#to laden in finery; ed (fxckin-blackbeard)

[lighthousepyrate]

Continued from (x)

Silence with Ed never felt like this before. Awkward. Strained. Days sat in the library and nights curled up in the bed nook seemed all but a distant memory. Left with only the crackling fire and patter of rain outside to fill the quiet. He needed to say something, anything to break the tension. And after the success of their truce in defeating the British tender, he hoped maybe it could last a little longer.

A notion quashed by Ed's disagreement. Couldn't blame him for that, he supposed. Though something about what he said irked him. Firelight flickering in his eyes as he frowned.

"If not now, then when, Edward? Not talking about this is what got us stuck here in the first place. And there's nothing else we can do until the rain lets up." Not entirely true, staying silent probably the better option. But Stede refused it.

"What you did to Izzy, to Lucius, to everyone, was your choice. Not mine. I know I hurt you, and I'm sorry. I'll always regret leaving how I did. But what you've done, how you responded to what I did, is on your own head."

Stede's hands hadn't held the knives. The swords. The guns. Stede's mouth hadn't spoken the words that couldn't be taken back.

#to laden in finery; ed (fxckin-blackbeard) #verse; bridge over troubled waters #//yes trust building adventure! #oh no there's only one cave

[lighthousepyrate]

Continued from (x)

How such a peaceful morning descended into utter chaos in the span of five seconds, over a spider, Stede didn't know. While it was quite large, it clearly wasn't venomous. Not to the extent it would hurt either of them.

Before Stede even begins to voice his logic, he's grunting from the weight of Ed's body squashing him without warning. Eyes widening on realisation of just what his partner grabbed in the heat of the moment.

"Edward no! Don't shoot it," Stede shouts, jumping to his feet. "Put the gun down, I'll deal with it. Just- Go check on the crew. It'll be gone by the time you get back."

#to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard) #//i realise i am making far too many threads today #but the muse is strong

[lighthousepyrate]

"Are you sure you're up for this? There's still a long way down. Not to mention making it back up again..." One arm in a vice hold around his waist and the other hand clinging to the rail, Stede helped Ed traverse one of many, many sets of stairs.

He recalled that fateful morning a few days prior. Heading down to the beach to retrieve, what he thought would be, bodies washing up on the shore. Instead he found Edward. Believing him a corpse on first look, relieved to see the rise and fall of his chest. Stede had never carried dead weight before, and hoped not to do so ever again. Limbs slipping and head rolling. It was difficult just to get a good grip on the man, let alone drag him up off the sand. Heaving him up to the lighthouse and lugging him up those accursed steps.

“I could show you some things in the kitchen, perhaps? I have more of that marmalade you like.” Anything to keep his mind off the sea. Only until he was steady on his feet. Then he could come and go as he pleased.

@fxckin-blackbeard

#verse; light me up again #to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard) #//surprise mer!au

[lighthousepyrate]

|| Continued from (x) @fxckin-blackbeard ||

It came as a pleasant surprise, just how close they were to a seaside town. Amenities plentiful and merchant ships stopping on the regular. Even so, the trek back always felt worse. Lugging supplies across uneven terrain did a number on his legs, hard work never really something he enjoyed. Or participated in for most of his life. Ordinarily, Edward came with him. Helped carry things, lightening the load. But he seemed off that morning, Stede deciding to him some space. Get a little treat while he was out.

The door opens with his back to the room, arms full and using his body to push it. “I’m home,” he calls to the empty room. “You’ll never believe what I found in the apothecary, it was such a steal too. Well. I did steal it, but that’s beside the point. It’s…” Stede trails off, finally taking in his surroundings as the door falls shut behind him. Ransacked and ruined. Thieves? It didn’t look like anything was taken. Pirates? Someone on the hunt for the infamous Blackbeard and Gentlemen Pirate, hearing of their inn and wanting a piece of them?

His eyes widen. Ed.

“Oh, god. Ed? Edward!?” He cries, scanning the room again to no sign of him. Of course, Ed could handle a few marauders perfectly fine, the knowledge calming his nerves enough to hear noises coming from their bedroom. He makes his way in, cautiously at first, relief on recognising the source of the sound. He sits down on the bed, not pulling away the blankets. His brows knit together. “Ed? What happened?"

#verse; bridge over troubled waters #to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard)

[lighthousepyrate]

Continued from (x)

"Yes, tea. Not just any tea, though. It's my special chamomile tea. One cup will put you right out. I even added a little of that honey you like." Stede says, offering the cup and saucer. That skeptical look brings a frown to his lips and a huff of his breath.

"Oh, come on now, Ed. You've hardly slept a wink in days. It's not fine. You're clearly exhausted, and I'm worried about you." Persuasion always seemed a hit or miss with Ed. If his mind was made up, there was almost no telling him. But Stede didn't give up so easily.

"Even if it doesn't work, what's the harm in trying? Either it works and you get some sleep, or it doesn't, and you get something nice to warm you up. Help you relax a bit. Please?"

#to laden in finery; ed (fxckin-blackbeard) #verse; bridge over troubled waters #//bingo it is exactly that tea #//stede yawned just from the steam when he made it lmao

[lighthousepyrate]

|| Continued from (x) @fxckin-blackbeard ||

"Dear god, it's awful!" Stede clings to his arm with a vice like grip, features pallor in disgust. "Shit, it's right there," he points, grasp still somehow managing to tighten.

No fewer than ten feet away, gnawing on the empty carcass of what was once a rice sack, stood a fat, brown rat. It paid no mind to the shrill screams and worried shouts, content to scurry and scrounge the deck for any tid bits of food. Which, judging by the plumpness of its physique, it had no trouble finding.

Stede turns away, unable to bear the sight of that thing any longer. Had he encountered it, say, on the Republic of Pirates, his reaction might've been different. Expecting vermin in a place such as that. But to have one aboard his own vessel? Just the thought made him feel ill, let alone dealing with the reality chewing through one of his good sacks.

"Oh Ed, kill it, please kill it!"

#verse; bridge over troubled waters #to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard) #//it's the spider all over again

[lighthousepyrate]

Ed: I want to do a nicery for the crew. Stede: Do you mean a nicety? Ed: No! A nicery.

#to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard)

[lighthousepyrate]

|| Continued from (x) @fxckin-blackbeard ||

Stede awakes to the song of sea birds, feeling the faintest brush of fingertips at the twisting of a curl. A smile curves his lips, eyes blinking open. Face soft from sleep, the haze of morning heavy in his tone. Waking up to a sight he never dreamed possible, and did so everyday. Oh, how he finally longed for, positively adored, mornings now.

"Darling? What does that one mean?" He recognised the language. Heard him using it before, inquired about it. His mother's tongue. Spoken about with such enthusiasm he had to learn all Edward knew. Memories of shouting swear words from the tops, giggling and asking if he said it right.

#verse; surely to the sea #to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard)

[lighthousepyrate]

|| Continued from (x) @fxckin-blackbeard ||

Days barely seeing a glimpse of Ed were more common than not, something difficult to get used to. But he needed the space and time to heal, and Stede respected that. As much as one could, being on the same ship together. He often found himself drifting to Ed’s usual spots throughout the day, just to see what he was up to. If he needed anything or finally wanted to talk.

The best times saw his presence tolerated, and the rest, well, he supposed being ignored was better than arguing.

"So this is where you've been hiding," Stede remarks as though he didn't already know.

Lucius, much to the boy's credit, told him about the situation right away. In spite of the bad blood between them and the general misgivings about keeping him aboard the ship, it was good to see someone else looking out for Edward's well-being. Whether that was his true intent, or if he wanted to annoy a man that didn’t want to be found, Stede chose to disregard.

"Let me take care of you."

Words voiced as he ducked out onto the head, escaping as naturally as a breath. Seeing Edward like this... feverish and shaking like a leaf. Suffering in silence and all alone in the misery of it all. It made his heart ache, the look in the man's eyes sealing Stede's decision. "You're sick," he corrects. Maybe a little gross, but not that bad. The Swede's breath after the scurvy took hold held the current prize for grossness. That or the infected finger.

"And you might not, but I'm not going anywhere. Well. I won't be once I come back. There's a few things I need to get first." With no room for protest, Stede disappears back into the ship. A list forming in his head.

#to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard) #verse; bridge over troubled waters

[lighthousepyrate]

|| @fxckin-blackbeard Continued from (x) ||

"It's okay not drink anymore if you don't like it, especially on my account." Stede chuckles, believing Ed to be too polite to say no to something he offered him. As his guest, he simply wanted the other man's comfort and health. Nothing more, nothing less. Though he does take the initiative to cork the rum. One glass the perfect amount, it seemed.

"Hm? Oh, of course. Did you n-" Words cut off with a peck to the lips as he leans down, the blond quiets. Stunned. His cheek warm, a flush of pink as he sits back at the bedside. Bewildered and bemused.

"Ah, that's- You're... welcome." In spite of himself, Stede finds a smile growing on features. If anyone was fascinating, it was Ed. Quirks and charm all his own. Washing up into Stede's life just when he thought his chances for adventure and interest were long since over.

"You're quite the intriguing man yourself, Ed. If I could ask one little thing, is this kissing in thanks a custom of yours?" A realisation he came to on the second instance. Many of the gentry and Parisians greeted with pecks on the cheek. This, however, he hadn't come across before. Feeling a little too intimate of a gesture for two strangers to share. But who was he to judge?

#verse; light me up again #to laden in finery; ed (fxckin-blackbeard)

[lighthousepyrate]

|| Continued from (x) @fxckin-blackbeard ||

This was going to be perfect. An idea that came to him flipping through the pages of an old book, one of the few surviving his life at land and sea and everywhere in between. A flower, falling out onto his lap. Twisted between his fingers. Silk. Not one of those pressed and forgotten about, meaningful all the same. From a night that felt a lifetime ago. Worn in an arrangement, tucked in silver tresses. Saved as a keepsake. He still recalled the way Ed’s eyes lit up, seeing his collection of hair décor. Drawn to the silken Edelweiss in particular. A wonderful choice, he told him.

And when Stede saw a florist in the seaside town where they made port, it only bolstered his plans.

His mother taught him about flowers. Crafting arrangements for display throughout the mansion. Gentle hands guiding his picks to the vases, careful to wait for his father’s absence. Knowing the ire they’d suffer should he catch them. He remembered the meanings she taught him. Changing over the years as the art developed. Still in its infancy, really. Only a book or two offering its teachings. Ordering the bouquet was the easy bit. Sneaking it back aboard the ship proved more of a challenge. He managed to, concealing it until he felt the time was right.

“Hi,” Stede chirps, head popping out onto the sunlit deck. He watches Edward briefly, masterfully sailing the ship. Even now, it set his heart aflutter. He’s quick to hop up the stairs, practically skipping as he reveals the flowers from behind his back. “Oh, you know. I just happened upon a florist in town. They are aren’t they?” A sing-song tone, smiling brightly. Giddy and gleeful. “Not quite. Although they would definitely brighten the place up a bit."

"No, they’re for you, my dearest.”

#verse; surely to the sea #to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard) #//he's so pleased with himself

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|| Continued from (x) @fxckin-blackbeard ||

He sees it. That glint of pain in his eyes. He hears it. Those words that made his heart ache.

Echoes of a life that denied him softness. Leaving the lingering doubt that he even deserved it. But he did. Deserving of every moment Stede could provide him. Something he would never stop showing him. Through every tender touch. In each kind word and compliment. Wrapping him in the gentleness of the life they built together. Where they could pick flowers and watch the clouds. Where they could swim in the sea and laugh until their cheeks hurt and their sides were sore.

"Well," he starts, leaning into the touch. "Thank you. Though I can't say I agree with you there." A pause. For a moment, he looks pensive. Eyes seeming to search for something in Ed's features. "No, not a one. Not a single thing I can think of that's prettier than you, my dearest." He smiles, playful yet wholly honest. "Your hands," his head turns into Edward's hand, pressing a kiss to his palm. "Your hair," a hand reaches to brush a stray curl behind his ear. "Your smile," he moves to place a kiss to his lips. "Your eyes," Stede gazes into them. So utterly and deeply in love.

"My darling Ed, you're beautiful."

#to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard) #verse; bridge over troubled waters

[lighthousepyrate]

Continued from (x)

The words cut deeper than any knife ever could. A pang in his chest and eyes growing glassy. He knew Ed was lashing out, purposefully trying to hurt him. He tried to take it with grace. Keep a stiff lip that trembled in spite of his attempts to stop it. This was what he deserved, wasn’t it?  A bottle raised, thrown to shatter against the wall.

And suddenly, he’s a boy again. Hands thrown over his ears and eyes squeezed shut. Anticipating a thrashing that never came. Only more words. Ed’s words. Confirming his worst fears all at once. That Ed hated him. Was better off without him. Baby Bonnet. Always crying, always cowering. Weak. Pathetic. Coward-

“I know!” Stede screams, eyes snapping open. “I know,” he says, softer this time. The tears fall freely now, breaths shuddering with sobs he couldn’t hold in.

“I panicked! Okay? I panicked. And I’m sorry. I regret leaving you. I didn’t want to, but you’re right. I am a coward. I never meant to hurt you, but I was scared. So scared I brought the greatest pirate to reign. Chauncey was right. I defile beautiful things. Our love… I ruined it.”

#to laden in finery; ed (fxckin-blackbeard) #verse; bridge over troubled waters #{ic}

[lighthousepyrate]

“It’s not a ‘trigger’! I don’t have ‘triggers’! The only 'trigger' I have is on my fuckin' pistol! There’s nothing wrong with me, otherwise! I’m perfectly normal!”

"Oh, come on now, Ed. I didn't say that, and you know that's not what I meant, either." Watching him pace around the cabin, Stede frowns. It wasn't the first time he saw him like this. The underhanded comments of some snooty French captain getting under his skin. His first real dalliance with the passive-aggressive arseholery of the uppercrust.

Though this time around proved more aggressive than passive, overt in their distaste and remarks.

"Why don't you sit down with me? We can talk about it." Whether the other man takes him up on the offer or not, Stede starts to speak. "It's like the trigger on your pistol, actually. Except instead of firing a bullet, it sets off memories and feelings in your head. Not very good ones." A pause. "It happens to me, too," he adds. Wanting to show Edward he wasn't alone in the experience.

#to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard)

[lighthousepyrate]

|| @fxckin-blackbeard ||

Everything came down to this. Smile painted on his face, Stede took tentative steps onto the stage. Just a little one. Tucked in the corner of the room, barely big enough for the sound system. Realised as he bumped into the microphone stand, almost knocking it over with his electric guitar. The echo of feedback turning even more heads than before. He apologises, flashing a nervous grin. Why did he think this was a good idea?

It'll be fine. No one's expecting you to be perfect, it's just open mic at Jackie's. Besides, it's all for a good time, right? The words of one of his students, Lucius, rang through his head. Steadying his nerves enough that he remembered to breathe. He was right, to a degree. But this meant so much more to Stede than simply having fun. Tonight was make it or break it. A true test of his resolve. If he was finally ready.

"Hello, my name is Stede. I'll be your singer here tonight." He looks out over the audience, finding a decent mixture of smiles, eye rolls, and indifference. Taking a deep breath, he plays the first few chords. Music? Absolutely ridiculous. All that time wasted on lessons and you can hardly carry a tune. A sour note. His hands start shaking. Please, not now. He could do it. He knew he could. Needed to.

"I was born in a thunderstorm..."

Shouting. Slammed doors. Arguments bleeding from one day into the next. His father's ire and his mother's absence.

"I grew up overnight."

A wife. Two children. Quarrels and qualms never settled. Distant eyes and a longing for something different.

"I played alone, I played on my own..."

Loneliness. Something that plagued him his whole life. Something that must be wrong with him. Inadequate and worthless.

"But I-" Feedback drowned out his words, panic stealing his breath. "I-I survived..."

His fingers fumbled over the chords, shaking too much to play the right notes. Warmth rushed to his cheeks, embarrassment and shame. He couldn't do it. He tried so hard, and he still failed. He looks out to the crowd again, desperation and fear clouding his mind. Murmurs start, and he knows what they must be saying. Loser. Joke of a man. Pathetic.

And suddenly he looked so out of place, like he didn't belong. Like he never belonged.

#verse; changing tides #to laden in finery; ed (fxckin blackbeard) #//hehehe

[lighthousepyrate]

The Return

Oh bollocks. Stede dived out of reach, dropping into a haphazard roll across the floor. While his swordsmanship improved greatly from, well, basically nothing, he still wasn’t the best in the chaos of fight. Thankfully, his lack of unique style made up for a lot of it, throwing his opponent long enough for him to dodge or escape. It didn’t work this time, face to face with a naval officer that wouldn’t relent for a more typical fight.

Follow the hips and thighs, where they face the rest of the body always follows. They tell more than feet.

The words rang in his head, eyes focusing on their mid section. Count, count, count. Find the rhythm, follow it. Stede watched, holding the defensive. Don’t step on their toes, just like the waltz. Watch their wrist, keep track of the blade. Step, step, swing. Step, step, swing. He sidestepped, pivoting and coming up behind them. One hard strike to the back of their head and they crumpled, sword clattering against the deck. He did it!

It all happened so suddenly. Some old naval officer drowning his sorrows at Spanish Jackie's, talking about how they were 'finally going to take down Blackbeard'. The rest was a blur. Wrangling the crew together. Commandeering a fishing vessel, rigging it up for speed with one part knowledge and three parts luck. Finding the ships locked in battle. Cannon fire and crying out for Ed as he swam. Climbing aboard in the heat of the fight.

Stede spun around, freezing. Time slowed, the cacophony of fighting fading into a roar of static. Blackbeard staggered back, blood dripping down his side, leaving a trail on the deck. His back touched the railing. And in a blink, he was gone. Overboard. Everything came rushing back. The ferocious yell of Izzy Hands plunging his sword through the shooter’s chest. The calls of the crew to toss over a line.

“Edward!” He cried, desperate. The next thing he knew, he was running. Ignoring the shouts behind him. Tying a line around his middle. Dodging the hand that tried snatching his arm. He reached the railing, eyes darting across the ocean surface. There. Bubbles and water staining red. Clambering over the railing, Stede didn’t hesitate.

He dove.

@fxckin-blackbeard

#to laden in finery; ed (fxckin-blackbeard) #verse; bridge over troubled waters #{ic} #//hehehe #whenever i post this it was done april 25th #2022 #and modified today #November 2023