Chapter Text
Ed hears the first rumour before the solstice: there’s a new pirate captain.
This in and of itself is not at all interesting. There’s somebody fancying themselves a new pirate captain every other day around here. It is the Golden Age of Piracy, after all. Ed marks the rumour down in the map he keeps in his mind, the one where he notes the rough position of every ship in the Caribbean basin, and carries on dissociating from the life he’s come to hate.
The rumours keep coming in: this captain’s a gentleman, run away from a fancy estate in Barbados. His crew is a bunch of misfits and rejects, people who couldn’t get hired on to other pirate ships. He’s got a seagull for a first mate. He’s paying his crew a living wage. He’s sailing around in circles.
Blackbeard’s ship anchors not far off Kingston to restock and give his crew shore leave, but Ed doesn’t bother leaving his cabin. Izzy comes back with another rumour about this new pirate captain - apparently he’s taken two English officers hostage.
Ed guesses that’s kind of interesting. Sure. Why not. He doesn’t have any specific plans for the rest of time, so when Izzy asks if Ed minds him taking a few of their best guys and going to steal these hostages for themselves - they’ll have relatively recent intel about the position of English warships, and they’re likely to be worth a nice ransom - Ed shrugs his assent and goes back to contemplating his pipe smoke.
The summer heat shimmers across Ed’s cabin. After Izzy leaves, he stands and looks out the wide windows, watches the clouds traverse the pale blue sky, knows a storm will come tomorrow. Tomorrow - another day in a long line of another days. The thought of it brings him no joy. He returns to his seat, slouches, relights his pipe.
When Izzy brings up the new captain next - and he’s not so new anymore, now, is he? He’s survived longer than some - Ed’s first mate is furious.
‘So you got one hostage?’ Ed clarifies, not quite understanding why Izzy’s so upset.
‘There were two hostages,’ Izzy snarls. ‘That fucking ponce stole the other.’
‘But you were stealing them both from him,’ Ed says, and yes, he’s needling Iz, but he doesn’t get a lot of entertainment out here these days.
Izzy snarls something or other, but Ed’s mind is spinning. Whoever this captain is, he seems to have bested Ed’s first mate.
Not that Ed thinks Izzy’s infallible or anything, but he is very good with a sword, meaning that this captain got under Izzy’s skin.
Fascinating .
Ed stands and walks to the cabin window. He’s got a broad desk in front of it, its surface scattered with papers and curiosities and loot. He runs his fingers over a hei matau he’d taken off the neck of a Scottish sailor who didn’t know what it was and looks out over the sea. The storm is at their backs, and he knows it’ll be shoving their sails out like a frog’s throat preparing to sing.
‘Follow him,’ he says.
Izzy complains, something about ‘Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet,’ which is apparently the guy’s name, but Ed’s not interested in his arguments. For one thing, what else are they going to do? Loot another ship? Why not follow this one, and loot it? If this Bonnet is a gentleman - if he’s carrying around enough of his own gold to be paying his pirates a living wage - then he’s a rich target.
Izzy stalks out of the cabin, muttering about Ed’s whims. Ed presses his palms into the wooden desk and looks out across the sea. For the first time in longer than he cares to contemplate, he finds breath-catching beauty in the sweep of the storm across the water.
***
Days follow one another, measured in the knife edge of the bow through water, the flutter of flags atop the mast, the movement of ships in the theatre of Ed’s mind. As summer intensifies, one of those ships sails to the forefront; whoever they’ve got at the helm is a talented sailor, and Ed wonders if it’s Bonnet himself or, more likely, if it’s that he’s lured a stellar navigator to his side with his natural charisma.
Yeah, Ed’s been thinking kind of a lot about this guy. Izzy is working himself into volcanic anger over their continued pursuit, which only makes Ed more intrigued.
Izzy is above all a loyal first mate; the kind of man who defines himself by his work. Ed supposes he’s that kind of man too - who is he, if not the man behind Blackbeard’s legend - just a smoke cloud held into a human shape by belted layers of black leather - but he’s plagued by a mutinous mind in a way that Izzy never seems to be. Questions like is this all there is? and what’s the fucking point? yield frightened confusion from his first mate. Frankly, Ed’s jealous; has been for years; wishes he could feel the same.
But, Izzy. Sure, he’ll sometimes throw a tantrum and threaten to quit, but they both know he doesn’t mean it. They both know Ed drives him to it. Overall, he’s loyal. A harsh enough leader of men to keep the crew in line when Ed can’t muster the energy to leave his cabin. A talented sailor and swordsman. Above all, so rigidly in control of himself that Ed swears he can see the veins in Izzy’s forehead straining under the pressure.
So rigidly in control of himself that when something disrupts it… well. If Ed’s being honest, it breaks the monotony. That’s it; that’s really all it is; he just wants to know what - who - could put Izzy so off his game that he gets bested at swordplay.
He tries to ask Ivan and Fang in a roundabout way, but Izzy seems to have scared them into silence. Mostly. Ivan says something nonsensical about ghosts (which don’t exist) and Fang says that Bonnet had floppy blonde hair, the eyes of a madman, and purple silk breeches.
‘Purple?’ Ed asks, taken aback. Who wears purple on a pirate ship?
‘Think it was lilac,’ Ivan says.
‘More of a lavender, really,’ Fang muses. ‘Had a clean white shirt on, too, but Izzy cut it up.’
‘Lavender?’ Ed repeats, bewildered. And, wait - ‘Izzy cut his -’
Izzy appears on the other side of the deck, clearly on his way up from the stores. Ivan and Fang immediately make an excuse to end the conversation, leaving Ed with a lot of additional questions.
Bonnet doesn’t really seem to notice that he’s being tailed by Blackbeard - or - fuck - Ed’s sort of working himself up about it now - it’s more likely that he’s noticed and is playing it cool .
Being coy! With Blackbeard!
Ed can be coy too, he thinks, in a bit of a fevered state in the heat of the dog days. They’re close to the Republic of Pirates now, and Izzy tells Ed that Bonnet and his crew have still got their English hostage.
‘Looking to fence him,’ Izzy suggests.
Ed nods. ‘Maybe this captain doesn’t want to sell him directly on.’ He can’t help but add, ‘Since he’s a gentleman, maybe he knows too many English officers personally.’
Izzy gives him a sideways look. ‘Captain, I’ve told you - ’
‘And I’ve told you,’ Ed says, annoyed, ‘keep following him.’ He waves a hand. ‘Dismissed.’
Izzy scuttles out of the cabin and Ed sinks down into his chair. It’s dusk now; they’ll be in the Republic’s harbour by morning. Tomorrow, he’ll invite Bonnet aboard his ship. He’ll get his cook to prepare something better than the usual fare if they’ve got the stores for it, and he and Bonnet, they’ll - they’ll share a meal.
Ed never shares meals with other people. His stomach clenches with nerves.
To dispel them, he stands and sweeps his hands across his desk, gathering everything he can and distributing it elsewhere around the room. He finds a rag and wipes the desk’s surface, though he always keeps it fairly clean. Won’t do to have a gentleman judging him, will it? Not when Ed can show him as fine a time as any English officer.
He stops, hand on the rag, and wonders what Bonnet will think of his cabin. It’s decorated lavishly with looted spoils, gold and jewels and statues and paintings. Ed’s bed is concealed by a folding wooden screen covered in high relief sea creatures skillfully carved by an artisan on the other side of the Pacific, an item he’d been delighted to liberate from a Manila galleon. And behind it, a bed with a black velvet blanket.
Not that he’s going to be showing Bonnet his bed.
He laughs to - at - himself. He’s being fucking stupid. He’s fabricated a handsome, charming man who will want to sit and talk with him, when what he’s really about to encounter is probably just some boring merchant who stole a ship -
More of a lavender, really , Fang says in his head, and Ed puzzles over it, over him , barely sleeps that night even while he tells himself over and over what a fool he’s being.
You’re nearly fifty. You’ve met every interesting person to sail these waters and seen most of their corpses thrown overboard. He’s going to be just like everyone else.
And:
He’s a gentleman. He’s not going to be interested in you. He’ll see right through everything in this cabin for what it is - stolen. You can steal everything you never thought you could have, and it’ll still never truly be yours.
Izzy comes to him in the morning and tries again - ‘Honestly, I really don’t think this Bonnet is worth your time.’
Ed’s in a good mood. He summarises the facts of the situation: ‘So he’s a fancy man, with a fancy ship, and he travels with a brigade of imbeciles, do I have that right?’ Izzy starts to stumble over an agreement, and Ed holds up his index finger. ‘And he bested you at swordplay.’
Izzy splutters; Ed lets him. Izzy may be worked up about the situation, but he remains Ed’s loyal first mate, so he goes with only a bit of complaining to the Republic to invite Bonnet aboard Ed’s ship.
Izzy returns several hours later. Ed’s all nerves, standing at his desk and looking out the windows, waiting to catch a glimpse of a blonde man with the eyes of a madman. He doesn’t notice how smug Izzy is at first, not until he says, ‘He’s not interested in meeting.’
‘What?’ Ed asks, stunned and more than a little hurt.
‘I explicitly told him, Blackbeard desired his company.’
Ed feels sick. ‘But does he know who I am?’
Izzy’s reflection in the glass shrugs. ‘Seemed to, yeah.’
‘And still he said no,’ Ed says quietly, and wonders what Bonnet had heard about Blackbeard to make him turn down the invitation.
‘“You can go suck eggs in hell”, was his response, I believe,’ Izzy adds.
Ed’s mind whirs into action; is Bonnet still playing coy? Is he flirting ? That response is too ridiculous - too over the top - like it’s a game, not life or death, to insult Blackbeard -
Ed turns his head slightly towards Izzy and says, ‘Fascinating.’
‘Shall we fire on their ship, then?’ Izzy asks.
‘No,’ Ed says, coming to a decision. He doesn’t get what Bonnet’s doing, but he really fucking wants to know. ‘Let’s watch them and see what they do.’
Izzy exhales, sounding annoyed. ‘He’s given himself a stupid new name, by the way,’ he says. ‘Made a big announcement about it in Jackie’z.’
‘What’s that?’ Ed asks, hungry for any other detail about the man.
‘The Gentleman Pirate,’ Izzy sneers.
Ed sets Izzy to keep a watch on deck and starts pacing around his cabin. Go suck eggs in hell ; it’s brilliant, and rude, and frankly makes no sense, but Ed had thought there was no one for a thousand miles who would dare even look him in the eye, let alone insult him, and it sends a thrill down his spine.
Izzy comes back in no time at all to report that Bonnet has gone off with Jackie’s latest idiot husband, Geraldo, probably to fence his hostage. Ed starts to worry, because no way does Geraldo have access to the kind of money a British officer should command - Ed considers finding some way to let Bonnet know that - but then Izzy comes back again and says, in a voice practically quivering with excitement, that Geraldo is taking Bonnet, his hostage, and several members of his crew to a Spanish warship.
Ed’s curiosity feels like a living thing inside of him, shoving through corridors in his mind that he’d thought long closed off and cold. A Spanish warship - he hasn’t boarded one of those in a while - could be a good source of loot - and Bonnet might need help - Geraldo may be an idiot, but he’s a snake - what Jackie was thinking there, Ed won’t ask but she’ll definitely tell him anyway (it’ll be the dick; it’s always the dick; Jackie is attracted exclusively to men on the himbo spectrum) - Blackbeard and Bonnet, they could take this Spanish ship together, share the spoils, Ed could invite him back for that meal tonight while their crews divide up the loot -
Izzy returns a third time, without knocking. ‘He’s gotten stabbed,’ he announces.
Ed practically cracks his neck looking around at him. ‘ What? ’
‘Yeah, some big Spanish fucker got him,’ Izzy says, examining his fingernails. ‘He’ll bleed out soon.’
Ed panics. Bonnet’ll die, and then he’ll never meet the man, never find out what he was doing - if he was flirting - ‘We’re rescuing him,’ he announces.
‘ What? ’ Izzy demands. ‘Edward -’
Ed steps past Izzy, sparing a glance at himself in a tall mirror that hangs on one wall - he’d made sure his hair was looking good this morning, but he’ll give it a bit of a primp on their way over -
‘Ed. Captain ,’ Izzy tries, following Ed out of the cabin and up onto the deck.
‘Crew,’ Ed says, and is gratified at how quickly everyone leaps to their feet. ‘I need -’ He looks back at Izzy for confirmation as he says, ‘twelve men.’
Izzy throws up his hands and looks away, making such a show of frustration that Ed has half a mind to call him out for it - but Bonnet’s been stabbed and they’ve got a Spanish warship to raid.
Ed gets his twelve men and they set out in two longboats, each ready to receive enough treasure to make them low in the water. Ed runs his hands through his hair as he sits, watching Ivan row, the waves choppy with the passage of boats and the wild sounds of the Republic at dusk drifting across the water. The Spanish warship is huge, and Ed wonders what Bonnet was thinking when he approached it - wonders if he was he still thinking of Izzy’s offer at all, of an audience with Blackbeard -
‘Approaching the vessel, Captain,’ someone says.
Ed stands and braces himself with his good leg, the other resting on the seat. He nods to Izzy, who shows the signal back to their ship for the cannon to fire.
‘There’s a blond guy up there,’ Ed announces. ‘Eyes of a madman. Bleeding out. Possibly in lavender breeches.’ He looks at his men. ‘I want him alive.’
The cannonball sails overhead with a distinctive whistle. It hits something solid and potentially alive, based on the sound it makes when it lands.
Adrenaline courses through Ed as they board the ship. He’s been on more raids than there are stars in the sky, it feels like, but this one excites him. There’s smoke and fire and he’s scanning the deck -
‘I cut him down, boss,’ someone says in his ear before moving on to engage a red-coated man with a sword.
Cut who down, Ed wonders, until he sees a rope dangling from a mast, and something all white lying below it.
Ed knows, suddenly, what - who - it is. Stede Bonnet, Gentleman Pirate. He strides through the smoke and flame and screaming. The hard soles of his boots echo off the wooden deck. He stops and regards the man all in white.
Oh no, he’s hot.
Also recently hung and stabbed, but his eyes are open, staring at Ed like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
Ed runs a hand down his own chest, as if a lover is touching him. ‘The Gentleman Pirate, I presume?’ he asks.
The man’s eyes widen. ‘You’ve heard of me?’
This fucking lunatic is flirting with Ed while he bleeds out on the deck of a Spanish warship. Ed would swoon, but Bonnet doesn’t look in any condition to have his strong, manly arms catch him. He settles for, ‘Oh yeah, I’ve heard of you. I’ve heard all about you.’
Bonnet smiles up at him, radiant, perfect.
Ed’s heart starts pounding.
Unfortunately for them both, Stede passes out.