Archive of Our Own

Stede was ecstatic that he and Ed were together at last after fighting their way back to each other for so long. Being boyfriends was everything he’d dreamed it would be, but …

… well …

… he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t just a skosh daunted by Ed’s plan to turn their tumbledown shack into an inn. “That sort of thing is a mystery to me, darling. The most work I’ve ever done with my hands was writing horrendous poetry when I was still an aristocrat.”

“I’m sure your poetry couldn’t have been that bad, love,” Ed said loyally.

“I rhymed ‘buccaneer’ with ‘mug of beer’.”

“Oh.” Ed involuntarily made a “yeesh” face. “Okay, so maybe you wouldn’t have given Billy Shakespeare a run for his money, but the renovations on the shack will be different. You’ll be fine.”

“How can you know that?”.

Ed spread out his hands in a who-do-you-think-you’re-talking-to gesture. “Because you’ll have me to show you the ropes, that’s how.”

“Are you an expert?”. Stede wouldn’t be at all surprised if the answer was yes, because there was no skill Ed couldn’t pick up once he’d set his mind to it. Fishing, for example. He’d become so good at that, the fish practically jumped into his net.

“Maybe not an expert as such, but I know plenty. When the Queen Anne’s Revenge sprung a leak in the middle of the ocean, someone had to see to it, and most times, that someone was me. I’ll teach you everything I know, and you’ll soon be fixing broken stuff like you’ve been doing it all your life.”

“Thank you.” Stede was still nervous, but whatever lay in store for him would be preferable to lounging around being useless, leaving all the work to Ed. In other words, behaving exactly like the “weak-hearted, soft-handed, lily-livered little rich boy” his father had so often accused him of being.

Besides, the renovations were definitely going to be a two-person job. Everywhere he looked, he saw something that needed repairs. The shack’s roof was missing half its shingles, the windowpanes were all cracked, the front steps had to be replaced, and that was just for starters. There was much more to be done on the outside, and he knew from having peeked through one of the cracked windows that the inside was far worse. “Where do you suggest we begin?”.

Ed looked up at the sky, considering. “We’ll concentrate on the exterior first. The weather’s going to be nice for a while, so we should take advantage of it.”

Stede didn’t ask Ed how he knew that. His ability to predict the weather was uncanny.

“In the meantime,” Ed went on, “until the shack is liveable, we’ll camp out in the front yard.”

That sounded like a wonderful idea to Stede. He adored their front yard, which had a spectacular view of the ocean and a massive, centuries-old oak tree he’d named “Irving”.

(“Why Irving?’”, Ed had asked.

“Because he looks like an Irving.”

“Can’t argue with that logic.”)

“Camping?”, Stede said, thrilled. “With ghost stories and bonfires and marshmallows on sticks? What fun!”.

Ed grinned at him. “Let’s see if you still think it’s fun after sleeping on the cold hard ground.”

As it turned out, he did. In fact, he thought that everything to do with the renovations was fun. Ed had been right when he’d predicted Stede would be a natural at fixing things, and the days of strenuous physical labour tapped into a primal part of him he’d never realized he possessed.

As for the nights … phew. Before he’d met Ed, his sexual experiences had been confined to his marriage bed, and they’d been exceedingly mediocre. He’d hadn’t known what a difference it would make to be with someone whose mere existence drove him wild with lust.

I know now, though, and last night was the best yet. Stede stretched his arms over his head in their makeshift campsite , keeping his eyes closed to block out the early morning sun. The two of us under an endless diamond-studded sky, Ed driving into me, bringing me closer and closer to the edge until I couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Well hellooo there,” an amused voice rumbled. “Either that’s the most extreme case of morning wood I’ve ever seen, or you had a really interesting dream.”

Stede giggled. “I suppose you could say it’s a bit of both. I was thinking about last night.”

“Ah yes, last night.” Ed stretched as well, looking like a cat who’d just polished off a bowlful of cream. “Some of my finest work, if I do say so myself.”

“I am a huge fan of making love under the stars! I’m glad that the weather has been so perfect.”

“Mm,” Ed said mischievously, “and I’m glad that we don’t have any neighbours, otherwise they might’ve thought all that screaming meant that I was murdering you.”

Stede went as scarlet as the new shingles they’d bought for the roof. “Oh, dear. Was I really that loud?”.

Ed tipped him a salacious wink. “You were, and it was hot as fuck.”

“Oh, dear. I’ll have to tone it down once the inn is up and running.”

“My arse you will. I love the noises you make.”

Stede loved making those noises, and he didn’t want to rein himself in, but … “I can’t very well shriek ‘Ed, fuck me harder’ with guests within earshot, can I? They’ll be scandalized and leave us bad reviews!”.

“No, they won’t. We’ll soundproof our bedroom.”

“You know how to do that, too?”.

“Not yet, but I’ll learn.”

That settled the matter.

After several weeks, they finished all the work on the shack’s exterior. The next item on the agenda was tackling a large plot of land in the back yard that appeared to have been used for crops at one time. Stede and Ed spent two days clearing out all the weeds and turning the soil, then they sowed seeds for three gardens; one for vegetables, one for fruit, and one for flowers.

Ed, being a nature hater, didn’t enjoy this job one bit. Stede tried to jolly him out of his grumpy mood. “Just think, we’ll be able to decorate our inn with our own flowers and serve our guests food that we grew ourselves!”.

“Hmph.”

The jollying wasn’t working. A more cunning approach was called for. Ed’s famous for his sweet tooth, so … “The fruit will make delicious jam.”

“Hmph. I guess I like jam.”

He was still a little grumpy, so Stede played his ace in the hole by appealing to Ed’s fondness for acquiring a new skill. “Fruit can be used to make wine, too! I’ve never done it, but it can’t be that tricky. Just chuck the fruit into a bucket, stomp on it with bare feet, and voila! Wine!”.

Ed gave him a side-eye. “I’m fairly certain it’s more complicated than that, love.”

“You don’t know that. You’ve never done it, either.”

“No, I haven’t, but that’s about to change.” Ed puled his notebook out of his pocket and added “LEARN HOW TO MAKE WINE” to his to-do list while Stede hid a triumphant smirk.

After that, it was time to focus on the inside of the shack. The first priority was ridding the place of critters. Stede shooed Ed outside so that he could take care of that task solo, since he knew his boyfriend would be running for the hills if he caught so much as a glimpse of a spider.

Two hours later, he opened the back door and called “All done!”.

Ed paused in the middle of chopping wood. “Yeah?”. He laid down the axe and wiped sweat off his forehead. “They’re gone?”.

“Gone.”

“Every last disgusting bug and rodent?”.

“Every one.”

“And you’re okay? You didn’t get bitten?”.

“I’m completely unscathed.”

“Were there any snakes? You did check for snakes, didn’t you? You know how much I hate those bastards.”

“I checked, and there weren’t any.”

“Thank fuck, and thank you for killing them all, love. I don’t know what I’d do without – hang on a sec.“ Ed peered at Stede suspiciously. “Why do you look so shifty? What am I missing?”.

“Nothing!”. Except Stede was incapable of meeting Ed’s eyes.

“Oh, fuck,” Ed groaned. “You didn’t kill them.”

“They’re gone! Let’s just leave it at that!”.

“Steeeede …”.

“I couldn’t kill them, Ed! It’s just not me!”.

“What did you do with them?”.

“Gathered them up, put them outside, and gave them a stern talking-to. ‘Don’t come back,’ I said. ‘You freak out my boyfriend, so promise me you’ll find somewhere else to live,’ and I’m positive that they understood me.”

“I’m in love with a madman,” Ed muttered.

“What was that?”.

“I said ‘Of course they did.’”

Following the Great Vermin Exodus of 1718 (as Stede came to call it), the two of them set to work on transforming the shack’s interior. They patched all the holes in the walls, slapped on two coats of fresh paint, replaced the rotten floorboards, and soundproofed every bedroom, not just theirs. Ed’s reasoning was “Our guests might want to get nasty, just like us, and who are we to deny them?”.

Then came time to furnish the place. They bought tables, chests of drawers, and bedframes from a local craftsman whose products were expensive but impeccably made. They equipped the kitchen with the latest modern conveniences (“A metal wood burning stove to cook on instead of an open hearth? An icebox to keep food fresh and cool? What a time to be alive! Whatever will they think of next?”). They found an abundance of treasures in the town market, like velvet tasselled pillows, paintings that brightened every room with vivid splashes of colour, and jewel-toned cashmere blankets.

Stede loved all the little touches of luxury, but the blankets were his favourite. They reminded him of his first interaction with Ed in his quarters on the Revenge, when Ed had picked up a cashmere blanket and asked if it was made of silk. Sometimes, when Stede was feeling particularly whimsical, he was tempted to attribute these new blankets with mystical powers, as though they symbolized the moment when he and Ed started falling in love. Then he’d give his head a shake. Don’t be absurd. They’re just blankets, albeit very nice ones.

The final step in the shack-to-inn metamorphosis was food. Stede and Ed had been subsisting on nothing but cold sandwiches for weeks, but now that they had a proper kitchen, it was time to step up their game. “A beautiful oceanfront setting and deluxe accommodations are one thing, but if the meals we serve are subpar, we’ll be doomed before we start,” Stede said. With that in mind, he bought several cookbooks and taught himself how to cook and bake. His initial efforts were less than successful (his first casserole could best be described as “pointy”, although Ed ate it without complaint and even went back for seconds), but he improved by leaps and bounds until his food as good as anything Roach had ever produced on the Revenge.

At last, the majority of the work had been done. All that was left was day-to-day maintenance. They celebrated by buying a hammock to hang from Irving’s sturdiest branch, and that was where they spent their evenings from then on. They lay in it together, swaying gently in each other’s arms as they looked out to sea, talking about the day’s events and preparing for tomorrow.

It was on such an evening in early July that Stede decided to mention a subject that had been on his mind. “Darling?”.

“Hmm?”. Ed sounded like he was already halfway towards falling asleep.

“I was wondering about opening up our inn for business a little sooner than we’d originally planned.”

Ed sat up, suddenly more awake. “We’d said that we wouldn’t accept guests until September at the earliest, love.”

“Well, yes, but that was when we’d thought the renovations would take longer. We’re now done, and if I may toot our horns –”.

Ed wiggled his eyebrows. “Please do. You’re so damn talented at tooting my horn.”

“Be serious!”.

“I am! I take horn-tooting very seriously.”

Stede punched him lightly in the arm. “I’ll rephrase. If I may congratulate us, we’ve done an amazing job on the inn, and I want to show it off. Don’t you?”.

“I’m just not sure I’m mentally prepared to have strangers in our home yet. I know that’s silly, because that’s what being an innkeeper is, but I can’t help it. I wish there was a way to ease into it, gradually, with non-strangers.”

“There is, though!” Stede snapped his fingers, having had a brainwave. “A soft opening!”.

That got him more licentiously wiggling eyebrows. “Now you’re talking. I fucking love how soft your opening is.” Ed shifted position so that he could fondle Stede’s arse.

Stede squirmed. “Pervert!”.

“Hey, you’re the one who won’t stop talking dirty!”.

“For your information – eek, that tickles! – a soft opening is a trial run of sorts. Opening one’s business to a limited number of people, preferably friends and family. We could invite our old crew!”.

“Oh, I see what you’re getting at.” Ed’s roving hands stilled. “The crew can give us feedback about what works and what doesn’t, and because they’re our friends, they’ll be honest without being dicks about it.” He nodded decisively. “I like that idea. Let’s send word to the Revenge tomorrow. Now, where were we?”.

Stede let out a squeal as Ed resumed his lecherous groping. “Do you want to – ohhh – retreat to our bedroom?”.

“Hell, no. I was just saying to myself the other day ‘You know, we haven’t put the hammock to the ultimate test yet’, and if we’re going to have guests soon, getting in the way of our privacy, we won’t have too many more opportunities.” Ed leaned down for a kiss.

“Irving will be shocked,” Stede murmured breathlessly against Ed’s lips.

“Bloke his age, I’m sure he’s seen it all and then some. Now get those clothes off, boyfriend mine.”

In hindsight, Stede and Ed really should have known better than to be smug about how well the inn’s renovations had gone. “Pride goeth before a fall” and all that. Less than a week before the crew were due to arrive for the soft opening, disaster struck.

It began innocuously, as disasters often do.

Stede was seated at their kitchen table shortly after breakfast, studiously making notes, when he heard the pitter patter of rain droplets hitting the ground. Good, he thought absently. Our gardens could use it. The weather’s been so dry lately. He made a few more notes, then he called to Ed, who was gazing out the kitchen window. “I’ve finished creating the menu for the first dinner we’ll serve the crew. Want to hear?”.

“Sure.”

Did Ed sound distracted?

Stede decided he’d imagined it, and he began to read from his notepad. “Seafood chowder made from whatever your Catch of the Day turns out to be. Bread served with fresh butter from the dairy. A vegetable medley, courtesy of our garden. Chocolate cake, accompanied by whipped cream, also from the dairy. A selection of fine cheeses, also from the dairy – huh. Do you think we should buy a cow so that we can make all those dairy products ourselves and cut out the middleman?”.

“Sure.”

Stede lifted his head, concerned. Ed hadn’t jumped all over the chance to learn yet another new skill, nor had he drooled at the word “chocolate”, which meant Stede hadn’t imagined it – he was distracted. “Is something the matter, darling?”.

Ed sighed heavily. “Yeah. I figured it was coming when I went for a piss in the middle of the night and felt the wind change. I hoped I was mistaken, but I wasn’t. It’s started, and it’s only going to get worse.”

It had been ages since Stede had heard Ed sound so grim. “What’s started?”.

“That.” Ed pointed outside.

Stede joined him by the window, not sure what to expect, but there was nothing disturbing that he could see. The pitter patter had turned into honest-to-God rain, and a strong wind had Irving’s branches lurching every which way, but that was all. “What am I looking at?”.

“There’s going to be a storm.”

“A storm? So what? Storms are exciting!”. Stede bumped his hip teasingly against Ed’s. “They really get my blood moving, if you know what I mean.”

Ed was evidently not in the mood for Playful Stede. “With all due respect, love, when was the last time you experienced a major storm?”.

Stede thought back. “I suppose it would be when I was still living at the Bonnet Estate with Mary and the kids.”

“Yeah. Exactly. You were living in an enormous brick mansion that was built to handle almost anything, and if something catastrophic happened, you had a fleet of servants poised to deal with it for you. Right?”.

“Right,” Stede admitted reluctantly, feeling uncomfortable. “You make me sound very shallow and spoiled.”

Ed’s expression softened, and he put his arms around Stede. “That wasn’t my intention at all, and I’m sorry. I only wanted to point out that our inn is much newer than that mansion, not to mention built from wood instead of brick, which means that the chances of something catastrophic happening are a lot higher. And if it does, there’s no-one to deal with it but you and me.”

“But – nothing will happen, will it? Just a bit of rain and maybe some thunder and lightning?”.

“Stede –”. Ed looked like he would give anything to be able to sugarcoat what he was about to say.

Stede’s heart sank. “You’ve forgotten more about weather systems than most people will ever know,” he said quietly. “No bullshit, Ed. How bad is this going to get?”.

Ed held him tightly. “Very.”

Outside, the rain turned into a downpour, the sky darkened until day became night, and the wind increased to a howling gale.

-----

When Stede was to look back on that day, he’d say that the most diabolical part was that the storm kept pausing, like it was trying to make up its mind whether or not to continue, then it would start up again. It did this too many times to count, and each time its strength seemed to double. Forked lightning lit up the sky with stark brilliance, booms of thunder shook their little home to its very foundations, then a new noise began. It sounded like someone was bombarding the inn with missiles.

“What on earth is that?”, Stede yelped in fright.

Ed was back at the window. “Hail.”

“Hail?”. Those storms at the Bonnet Estate had occasionally delivered hail, but it had consisted of small icy pellets that made a light tick tick tick sound when they struck something. Nothing like this. Nothing so violent. Stede looked out the window as well and gasped. The chunks falling from the sky were the size of his fist and looked capable of killing anyone unlucky enough to be standing in their way. Make them stop, he begged silently.

To his surprise, the rapid-fire attack ceased as abruptly as it had begun. He drew a relieved breath and was about to make a joke (“I’m magic! I can control the weather!”) when he heard another new sound, unlike any he’d heard before. It was as if a giant was overhead, tearing books apart with his bare hands. “Now what?”.

“Fuuuuck, I was afraid of that.” A flash of lightning illuminated Ed’s anxious face. “The wind is ripping the shingles off the roof.”

“Oh shit!”. They’d worked so hard on nailing every single one of those shingles perfectly in place. On the day they’d finished, Stede had stood back and admired the results with a joyous smile. I helped make that happen. If only Father could see the “weak-hearted, soft-handed, lily-livered little rich boy” now.

The sound grew and grew, and just when Stede thought the assault on their ears couldn’t possibly get any louder, he was deafened by a guttural roar.

“Fuck fuck FUCK!”. Ed took off at a run, with Stede in hot pursuit. The roar was coming from one of the guest bedrooms, and when they reached the doorway, they stopped dead in their tracks. A huge section of roof that had covered that part of the inn was gone, and water was pouring in, drenching the bed and everything that surrounded it.

“Oh my God,” Stede moaned. “What do we do?”.

Born leader that he was, Ed didn’t hesitate. “You stay here and deal with this mess. I’m going up on the roof to do a temporary patch job with pieces of scrap wood left over from our floor repairs. It’ll take me a while, because that’s one motherfucking gargantuan hole.”

“What?”, Stede said, aghast. “You’re not doing that! It’s too dangerous! The wind is powerful enough to toss you around like a rag doll, and what if you get struck by lightning?”.

“I don’t have a choice. If I do nothing, we’ll have a flood on our hands, and the inn will be destroyed.”

“But –”.

“This is our home, love. We’ve worked too hard to give it up without a fight, and I can do this, you know I can. I’m nimble as a fucking cat.”

Stede thought of all the times he’d seen Ed climb the Revenge’s rigging, lithe and fearless, seemingly defying gravity. “You are, but unlike a cat, you don’t have nine lives!”.

“Don’t I?”. Ed’s mouth quirked. “I’ve survived shit that should have killed me, including a cannonball to the head. I went to the fucking Gravy Basket and came out the other side. I’m pretty sure that I’ve still got at least a couple of lives left in me, and I refuse to believe that the universe will let me die now, when I’ve finally found happiness with my boyfriend.” Ed gave him a kiss. “I’ll be okay. Trust me.”

Arguing further was pointless. “All right,” Stede said, resigned. “Just please, please be careful.”

“I will. I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Another kiss, then Ed was on the run once more, leaving Stede in what had been a charming bedroom only a few hours ago. The wreckage was devastating, and for a moment – just a brief moment – he wanted to react the way he used to do when his father was on the rampage. Burrow beneath a pile of blankets (oh God, their jewel-toned cashmere stash would be so soft and warm and cozy, just the thing for a situation like this) and stay there until the threat went away.

“Snap out of it,” he chastised himself. “You’re not a kid anymore, you’re an adult with adult responsibilities. Those blankets will still be there for you later. Right now you need to figure out how to prevent this mess from getting worse, and you need to do it fast.”

Unlike Ed, Stede wasn’t history’s most brilliant tactician, but he still had a good head on his shoulders. Within seconds, he had a plan.

“First, move all the furniture so that it’s no longer sitting in the direct path of that waterfall.” The furniture weighed a ton, but he’d become thickly muscled over the last few months and now possessed strength he had once thought impossible. He could do it. He would do it.

And he did, after a lot of huffing and puffing.

“Second, gather up every vessel we own.” He dashed around the inn, grabbing every pot, pan, bowl and bucket he could find, and brought them all back to the bedroom.

“Third, get a system going to catch the water and get rid of it.”

He placed the containers under the hole in the ceiling, and as each one filled to the brim, he emptied it out the window and repositioned it.

Again.

And again.

And again.

It became an automatic process, the steps of which were a mindless little ditty that played over and over in his head. Fill the container. Dump the container. Put it back. Simple enough, but it was hard work. The speed at which the water was descending forced him to move more quickly than he’d ever moved before, and the containers were bloody heavy. Before long, his legs and shoulders and back were screaming in protest.

“Too fucking bad. Ed’s out there risking his life, and you’re whingeing about a little soreness? Suck it up.”

Right on cue, Ed called from above, raising his voice to be heard over the storm’s rage. “Hello down there! How’s it going?”.

“Hello, darling!”. Stede wanted nothing more than to look up and see his boyfriend’s beautiful face, but he had to keep his eye on the pots and pans and bowls and buckets to ensure they didn’t overflow. “I’m managing. I’ve got the furniture out of the way, and I’ve set up a water dispersal system.” He seized a full bucket, ran to the window (careful not to stagger, because he wanted to make it look effortless), threw its contents out the window, and replaced it. “See?”.

“Brilliant, love. Lucky for me you’re as smart as you are gorgeous.”

Stede faked a smile, knowing that Ed was trying to alleviate his worry by being his usual flirtatious self. “Thanks. How’s it going with you? Is it awful?”.

“I’d be lying if I said it was a picnic, but I went through worse during my pirating days.” Ed struck a nail with his hammer, making a sharp tap. “There was this one time when I was perched on top of a crow’s nest in the middle of a hurricane, 100-foot waves doing their best to capsize my ship, all while I had a galloping case of the trots because the cook had served us bad sausages for dinner. That was awful.” More taps. “But you don’t want me to tell you about that.”

“Who says? Tell away.”

“Seriously? It’s not what one would call a pretty tale.”

“I don’t care,” Stede said truthfully. “I just want you to keep talking to me while you’re up there. I’ll know that you’re safe that way.”

He could hear the smile in Ed’s voice. “You got it, but I’ll leave the shitting-my-pants story for another day, if it’s all the same with you. Instead, I’ll start with my favourite topic.”

Stede’s smile was more genuine this time, knowing where this was going. The day we met.

“…I looked down at that pale half-dead man lying on the deck of a Spanish ship, and I had a hunch he was going to be important to me …”.

Stede listened attentively. Fill the container. Dump the container. Put it back.

“… by the time that day was done, the wheels had been set in motion. I didn’t know it yet, but I was destined to fall in love with you. Hey, did I ever tell you about the day when Izzy and I first met?”.

“Did you fall in love with him, too?”, Stede asked with a jocularity he didn’t feel. Fill the container. Dump the container. Put it back.

Ed chuckled. “I’m not sure the word exists that can define what Iz and I were to each other, but damn, I miss that cantankerous little fucker.”

“Same here.” Life was funny sometimes. Stede had hated Izzy at one point and considered him one of his worst enemies, then they became friends.

“Anyway, he and I were both working for Benjamin Hornigold …”.

The stories Ed told were fascinating and a welcome diversion from Stede’s aching muscles. Fill the container. Dump the container. Put it back.

After his last Izzy story, Ed moved on to rhapsodizing about Stede’s culinary prowess. “That cherry pie you made the other week, talk about scrumptious. If I was told that I could only have one food to eat for the rest of my life, that’s what I’d pick, no question about it …”.

Ed grew hoarse, but he kept talking, and Stede kept listening, and the work continued.

Fill the container. Dump the container. Put it back.

Eventually, thanks to Ed’s efforts, the torrent of rainwater slowed to a stream, then to a trickle. Stede no longer had to empty the containers as frequently, which meant that he could finally allow himself the luxury of looking up at Ed. “Oh, you poor thing! You’re soaked to the bone!”.

Which was a very stupid thing to say, he realized too late. Ed had been exposed to the wild weather for – how long? It felt like hours. Of course he was soaked to the bone.

Fortunately, Ed was used to Stede’s impulsive exclamations and didn’t respond the way Lucius would have done, with an eye-roll and a “Thank you, Captain Obvious.” He grinned and shook dripping hair out of his face. “Tell me about it. I feel like a drowned rat, but I’m still present and accounted for. Told you, didn’t I? Nine fucking lives.”

Stede gave an eye-roll of his own. Ed’s cockiness was one of the most attractive things about him, and also the most infuriating. “You’re not done with the roof repairs yet, so maybe don’t tempt fate, hmm?”.

Ed scoffed. “I’m as good as done! There’s just one more bit to go, then I’ll climb down and tour the property to see what other damage occurred. I’ll need your help with that, so come join me when you can.”

“We’re going to do that now?”, Stede said with alarm, envisioning the two of them hunched over and battling through gale-force winds and driving rain. “Shouldn’t we wait for the storm to be less, well, stormy?”.

“Actually, it’s a lot less stormy already. You didn’t notice?”.

Stede hadn’t. He’d been so busy concentrating on emptying containers out the window, he hadn’t paid any attention to what was happening beyond that window. He looked outside and saw that the rain was slackening, the wind was dying down, and the sky was a dull shade of pewter instead of charcoal.

He didn’t trust it, remembering too well how many times the storm had paused and then started up again with greater intensity, but if Ed wanted to do damage assessment now, that was what they’d do. “I’ll finish up in here, then I’ll meet you outside.”

“Sounds good.” Ed began to hammer the last piece of scrap wood in place. “See you soon.”

Stede emptied out the few containers that still held rainwater and stretched, groaning. “My kingdom to be able to lie down for eight hours or more!”.

He didn’t wish that he was back in his old life at Bonnet Estate, however. No matter how difficult his current life got, he would never wish for that. He might have been more physically comfortable during those days, but he’d been slowly suffocating. This was where he could breathe freely, in the place he belonged with the man he loved.

He rolled his aching shoulders and began stripping the bed of its sopping wet sheets so that the mattress could air-dry. Once that was done, he glared at the puddles that were everywhere. “You think I’m just going to leave you there, warping our floorboards and creating new rot, don’t you? Think again! I’m off to fetch some towels. They’re thick and absorbent, the best that money can buy, and they’ll make short work of you.”

He stomped down the hallways with renewed vigor to their airing cupboard, which was where he and Ed kept all their bed linens, towels, and blankets. He flung open the door with a flourish, and –

“Oh,” he whispered brokenly. “Oh, no.”

-----

“Hi, love –”. Ed broke off, looked at Stede closely, and frowned. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”.

“It’s nothing.” Which was sort of true. It was nothing in the grand scheme of things, and he was an idiot to be so upset.

“Your face doesn’t think it’s nothing.”

“I’ll tell you later.”

“I’d rather you told me now.”

“Later,” Stede said firmly. “What have you found so far?”.

Ed looked very much like he wanted to argue, but he backed off. “I’ve walked around the inn. The hail left a few dents in the walls, but that’s the only exterior damage to the building other than the roof. Next stop: the gardens.”

Stede’s stomach did an uneasy flip. If the hail had dented the inn’s walls, what chance would vulnerable unprotected plants have?

Very little chance, sadly. The fruit and vegetable plants, which had been almost ready for harvest, were flattened to the ground. Paradoxically, the flowers were untouched.

“Shit,” Ed said, and Stede echoed him. So much for that “vegetable medley, courtesy of our garden” they’d planned to serve the crew.

They continued their assessment under the steady drizzle, with Ed noting a few minor issues that would need to be addressed. Their last stop was the front yard. When they reached it, they gaped in dismay.

Irving had been struck by lightning. He remained standing, but his sturdiest branch – the one that had withstood centuries of every type of weather imaginable, the one that had seemed invincible, the one that had supported their hammock for all those lazy summer nights – had been sheared off. It lay at the base of Irving’s trunk, its long life at an end.

“No sign of the hammock. The wind must’ve blown it away,” Ed said glumly. “Goddamn it. That really –”.

A sob burst out of Stede’s chest. He collapsed onto the wet grass and began to cry.

“Sweetheart!”. Ed fell to his knees beside Stede and hugged him. “What is it?”.

“Your knee, Ed, you’ll aggravate your old injury –”.

“Fuck my knee. It’s going to give me hell later anyway after all that time on the roof, what’s a few more twinges?”. Ed rocked him gently, side to side. “Talk to me. What’s going on?”.

Stede gestured helplessly. “It’s everything. It’s the hammock. It’s Irving. It’s the gardens. But oh, Ed, most of all, it’s our cashmere blankets.”

“Our blankets? What about them?”.

“I went to the airing cupboard to fetch towels to wipe up puddles, and I found that there’d been a leak under the floorboards,” Stede wept. “Muddy water an inch deep had seeped into the box in which we’d stored our blankets. They’re caked in filth, their colours ran, they’re ruined, Ed. There’ll be no saving them.”

“Aw, baby.” Ed kept rocking him. “I’m sorry.”

Fresh tears coursed down Stede’s cheeks, mingling with the rain. “I know I’m being ridiculous.”

“You’re not.”

“I am. They were just things.”

“No, they weren’t. They were beautiful, they were ours, and most of all, they were a reminder of the blanket on the Revenge that helped begin our story. They represented when you and I started falling in love.”

Stede stared, dumbstruck. “I always thought of them that way! I had no idea that you did, too!”.

“Of course I did. When I picked up that blanket and asked if it was silk, any other aristo would’ve barked at me to stop pawing his possessions and fuck off, but not you. You didn’t see a violent brute when you looked at me, you saw the man, and you treated that man like a friend. How could I help but fall in love with you?”. Ed pressed his lips to Stede’s forehead. “My sweet, wonderful, brave boyfriend.”

“Brave?”. Stede pulled a wry face while blowing his nose. “Hardly. A brave person wouldn’t cry over blankets. That’s for namby-pambies.”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Ed said fiercely. He tilted Stede’s chin up with a knuckle so that he could look into his eyes. “That’s your father talking, and he never knew you, because he never bothered to try. I know you, and you’re one of the bravest people I’ve ever met. Any time you feel the urge to cry, my love, go ahead and cry.”

“Okay.” Stede took a shaky breath, then another. “I don’t feel like it anymore, at least, not right now. I’m feeling much less sad. Thank you, darling.”

“You’re welcome.” Ed kissed Stede warmly. “And here’s some good news that might help you feel better still. The storm is over.”

“It is?”, Stede asked doubtfully. The sky was still a mass of roiling pewter clouds, and the drizzle was still falling steadily. “Are you sure it won’t make yet another comeback?”.

“Absolutely sure, and I’ll prove it to you.” Ed got to his feet, held Stede’s hands to help him stand as well, and pointed upwards. “See that speck of blue sky?”.

“Yes?”.

“Did you ever hear the folklore about blue sky and a sailor’s trousers?”.

“No, I haven’t.” Stede laughed a little. “It sounds weird enough that I think I’d remember.”

“It’s something we seafarers learn from an early age. It goes ‘If there’s enough blue sky to make a sailor a pair of trousers, even on a cloudy or rainy day, the worst of the storm is over and the weather will soon clear up’. It sounds like an old wives tale, I know, but I’ve never seen it fail.”

Stede wanted to believe it, but … “That speck is miniscule, Ed. There’s no sailor alive who’d fit into a pair of trousers that small.”

“Mm. True. No sailor alive would fit into them, but you and I once knew a teeny bloke who would’ve had no problem wearing them. Cantankerous little fucker.”

“Oh.” A smile tugged at Stede’s mouth. “You’re right, but I must admit that I’m having trouble picturing it. Izzy’s wardrobe was, shall we say, somewhat monochromatic.”

“Black, black and more black,” Ed agreed. “But I think he would’ve rocked a pair of sky-blue trousers if he’d been given half a chance. Remember him at Calypso’s birthday party?”.

“How could I forget?”. Stede’s face became dreamy, remembering that night. “He wore makeup and looked absolutely magnificent, then he sang, and my God, his voice. I’d never heard La Vie en Rose sung so beautifully. Half the crew was dancing, and the other half looked like they were going to swoon.”

“Speaking of dancing …”. Ed gave Stede an impish look. “I could’ve sworn that someone was about to ask me to dance that night before Ned Low interrupted us.”

“Guilty. Luckily, we have all the time in the world to make up for that missed opportunity.” Stede made a courtly bow. “Will you join me for a dance, fair one?”.

Ed fluttered his eyelashes. “I would be honoured, good sir.”

They moved together in a graceful waltz as the rain came down.

“The first time Iz sang La Vie en Rose was in English,” Ed remarked, “but later, while you and I were in your quarters, and we were …”. He trailed off, looking uncharacteristically shy. “You know.”

“Yes,” Stede said huskily.

Frenzied kissing against the wall. Clothes strewn across the floor. Ed waiting for me on my bed as I closed the curtains and shut ourselves away from the world, for just a little while.

“I heard him sing it again,” Ed said. “In French, I think.”

“I heard him, too. Did you know that the French lyrics are quite different from the English?”.

“No shit? I didn’t know that. French is one of those languages I’m going to learn someday, but right now, the best I can manage is ‘Where is the outhouse?’ and ‘Another round of drinks, please’ . Can you sing them for me?”.

“I don’t remember them all, but I do remember this part. C'est lui pour moi, moi pour lui, dans la vie,” Stede sang. “Il me l'a dit, l'a juré pour la vie.”

“That sounds lovely. What does it mean?”.

“It’s him for me, me for him, in life. He told me so, swore it for life.”

“Wow. I was right. It’s lovely.” Ed brought his mouth close to Stede’s. “And very, very appropriate.”

How long they stood there, tenderly kissing, neither of them would be able to say. All they knew is that when they finally broke the kiss, the rain had stopped. Above them, the clouds were dispersing, and the tiny scrap of blue was growing, getting visibly bigger by the second. It would soon take over the entire sky.

One Week Later

“Having stayed here for two days and one night so far, Stede and Ed, my review is ready.” Lucius paused for effect before giving his customary cheeky smirk. “Everything is incredible. 10/10, no notes.”

Stede was delighted to receive such an effusive compliment from Lucius, of all people. “No notes at all? Not even about the repair work that’s still outstanding after last week’s storm?”. He and Ed had done their best, but they’d run out of time to fix everything before the crew had arrived.

“Pfft, you couldn’t help that, and the place looks totes fab regardless.” Lucius tugged at his waistband and grimaced. “If I have any complaints at all, it’s about the fact that I’m going to need to buy bigger pants. The food here is –”. He kissed his fingertips. “Mwah. Especially these whatchamacallits you made for tonight’s dessert. Little drops of heaven, they are.”

“Butter tarts and Nanaimo bars. I’m glad you like them.”

“Like them? They’re so fucking addictive, they should be illegal!”.

“What do the rest of you think about the inn?”. Stede hoped their comments would be as positive.

They were.

“I really appreciate that it’s pet-friendly,” Fang said, giving his goat an affectionate scritch behind the ears. “I would’ve hated to have to leave Billy behind, and he’s having the time of his life eating your grass.”

“The scenery is majestic,” Wee John said. “I’ve been spending all my time sitting outside, admiring the view while I work on my latest knitting project. So relaxing!”.

“You want to talk relaxing? What about those swanky beds?”, Frenchie said. “I’ve never slept on a mattress so comfy. Not even Roach’s snoring could keep me awake.”

“Amen to that,” Olu said, cutting off Roach’s sputtered protests about how he does not snore, thank you very much. “You guys providing a bed that’s big enough for me, Jim, Archie and Zheng is a really nice touch of hospitality that’s made us feel super welcome. We’re used to at least one of us having to sleep on the floor.”

“Not to mention that the bedrooms’ walls are thick as hell,” Spanish Jackie said. “Me and my boo-cakes got up to all kinds of shenanigans last night, and for once no-one gave us grief for making too much noise.” The Swede, who was sitting beside her and feeding her bites of butter tart, ducked his head bashfully.

“Congratulations, guys, you did it,” Zheng said. “You faced down that bad bitch Mother Nature and showed her what’s what, and now you have a fantastic inn that’s going to be a money making machine.” She raised her wine glass. “To our hosts. To Stede and Ed.”

“To Stede and Ed!”.

“Thank you!”, Stede said, beaming from ear to ear. He waited for Ed to say “Thank you” as well, but his boyfriend was oddly silent. “Ed? Did you want to say something?”.

“Er … yeah.”

He seemed nervous, but that couldn’t be right. Ed didn’t get nervous. “Go ahead, darling.”

Ed cleared his throat. “The last time we were all together like this, it was on the Revenge, celebrating Lucius and Pete’s wedding.”

“Woooo! Let’s hear it for getting hitched!”, Pete brayed.

“I couldn’t agree more, mate. Let’s.” Before Stede’s widening eyes, Ed got down on one knee. “Stede Montague Bonnet, will you marry me?”.

Stede was very glad that he no longer felt embarrassed about crying, because he was sure he was about to unleash waterworks that would rival any storm. “Yes. Yes,” he croaked.

Ed smiled up at him. “Then give me your hand, fiancé mine, so we can do this right.”

Dazed with happiness, Stede held out his left hand so that Ed could place a stunning aquamarine ring on his finger. The gemstone winked up at him with flashes of blue-green, his favourite colours. “It’s perfect. I love it. I love you.” He pulled Ed to his feet so that he could kiss him, and their friends cheered.

“When did you start planning this proposal, Ed?”, Jim asked.

“Oo oo, I bet I know!”, Archie said. “I bet it was the night of Calypso’s birthday!”. She elbowed Ed in the ribs. “Right? I’m right, aren’t I? Because that was the first time you and Stede –”.

“A-hem,” Ed said hastily before well-intentioned-but-no-filter-whatsoever Archie could finish that sentence. “No, not then.”

“Then when? Did you have a romantic epiphany? Those are fucking excellent.”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, but” – Ed held up a warning finger as Archie started to say something else – “that’s all I’m going to tell you lot. It’s private.” He grinned at the ensuing chorus of “No fair”, then he deliberately turned his back on the crew so that he and Stede could have a conversation that was for just the two of them. “You know when I had that romantic epiphany, don’t you, love?”.

Stede thought he did. “Was it over a cashmere blanket in my quarters on the Revenge?”.

“Got it in one. ‘Is this silk?’, I asked.”

Stede didn’t have to sift through his memory for what he’d said to Ed next. That entire exchange was engraved on his heart. “I said ‘No, that’s actually a rather exquisite cashmere. Do you fancy a fine fabric?’.”

“I said ‘I think maybe I do,’ and that was when the epiphany happened. Not that I recognized it as such at the time. All I knew was that those last two words rang in my ears like a gong, and eventually, after a lot of soul-searching, I realized that I wanted to say them to you again one day.”

Six Months Later

“Do you, Stede, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”.

“I do.”

“And do you, Ed –”.

“I do. Forever and ever.”