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Stede fucking Bonnet.
Izzy had been certain they'd seen the last of him when Ed arrived alone, a shell of his former self. After a precarious teething period, when Blackbeard finally returned and proved himself again to his loyal first mate, Izzy was even more certain.
Bonnet was gone. Maybe dead, even. Regardless, he wouldn't be coming back.
Normalcy resumed. Blackbeard began to uphold his infamous status once more. Izzy had nine toes to prove it.
Things were good. They led raids, tossing men overboard and looting anything of worth. Izzy ran through hundreds of men, and took satisfaction in imagining each of them as a certain aristocratic twat.
Everything was as it should be.
Then it all went to shit.
Three months. Three fucking months and Stede fucking Bonnet waltzes in with no more than the clothes on his back and a sunburnt, bitter crew of six men who have somehow managed to navigate their way straight back into Izzy's joyless life despite being mediocre pirates.
And what does Blackbeard do? does he run Stede through? does he cut off his toes and feed them to his crew? does he simply throw him overboard?
No. After some satisfying (for Izzy) yelling, and much less satisfying weeping, the two of them disappear to the Captain’s quarters and remain there for the better part of three hours.
Then Stede sashays out in his old dressing gown (which Izzy thought had been flung to the depths of the sea) to fetch half a loaf of bread and a jar of marmalade, cheered on by the useless bunch of halfwits he calls his crew.
Izzy nearly throws up into the ocean. He leans over the side of the ship, staring at his reflection in the water, wondering what the fuck he did to deserve this, and inhales deeply, willing his stomach to remain still.
"Not Izzy the spewer at it again?" the plummy voice he thought permanently extinguished echoes through his mind, before he realises it's coming from outside. He turns to see a significantly skinnier Lucius standing next to him, new notebook and quill in hand.
"How the fuck are you alive." It's more of a statement than a question really, but of course the boy responds.
"A rope, several secret passages, and the kindness of Jim and Frenchie." He shrugs. "You're not going to try and kill Stede are you? 'cos he's actually gotten a bit better at swordplay and also it would break Ed's heart."
"His name. Is Blackbeard." He grounds out, turning to face the boy at close proximity. Lucius simply smiles down at him in the effortlessly confident way that really gets on Izzy's tits.
"Right. I hate to break this to you but him and Stede? what they have for each other is love. Real love, genuine, healthy love," he speaks earnestly, and every word is a kick in the teeth for Izzy, "so if I were you I'd move on. God knows he's shown who he'd pick if he was asked."
"Fuck off." Izzy spits, unable to think of a better response. "You just don't understand why someone would pledge their life and service to their captain because yours is an incompetent buffoon."
"I serve myself and the people I care about." Lucius shrugs again. "And if I were going to swear allegiance to a captain, I'd make sure I knew what I was getting into. Who I was really pledging myself to."
"Meaning?" It pisses him off and impresses him in equal parts that Lucius remains standing so close.
"Blackbeard? it's a facade. An image, an icon. But underneath that figure is a man, and men make mistakes. Have flaws. Humanity. Ed is a deeply troubled man who's craved love for a very long time. I think he deserves to be happy." and with that, he walks away.
Izzy throws up.
Another week passes. Stede fucking Bonnet and Blackbeard spend their time practicing swordfighting and making eyes at each other over breakfast. Izzy even overhears Ed having Lucius transcribe some poetry he's writing about Stede. Some shit about lighthouses, he really doesn't care to know.
Izzy is in crisis.
His whole life, years of service devoted to this man. The dreaded Blackbeard, the kraken, the terror of the high seas.
A man who is currently plaiting his hair with flowers Stede fucking Bonnet picked on the mainland.
He's fucked. Everything he's done in life has been meaningless. A complete waste of time. He considers dying. His whole life has been rendered pointless, after all. Where's the dignity in having it drag onward?
Pirates don't live long anyway.
He's staring into the depths of the ocean again, considering flinging himself overboard, when he hears the incessant whine of what might as well be a mosquito at his side once more.
"So, this midlife crisis thing you're doing? bringing the vibe down a bit. Have you considered channelling your feelings through art? poetry perhaps? I could teach you to sketch."
"Fuck. Off." He doesn't even look at Lucius, but feels the insistent presence remain.
"I suppose I know what it's like, to some extent. To be disappointed by someone. God knows I've been there. Whole reason I took on this job to be honest."
"I am nothing like you." He growls.
"Yeah well, I'm happy and well-adjusted I suppose." Lucius muses.
"Why are you even talking to me?" Izzy frowns with disdain, "what do you want?"
"I suppose," Lucius thinks aloud, "you have...certain redeeming qualities."
"What are you on about, you little pervert?"
"Not like that!" he shakes his head rapidly, "well, maybe a little, but that's not what I meant. I'm talking about your unwavering loyalty. I don't really understand it myself, but I can respect it."
"It comes with the territory." He insists. "No point serving a captain you don't respect. One you wouldn't be willing to die for."
Lucius makes a face. "Can't say I'd die for Stede."
"That's 'cos he's a good for nothing twat."
"Well, regardless, I find your loyalty...admirable, okay? And I can see you're really fucked up by everything that's happening, and I want to help."
"You can help me by fucking off."
"Oh come on...what about a sketch?" the little harlot bats his eyelashes.
"No." Izzy glances around the ship, wary of someone overhearing the suggestion and make fun.
"Izzy, babe, no one cares. Everyone's been sketched at this point,” he leans in and lowers his voice conspiratorially, “I sketched Ed and Stede in the nude together." Izzy shudders at the mental image.
And then, for some fucking reason which can only be attributed to his current fragile mental state, he finds himself agreeing.
A few of the other crewmembers shoot him bemused looks as he follows the boy down into the cabins, but the pure hatred he’s sure to be radiating puts them off from asking questions.
Lucius leads him into the empty Rec Centre, and from just outside he can hear Ed in the Captains’ quarters playing something on the guitar, Stede cooing with delight. He shuts the door hard behind him, satisfied when it muffles the irritating twaddle.
Lucius shoots him a slightly panicked look before moving to grab a folded up chair leaning against the wall, unpacking it and dragging it into the centre of the room with a flourish. All his art supplies are already here, and Izzy wonders if he had gathered them here beforehand, in anticipation of him agreeing to be sketched. The thought pisses him off.
“The lighting’s not the best,” he speaks apologetically, gesturing for Izzy to sit, “but to be honest the only place it is good is well, the captains’ quarters, and-”
“I’d rather be hanged.”
“That’s what I thought.” Lucius surmises, grabbing himself a chair and pulling it a healthy distance from Izzy before sitting down, appraising his subject.
Izzy does not care for being looked at, and after only a moment snaps, “Right, start fucking drawing then. What’s the hold-up?”
“Just trying to figure out how I want you to look.” He frowns in thought. “Could, could you try different poses?”
Izzy simply stares at him, arms crossed until Lucius gives up. “Fine, like that will do.”
The whole process takes close to an hour. Izzy isn’t particularly used to sitting down for long periods of time. Pirates don’t have time to laze about, not respectable ones. It’s another reason why Stede fucking Bonnet makes for such a shit Captain.
“Stop thinking about Stede.” Lucius instructs quietly.
Izzy glares. “What makes you think I’m thinking about that twat?”
“You look about 30% more pissed off and he tends to be the reason for a lot of your anger.” Lucius sighs. “Don’t worry, I’ve still managed to capture your baseline grumpiness.”
“Good.” It’s a stupid response, but Lucius gives him a genuine, almost fond smile, and Izzy tries hard not to think about the fact that it’s the first time he’s directed that kind of look at him, the first time anyone has, for a while.
When the hour is up, Lucius brings the sketch over to show him. It’s not a bad likeness, he has to admit, the boy certainly captured him in a formidable light, a worthy first mate of the once fearsome Blackbeard. There’s something else there too though, a kind of quiet contemplation playing on his sketch-self’s face. It shows he has depth.
Lucius is grinning with pride, but all Izzy says is “Right. Get back to work.” before he leaves without a backward glance, the image of the sketch burned into his mind almost as much as Lucius’s smile is.
The next time they interact properly, beyond Izzy barking orders anyway, he actually initiates it. In fairness, it’s a purely strategic decision. Good for their ship, nothing more.
Dusk is setting over the ocean, and he’s getting in some swordfighting practice on deck. Only Lucius is up here (other than Buttons, but he’s stark naked at the front of the foremast, and they both seem to have mutually decided to ignore him). He sits maybe ten metres away, mindlessly scribbling away in Stede fucking Bonnet’s journal. Izzy wonders whether he might be sketching him, before deciding he doesn’t care if he is.
However, another thought concerning the boy does occur to him.
“You ever used one of these before?” Lucius glances around himself, as though checking to see if Izzy is speaking to him.
“Uh, no.” His hand is suspended above the page, and it’s clear he isn’t sure how long this interaction will last.
For some reason, Izzy decides to prolong it. “You should really learn. You’ll get yourself killed the next time we’re in combat.”
“I’m more of a lover than a fighter, so.” He shrugs smugly.
Izzy scoffs. “You can’t fuck your way out of an ambush. Come on. I’ll show you a few moves.”
Lucius opens his mouth, perhaps about to disagree, before Izzy’s words seem to catch up to him and he pales. “Uh...okay.” He stands up awkwardly, placing the book on the ground and brushing himself off.
Lucius is a fucking useless swordsman. He’s uncoordinated, graceless, and makes pathetic whimpering noises each time he parries. They move for close to an hour and a half, and by the end of it Izzy is starting to think the boy might have better luck seducing attackers after all.
He chucks his sword on the ground and crosses his arms as the boy slumps to the ground, panting, not even trying to hide his exertion. It’s really quite-
“Pathetic.” He spits. “How the fuck do you not know how to fight? you’re meant to be a pirate.”
“Well, Stede is my Captain and I was hired for my ability to read and write so...I guess it’s not a typical pirate situation.” He pulls his shirt by the collar and fans himself dramatically.
“Why the fuck would you join a pirate ship if you’re learned?” it’s something Izzy’s wondered a few times now, not that he’s mentioned it. None of the pirates he knows can read, let alone write and sketch. This pretty boy stumbling around without the ability to even fight makes a mockery of all of them.
“I’m outrageously camp and the people back home don’t appreciate that, so.” He shrugs simply. “Wasn’t about to settle down and have children any time soon, so in their eyes I’m better off of the face of the earth. Out of sight, out of mind and all that.”
Well, he’s self-aware, if nothing else.
Izzy simply grunts. “We’ll try again some other time. Getting fucking dark.”
He passes Blackbeard and Stede fucking Bonnet on the way to his own quarters, but for once doesn’t pay them any mind. His body is aching and he’s wondering if there are simpler methods of teaching swordfighting.
They practice again a few more times over the next couple of weeks. Lucius is still pretty terrible, but not quite as bad as he was when they first began. Occasionally there are onlookers, Black Pete “give him hell, babe”, Olu and Jim “can you do that?” and at one point, Swede, who simply gawps at them without speaking at all.
It’s a bit fucking annoying, but Izzy is able to focus on the task at hand, and thankfully the gormless halfwits are all too intimidated to join in (though Swede looks like he’s thinking about it).
It gives Izzy something to do. After all, Ed might have lost his fucking nerve, but someone needs to set an example. If only to ensure they aren’t immediately killed the next time they attempt a raid.
Unfortunately, that’s exactly what nearly happens. Stede fucking Bonnet, the bane of Izzy’s fucking existence, decides he’s up for raiding another British vessel. Smaller than the warship they bested in the past, but still holding four times the men they have.
They scrape through it, barely coming out with everyone alive. There’s a couple of near casualities, one of which is-
“Lucius!” he hears Black Pete’s hoarse shriek and is immediately flooded with dread. He drags himself forward, still exhausted from the constant fighting that preceded their quick retreat, over to the front of the ship. There the boy is sprawled out on the ground, a deep wound in his chest where he’s been run through. Stede is at his side, faffing about uselessly, and Black Pete joins him, grabbing Lucius’s hand and beginning to pray, something no one’s seen him do before.
They’re so fucking incompetent.
Izzy of course, is panicking too. For some reason, some unthinkable reason, he’s genuinely scared to lose this weak excuse for a pirate. He stomps past the others, all yelling and fussing over Lucius, and begins barking out orders, barely hearing the words once they’ve left his lips.
Whatever he’s saying, it’s being received. The crew hurry about, fetching water and rags and alcohol and a needle, and before long Roach is sewing the boy up like a giant lanky ragdoll.
He goes to check on him, in the middle of the night when he knows no one will see. He’s been placed in the Captains’ bed, who are no doubt tucked away somewhere. Lucius is wrapped up in one of Stede fucking Bonnet’s dressing gowns, a flouncy green number which Izzy thinks is pretentious as fuck but somehow suits the pretty boy. He sleeps soundly, a slight grimace of pain on his pale face.
Without even thinking about what he’s fucking doing, he leans forward and strokes the boy’s pallid cheek, resting his hand there for a moment while Lucius inhales deeply, wincing as he does.
He hears a soft cough behind him and whips around, retracting his hand and reaching for his sword.
Ed stands in that stupid fucking red dressing gown, half-way through the entrance into what appears to be a secret fucking passage, because Lucius had mentioned his stupid fucking captain having those built into the ship, hadn’t he?
The man he used to have so much respect for offers him a knowing smile. “Couldn’t sleep eh, Izzy? he’ll be fine. Tougher than he looks.”
Izzy simply turns on his heel and leaves.
Lucius is fine, of course. Within weeks he’s back to his normal self, albeit a little slower and stiffer in his movements. He has to be in a significant amount of pain but manages to be cheeky and conversational with everyone, even jokes about taking a break from the sword lessons, which Izzy simply grunts at in response. It’s only when he’s alone, and thinks he’s unobserved that he truly lets himself look bothered, his face twisting into a tight grimace when he attempts to lift things or move in certain ways.
Izzy hates that he notices these things now.
Black Pete is practically stuck to Lucius’s side, offering to help with everything in an overbearing manner that clearly frustrates the other man.
Izzy hates that their easy, open relationship bothers him so much. It’s something he knows he’ll never have. The closest he ever came to something like that was his devotion to Blackbeard, and everyone’s seen how fucking abysmal that’s turned out. Even if they don’t seem to be aware of the issue in Ed gallavanting around eating marmalade and playing dress-up.
Still, it’s getting a bit much now. He’s decided against suicide. It’s a nasty fucking business and a bit of a waste. He’s a decent fighter, has a wealth of piracy experience and before long could surely find a new, less inept crew to worm his way into. It’s just a matter of getting off at the next port.
He’s packing his things up the night before they make port, preparing to leave the next morning. He’ll shake Ed’s hand, ignore Stede fucking Bonnet, say his farewells and fuck off. Simple as.
“Are you...are you leaving?”
Only it’s not fucking simple.
He turns to face Lucius, who is leaning against the door, hand folded on his chest, where Izzy knows underneath the thin layer of fabric is a puckered scar, the first on an otherwise unblemished body.
“Yeah.” He grunts, turning back to continue folding what little clothes he has.
“Why?”
He sighs. “My time here’s come to its end. Blackbeard-Ed, doesn’t need me anymore. He’s not the man he used to be.”
“And that’s why he needs you more than ever.” Lucius’s tone is incredulous. “Seriously, we’re fucked without you here.”
“That’s not my problem anymore.” Izzy states.
Behind him, Lucius groans. “Seriously Izzy, why are you doing this?”
He spins around abruptly, shirt in hands. “Why do you care?”
“Come on.” Lucius stalks forward, rolling his eyes.
“Well?” Izzy asks plainly.
“I...” the boy trails off. It’s rare that he’s lost for words. Izzy wonders what he’ll come out with next. Some bullshit about needing more fighting lessons, probably. Or a plea to teach him how to sail.
It’s not his fault he works with such a useless crew, Izzy supposes.
“Do I really need to say it?” Lucius looks down before meeting his eyes again. The boy looks...almost vulnerable. It’s a rare and confusing sight, and Izzy feels almost paralysed with uncertainty.
Then Lucius turns and walks away. Izzy is flooded with equal parts relief and despair.
This shifts straight back into apprehension again a moment later, as Lucius returns, now holding his journal. Gulping, he appears to take a deep breath before shoving it into Izzy’s arms awkwardly, standing back in agitation.
Izzy frowns at him before opening it. The first few pages are all just random notes on piracy, no doubt ordered by Stede fucking Bonnet. It’s inane and irrelevant, and he shoots Lucius a bemused look.
“Toward the back.” He instructs warily, fidgeting with his shirt collar.
He flips through until he’s close to the end.
There he sees himself. Pages and pages of him in sketch form. From the initial drawing, to Izzy fighting, sailing, leaning over the side of the railing in thought, chewing bread, even smiling, something he’s certain he’s never done in front of any of this lot.
“What?” he practically breathes it, but Lucius seems to understand.
“I know you’ll find this hard to believe, but there are actually people here who care about you, Izzy.” He shrugs. “Me included, obviously. If the drawings weren’t a giveaway.”
“You just like sketching.” He dismisses the words as quickly as they fall out of the boy’s mouth.
“I mean, that is true, but,” he steps closer, and Izzy can feel the boy’s warm breath on his face, “not this much.”
“You...” he blinks uncertainly, “have your little boyfriend. Black Pete. I’m not sure what you want from me-”
“It’s not the most...conventional relationship.” He blinks coquettishly. “He knows how much I like you,” and then he’s reaching out and touching Izzy’s face with the palm of his hand, and it takes everything, all his fucking willpower not to lean into it, “I know it seems weird, to someone who’s as big on loyalty as you are but...sometimes you just love multiple people, and that’s okay.”
“You don’t love me.” Nobody loves Izzy. They all despise him. Blackbeard never even loved him, and he had the most reason to. If he could devote his whole life to one person and they couldn’t even love him, well, that was pretty damning.
“I’m sorry you believe that.” Lucius continues stroking his cheek. Izzy’s resolve is waning. “But if you stay on this ship I will show you every day how wrong that is.”
“Why would I do that.” Somehow he manages to continue resisting the lure of this siren. It takes every fiber of his being to do so.
Lucius rolls his eyes, sassy nature coming through as it inevitably does, “Christ Izzy, because you’re clearly in need of it. You want to be loved, and held, and cherished in the same way that every one does. Let. Me.”
And then he leans in and Izzy finds he is absolutely powerless to resist the kiss he gives him. Soft, and pliant, and giving and yearning and everything he never fucking dared to even dream of, and if this is why Ed lost his nerve it’s a damn good fucking reason he supposes, before he stops thinking and just melts into it.
Lucius is giggling softly as he pulls away, and Izzy finds he has just enough awareness to pull him down by the collar and growl “shut up.”
“Yep, fair enough.” but Lucius continues to smile in a joyful, albeit slightly smug way, and Izzy finds he can’t find it in him to berate him in that moment.
For once, he’s completely void of anger.