The Thrill Of You

Chapter 3

Stede's POV

I sat in my regular cell, tired and in the dark. The unruly man named Izzy had taken the nearly burnt-out lamp that had been here for a few days, the wax dripping onto the floor. Though he never came back with another, I never feared that Ed would soon end up bringing another when he decided to visit. He was very interested in my stories, my crazy ideas for my life, and I the same as he talked about his adventures on the sea. God, did I crave the thrill just as ever, and maybe even more than before.

The sway of the ship had lulled me into sleep, only having woken up a few minutes ago as my body had adjusted to each time that Ed would come down. He seemed very precise and on time, even though we didn't need a specified time to talk. I was in a cell in the brig, after all, so it wasn't like I would be roaming and he would have to come and find me, or I him. It was refreshing, staying in one place for days and not having tasks or responsibilities that needed to be hassled at someone else's schedule.

Work is something I haven't turned to miss, by far, it had been something that wore me as the years had run by. It wasn't like that when at sea, being kept "prisoner" of a ship. The smell of the sea was faint as I heard a door open, then close and footsteps ensued down the steps before a welcomed light came into view. "Oh yay, you're up," Ed greeted, putting the lamp on the same hook the other had been a few hours ago. "Of course, my inner clock has started to get used to your timely visits. I appreciate them," I told him, sitting up to face him as he put a barrel by the bars. "Well, to be honest, I didn't plan to have you kidnapped. That was Izzy, but I am happy to welcome you aboard our ship," Ed confessed, moving a bit to loosen the brace around his knee. I laughed a little, knowing that it was more of the work of the crew than Ed. I know that now from stories.

"Well, I would say I quite like it here, other than not having seen the sun in about a week... Do you ever think I'd be allowed up on the deck?" I asked, being increasingly bored of sitting in the damp, dark cell rethinking my life. "Well... I don't know. It's complicated with the crew and everything. How to explain taking a supposed prisoner on deck. I'll tell you, it gets to be exhausting not to make a mistake nowadays," He admitted, shaking his head a bit, his salt and pepper hair shaking around and his long hair coming over his beard. "I feel like I've known you for so long, but I'll tell you... I don't want to be Blackbeard. It's difficult getting to know you when everyone just thinks you're my prisoner or that I'm torturing you," Ed confessed with a sad tone, moving his hair to keep it from getting in his eyes. I had only seen him in one light before and it was a familiar glow that came to his face.

"But, you're the most revered pirate on the sea, how can you not want to be Blackbeard?" I asked, standing up and now looking down on him just a bit. His head hung low, the hair that he just removed from his face falling yet again. "It gets old. Make a plan, execute the plan, make the plan, execute the plan, make, execute. It's no way to live," Ed whispered, moving his hair back again, but gripping almost all of it and putting a band around it that held the long fluff of hair in place.

"You ever feel like you're barely floating? Waiting to just drown but keeping your head up is what's best? The pressure pulling at you, but it's complicated and you have to stay afloat," Ed added, shaking his head yet again but only his long beard moved. "Yes, I know how it feels... I've kept myself afloat long enough though," I whispered, walking around in the cell a bit. "I want to be like you, doing something original," Ed told me, moving the knee brace and sighing before looking up at me.

"Let's get your mind off it for now then, or maybe you can tell me another story from your younger days?" I asked, sitting down again, eyeing the brace and tilting my head. "Alright, I guess that was a bit of a dump of feelings, you didn't need that I'm sure," Ed laughed out, though it had been obvious that he really meant it. He really didn't want to be Blackbeard. "Which one do you want to know about?" Ed asked, leaning his head on his hand that was propped up on his knee.

"What happened to your knee? You keep a brace of sorts on it so far as I've seen," I observed, seeing his gaze look down to the knee in question, letting out a small chuckle before returning to the original position he had been in. "Well, accidents happen, it doesn't hurt if I'm using my right most of the time. Doesn't hurt often. But when I was a younger man, I got into a disagreement with another," Ed started, finding the end of the brace with his left hand. "I won, but of course, there had to be that one last ditch effort from my opponent, got partially stabbed a bit, and wandered off to patch it. It was a pain, couldn't walk properly for months, almost makes me regret not having gone to a proper place to get it taken care of," Ed finished, shaking his head and chuckling a bit as he looked over and saw that I had been listening to him the entire time.

"Fascinating that you're walking on it at all then, that sounds risky," I told him, seeing him nod as he loosened the brace to take it off. "I don't really need it much anymore, but Izzy gets worried that it'll get injured again if I take it off," Ed told me, holding it up to show me as he put the leather contraption over his knee. It was funny how used to the presence of the brace I had gotten, feeling that something was off when he wasn't wearing it, even though it was right there in his lap. "Why do you listen to him if you don't need it?" I asked, moving my legs before stretching a bit.

"Well, as long as he's off my back. Besides, it only pinches at my leg from time to time. That's why I'm always loosening it and moving it," Ed informed me, moving his knee to show just how fine his knee was without the brace. I nodded in acknowledgment, looking at his knee for a little longer than I meant to before turning back to him. "So I'd assume there was a scar left then?" I asked, seeing him pull the obvious look as he chuckled. "Of course, it looks like lightning even," He joked, looking towards the stairs in a sudden jerk of movement, which had cut off his joyous laugh.

"Yeah, yeah, Iz. Insane mood swings and what not, I'll be up in a minute!" He yelled in the general direction of the stairs, rolling his eyes. "For fucks sake, I'll be back with your lunch here in 8 minutes, Stede, alright?" He informed me, getting up from the barrel and going to the stairs, climbing them and muttering to himself. He left the light again. As always, it illuminated just enough to see the cell across from the one I was in, one that was similar to mine. Though different from these days in the week, the details of the cell weren't on my mind.

Blackbeard. Ed. They were two different people, I see that now. Though as I was thinking, Ed wanted to resign from putting up what I see now is a facade. He seems more gentle than I would imagine from stories trapped in the books I picked up here and there. The stories were told by others, and it is how Ed had apparently heard of me. But how to help was a question that I wanted to ask, wanted to help. I felt that maybe it was to return the favor a bit, since, in a way, he had helped me escape. I'd find a way to help him if I could.