Chapter Text
To say life on the Revenge had unexpectedly turned upside down would have been the biggest fucking understatement of the century. They’d lost Stede, most of the crew, even Ed, for the short time they’d had him. Which, maybe that wasn’t the right way to look at it, but it was how Frenchie was choosing to look at it. He didn’t recognize anything of the man he’d started to know. Not the man who’d asked him to play the music for his sad, little song, nor even the one who’d gotten angry at being made fun of by the rich, French bastards. Maybe that version was a little closer to what he was now, but it was still hard to believe the man Frenchie had sailed with for several weeks was this new captain.
Frenchie and Jim had talked about running, though Blackbeard had made it pretty clear that anyone running would be seen as a traitor and get shot in the back without hesitation. Frenchie wasn’t too keen on that, meaning if they were going to run for it, he’d very much like to have a proper plan in place. He’d had a cousin who’d gotten shot in the back. Statistically, going by his own known experiences, it didn’t go over so well.
The crew had been planning to make port soon though. For supplies and the like. Frenchie and Jim had discussed possibly making a run for it, only for Fang and Ivan to find them mid conversation.
Frenchie had thought for sure they’d fucked up. That this was it.
Shit had gotten a lot more complicated after that, but not because of Frenchie’s initial beliefs. Rather than slitting their throats then and there or dragging them up to the deck to be judged by Blackbeard, Ivan had very quietly placed a finger over his lips. Fang had then checked no one was outside the room before he knocked on a piece of wood. Two hard, rapid knocks, only for the section of the ship to fucking open.
If Frenchie’s life wasn’t so god damn stressful, he would have been delighted. Ok, even stressed, he’d been a little delighted, but that delight had turned to utter relief when none other than Lucius had poked his head out.
“Heeeey, so very much not dead. Any chance if there’s a getaway you’re planning, you could include me?”
That had been Lucius’ first words to them since thinking he was dead. He hadn’t managed to get in another word for a while as Jim and Frenchie had simply hugged him so god damn tight.
Still, as fucking great as it was that Blackbeard hadn’t actually killed Lucius for a number of reasons, it did make things a hell of a lot more complicated. Just two people trying to sneak away was difficult enough. Now there was Lucius to think about, and Fang and Ivan! Frenchie had suggested at first, “Well maybe we just...” but Lucius had put his foot down on the matter. The pair had saved his life. He wasn’t going to have either man sacrifice himself just to help them escape. It was all of them or none at all.
Jim hadn’t been too happy about that, but they’d surprised Frenchie again. Considering they had left the crew after all, Frenchie had thought for sure they’d cut their losses and move on now. Yet they hadn’t.
“It’s not what Oluwande would have wanted. You’re his family which means you’re my family now. We look after each other.”
They had then quickly pushed everyone off of them as they had all tried to hug Jim while a chorus of ‘ahs’ and ‘Jim, you’ve gone soft’ came from their lips. It was honestly a big relief Jim wasn’t going anywhere though. Sure, Fang and Ivan were experienced and they knew Blackbeard better than them, but Jim was definitely the best fighter. It was good to know they were still in their corner.
So, the plan to try and get two people off the Revenge changed to five. But how the hell were they going to do that without looking damn suspicious? If nothing else, Izzy would catch on, and there was the rest of Blackbeard’s original crew to think of too. They’d basically moved on from the Queen Anne’s Revenge meaning wherever Frenchie was, he was basically surrounded by men in leather. In a different context, that would have been great. As it stood, it meant trying to find privacy to talk to everyone at once was pretty damn hard and rare.
And then, before they could even get their planning really underway, another cog got thrown into the mix.
Stede was dead.
Maybe.
He might have also been alive.
Stede had retired.
He was sailing under an alias with his former crew.
It was all hearsay with a million different interpretations floating around about the former Gentleman Pirate. He’d got eaten by a jungle cat, crushed by a piano, was raiding English settlements left and right, or the most unrealistic one, had remarried and settled down somewhere in the Carolina colonies. Yeah, Frenchie was more likely to believe the getting crushed by a piano over that last one, and pianos were relatively ground centric instruments. It was pretty ridiculous to think Captain Bonnet had been crushed by one.
But then, that almost seemed to kind of be the point. No one really knew the truth. Least of all Blackbeard who seemed infuriated by it all when Izzy had first told him.
So came the discussion of, what next? Did they still try to escape?
Or...maybe they just stuck around.
Blackbeard had changed tactics of hitting random vessels and settlements to fully focused on tracking down Stede Bonnet. Any whisper of him, or his possible alias, Captain Thomas, they were now going after. Even if the five of them got off the Revenge safely, that left them with no ship and zero resources. Sure, Jim was a fucking badass and Frenchie liked to imagine him and Lucius could come up with a good idea or two, but it would still take time. At least Blackbeard, despite how crappy the work environment was, had the resources and connections that allowed for some quick zipping around the Caribbean and Atlantic. It seemed way more likely they’d find Stede Bonnet and their friends if they stuck it out on the Revenge.
And that was where Frenchie found himself now. Resigned to sticking it out aboard the Revenge . It was ironic, in a way. He’d been pretty ok with killing Stede at the beginning. He remembered the long conversations of their old crew. About wanting to be real pirates and how Stede was anything but. Now, Frenchie was on a real pirate ship and he wasn’t exactly fond of the idea. They didn’t even have bedtime stories anymore! What was the point of the crew all sleeping together if there weren’t bedtime stories?
But, he’d stick it out for now.
For the hope to see Oluwande again. Wee John. Even Stede he might just hug if he got the chance to see him again along with everyone else.
If Frenchie ever got that chance though, those days were still a way’s off. For the moment, Frenchie was taking his rations to Lucius. In order to keep suspicions low, Ivan, Fang, Jim, and Frenchie cycled through who gave their rations to Lucius each meal. It meant one of them had an emptier stomach each day, but it was safer than stealing food or even letting Lucius steal the food himself. Which, Lucius possibly could have. He’d mapped out the hidden passageways. Had shown the small group so they knew where the hidden doors were in case of an emergency, along with what few corridors Blackbeard knew of, which thankfully wasn’t many. Frenchie had no idea what kind of emergency might require them all to crowd into one of the hidden holes in the walls, but it was at least an option.
Now, Frenchie walked to the usual place where he’d pass the food to Lucius. It was near where they used to store the marmalade but now stored all the gunpowder. The space was usually pretty empty as long as there wasn’t a ship on the horizon or Blackbeard had given them plans for a raid. If Frenchie was lucky, he usually got a few minutes to actually talk to Lucius, but that night, he didn’t even get a chance to see his friend.
“What the hell are you doing back here?” hissed Izzy.
“Well, I am an artist. You know? Like to be alone with my thoughts. Thinking up lyrics—”
“That was a rhetorical question.”
“Which means...”
“I don’t fucking care. You’re needed on deck. Move.”
Frenchie decided it was best to just listen. Since knowing Fang and Ivan would back him up and were still on his and Jim’s side, and Blackbeard for whatever reason still wanted him on the ship even after sewing up their flag, Frenchie wasn’t really scared of Izzy. However, that didn’t mean he enjoyed listening to him yell. Despite immediately moving though, it apparently wasn’t quick enough as Izzy grabbed him and forced him to move faster. Frenchie’s rations fell onto the floor. Hopefully Lucius was able to grab them once they were out of the room.
“How are you so strong?” asked Frenchie as Izzy managed to pretty effectively push him forward despite his shorter stature. “Is it because of all that anger being shoved into a small bottle? Is it like concentrated orange juice?”
“Stop talking.”
“Fine. Fine. If it is like concentrated orange juice though, does that mean you’re more resilient to scurvy?”
That comment actually got Izzy to pause as he gave him a baffled look. “That doesn’t even make sense.”
“Do we have enough oranges by the way?” Frenchie asked, ignoring Izzy’s comment. “Cause last time, Swede started losing his teeth and again, don’t want to brag, artist here, and I’d like to keep all my—”
“We have enough fucking oranges! Just keep moving,” growled Izzy as he went back to grabbing Frenchie and dragging him along.
Frenchie decided not to risk any more of Izzy’s rage. At least not while Frenchie still didn’t know what he was needed for. He almost asked, but figured he’d find out soon enough. It wasn’t like it took more than a few minutes to get from one part of the ship to the other after all.
They came out on the deck, and the quiet was surprising. Usually, the waves were crashing against the sides, the wind was blowing, but it seemed as the ship drifted only by the slow current, they’d hit a bit of a dry spot. Metaphorically speaking. The ocean didn’t actually have dry spots. If it was daytime, then Blackbeard would have had them rowing until the wind built up again and caught their sails. As it was night, no one was actually out on deck except for Fang at the wheel. Everyone else was probably eating or getting ready to sleep for the night. Frenchie glanced at Fang. The man gave him a slight nod, but if he knew what this was about, Frenchie couldn’t gleam it from him.
Izzy finally stopped pushing and simply walked forward near to where the main mast was. Frenchie followed, only to immediately stop when Izzy suddenly drew his sword.
“Hey now. Blackbeard specifically said I was a part of this crew so—”
“You don’t even carry a sword with you. What kind of pirate are you? Pathetic,” Izzy interrupted.
He grabbed a sword that Frenchie hadn’t noticed at first. It had been sheathed and placed on some nearby barrels. Izzy threw it at Frenchie who immediately fumbled and dropped it. An incredibly painful sigh left Izzy like what he was about to do was worse than torture. Maybe for him it was. No one actually knew what had happened to his foot, but the rumors had gotten wild pretty damn quickly. He was wearing both boots now and not limping though, so whatever had happened he’d mostly recovered from.
When Frenchie still hadn’t moved after dropping his sword, Izzy groaned and said, “Pick it up, obviously.”
“Right, um, what’s this about?”
“You are a part of Blackbeard’s crew, and you are the weakest link when it comes to combat on this ship.”
“Well, actually I’d say I’m better than—”
“Who are you possibly better than?”
Frenchie quickly shut up. He’d almost said Lucius’ name. “Nope. You’re right. Definitely weakest link here, but I’d also like to add that I was brought on board for my other expertise—”
“This!” Izzy made a flourish with his sword as he pointed down at the deck. “Is a real pirate vessel now. It means we raid ships. It means combat is necessary, and I will not have one of our members looking weak.”
“It’s not that hard though, innit? Just sway your hips a bit, make sure your opponent doesn’t do a bitch move, and you’re good. I mean, if Stede could win against you—”
“A dual is different from a battle, and he didn’t even win that one fairly,” Izzy said through gritted teeth. “And as far as a bitch move goes, there are no bitch moves in battle. It’s all fair game so—”
Frenchie tried to act quickly. He grabbed an oar from a nearby dingy, threw it at Izzy which actually knocked his head back, unsheathed his sword, and then immediately fell flat on his face as he tripped over a rope. He glanced up and—
Was that a fucking a smile?
Not a, I’m making fun of you but doing it really poorly so here’s an uneasy smile before I start yelling at you again smile, but an actual, you caught me off guard but in an admirable way smile? It was gone in a flash.
Izzy rubbed his somewhat reddening nose. “That would have been impressive, if you hadn’t landed flat on your face.” Izzy tapped Frenchie’s chin with his sword until Frenchie was finally pushing himself to his feet. “As I was saying, anything goes in a battle. You’re part of Blackbeard’s crew which means you need to act like it. That includes the raiding and that means you need to learn how to fight considering for whatever fucking reason Blackbeard doesn’t have plans to throw you overboard.”
“And that’s where you come in. Huh? Gonna give me the good old one, two?”
“I would adore if this only took two lessons. Unfortunately, I fear this will be an ongoing process,” grumbled Izzy. “Now, pick up your sword and get into a starting stance.”
“And where do my feet go for the starting stance? Or is it more of a hip thing?”
“Oh, my fucking god!”
Yeah, this was going to be a long night.