#Because I feel like part of the reason he fell in love with Stede was because Stede treated him NORMALLY

[saltpepperbeard]

ummmm so what if stede incessantly sticking by ed in season 2 leads to further heartbreak and misunderstanding?

because ed is at what he perceives to be the lowest of lows, the most “monstrous” version of his persona. he’s a beast from the depths, an unforgiving thing of legend, the kraken…

and yet stede sticks by that.

stede ran when he was his softest, his most open, his most vulnerable. so in ed’s eyes, how can it be that stede wholeheartedly loves him? how can it be that stede loves the authentic version of himself?

is he not sticking by to gawk at the legend, at his dreaded mask, just like everyone else?

[plantsjustwannahavefun]

I used to think that the reason I wasn't satisfied with Izzy's death was because I was too attached to his perspective as a character and couldn't focus on the big picture of the season and the main Gentlebeard relationship enough. I mean, I was still convinced that his death and the way it was carried out was a shit writing decision, but everyone else outside the Izzy Canyon circles seemed fine with it, so I was starting to think that maybe they were right.

So I looked back on the rest of the season and rewatched the finale... And realised something that I'd been trying to ignore because it was too painful to admit. A huge part of why Izzy's death hit so hard (in a bad way, not that delicious masochistic pain of having a beloved character die a good, narratively satisfying death) was because throughout this season he was the only character who actually had a satisfying arc and development. Practically no one else did. I didn't actually care for Gentlebeard this season, not the way I cared in S1. From episode 1 to 8 and a half, Izzy's arc was crafted with more care, kindness, subtlety and narrative weight than the main Gentlebeard arc which, in comparison, felt like a string of choppy beads badly tied together in an approximate shape of an arc, but collapsed as soon as you looked at it too closely.

Yes, we all know this season suffered for being 2 episodes too short, but I don't think that's all there is to it. This is starting to feel like GoT season 8 all over again. Would it have been better if it wasn't so rushed? Maybe. Or maybe it would have been even worse because this season just didn't seem to know what to do with itself or the characters. The themes and symbolism are all over the place and completely inconsistent. Ed and Stede's characters are practically back at the same place they left in S1. All they did was bounce off the walls back and forth with no real growth. As soon as they took a step towards fixing their relationship or growing as people, they either tool three steps back or it just got dropped. Stede letting fame get to his head? Interesting and realistic development. And how was it resolved? It wasn't. Stede and Ed being whim prone? I'm glad they brought it up. And then they just fell for another whim and it was presented as a satisfying ending.

Ed went from the Kraken, to taking the first steps towards being Ed, then suddenly all the way to being Ed by way of a Night of Magical Healing Sex that he he didn't actually want to happen because he wasn't ready. And then all of a sudden he pivoted to abandoning Stede and piracy and becoming a fisherman... for 5 min. And then back to Blackbeard again because two fishermen were mean to him for 5 minutes. And then abandoning it again to open an inn. How was any of this even remotely coherent or satisfying? They didn't even have a single conversation about any of it. Ed had more proper closure and communication with Izzy during his dying scene than with Stede and the rest of the crew put together. Izzy's arc got sacrificed to do the heavy lifting for Ed's arc and became nothing more than a shortcut to speed run his character growth. Except it didn't even lead anywhere. "Ed, they're your family, they love you" no they don't, he didn't even have a single positive conversation with any of them except Fang. Of course this could have been the point, and Ed could have seen Izzy's death, his own discovery of found family and his dying words as a pretext to repair his relationship with the crew. But he just left them and stayed with Stede instead.

Sure, you could say this was only the second act of the story, and S3 will resolve everything. But the second act is still meant to move the story and the characters forward in some way. Yes, of course if we get S3, I imagine Stede and Ed's life as innkeepers won't exactly be idyllic. But the problem is that the conflicts they'd have will only be a rehash and repeat of the same conflicts they've already have, or were supposed to have, this season. Multiple times, even. We already know that Ed is simply unable to live with himself no matter what life he chooses. The title of S1 was literally "wherever you go, there you are". We already know Stede's love isn't enough to fix him. We already know their goals in life are completely opposite. Maybe they could have shown Stede realising, after his humiliating in S7, that piracy wasn't all it was cracked up to be or he isn't suited for it, and that's why he chose to leave it behind and open an inn, but that's not the explanation we were given. It was just another whim. They literally didn't learn anything this season. They had two baby conversations in E4 and E5 and didn't take anything from it, just kept doing the complete opposite of anything. "We're both prone to whims, let's take things slow" became "let's take things extremely fast by moving in together permanently and becoming entrepreneurs". They never talked about the actual, deepseated, longstanding trauma issues they needed to resolve before they could even begin to have a proper relationship. They literally got a heavy-handed glimpse in what their life would become if they just stuck together without addressing their own personal issues, and chose to do that very thing. It that's what S3 is going to address, then why were Anne and Mary part of this season instead of the next one?

I remember everyone saying they wanted Ed and Stede to reunite as quickly as possible in S2, and I get why. They have great chemistry together. The season is about them. But for it to work, spending more time apart is exactly what they needed. They needed to learn how to live with themselves and others, first. Romantic love alone can't fix you as a person. You have to fix yourself first. Community can help (as with Izzy's case), but you still have to put in the work. In retrospect, I'm glad that Izzy didn't get a love interest this season - because he wasn't ready yet, and had to learn how to have normal relationships and friendships with other people before attempting an intimate romantic relationship, lest he ended up falling head first unit another toxic mutually dependent relationship. That's what Stede and Ed should have tried too. Instead the show just ended up using Izzy's death as a quick surgical fix, robbing Ed of his agency and having to do the hard work repairing himself and his relationships with other people. There's a sad irony in getting exactly one character's arc just this, and then using it as a sacrificial lamb to patch over the main character's arc.

[urban-amore]

Stede Bonnet and The Point of No Return (™)

Stede’s story is an excellent lesson in The Point of No Return (™). I’m defining this as having a new life in front of you that doesn’t feel like yours, but at the same time, your old life isn’t yours either. You’ve moved past it and, no matter how hard you try, you feel like a fish out of water whenever you go back.

Watching Stede’s flashbacks, you can clearly see he never fit in. Even as an adult, Stede felt out of place in his world, with his marriage, and with his kids. It’s no wonder Stede created an escape fantasy of being a pirate. It was adventure, it was thrills, it wasn’t sitting there watching his family enjoy a lively dinner conversation while he could only watch. After a while, Stede couldn’t handle it anymore. His fantasy wasn’t enough so he took the plunge and jumped into being a pirate wholeheartedly.

The problem is your daydream never matches reality. We only picture a utopia when we dream, because like who wants to dream about the hardships and the mundane day-to-day? No one, that’s the point of being an escapist daydream.

Escapism isn’t all bad. It can be a good coping mechanism to deal with your current situation, but Stede went one step further. He actually made the jump into that life. Since everything he knew about being a pirate was from books or his own mind, this meant he was drastically underprepared (both in skill and in expectations).

Once reality hit Stede, it hit him hard. We see this in the “I’m not a pirate, I’m an idiot” line. The reality of being a pirate is so jarringly different than the one he dreamt up. It throws Stede through a loop when he’s prepared so much for this life, only to realize he’s struggling.

One of Stede’s strengths is that he’s good at carrying on. Like yeah this isn’t an ideal situation, but he’s fought so hard to be here, to walk away would be a tragedy.

But sometimes you can’t keep going, you grow weary and tired and it all becomes too much. For Stede, this came when Chauncey, after yelling at him for bringing down Blackbeard, tripped then shot himself. This changed Stede, his incompetency is one thing, but realizing he was destructive was another. Stede is a very caring person and the thought of being responsible for bringing down someone he loves so much drove him to think, this isn’t the life for me, I’m not worth staying here.

So Stede goes home and right off the bat he acts like everything is normal and okay even though he never fit in and it never was actually normal or okay. Honestly, I think this was a coping mechanism. Like if he could go back to the way things were, he could act like the Revenge was a dream and he won’t have to remember he failed.

But there’s a slight problem with this, everything has changed.

We first see this with Mary. In Stede’s absence, she grew as a person. She found a community with other widows, she worked on her art career, she fell in love with an amazing guy. She moved on with her life after Stede left and she didn’t want to go back. Honoring the contract they made before god was the only reason she didn’t kick Stede to the curb.

Even though Mary let him stay, she continuously reminded Stede she’d moved on by telling him straight up, keeping her art show and art name of “The Widow Bonnet”, and still sleeping with Doug. Her (extremely rightful) refusal to return to the way things were was a constant reminder to Stede that time had moved on. His family went on with their lives and basically forgot about him. This was the first push into Stede’s journey into The Point of No Return.

The other two pushes came from drinking with the guys at the bar and threatening Doug with a cheese knife. When Stede first runs into the guys he expects to be mocked, instead they celebrate him and want to hear about his adventures. At first, Stede’s okay with this since he’s now part of the community, seen as someone who’s cool enough to be there.

Then he realizes that’s not the case. When asked if he’s “ever killed a man,” Stede tries to avoid the question in an attempt to put the past behind him. But when the guy pushes again, Stede says “I’ve seen death. I’ve been the cause of death. It changes you.”

Stede’s demeanor changes after this. He’s not lively telling stories to his drinking buddies, he’s now thrown back into the pirate world he’s been escaping. Stede’s drinking buddies represent where he originally came from. Only imagining the adventure and thrills of being a pirate and never of the true reality that came with it. It’s during his conversation with them that Stede realizes just how changed he is from the man who set out to the man he is now.

This brings us to our second Point of No Return, the Doug Cheese Knife Scene. Drunk from the bar, Stede goes to Mary’s art show. He gets angry with Mary saying she can’t be “The Widow Bonnet” if her husband (Stede himself) is not dead. Stede tells Mary that she should give up the title since he gave up his way of life. Stede is pissed (both in the British and American sense of the word) since to Stede this is yet another crack in his plan to return to his original life. Mary keeping the name “The Widow Bonnet” is her (absolutely correct) refusal to move back to the way things were.

Then Doug, being the amazing BF to Mary that he is, steps in to calm Stede down. Without thinking, without a slight hesitation, Stede sees the cheese knife and immediately pins Doug, holds it to his throat and threatens him. This was not premeditated, this was pure instinct, one you can only get from experience. His time being a pirate and his training with Blackbeard didn’t magically go away once he returned home. It’s now a core part of his being, something he defaults back into without thinking. Something he’s actually become good at during his time on the Revenge.

It’s also something that doesn’t fit with this old world. After threatening Doug, Stede looks around the room and sees the stunned looks on everyone’s faces, then realizes he has a cheese knife to poor Doug’s throat. He’s back to not fitting in this space anymore, not because he’s an outsider, but because of the experiences that have shaped him.

Stede has officially hit The Point of No Return (™). The place he left is not the place he came back to. His wife has a career and boyfriend, his son didn’t recognize him, he was erased from the family photo. Then with his drinking buddies, Stede realized he doesn’t look at pirate life through rose-colored lenses; the horror and bloodshed of what he’s seen will always be there. This brings us to the last nail in the coffin, the cheese knife. His time away has changed him on a subconscious level. Stede now has the instincts of a pirate, which is something he can’t get past. Mary was right to report Stede as dead, the old one died the day he left for the Revenge.

It’s not hitting the Point of No Return that causes Stede to leave again, it’s actually his love for Blackbeard. After realizing he no longer fits his old life, Stede doesn’t immediately leave again since what’s there to go back to? Remember, Stede faced death and bloodshed during his time as a pirate, so why jump back into that? It isn’t until Stede reflects on his relationship with Blackbeard and realizes he loves him deeply that he creates a plan to leave.

Now the puzzle is complete, he can’t return to his old life, but also there’s something better waiting for him in his new life. So that’s why Stede leaves again. Yes, being a pirate means he’ll witness horrible things, but it also means returning to his community, his people, and most importantly the love of his life, Blackbeard.

This is why I find the Point of No Return super interesting. You’re at this crossroad, like should you be living this new life or head back to the old one you knew? It’s hard because none feels right. The new one is scary and there’s so much uncertainty. What if you fail and it turns out you can’t actually do it? What then at that point? So you visit your old life but that doesn’t feel right either. Like you’re not the same person and you don’t fit in. You know it, others know it. It all just feels so… wrong. Your old home has become this strange reality of familiar yet outside of it all. That world is a liminal space; you know it very well, but the feeling you remember is gone.

But what’s the thing that ties us to one path or another? For Stede it was Ed and the crew they co-captained, the ship they ran, the life they built together. Yes that path feels dangerous and there’s still a chance it could go horribly wrong, but the ball already started rolling and there’s nothing Stede can do but to continue with it. After all, he’s already hit The Point of No Return (™).

[deadthingposting]

Ofmd rewatch ep 6 the art of fuckery

So

I know that there is some profound and interesting takes about this episode and any interpretation I could ever have would be probably already said in better words by someone else

That being said

The thing of Ed being the kraken or rather creating it to himself as the monster that killed his father to not feel guilt despite how much his dad was a monster it's really one of the most beautiful plots n the show

His panic attack the actual self hate the way that he says he has no friend the facade of strength and being heartless while craving humanity he asks why stede has a bird guy but made fang put his dog out it's such a duality of his performative strength and violence developed for survival vs actual wish for a softer gentler world he craves to live in

I fucking love him

And I kinda understand Izzy's behavior here going back to violence as a protection if the world stops fearing Blackbeard how well they can truly do for themselves, but also I feel like most of his behavior it is purely a misplaced or misunderstood jealousy (romantic of platonic it is jealousy) and a fear of being left behind

That being said the duel it's one of my favorite scenes as we can truly see Izzy getting erratic out of anger to the point of actually allowing himself to be distracted and eventually losing

I saw a post once saying why people include Ivan on the whole "revenge found family ™" because he isn't really into the whole getting included compared to fang at least and I may say I disagree with this, like there are some scenes showing him being as fed up with Izzy's bs and interacting with the others in the background and also I want him to be part of the found family god damnit.

Lucius finger plot it's disgusting but hilarious and the pay off with the first Lucius/Pete kiss it's lovely

Now some questions:

How many people from Blackbeard's crew are onboard? Cause In the fuckery demonstration there's a lot of shit going on, it's just fang Ivan those two nameless guys I love and Ed?

I'm concerned about the reason of the fuckery, did they just terrified some guys for nothing?

Does wee John counts as a catboy? and if yes can I sexualize him as such?

Overall this episode made me cry fell disgust think about that Front bottoms song -father and laugh about Izzy's bad not good constantly getting worse months

Rating 🐙🐙🐙🐙🐙 five kraken metaphors for your own violence so you don't have to face your own fears

[triflesandparsnips]

In the realm of historical things that could have been true and therefore I am choosing to believe they are absolutely canonical:

Stede has a book of John Donne's poetry.

And he likes it, of course he likes it, it's got a bounce to it, an immediacy, a directness that Stede finds wondrously freeing in the midst of the social nuances he seems to constantly be tripping over. That might be part of why Donne's terribly out of fashion, come to think of it-- being so fond of his work hasn't exactly done Stede any favors.

But. Well. It's not just the tone, or its easy approach. It's... when he was younger, he rather thought that the way Donne described love and, and country matters... he thought that's how it would really be, when it happened for him. When he fell in love and-- other things.

Stede's not sure what love is supposed to feel like, not really-- and so when Donne describes it as if it is to find a hermitage in someone, and she in him; to look into some girl's eyes, and feel the whole world's soul contract... surely that's worth waiting for? Worth seeking out?

But years pass and he's not trying to avoid getting married, he's looking for love, but it... it just doesn't seem to be happening for him. If there's a girl out there who can wake his soul, he hasn't met her, and if there's a girl who carries a world within her perfectly matched to one in him, she must be on some hemisphere too remote for Stede to ever reach.

So maybe Donne is the reason he tarries so long that his father just takes the choice from him. And when he meets Mary, she's nice enough, but... it's not like the poetry, not at all, and he feels like an idiot for thinking it could have been.

It doesn't stop him from picking up the book again and again over the years, though. Looking for the metaphor he must have missed. Stede likes poetry, but he knows he's not particularly clever about it; he thought he'd found something he could understand without interpretation when he'd first come across the book, fifteen years old and about to leave one horror show (England) for another (his father)-- but no, that must've been wrong too.

Eventually he picks out meaning here and there, and latches on to each he finds. (Let sea-discoverers to new worlds have gone.) The sea. That's something easier to picture than finding love. (Teach me to hear mermaids singing.) He imagines adventures, wonders.

(What merchant's ships have my sighs drowned?)

He imagines piracy.

(Whoever rigged fair ships to lie in harbors?)

He imagines leaving.

.

.

The flip of this, is that when he finds Ed--

(Though he knew not which soul spake, because both meant, both spake the same--)

--the words make sense again--

(Some man unworthy to be possessor of old or new love, himself being false or weak--)

--but too late.

.

.

It takes longer than it should, and brings more pain and heartbreak than he'd known was possible to hold inside one body, but still-- they're here now. And just being in the haggard Blackbeard's presence is enough to give Stede hope that things will turn out all right eventually.

Granted, Blackbeard is currently unconscious and recovering from no less than three bullet wounds in the captain's cabin of Stede's stolen sloop. So. There might be some difficulty when he heals enough to wake up fully. That's a problem for future-Stede, he supposes.

He doesn't want to disturb Blackbeard, but, well-- he's not made to be quiet in this man's presence. He thinks he might read aloud, though quietly and with very few voices, to pass the time and comfort Blackbeard's dreams, but they haven't any books on board except the logs. This in turn reminds Stede of some of the things he'd heard about the library on the Revenge-- and he feels a sad pinch at the thought of his old book of poetry gone too, for all that he'd memorized his favorites years ago...

Memorized. Hm.

Stede -- sprawled out in the chair by Blackbeard, tired, heartsick, fearful of some infection or imbalance that will take away any hope of reconciliation and desperate to ignore that possibility -- clears his throat.

.

.

Blackbeard, for his part, hears some things.

A familiar voice, but hushed almost to a whisper, too like the memory of sunsets. Just that would be a hurtful enough hallucination to make Blackbeard want to dive deeper into this darkness until it finally lets him drown, except--

Except that the voice is saying some... interesting things. That need more thorough investigation.

Like when he surfaced long enough to feel a brush untangling his hair, the soft scent of orange flowers returned and ruining him, and the voice saying in lilting tones, Nature drew those magic circles in your eyes, and made your hair the chains with which she ties rebelling hearts.

Like when he felt a hand touch his, a clasp both tentative and testing, and he swam up and up through the black mire until he was close enough to hear, Wilt thou then say now that we are not those persons which we were?

Like when-- staying as near wakefulness as he could manage in the darkness, waiting for these moments and studying each one-- he felt his wounds checked, his blankets arranged, the tired voice still there and close and not close enough, saying By these hymns, all shall approve us canonized for love, and thus invoke us: You, whom reverend love made one another’s hermitage. You, to whom love was peace, that now is rage; who did the whole world’s soul contract, and drove into the glasses of your eyes-- and made such mirrors--

Ed says, not sure if he can be heard in the dark, "What does it mean?"

The voice pauses, and in that pause the whole sea begins to lighten, like the sun has come out after months of night, and Ed feels a sudden strength he thought he'd lost give him the chance to rise up, and up, and up--

"It means," says Stede, as run-ragged as the day they'd met and staring wide-eyed at him and here, fucking here, "it means-- I don't know what it means. I'm not very-- I used to think it meant one thing, and then maybe it didn't, and--"

Ed says, "You learned it anyway?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

And Stede says, "I love you" and kisses his cheek with hard, trembling certainty-- which wasn't exactly the answer Ed was expecting, but he'll take it, fuck, he'll take it all.

.

.

(Much, much later -- and what was really the point of this little plot bunny until "feelings" got in the way -- Stede discovers that even more of Donne's poetry is relevant to his interests, particularly in light of the sounds Ed makes when Stede backs him up against their cabin door and between deep, drugging kisses murmurs, License my roving hands and let them go...)

[nicnacsnonsense]

The more I see and think about what seems to be the prevalent fan interpretation of how Stede and Mary’s marriage fell apart — that Mary tried but Stede didn’t — the more I hate it. It’s just wrong and honestly kind of gross on multiple levels.

Firstly from a basic plot and character level this does not align with what we see of Stede as a character over all, and is just objectively not true. The first flashback we see of Stede’s previous family life is of Mary having a conversation with the kids about their farm animals and Stede attempting to join in. Plus his idea to create a ship in the first place was obviously an attempt to try to make life less miserable for them. You can say that his efforts were misguided at times and that he had a tendency to shut down and withdraw when they were ill-received, but you can’t act like he didn’t try at all.

Then there’s the ableism of looking at someone who almost certainly has some kind of CPTSD from years of being harassed and abused specifically for being soft and emotionally vulnerable and saying he just should have been more open about how he felt. And yes, I understand that mental illness is an explanation not an excuse and that Stede can’t expect people to be responsive to what he’s feeling if he doesn’t tell them about it, but I need everyone else to understand that it’s incredibly hurtful and dismissive to see someone who isn’t being as open and vulnerable as you think they should be and write them off as not trying. Not to mention I haven’t seen a single person (outside of a handful who were responding directly to things I said; love y’all) point out how Mary — due to understandable and valid frustration and possibly even trauma of her own — created a space that was very hostile toward Stede sharing his feelings.

Then for a second go round on the ableism train, there’s the fact that Stede and Mary’s marriage was clearly suffering pretty severely from communication issues, but we’re not treating this a thing that can happen and that both parties need to work together to address. Instead we’re just going to put all the blame for being bad at communicating on the autistic(-coded) character. Fantastic; a real classic that one. That’s not to say Stede doesn’t play a part; he definitely has an issue where when they miscommunicate he will passively accept blame and shut down rather than actually trying to get to the root of the issue. But Mary doesn’t try to resolve any miscommunications either, instead immediately assuming selfishness or other ill-intent on Stede’s part and lashing out at him.

And finally, thematically this ends up creating a pretty terrible message. Their marriage is clearly supposed to be emblematic of the oppressive society that the both of them live in. So when you say the problem was that Stede didn’t try in his marriage it necessarily means that the reason Stede didn’t fit into the aristocratic society is because he didn’t try hard enough. And that’s already gross on its own without following through to the implied he would have been able to fit in and make it work if he just tried hard enough. Absolutely hate that for him 💖

The problem with Mary and Stede’s marriage is that the were both shoved into a role that they didn’t want and weren’t suited for and as a result frequently showed up imperfectly. And they both tried very hard to make it work, but it didn’t and it never would have no matter how hard they tried because fuck patriarchy, fuck colonialism, fuck capitalism, fuck oppressive systems of power. Thank you for coming to my Ted talk.

[greetthedawn]

AN:

I set out with the intention to write 6 chapters over 6 weeks. It turned into 16 chapters over 6 years.

I got Black Flag on my 17th birthday, and now at 23 it remains my favorite story, full stop. I'm ready to move onto other projects, but I know I'll come back to these characters in time. Never at this length or with this attention to detail, probably, but I'm pleased with what I've accomplished here.

At the risk of sounding Oscars speech-y, I want to thank you all for giving this story the support that kept me coming back to it time and time again. I'd also like to thank my college roomie who has been beta-reading and cheer-leading for me these past two years. I never would have finished this story in a vacuum.

I hope you enjoy this last chapter of Come With Me Now!

___________________________________________________

So give me hope in the darkness that I will see the light

‘cause oh that gave me such a fright

but I will hold as long as you like

just promise me we’ll be all right

___________________________________________________

Edward's final act as governor of his own little cove was to finally affix a proper headstone to his late wife's false grave.

He had delayed the task longer than he had originally intended when he had buried the box of her letters just over a year earlier. This was in part because he had grown rather fond of the grave marker Mary had fashioned from an old stool seat. The carvings had held up quite well in that time and it had individuality to it. The time had come, however, to leave Caroline with a memorial that would last in the absence of his care.

The date was October 1723. Edward and Mary had tied up their loose threads in the West Indies. The Assassins had finished shifting their base of operations to Great Inagua. There were no longer any pressing matters keeping them tied to the Americas, and their agreed-upon year had come to an end. The day had come to sail for England.

Edward had truly pushed off this task until the last available moment. Their crew – what men who had chosen to leave with them – were at the docks preparing the Jackdaw for the departure. Mary was in the manor giving each room a last comb-over to ensure they hadn't forgotten any necessary or treasured belongings in their packing. Meanwhile, Kenway was elbow-deep in the dirt with a trowel.

When the hole was reasonably deep enough to hold it firm, Edward shifted the tablet stone away from the tree where it had been propped up and lowered the bottom third into the earth. With a huff, he sat back on his knees to admire his work.

He reached out to brush his fingers across the engraving and muttered, "Two years, I promised you. It turned into eleven, but I'm leaving now. I'm coming back, and I'll come to visit you when I get there. That's a promise I'll keep. I do that these days… I'll find your real resting place, and I'll sit with you whenever I'm in Bristol, just as I have here beneath this tree the past year." He pulled his fingers back from the lines that traced out her name. "I'll see you so soon."

When he had finished repacking the earth around the new headstone, he rose, dusted himself off, and tucked the stool seat under his arm. He made for the house, taking in his lovely garden for the last time as he went. He was satisfied, on Ah Tabai's word, that the false grave would remain in place for as long as the Brotherhood held the cove.

He entered the main hall of the manor and was struck, as he always was, by the grandeur. His eyes fell over every painting and trinket he and his men had won on their travels and brought back there to adorn the walls of their base with. Every trophy, every scuff on the woodwork, every empty bottle told a story of a sailor truly living. He had built something out of this room, something he was proud of. Each of his finest deeds had come together in some way to scaffold what this cove had become.

Beyond the memories he shared with his crew in that house, it had been the cradle where his relationship with Mary had found its legs. She had been at his side when they'd taken the cove, had led him to the manor through the tunnel she'd found in its bowels. It had been in the office where she'd first urged him to the aid of the Assassins, at the docks where she'd invited him to Tulum, and on the patio where they'd finally torn down their defenses and begun to stitch their hearts into one.

He imagined, perhaps, that giving over guardianship of this cove and all its memories to his Assassin brothers would be a small glimpse of what he might one day feel when Jennifer was grown and married and starting a new life with a partner of her own. I cared for her. I watched her grow. I gave her what I had, and she turned it into something greater than myself. She has been my life's great joy, and now I trust you to treasure her the same.

He gave a bittersweet sigh, trailing his fingers over the rough, paint-chipped grain of the back of his usual chair at the head of the long banquet table. He allowed himself five long breaths to imprint the room in his mind's eye. Then, he left through the door opposite the one he had come in.

His heart smiled when his eyes fell on his wife. Mary sat at a small, round table in the sunshine just outside the door. On its surface rested two cups, a bottle of rum, and the journal that held her research and communications on Precursor artifacts. Her hair was tied up in her disguise as James Kidd, but she held herself as Mary. She had an easy set to her shoulders and mouth that told him she was relaxed, present in the moment, unconcerned about who was looking or how she was perceived.

"You didn't nearly forget that was locked in my desk, did you?" he asked, pulling out a chair for himself and gesturing to her notebook.

She offered him a warm smile and poured a drink into the empty cup, sliding it across the table. "I rather had a mind to keep it under lock and key 'til we were ready to sail." She shrugged. "It's too valuable to leave unattended on deck. It's a good job it didn't slip my mind though." She nodded toward the wooden grave marker he'd leaned against the leg of the table. "You bringing that along?" Her tone was amused.

He nodded with a humble grin. "I found it strangely difficult to part with," he answered around the rim of his cup. "Much like this here cove." He gestured generally with his gaze at the grandeur of their surroundings. He imagined their accommodations in London, once they'd settled, would be spectacular. There, however, in Great Inagua, he was a king, and a beloved one at that. He wondered if his heart would ever be graced by that feeling again, to be a leader among men alike in mind and purpose. He hoped he would, in some capacity or another. For all he knew though, he was leaving it behind on the docks.

Mary thumbed the handle of her mug thoughtfully. "I feel like I'm parting with Nassau all over again, though I didn't know that's what I was doing the last time I was there. I didn't know that was a final goodbye, the way I do now."

Edward nodded in mournful agreement. "I think I did. When Vane and I broke through that blockade with his fireship, there was something final about it. Perhaps I might return to the island, I had thought at the time, but our Republic, the community we had built with Thatch and Hornigold and all the rest, that had died the very day Rogers brought the King's Navy to our shores."

She reached across the table to give a reassuring touch to his hand that was picking at the grain of the wood. "At least we know this community here will stand long after we've left it to our stern."

He gripped her hand tightly in return and cast his gaze out over the valley below. From where he sat, he could just barely see the crosstrees of the Jackdaw and the rooftops of the trim shanties and huts of the village. The air buzzed with life and opportunity. The morning was late, and the sun shone high over the liveliness of his dominion. Its warmth was reflected in the pride he carried in his heart; no longer pride for who he was, but rather for what he had helped create.

A short distance down the patio, Assassins and pirates drank together at a large table by the banister. Smiles and friendly jests seemed to waft among them like a gentle breeze. For an endless moment, the scene shifted in Edward's eyes to one he had always dreamed of making a reality, but which had never borne fruit: his fellow devils of the sea, all gathered amicably at his manor, sharing a bottle with not a care in mind.

He saw Stede Bonnet, all draped in merchant's finery and smiles. The portly old chap had carried such a heart for adventure and contempt for domesticity, though perhaps piracy had not been the optimal way for him to explore those sentiments. Such a kind-hearted man had not deserved to meet his maker at the hangman's noose. Edward prayed, wherever his widow and children were, that they were well and remembered Stede fondly.

At Bonnet's side sat Vane. As brash and uncorked as he'd always been, Edward had truly liked Charles and counted him as a friend. The man had had a clever eye for mischief and malfeasance that he expected would not find its parallel in their lifetimes. That was how he wanted to remember Vane, and that was how he envisioned him at that table. His eventual madness and betrayal were long forgiven and forgotten.

The counterbalance to Vane's cockiness that had thrown Edward's life expertly askew was Jack Rackham's wildness. A true beast with a bottle, he'd been, and there was little love lost between them. So many evils of past years had been set in motion by that catalyst of a man. Edward could forgive him for all but that which had cost Anne and Mary so dearly. That grudge was not yet ready to die. Despite it all, Calico Jack had been an influential figure in Nassau and Kenway's youth all the same, and they'd shared more than a few jovial pints in the golden days of their pirate republic. He appeared at the table in Edward's mind's eye with the rest, his cheek propped on his fist and a tipsy, peaceful grin on his face.

His feelings about Hornigold, seated across the table, were perhaps the most complicated he held for any of his old friends. None of the men he'd killed before or since had cursed him with as many sleepless nights. He respected Ben, truly, in spite of how things had ended up. The mentor to his mentor, he'd been a man of true esteem and poise. He'd always been searching for something bigger, something more meaningful than even Nassau could provide. They'd had that in common. Regrettably, however, Hornigold had found it in the Templars. Edward knew his friend believed he'd found the answer to poverty, disease, oppression, all of it, and that Torres had held the key to prosperity for every man. Perhaps there was some kernel, some seed of goodness to the world their Order sought to bring forth, but Kenway was equally convinced that no mortal man could hold such a powerful key and not be corrupted by it. It was that corruption that had led Benjamin to his end on Edward's blade, but as the Assassin reflected on the days the old man had spent carefully training him to command the respect of his crew and fear of his victims, he knew he would only remember Hornigold in fond terms.

At Ben's side, he pictured Anne. Sweet, sweet Anne, with flowers in her hair and a confidence in her manner that the most lush and arrogant man in their ranks could never hope to rival. She'd been a perplexing blend of crass and elegant that had brought joy to all who were blessed to have known her. In truth, her death had rattled him to his core because he had truly thought her invincible against all the particular evils these islands had to bear. She'd been an angel in a hellhole and had not earned her fate. Her loss had been the final, great failing of Edward's greed and hubris. If he was cursed to live in a world where her absence echoed so loudly, he would do his very best to honor her with his life.

Bernard Kenway had been an outstanding father, as they come, but Edward had been a less than exemplary son. For the boy that he had been when he'd reached the West Indies, however, Thatch had been the father he'd needed. He saw him then, sitting at the head of the table where he belonged, just as he had sat at the head of Nassau. Edward still felt his absence in every room of important people. When decisions were being made, plans being laid, he often found himself pausing to give space for the gruff words of wisdom that would never again come. Fuck this world and fuck its gold, Edward thought, remembering his mentor's final words. You were always a hero to your men, Thatch. He and everyone he'd known and loved in the past decade would be forgotten by history as scoundrels and traitors, he knew that, but Jenny and any siblings she might have would be raised on bedtime stories of Blackbeard, the most fearsome and admirable pirate who ever lived. If his descendants knew the name, that would be enough. Edward Thatch deserved a legacy.

Mary squeezed his hand lightly, jarring him out of his reverie. She gave him a sad, knowing smile. "The ghosts haunt you too, do they?"

He nodded, blinking against the stinging in his eyes. The men at the table morphed back into their brothers and crewmen. "In every tavern. At every party."

Her gaze was sorrowful and understanding. "Any place where men are drunk and merry." She raised her glass a little higher before bringing it to her lips, a small, private toast to those lost. "London society could never appreciate the pleasures of frivolity as they did."

He tapped his mug to hers. "Of the things we're leaving behind, I think I'll miss them most of all."

"You don't think they'll follow us to England?" Her tone was sad, but unsurprised.

"They belong here. If we'd died a handful of years back, we'd belong here too. Our memories will go where we do, but their spirits will remain in these jungles." He paused for a moment. "Perhaps one day we'll join them." He was almost hopeful they might.

Mary smirked. "If we live long enough to come back here, I doubt I'll want to live long enough to leave twice." She stood, pulling him to his feet by their linked hands. "But until then, we're needed a long way from here. Come on now. It's time we're off."

Edward picked up Caroline's makeshift headstone and Mary pocketed her not notebook. Leaving the bottle on the table behind, they descended the steps toward the gate that led to town. He stopped them there to turn back toward the manor for a final time. He pictured the ghosts at the table once more, imagining himself almost able to hear Anne's singsong voice and Thatch's wheezing laughter on the wind. It would have been a privilege to sail away with any one of them, but he was taking the one friend he truly had to have at his side. That would have to be enough for this lifetime.

He turned and kissed his wife, long and gentle. "The only place I'm needed is wherever you happen to be."

___________________________________________________ 

So lead me back

Turn south from that place

And close my eyes from my recent disgrace

‘Cause you know my call

We’ll share my all

Now children come

And they will hear me roar

___________________________________________________

A small crowd had gathered on the docks for their departure. Their crewmen were saying goodbye to their loved ones, having a last cup of rum with their friends, pleading with their favorite dancers to stay in their arms just a moment longer and cry a little when they left port. A number of them, Edward knew, had intent to return after a year or two, but none seemed to be able to resist the sentimentality and celebrity of such a departure.

He and Mary made a point to stop and shake the hand of each captain in their fleet as they pushed toward the Jackdaw. At the gangplank of their vessel, Ikal and Glenna were helping load the last crates of supplies. Glenna gave them polite smiles but moved out of their way without a word. It was as warm of farewell as Kenway had hoped to receive. Ikal, in contrast, passed off the crate in his arms to another sailor in order to address them. Edward placed the stool seat on top of it as the man passed him to board the ship, intending to collect it later once he had his crew settled on the open sea.

"I wouldn't worry about her, were I you," he said with a touch of affection and a smirk about his partner. "She bears you no ill will anymore, though I doubt your absence will be greatly noted."

"I would expect nothing more," Mary laughed. She pulled him into an amicable embrace. "I'm glad to part as friends, truly."

"I am, as well," he agreed, releasing her.

Edward offered his hand, which Ikal took without hesitation. "I can never repay you for the service you did our family in helping to find Jennifer."

Ikal smiled pleasantly. "No, I don't suppose you can." With a last nod to Mary, he followed Glenna down the docks.

Edward and Mary exchanged an amused glance and boarded their ship. He greatly doubted they'd ever hear from that pair again.

The deck was all a bustle of activity as final preparations were made for departure. Massey darted in front of them, doing his best to chase the black and white cat that hunted their rats down below deck where it would not get under foot. Jenny toddled over to them, awkwardly carrying the fluffy gray tabby that loved Mary so well. The animal was nearly as long as the girl was tall, and it hung limply with its forelegs stuck straight out ahead. Its expression was unsettled but it didn't make any effort to wriggle free of her grasp. Edward had never met such a tolerant animal, though he'd still rather have a dog. Cats might be better mousers on ships, but wouldn't do much in the way of protecting an estate, he expected.

"What a wonderful helper you are! Thank you for catching that kitty!" he praised his daughter. Mary scooped the cat up and Edward bundled Jenny into his arms.

"Uncle Muh-see not help!" she pointed out, clearly amused by her babysitter's lack of success. She was all smiles that morning.

"No, he's no help at all, is he?" he encouraged, nuzzling his nose against hers, making her scrunch up her face and giggle.

A frazzled Massey worked his way back toward them after securing the first cat below deck. Mary passed the other off to him and it leaned into his embrace eagerly. "I don't suppose you'd stay on as our governess when once we've established ourselves in England?" Mary chided warmly.

The lad gave a playful huff. "As it happens, I've secured employment already." The news clearly excited him. "Bell's sister was recently married to an horologist's son in the city, and the family was gracious enough to offer us positions at the shop. We'll mostly be running errands, delivering clocks and the like, but I'm hopeful the old man will teach us the trade one day." He cast their daughter an affectionate grin. "We'll cross paths at the London bureau though, I'm sure, and I imagine I'll call on you often. Any chance to see the little Lady Jenny." The girl clapped at the sound of her name. She reached out her arms for him and Edward passed her over.

"Well, we're glad you're coming with us all the same," Edward patted Massey on the back as he and Jenny made their way to the upper deck. The young sailor nodded to Adéwalé and Ah Tabai as they passed on the stairs.

"It's hard to believe you won't be here tomorrow," Adé greeted his old captain with a firm hug.

"I'm in as much disbelief about it as you are, mate," Edward breathed.

"Have you decided on a heading?" his friend asked.

"Bristol!" he declared. "I've got some business I need to settle there before I can truly begin my life anew. Once we've finished, we'll find somewhere to settle for good."

"If the wind ever carries you to England, you'll have a warm bed and a seat at our table," Mary assured him as they hugged as well. "You need only ask. Both of you."

"I do not think our kind would be welcomed in such a corner of the world," Ah Tabai sighed. "but there will always be a home for you and your family in these waters if you find yourselves dissatisfied with the stillness of high society."

She smiled warmly. "I doubt either of us will ever be truly still. We'll keep that close in mind, though." She turned to Adé again and procured the small notebook from her coat. She pressed it into his hands. "These are all the notes I have from my communications with our brothers in the colonies. I've written ahead for you, so they'll know of my departure by now. They're chasing some fascinating leads on Precursor sites at the moment. I expect you'll enjoy the work."

He took the notes with a grateful nod. "Perhaps we're due for a meeting, too. I would like to see more of the Americas before my days are done." He clasped Mary and Edward by the shoulders, like he had when marrying them. "My dear friends, you'll write when you've safely landed. Understood?"

They smiled and nodded, hugging him together once more.

Edward turned to Ah Tabai and they clasped forearms in farewell. "Mentor," he started. "I must thank you. You gave me a final chance to prove myself, and I hope I've done justice to the faith you placed in me."

Ah Tabai laughed and held up his hands. "I cannot accept your thanks. In truth, I had given up on you, Edward Kenway. It was Mary who forced my hand, and I cannot say I am sad to see that her instinct continues to prove fruitful." He bowed his head. "Safe travels. May you honor the Creed, and may it bring you honor." He left them then, and Adéwalé followed him off the ship.

Mary and Edward waved them off. "I must say, I'll dearly miss his gravitas," he laughed. She rolled her eyes with a small smile.

Around them, the bustle was beginning to quiet. Preparations were largely finished and those who were not leaving with them began to disembark. The two of them moved toward the starboard side so as not to stand in the way. Men said their fond goodbyes as they passed. Edward knew each by name and did his best to etch their faces into his memory. He glanced over at Mary and could see by the set of her face that the weight of their departure was setting in for her.

Her hand went to her belt, settling on the ruby hilt of the dagger he'd gifted her so long ago, Venganza. Revenge. She pulled it free, balancing the weight between her palms, and looked at him. After a quiet moment, she said, "I don't need this anymore…" The words lingered on her tongue, like she was coming to grips with them in that very moment.

He laid his hand over hers. The steel between their fingers chilled his skin. "Then don't bring it with you."

She nodded and pulled back. Her fingers wrapped naturally around the well-worn leather grip and she paused, indulging in the sensation of its weight in her hand for a moment. Then she turned on her heel and pitched the dagger over the side of the ship, far out into cove. It sliced quietly through the gentle waves and sank, taking pains of the past along with it.

He set a hand on her shoulder and she sighed, seeming to release a weight off her heart. She looked back at him and there was new light in her eyes. "I'm ready now."

He smiled and led the way to the helm.

Jenny had settled to the right of the wheel with a toy. Looking at her then, Edward could scarcely believe he'd ever worried he might not love her. She had so much Mary in her, and a spirit uniquely her own. Every small thing she did or said was a marvel to him.

He was, for a moment, plagued by self-doubt, as he was more occasionally than he would have liked. The Atlantic crossing was not an easy journey. The life that waited for them on the other side was hardly safe, either. His mind went back to his argument with Mary on the evening of their marriage. A choice, he reminded himself, that was their agreement. In spite of his concerns, he could never quite bring himself to feel guilty for taking her away from the safety of the family that had once adopted her. He knew that, had she stayed with them and grown up as Maria Reyes, she would have known nothing but the easy and proper life he wished for her. A small part of him did mourn that loss for her. At his core, though, he must admit that he was still too selfish to truly regret taking it away from her. She belonged with her mother, and with him. In that sense, paired against that alternative, a choice was a blessing. A choice was enough. He couldn't wait to see what she would someday do with it.

"Captain!" Bell called, interrupting Edward's thoughts. The young sailor came to join them, Massey on his tail. "The men are ready to depart. Would you like to take the helm today, or shall I?"

Edward waved him off. "If this is the last time we'll steer the Jack out of this port, I would prefer to do it myself."

"You two go help at the mainmast," Mary suggested. 'We'll handle things up here.

"As you command, Master Kidd," Bell nodded. The set of his mouth was eager, excited. "We'll wait for your call." The two lads descended to their posts.

Edward huffed and tentatively curled his fingers around the underside of one handle on the wheel. He glanced down to his right palm and the long, white scar that ran across the skin there. It was the one Mary had given him when he had attacked her in his desperate panic at the Assassin graveyard, thinking her a ghost. The memory seemed so far away, though the mark was among the more recent that adorned his body. He pulled his gaze away from the thin, pale line and onto his wife at his side as she lifted their daughter to her hip. Jenny grabbed at the beads in Mary's hair – twins to those he still wore on his necklace – making her smile and shake her head to toss them around for the toddler's amusement. She noticed his stare as she did so and paused, giving him a puzzled look. He smiled back at her and touched his hand to her shoulder in their familiar gesture of trust and reassurance.

"I'm ready now too."

With a grin, she clasped his shoulder in return and glanced out over the deck. "Ready, lads!" she called out. "Loose all! Let's catch the wind!"

___________________________________________________

And the ghosts that we knew will

Flicker from view

And we’ll live a long life

___________________________________________________ 

Song: Ghosts That We Knew - Mumford & Sons

[plantsjustwannahavefun]

I don't really remember when exactly my interaction with the OFMD fandom became so limited to the Izzy Enjoyer Corner of it... It's not like I'm not rooting for Stede and Ed too, I absolutely am, and they're the reason I fell in love with this show at first. I didn't get into Izzy's character until my third or fourth rewatch, but I never would have, had it been for all those amazing, insightful meta posts that helped me see beyond the surface and discover all those details I'd missed, all those hidden layers and multitudes... And it turned out that Izzy contained so many of those, he ended up becoming the most fascinating character in the show for me. I just wanted to learn more. I understood exactly, viscerally, what all those people saying "I want to shake him in a jar and study him under a microscope like a bug" meant.

But eventually it became more than that. For some reason I kept finding so much compassion and acceptable in that weird little corner that seemed to encompass the essence of what drew me to OFMD in the first place. It certainly seemed ironic at first that many of the nicest, kindest, funniest, most accepting people in the fandom clustered around this angry pathetic gremlin man, and that fascinated me as much as the character himself. At the time I wasn't aware of this whole rift between the "mainstream" part of the fandom and the "Izzy Enjoyer" part, but something about the latter just made me naturally gravitate towards it before I learned that apparently the "mainstream" part can be more of a minefield...

But then I realised something. I've always been drawn to characters like Izzy, in every fandom. It's just that none of those other characters went on to inspire a "sub-fandom" of their own. In every other fandom, characters like Izzy are only ever treated either as comic relief or as flat antagonists, and most of the fans see them that way too. But this fandom somehow had enough people who saw deeper into this character and created their own corner where liking him was validated. I can actually engage in discourse about my favourite character with other people and not get ridiculed for taking an interest in a "minor" character who's technically an antagonist, but not one of those cool suave mastermind ones that are socially acceptable to like because they're competent and conventionally sexy, but just a regular middle-aged guy with very realistic reactions that aren't always palatable but feel so, so very human and painfully relatable. In other fandoms characters like him don't get thousands of fan fics where they get to have sex and real relationships and character growth because people found them compelling enough to take them seriously as a character, even if the process does involve peeling him to the core like an onion to reconstruct him again, and cackling when he gets mad about it.

I still hope that S2 will somehow close this rift and unite the fandom by satisfying "both sides". In the meantime I'm probably going to keep chilling in this corner for a while.