Passing Ships | Our flag means death

Healing old wounds

Despite only opening a few weeks ago, their establishment had become the trending place to dine at; word of mouth spread like wildfire, telling of unusual dishes that no one had tried before. Being a travelled man allowed Ed to pay homage to the unique culinary techniques the tribal and indigenous people taught him along the way. That paired with Stede's unrivalled imagination and creativity, their food became something that no other place served.
Once they were firmly on their feet, Oluwande and Jim took their leave with a teary goodbye from the men they had sailed with and survived with. Buttons had also decided to return to the sea, finding himself far more suited to that environment.

As for what remained of their crew, they found new ways to apply their skills. Frenchie of course serenaded their customers with rousing ballads and jolly shanties. When he wasn't strumming, he was gambling with Wee John. However, it was less gambling and more akin to scamming those with heavy pockets. They'd pick out fiery, drunk men and challenge them into foolish bets; with some taunting remarks, they had goaded many arrogant bastards into losing their wealth. Meanwhile, Black Pete poured the drinks for those men along with Stede who socialised from behind the bar, managing to befriend all who dined or drank there. Finally, Lucius balanced the books and counted coins.

They were safe, fed, and financially well and Stede was blessed to have his husband's kiss soothe him every night and his serene beauty ease his eyes when the morning sun stung them. Despite the bird song signalling daybreak, his waking hours still felt like a dream-- the warmth of the body sleeping next to him, the sweet notes of jasmine in the air, the feeling of utter wholeness that flooded his chest and threatened to burst it.
Sitting among the fruit trees, the husbands ate a breakfast of homegrown figs and fresh bread with marmalade.
"Stede?" Ed uttered, as he accepted a tea from him.
"Mhm?"
"How come you never celebrate your birthday?"
He set down his own drink and lifted a sceptical brow.
"Mary mentioned it when she was here. Everyone else got a celebration but you refused it," Ed clarified.
Stede sighed, a crease forming on a forehead that clearly held unfortunate memories, "I never had birthday parties or cake or presents even as a boy. My father thought I didn't deserve the title I inherited let alone any loving gifts. That and the fact my birthday coincides with the anniversary of my mother's death. So every year when that day rolls around, I just treated it like any other day."
"That's so...sad...Everyone deserves a day entirely devoted to them."
He shrugged and promptly shifted the conversation onto Mary's most recent letter in which she disclosed that Evelyn had been receiving many visits from a certain lady pirate. His past clearly was not a topic he enjoyed dwelling on. Once they had their fill, they set off on their chores, not wanting to waste daylight.
Stede hefted up his axe and swung down onto the log before him; Ed had taught him how to split logs for firewood and he had become rather adept at it, even gaining broader shoulders. The wood cracked in two. And so he repeated. Crack. Crack. Crack.
Crack like the duck's neck when his father's knife cleaved it. Crack like the gunshot that blasted through Badminton's head. Crack like the pistol he thought had slain Ed on that beach.
He could feel the warmth of the blood that splattered onto him in those memories as if he were there right now. His axe dropped and he staggered back, placing a hand on a heart that thundered like a rabbit.

After settling himself, he carried the wood to the kitchen where he greeted Ed while he prepped for another busy day. He assembled today's fire before moving to embrace him from behind. Ed playfully elbowed him away, "Woah there. You're all sweaty! And covered in soot!"
Stede evaded his defence to hold his waist and press close with a chuckle, "since when has that ever stopped you."
Ed turned to him, leaning back on the counter with a smug smirk that faltered when he truly saw his pale face. His hands shot up to cradle Stede's jaw, "Are you feeling alright?" he pressed a hand to his forehead. "You are feeling a little feverish. You've been working too hard, take today off."
"No, no, I'm fine. I'm...happy."
"You have a strange way of looking it."
"I'm just... I don't want it to end. I'm scared that I can lose everything as easily as I lost you on that beach-"
He was interpreted with a brief kiss. He gave Ed a questioning look.
"That was to stop you talking nonsense. You didn't lose me. I'm right here, aren't I? And I'm not going anywhere, none of this is. I'll keep us safe, love. It'll take every hound in hell to tear me away from you."
They shared one more tender kiss before parting ways to return to their work. In the blink of an eye, it was evening and the two husbands were tending the bar for the stragglers. Stede would've enjoyed his company if Ed did not innocently happen to be directly behind him every time he bent over to grab a tankard. Stede's gaze shifted to the man that absentmindedly scratched his dagger against the bar.
"Ah! Kindly refrain from doing that, my good sir. It ruins the finish on the wood," Stede chirped.
The strangers lips curled back to reveal browned teeth, "Or what? You gon' gut me over a bit of wood? Or would the blood ruin your frock, fancy boy?"
Stede rolled his eyes and snatched the dagger away but this only escalated the situation as the man grabbed him with a fistful of his shirt and spat, "give that back, milksop."
"Are you going to behave yourself?" Retorted stede.
A gnarled hand cut across his cheek, leaving a stinging pain in the wake of its ringed fingers. His head snapped to the side to catch Ed with a frighteningly murderous glint in his eyes as he effortlessly hopped over the bar and grabbed the man by the back of his collar, dragging him off his stool and throwing him onto the cobblestones outside. He ranted curses but a kick to the stomach had him silenced. Ed stepped back inside, dusted his hands and gave the room a charming smile, "Listen to who pours the drinks and you won't end up like our friend out there."

The last of their patrons slowly trickled out and Stede gently held Ed's chin and kissed his cheek, "Thank you for earlier."
He engulfed the hand on his chin with his own, his thumb brushing over the wedding ring. "I said I'll keep you safe, didn't I?"
"I could've handled it."
Ed smiled and tucked stray hairs from Stede's face. "I don't doubt that. But your hands are too clean to fight with. Mine are plenty bloodied so a drop more won't matter."
Stede's expression softened and he joined their foreheads, brushing his lips against the coarse hand that cupped his cheek, "I love you."
Ed didn't return it but pecked his nose and trailed kisses to between his brows, "go up warm the bed for me, okay? I'll be up in a jiffy."

Following his request, he heaved his wearied limbs under the linen sheets and buried his face into a pillow where Ed's scent still lingered. He attempted to fend off the droop in his eyelids until Ed returned but unconsciousness had him in its clutch.
The tap of stones being thrown at glass panes roused him back to reality and as he stretched his arms into emptiness, the tapping became an afterthought. He jolted upright to find himself alone. Nauseatingly icy dread seeped through his veins while visions of peril befalling his lover flooded his mind. When he checked the window, no one was there. He leapt down the stairs in the midst of dressing himself but an eerie quietness greeted him there as well. A note on a table caught his eye and he snatched it up but the thudding heartbeat in his head made it difficult to read. Thud like his father's knife cutting through the duck. Thud like the gunshot on the beach. Thud like a body hitting the ground.
He shook such nightmares from his brain and squinted his eyes in the dim light:

'Meet me on the beach -Ed'

Stede's distress only increased but this time it was because of returning to that dreaded place. He hadn't been there since it all happened and he sure as hell didn't want to go there now. But he had no choice. He grabbed the oil lantern and scrambled outside, pushing the lump inside his throat, the pit in his stomach and his rising dismay all down. Every step closer grew more taxing and yet the need to see his lover safe spurred him forward.
Gentle, rhythmic waves lapped against sand illuminated by a sky full of stars. It was ethereal but tainted by trauma. He scanned the beach but yet again an unwelcome quietness was all that existed there. A flash of light tugged his focus and he turned to the lonely lighthouse sitting on the rocks. The light flashed again. And again. And soon he realised that there was a pattern behind it. He lurched back in his memory to scrape up the morse code his father insisted on teaching him. Slowly he deciphered the flickers into letters.

I love you.

That fool. Stede rushed up the many stairs of the lighthouse and onto the balcony where Ed stood whole and unharmed. The lamp clattered to the ground as he tackled him in a fierce hug, nearly knocking him off the railings. He grabbed Ed's face, "do you know how scared I was? What are you doing out here you nut."
"Happy birthday," He replied with a sheepish smile.
Stede had been so shaken he never even realised what day it was.
"You never had a day devoted to you so this is it. Today is your day. Whatever you want, wherever you wish to go, it's all up to you," He continued.
Stede shook his head in disbelief, still reeling from surprise and the adrenaline leaving his body, "but why all- all this with the lighthouse?"
Ed perched on the edge, his legs dangling as he looked out, "One of our regulars is the keeper of this place. He told me about this special code and I dunno I thought it would be nice. Plus the view from this is incredible. It reminds me of when we sat in the crow's nest and you had that yummy marmalade."
Stede chuckled and sidled next to him, leaning in to scattering of loving kisses Ed planted on his face, "you endearing fool... I don't even know what I want."
Ed squeezed his thigh, "Better think quick. The sun is coming up."
The horizon tinged turquoise and amber as the sun began to rear its head and the lovers watched the waters churn and reflect every stunning hue the sky displayed. Ed's head rested on his shoulder as Stede twirled his soft curls around his fingers and told him of everything he wanted. Most of it was utterly unattainable but the fact that he was allowed to want crazy and ridiculous things was cathartic enough. His life had been determined from birth, and he was born with so much it would be greedy to want for more. But here in this space, he could ask for the world itself and it would be okay.