Chapter Text
Izzy opened his eyes and saw the ocean through a pane of glass. He turned his head and saw a room that belonged in a manor house. He closed his eyes again. No fucking point in keeping them open if he was dreaming.
“Oh, are you awake?” a voice nearby said.
Izzy couldn’t bring himself to open his eyes again, but he turned towards the voice. His head felt full of cotton, thoughts were coming slow. Why would someone be waking him up?
“Is it my watch?” he murmured and tried to sit up. “I can-”
“No no, no need to get out of bed.” A firm hand tucked the blanket back up around his shoulders, the voice as unfamiliar as his surroundings. It was a kind voice though. It fit well into this lovely dream of a warm blanket around him, a soft pillow under his head. Amazing really that he could dream such detail. The voice continued “I don’t think you’re quite ready to be up and about yet. But do you think you can drink this?”
The cool rim of a cup touched his lips. Izzy leaned a bit to sip it, lifting his hands and holding the cup seemed much too complicated right now. He winced as the liquid hit his lips, the pain waking him up a bit more. His lips were chapped and broken, they tinged the water with the coppery scent of blood. His throat was so dry that drinking hurt, but at the same time he couldn’t stop until the water was gone. Something was wrong, what had happened to him?
The cup disappeared. “Good, Roach will be pleased. Next time you wake up we’ll have some more for you.”
He had too many thoughts and he was so tired. Izzy let himself fall away into a deeper sleep. Even as he did so he felt a bit sad to leave such a peaceful place behind.
***
The next time Izzy woke up he looked again at the familiar ocean and unfamiliar room.
Fear shot through his body. There was no other possible response. He froze in place, holding even his breath to be still. He didn’t know where the hell he was and in his general experience rich bastards who owned ships like this weren’t happy to see men like him. Motionless could maybe buy a moment before his captor noticed he was awake. Unwilling to chance turning his head he focused on the sounds. The ocean was all he could hear, and maybe some distant voices on deck. No one moving, no one cleaning a pistol or sharpening a knife. He took in a breath and risked a look around.
The room was empty. Good, he could prepare. Weak as he was, fuck how long had he been in this bed, he made himself move. First objective, arm himself. They had taken his boots off so he’d lost that hidden knife, but he still had his clothes, and yes he could feel the edge of one of the knives he had in the inside pocket of his vest. Bit of luck there, a weapon was ready. He did a more thorough survey of the ridiculous room, or at least as much as he could see from the bed. Potential weapons: a paperweight, some bottles. A lot of the furniture could do some damage too, but he didn’t think he had it in him to start breaking it down to weapons right now. He fumbled under the blanket to get the knife out of his pocket and into his hand. If someone came to tie him down he could fight. If someone came in with questions about Blackbeard he could fight. If someone-
The door that he was assuming led to the rest of the ship opened, and he tensed, ready for anything.
“Oh good, you’re looking more awake!” A toff stood there, all silk and softness, and smiled at him. “Excellent, I’ll let the crew know! But first, how are you feeling?”
How the hell was he supposed to respond to that while the man stood outside stabbing range?
“I’m…” he knew better than to say weak, deeply confused as to where the fuck he was right now, and so frightened it had hardened into rage, “…alright.”
The man went to a sideboard and poured a glass of water from a pitcher. He came over to Izzy and offered it. Izzy stared at it like it was poison.
“You should drink,” the man said gently. “It will help.”
Instead of taking the cup he gave the man a closer once over. He was wearing a light blue suit with lace trimmings. No visible weapons, and any hidden ones would take time too free. Weak as he was, Izzy felt he could take him down if he needed to, weapon or not. And drinking that water was all he wanted right now. He let go of the knife, although he kept it concealed against his thigh in case he needed it quickly, and reached out, taking the cup. As the water hit his tongue he realized how thirsty he was and gulped the whole thing down.
The strange man beamed as he drank. “Capital! Do you want another? Roach warned me not to let you drink too much at first, but it’s been a few days now of small sips, I think you’re ready for a bit more.”
Izzy handed the cup back. “More would be nice,” he agreed, his voice even raspier than normal. He kept his hands where the man could see them, a show of faith meant to help lull him into a false sense of security, but it seemed to go unnoticed as the stranger turned his back to pour more water. So either extremely confident in his control of the situation or an idiot. “I don’t suppose you’ll mind telling me where I am?” he asked. His real question, was he to be ransomed back to Blackbeard or turned in for a reward to the English, would give away too much.
“Don’t mind at all!” The man came back, handing him another cup of water. “You my friend are aboard the pirate ship Revenge, on its maiden voyage! And I am the Captain, Stede Bonnet.” Izzy starred as the man struck a pose, hand on his hip, chest jutting out. Ahh, an idiot rich boy playing pirate. Fantastic, he could work with this.
“I see,” Izzy said, taking a sip of water to buy a few seconds. Did this person truly not know who he was? Time to take a calculated risk. “Well I’m Iz, just Iz.” He studied the Captain's face, saw no sign of recognition at his truncated name. Almost insulting, that. But in this case he’d take it. “I’m guessing you scavenged me?”
Bonnet chuckled at that. “You were found a few days back hanging on to some floating boards while unconscious, impressive grip strength. So we hauled you in and have been nursing you back to health since.” He pulled up a chair and sat down next to the bed. “I don’t suppose you remember how you came to be floating in the middle of the Caribbean? Speculating about that has been a popular topic of conversation among the crew.”
Izzy had been wondering that himself, now that he knew there was no immediate threat he cast his mind back. There had been a raid, and then a warship, fucking English, but from there it all got hazy. Ed had been yelling to him, the crew had been hauling the last of the spoils on to the Queen Anne, he was overseeing from the merchant ship…
“My crew was raiding, an English warship tried to intervene, it ended up firing on the vessel I was on. I must have gotten knocked off. Can’t remember more than that.” He took another sip of water. Would Ed have gotten away? His last clear memory was looking at Ed already aboard the Queen Anne, him yelling at Izzy to get a move on. They were always ready to flee after a raid, and the warship would have needed to navigate around the burning wreckage of the merchant ship it had just destroyed with its terrible aim. Ed would have made it.
That meant he’d left Izzy behind.
“You were on a raid? How exciting! We, alas, haven't found a chance to raid yet, but I’m looking forward to the experience.”
“Of course you are,” Izzy said with more bite than he intended, too distracted to fully control his response. Ed had fucking left him, he’d been floating along for who knows how long, and now he was on a ship in what he suspected was the Captains quarters, in the Captains bed. And the Captain was a rich madman.
Right. None of that was anything he could deal with right now. He needed to stay alive. The best way on any ship to stay alive was to have an in with the Captain. He looked at the ridiculous man in the blue suit, Captain Stede Bonnet. He hadn’t called anyone but Ed captain in over 20 years.
Well for 20 fucking years he hadn’t been abandoned by his captain. Lot’s of firsts happening today.
Izzy took a deep breath. “Don’t suppose you can use another crew member? I’ve got years of experience and I’m good with a sword.” God it was going to hurt to be just a crew member again, but he could take it. And as soon as they did some raiding he’d have enough money to jump at the next port. Maybe go find Ed, maybe take his fucking ship as payment for this. He’d not questioned anything Ed had ordered him to do for years, done every horrible task and kept going. He’d kept Ed alive when the man couldn’t be arsed to do it himself. His repayment was being left to die.
He wished he was fucking furious about that instead of just numb.
He must be controlling his face well because Captain Bonnet was nodding. “I was hoping you’d offer to join up, I actually budgeted for more crew members, hiring proved to be rather difficult. I’ll go over your salary and compensation but not until you’ve had a meal and some new clothes.” He smiled at Izzy. “No one should sign a contract on an empty stomach. I’ll go see about a meal, stay here and rest up.”
He clasped Izzy on his shoulder before striding out of the room. Izzy sat in the bed, holding his cup of water.
Up until now his life had been divided into neat, precise sections. There was before the sea, on the sea but before meeting Edward, and then everything since then. When he thought about it, and he tried not to, he had expected to die as Blackbeard’s first mate. There had been a small comfort to that belief, that he had found his place in life and could stay there until the end.
Instead he was here, in an unfamiliar room belonging to a stranger who didn’t even know enough to be scared of him. Despite his anger and numbness something in his body screamed to go find Ed, to return to his side, to stay there. Stay in the safest home he’d known.
But Ed had let him drift away. Not a lot of safety after all then.
Izzy got up, only a bit unsteady. The water had helped, but so did having a purpose. The knife fell to the floor with a clatter. Carefully he picked it up and returned it to his vest. Then he put the empty cup back on the sideboard. Wouldn’t do to leave a mess in his new Captains cabin.
***
It took Izzy about half the morning working on the Revenge to go completely feral with rage.
He’d managed his first day well, it was mostly Captain Bonnet rustling up clothing and bedding, signing documents, agreeing to the not terrible salary, meeting a few members of the crew, and finding a spot for the hammock he’d been assigned. A strange day, not a terrible one though. But now, as he trailed Lucius around to see how the ship was run, he was losing any semblance of control.
“You do realize on a normal ship you hire people for a fucking purpose, right? People are assigned jobs, not just allowed to wander around doing fuck all.” Izzy half howled as he kicked some rope inexpertly coiled on the rear deck, because he was on the only fucking ship in the sea where smacking someone wasn’t acceptable even though some people desperately needed to be punished.
“Excuse me, Captain Bonnet did have some logic behind each person he hired.” Lucius said. He’d been assigned with getting Izzy settled in, a task which Izzy felt was beyond his piss poor capabilities. “He even had me write it all down.”
“Really.” Izzy said with great skepticism. “Then what, pray tell, is your purpose on this vessel?”
“Right,” Lucius said and flipped back through his journal, “Well to start I’m here to write stuff down and maybe step in if there’s some light work-“
“Ha!” Izzy said. “There isn’t a lot of light work on a proper ship.”
“Going to ignore that,” Lucious said and then continued. “Then there’s Buttons, first mate. Knows how to sail, how to navigate, how to do all the fiddly stuff.”
“You mean the man over there in deep conversation with a sea gull.” Izzy said flatly. He’s been introduced. He was still fucking mad that a man who seemed to take instructions from a fucking bird had a title equal to what his had been.
“We’ve got Roach, who's a cook/surgeon, hopefully not at the same time. Frenchie, who has some sailing experience…but I think Captain mostly hired him because he’s musical.”
“Yes, because all ships need musical accompaniment.” Izzy realized kicking the rope was actually improving the shoddy coils. He kicked harder.
Lucius continued on. “We’ve then got the general sailing crew. All of them have experience on a ship, with weapons, and in Black Pete’s case with Blackbeard himself.”
Izzy gave a snort at that. He couldn’t help it.
“Wee John is our weapons expert. The Swede has sailed quite a bit, after all he had to get here from Sweden. Jim does terrifying things with knives, and Oluwande is the reason we get Jim with terrifying knives.”
“Only fucking ones that should be on a ship. Except they are on this one, which makes me frankly doubt their fucking judgement.”
Lucius snapped the book closed and glared at Izzy. “Look, I understand that we aren’t the be all wonder that was your last ship, but we’re getting paid, we haven’t sunk it yet, and Captain may be untraditional but seems to give a damn.” Lucius took a step closer, as if he could actually be threatening. “For example, he was willing to pick up someone just floating around out there. I bet he told you he’d pay you for work, right?” When Izzy nodded he continued, “Can you think of any other Captain that would do that? Any other one that wouldn’t have given you all the shit work to pay him back for not letting you die?”
Blackbeard's ship didn't pull anyone out of the water, the risk of them being planted to spy on them or there because of them was too great. Some earlier ships Izzy had served on had. He had been so young then it has always been a bit of a break for him, not getting the shit jobs for as long as the new person lasted. Which was usually until the Captain needed to make an example of someone. Then it was back to the shit jobs for him, now laced with the horrible knowledge of what punishments he could suffer if the Captain was displeased.
Still though, this place was a floating death trap. “You do realize that having your rigging not properly hung can lead to the damn sails coming down during a storm, right? Or if your ropes aren’t stored correctly they tangle? And that if the ship isn’t cleaned it can rot?”
Lucius sighed. “Look, I’ve never sailed before. I pretty much didn’t mean to be sailing now, I just had a sailory shirt on while I was on the dock and the Captain offered me the position. It pays better than what I was doing. But if there’s stuff that you think needs fixing do you really think I’m the right person to be bitching too?”
“I’m not bitching!” Izzy yelled. Complaining about actual problems wasn’t the same as bitching. “And what am I supposed to do about this? Go to Captain Bonnet with a fucking list of ways I think his ship should be run?”
Lucius blinked. “Yes?” he said. “I’m not going to fix anything, and the worst Bonnet will do is say no.” Izzy didn’t know what to say to that, so Lucius continued, “It's not like he’s going to beat his crew for having an opinion.”
The list of things Izzy had been beaten for by those he’d served under was only slightly shorter than the list of what he’d beaten people for at Blackbeard's direction. He’d realized he couldn’t beat anyone here, but that there were no beatings from the Captain either hadn’t made any sense to him so he’d dismissed it. Not being beaten was not an option previously available to him.
The calculus of reward and punishment played out in his head.
Izzy gave Lucius his version of a friendly smile, and to Lucius’s credit he took a step backwards. “Do you have spare paper and a quill?” he asked, voice approaching a civil level.
***
He was called to the Captains cabin shortly after Lucius delivered his page of recommendations which he had wanted to title “How to run a fucking ship for idiot rich boys who don’t know what they are doing” but Lucius had taken away the paper and written “Suggested Improvements” on the top of while prattling on about diplomacy.
Despite everything Lucius had said and his own observations Izzy could feel his heart beating faster as he got closer to the Captains quarters. His anger, not properly cultivated, had evaporated. What was left was the chilling realization that he had once again antagonized someone he couldn’t afford to piss off. Didn’t matter what that boy had said, Captains were in charge. He wasn’t. He didn’t have standing to tell Bonnet how to run the ship. He should be meek and quiet and let the whole thing fucking sink because no one scrapped the barnacles off and die with the rest of the crew. Oh there was the anger, good. It would keep him alert. Focusing on that he knocked.
He missed Ed like a stab to the heart.
Captain Bonnet was sitting at his table, with what looked like a full tea service. There were even little sandwiches.
“Ah Iz!” Bonnet smiled, bright eyed. “Come sit! Care for a cup of tea while we discuss your list?”
It had to be a trap. “No thank you sir. I can stand,” and he was, he’s already stood up straight like they taught him in the navy. Feet hip width apart, hands clasped at his back, eyes slightly downcast. Proper servant pose. Once they were at port he’d murder the bastard for forcing him to do this again. “Thank you for the offer though.”
He only stood for Ed like that when there were witnesses he wanted to intimidate with Blackbeard's power, that Ed was so treacherous a man like Izzy lowered his head. It was very effective, especially if they were still bleeding.
“As you like.” Did Bonnet sound disappointed? Christ, did the man want someone to have a tea party with him?
“Well,” if he was disappointed he rallied fast. “I took a look at your letter here, and I have to say it’s very impressive! You certainly put your finger on some things that could cause problems for us.”
“Thank you sir.” Izzy said, still not looking up.
“The thing is, and you’ve probably noticed by now, I don’t know much about how to run a ship.”
“Would never have guessed.” Izzy said before he could stop himself. Fuck fuck fuck. He really was shit at subservient bootlicking crap.
To his surprise Bonnet laughed. “Yes, it’s a bit obvious isn’t it. Turns out a lifetime of dreaming about being on the sea wasn’t sufficient preparation for running a ship. Someone like yourself would frankly be better suited.”
“Don’t know about that sir,” Izzy said. He could do this, he just had to say something fawning. “Your crew seems to want you to succeed. That’s important for running a ship. I’ve never been practically well liked.”
“Would have never guessed,” Bonnet said dryly. Izzy looked up at him in surprise, and saw the man was still smiling. “Despite my inexperience I am keen to learn. Do you think you could help me go over this list and figure out how to assign more tasks to the crew?”
“Certainly sir.” Izzy felt a faint hope, his anger receding. If Captain Bonnet was really going to listen to him maybe this fucking joke of a ship could stay afloat long enough to get him back to a port.
“One thing Iz, it would be easier to talk to you if you could sit down.” Captain Bonnet gestured to the seat.
Izzy only got one step towards the table before his entire body froze.
“Iz?”
His Captain had asked him to sit. He needed to sit. He was so close. If Ed had asked him to sit his ass would already be in the chair. But this man wasn’t Ed. He was one of the rich fuckers that Izzy didn’t even need to fight most of the time because they just screamed and surrendered. He didn’t want to sit in the fucking chair. He didn’t want to act like it was normal that he was away from his ship and his real Captain and it was all wrong, wrong, wrong, and he knew it. All the misery he’d been holding at bay by focusing on his anger crashed on him like a wave. Fuck, why couldn’t the man just read the damn list and let him leave?
“Iz, oh dear, hang on.” Bonnet stood up. “Is everything alright? Can I do anything to help?”
Shit he needed to say something. He did shit he didn’t want to do all the fucking time, how? Ed was fucking great at getting him to do pretty much anything, any terrible thing, what would Ed do right now if he saw Izzy hesitating?
“Order me.” Izzy said, eyes focused on the chair. Better to force an action. He could deal with whatever the fuck emotions he was having later. An order was a fantastic work around, he knew that well. “In the navy, sitting at the officers table was a whipping offense.” Technically true, although Izzy’s time in the navy had been short and not involved him doing something so fucking stupid as trying to sit with people who’d whip him for it.
But orders were good, orders let him move even when he didn’t want to.
Bonnet stilled, then said, quietly, “Barbarians, the whole lot of them.” Then he spoke up louder, “Iz, I order you to sit at the table.”
It was like being freed from a net. Izzy stumbled into movement and collapsed in the chair. Captain Bonnet sat back down as well, poured a cup of tea, and arranged a plate of sandwiches which he placed in front of Izzy. “I gather you have a past. We all do. I won’t ask, but if you ever want to talk about it my door is always open.” He hesitated a moment, then added, “It doesn’t do you any good to just bottle it all up.”
Izzy took a deep breath, then let it out. He couldn’t deal with anything Captain Bonnet had just said, best to move forward. He’d been ordered to sit, he sat, things were fine now. “It’s past now, sorry Captain. Can we go over the list?”
After all that it was a relief to only talk about the ship.