moving to do much thinking at all. Only now while he couldn’t sleep, and his dreams threatened to spill over could he have a second to himself anymore. And most of that alone time was spent missing Ed, regretting leaving him, wishing he go back and change his mind.
“Oh Ed,” he said to the ocean as if the waves could carry his message all the way to the Revenge. “Hold on. Just until I get back. Just a little longer.”
Stede leaned against the railing of the ship, watching the waves crash and part against the sides. The moon shone bright over the ocean as Stede watched, wishing he could find Ed again, hoping it would be under better luck than the first time. He spotted something as he contemplated his rotten luck. Something little and red bobbed in the waves, half sinking as it tried to retain some level of buoyancy in the shifting ocean.
Confused and unsure if he was seeing what he thought he was, Stede leaned down, over the railing toward the bobbing object. He was right! It was! The red piece of silk, now tattered and faded by the salt of the sea was floating only just on the waves.
Stede scrambled to grab the ladder and get closer, but as he placed and secured the rope ladder, his excitement got the better of him. Stede went toppling over the side of the boat, splashing into the ocean with a sudden and undignified scream. When he breeched the surface, it was with a loud “bugger!” as he wiped the water from his eyes.
Looking around, Stede thought he’d lost the piece of cloth forever as he found himself treading water in the empty sea. But he nearly yelped when he touched his left shoulder and found the fabric clinging to him for dear life. Raising it up above the waves, Stede thanked the stars and the moon that he’d managed to find himself here at just the right time. He was sure his luck was finally turning around.
xXx
The main cabin of the Revenge was dark as Izzy stepped inside, pushing the door open to the once ridiculous room of the newly dead Gentleman Pirate. There was a faint smell of tobacco smoke filling the once bright and gaudily decorated room that now stood empty and bare. The writing desk in the center of the room that now had quite a few nicks cut into it and the curtains that blocked out the light of morning were the only things that remained of the prattling idiot who had called himself a pirate.
“Captain,” Izzy called as he made his way into the room. The curtain that sectioned off the bed from the rest of the room was drawn closed. He walked briskly to it and pulled it open to reveal the captain lounging in the now bare mattress, smoking his pipe lazily. “Good morning, Captain.”
“Is it?” Blackbeard replied in a tone that Izzy took for nonchalance. Out on the deck, he was a terror, the most feared pirate in all of history, facing down fleets of British and Spanish and Dutch all in the same go. When he was here though, all he did was smoke, likely trying to get the smell of Bonnet out of the ship.
“We’ve finished torturing the hostages,” Izzy commented. The news he had would get Blackbeard out of this room. The last month had been filled with pillages. They’d been chasing down British Naval vessels every chance they got with no luck. No one knew what happened to Stede Bonnet. Until now.
“More of nothing, I suppose,” Blackbeard commented. He blew a ring of smoke out into the air. When it broke apart, he examined his pipe as if looking for a flaw.
“The opposite actually,” Izzy said. “One of the hostages had family in Barbados.” He removed the small letter from his breast pocket. It had been written in a flourish sort of hand writing that Izzy wasn’t entirely sure Blackbeard would be able to read, but he’d already heard the tale from the officer whose body was now drifting somewhere in the middle of the ocean.
“Spare me the details,” Blackbeard groaned.
“The man grew up with Bonnet,” he continued. “Knew him. His wife sent a letter mentioning a Widow Bonnet. And the poor fucker’s untimely death. Stede Bonnet is dead.”
Blackbeard sat up straight at the remark. “Give it,” he snapped, and Izzy happily dropped the folded letter into his hand.
Nearly ripping it apart as he unfolded it, Blackbeard scanned the page with a great intensity. Izzy could see the gears working in his head as he read through the details of Bonnet’s death. Izzy stood there, watching his expression for any hint of that pitiful little Edward as he read the note. When Blackbeard had insisted they go after the former captain of the Revenge, Izzy had thought him still as mad as he had been singing those awful songs. But it had been clear then as it was now. Blackbeard wanted Stede Bonnet dead, and Izzy was happy to be the bearer of such news.
When Blackbeard finished reading the letter, he shoved it back toward Izzy and pushed past him, getting to his feet and shoving his way out of bed. Izzy grinned to see Blackbeard’s reaction. The thorn in his side was finally gone.
“Sail to Barbados,” Blackbeard ordered.
Izzy blinked in surprise at his captain. “Barbados, Captain?”
“Did I fucking stutter?” Blackbeard asked. “If Bonnet is dead already, I want to ensure that he suffered. And if not, I will ensure that someone else suffers.”
“Just not sure what that will accomplish,” Izzy offered. He’d watched Blackbeard struggle to stay afloat, but going back to the place Stede died might really bring Edward back for good. He wanted his captain to bury a dagger into Stede Bonnet’s chest, not to weep over his grave stone like a child. Bonnet was dead. They should have been rejoicing. Instead, Blackbeard had a look on his face like he might let Edward breathe again.
“It accomplishes the entire Western hemisphere knowing that I’ll fucking kill them and their whole family if they fucking cross me!” Blackbeard snapped. Firmly Blackbeard. No Ed in sight.
Izzy relaxed. “I’ll inform the crew.” He left Blackbeard alone again to the smoke-filled room. With Stede Bonnet dead, the world was right again. He was never going to survive long anyway. That ponce was always going to die in some spectacularly stupid fashion.
xXx
Stede Bonnet was dead, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Ed sat at Stede’s old writing desk, one of the only things he’d left behind from the Gentleman Pirate. He read and reread the letter Izzy had given him. The words were stained with a few drops of blood and Ed wasn’t a strong reader to begin with, but what he could figure was clear enough.
…Not a week back with Mary and the poor woman is a widow once again…I couldn’t imagine a fate worse.
The woman writing the letter, some British Officer’s wife who was a widow now herself, had a pretentious way of writing like she was just about to faint just by detailing all the tragic things happening about Bridgetown. One thing was clear, however, and that was Mary Bonnet, wife of Stede Bonnet, was a widow all of the sudden.
…I saw it with my own eyes and went faint on the spot. My only wish now is that you come home to me as soon as you can. I’ve visited Mrs. Bonnet since and given her my condolences, but she seems to have returned to her mourning period as if there was no break at all. At the very least, she managed to get her last week with her Stede rather than wondering whether he was alright out at sea with all those dreadful bloodthirsty pirates around.
Ed gritted his teeth at the woman’s wording. She acted like she was mourning Stede herself, but she didn’t know him. His wife certainly didn’t know him, not like Ed did. But he’d gone back to her, and just after their shared kiss on the beach too it seemed. He’d made his choice. A stable home and a wife instead of a bloodthirsty pirate and all his scars.
Mary Bonnet, the idea of the woman sickened him. He remembered Stede the first time they met, when he was unconscious chasing a fever dream. He’d been dreaming of her then and he wondered just how much he’d really thought of her when they were together. If he ever stopped loving her.
Part of Ed wanted to weep, like he’d been doing in this cabin for so long, but he held them back. Stede Bonnet’s death would not go unremarked upon. These hoity toity landowning aristocrats weren’t the ones who got to mourn him, and it was time they learned that. It was time Mary Bonnet’s mourning period ended.
Blackbeard took a swig of rum and stood, crushing the letter up in his hands until it resembled a little ball. He threw it haphazardly into the empty fireplace and left the empty cabin for the deck where his flag flew like the devil.
xXx
Mary Bonnet had just finished taking a stroll with her children as she came into the house. Edward watched her through the window as she made her way up the walk, assessing everything he could about her appearance. She had a soft oval face and light, fair skin. Her brown hair was tied behind her with a spray of bangs falling over her brow. Ed wondered what exactly it was that made her so worth coming back to.
She wore black, the colors of a widow and held a child’s hand at each side as she led them along. As far as people went, she was rather plain, and her clothing reflected that as well. There was not the fine, bright fabrics that Stede wore on most occasions. Instead, she chose simpler things and by the stains on her fingers, she chose them for a reason. It was obvious before she walked in that she was a painter.
When she did step into the house, Edward was lounging on the chaise, his boots tracking dirt onto the fabric. Izzy leered before the window, hiding at the edge of the curtains, but Ed sat on full display, waiting for her.
As soon as the door opened, Ed could hear her voice. “Now, the two of you should go get washed up for dinner if you want to—”
Mary was cut off as she came before the doorway to the tearoom where Ed was still sitting, laid back as if he owned the place. He perked up a little as she noticed him and drew his gun, lazily pointing it toward her.
“Children, go on upstairs while I talk to our visitor,” Mary said.
The oldest of the two, the daughter, tilted her head at Edward for a minute as she let go of her mother’s hand and reached for her skirt instead. “Why do we have to go?”
“Just take your brother upstairs. I’ll be there in a minute,” Mary snapped. The girl flinched a little at the sudden harsh tone of voice, but quickly reached her hand into the pocket of her mother’s dress before she grabbed her brother and dragged him behind her up the stairs.
When they finally disappeared, Ed sat up, still pointing his gun right toward her heart. He could see himself shooting it, pulling the trigger and hearing the gun powder ignite. He could see Mary clutching her chest, blood staining through her expensive linen. But as Ed looked at her, he saw something oddly, brave.
She held her ground, unmoving and unblinking as she looked down the barrel of Ed’s gun, right to him. Her eyes were wide with fear, like she was seeing a phantom. Ed leveled her gaze, trying to imagine this woman with Stede, trying to imagine her in his arms, but he couldn’t. All he could see was Stede dead, pale and gutted like the first time they met on that Spanish Naval vessel.
“Tell me,” Ed uttered, his voice much coarser than the lavish surroundings of Stede’s old home. “What happened to Stede Bonnet?”
“You knew him,” Mary said. She glanced toward Izzy who’d only moved an inch to straighten where he stood at the window. Ed nodded just barely like a bobber on a still day. “Whatever he stole from you, I’m sure it’s not here. He didn’t bring anything back from his… time away.”
“He didn’t steal shit. He was a shit pirate,” Ed said. He stood and Mary backed up until she was trapped against the stairwell. Ed strode forward, waving his pistol a little as he went. “What I want to know, is what happened to him.”
“H-he’s dead,” Mary stuttered. She held onto the railing at the bottom of the stairwell as Edward advanced on her. As he reached her close enough to touch, he put away the gun. If he was going to kill her now, it was going to be slow. He took out his knife instead and rested the point against her collarbone.
He wanted to know every detail of Stede’s death and then he wanted to kill her. Mary, the woman Stede had left him for. If he couldn’t kill Stede himself, he’d have to kill the woman he’d loved.
“How?” Ed demanded. “Tell me how he died.”
Mary swallowed and as close as Edward was, he could see the gears of her head assessing the situation. But there wasn’t going to be a way out. This was going to be long and painful. And he ate up every sign of her fear. The drip of sweat against her forehead and the way she tensed against the cold bite of his knife, but even as she did so, she looked him directly in the eye. She was willing herself to be unafraid.
“He,” she started, but paused as Edward moved his knife blade closer to her throat.
“Go on,” he said.
“He was struck by a pianoforte,” Mary said.
Edward narrowed his eyes. It would have been goddamn hilarious if it wasn’t so tragic. But that wasn’t it. There was a look in her eye that told him that wasn’t the end of it. “And?”
“Before that,” Mary said. “He was attacked…by a loose jungle cat. And hit by a carriage. It was all very tragic. Please that’s all. Whatever he did to you, he’s dead. I had no part in his piracy. I’ve got children. I can’t—”
“Shut up,” Edward snapped. She shut up as Edward narrowed his eyes at her, trying to make sense of what she’d said. Attacked by a jungle cat, hit by a horse drawn carriage, struck by a falling pianoforte. It was a joke, a sick joke and Edward didn’t believe it. Stede couldn’t be dead, not like that. It was too fucking stupid to be true and if Edward was a little drunker, he might have believed it, and he might have called it a good enough death for the Gentleman Pirate to have suffered.
“Don’t bullshit me,” he snapped. “How did Stede really die?”
Mary shook her head. Tears were forming in her eyes as she tried to form the words. “That is how he died. I saw the whole thing.”
“No,” he said low and calm. Then his anger got the better of him. “No! Tell me what the fuck you did with Stede Bonnet!”
A stray tear spilled past the woman’s eye. “I didn’t,” she breathed, terrified. “Who are you?”
“I’m the one asking the fucking questions here. Now unless you tell me what the fuck happened to Stede I’m going to gut you right here and make you mop your intestines off the fucking carpet.”
“He’s alive!” Mary shouted as his dagger reached the edge of her chin.
Edward drew his knife away. “What?” That couldn’t be right. He’d come all this way thinking that Stede Bonnet had died in a horrible accident and now he was alive. Unless she was lying to him now. His eyes blurred over with tears that he blinked away as he took a step away from Mary Bonnet. Not enough for her to run, but enough that she couldn’t see him holding back tears.
“He’s alive,” Mary breathed, clutching her chest with the inch of room Ed had given her. “And he’s gone. He went back to the sea. He’s looking for someone. Ed.”
Ed. His heart stopped for a second at the sound of his name on her lips. Stede had mentioned him to Mary, and he’d gone back to find him. Edward thought he was going to pass out for a second. Between the lack of sleep, the drinking, and this revelation, he was about to drop.
“Why did he go back to this Ed?” Edward asked. He wasn’t about to let this stranger know who he really was. Let her believe she’d been stalked and attacked by a bloodthirsty pirate out to kill Stede. Eventually, he would kill Stede.
“He,” Mary hesitated on her answer, but at the sight of Ed’s knife still in his hand, she forced the words out. “He’s in love.”
Behind him, Izzy stepped forward at the mention of Edward’s name. “Captain.”
Edward closed his eyes at the excoriating sound of his first mate’s voice. He wished the man would just shut up, but as much as Edward wanted him gone, he needed him here. Izzy had been a trusted ally for years and years, since Edward first manned his own ship. When he opened his eyes, Mary was still cowering before him. Stede was alive and he was looking for Ed because he loved him.
“That’s too bad,” he said. “Ed’s dead.”
“No,” Mary said. “He can’t be.”
“Yeah. I killed him,” Ed said.
“Captain,” Izzy said again. “We should get this over with. If Bonnet’s alive—”
Edward raised a single finger to stop him. He wasn’t done with her yet. “Take Bonnet back to the ship,” he said. “She’s going to tell me everything she knows about where Stede went or she’s going to starve.”
Mary gritted her teeth together. “Who the fuck are you?” she demanded, and Edward raised his eyebrows at her stupid display of bravery.
Edward grabbed her by the wrist. One day he would kill her, and it would be in front of Stede. Let him beg him to stop as he cut his wife open. And then, when he found him and had him in his sights again, he’d kill Stede too. “I’m fucking Blackbeard,” he told her and watched her go pale with fear at the name.