Where the Stars Meet the Sea - Our Flag Means Death

Chapter 3

Stede loves him. He loves him, he loves him, he loves him.

Blackbeard tries to get the phrase out of his head, tries to erase the memory. But it's there, and every time he hears Stede repeat himself in his mind, his heart can't help but swell.

He was having doubts, but he's sure now. He figured it all out, he said it himself, with some help from his wife. Or, ex-wife. Technically, they never loved each other at all like a husband and wife are meant to. How complicated and unnecessary.

Blackbeard has collected information. Logically, he should make his decision, but there's a nagging feeling in his gut that gets worse whenever he walks into Stede's quarters. Desolate and empty, devoid of the life Stede breathed into it with his library, fireplace, and just himself.

What would Stede think, if he knew how Blackbeard threw all of his stuff away? Well, except for... Except for the stuff not in his room.

What if Stede changes his mind? Snaps at him?

No, no. He can't make a decision until Stede has seen everything. Until they can wholly forgive each other.

The day goes by achingly slowly. Luckily, Izzy spends it in his own quarters, recovering from the multiple boshes he received. Blackbeard spends his time running the ship. Stede's side of the crew didn't help much. He assumes they're all in the dining area, which explains the sudden dip in food supplies.

On his side, Ivan and Fang, help him with the ropes and cleaning the cannons. Shoot, isn't Jim in his crew? Bah, it's fine, they didn't want to be anyway.

In the late afternoon, he hears shouts coming from within the decks. Wiping sweat off with a rag, Blackbeard notices his rouge flaking off on the rough fabric. Usually, he has to reapply every few days.

The shouts get louder until he can recognise them as Izzy's. Sighing, he retreats into the shade of the corridors, making his way to the dining area.

Just as he thought.

"You're not going to sit here all day! You chose to come back, so you better earn your keep." Izzy's raspy voice shouts.

"Careful, Iz, you're about to lose your voice." Blackbeard says, leaning onto a barrel of food.

Izzy spins around, and Blackbeard winces. Oof. The skin around both his eyes are a horrid shade of purple, the left more swollen than the other. "Can you even see who you're shouting at?"

"That's what I said!" One of the crew, Frenchie, says with a brazen smile. When Blackbeard looks at him, he instantly quietens down.

"Back me up here, Ed." Izzy chuckles. "They've been inside all day."

"So have you."

"Wha- Yes, but they're physically fit enough to help around." Izzy splutters, waving his hand dangerously close to Jim. They glare at him, spinning one of their knives around faster. "So what are they? Squatters?" He says.

"Guests. Or hell, maybe we're prisoners and we're slaving away for them. This isn't even our ship, remember?" Blackbeard says, losing his patience.

Izzy starts to smile. "Right. It's not. Speaking of which, we should be getting back to the old Queen Anne's Revenge soon, right?"

That sends murmurs through Stede's crew. His men on that ship are a lot rougher, a lot more prone to violence. Though, he has no idea what the state of them is. Best case scenario, they've been using his flag to easily win raids. Worst case, there is no more Queen Anne's Revenge.

But it's been weeks. The most likely case is that in his absence, they've decided to mutiny once he returns. Izzy knows it too. They've shared the same mind for decades, or rather, Izzy learned from him.