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Chapter Text

On the eve of the Battle of Bosworth Field, Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, got down on his knees and prayed. He knew, his lords had told him, that he was outnumbered. Richard had more men, the home advantage, and he was already on the throne. The deaths of the previous boy king and his brother mattered not a whit to the public. They cared not that they were but young boys. That they had disappeared from the Tower, probably murdered on the behest of the villainous Richard, didn't matter. 

He was a stable king, and that was all that people cared about. 

Henry was aware of his own bastard ancestry. His title mattered very little without the land to back it up. His mother, his guiding voice, was funding his venture. But, as religious and righteous as she was, she was still a woman. There was only so much that she could do, inhibited by nature as she was. 

So Henry knelt on the floor beside his bed, placed his hands together, and prayed. He played to Almighty God for victory, promising that he would turn England into the Christian Capital of Europe. He promised that, under his house, England would turn into the Catholic Church's right hand. He would send any number of apostates and sinners to Heaven, if only Christ would turn his gaze upon him and grant him victory. 

But Henry heard nothing. 

So, as he felt the dawn start to creep into his room, he turned to someone else. Something that his family, that bastard House of Tudor, had been keeping a secret from humanity, from itself. A knowledge that would damn what person who knew, but, as his grandfather has once said "Could cause great personal victory, if one were willing to pay the price."

He prayed to the Other Gods. The Secret Ones. The Ones That Humanity Should Not Speak Of. 

He could feel tiredness pull at his eyes. He swayed on his knees. And he felt about to give up, to crawl into bed and try and catch some slumber, when he felt something...flex...behind him. The large hand curled around his shoulder, and Henry peeked out of the corner of his eye, trying to catch a view of this intruder into his personal space. 

"Greetings." A low voice said, and the hand on his shoulder squeezed. 

"Who..." Henry's voice broke, and, another hand appeared, bearing a cup of weak wine. Henry moistened his throat, noting that the skin of this new hand seemed to be black as pitch. 

"I am a Voice to those whom you prayed to." The voice said, smooth as silk and deep as drums. The hands retreated, and Henry, still on his knees, shuffled around and looked upon the visage of the man behind him. He was as black as any Ethiopian that Henry has ever seen, blacker even. His skin was smooth and almost luminescent, not a hair in place. His face bore a strong, aquiline nose and thinly smiling lips. His eyes frightened Henry. There weren't so much black as devoid of colour and light, and Henry felt himself sway towards them as if he was being pulled in. 

"I am Nyarlathotep." The man said, and, outside his room, one of Henry's guards collapsed in death, his mind immediately breaking from the strain of hearing such a name. 

"I...what..." Henry stammered, his thoughts all over the place. 

"You prayed for help?" The man said, tilting his head, still smiling that thin, unnerving smile. "You asked for assistance? I am here."

"I asked...from the Elder Gods. You are..." Henry swallowed, and then forged on. "Are you a God?"

The man chuckled, and Henry felt something race along his hairline. Later, he would discover a large streak of white in the back on his hair. 

"I am a Messenger. An Intermediary, if you will." The man waved a languid hand, his odd, thin smile never ceasing. "We have heard your prayers."

Henry swallowed and felt cold sweat ru down his back. "And...you'll answer?" He whispered. 

The...creature...tilted his head. "It all depends on what you are asking for, Henry Tudor."

Henry stirred up his courage. He moistened his lips and spoke. "I fight in battle tomorrow, for the throne of England. Against the tyrant Richard. I have a rightful claim to the throne, and thus press my claim."

Nyarlathotep blinked, but kept on smiling that unsettling smile. "The whims of men."

Henry chose to ignore the comment. "I have the rightful, God-given claim. But not the numbers. And I fear that I shall lose."

"Ah." Nyarlathotep said. "And you wish our help."

Henry nodded. "I need the help of the Elder Gods. If you so choose, you can boost our numbers. Give us the backing that God had rightfully decreed. And with your help, I can take the throne that has been stolen from my family."

Nyarlathotep didn't show any kind of facial expression. His eyes, those voids, flickered slightly. Henry, still on his knees, did everything in his power not to move. He felt like something was being drawn around him, suffocating him in an indeterminable weight. It could have been years before Nyarlathotep move and placed a languid hand on Henry's shoulder. Henry felt something shoot through his veins, and, upon being dressed in his armour in a few hours, would find a dark, hand shaped mark on his skin that would never fade away. 

"Our...help?" Nyarlathotep tilted his head, his smile becoming a little cruel. "You choose to ask for our exhaulted help without offering anything in exchange. For shame!"

Henry felt something drop in his stomach. "Of course I offer recompense! I simply do not know what it is your Majesties require!"

"Aaaahhh..." Nyarlathotep drawled, the scent of Henry desperation filling his nostrils. "What can a mortal possibly offer us? After all, you have very little which we would want."

Henry could see sunrise out of the corner of his eye. His time was running out. 

"Anything you ask. Anything you want." Henry said desperately. 

Nyarlathotep's black eyes glittered. He touched the tips of his long fingers to his mouth, and smiled. Henry did everything he could to not shuffle away as he saw perilously sharp teeth. 

"Anything?" Nyarlathotep hissed. His head leant down to look into Henry's eyes, and Henry chose to ignore that he seemed to do it without bending his back. 

"Whatever you ask. If you choose to offer support in this coming battle, then I can give you what you want."

Henry felt sweat drip down his back. Every nerve in his body was screaming danger. 

He ignored it. God had given him a chance at victory, and he was going to take it. 

"When the battle is won..." Nyarlathotep said slowly, looking into the distance at his empty eyes danced. "When you have been secured as leader. We will Ask. And you will grant us our Desires."

"Yes!" Henry gasped desperately. The sun was almost fully up now, but the room itself had never felt so cold and dark. Henry watched as Nyarlathotep extended a hand that seemed much thinner and seemed to have more fingers than before. 

"A gentlemen's agreement?" Nyarlathotep asked, sweetly. But his dagger filled mouth stank of death, and Henry almost turned away. But he didn't. Instead, he grasped the hand offered to him. 

In the years to come, Henry would sometimes wonder if, instead of the Elder Gods he had been told about, he had instead made a deal with the devil.

...

When Richard saw the terrible creatures swarming amongst Henry's army, when he realised what had happened, and what his Tudor cousin had done, he knew that there was absolutely no sense in fighting. Climbing down off of his horse, he rolled his shoulder irritably (it forever ached when he was in armour, misaligned as he was) and tossed the reins to his page.

"Sire?" The boy asked nervously. 

"Run whilst you can." Richard said, walking without looking back. What troops could see him were confused, and agitated, and afraid. 

Richard didn't care anymore. Nothing mattered. The End had come, his foolish enemy making deals with beings worse than anything he could have envisioned. As he walked towards a cluster of bushes, he could hear the terrible wails, screeches and chants from the Creatures aligned with Tudor. 

Kneeling down behind a bush, he prayed very briefly for forgiveness. He wasn't entirely sure that God as he knew Him existed anymore, but he was willing to hedge his bets. Then, without a single change of expression, he drew his dagger and very neatly slit his own throat. 

His helm would be discovered on that bush. When it was placed on Henry's head, 2 months later, Henry looked over his new court and felt nothing but overwhelming terror. As the cool metal touched his brow, he saw his mother and Jasper close their eyes in grief. He witnessed Elizabeth of York, his bride, allow a single, solitary tear to drip onto her fair cheek.

And he felt the terrible touch of Nyarlathotep, that demon he has allowed into his kingdom, grip his shoulder and lean over him. The inhuman, overlong tongue touched his own tears and whispered in his ear,

"We have Such Demands to make of You..."

Izzy

Isabelle Hands was afraid. Terrified. And confused. She griped her mothers hand so tightly her knuckles went white, and stepped forward as the line moved on.

The men had come in the early morning. About 60 of them, armed with muskets and long swords. They had rounded them all up, ever resident of the small village of Little Ovington. There were 267 of them, poor men, women and children. They toiled in the fields, carving up the barley that their parish produced, sold and made their estates owner wealthy. The village itself was makeshift and barely held together. The Lord had seen no need to invest in his workers. There was no school, no healers building. Not even a proper parish for worship.

There was only the work. Isabelle herself worked in the field, wielding a scythe too big for her. Her hands were calloused and rough, and, although she didn't know it, she was regularly regraded as being sub-human by the Lord and his family. Once, a year ago, the Lord had gone for a drive with his family in their hansome. Isabelle had been taking in some water and bread, sitting on a ground, when the daughter of the Lord, a girl of exquisite porcelain beauty like a china doll, had pointed and laughed at Isabelle. 

"You're a funny little pig!" She had crowed. Isabelle had felt a surge of anger and drew back her arm to throw her bread, but her mother had grabbed her arm to stop her.

"No, Izzy." She had whispered. Isabelle had been lucky. The hansome had moved on by then. 

Isabelle lived alone with her mother. Her father had died before Isabelle was born (she had been told), and Isabelle knew that there had been some siblings, but none had lived beyond 2 years. Isabelle worked in the fields, and her mother worked both in the fields and in the house at night. 

But there was never enough. The harvest during the past few years had been getting smaller and smaller. The money was fewer. And the Lord, dismayed by his diminished returns, turned to his God and asked what should be done to reinvigorate his coffers. 

On the morning after Isabelle turned 9, they had come. The men had rounded up the village, all of them. Many people were still wiping sleep from their eyes. With only a few terse words, the soldiers of the Estate had produced chains. They ignored the increasingly desperate questions, and locked every person together. Even the children, even Isabelle, received a clap of a cuff around their right hand, and, when every person was contained, they had been forced to march. 

Everyone was afraid. There was very little talking, except to reassure the weeping children that everything was alright. Isabelle herself didn't weep, but clutched her mother's hand and kept walking. They were marched past their barley fields. Past the woods, and past the streams. They walked for hours, unable to fight back. 

When the line started to slow down, Isabelle was startled from her blank reprieve by the hairs on the back of her neck rising. "Ma, what is happening?" She finally asked.

"I don't know." Her mother said, and Isabelle shivered. 

They stood in the line, a sorry group of sufferers. Up ahead, Isabelle knew there was an abandoned quarry that bordered the estate. It had once been a rich site for onyx production, but had been closed some 20 years. Isabelle wondered if they were going to be made to work in there now. 

There was now movement. Isabelle's mother looked up and frowned when she saw that the Lord and his wife were sitting slightly off to the side. He was saying something, shouting indistinct words to the villagers. Isabelle's mother was about to lean forward when a wave of heat blasted over them. She bowed over her daughter, and watched in horror as...Something...rose up from the quarry.

In later life, Izzy would not be able to fully articulate what he saw that day. All he could say that it was a Fireball, with protrusions. And that he'd never been so afraid in his life before. 

"Great Cthugha!" The Lord cried, raising his arms. His wife tittered and swayed, an acolyte already gone from her own mind. "You have asked, and in return for a bounty, we offer you these people! Take them in the spirit of our agreement!"

The line of people, upon understanding what was about to happen, went berserk. The family at the front, a man and women who had been expecting their fifth child and the 3 children attached to them, screamed in horror as the fireball opened wide its flaming maw and devoured them. The villagers started to try and run, but in all different directions. The chain was jerked hither and thither, and nobody managed to escape. 

The Lady, ignoring the puddle of urine she was sitting it, held a posy to her nose and grimaced. 

The soldiers did everything in their power to control the villagers, whose terror and disbelief were almost uncontainable. Many shots were fired into the crowd, trying to control them. Bodies piled up, and were pulled along, as Cthugha kept feeding. Family after family, men, women, children and babies were turned into ash for the sake of money and power. 

Isabelle stood frozen, a trickle of urine creeping down her leg. Her mind was blank with terror, and tears streaked unbidden down her face. 

Her mother, on the other hand, realised what a fortunate position they were in. There were at the back of the line. All the soldiers were at the front, trying to quell the panic. 

There was no one around them.

"Quick, Izzy!" Her mother hissed, and started trying to force the cuff off her her wrist. Isabelle did everything she could to help, twister her wrist, pinching her fingers. When her wrist started to bleed, they both used the fluid to help the slide. And every second, they got closer to being caught, and closer to death. 

Isabelle's wrist was through, but her thumb was causing the cuff to catch. Realising what she needed to do, Isabelle's mother clamped a hand over her daughter's mouth and wrenched the cuff of, freeing Isabelle and taking a large strip of skin from the back of her hand. Isabelle roared in pain.

"You need to run." Her mother said. 

"Ma..." Isabelle sniffled. Her hand was bleeding freely, and she was weak from terror and hunger.

"Go, Izzy!" Her mother seized her shoulders and stared into her eyes. "You've got run. You have to escape, you have to live!"

"Mama..." Isabelle whispered. Her mother, sensing trouble, turned and was jerked forward as the line got smaller. Isabelle stood where she was, watching her mother. 

With a heroic jerk, her mother wrenched herself back and grabbed Isabelle's skirt. She pulled it off, leaving Isabelle in nothing more than pantalettes and a shirt. "Run and disappear!" Her mother cried, and Isabelle awoke from her stupor. Her hand bleeding and aching fiercely, she looked one last time at her mother, then turned and bolted back. She ran through the fields, past the streams and woods, and, as the screaming and the heat faded, she shed the last of her tears.

A day later, s/he was concealed in the back of a wagon, heading to the nearest city. S/he was garbed in breeches borrowed from Harry Wood, now deceased, and had hacked he/r hair off, giving off the appearance of a waifish boy. As the wagon trundled on to London, Izzy Hands clenched he/r hand. The wound had been wrapped, and Izzy used it, and he/r mothers sacrifice, to allow something to kindle in he/r chest that had s/he'd never really experienced before.

Sheer, burning hatred. And a knowledge that, with the destruction and disappearance of Little Ovington from the map of Great Britain, Izzy would vow to use every ounce of their power to make the Old Gods pay. 

Stede

Mary didn't move. Couldn't move. Not as the Old God rumbled just on the other side of the alter, and her new husband trembled beside her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him, Stede, starting to minutely shake as he stared. 

Mary was an obedient, good girl. She hadn't balked as she had been told, at the delicate age of 12, that she was to be married. She hadn't even objected to not being able to see her new husband until their wedding day. She had been dressed in a white robe, had been taken to a marble chapel by the sea and had been made to kneel next to a boy who looked barely older then her.

And then...

Then...

Mary did not look. Instead, when she heard Stede next to her start to whimper, she reached over and gripped his hands tightly. 'Don't say anything!' She tried to commune. 

To her pale delight, Stede gripped her hand back. 

"Oh, thank you, Lord Hnarqu!" Lord Bonnet, Stede's father who had stared at her with hard eyes, prostrated before the alter. His knees were soaked in red. "May your blessings grace this family and this union for many years to come!" 

Mary let out a shaky breath and stayed perfectly still. She ignored the creeping tentacle that caressed her hair, and touched Stede's chin. She looked down at the floor and didn't shake. 

She was a good girl. 

It seemed like an eternity before the Old God descended from the other side of the alter, creeping back into the void above the water he had emerged from. Around them, men, women and acolytes stood. They shook off their robes and congratulated each other, the atmosphere turning into a party immediately.

"Oh, well done Mary!" Her mother said, sweeping her into a hug. Her hand was wrenched from Stede's and she turned her hair in panic, looking for her husband. "Oh, already so doting!" Her vapid mother said, tittering to her friends. 

Stede met her eyes over his father's shoulder. His blank, hazy look was giving way to panic and devastation, and Mary, from far away, gave him a shaky smile.

"To the house! The new couple need a wedding breakfast!" Lord Bonnet said. A cry of agreement rose up, and Mary felt herself being swept along with the crowd. Throughout it all, she tried to keep Stede in her peripheral vision, and wondered if this was a hideous dream. 

Before too long, Mary and Stede were seated at the head of a table in the Grand Dining Room. The room was extravagantly decorated, with flowers everywhere, and a ghastly, multi-tentacled frieze above the large fireplace. 

It was horrible. 

"I don't think I can eat." Stede whispered, the first thing he had said to her aside from his wedding vows. 

"Just...pretend." Mary whispered. 

This was her wedding. She'd never felt so terrible. 

It was an achingly long afternoon. There was speech after speech, toast after toast. Stede barely moved next to her, staring fixedly at his plate. When his father stood up to give his toast, and Stede saw the red knees of his robe, he bit his lip to conceal his whimper so hard he bled. 

Mary gripped his hands. 

When the new couple was led to their bedroom to 'consummate their marriage', with many a wink and a nudge, Mary stumbled. She had no idea what was going to happen, and had received no instruction. 

"Do your duty, boy." Lord Bonnet hissed into his son's face. Stede didn't react, simply closed the door after his father had left the room and locked it. 

They stood in that room, two complete strangers. Mary, standing by the bed, licked her lips. 

"So, Stede-"

"Excuse me!" Stede said quickly, rushing forward. He threw himself in front of the chamber pot and was violently, immediately sick. Mary wrung her hands and then, sensing that comfort was needed, knelt down and started to stroke his back.

"There, there." She said lowly. Stede continued to heave. 

It seemed like an age before Stede's stopped vomiting. Instead, Mary felt that rhythmic heaves turn into sobs, Stede's shoulders jerking. Mary sniffled, the events of the day coming over her. Nevertheless, she knew that there had to be at least once person in the room with their faculties intact. Standing up, she went over and dipped a cloth into the ewer of water left. She wrung it out and went to where Stede had retreated to the bed, sobbing into his hands. 

"Here." She offered the damp cloth softly.

"Thank you." Stede whispered and wiped his face. The chamber pot was relegated to the corner of the room, and Stede and Mary sat side by side on the bed. 

"I am...sorry." Stede said gently, and Mary was jolted out of her thoughts suddenly. 

"For what?" 

"For...this." Stede waved an arm around, encompassing everything. "I didn't know-"

"I know." Mary said sharply, and the couple lapsed into silence together. 

"I didn't want to get married." Mary finally whispered. It was a secret she'd been carrying for a few years now. 

"Neither did I." Stede whispered back. Mary turned to look at him, at this soft, gentle looking boy, and let a tentative smile grace her lips.

"I only want to read." Stede said.

"I like to draw."

"Are you any good?" Stede asked. Mary would have been offended, if she had sensed any criticism at all in him. 

"Very good." She said confidently. 

"At least you have something." Stede offered, and Mary nodded. They lasted into silence again, but it wasn't uncomfortable. 

"Well, if you are to do this thing, then," Mary finally said, trying to put as much authority as she could into her voice, "we may as well get on the right track." Mary knelt on the bed and faced Stede. "I'm Mary Allamby. I'm 12 years old. I like to draw, press flowers, and I'm very interested with learning to fence, despite it not being ladylike."

Stede stared at her mouth agape, before slowly smiling. He too knelt on the bed opposite her. "I'm Stede Bonnet. I'm interested in books, animals and pirates. I will one day be lord of this estate, and you will be my lady."

"Pleasure to meet you." Mary said, and held out her hand. Stede gave a small laugh, the first he'd given all day, and shook hers. 

"It's good to meet a fellow ally." Stede said, and Mary nodded.

"Yes." She liked that thought. Allies. "At least we've got each other."

It would take a number of years for true trust to happen between the two of them. But their bond would eventually lead to a shared goal that would tip the balance of power from the Old Gods to someone else. 

Ed

Elizabeth loathed being pregnant. She hated the weight gain, the unsteadiness, and lactating. She hated the lines running up and down her belly, her wild sickness, and the fatigue that struck from no where. 

But more than anything, she hated being stared at. 

Taking a walk within the grounds was a daily occurrence. To try and keep her strength up, despite other ladies in her condition being allowed bedrest. 

But maybe because her baby...

No. Elizabeth shook her head. She adjusted her hood and peered around the tree to her...protecters...those loathsome individuals in white tunics that watched her with hawklike eyes. Absolutely not. She would take her daily walks with grace, and ignore those women flaunting their similar bellies with narrow, cold smiles. 

As she rested on a bench, she felt her baby quicken against her skin. It was happening more and more.

"Hush, my Edward." She warned the babe. Any movement of the babe was quick to be documented, even at the expense of her dignity. Once, she was at court, and her belly had visibly moved. Quick as lightning, she had been stripped of her gown and had been left standing in her shift, exposed to the whole court as her men took notes on what was happening. 

Her humiliation had been such that, in her anger, she had struck the lead Lord in change when he enquired as to her health. Now, she was allowed her privacy. 

She taken his eye out. She'd been aiming for his throat. 

She hated her circumstances, yes. Every moment of her life was now watched and documented. She was the court joke. The jester without the pay. 

But try as she might, she could not loathe her baby.

It was...peculiar. She had become pregnant in the worst possible circumstances. When she thought of that night, she would quickly lose what little she'd eaten. And yes, she hated being pregnant. But the baby itself? 

She was excited to meet him. 

It hadn't seemed real. Not until that first quickening. But now, he didn't seem to want to slow down. He would move against her skin, her hands. He would react to her voice, when she sang or spoke to him. 

But only to her. Try as they might, her companions couldn't get him to react for love nor money. 

Elizabeth leant back against tree and stared into its boughs. Underneath her hand, her little Edward stirred and rippled against her skin. She ignored the white tunics fluttering at the edge of her vision and simply breathed. 

She would gather her strength for the fight for her boy. She knew, now, when and how to pick her battles. After all, when she birthed Edward, she knew that she would no longer be alone. 

Chapter Text

London, 1843

Izzy had never run so fast in his life. He ignored the screams of the crowd around him, and used the heaving crowd to disappear. His boots pounded on the cobblestones, and he pushed people out of his way when he thought he saw shadows out of the corner of his eye. 

'Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck!' He thought as he ran. 

They'd accounted for everything. The crowds, the balcony, the angle. They'd even calculated how big the explosion would be, so as not to hurt the kids. Wee John had been explicit and exacting in his calculations. Jim and Archie had climbed like spiders over the roof and placed the bomb, so tiny and well-concealed. 

They'd even consulted a so-called Magic Man, someone Ed had sworn by, to see whether this would work. 

They'd hadn't factored in a new baby. Nestled so delicately in the Queen's arms. 

Not even Blackbeards Crew was willing to kill kids. 

The second she had moved out to the balcony, and the Crew had recognised what she was carrying, there had been a frantic movement to try and disable the bomb. Izzy knew, even as he ran through washing lines and linens, that they'd almost been too late.

It had been Ed to suggest, in that unnatural way that only he could do, that they should alert the very creature that they'd been attempting to kill. Frenchie had been the one to throw the rock, landing it close enough to both Nyarlathotep, who'd been lingering at the back of the Royal Family smiling blackly at the crowd, and the bomb. 

Nyarlathotep had noticed the envelope, and, by the Grace of someone, the Price Consort had recognised what was about to happen and had ushered his family back inside. 

The awaiting crowd wasn't so lucky. Nyarlathotep had not been forgiving, shedding his humanity appearance and bringing forth other abomination's from the sky, tearing into people like well cooked meat. 

Izzy knew that they might not kill kids, but the Crew certainly had blood on their hands. 

Izzy's side was aching as he entered the borough of Whitechapel. The sweat condensed around his hairline, and, far enough away from the terror at Buckingham Palace, he slowed his pace. His feet ached in their boots. Taking out his key, he opened the door to their hideout. A somewhat rundown tenement that they owned outright on Underwood Street, the perfect place for a group of people to plan anarchy. Not too rich, not too criminal. They blended right in. 

Izzy leant against the door and undid his cravat to wipe his face. He stared at the ceiling and clenched his teeth in anger. 

"Two fucking years!" He hissed. He thumped his hand against the door. They'd spent 2 years planning, building, conserving their energy and resources. 

And it had all been buggered up because none of them realised that the Queen had been knocked up again.

Izzy kicked the door and then walked to the kitchen. He didn't jump, but let out a sigh of relief when he saw Frenchie, Roach and Black Pete sitting at their rough kitchen table, already with cups of tea at their elbows and Roach's sinfully good shortbread on a plate between them.

"Thank fuck." He breathed and slumped down into a chair, and Frenchie wordlessly poured him a strong brew, sliding it to him with a slice of shortbread. 

"Anyone else got back?" He asked. Black Pete shook his head, his waistcoat and jacket slipped onto the back of his seat. His shirt was pasted to his back with sweat. 

"Just us so far, but I have no doubt that everyone else will be safe." Roach said confidently. Frenchie nodded, but his nerves were betrayed by how he picked his shortbread to pieces. 

"How did this-" Black Pete started, but Izzy held up his hand.

"Not until we're all here. You know the rules. No one get's half truths."

That had been a rule Ed had imposed when they had first started their mission. When it had only just been Izzy and Ed. "Half truths get people killed and plans to fuck up, Iz." Ed had said, his eyes sparkling in the grey dawn. 

No one drank their tea, but the shortbread had been demolished by the time Wee John, Oluwande, Fang and Ivan came through the door. Their clothing, smarter than the others as they had been amongst the upper classes, was also stacked in sweat, and Ivan in particular tore his silk jacket off as soon as he entered.

"How did you get away?" Frenchie asked. 

"Carriage. In the chaos, no one noticed us." Oluwande said, hanging his head in exhaustion. Izzy, needing something to do whilst Ed, Jim and Archie were still missing, got up and wordlessly lit the fire under the kettle, starting another batch of tea. They had been rationing coffee the last few months, as their plan had come together and Ed had insisted on tightening his seemingly endless pursestrings. 

Tea, on the other hand, flowed like water within the house. 

"Did you...see anything?" Pete asked in a low voice, and Fang made a wounded noise.

"They'll publish the count, but..." Wee John said, looking uncomfortable. He took his cup from Izzy with a small node, and took out his handkerchief, charting to wipe the greasepaint he'd put on his face to conceal his tattoos.

"At least 20, probably more." Oluwande finished. Izzy, his back to the group, winced. 

"Did he at least spare the kids this time?" Frenchie whispered. Fang, without a word, took, Frenchie's hand and squeezed it. 

That was all the answer that they needed. 

Needing some air, Izzy turned back to the group with the boiled kettle and placed it on the table. "Going to the roof." He said roughly and exited the room, climbing the stairs and trying not to hit the walls with frustration as he went up. At least most of the gang were back. 

Climbing 3 flights of stairs helped get his temper down, but as he walked to the small ladder that led to their roof entrance, the skylight opened and Archie jumped through, panting. Behind her, he saw Jim being lowered down, and then, to Izzy's relief, Ed quickly followed, closing the opening and locking it securely. Ed met Izzy's eyes, and Izzy swallowed.

"They all got back safe." He said before Jim and Archie could ask. He caught their eyes, so worried and disappointed, and gestured downstairs. "In the kitchen."

Jim and Archie took the hint, racing downstairs, whilst Ed leant against the wall. He closed his eyes, breathing deeply. His unfashionably long hair was coming out of its braid, and Izzy's fingers twitched to undo it and brush the grey strands out. 

But he couldn't. Not then, and not for several months now. 

"Ed, what the fuck?" Izzy said lowly, anger colouring his voice into a low hiss. 

Ed opened his eyes and looked at Izzy. Izzy tried to read the emotions in Ed, but, like usual, Ed was concealing his thoughts. Even so, Izzy could see the same frustration and anger that he felt. 

"We couldn't have done it."

"Ed-"

"Iz, no. You know the rules."

"We had a fucking chance!" Izzy hissed, throwing his hands in the air. 

"I know."

"We could have done it!"

"I know."

"Fuck, Ed! We could be free by no-"

"I FUCKING KNOW, IZZY!" Ed roared. "Fucking Christ, I know!"

They stood, staring at each other. There was anger, sorrow, deep pain passing between them. Everything that they had planned, thought out, wanted. Down the drainpipe in seconds. 

"The crew are downstairs." Izzy finally said. Ed nodded, and then walked past Izzy. He passed by without touching him, and Izzy's skin burned. 

Izzy, left alone at the top of the flights of stairs, took the opportunity to breathe. There was so much emotion coursing through his veins he felt like he could burst.

His hand ached. Izzy, without noticing, massaged the back of his right hand through his glove. The large scar was hypersensitive, and Izzy very rarely bared it to the world. 

Ed knew. He had asked about it, once. Izzy hadn't been able to tell him at the time, but, a few years later, Izzy had gotten drunk enough to tell Ed his story. It had been the only time, but Ed had a mind like a steel trap. He remembered everything. 

Izzy managed to get his breathing under control, and then made his way back down to the kitchen. By the time he had got there, their entire biscuit ration had been laid out, and Ed had broken out the coffee. Jim and Archie had pulled their chairs by Oluwanda, Jim having wormed their way under his arm, and Archie actually sitting on the table, tapping her hands nervously against her knees. 

Everyone looked up as Izzy entered, and Fang pushed Izzy's chair open at the head of the table. Izzy sat down, and Ed walked over and wordlessly handed him a cup of coffee Izzy knew was so strong that it could stand a spoon. 

No one spoke. Everyone was waiting for Ed to sit down at the other end of the table. When he did, the silence grew until it was defeating. Finally, Jim, taking a deep breath, spoke up. "What happened?"

Ed let out a deep breath and leant back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. "We fucked up."

"How, thought?!" Frenchie exclaimed, throwing his arms in the air. Archie nodded, taking a deep bite of her biscuit. 

"We checked the papers everyday! There was no mention of a pregnancy!" Fang said.

"The Princess Royal is only 3! We didn't even think they'd bring the children out on the balcony!" Oluwande pointed out, sounding distressed. 

"This has Nyarlothotep all over it. I can't see the Prince Consort agreeing to this off his own back." Jim said darkly, before taking a deep swig of coffee. 

"Why not? Why do you think Albert would disagree?" Pete asked. 

"He's got sense, apparently." Izzy muttered, looking into his coffee. "And you know what they say about the German States?"

"Which are just fucking rumours." Ed said sharply. He fixed Izzy with a dark stare, which Izzy, now he had calmed down, gave back. He could look Ed down as good as he got, and he'd been able to do it for years. "We don't know the truth of what's happening on the Continent. We should be focusing here."

"We have done. We fucking failed." Izzy ground out. 

"We...could have-" Archie whispered softly. 

"Absolutely fucking not!" Ed snarled. Izzy felt that flash of fear he got whenever Ed's temper rose, which he tamped down. He also ignored the whiff of saltwater he usually got as well, taking a large mouthful of his coffee to drown out the smell. "We're meant to be bringing out a better future. The minute we start killing children, we sink to their level."

"And yet the general crowd was fine?" Jim sniped, and everyone resisted the urge to shiver as the temperature seemed to drop.

"Wee John," Ed barked, turning to their explosions specialist. "Would the bomb you built have taken out any of the crowd if it had gone off like planned? Would any of the crowd have been harmed, in any fucking way?"

"No." Wee John said softly. "It was designed and built so that only the people on the balcony would have been...killed."

"You all knew what we were planning to do. We all know what we were planning for. We planned for 2 years. You all know that the monarchy is too far gone to save. And we all believe that the Prince Consort would agree with us." Ed said harshly. 

Izzy didn't move. He looked as Ed gave every person in the room a hard stare. This was a much harsher Ed than he was used to. Usually, there was a lightness to Ed. A quip always on the edge of his warm smile. Izzy wondered if Ed was feeling the same bitterness that he was. Every person in that room had been affected by the Old Ones. Some more than others. Everyone one of them had their stories. Even Izzy had given a (very) abridged version of what happened to him.

But Ed was a brick wall. No matter what had been asked, not even Izzy had managed to pry out a single word of Ed's past. All he knew was that Ed had a hatred in him of the Old Gods that eclipsed even Izzy's. 

"This has been a shit day. A shit mistake, but one we couldn't have foreseen. There's already an heir." Izzy said firmly. The air in the room became clearer as everyone felt minutely absolved. 

"There hasn't been a large royal family since Charlotte." Roach said.

"And we all know what happened to them." Ivan added, and everyone either winced or shuddered. Even Ed, who looked a bit sick. 

"Hopefully Albert will put a stop to a large family. But even so-" Oluwande said, trying and failing to sound optimistic. 

"No kids. We are not Them." Izzy said firmly. Finally, Ed's eyes softened, and he nodded.

The tension remained in the room, but everyone seemed to relax slightly. Even though it was still early, everyone had been running on adrenaline and very little sleep for the last couple of days. Roach stood up and went to the icebox, peering in at what they had in stock. Once again, Ed's apparent copious amounts of money allowed them to have meat regularly, and Roach grabbed a hunk of beef and what vegetables remained. 

"Stew and a new loaf of bread." He said cheerfully. The crew perked up, and Archie even cheered.

"Clean knives, if you're going to help!" He added. 

"Wash your hands. Last thing we need if a fucking plague to go round the building." Oluwande said, and everyone nodded, walking to the sink in a line like schoolchildren. 

"Izzy, a word?" Ed asked as everyone crowded around the table, stew and break making ingredients laid out and Roach already delegating. Izzy nodded and left the room, following Ed up the stairs to the first floor when the majority of the bedrooms were. Ed walked into Izzy's room and Izzy closed the door behind them, watching as Ed seemingly collapsed into his bed. He folded his hands together and started at them, chewing on his lip. 

"Ed, today-"

"Was too fucking close, Iz." Ed said, not looking at him. "They don't know. They don't know how close we all got to being caught."

Izzy felt himself go cold. "The fuck, Ed?" He whispered. He hadn't known. "How...what...did we-"

"Not Him." Ed said, looking up quickly. "Not Nyarlathotep. But some of the lesser ones. As they came out of the portals, I think they may have marked us."

Izzy leant back against the door, trying to keep himself upright. His chest felt tight, and Izzy tried to take deep breaths. "Are we followed?" He finally asked. He closed his eyes and breathed out as Ed shook his head. 

"No. Made sure that there was nothing attached to us. Part of the reason it took a while for me to get back with Jim and Archie." Ed finally looked up, and even though Izzy was relieved that they hadn't been followed, the hollowness in Ed's eyes made his stomach turn. 

"Iz, we can't stay here. We need to get out."

"We can't abandon-" Izzy started, a surge of anger in his chest. Ed, surprised, held up a hand.

"No, Iz!" He said in surprise. "Fuck, not that!" He kept his eyes on Izzy. Their relationship might be purely professional at the moment, but there was still, and Izzy suspected (hoped), tenderness between the two of them. He'd known for years, perhaps since the moment they'd met, how devoted Izzy could be. To the Crew, to their cause. 

To Ed. 

"Iz, we need to regroup." Ed said, keeping Izzy's gaze. "We had a severe fucking setback. We had everything in place, but lack of information fucked us over. We need time to...shit..." Ed sat back and tried to run a hand through his hair. He snarled as he realised that his hair was still in a braid, and yanked out the tie, letting his hair out. He rubbed his face, his lightly bristled jaw rasping against his hands. 

"We need time." Izzy said softly. He walked over and sat at his desk. 

The silence stretched between the two of them, fraught with tension. 

"I don't...think..." Izzy started, and then stopped. He licked his lips, consolidating his thoughts, and then started again. "I think we need to move out of London."

Ed looked at him, narrowing his eyes a little bit. "Why?" He asked. 

"We might be too close to the situation." Izzy took his eyes away from Ed's and looked at his papers, strew across his desk. Nothing truly incriminating, nothing that could land him in prison or in the sacrificial cells. But Izzy felt the zing of Something Else watching him, and, to keep himself occupied as he thought about what to do, he gathered them into a neat pile. 

"You might be right." Ed finally said in a low voice. 

"And if we've been marked..." Izzy trailed off, and then took a deep breath and turned around. 

"We weren't followed, I made sure." Ed said quickly, standing up and walked to Izzy. 

"But we do need to get out. We need time to evaluate the situation, see what happened. We need to figure out something better."

"You want to continue?" Izzy asked, feeling optimistic for the first time today. Ed laughed. 

"Of course!" He said. "So we fucked up today. Doesn't mean we'll fuck up next time. We just need some time to get away from everything. Really hash out something full-proof."

"As long as we can get away to something that'll allow us to plan effectively." Izzy murmured, mind already whirring with ideas.

"That's my Iz. Already thinking." Ed said warmly.

It was lucky for them, in any case, that Jim had decided to follow them. Lucky that they'd taught them to be so discrete. Because, without Jim choosing to share this new direction with Archie and Oluwande, they might never have seen the advertisement.

...

Three days later, the crew were crowded around the table having a quiet breakfast. Ed was drooping into his eggs, having come to the very edge of his endurance for staying awake. He'd been going over and over their previous attempt, trying to figure out any way they could have known about the baby. 

He'd even got the stage of waking Izzy up at all hours to go over ideas, enough so that Izzy had threatened Ed with a knife the last time he'd come bursting into his room. 

So everyone was quiet as they ate. Many of them were in their robes, and, as Roach dished up eggs and toast, various newspapers were perused. So far, so good, as Izzy pondered the crew. Everyone was being normal. 

Everyone except Jim, Archie and Oluwande. Izzy eyed them as they huddled together, looking at the small strip of paper in Archie's hand. Izzy narrowed his eyes.

"Something interesting?" He asked. Archie jumped and looked up, and then, inexplicably, grinned. 

"Might say that." Jim said, grinning slightly. They looked at Oluwande, he nodded. Leaning over, Jim handed over the slip of paper. Izzy looked at it and his eyes shot up to his forehead. 

"Is this serious?" He asked. Ed managed to rouse himself and look over Izzy's shoulder, suddenly becoming more awake. 

"We haven't managed to contact them yet, but it seems so." Oluwande said carefully, but there was a cautious trace of hope in his eyes.

"You guys said we needed to get out, to regroup. This may be the solution." Jim was confident, and Izzy felt a flash of affection.

"Little spider." He muttered, and Jim preened. 

"Dorset?" Ed whispered. "By the sea." Izzy felt something shoot up his spine. He'd never heard Ed sound like that. 

Whistful. Hopeful. Longing. 

"How can we be sure it's genuine, though?" Frenchie asked. He'd moved and had read the ad slowly over Izzy's shoulder. 

"Can't really know until we reach out. Mind you," Ed said, looking around, "we're in a better position than most people to fulfil the positions."

"But an entire staff?" Roach said. Archie had managed to tell everyone else, and the Crew were now staring at Ed and Izzy, questions in their eyes. "What the hell happened at the Bonnet Estate that they need an entirely new staff?"

Dorset, 1843

"I hate you!" Alma cried and stomped her foot, and Stede resisted the urge to rub his temples. Behind him, he could feel Mary readying herself to intervene, and he appreciated that this had happened when Mary was at least with him. After all, the decision had been made by the both of them.

Funny how cavernous the house seemed to be without all of the people it needed to run it. 

"Alma, don't talk to your father like that!" Mary scoulded, coming to stand by Stede's side and looking at her daughter. Alma looked at the both of them, united, and sucked in a deep breath. Her face was streaked with tears, and she looked furious. 

"But...but he-"

"I know." Mary said. She guided Alma to the sofa and sat down with her. Stede, left standing there, took in a deep breath and rested a hand against the back of a chair. "Alma, what happened was a decision made by both myself and your father. You knew the rules, they knew the rules, and when you break the rules, then you get punished."

"But Miss Mourdant-"

"You know what happened." Mary's voice hardened. "You were there. You knew you're not allowed to go the village, and yet you went anyway. And Miss Mourdant allowed it. Jennings allowed it. Cook allowed it."

"We have these rules for a reason, Alma." Stede said, trying to sound authoritative when faced with the sight of his distraught daughter. It was hard on his heart, seeing his little girl in such distress. "Everyone knew them."

"But why?!" Alma cried out, and Mary gently started wiping her face with a handkerchief. She looked at Stede, an agonised expression on her face. It hadn't been easy, keeping the secret. Especially since they had had children. 

But they both knew that they couldn't tell anyone. This was their pact, made on their meagre honeymoon, and for the last couple of decades, they had stood by it religiously. 

"We have our reasons." Stede said slowly, feeling slightly wrong-footed. This had been easy enough to dismiss when Alma and Louis were smaller, but now, as they became older and started piecing things together by themselves, 'Just Because' was now becoming an inadequate excuse. Stede and Mary hadn't managed to figure out a way to give them a reason why they had to be isolated in the mansion. Why their friends from young childhood had been sent away as their schooling had become more serious. Why the only people they talked to were the servants, their nannies, and their parents.

Why they only saw their grandparents on High Holidays, and were never left alone with them. 

Stede wasn't stupid. He could see the damage being wrought upon his children, and many nights had been spent with Mary, both of them tearing their hair out to figure out a way to ensure their children grew up happy, healthy and well-adjusted within society without the trauma and terror that seemed to be a pre-requisite. 

Stede and Mary had vowed to never let their children go through what had happened to them. Instead, they seemed to be causing a different kind of trauma. 

"Alma, we can't-" Mary started, but Alma, still enraged and tearful, shot up from the sofa and ran out of the room. She opened the front door and ran out. Stede looked after her, his heart heavy. He knew that Buttons, their groundskeeper (at least, that's what he called himself. He spent most of his time down on the beach, talking vigorously with the sea, the sky, the clouds. But he kept the flowers beautiful, so Stede and Mary were willing to forgive him his eccentricities), wouldn't let her go beyond the boundary to the main estate. The village was a good half mile walk, and Alma was wearing her Sunday best. She wan't eager to try and make the walk, not with Buttons willing to scare her witless to get her away from the main road. 

"That went well." Mary muttered and leant back into the sofa with a huff. Stede puffed out and sat in the chair, looking at his wife with a grim smile. 

"We forgot about them growing up." He said wryly. Mary shook her head gently, and then looked up at the ceiling when a burst of laughter ran through the house. "At least he still likes us."

"He's not old enough to know any better." Mary sounded wistful. Alma might be older, and starting to batter against her restraints, but Louis was still innocent. His grandparents hadn't been able to corrupt him yet, although, being the only male, Stede and Mary knew that it was only a matter of time before they got their claws into him. 

They had, maybe, 3 years. And Stede and Mary had no idea how to stop it. 

Mary and Stede looked up as Doug popped his head around the door, and then walked over and sat beside Mary. Without a word, she leant over and rested her head against his shoulder, and he wrapped an arm around her. He looked at Stede with a sympathetic smile.

"Didn't go well, then." He said. Stede shook his head. 

"She said that she hated us. She's never said that before." Stede whispered. His poor daughter. 

"She doesn't mean it. She's just frustrated." Doug, ever the reasonable one. Stede gave him a small smile and then stood up, walking to the door. He knew when Doug and Mary needed time together. Walking up the stairs, he paused at the door to the nursery, and watched as his son wriggled on the group in paroxysm's of laughter. Standing at the chalkboard, Lucius was watching with a smug smile. 

"Maths is going well, I take it." Stede said, walking in and squeezing himself into the small chair at the second desk. Looking over, he saw Louis' shaky handwriting on his own board. it had take a long time for Louis to start writing. Not that he was backward, not at all. He was highly intuitive, and was able to read just as quickly as Stede had. But writing had been a struggle, and Stede was forever grateful that Lucius had come to their house just as Alma was starting to begin her formal schooling. It might not be usual, a young woman having a male teacher, but Mary, Stede and Doug had been determined that Alma would be as well educated as any gentleman. 

Lucius was acerbic, sarcastic and bitingly honest. Stede couldn't think of any kind of life without him. It was nice to have a servant (although Lucius felt more like a friend) in his household that told him the truth. 

After all, without Lucius and corroborating evidence by Buttons, Stede and Mary would have had no idea that the children had been allowed into the village. 

"Master Louis doesn't seem to be able to get through simple equations without a joke." Lucius said, smiling at Louis as the boy gathered himself, and grinned up at his father. 

"I completely understand." Stede said solemnly, and reached out, adjusting his son's lapel. Louis smoothed his own hair down and sat at his desk, gripping his chalk tightly and staring at Lucius with wide brown eyes. 

"I can go now." He said, and Lucius ruffled his hair. 

"I know that it's difficult, but mathematics is something that you'll need in life. At some point, you'll be head of the estate. You'll need to be able to read the books correctly." Lucius said, and Stede fixed his face into a calm smile whilst his stomach swooped. Lucius caught the change in his eyes and frowned slightly, and, as Louis bent over his blackboard, Stede shook his head slowly and mouthed 'Later.'

It soothed Stede's spirits, spending the afternoon with his son. His relationship with Alma had been rapidly going downhill as she got older and realised what a cage she was in. She might dress in the best clothes and have the best toys. But she wasn't stupid.

The bars may be invisible, but they still existed. 

Louis, on the other hand, was still just young enough to blindly believe his parents. His sweet nature, coupled with his age, made spending time with him a respite from the tight atmosphere that existed on the estate. 

That evening, as Stede sat in his study after an appalling dinner (cooked by Lucius) with a brandy, Lucius knocked on the door and waltzed right in. He took a seat on the opposite side of the desk and poured himself his own glass, taking a deep sip and looking at Stede. 

"Soooooo..." He trailed off. Stede set down his glass and allowed his head to collapse into his arms, groaning. 

"That was a fuck up." Stede moaned into his sleeves. Lucius snorted.

"You dismissed her governess. She loved Mourdant, of course she's going to be pissed off."

"You all know-"

"The rules, yes yes yes." Lucius said, waving a hand. Stede raised his head just enough to glare at Lucius over his arms. "You know, if you told us the reasons..."

"No, Lucius." Stede said, finally raising his head off of the desk and taking up his drink. He took a deep pull and winced at the burn. "As much as I trust you, and I do trust you, I can't tell you why."

"And as long as you and Lady Bonnet maintain this stance, you're going to have a fucking difficult time finding the staff to fill this place." Lucius waved a hand around, and Stede pulled a face. It had only been 24 hours, and yet it was already clear that Lucius and Buttons would not been enough to maintain the house. Buttons, because trying to hold back the tide would be easier that trying to get the man to work inside, and Lucius, because the man was allergic to manual labour. 

"We do need new staff." Stede muttered, feeling the enormity of the task in his chest. In another world, Stede was self-aware enough that he knew that he would flounder in life. His general disposition was one of an easy life, flittering around beautiful things and chasing dreams. Life had made Stede...hard. He loved his family, his unusual relationship with Mary and Doug, and adored his children. He knew that his natural gentleness had allowed him to retain his humanity after his wedding day. That, and Mary. 

But he also wasn't blind. He knew that his family's money and power was built on blood. And he had to bear the burden of that. Stede didn't tolerate fools, nor did he tolerate liars. 

And the previous staff had made him appear both. 

Stede let out a deep breath and tapped at his desk with his nails. Lucius looked at him and nibbled at his lips. "Did...you at least give then a reference?"He asked gently. Stede looked at him sharply.

"Of course!" He exclaimed. "I'm not that heartless."

"Of course." Lucius said, somewhat mockingly. But he at least felt a bit better. Having the entire staff fired had been such an exhausting event, Lucius had spent the entire previous day shut up in the nursery with the children, hoping to lessen the blow to the kids as the staff packed up and left. 

The two men sat in silence. Stede thought about the house, the lack of staff, and Alma's face as she screamed at them. He hated being the source of her unhappiness, and at the same time, knew he would rather have her hatred then have her go through what he did. Lucius mentally bemoaned at the entrance work that had landed on his shoulders. They'd already suffered through his cooking, even he didn't want to know what else he would fuck up!

"Lucius, I know that it's a long shot," Stede said slowly, staring out of the window at the dark garden. "But do you think you could put an ad into the broadsheets? Asking for new staff?"

Lucius started at him, eyebrows raised. "That is a long shot." He said. "You want to try and find enough staff to fill this house in one go?"

Stede looked at him and gave him a weak smile. "Worth a go, isn't it?"

Lucius didn't do anything. He set down his drink and, with a shaky smile, gave Stede 2 weak thumbs up. Then he grabbed a sheet of paper and started drafting an ad, with input from Stede. 

...

"Please tell me Lucius isn't cooking breakfast again." Doug said lowly as he, Mary and Stede made their way downstairs. 

"No, Buttons has offered to cook." Stede said.

"Thank god." Mary breathed. "We might actually get kedgeree."

Buttons was a somewhat decent cook, the household was finding. In the 2 weeks since that ad had been placed in the papers, everyone had tried their hand at cooking meals in the household. Buttons and Doug had been the best cooks, if inexperienced and somewhat simplistic. Mary and Lucius were bad, if palatable only for the calories. And Stede had been banned from the kitchen after he had burnt milk. 

They all traipsed into the dining room, the children already sat at the table with their requisite glasses of milk and a bowl of porridge each. Louis smiled at his mother and turned his face up for a kiss on the forehead, whilst Alma glared at all of them and shook off Mary's hand on her shoulder. Mary's face fell, and Stede took her hand and squeezed it as they sat down. In any other circumstances, Doug, as the estates art tutor, would never be allowed to sit with them. But, within the people in the room, everyone knew the situation. Doug was just as much a parent as Stede and Mary, and he would be treated as such. 

There was kedgeree, which Mary concealed an audible moan at, and everyone, after pouring out their teas, coffees and fresh juice, went to the sideboard and filled their plates. Buttons was a somewhat transient presence within the household, so his cooking was seen as manna from heaven, and just as rare. Everyone in the household had lost weight, even in 2 weeks, and so every day their ad went unanswered was a day that Stede, Mary and Doug worried about the children. 

Lucius walked into the room with the morning's mail and handed it to Stede. He gathered his own breakfast and sat down by the children, going over the days lessons with them. Stede appreciated this. Lucius had been such an uncertain hire, and he'd proven to be such a good tutor. Never blindsiding the children, never bearing down on them and targeting them. Stede's children actually liked their lessons, which was such a difference to Stede's own schooling that, occasionally, Stede felt jealous. 

Stede sifted through the mail, eating slowly. The kedgeree was a bit heavy on the smoked fish, and the rice was slightly firm, but otherwise, it was delicious. There wasn't much mail, a letter from Mary's parents that he passed to her with a grimace, some business letters from various investments the Bonnet estate was involved in, and, tucked into the bottom, a small envelope with slightly grubby paper. Stede frowned, setting down the mail and turned the envelope slowly, opening it and pulling out the single sheet of paper. He opened it, finding the penmanship amateur but somehow charming, and read.

Lord Bonnet, 

We are writing to enquire as to the advertisement put into the paper regarding employment at your household. I represent an household of competent staff, recently needing new employment due to our previous household following the Old Ones into the Void. Many of our household hold experience in different positions, and so are willing to be employed in alternative positions as your household sees fit. There are 11 of us, and whilst we might not be able to provide a proper reference, we can assure you that we are all willing to travel to Dorset for gainful employment within your house.

If this suits you, please reply to Israel Hands, 17 Underwood Street, London. Individual information accepted upon request. 

Best Regards

Israel Hands.

Stede raised his eyebrows. The letter was brusque, short and got to the point. There was no flowery language, no bowing and scraping, and Stede could see that, between the lines, this Mr Hands was somewhat desperate for Stede to write back, saying yes. 

Stede rather liked him. And he hadn't even met the man.

"Mary." He said and turned to his wife. She looked up, enquiring. He handed her the letter and watched her read it. As she read each word, her eyebrows scrunched up closer and closer, until she got to the signature and looked up at Stede in worry.

"Are you considering it?" She asked slowly. Doug took the letter and read it himself. 

"It's the first offer we've had." Stede said, shrugging. "In fact, I suspect it might be the only offer we get."

"A full household?" Lucius said, wandering over and reading the letter over Doug's shoulder. 

"That's what he's suggesting. We might be able to get out of this clear." Stede said, deliberately keeping his voice light. He stirred his tea slowly, watching as Mary, Doug and Lucius all exchanged glances. 

"You're being...awfully optimistic about this." Doug said slowly.

"Indeed. I'm not sure, Stede. The way this man is writing seems too...brusque." Mary said, still looking concerned. "It doesn't sound like he's ever had to answer to another person in his life."

"I know. That's what I like." Stede beamed. 

"He probably only wants access to the family wealth. We all know the Bonnet name is a powerful one." Mary was bold, saying something like that out loud. Doug and Lucius looked at her in shock, and Mary didn't shrink back. 

"You saw the address. The Bonnet name is a powerful one, true, but he would have access to even more powerful families if he stayed in London." Stede pointed out.

"And that's another thing. Why does an entire household need to leave London to come to Dorset? There's nothing here!" Mary waved her hand around. 

"Mary, the house is so dusty everyone is sneezing. You're wearing a night robe because you can't do up your corset and Doug wasn't there. And we're all loosing weight because no one in this house can cook decently!" Stede cried out, speaking louder "This house needs staff, and somehow, despite the impossibility of yet, we have someone writing offering just that! I am not oblivious to the tricky nature of it, but for gods sake, this house is going to crumble in a month of we don't do something!"

The air reverberated when Stede had finished. The children were staring wide eyed at their father, and Doug and Mary were alternatively glancing at him and each other. No one knew what to say, and Stede wondered if he had perhaps he'd poisoned the possibility of the letter.

"You should trust him, Ma'am." A voice said being Stede, and everyone jumped. Stede turned to see Buttons staring at the door, watching them. This wasn't the first time he'd managed to scare the occupants of the household. The man had a gift for silent wandering, and many a time Stede had been reading, only to turn his head and get the shock of his life as he saw Buttons leaning over his shoulder, reading along with him. The man was a genius at horticulture, and a superb fisherman. Stede had always suspected that the man would much rather spend his time at sea, but, given his famous hatred of the British Navy, there was very little monetary value from a life at sea anymore. Living at an estate that abutted the sea seemed to be enough for him. 

"Mr Buttons?" Mary asked. She found she rather liked Buttons, and, whilst never asked, his advice was generally as accurate and sound as any soothsayer. She'd once gone to him when pregnant with Louis, terrified of giving birth to a boy. He'd reassured her, in his no-nonscense way and thick accent, that her baby boy wouldn't suffer the trials and troubles of his father, and that she only needed to be patient. Her patience regarding that front was running out, but in all other matters, he'd been completely correct. 

He's been the one to suggest placing yellow carnations about the house whenever the Mary's or Stede's parents visited, knowing both their meaning, and that the visit would shorten due to Mrs Allamby being allergic. Nothing shortened tedious tea-time conversation than one's mother sneezing her head off. 

"'Tis a genuine request, M'Lady." Buttons said, coming over and peering at the letter. "They're needed here."

"But we don't know anything about them." Doug said, eyeing Buttons. Buttons shrugged. 

"They have what you need." He said, and then, without a beat, glided out of the room. Everyone looked at him with open mouths. 

"The Sage has spoken." Lucius tried to joke, but couldn't quite get the shakiness out of his voice. Stede looked at Mary, who was still staring after Buttons.

"Mary?" He asked gently. Mary closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and then handed the letter back to Stede. 

"Write back Stede. Buttons is right. We need a household again."

"Does that mean new people are coming?" Louis piped up, sounding cautiously optimistic. Beside him, Alma stabbed viciously at her fish, but Stede could see that she too was listening. 

"Maybe, darling." Stede said, looking at the signature. "We'll write back, and see what happens from there."

One Month Later

Izzy never wanted to make a journey like that again. His arse was completely numb, and somehow, he'd not managed to catch a wink of sleep for at least 1 full day. Even though they'd outfitted their large wagon with as comfortable furnishings as possible, they were still all crammed cheek by jowl. Eleven people, plus luggage, trundling their way to Dorset. 

They'd been lucky that Ed had suggested that they rent out their house. That bit of extra income had afforded them this...palace...on wheels, as well as 2 nags that had, somehow, blossomed into large, healthy horses under Fang's tender care. They'd left London as discreetly as possible, packing during the day and moving everything into the wagon at night. The evening they'd left, Roach had loaded sandwiches and flasks of freshly squeezed juice into the front, and everyone had climbed in the back. Ivan had volunteered to drive during the first couple of hours, with Ed sitting beside him as lookout. 

Leaving had felt...solemn. They'd all come to London, or been born there, and had spent a long time planning, working, and living together. And despite everything, despite the jovial speech given by Ed the night before about regrouping and coming back bigger and better, it felt like they were surrendering by leaving. 

They'd traveled all day, Izzy sitting in the back going over their correspondence with the Bonnet estate. To his and Ed's relief, Lord Stede Bonnet had actually replied to there letter, and Izzy had promptly sent him their profiles. After a few days, the letter had come back, asking why their household didn't have any maids. Izzy had panicked, not realising that a lack of women would be a dealbreaker. Unlike the rest of the crew, he and Ed had absolutely no service experience. At some point, every person in the Crew had been in service during in their lives. So when Izzy had asked, Oluwande had gone around, and suggested that, as well as footmen, some of the men would act as maids and do some of the work. It was completely unconventional, and Izzy had worried, upon sending the letter with their suggestion, that they had completely blown their opportunity. 

Roach, literally wanting to sweeten the deal, had sent, along with the letter, a tin of orange biscuits. The letter that had come back was hastily written. It had accepted their offer, and had also offered, in lew of many of the incoming servants taking on dual roles, dual salaries. Izzy's eyes had nearly bulged out of his head when he saw the suggested offer for each person. 

"Nice." Ed had said, reading over Izzy's shoulder at the kitchen table. 

"Have they gone mad?" Izzy had hissed, and Ed had shrugged. 

"Maybe they have more money than sense. They're certainly desperate enough." 

All in all, it had been remarkably easy to organise everything. They were to arrive on the 17th, and, as the wagon trundled on, Izzy felt...conflicted. Setting the letters into their protective leather folder, he looked at the front. Ed was driving now, and Izzy carefully climbed over everyone, who had twisted themselves between the luggage and each other to try and sleep. He climbed out to the front and sat down on the bench. 

"Hey, Iz." Ed whispered, staring out in front of the horses. Izzy looked at him as he drew a blanket around his shoulders. Ed hair was twisted into a bun and tucked under his wide, floppy brimmed hat. He was smoking his long pipe, and every so often, his fingerless leather gloves creaked as he twitched his fingers. Izzy could see a glint of pearls at his throat, which he knew Ed wore whenever he felt he needed luck. Izzy suspected that they were from his mother. 

"Eddie." Izzy rasped. 

They sat in silence, the wagon trundling on. Their horses, Queen Anne on the right, and Revenge on the left, trotted happily, their hour break coming up soon, where Fang would pamper them like they were royal pets. Funny to think that, 3 weeks ago, Revenge could barely stand, and Queen Anne tried to bite anyone who came near. 

Fang really had the magic touch when it came to animals. Although the estate apparently didn't have horses, Lord Bonnet had been kind enough to house the horses in the empty stables. Fang was looking forward to it. 

"You still sure about this?" Izzy asked. His fingers were twitching, desperate for something to do. In moments like this, carving was a small relief, but his tools and wood were packed away. Ed, sensing the twitching, wordlessly handing the reins to Izzy. Izzy settled, feeling more settled, as Ed leaned back, taking in a deep pull from his pipe and then blowing out smoke rings. He looked at Izzy under the rim of his hat, blinking slowly.

"As sure as I ever am." He finally said. He watched as Izzy drove, nibbling his lip. Without thinking, he reached up and gently worried his pearls, hoping that his mother's luck would rub off on his again. So far, he'd been lucky enough. Finding Izzy, finding the Crew. Managing to live under cover this long, even if their plans usually went to pieces. He really hoped that this would be the welcome respite that they needed. 

He hoped it would be enough for Izzy to relax. Man had been wound tighter that a spindle for years. Part of the reason they weren't fucking at the moment. Ed still loved the little bastard, but Fuck! Trying to stop the sun from rising might be easier than shagging Izzy these past few months. 

Ed missed him. 

"You nervous?" He asked. Izzy shrugged one shoulder and focused ahead. 

"Never been in service. Don't really know what to expect. And you guys made me the butler?" He looked at Ed, slightly incredulous. "I run illegal, terroristic gangs, not a fancy fucking household!"

"Practically the same thing." Ed said blithely, waving a hand. He grinned when he saw Izzy's face scrunch up. 

"This was your fucking idea, wasn't it?" He asked. When Ed simply grinned at him, Izzy growled and clenched his teeth. Feeling the tension in the line, Revenge tossed her head, and Izzy took the opportunity to soothe her and settle her down. 

They switched out drivers as the day wore on, and, and the sun started to set, they passed through the quiet village abutting the estate. People moved out of the way, looking at them with a mix of suspicion and amazement. Peeking out of the cloth side of the wagon (Wee John and Fang were driving the last leg to the main house), Izzy wondered if they were the first new people the village had seen. On the other side, Izzy saw Ed stick his full head out of the side, and take a very deep breath. 

Izzy could smell it too. Through the usual funk of a village and working space, the fresh, salty smell of the ocean. 

The house came up on the horizon, and Izzy felt something swoop in his stomach. The house itself was large, but not the largest Izzy had seen. The house that had belonged to the Lord of his childhood was obscene. This was...doable. As they passed through the neatly clipped hedges lining the road to the main door, Izzy saw a head pop out. The wild, staring eyes of the man made Izzy jolt slightly, before a large smile crossed the mysterious man's face.

"A good day!" He crowed, revealing a thick Scottish accent. Izzy pulled his face back, frowning. 

Already things were strange, and they hadn't even fucking arrived yet. 

Izzy was still musing on this when the wagon finally pulled in to the house. As everyone exited, stretching and staring, the door opened and Izzy saw the household come out. Clearly the Lord and Lady, based on their clothing. But a non-descriptive man followed them and stood by the Lady closely, and Izzy would swear that he briefly touched the Lady's lower back. Beside the Lord, a tall, thin man in a smart uniform. His had huge sideburns, and a raised eyebrow as the Crew finished stretching and crowded behind Ed and Izzy. 

"Lord Bonnet?" Izzy asked. The Lord, a soft looking man with a whirl of blonde hair and a blank expression on his face, nodded. He stepped forward, and Izzy could see both anxiety and satisfaction in his brown eyes. Izzy reached out and shook his hand briefly. Lord Bonnet looked surprise, and Izzy, having no previous experience, realised that he had been supposed to bow. "I'm Israel Hands."

"Ah, Mr Hands. You made good time." Lord Bonnet said, sounding pleased. Izzy was surprised to notice that his accent was the same as Ed's. 

"Good roads." Izzy shrugged. He gestured behind him. "This is the crew."

"Yes, thank you very much." Lady Bonnet said, smiling at them all with obvious relief. "We've been much needed."

Izzy could see that. Their clothing, although fine, was rumpled and badly wearing. Clearly, the gardener and the other man were the only servants left.

"My secretary, Lucius, will show you to the servants quarters." Lord Bonnet turned to Lucius, and nodded to him. Lucius pursed his lips, but then heaved a deep sigh and stepped forward. Lord and Lady Bonnet moved to walk into the house, before Lord Bonnet turned and stared. Not at Izzy or the crew disembarking behind him though.

At Ed.

Izzy watched with a racing heart as Ed, seemingly transfixed, stepped forward and raised his hand. Lady Bonnet and the other man went into the house, but Lord Bonnet, as transfixed as Ed, reached out. He took Ed's hand in both of his and, entranced by Ed's huge eyes, squeezed it. 

"I'm Stede." He said softly. Izzy went cold. 

"Ed." Ed choked out, and didn't blink.

Izzy realised, with a feeling like all the blood was exiting his body, that this placement might be more tricky than he had preciously thought. Not just for their mission, not just because of their past. 

Because he'd never seen such an instant connection from Ed in his life. Not since himself, so many years ago. And he wondered, as Ed and Lord Bonnet existed in their own little world, if perhaps this was going to be the end of his partnership, in all matters, with Ed. 

Chapter Text

3 Weeks Later

Ed had never been a morning man. Not in the history of his entire life had he been able to willingly embrace rising with the sun. His mother had had a devil of a time dragging her growing son out of his bed, yanking limbs off of the bed posts and covers as she tried to pull him towards the awaiting tub. As an adult, he'd done everything possible in his life to make sure that, in whatever situation he was in, someone else would deal with the morning rush. Fuck knows that Ed, given any opportunity, would sleep the morning away if he could. 

Now though?

Ed was excited to start the day. Excited to be working, which was a marvel in and of itself. He'd never really worked for a wage before, never really had to. He knew that he'd only come out here to regroup the Crew, help them settle themselves away from the tinderbox that was London, and, somehow, try and calm Izzy the fuck down. But here? He was...having fun.

There was a persistent cockerel who announced the servants wake up time, that Ed, during that first week, had nearly begged Fang to smother. Now, when he decided to sound off the morning chorus, Ed jumped out of bed and quickly made his way to the basin of water sitting under the window. In the room next to his, he could hear Oluwande groan himself away, pushing his way out of the tangle that him, Jim and Archie usually ended up in. 

They'd all played a quick game of cards when the bedroom situation came up, and the Crew, Ed and Izzy had decided to give the throuple the biggest room. They'd also helped, after realising that the one single bed was completely inadequate, drag Jim and Archie's bed's from the female section into Oluwande's room and roped them all together. 

It had been...an adventure. As one point, Buttons had come upon them as they crossed the threshold into the male servants quarters, all of them shushing each other and doing everything in their power to silence the drag of the beds. They all stopped, frozen, staring at the man. Finally, he had simply nodded, said "Carry on." and walked into his room, closing the door firmly. The Crew had finished putting the beds together, and so far, there hadn't been any complaints. 

He quickly washed himself, knowing that someone (no one would say who) would change his water when he came back that night, and then went to his wardrobe and got out his suit. He found that wearing the uniform didn't chafe at him as much as he thought. Whilst he missed being able to wear what he wanted (except when he got days off), dressing the same everyday didn't bother him. He'd long ago stopped paying through the nose to follow fashion himself, choosing practicality and his own personal flair when he'd gone underground.

But, as he adjusted his necktie and smoothed the sleeves down his jacket, didn't mean he'd totally abandoned fashion.

He quickly made his way to the servants dining room, slotting in beside Wee John and the boy Lucius and helping himself to bacon, toast and a hearty mug of coffee. Lucius eyed him, suspicious and wary of the new people still, but allowed him to have his breakfast. 

Roach was once again a genius with the food, and Ed was munching happily when Izzy finally entered. His own uniform was pitch black, not an ounce of white on it, and he smoothed down his waistcoat before he accepted a hastily put together sandwich from Frenchie and a strong mug of coffee from Black Pete.

"All good?" He asked. Ed watched as everyone nodded, catching each others eyes and assessing without speaking. Beside him, he could feel Lucius twitch uncomftabley, and he was about to ask what the problem was before, across the table, he felt Black Pete reach out his foot and nudge Lucius'. To Ed's complete surprise, he saw a blush rise from beneath Lucius' collar, and Ed had to fight to conceal a smirk. 'Well, well, well. What's this little dainty thing?' He thought. 

"Yeah." Jim said. When coming up with positions for the household, everyone, even Oluwande, had been surprised when Jim had pounced on the position of Governess/Nanny. When asked why, Jim had shrugged and said that they'd spent part of their early life growing up as companions to noble children (when not being taught knife-throwing by their grandmother), and had seen and experienced first hand the duties of a Governess. And, in particular, what NOT to do. 

Jim had thin scars on the knuckles of their hands, and wouldn't say where they had come from. Ed suspected that this was the result of wilful disobedience in the face of a an abusive adult and a very thin cane. 

Jim as a Governess had been...somewhat of a difficult pill for the Lady Bonnet to swallow. Just before they left London, Jim had clipped their hair short, and, upon receiving their dress uniform, had substituted the usual petticoats for trousers, which were revealed whenever Jim swished their way up the stairs. 

Louis had been a bit confused. Alma, on the other hand, had deemed Jim to be the most amazing person she'd ever seen. 

"The kids are bright, alright? And eager to learn."

"A credit to you." Oluwande said, putting a hand on their shoulder. Jim smiled into their teacup and nudged him back. 

"It's great, but," Jim looked up, their expression becoming serious. Beside him, Lucius stiffened, and Ed looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "The kids are...really isolated."

"It's what the master and mistress want." Lucius said extremely quickly. Everyone stopped eating to look at him with raised eyebrows. Lucius himself was sweating slightly, but he fixed his face into a hard expression and glared at everyone. "Those are the rules, and if you cannot follow them, then you don't need to be here."

"Mr Spriggs, surely-" Archie started to say, but Lucius continued.

"It's very important that the children remain in the household. They're not allowed to the village!"

Lucius' yell rang through the kitchen. As everyone stared at him, Izzy set down his mug. 

"Why?" He asked. Lucius gaped at him. 

"What?"

"Why do the children need to stay in the house?"

There was an incredibly tense silence. Finally, Lucius narrowed his eyes and got up from the table, clenching his hands. 

"I don't know." He finally ground out. "I don't know why. But what I do know is that the Master and Mistress deem this to be of the utmost importance, and that, if you choose to disobey, it'll be your job." With that, he turned and stalked out of the room. 

The silence that was left behind was incredibly uncomfortable. Everyone avoided each other's eyes, and busied themselves with eating. Ed caught Izzy's eyes and watched as Izzy mentally filed away that excuse. Ed knew Izzy was not one to let this go, and that it was going to niggle at the man until he needed to find out the truth. 

"So, business." Izzy finally said to the rest of the crew. "Olu, Frenchie, Ivan, how are you doing with the additional cleaning duties?"

"Fine, Izzy." Frenchie said. "Not that complicated, once you really get going."

"Good dusters." Ivan nodded. It had been such a relief when, upon being faced with cleaning the great house, not only were others capable of pitching in without the Master and Mistress collapsing with the oddness of it, the materials supplied were of the best quality. The new crew were perfectly capable of cleaning the household every other day without breaking their back doing so.

"Then that's your morning duty. Frenchie, you've got a tutoring lesson after lunch, then you can help Roach in the kitchen. Wee John, Lord Bonnet has a consultation at 3, be ready in his private chambers. Fang, Buttons has requested that you meet with I'm to coordinate exercising the horses on the grounds. Archie, better get to Lady Bonnet's chamber, she's about to get up." Izzy rattled off their duties, and everyone scarfed down the rest of their food and got up. Ed moved to Izzy and rested a hand on his shoulder. 

"You doing ok?" He asked softly. 

"Doing fine. Just a bit of an adjustment." Izzy said, not looking at Ed as he studied his little notebook. It was where he recorded the duties of the day, little notes about the household to himself, and reminders about the positions of the Crew. 

"Iz-"

"Ed." Izzy finally looked up at him. "I'm fine. Never been in service, but otherwise I think I'm adapting fine."

"Just want to make sure." Ed said, feeling slightly hurt. He never wanted to crowd Izzy, but Izzy's adaption to butler of a noble house was so far out of his sphere of experience that Ed had felt nervous. 

Maybe he didn't need to be nervous. 

"Ed, thanks." Izzy tried to soften his voice, but Ed could hear his foot tapping on the stone floor, and knew that Izzy was impatient to get about his duties. "But you don't need to ask every morning. If I seem like I might start to struggle, I'll fucking come to you."

Ed fixed a small smile on his face and nodded, turning and walking up the stairs. But he knew that Izzy would never come to him with his problems. Something was changing within their relationship, and it had started when they entered the household. 

And Ed had no idea how to stop it.

As he walked to Lord Bonnet's room, he could feel his spirits lifted. Even after everything, he found that he looked forward to these times with Lord Bonnet. He knocked on the door and opened it, peeking his head in.

"Lord Bonnet?" He asked softly. "Time to get up."

He entered the room, and something swooped in his stomach as he saw Lord Bonnet (Stede), blink himself gently awake and sit up. His fly-away hair was all over the place, and as he stood up and stretched, his nightshirt climbed up his thighs. Ed tore his eyes away and opened the curtains, seeing that it was going to be a lovely day. 

"Morning, Ed." Stede said, rubbing his eyes. They'd tried using 'Mr Teach' when Ed first started attending to Stede, but Ed had twitched so violently at that, Stede had been compelled to ask whether Ed preferred answering to anything else. And, although his full name was Edward, nothing seemed more perfect than hearing Stede call him Ed. 

"Breakfast should be done in half an hour. If you want to quickly get washed, I can pick out your clothing for the day."

"Oh, please, Ed." Stede beamed at him and walked to the basin. Ed grinned at his back and walked to the wardrobe, opening the door and stepping into paradise. 

When he said to himself that he'd abandoned fashion, he hadn't factored on meeting Stede Bonnet. The man himself was a veritable peacock, and, despite the fashion of the time preferring understated colours, used his own isolation to wear the most outrageous shades known to man.

The first time Stede had shown Ed his wardrobe, the man had been stunned silent. He had walked into the jewel toned room slowly, quiet as a supplicant, and reached out to gently touch the sleeve of an emerald green jacket. Stede had rocked on his heels in delight. 

"Rather fabulous, isn't it?" He had asked, following in closely behind Ed.

"It's magnificent. All these belong to you?" Ed had whispered, turning his head quickly so as to catch everything. 

"'Fraid so, I'm a bit of a clothes horse." Stede shrugged, reaching out and plucking a stray thread off of a golden jacket. Ed's eyes had met Stede's and something had passed between them. An understanding, a shared passion. Ed may be Stede's valet, but in this room, they were both equal in their adoration. 

This morning, as Ed gently ran his hands along the silk and smooth wool of the jackets, he allowed himself a grin. This room was perhaps his favourite room, and he allowed himself a secret giggle as the morning light made the room light up like stained glass. Hearing Stede finishing up, he selected a cream pair of trousers, and then, in reference to the spring morning, selected a jacket and waistcoat of light green. The silk felt like water in his hand, and he quickly gathered up stockings, a shirt and necktie, and he exited the wardrobe to see Stede sitting on his bed, watching him in anticipation.

Ed displayed the suit in the morning light, and Stede clapped in delight. "Beautiful as always, Ed."

"Thank you, my Lord." Ed said, willing his blush not to appear. "It's going to be a lovely day." Ed added as Stede stood. Stede looked at Ed, as his new valet, whose unfashionable long hair was gliding silver in the light, and his wide brown eyes fixed so heavily on him, and he felt nothing but happiness. 

Yes. It was going to be a lovely day!

Izzy stretched and felt his back crack as he felt the house settle into the evening. Supper had been served, eaten and washed up, the family had been undressed and settled into bed, and Izzy was taking the opportunity to go about his nightly routine, which he'd started 2 nights after getting to the house in a need to do something to settle his own mind. 

He snuck into the library, grabbed a book and read until he'd either finished the book or he got tired enough to go to bed. 

Izzy walked to where he'd put his book away, took it out and gently slipped the strip of cloth he'd been using as a bookmark, walking back to a chair and settling down. He would have loved to have had a cup of coffee at his elbow, but needs must. 

He'd barely got a chapter in when he heard the door creak open. Izzy froze, watching as Lord Bonnet popped his head in, looking around furtively. His eyes narrowed when he saw Izzy sitting, a single candle illuminating him. 

"Mr Hands." Stede said cautiously, walking in and closing the door behind him.

"My Lord." Izzy drawled, narrowing his eyes. Relations between Izzy and Stede were...tense. They were polite, on the face of things. Izzy might not have been in service before, but he knew how to act. To a point. Izzy didn't suffer fools, and he thought Bonnet to be the biggest idiot he'd ever met.

Stede, for his part, thought Izzy to be frightfully insolent and rude, and went out of his way to avoid talking to him, despite the position Izzy was in. 

Now though? Both men were in the library, and, despite the hour, it was clear that they were both seeking to do the same thing. Stede eyed Izzy, then saw the book in his hand, and let out a deep sigh. 

"Carry on, Mr Hands." He said tiredly, walking into the room. He'd pulled on his trousers but was still wearing his nightshirt, his incredibly wild hair showing that he'd spent the time tossing and turning instead of sleeping. Izzy didn't say anything, watching as Lord Bonnet lit a second candle, wandering along the shelves until he saw a book that he wanted to read. He pulled it down and went to sit in the chair opposite Izzy, who continued to stare at him. 

Stede did everything in his power to ignore Izzy, who hadn't said a word yet. He cracked open the book and was about to read when he heard Izzy say "This normal for you, then?"

Stede's head shot up. He gaped at Izzy, who was watching him with narrowed eyes and a peculiar twist to his mouth. "What?" he gasped out. He couldn't believe that his butler would be so blatant in his questioning. 

"Reading at night. Something you do regularly? Only, if it is," Izzy said, "you might want to tell Ed so he know to lay out some night trousers for you. Maybe some stockings as well."

"I...you...how dare you speak to me like this!" Stede sputtered, feeling both anger and a strange kind of awe fill his chest. No one had ever spoken to him like that. Maybe except Mary, but this was a servant!

Izzy shrugged, ideally tapping the outside of the book in his hand with his finger. He faintly realised that he was still wearing his glove over his right hand, and was thankful. He didn't want to deal with any fucking questions about the massive scar in the back, and it helped against the chilly sea breeze that swept through the house at night. 

"I'm practical. And this house can get fucking freezing. The last thing that you want to happen is frostbite."

Stede puffed himself up, and then, realising that Izzy was giving sound advice, allowed himself to deflate. "Thank you, Mr Hands. That sounds like it would be very helpful."

Izzy nodded and started to read, but watched Stede out of the corner of his eye. The man was fidgeting with the book, trying to concentrate but unable to. Every so often, he'd fix Izzy with a look that clearly said that he was working his way up to something, and was trying to find the courage. Finally, after watching Stede open his mouth and then close it for the 6th time, Izzy finally snapped. 

"Do you want to say something to me, my Lord?" Izzy asked. Stede jumped, and then met Izzy's eyes. 

"You...I've never heard a servant speak like you before."

"I don't believe in giving respect just because you were born in a big fucking mansion, my Lord." Izzy said snidely. 

"Indeed. And yet, that's the way servitude works." Stede said slowly, and Izzy felt his temper flair at Stede's patronising tone. 

"That's not how I work. You earn my respect, I don't give it for fucking free."

Stede tilted his head, watching Izzy. Izzy wondered what he was thinking, when, remarkably, Stede gave a small grin. "I accept that. I'll just have to earn that respect, then."

Izzy blinked, feeling like he'd been knocked around the head. This...little Lord...was...trying to impress Izzy?!

The fuck kind of house was this?

"You want to earn my respect? Why?"

Stede shrugged, keeping Izzy's gaze. "You give the impression of a man whose respect is hard given, but very valuable. Given what happened with the last staff, that kind of loyalty is badly needed."

Izzy felt like he'd been stripped. Only Ed had seen through Izzy so thoroughly, had seen the little secrets that made up his soul, and had done it so quickly. And, instead of being freaked out by Izzy's devotion, his way of behaving, indeed, his very way of living, this Lord thought to earn it? Was impressed by it? 

Wanted to be a part of it?

Izzy let out a deep breath. Stede Bonnet hadn't done anything impressive yet. Indeed, Izzy had been planning to test him the next time they were alone, maybe needle the man about his wife obviously sleeping with, and indeed, having a full on relationship with the art tutor. But he realised that, in the moment, Stede was cautiously trying to extend some kind of olive branch. 

Izzy wasn't so small of character not to accept. 

Stede opened his mouth, about to sat something, when he looked over Izzy's shoulder and his expression changed. He set down the book and sat up, walking to the window and peering around the curtain. Izzy turned, following his gaze, and felt something hollow settle in his stomach when he saw the silvery glint of Ed's hair in the dark. He got up and stood beside Stede, watching as Ed crept cautiously out of the house and walked down the path to when the cliffs were.

"He does this, every other night." Stede whispered, and Izzy tried not to jolt. "Just walks to the cliffs edge and stands there, looking at the sea."

"You followed him?" Izzy asked softly, his eyes never leaving Ed's back. His hair was moving softly in the breeze, and, when he clearly felt that he was far enough away from the house, he strode into the darkness. 

"Badly." Stede gave Izzy a wry smile. "But he doesn't do anything. Just stands there."

Izzy's eyes followed Ed, and his chest felt hollowed out. Ed was pulling away, he could feel it. More secrets, more alone time with Stede, and fewer times when he would come and talk with Izzy, and Izzy was starting to acknowledge, with his gut churning, that Ed was leaving his life. 

Izzy didn't want to acknowledge his heart breaking, but it was becoming a real thing. 

"'Tis odd, though." Stede continued, not noticing Izzy's internal crisis. "How regularly he does this. A little bit strange."

Izzy latched on to this last statement. Granted, he'd never been part of service before, but even he could recognise that the Bonnet household was...unusual. He thought back to yesterday, when, during a break, he had been in the kitchen with Roach, Wee John, Archie and Oluwande, all of them assisting in dinner prep. 

"I'm just saying," Archie had said, valiantly mincing several heads of garlic with a knife, Oluwande by her side, patiently peeling them, "a birthday like that would normally be a huge celebration."

"She's not wrong." Wee John had muttered. He was exempt from food prep, and was delicately putting tiny stitches into a new, sturdy pair of trousers for Louis. "She officially becomes a woman, you'd think the household would be doing something big."

"Haven't even got a dinner list from the mistress." Roach had said, hacking up a chicken with a huge cleaver and showing every sign of delight. 

"We don't know how this household really works. We've only been here for a month, for all we know, they don't celebrate birthdays." Izzy was peeling and chopping vegetables, a cup of tea gently cooling at his elbow. He'd just gone over the weekly budget with Lady Bonnet, with Doug Jenkins painting quietly in the corner of the room. It had taken Izzy everything in his power to not snidely invite Doug to join them, considering he was almost an equal to Lord and Lady Bonnet. 

Izzy couldn't even dislike him. The man was so sensible, with such an excellent temperament, that it was impossible not to become his friend. Already, Izzy had a standing Sunday night brandy meeting with him, where they talked about everything but the obvious secret. 

"But 13?" Archie had cried out, looking around. "It's a huge birthday! And they're not doing anything for it!"

"Again, maybe they don't want to." Izzy had muttered, but even he had sounded sceptical. He remembered the birthday celebrations when the current monarch had turned 13. Even the Old Ones had allowed it. 

"Not what Alma thinks." Archie had whispered, looking confident. "She talks about it all the time. Apparently her 12th was a huge affair. Noble families came from all over the county, even as far as London. Kids everywhere, a huge cake. The works!"

"And they don't want to do anything for her 13th? The one where she officially becomes a Lady?" Wee John put his work down and looked at Archie, frowning. 

"Fuck all." Archie nodded vigorously.

Izzy turned to look at Roach, who was now portioning out the chicken for the stew tonight. The man was frowning. "Think you can talk to Lady Bonnet about it?"

Roach had nodded. "I'll try and bring it up subtly. But you know," he had added, looking at everyone, "even aside from the birthday thing, this house of...odd."

Oluwande had nodded. "It's like the family is walking on glass. There's a lot of tension there."

"Getting tenser by the day." Izzy had muttered.

"Like they're waiting for something to happen." Oluwande had said, something uncomfortable twisting his mouth. 

"Or something to drop on their heads." Roach had added. They all sat there with the sentence, feeling the weight of it. Roach was right, though.

Something was coming, and the family was slowly twisting themselves into knots with the anxiety. 

"Oh, Mary!" Lady Bonnet, Stede's mother, swept into the foyer, practically throwing her hat and coat at Jim, who'd been asked to put on a maids outfit for the afternoon with the promise of a large bonus by Mary. "Look at how...quaint...the new household is!"

Ed, who was concealed at the top of the stairs, watched as Mary did everything possible to conceal her annoyance and anger. Beside her, he could see Stede lay a hand on her lower back, and felt possesive anger swirl in his breast. 

"Calm down." He mutters to himself. Beside him, he saw Archie, in her capacity as Ladies Maid, caught his eye, and he nudged her shoulder. She nudged back, grinning. 

"Stede." Lord Bonnet, Edward, was a gruff older man. Ed watched as he slapped Stede on the shoulder, hard enough that Stede swayed. Mary, in turn, settled a hand on his arm. "Seems like sacking the servants hasn't affected your management."

"No, Father. Not at all." Stede said through visibly gritted teeth. Behind him, Izzy shuffled his feet, and Ed could see him squeezing his hands behind his back. Ed knew, from experience, that even if Stede was absolutely useless as a landowner (which he wasn't), Izzy kept the books so tidy and neat that he could have worked for a bank. One of the reasons cash allocation within the Crew was so fair and honest, Izzy kept everything in line. 

"And how are my precious darlings?" Lady Bonnet cooed, sweeping in and pinching Louis' cheek hard. Lucius, sharing a glance with Jim, settled a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. Louis winced, his cheek now bright red, but luckily his grandmother had moved on to Alma, who was better at concealing her discomfort. "And look at you, Alma! Like a little china doll!"

Alma gave her grandmother a brittle smile. Never mind that she had to be bribed into a pale blue silk dress, Jim and Lucius promising a hour of anatomy lessons. But she started still and allowed her grandmother to pet her like a prize poodle. When she was finished, she and Lord Bonnet Sr. swept into the afternoon parlour, and Stede and Mary caught Lucius and Jim's eyes. 

"Couple of hours, promise." Mary whispered to Jim. Stede settled a hand on both children's shoulders in commiseration. 

"You endure this, I let Fang give you both 3 hours of animal husbandry lessons. And yes, Alma," Stede whispered with a small smile when he saw his daughter opening her mouth, "you can wear trousers to do so."

Alma and Louis' eyes sparkled, and they straightened themselves and fixed wide, hard smiles on their faces. They flounced into the parlour, and Stede and Mary followed them, whilst Jim, with Oluwande following them, went to the kitchens to grab the tray of tiny cakes and finger sandwiches Mary had ordered from Roach. 

"How do they seem?" Black Pete asked as Jim entered, muttering under their breath as they did everything in their power not to grab the small cap on their head and stamp on it.

"First class cunts, to a penny." Oluwande said cheerfully. Black Pete snickered, shuffling to the side as Lucius sat down and, without a beat, rested his head on Pete's shoulder. 

"They always like that?" Frenchie asked. He offered to play during the visit, only for Stede to assure him, loudly and very quickly, that he wasn't needed. The Crew had wondered why Stede, normally quite a proud man, wondered why he should not take the opportunity to show off. It had been Lucius to tell them that the reason was twofold:

1) If Frenchie demonstrated how good he was, Lady Bonnet would NO DOUBT steal him, and

2) Lord Bonnet was an absolutely horrific racist. 

No playing in the parlour. Got it. 

"Have been for as long as I've been here." Lucius said, shrugging. 

Jim collected the trays, handing one to Oluwande. Archie, whom Stede had asked to be a maid along with Jim, had immediately backed out. She had turned out to be a brilliant Ladies Maid, attentive, with an eye for detail. She was slowly becoming Mary's confident, being both generous with her personality, and a genuinely good person. 

She was also the clumsiest person Mary had ever met. It was a joke within the Crew not to hand Archie anything delicate, because it would, inevitably, end up on the floor. 

The people in the kitchen watched as Jim and Oulwande made their way up the stairs. Jim looked like they were going to battle, and Oluwande had picked up the back of their dress to keep their legs free. Without thinking, the rest of the Crew got up (Roach put the gently bubbling pot on a cold hob) and followed them. The need for more information, especially in the current situation where real information was scarce, overran the normal sense to remain where they were. 

The crew remained at the top of the stairs, waiting, until Jim and Oluwande opened the door to the parlour with a knock and entered. As the door closed, the Crew, including Ed and Archie, crept up and either pressed their ears to the door at different levels, or tried to listen through the walls. Izzy, coming out of the study with some papers, gaped at the eavesdropping crowd before joining them, slipping below Ed and listening in at the door. Ed could smell the day's sweat and paper and ink from him, and, without initiating everything (and conscious of everyone around them), pressed himself close to Izzy. 

"...have such an unusual arrangement." They heard Lady Bonnet say, her voice shrill enough to strip the wallpaper. 

"We needed a staff, Mother." Stede said. "We didn't really have time to question each individually. Oh, thank you, Jim."

"Don't think you can avoid the question, boy." Lord Bonnet said gruffly. There was the tinkle of china, and Ed wondered if it was Bonnet or Jim/Oluwande was causing it. The man had the rosacea and slight unsteadiness of someone who was fond of drink, and Ed thought he could smell the alcohol from the night before on the man's breath. 

"We did what we had to do, Father. And since you don't live here-"

"I am still Lord Bonnet, boy!" The man roared, and Ed's heart clenched when he heard Louis whimper slightly. "This house still belongs to me!"

"Then what would your solution be, Edward?" He heard Mary say sharply. There was an uncomfortable silence, and Ed thought he could feel the tension in the room rising. He felt Izzy twitch under him, and he settled a hand on Izzy's shoulder to settle him.

"Are you excited for your 13th birthday, Alma?" Lady Bonnet said, trying to break the tension. 

"Oh, yeah." Alma said, somewhat subdued. Ed could imagine her kicking her legs slightly under her dress. "It's coming up."

"Yes it is." Lady Bonnet sounded sickly sweet. "Such an important day, not just for you, but for the family."

The fuck?

"Mother, are you enjoying the beginning of the summer weather?" Stede sounded slightly desperate. Lady Bonnet clearly ignored him.

"Oh, you'll finally fulfil the family contract! You must be very excited!" 

"Huh?" Alma said, clearly confused. Ed could practically taste the anxiety coming from Stede and Mary.

"Father, are you still shooting?" Stede tried again. He was still soundly ignored. 

"Important time for our family, Alma." Lord Bonnet said gruffly. "You'll be part of the family properly when you complete the Ceremony."

Ed jerked slightly as he felt the atmosphere within the room drop dramatically. He could smell the sweat and panic coming from Stede and Mary.

"What's the Ceremony?" Louis asked innocently, and Mary chocked lowly in her throat.

"Oh, it's a wonderful event!" Lady Bonnet said brightly. "Alma will do her due diligence for the family, and we will all benefit from it!"

"It's the most important thing a Bonnet can do." Lord Bonnet added. 

"Is it...will I have fun?" Alma asked cautiously. 

"So much fun! It's such an important part of becoming a Lady, and there'll be a big feast afterwards, and you'll get lost of presents, and the whole family will thank you!"

Ed heard the gentle slide of flesh against flesh, and he knew that Stede and Mary were gripping hands tightly.

"Mother, please..." Stede whispered. Ed could sense that Alma was getting more and more excited.

"And afterwards, I'll be a proper lady?"

"Oh yes!" Lady Bonnet gushed, setting her cup down without a thought (there was a tinkle, and then Ed heard Oluwande groans softly as it clearly tipped over). "You'll be a lady, and we can start looking for husbands for you!"

"SARAH!" Mary roared. 

The silence was deafening. Ed could sense the occupants in the room looking at Mary, and Ed felt her defiance. 

But he could also sense her fear. Her and Stede's.

They were terrified. 

Izzy turned and looked up at Ed, clearly confused. "The fuck was that?" He mouthed, and Ed could do nothing but shrug. Instead of finding answers, the Crew had simply discovered more secrets that the Bonnet family was hiding. Ed felt something creeping on his conscience, and wondered if by being here, he was making things worse. 

But he couldn't stand to feel Stede so terrified. 

Why did Alma turning 13 matter so much? What were Stede and Mary trying to hide her from? Was it part of the reason the kids weren't allowed in the village?

And what the ever-loving fuck was the Ceremony?

Chapter Text

2 Months Later

"Good evening, Mr Hands."

"Evening, Lord Bonnet."

This had become a strange ritual for them. Not every night, certainly. Izzy certainly didn't go into the library seeking Stede out, and Stede rather enjoyed sleeping, and was loathe to leave the state when he got into it. But on nights when both were awake and willing to talk, they went to the library. In the beginning, they didn't really converse. Izzy knew that he couldn't be trusted not to needle the man and, as he continued within the household, that he liked his job. 

And with Stede, it was about being frank. He felt like he could be honest with Izzy, as much as he was honest with the servants without revealing the family's secrets. Izzy needed him, and gave Stede the opportunity to snipe back. And Izzy seemed to enjoy that!

As much as Izzy revealed that he enjoyed anything. 

That night, Izzy was already settled in a chair. But he had pulled a board across his lap and was gently scratching out numbers in the household ledger. Stede concealed a smile as he picked up his book, left on the side table, and opened it at his last saved page. 

The sea breeze was welcome as it came through the open window. Lately, the summer sun had been beating down upon the household. Izzy, who'd dressed in black since he'd first come to London, was somewhat used to the heat, but everyone else was wilting. Jim especially was suffering, wearing both trousers and a skirt, and, that night, had commandeered the staff tub to sit in, full of cold water. 

No one had objected. They'd all seen how much they were suffering. And Archie and Oluwande had glared at anyone who'd tried to raise their voice. 

The evenings were cooler, though, and everyone in the household took the opportunity to wear fewer clothes, and cool down. And so Stede and Izzy sat in the study in the darkness, their feet scandalously bare. 

"Everything ok, Izzy?" Stede asked, looking up. 

"Seems to be holding stable, Bonnet." Izzy looked up, narrowing his eyes at Stede, who grinned blithely back. "Somehow, your estates finances are in fantastic shape, despite your complete disregard to their upkeep."

Stede looked a bit uncomfortable. He avoided Izzy's eyes and tried to read, but Izzy kept his gaze focused on Stede, who eventually huffed and set down his book. "My father was very diligent about the books."

Izzy raised an eyebrow, and Stede did his best not to squirm. "Numbers aren't...I'm not comfortable with them. Something my father loathed in me."

"People have their strengths." Izzy said, surprised at how charitable he was feeling. In truth, he'd been surprised at how well the estate did when he had first comes across the books. Not many people came to the house. In truth, Izzy hadn't really seen any of the tenants of the farms, or people from the village, come to the doors. And yet somehow, the estates finances were in excellent health. The Bonnet family was extremely wealthy, and, for the life of him, Izzy was struggling to figure out why. 

"You seem to have a handle on them." Stede said. Izzy stared at him, trying to figure out if Stede was making fun of him. But there was nothing but sincerity in his eyes. 

"I have...experience. In keeping books, balancing finances, shit like that." Izzy finally muttered. Stede sat up straighter, looking interested. 

"In your previous household?" He asked. Izzy swallowed past the lie, and nodded.

"The...masters...couldn't handle their money for the life of them." He said, meaning Ed. Ed was well meaning, certainly, but his scatter-brain approach to finances, the Crew's wages, and indeed buying equipment was such that, in the beginning of their partnership (but before their Partnership), Ed had all but pushed the job of balancing the books onto Izzy when it became obvious that Izzy was eminently sensible. 

Ed had money. And not a fucking clue how to manage it. 

So Izzy had allowed himself to become bookkeeper.

He rather enjoyed it.  

"And they couldn't stand to look at the numbers. So by default, I took on the duty." Izzy continued. It was a dance, talking around the truth. But, surprisingly, Izzy found himself warming to the topic. It felt good to vent about his supposed previous job, the masters he made up or created as an amalgamation of the Crew, the previous 'household' and everything that was wrong with it. Sometimes, Izzy felt a bit homesick for their house in London, but the rent that arrived monthly, combined with their income and Ed's mysterious cache, let Izzy relax. The Crew's financial situation was better then it had been in years.

So, yes. Izzy was lying, but he would happily do so as the current situation warranted. And Stede seemed enthralled, taking whatever nuggets of information that Izzy was willing to give him and preening at the illusion that his household was much better than Izzy's previous one!

"Did you work your way up to butler? Stede asked, looking enthralled. Izzy sat back, musing. 

"Not...initially." He said slowly. "Started as a run-footman, then, well, got landed into the position by default."

"Default." Stede frowned. "Didn't your previous household have a butler?"

Izzy sat back slowly. At various points over the years, the Crew had either grown or shrunk in size. And Izzy had always had the position as Second In Command, always Ed's Right Hand Man, had been since the Crew and their goal has been established. But, in the time between accepting the offer from Stede and leaving, those members of the Crew who had had service experience had basically schooled Izzy and Ed as to etiquette, duties and general demeanour. 

"The household was...somewhat transitionary." He said slowly. "Butlers...many staff came and went. Eventually, I landed the position by default. Was able to stay the longest, and found it was...acceptable to my own abilities."

"You very capable." Stede nodded and grinned at Izzy. Izzy felt something warm in his chest. And then felt cold.

He felt the same thing whenever Ed smiled at him.

What the fuck was happening to him?

"And then the household went into the Void." Stede said softly, his grin fading. Izzy bent down, fixing his eyes on the books and picking up his pen. 

"Yes." He said shortly. "All of them."

The atmosphere in the room became cold, and Stede shifted in his chair. Izzy watched him out of the corner of his eye. Stede was defiantly uncomfortable, biting his lip and worrying the pages of his book. Izzy wondered if he was thinking of the secrets that the household was keeping. Hoe deeply it seemed to weigh on the man, and Mary.

But Izzy didn't even know what to say, or how to ask. He couldn't jeopardise his job, nor the careers of the Crew. 

Even so, he wasn't stupid enough to be blind to a situation that could lead to danger. So Izzy did what he did best.

He watched. And he waited. Something was bound to happen sooner rather than later.

...

"And you need to brush firmly but without hurting." Fang said gently, handing the curry comb to a wide-eyed Alma. She was bouncing on her standing on a box next to Revenge, who was standing patiently for her brush down. Jim was sitting on a barrel with Louis, who was pouting with jealously. 

"Isn't fair that Alma gets to do it." He grumbled, and Jim laughed, tucking his hair behind his ear. 

"Alma is bigger. Don't want you to get squished if Revenge suddenly starts."

"Will Alma get squished, though?" Louis turned to look up at Jim, and Jim grinned. They leant down and whispered in Louis' ear, "Alma will be slightly less squished."

Louis giggled. Alma turned and looked at them, grinning at her brother, before Revenge nickered at her and bumping Alma, feeling short changed in her grooming. Fang, having gone to give Queen Anne her hay and feed, looked at the children over the stable door. 

It was nice to be able to interact with them. Ever since Lord Bonnet's parents visit, there had been such tension in the household that the children had turned into ghosts. Louis had been confused, worried, and had been too terrified to ask what his grandparents had meant. Alma, in contrast, was angry with her parents. Any attempt to ask then about her birthday, and the Ceremony, had been met with stony silence at best, and a snapped interaction to go away at most. Alma, in turn, had retreated, spending more and more time with Jim, Archie and Lucius. 

Jim found that they didn't mind. Alma was spunky, vivacious and questioned everything. She was willing to listen to instruction when she saw the benefit of it, and was perfectly happen to muck in when she wanted. Even now, she had dirt on her hands, and she was wearing a pair of trousers Wee John had hastily sewed together. 

Fang walked out of Queen Anne's stall, stroking her nose as she leant over the door and nibbled on his leather waistcoat. Alma was practically leaning on her tip-toes, vigoursly brushing Revenge's back as the horse half closed her eyes in contentment. Louis climbed down off the barrel and walked to Fang, who gave him Queen Anne's evening carrot so he could feed her. 

"Good lad, Louis. You're a natural." Fang said.

"Thank you." Louis said politely, and snickered as Queen Anne lipped at his hand. 

"I like coming out here. Beats staying in the house the whole time." Alma said flippantly, jumping off the box and moving it so she could brush Revenge's hindquarters. 

Jim frowned. They'd pulled out their knives from the voluminous skirts and was sharpening them. It was a testament to Fang's influence on the animals that the sight of the knives wasn't causing them to worry. "I've noticed that...you and Louis stay in the house a lot."

"Yeah. Not allowed to go out much." Alma muttered, sounding angry. She was brushing harder, her face twisted with anger and frustration. Fang, without a word, reached out and gently slowed her hand, and Alma looked at him with thanks. 

"Ever?" Jim asked cautiously. This was going against the house rules, the rules that had been drilled into their heads on that very first day. Before duties, before anything else, Lord and Lady Bonnet had stood in front of the Crew and told them, in no uncertain terms, that the children were to remain within the house. That they weren't allowed to leave, go the cliffs, or, and this was emphasised most strongly, Not Allowed To The Village. 

At all.

Ever.

Under no excuse. 

To do so would cause immediate termination of their position. 

Jim hadn't been eager to be the one to start the Exodus out of the estate, and so had been keeping scrupulously to the rules. Not just the rule regarding the children, but the very few rules about the estate. Honestly, the Bonnets were as easy going employers as Jim had ever met. They'd only spent a few years in service before, between leaving Nana's house and finding the Crew, but living in the Bonnet's household had been...easy. 

Jim was perfectly capable of blending in, had been trained to do so. Olu and them had worried about Archie, who had only spent a few months in service but had been fired. 

Turns out having Archie as the Ladies Maid had been a stroke of genius. Now, as well as dressing Mary in the morning, the two women spent more time chatting than anything else. Doug had noted that Mary's art was becoming a lot more experimental, and some afternoons, he was driven out of his own studio by the two women howling with laughter, both of them slashing paint in wide arcs on a huge canvas. 

Archie was fitting in almost better than the rest of them. 

Still, the exclusion of the children from the village was wearing on the staff. Not even Ed had managed to figure out why the children were so isolated, and his gentle probing as to why had been met with stony silence from Lord Bonnet and firm dismissal. Ed had been distraught and had spent the next few days sulking, until he and Lord Bonnet had apparently made up. 

Even Izzy hadn't been able to figure anything out, his questions towards Doug getting nothing but frustrated shrugs and his enquiries at Lord Bonnet during their not-so-secret evenings meeting stony stares. 

Jim watched as Fang led Revenge back into her stall, letting Alma give her her carrot before locking the door. Alma let out a deep sigh and slumped next to the barrel, pouting. Jim, without a thought, handed her a knife and a whetstone, which Alma gleefully took. Fang was leading Louis down the stables to where the tack was, wanting to show the inquisitive boy how to mix the next mornings feed. 

"Can't leave the house, can't go near the sea. Can't go the village, can't go anywhere."  Alma muttered. 

"Does anyone come here? Your friends-"

"Haven't got those, either." Alma snapped. Her knife sang across the whetstone with a vicious zing!

"Do you...talk to anyone?" Jim asked slowly. 

"No. We're just...trapped in the house. Both of us." Alma looked up at Jim, and Jim could see the despair in her eyes. "I feel like I'm suffocating in this place."

Jim felt something cold creep down their spine. Even they had had friends growing up, people their age who they rough-housed with and teased, who had their back in fights and whom, during those late nights, Jim could gossip with. 

Even they had had more freedom that the noble child sitting at their feet. 

"Have you ever been to the village?" Jim asked softly. Alma stopped sharpening the knife and stared sadly down at her lap. 

"I don't know." She said softly. "I don't know if I've ever left the house. I don't know if there's really a world outside of the estate. Mama and Papa are keeping me trapped her, and I'm scared."

Jim felt something punch in their stomach. They felt so sorry for Alma, and for Louis. Jim somehow didn't think that this reluctance to let the children go to the village had to do with classism. Jim was pretty good at reading people, and he didn't think that the Bonnets suffered from classism. Jim would bet their salary, and indeed, all of Ed's mysterious wealth that the reason the children weren't allowed to go to the village had to do with the Ceremony. 

Whatever the fuck that was. Jim liked to think that their upbringing and training gave them a more than usual knowledge of the Old Ones and their rituals, and even they were stumped when it came to whatever might happen to Alma when she turned 13.

"I'm sure that...your parents have good reasons." Jim said weakly, and Alma gave a black laugh. 

"They have nothing but reasons!" She exclaimed. She set down the knife and buried her face into her hands. "They tell me, all the time, that this is best for me! But I'm so lonely, and stuck here, and I'm terrified that I'll never leave!"

Jim slithered off the barrel and gathered Alma into their arms. As they rocked slowly and shushed their charge softly, their eyes met Fang's across the stable. The devastated expression on his face, the tears that even Jim could see, strengthened their resolve. 

They were put in charge of looking after Alma and Louis. One way or the other, they would find a way to make sure that the kids felt less trapped. 

...

"And a good shoulder of lamb." Lady Bonnet said, handing the shopping list to Black Pete. "Mr Roach has in mind a proper Sunday roast, and, truthfully, I'm looking forward to it!"

"Right, my Lady." Black Pete said, nodding. He glanced at the list, before stuffing it into his waistcoat pocket. 

"I'm surprised that Mr Roach and Mr Frenchie aren't coming with you. Don't they usually go to the village?" Lady Bonnet said, looking at the cart behind him. Pete did everything in his power not to show how nervous he was, and so ignored the trickle of sweat down his back. 

"Said that they were especially busy today, my Lady."

"We'll be fine, my Lady!" Archie called from the back of the cart, waving wildly. "Not like we can get lost!"

Mary grinned and nodded to Archie, before clapping Pete on the shoulder, turning and walking into the house. Pete walked to the cart and hopped up next to Fang on the bench. In the back, Jim and Archie sat, their skirts fluffed up around them carefully. Fang clicked his tongue and fluttered the reins, and Queen Anne quickly walked on, developing into a soft trot as they left the estate grounds. As they passed the stone gateway, Jim and Archie glanced up to see Buttons perched at the top, his fierce gaze fixed on the sky.

"Good day, Mr Buttons!" Archie called up.

"Keep them safe, Archie. Keep those bairns safe!" He yelled back. Archie jerked, her expression turning into confusion and fear. 

"Think he knows?" She whispered to Jim. Jim shrugged, resting a hand on a lump beneath her skirt. 

"Even if he does, I don't think that he'll tell. Think he's more with us than anything else." Jim said, sounding more sure that they felt. Even so, as the cart gently moved towards the village, Jim felt cautiously hopeful. 

The whole household, with the exception of Ed and Izzy (which had pained them, but they felt that Ed was too close to Bonnet and Izzy was becoming compromised) was involved. Even Lucius had been persuaded to go along, with Pete using their growing attraction to persuade the tutor help. Now, everyone was ensuring that, wherever Lord and Lady Bonnet went, the children would have only just left the room. 

The cart travelled into the town, and, as the villagers recognised the staff from the estate and started to greet them, Jim and Archie moved their skirts. Alma and Louis popped out, their hair wildly mussed. 

"Phew!" Alma said, laughing and already looking around with bright, curious eyes. Archie took the opportunity to smooth down Louis' hair, giggling with the boy. 

"That was an escape!" Jim said, laughing. Alma clambered on to the bench beside and gazed at the village, bouncing with glee. 

"This is awesome!" Alma whispered, grinning. 

"Remember, you can't say anything." Fang said over his shoulder. He was pulling up on the Main Street and settling Queen Anne down.

"No, no." Louis mumbled, slightly scared at everyone staring at them.

"Otherwise we'll leave, and you'll have to remain at the estate forever." Archie said, getting out of the cart and holding Louis up under his arms. Alma sucked in a breath and nodded, looking solemn. 

"I promise." She whispered. Jim helped her hop out of the cart, grabbing baskets for the shopping. They were in the village for the weekly shop, and they would do that. But Jim, and indeed everyone, felt that getting the children to the village was more important. 

Jim didn't worry about Lord and Lady Bonnets potential reaction. As far as they were concerned, as long as everyone was careful, they would never know. 

It was just letting the children into the village, allowing them to experience the wider world and, as Alma waved shyly to a girl with flame-red hair who had a basket over her arm, potentially make friends. What was the worst that could happen?

Izzy entered his bedroom, stretching after another long day. The weather seemed to be sapping the energy from him, and he needed a decent wash. The air was muggy and close, and his uniform was more of a hindrance than a help in these moments. 

He entered his bedroom, already unbuttoning his waistcoat, and froze when he saw Ed sitting on the bed. 

"Ed." He said cautiously. Ed looked at him, his eyes unusually serious. He was nibbling his lips, pressing his fingertips together between his knees. 

"Hey, Iz." He said softly. Izzy took off his waistcoat and unravelled his neckerchief, placing them on his little desk. He sat down at his desk chair and crossed his arms, fixing his gaze on Ed. 

"What do you need, Ed?" Izzy asked, snapping slightly. They hadn't really talked since coming to the estate. Izzy could see that Bonnet had managed to ensnare Ed, and, whilst Izzy knew that their relationship was frequently transient, he hadn't seen Ed in a private capacity for a very, very long time. In the back of his mind, he was terrified that this meant that his relationship with Ed was over. That Ed would no longer look at Izzy with longing, with unbridled lust and the small quirk of his lips he got when they fucked. 

That Ed might no longer be in love with him, the same way Izzy was with Ed.

"Why are we here, Izzy?" Ed asked. Izzy looked surprised by the question, but he refrained from answering flippantly due to the serious look on Ed's face. 

"You...what...Ed, what the fuck do you mean? Leaving London was your idea!"

"I know!" Ed said, sitting up and holding up his hands. "I know it was! But, fuck Izzy," Ed said, sounding frustrated. He ran his hands through his hair, yanking irritably when he caught a snarl at the ends. Izzy's fingers twitched with the desire to sort it for him. 

"I know why we left, but can't you see?" Ed said, looking pleadingly at Izzy. "We need to come here. We needed the change."

Izzy felt something in him go cold. "Ed-"

"Izzy, we were stuck." 

The world tilted on its axis. Izzy reached out and clutched the side of his desk. "Stuck?" He said faintly, and Ed looked pained. 

"Just...fucking...Izzy, we weren't going anywhere!" Ed threw up his hands. Izzy felt the numbness burn away, anger slowly replacing it. 

"Ed, we'd just completed a plan! Granted, we fucking failed, but we were still doing something!"

"But it was the same thing again and again and I was FUCKING BORED!"

Izzy sucked in a breath between his teeth, and leant in, fixing Ed with a hard stare. "You were...bored?"

Ed met Izzy's eyes with an equally hard stare. "Izzy, I felt like I was trapped. That's why coming out here was such a...necessary change."

Izzy just looked at Ed. Felt like he'd been hollowed out. "Izzy, I was in a rut. I needed to have something different happen, or I would have gone spare. Coming out here...meeting the Bonnets...changing pace...I fucking needed it!" Ed said, realising a bit too late that he wasn't managing to calm Izzy down. 

"Well," Izzy said, his tone a thin veneer of calm over pulsing anger, "I'm so fucking pleased that this little holiday has been so good for you. And I'm so, so sorry, that living in London wasn't exciting enough for you. Glad that you managed to find the next thing to keep you entertained, but some of us didn't really need to be uprooted. Some of us were happy being in London, with our routine and our goals. But you, Ed?" Izzy ran a hand through his hair and clicked his tongue. "You've never been able to see that routine...stability...can be a...good thing."

Izzy felt like he was choking. He was so angry, so defeated, that he didn't know what to do with himself. He whirled around and practically ran out of the room. He could hear Ed yell his name, but he ignored it. He ignored everything. 

Izzy felt like he was crumbling with the weight of truth. He wasn't meant to know why they were truly there. 

He didn't want to know that Ed considered them stuck and boring. Izzy would rather have not known. 

It felt like his heart was breaking.

...

Stede entered his bedroom to see Ed sitting on the bed, staring moodily out of the window. 

"Ed?" He asked softly, and Ed jumped, turning and staring at Stede.

"I'm sorry!" He said quickly, getting up and almost running to the wardrobe. "You want to get dressed for dinner." He opened the door and bolted in, hoping that the ritual of choosing clothing would soothe his mind. Stede looked at him, frowning. The house had felt in a state of discontent today, with everyone seeming to tread on eggshells. 

"Is...something the matter, Ed?" He asked gently. The rustling in the wardrobe stopped, and Ed poked his head out, the forced smile on his face incredibly brittle. 

"No, no!" He said, his voice wavering. "Not at all!"

"Are you sure?" Stede said, his skepticism growing. "Because you don't look fine."

"I'm perfectly fucking well." Ed said through gritted, smiling teeth, and only realised what he had said when Stede's eyebrows rose. Ed's smile dropped and he nibbled his lips, looking away. The dark grey coat in his hands dropped, and, after not meeting Stede's eyes, he sighed deeply. He hung the coat back up and walked out of the wardrobe, shoving his hands into his pockets and kicking his feet.

Stede smiled gently and walked over to the bed, patting the space beside him. "Sit with me." Ed sat, and nervously clasped his hands together, twiddling his thumbs and cracking his fingers. Stede placed a hand over his, and Ed looked up into Stede's sympathetic eyes. "Now, what's all this about?" Stede asked gently. 

"Got into an argument. Said the wrong fucking thing, ruined everything." Ed muttered, sounding cross and somewhat pathetic all at once. 

"With who, Ed?" Stede nudged Ed with his shoulder.

"With Iz-Mr Hands."

"Ah." Stede sat in silence, and used the time to undo the knot of Ed's fingers. He pressed his hand between them, holding Ed's hand gently and idly stroking a thumb across the knuckles. "And was it...bad?"

Ed snorted uglily, and tried to discreetly wipe his eyes. "I made him think...said the things I've had on my mid for a while. But they can out wrong, and now Izzy, uh, Mr Hands-"

"You can call him Izzy with me." Stede said kindly, and Ed flashed him a grateful smile. 

"Well, Izzy thinks that I don't...he thinks that why we had to leave London had to do with my...um..." Ed tried frantically to think about how to word their situation without alerting the nice and somewhat proper Lord Bonnet to the fact that he liked to fuck men, "working relationship with Izzy."

"And what did you say?" Stede said slowly. He was trying to figure out if Ed was talking at face value, or, if the little problem solving part of his brain was telling him, that Ed was using metaphors to conceal a wider truth.

"Said I was stuck in a rut. Said I was bored, and trapped, and that nothing was moving forwards." Ed whispered, and Stede let out a deep sigh. 

"Oh dear." Stede said, and Ed gave a wet, weak laugh. 

"Didn't mean with him." Ed whispered, and a tear trickled down his cheek. "Never with him. But it didn't mean what I said wasn't true. Me, him. The entire Crew were stuck in this fucking...quagmire...of our own making, and we weren't moving." Ed turned to look at Stede, still occasionally shedding tears but giving him a small smile. 

"Kind of why I pushed a need for change. We were going around in fucking circles, and could have gone...fucking mad for the lack of change."

"And instead, you all came out to a mansion in the middle of nowhere by the sea."

Ed snickered, ugly and wet, and Stede, feeling bold, reached up and swiped his tears away. "I understand, you know. Feeling trapped, not knowing how to move forward."

Ed nodded. "Kind of figured that out by now."

Stede looked past Ed for a moment, into the abodoned wardrobe. He licked his lips and then looked at Ed, trying to conjure up his courage. "If Izzy misinterpreted your meaning, and won't listen to you, then maybe I could talk to him."

Ed's eye widened. "You fucking think?" He said with a small gasp. He'd never know Izzy to listen to anyone, outside of Ed and the Crew. 

"I can try. Bring him around to your way of thinking, offer a sympathetic ear." Stede smiled at Ed. "I'm occasionally good at listening."

Ed felt overwhelmed with gratitude. Without thinking, he laid his head on Stede's shoulder. Stede let him, wrapping an arm around Ed without thinking and stroking his long hair. They both gazed out of the window at the setting sun, painting the sky orange. Ed felt something shift inside of him as the cliffs swallowed the light, and the sky gradually turned purple with stars. 

"I think I was drowning before this. Everything was on top of me, pushing me to the bottom." Ed whispered, not even thinking. Stede heard him, but couldn't interrupt. He didn't dare break this sacred moment. "I'm not drowning anymore."

Think I can finally swim again."

...

Stede entered his study that night feeling like he was going into battle. He was still wearing the grey coat that Ed had picked out for him, and, as he saw the candlelight flickering from beneath the for, he squared his shoulders and swallowed his pride. 

He wasn't intimidated by Izzy. He wasn't!

(He was. A bit.)

He opened the door and closed it behind him, buying himself a few seconds to figure out what he was going to say. Then, reminding himself that, at the end of the day, he was the Lord of this house, he turned and looked at Izzy. The man himself was seated in his usual chair, looking as carefully blank as Stede was. He had a book open in his lap, but Stede noticed that he was turning the pages a bit too frequently and viciously for him to be truly reading. 

"Good evening, Mr Hands." Stede said, starting their usual ritual. This time, Izzy didn't say anything. He simply nodded at Stede without looking up from his book. Stede bit back his irritation and went to his chair, picking up his book from the side table. He opened it and looked, but the words blurred in front of his eyes. 

The silence was deeply uncomfortable, and Stede didn't everything to resist the desire to squirm. He'd never been very good at handling these kind of tense situations. In fact, he'd spent virtually his entire life trying to avoid them. 

But he remembered Ed crying on his shoulder, and felt a surge of anger. He closed his book and was about to reprimand Izzy, when he saw Izzy was looking at him in turn. 

His eyes were slightly red. A bit puffy. 

Stede realised that this man, too, was affected by what happened between him and Ed. And his anger left him like a breeze. Stede let out a sigh and leant back, keeping Izzy's gaze. He gave Izzy a small, twisted smile and said, softly, "Ed told me about your argument."

Izzy's mouth trembled minutely. So small that if Stede hadn't been looking for it specifically, he would have missed it. Finally, Izzy said through gritted teeth, "I fear that he's losing his...focus."

Stede raised an eyebrow. "Focus? On what?"

Izzy too set down his book and leant forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He tapped the tips of his fingers together gently and held Stede's gaze. "Before, when we worked at the...other house." He said slowly. "Ed...had plans. Had ideas, and things he wanted to implement in his life. And I helped him plan. Helped him focus on the specifics, the small details that sometimes slipped his mind. He was brilliant at plans, you know. Fucking genius with them."

"And now?" Stede said softly. Izzy gave an ugly snort and jerked his head away, somehow looking both furious and deeply betrayed. 

"He's loosing focus. Lost his drive, given up his whole fucking identity by coming here. Everything he...we...planned for. Up in fucking smoke, just so he can play house." Izzy said through gritted teeth. Stede watched as his gently tapping fingertips twisted together until his knuckles cracked. 

"Do you really think that's what's happened? Has Ed actually said that he wanted to give up everything you planned?" Stede said. He had no idea what Izzy was really talking about. Did Ed and the Crew have plans for their previous household? Maybe big renovations, maybe challenging for more pay or better hours?

Honestly, what could a group of servants really plan for?

"He hasn't talked with me about them for fucking weeks!" Izzy snapped. "Nothing. And now he's swanning around, talking about fucking clothes and the fucking jewellery and your...fucking silver plate!" Izzy stood up as he yelled, kicking the chair. The wood creaked, and Stede jumped, worried not only about his lovely antique furniture, but also about Izzy's foot. The man himself seemed to have ignored it, pacing furiously. 

"Mr Hands, please sit down." Stede said, but Izzy ignored him.

"I can't figure it out! I can't understand how he can just give everything up! We worked for fucking years for these plans! Spent hours, days, bloody weeks just crafting every detail, to fulfil our own mutual goals. What we bled for, dreamed about! We spent our whole lives just thinking about a future we were fighting for, and now he seems to have just abandoned m-"

Izzy stopped suddenly, and froze. He didn't dare look at Stede, who was gazing at him with his mouth open. The air hung with the weight of what Izzy had almost confessed. Even Stede wasn't so stupid as to not realise what had almost been admitted. 

Finally, after what felt like an eon, Stede licked his lips and said, very softly, "I don't think he's forgotten, Mr Hands. I think he just needed something different."

"We could have found that in London." Izzy said, sounding like he was trying to unstick his own throat. He still didn't look at Stede, turning to stare out of the window at the night sky. Stede let him, feeling a wash of sympathy for Izzy. The man was so tightly wound up, he didn't know how to accept even the slightest sign of comfort. Stede's heart ached for him.

"I think he needed a change of pace. Maybe," He said slowly, cautiously, "he needed to get away from being so close. Finally gain a different perspective on things."

Izzy's shoulder's slumped and he tipped his head back, now looking up at the ceiling. He looked exhausted. "He'll defiantly get that here. Never been to a place that's so...different from what we knew."

"Your previous household wasn't like this?" Stede asked, trying to keep the surprise out of his voice. Izzy rolled his head and gave Stede a small, grim smile. 

"This household is...one of a kind. Never been to a place like this before. Didn't know people like you existed." 

Stede gave a small chuckle, and Izzy turned around. He walked back to the chair and picked up his book, flicking through the pages ideally. Stede was glad that he seemed to have calmed down, even if his melancholy air was still hovering about him. 

"Perhaps, Mr Hands," Stede said, watching him as the candlelight illuminated his neat beard, his slicked back hair, the small x on his cheek he didn't bother to hide. "Being different isn't a bad thing."

"Jury's still out on that." Izzy said sarcastically, but with less bite than he might have given. Stede felt a thrill, knowing that Izzy was getting back into his usual fighting form. 'I did that.' He thought, and briefly wondered at the trill this gave him. 

"I think that, if you want it too, Ed might not be the only one who needs a different setting."

Izzy looked at Stede, a somewhat pensive expression on his face. Then, remarkably, the corner of his mouth hitched up.

"We'll see, Lord Bonnet. We'll see."

"Indeed, Mr Hands." Stede answered. And they both sat down, opened their respective books, and read on into the night. 

Chapter Text

One Week Later

It was a brisk morning when Izzy woke up. He stretched, curling his toes, and then swiftly got up. He washed himself in the ewer, grimacing at the remnants of dried blood around his cunt. He'd been forever lucky that his cycle was so infrequent, helped with the identity he'd clawed for himself when he'd escaped death and reached London.

But when he did bleed, it was like he'd been stabbed. Pain and all. 

Thankfully, it was probably his last day. He stuffed new rags into his underwear, after drying himself off, and secured his tie around his neck. As he exited his room, already mentally going through the days checklist, he saw Ed exit his rooms at the same time. He was yawning, stretching his arms over his head, and his hair was hanging loose and slightly wet down his back. Izzy's fingers twitched with the urge to braid it, but he resisted. 

He was about to ask Ed about the new schedule changes, considering Alma's birthday was only a month away and despite Lord and Lady Bonnets insistence, there did seem to be some kind of celebration being planed, when something stopped him cold. 

Ed's neckerchief was red. 

Red silk. 

Izzy's face drained of blood. He knew what seeing that meant. 

Once upon a time, Ed had told Izzy what the strip of delicate fabric meant. That it had been passed from his mother down to him, as a token of love. How she had stolen it from an old life, and given it to her son, so that he could see both where they had come from, and where they could go. That Ed could choose to make his own future by giving the person he loved this fabric as a token. 

Izzy had secretly hoped that one day, Ed might give it to him. But that had been years ago, and the fabric had disappeared, and Izzy had squashed down those foolish notions of love.

But Ed was wearing it. And Izzy knew who it was for.

Without a word, he grabbed Ed's arm, ignoring his protests, and dragged him back into Ed's room. He slammed the door and glared at Ed, who was staring at Izzy with confusion on his eyes. 

"What the fuck, Iz?" He asked, running a hand through his hair. "Why did you do that?"

"Why are you wearing...that?" Izzy asked, sounding strangled. He gestured to the red fabric, and saw Ed's expression change as he realised what Izzy had figured out.

"Iz..." Ed said softly. 

"No, Ed." Izzy snapped. "Are you...Jesus Christ, are you fucking him?"

"No, Iz!" Ed said, surprised. He reached out, wanting to hold Izzy, but Izzy stepped back, folding his arms. He could feel tears prick his eyes, and clenched his fist. 

"Do you love him?" He asked. 

The silence was oppressive. And Ed didn't know what to say. 

The truth was, he didn't know. He knew what he felt for Stede was something special. Something he hadn't felt for a long time. Stede...got him. Indulged his adoration for lovely fabrics, and good china, and all of the silly things that he had buried deep in his soul by running a terroristic group in the heart of this oppressive regime everyone was living under. 

Being in London was like living in a pressure cooker. Ed had spent everyday low-key terrified about being discovered, at seeing the Crew and Izzy punished for their fight. Ed knew that they would have been publicly tortured and executed. Ed also knew that he wouldn't have been watch.

He would have been swallowed back into the fold, and he would have lost everything that made him Ed. 

Ed looked at Izzy, trying to fight back his own tears. 

"I still love you." Ed finally whispered, feeling like he was tearing in two. 

Izzy hissed and turned around, but Ed could smell the tears. He watched as Izzy swiped angrily at his eyes, and Ed simply stood there, unconsciously twisting the ends of the red silk between his fingers. "I still love you, Izzy." He whispered again. 

"Don't." Izzy said sharply. "Stop fucking speaking." 

"Izzy-"

"He makes you happy." Izzy whispered, and Ed froze. His head, which he had been reaching out to touch Izzy's shoulder, froze, and Ed felt the truth of that statement wash through him. 

Ed was happy. At the same time his heart was breaking at the pain and anger in Izzy's voice, every moment he spent with Stede was healing some part of his should that had been wearing away in London. He knew that he still believed in their mission. The desire to see the end of the Old Ones, to see the Void Portals closed forever and watch them starve in the Blackness, cut them off from their worship and food and madness was something carved into his soul. Ed was fervent with the knowledge that this was his duty in life. 

But the knowledge that being away from their mission was good for them was killing him. It made what was happening with Stede feel both wonderful, and a deep betrayal. 

Izzy exemplified the mission. Stede was the future. 

And Ed was torn between the two. 

"He makes you happy. I've never seen you smile like you have, you talk about...fucking clothes, and good food, and whatever that posh fuck likes! And you like that shit! I can see it! You're fucking laughing."

"I laugh with you." Ed said weakly, and Izzy gave a harsh, heartbroken laugh.

"Not for years.." Izzy countered quickly, turning back to look at Ed. "Not for years. We haven't laughed, talked about anything other than the Mission, or even fucked for ages."

The silence was ringing. Izzy was breathing like he'd run a marathon, and Ed could do nothing but stare at him. 

"I don't...do that to you." Izzy finally whispered. Ed's face twisted in pain. "I'm just...not like that."

"Izzy-"

But Izzy fixed his face into his usual scowl, and stormed past Ed. Ed smelt him as he went past, and then, when Izzy walked out of the corridor into the kitchen, he sat down soon his bed, put his face between his knees, and started to sob.

Izzy was right. 

Didn't mean Ed loved him any less. 

...

"Good morning, Ed!" Stede said breezily, already out of bed and freshen washed. He was in his wardrobe, gently moving his summer linens to the front, realising that they hadn't been yet. He couldn't have expected that Ed knew about changing his wardrobe around as the season changed, and he looked forward to teaching Ed and going through it this morning. 

There was silence, and Stede frowned. He was absolutely certain that Ed had come into the room, and so he went out. 

Ed was indeed in the room, setting the bed. But he had a ferocious scowl and his face. Stede was almost distracted by the beautiful silk neckerchief that he had, but neatly shook himself and addressed why Ed looked so upset. 

"Something the matter?" He asked gently. Ed looked up, and seemed to realise what his face looked like to Stede. For some reason, a bright red blush developed on his cheeks as he stared at Stede, and his hand came up to play with the red silk. But soon his expression soured, and he stop making the bed and sat down in a slump. 

"Got into an argument with Izzy." He grumbled. Stede let out a sigh and sat down beside him.

"A bad one?"

Ed nodded, his grumpy expression changing slightly to one of sorrow. He nibbled his lips and looked at Stede. 

"I wonder, sometimes, whether he's really got my back sometimes." Ed said. Stede raised his eyebrows. 

Now this, he couldn't believe. 

"Ed, I assure you." Stede said, sounding slightly incredulous. "If there is one thing that I can absolutely know, it's that Izzy will always be devoted to you."

"You sound so sure." Ed said, with a slight pout. Stede gave him a small smile. 

"From what I know about Izzy, I can see how much he believes in you. He listens to you, he wants your opinions. He has no doubt about what you think."

Ed looked at Stede, looking surprised. "You think that about him?"

"He's not exactly subtle about it." Stede said, and Ed finally gave a small laugh. 

"It's about the most true thing about him." Ed said, sitting back on his hands and looking up at the ceiling. "Whatever happened in London, whatever happened to us and the Crew and...everything...I knew that Izzy would always be by my side."

Stede smiled. Listening to Ed talk about Izzy was sweet. He could feels the affection from Ed, and tried to ignore the twin combinations of fellow affection and something that felt uncomfortably like jealousy. 

Whether towards Izzy or towards Ed, he couldn't say. Couldn't possibly be towards both, that would be ridiculous!

"You're very lucky to have him." Stede said softly.

Something twisted in Ed's face. Something that looked like sorrow, and pain, and a certain degree of confusion. 

"I...am." He said very slowly, sorrow colouring his voice. "I take him for granted."

"Then maybe you could show him some appreciation." Stede gave him a small smile, nudging his shoulder with his. Ed didn't nudge back, but he leant into Stede and rested his head on his shoulder. Stede felt his heart stutter, and he vowed never to move again. 

"I don't know how to do it here. Back in London, everything was so different. Easier, you know? We had a routine, and we could work within it. But here?" Ed waved a hand around in a vague motion. "Everything is...strange. But not in a bad way!" Ed shouted, looking up at Stede with wide, worried brown eyes. 

"Oh, thank you!" Stede beamed at him, and Ed, despite himself, beamed back. 

"It's just so lovely and quiet here. No trouble, no danger, nothing." Ed said dreamily, and Stede swallowed down the churning lie in his chest. 

If Ed knew the truth, about the Bonnet family, about the estate, about Alma's upcoming birthday, he'd run for the hills. And Stede was certain that his heart would break. 

"And despite everything," Ed continued, "I don't know how to reconnect with Izzy."

Stede and Ed sat there, both of them staring out of the window. Finally, Stede sighed and unconsciously ran a hand through Ed's hair. 

"Could there be something that's preventing you from doing so?" He asked. Ed stiffened, and Stede frowned. 

"Maybe." Ed whispered. 

"Oh?" Stede said, sounding slightly strangled. His heart started beating stronger, and he knew that Ed could feel it. At the same time, his skin felt flushed, and he felt a prickling feeling in his armpits. It felt like he was in the precipice of something. Standing on the edge of a cliff with a rope around his waist, and it was up to both him and Ed whether they would sink or swim. 

"I...I think..." Ed tried. He licked his lips, still not looking up at Stede, but Stede simply wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and hugged him tight. 

"I felt...something new. For...someone else." Ed finally said.

"Oh?" Stede squeaked out. He sounded like a mouse being stepped on. 

"I think...I'm happy with him." Ed sat up and stared at his hands, his fingers twisting around each other. 

"Yeah?"

"And I think...I think..." Ed looked up at Stede, and Stede couldn't look away. Those incredible eyes were liquid, wide and pulled Stede in like a maelstrom, and Stede was completely unable to look away. "It might be...you."

Stede felt his heart stop. The world slowed down, and the morning sunlight hit Ed's hair like polished silver. Stede wondered if he had perhaps died and managed to get into that hallowed place the secret Christian priests called Heaven.

"I am...happy with you. And I think," Ed whispered. He sniffled and took Stede's hand, running his thumb over Stede's knuckles. "I think that I love you, Stede Bonnet."

Stede didn't have any other reaction. He leant forward and kissed Ed, taking his lips gently and pressing a hand against his cheek. Ed, in turn, closed his eyes and kissed back, wrapping his arms around Stede's shoulders and crying softly. 

Time slowed down, and the bedroom became the only place on earth. As the first kiss ended, Ed placed another one on Stede's lips, and then Stede returned the favour. Stede stroked Ed's hair, and Ed unconsciously kneaded Stede's shoulders. They existed in a feedback loop of ecstasy and happiness, and when, finally, they stopped kissing, they rested their foreheads together. 

"You make me happy as well, Ed." Stede whispered. Ed's smile was more blinding than the sun. "And I think I love you too."

Ed giggled. Actually giggled, and rubbed his nose against Stede's. Stede thought his heart would burst, and he cuddled Ed close. 

There was a looming cloud over his head. A storm was arriving, all centred around his daughter and her future. And yet, in this moment, Stede felt the happiest he had ever felt in his life. 

...

"Well...shit." Frenchie said in the kitchen, looking at the sad and angry faces of Jim, Archie and Oluwande. The trio had come down mid morning, all of them exchanging glances and looking like their entire world had been shattered. When Wee John, sitting at the end of the table nearly drowning in white fabric, had asked what was the matter, Oluwande hadn't even bothered to hold his partners back. 

"He really said that to Lord Bonnet?" Ivan asked. He was busy rubbing polish into a bunch of candlesticks, but put down his rag and focused on the trio. 

"Really." Archie nodded, her hair trying to fly out of its right bun. Without a thought, Jim reached over and fixed her wayward strands.

"No wonder Izzy has been so subdued lately." Roach said sadly. He hadn't stopped cooking, and was using the opportunity to angrily mince some carrots into tiny cubes. 

"If the Boss has been pulling away and falling in love with Bonnet..." Wee John said, and trailed off. Everyone at the table winced as they thought of how down Izzy had seemed. To be fair, his work hadn't suffered at all. He still ran the tightest ship in the county. The household was organised down to the minute, and Jim knew how much Lady Bonnet appreciated the new organisation. 

But still, Izzy himself had been...distant. Less willing to engage with the Crew. Less willing to talk, or even banter. 

Quiet, and contained. 

And now they knew why.

It was pretty much an open secret that Ed and Izzy were an item. Enough of the Crew (every one of them) had seem them exit the same room in the morning. Had seen when Izzy hadn't managed to tie his neckerchief high enough to conceal the love bites.

And God knows that enough of them had gone to sleep with rags in their ears when Ed had forgotten that he and Izzy weren't alone in the house at night. 

But this? This was betrayal. 

"Stupid fucking bastard." Frenchie muttered lowly, unexpectedly vicious. 

"Bonnet or Ed?" Jim asked, sharing a sharp grin with Frenchie, who plucked out a short little tune on the violin he was holding. 

"Not fair on Izzy." Ivan muttered, cleaning a candlestick frantically, and no doubt thinking of introducing it to someone's head. Dealers choice whether it was Ed or Stede. 

"No, it isn't." Oluwande said softly. Everyone turned to look at him. "Which means we've got to be there for him. Keep him company as much as he'll let us, make sure that he knows we've got his back."

Everyone nodded. Each person at the table, and the rest of the Crew in the grounds, had gone through their own troubles. And Izzy had been there throughout it all. Sure, shouting, snapping and bullying them to move on, but he'd listened to them and vouched for them. 

It was only right that they do the same thing for him when it was his turn. 

The Crew looked up as footsteps clattered onto the stairs. Lucius came down, pulling at his cuffs and grimacing at the ink there. Behind him, Black Pete followed, looking at Lucius with his usual besotted expression. 

"Good morning?" Roach asked, pouring a cup of tea and sliding it towards Lucius. 

"Could have been better." Lucius said, grimacing. He added sugar and milk and took a dip swig, pulling a face at the temperature but nodding a thanks to Roach. Without a change of expression, he passed the tea to Pete, who nodded thanks and took a sip. They sat the the table, sharing the cup, and Frenchie looked at everyone with a small smile. It was good for the Crew to see Pete so happy. 

"What's gone wrong?" Archie asked. Lucius shrugged. 

"Alma was asking about her old Governess. Her birthday coming up is something that old bat was always banging on about, and now it's getting closer, she was complaining that at least with the old staff, she would have got a proper birthday."

Everyone looked at each other. The occasionally news about the previous staff, which came in small outbursts from the Lord, Lady, and Lucius, was all the more mysterious because they'd never had a concrete reason as to why they'd all be fired. Every time they'd asked, they'd been met with the usual stony silence. 

At least in the beginning. But the Crew had been there for nearly 4 months now, and Lucius had really become one of them. He may not know about their Mission, that they were the reason behind the most recent attack on the Royal Family. But he bantered with them, gave them the benefit of his sharp mind and even sharper wit, and had virtually melted into a relationship with Black Pete without a thinking. Lucius was now Part Of The Crew, in sprint even if not in full fact. 

Surely they could tweezer out the truth now?

Wee John looked at everyone and then leant forwards over his sewing, fingers still going but his eyes slightly narrowed. "You know, we might be able to give Alma a proper send off if we knew what to avoid."

Lucius looked at him, setting down his teacup slowly. Everyone had paused in their duties and was staring at him. Even Pete, hand on his thigh in solidarity, was looking at him with a slightly pleading expression. Lucius, sensing that he was trapped, sighed deeply.

"Alright, alright!" He said, lowering his voice and leaning in. Everyone did the same. "I'll tell you all, but only as a warning. Because I like the lot of you, crazy people that you are, and I don't want to see you gone."

"Go on." Oluwande said slowly. 

"Ok, so," Lucius said. Pete moved his hand from Lucius' thigh to his shoulder. "The old staff? They didn't listen to the Master and Mistress, at all. Thought that they were being oppressive, and cruel, and didn't want to do anything to help the children."

The Crew fought the urge to look at each other. Truthfully, this was exactly what they had been talking about. 

"They also spoke to Lord Bonnet's parents, gave them information about the household and the family. The old Governess, truthfully, was more the previous Lady Bonnet's puppet and spy, and refused to heed the current Lady Bonnet's orders. They thought that the Lord and Lady didn't honour the family god properly."

The Crew jerked back. Truthfully, they hadn't really considered the strange reason why the family Old God, usually a staple amongst noble families, was so absent in this household. There was no herald in the dining room, nothing on the header of the writing paper Stede used, the family didn't even give thanks to their God before eating. 

It was as if this family somehow existed without one. And yet, there was a tension in this household that the Crew knew could only be associated with dealing with the Old Gods. Everyone in the room recognised that particular atmosphere. But without any obvious signs of a God, the Crew had been left somewhat floundering as to why the Bonnet parents were so tense. 

Even Ed, usually so attuned to the Old Gods, was left floundering. He didn't have a clue, but had instructed them to keep an eye out. 

"So, Lord and Lady Bonnet, they have these rules about letting the children out. And I don't know why, trust me. I've been tempted to ask," Lucius sat back, with a brittle smile on his face. "But I value this job too much. I was lucky to get it, and I don't want to do anything to jeopardise it."

"We get it." Jim said hurriedly. 

"So when I tell you that the reason that the ENTIRE HOUSEHOLD was dismissed, you understand why."

The kitchen sat in silence. Even Roach, at the stove, had moved the pots to an unlit burner as he focused on Lucius. 

"You can tell us, babe." Pete said softly. Lucius let out a shaky breath. 

"The household was dismissed because they let Alma and Louis into the village. They disobeyed the rules, and let the kids leave the crowds and mingle with the villagers. The Bonnets went berserk. I've never heard Lady Bonnet scream like that. Even made the old butler cry. But this is a hard and fast rule. Always been there, even before I came here. No leaving the grounds, no going to the village. The children are meant to Stay In The Mansion."

With that, Lucius thinking he had made his point, he stood up and walked out of the kitchen. Pete, grimacing after him, sent an apologetic look back towards the Crew and followed him. 

There was a ringing silence, before Archie snorted. "That's it?"

"That's the entire reason the old staff was dismissed?" Ivan said, disbelief colouring his voice.

"It's...pathetic." Frenchie muttered, sounding faint. Roach nodded, turning back to his pans. 

"Clearly, the Bonnets have no sense of danger. I mean, going to the village?" Jim scoffed. "How dangerous is that?"

"What the problem seems to be," Wee John mused, taking out his anger and disbelief on his stitching, "is that the previous staff were crap at being sneaky."

"No experience." Oluwande nodded, giving Wee John a tiny grin.

"Which we have oodles of. So," Archie said. She stood up and set about pouring tea for everyone, and Fenchie immediately jumped up to help her to prevent anyone from wearing it. "We just have to be sneakier."

"Keeping the children here is abuse." Roach said. He'd taken out a stick of liquorice and was chewing on it, stirring what was turning out to be a delicious tomato sauce on the stove. "You can see it in their faces. They want to go out."

"Then we continue what we're doing. We've been getting away with it, it's dead easy." Jim sounded jubilant. 

Everyone nodded. They would continue helping the kids, and just not let the parents know. Sneaking around, keeping secrets, not being noticed. This was their bread and butter. And it was for the benefit of the kids. 

They were in the right. The Crew was sure of it. And they just needed to stay the course. 

"Need a stool for that?" Ed asked. He watched, hands in his pockets, as Mary stretched on her tiptoes to reach the top of her canvas. In the corner, Doug was calmly dabbing what looked like liquid gold onto a small portrait of Louis. 

"Never!" Mary wheezed out. Her outstretched leg quivered as she reached up with a paintbrush smeared with purple, trying to reach a small strip at the top of the painting that was still white. Realising stretching wasn't working, she huffed and then jumped, managing to swipe the paint on. She landed and crowed happily, standing back to look at the riot of colour.

"May I...talk to you?" Ed asked, sounding small. Mary turned and looked at him, taking in his downtrodden posture and hangdog expression. She looked at Doug, who nodded and set down his brush. But as he stood to leave, Ed said "No, please. I want to talk to the both of you."

"O...k." Mary said slowly. She wiped her hands on a rag, and they all walked to the back of the studio, where a small are was kept clear of canvas and paint. There was a tiny burner, and, without a word, Doug lit it and set a kettle full of clean water on the top. There was a small icebox sat in the back, and a small cupboard set above it. Mary reached up to get out 3 clean mugs, and a small caddy of tea.

"Thank you." Ed said and sat down on a stool, his eyes shifting from the multitude of paintings and detritus in the room. There were enormous windows in the ceiling, and the sunlight made the room practically glow. Truthfully, the studio was one of the most welcoming places on the entire estate. 

"Anything to add?" Doug asked as the kettle finished whistling, and he poured the tea.

"Dollop of milk and seven sugars." Ed said without thinking. Doug paused and shared a look with Mary. She gave him a small smile and shrug. Doug fixed Ed his tea and gave him the mug, who took a deep sip and then sighed. "Oh, that's magic, that."

"Thank you." Doug said. He finished making Mary and Doug their own mugs, and everyone sat down, not quite knowing how to start.

Finally, Ed sighed. "I need some advice."

Mary raised her eyebrows. As observant as she was, she had an inkling what this was going to be about. "About?" She asked gently. 

"I'm...there's a...Izzy...fuck why is this so difficult?" Ed hissed to himself, and Mary couldn't help herself. She gave a small giggle as she watched Ed flounder. 

"Does this have something to do with the fact that you're in love with both Mr Hands and Stede?" She asked sweetly. Ed looked like a deer in the lamplight. 

"Yes." He said slowly. Doug laid a hand on Mary's knee and smiled at Ed.

"I'm surprised that you haven't done anything about it." Doug said, and Ed deflated as he let out a breath.

"That's the thing, though." He said. "I don't really know what to do."

"What seems to be the problem?" Mary asked. 

"Izzy-Mr Hands-"

"You can call him Izzy." Mary said kindly, and Ed flashed her a grateful smile.

"Izzy thinks that my falling in love with Stede means that I'm no longer in love with him. And I don't know whether Stede could accept my being with Izzy as well as him. And Izzy and Stede don't get on, despite that fact that I think they would be really hot together, and all I want is to be with the both of them even though I don't know how it would work, and I don't have a fucking clue how to solve this!"

The room rang when Ed finished and sat back, panting. Mary and Doug looked at him, and then at each other. Finally, Mary set down her mug and reached over, taking one of Ed's hands in hers.

"Ed, I think that you need to talk to them."

Ed snorted. "I sincerely doubt that they'll listen to me. Especially Stede. He's so...proper."

Mary and Doug erupted into a fit of laughter, bad enough that they had to put down their own tea to be able to hold each other up. Ed sat there, feeling a bit stupid, as he watched the two of them cackle like hyaenas. 

When they finally finished, wiping their eyes, Ed was staring to look irritated. He stood up and snarled "If you're just going to laugh at me-"

"Ed, please sit down." Mary said. "We weren't laughing at you. Just...the idea that Stede is this prim and proper gentlemen who'll object to a less than usual arrangement? It's so stupid."

"How?" Ed asked slowly, cautiously, narrowing his eyes. 

"Ed, our marriage?" She grinned at Ed, her eyes sparkling. "It's complete and utter bullshit."

Ed looked stunned. He swayed where he sat, staring at Mary with huge eyes.

"It's a sham. Completely on paper. Not viable. Smoke in your eyes. Stede and I agreed that this is how it would be, if only to make sure that we were both safe."

"But...but..." Ed looked like he'd been shot. 

"We've had sex once. Once, Ed. It was the most uncomfortable experience in our entire lives. We only did it because Stede's bastard parents demanded we give them an heir. Thank god Alma took immediately."

Ed nodded slowly, and then frowned. "Hang on. If you've only had sex once, and you got Alma from it, then..." He turned to look at Doug, who gave him a sheepish grin. Ed suddenly recognised the dimple in the chin that he and Louis shared, the soft hair, although Louis' was more blond than anything. That sturdy, stocky frame that Louis was promised, already showing in the shoulders. 

"Stede knows. Louis is as much his son as he is Doug's. He loves that boy, and at the same time, he's perfectly happy for Doug to be an equal father." Mary said gently. She reached out and took Ed's hand gently. "I love Stede, but as a friend. My best friend. That's how we've made this work. I love him, and I love Doug. And whilst Doug doesn't want anything sexual to do with Stede-"

"No, thank you." Doug said quickly.

"They get on perfectly well. We all understand this relationship, this partnership. We've been completely honest with each other, and there are no secrets."

"And it works?" Ed asked in a small voice. 

"It works." Doug said. "It's all about honesty. Keeping secrets will only be breaking the trust you need in a relationship, particularly one where there are multiple partners. I think that if you're honest with the both of them, and encourage them to be honest with you, then you can make this work."

Ed sat back, feeling optimistic. He knew that this would be tricky, Izzy especially was hurting and feeling isolated, and he wondered how Stede would react to proposing a throuple. But he imagined, for a split second, all of them together. And he felt like having the idea of them was enough motivation to talk to both Izzy and Stede, and try to formulate something out of these feelings. 

He just hoped that Izzy and Stede were open enough to the possibility.

...

"And this is all your fucking fault!" Izzy snarled, the leather of the book him his hands creaking as he clutched it tightly. 

"Mr Hands-" Stede sputtered, holding up his hands. 

"You fucking...bewitched him!" Izzy positively shrieked, and threw the book at Stede. Stede ducked, and ignored the thud of the book hitting the wall behind him. "He was never like this with anyone else!"

"Izzy, I didn't-"

"And now he's with you. And he's not fucking thinking of looking back, because, somehow," Izzy sneered at Stede, who flushed with both shame and a small feeling of accomplishment. "He's happy with you."

"Izzy, please!" Stede said, sounding desperate. Izzy watched as he moved slowly closer, hands out and up, like he was being held hostage. "I didn't do anything. Ed just...responded to his job, and he does seem to like being a little...softer."

"Soft doesn't keep you safe." Izzy said through gritted teeth. "Soft is dangerous. He'll soon be too addled to watch his back."

"Soft can be of some benefit." Stede said gently, but Izzy was too angry to properly listen to him. He turned and stared out of the window, at the inky blackness that covered the sky. He did everything he could to ignore the tears in his eyes. This was neither the time nor the place for his weakness, and he didn't want to give Bonnet more ammunition against him. 

"Look, Ed seems to be happy. Isn't that a good thing? That's he's finally relaxing, becoming more...himself? He can be that, and still be with you-"

"DON'T you fucking say that!" Izzy whirled around and stalked towards Stede, coming close enough to back Stede into his own bookcase. He grabbed Stede's neckerchief and held it tightly, snarling into his face. "You have no idea! None! You swan about in your fancy silks and deliberate obliviousness, and have no clue about what real people struggle about. You've fucking...enticed Ed into believing that he can have this life with you, with no cares, and that he can forget anything that came before!"

"Izzy-" Stede said softly, resting a hand on the back of Izzy's. The glove on Izzy's right hands creaked, and Stede stroked the knuckles of the other with his thumb, caressing even harder when, unbeknownst to Izzy, he saw a tear trickle down his face. 

"I've lost him." Izzy whispered into Stede's face, furious and heartbroken. "I've lost him, and I've lost the Mission. And it's all your fucking fault."

"Izzy, I swear. Ed can still be with you, I promise. I-"

"Don't." Izzy said. He released Stede and back away, the expression on his face almost sending Stede to the floor. In all his life, he'd never seen such an expression of devastation. It looked like Izzy was losing his own soul. 

"You won. I can't give him what he wants. And you won, and you didn't even need to do anything."

Stede reached out, but Izzy whirled around and stormed out of the office. Stede was left standing there in the waning candlelight, and now, finally alone with the weight of everything on his shoulders, he finally slumped down into his chair, put his head in his hands, and burst into tears. 

The tension had to break some time. Everyone in the house was feeling it. The children were subdued, glancing around like they were looking for answers no one could give. The Crew continued their duties, glancing from Ed to Izzy and back again with confused expressions and, when they could get away with it, glaring at Stede. Izzy walked around with a carefully blank expression, and Ed looked like he was being regularly told someone had died. 

Therefore, 5 days later after that argument in the office that seemed to echo through the house, Fang burst into the kitchen looking panicked, it almost seemed like a welcome relief. Finally, something was happening!

That was, until he told them why he was so panicked. "Alma's trying to go to the village!"

Everyone froze, and stared at him. Finally, Roach asked in a croaky voice, "How?"

"She took Tugboat! She said that she's sick of being in the house, and needed to be free!"

"That fucking donkey?" Frenchie whimpered, salty about being bitten a week ago by the furious animal. 

"And you didn't stop her?!" Jim said, standing up. 

"She was already out of the gate!"

Izzy and Ed shared a look, and then bolted out of the kitchen. They reached the stables, the rest of the Crew behind them, and saw that Stede was already tacking up Revenge, who was tossing her head at the atmosphere. Despite everything that had happened between them, Izzy couldn't help but feel for the man. The naked terror and worry on his face was too genuine to be able to fake.

"Izzy, tack up Queen Anne. We can ride together." Ed said, and Izzy fell into the mindspace of being Ed's No.2. This was what he was good at. As Queen Anne was being led out, Izzy picked up her saddle and rug, buckling her in as Ed put on her halter. But the time they had finished, Stede was already on Revenge, allowing the horse to stamp her feet. 

"Which path did she take, Fang?" Stede asked, his voice shaking with worry.

"That's the thing, Lord Bonnet." Fang said, panting. Ed climbed onto Queen Anne, and reached down a hand to pull Izzy up behind him. Izzy quickly slotted himself against Ed and wrapped his arms around his waist. "She's not on the village path."

Everyone froze. "Where did she go?"

Fang started to weep. "It's dark, and she's was confused. Tugboat didn't want to go anywhere, but she was so bloody minded that she made him move."

"Fang!" Izzy cried out. "Where did she go?!"

"She went to the cliffs. She's going to go over, and it's so dark she can't see the path!"

The silence was oppressive. For a moment, Ed, Izzy and Stede felt crushed by the weight of their horror. Those cliffs were notorious for coming out of nowhere and having a 80 foot drop onto razor sharp rocks. A person who went over was almost guaranteed to die. 

And Alma was heading straight towards them. 

Stede immediately nudged Revenge, and she shot out of the stables, Queen Anne following close behind. Izzy, slightly surprised, clung to Ed and wondered how Stede was able to see at all. There were clouds covering the normally starry sky, and Ed seemed to be simply following Stede. 

Ed couldn't say how long they rode for. His eyes ached and his fingers twitched on the reins, and the feeling of Izzy clamped to his back did nothing to quell his fear. He could see Alma up ahead, and she was riding Tugboat far too close to the edge. She clearly had no idea about how close she was. He could smell her frustration and her tears, and his heart broke for her.

Stede, meanwhile, was riding simply by feel. He'd ridden by these cliffs his entire life, and he hoped that he could be able to remember where the edge was before any of them got into an accident. Keeping himself upright, he scanned the darkness for any glimpse of his daughter or Tugboat, but got nothing. His panic growing, he looked back towards Ed and Izzy, following close behind.

"I can't see her!" He cried out. Izzy, hearing the panic, looked over Ed's shoulder. 

"Fuck, we can't see a fucking thing." He muttered. Despite everything, he didn't want anything bad to happen to Bonnet, and he especially didn't want Alma to be hurt.

Or worse, killed. 

Ed, realising what was needed, looked up at the clouds and sighed deeply. His right hands twitched, and then the clouds disappeared. It almost looked like someone had blown them away. The stars and the bright moonlight lit up the world. 

In hindsight, this proved to be both a blessing and a curse. One the plus side, they could now see Alma and Tugboat, galloping furiously in front of them. Alma was still in her day dress, but her hair was loose and they could now hear her tears of frustration and anger.

And the downside, they could see how close she was to the edge of the cliffs. Stede gave a small gasp, and kicked Revenge to get closer. 

"ALMA!" He cried out. "You've got to get away!"

"NO! I want to get to the village!" Alma yelled over her shoulder, but, as she looked to her side and realised that she could see over the edge of the cliff, she gasped. Despite everything, she was scared. 

What happened next would play over in the minds of everyone for the rest of their lives. Stede had just managed to catch up on the other side of Alma, cutting her off from the edge. He reached over and grabbed the edge of her dress, just as Tugboat reared in panic. Stede managed to lift her off as Tugboat bolted forwards, but the weight difference in turn caused Revenge to start. She also reared, and Stede, feeling himself slipping, used his strength to throw Alma away from the cliffs. 

However, in leaning to the side to throw Alma, he overcorrected, and, as Alma flew onto the grass, he felt himself slipping from Revenge's saddle. Arms suddenly swinging wildly, Stede fell off of Revenge, bounced, and then, horrifyingly, slipped over the edge of the cliff. He yelled in panic, and scrabbled frantically. His fingernails grabbed into the clays surface, and he managed to stop his fall. But he knew that he was on borrowed seconds. 

At the same time as Revenge, feeling her rider fall, bolted in the direction Tugboat had gone, Ed cried out as he saw Alma roll into his direction. "FUCKING SHIT!" He swore and Queen Anne jumped over the girl, who whimpered and curled up into a ball. As Queen Anne landed and galloped a few feet, Izzy, who's balance was already precarious (he was not, and had never been, a confident rider), felt himself jolt out of his hold. 

"Ed-" He cried out, and ducked and rolled as he hit the ground. Unfortunately, as he rolled to stop his forward momentum, he rolled right off the edge. The lack of ground under him made him jolt, and like Stede, he scrabbled for a hold. He was fortunate that there was a branch protruding from the cliffs, which he managed to grab on his way down. He hung there, sweating and trying not to kick his legs, and bit back a sound when he heard the branch start to snap. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Stede, also holding on to the cliff face, and in the back of him mind, he wondered which one of them Ed was going to save.

Ed slowed down Queen Anne and jumped off. Alma was at the edge, trying desperately ro reach down to Stede. But Stede was too far down, and he was yelling at her to get away from the edge. 

"GET AWAY, DARLING!" He cried out.

"PAPA, PLEASE REACH!" Alma screamed back, tears streaking down her face. She reached down frantically, but Stede was too nervous to release a hand from the tumbling clay cliff face. 

Ed stood in the middle, alternatively looking towards Stede, trying to reassure his daughter, and then to where Izzy was, whose sweat-panic smell was increasing as the branch continued to snap.

"I...I don't..." Ed said, trying not to panic. 

They only had seconds left. Perhaps a couple of minutes. Too late to pull both over. Barely enough to pull over one. 

If he could reach at all. 

As he was, he was less than useless. 

"Ed..." He heard Izzy trail off, and heard the branch snap further. Alma turned to look at him.

"SAVE THEM! DO SOMETHING!" She screamed. 

As he was, he couldn't do anything. He would lose both men that he loved. As he was.

As he was...

He would still lose the both of them. But at least they would be alive. 

Alma reached down again, trying to reach her father. She whispered nonsense to herself, and thought that her world was ending. She missed as the world quietened, as the breeze seemed to still, as the very air suddenly smelt even more of brine and salt. 

"ALMA, GET AWAY FROM THE EDGE." A voice said. Alma felt as if her bones reverberated and, choosing to listen to the commanding tone, shuffled away. 

Stede felt the clay crumble under his finger and blinked back tears. He prayed to whatever benevolent god was listening for the safety of his family, and his servants, and everyone whom he loved. He was so focused on praying that he nearly missed the tentacle creeping over the edge. He stopped speaking mid-sentence, and watched as the appendage, as thick as his forearm and a dusky purple with bright purple circles, encircled his waist. He could feel it's suckers stick to his skin though his shirt, and he let out a hysterical giggle. The tentacle, now secure in its hold, lifted him up and over the cliff without any sign of strain, and Stede settled onto his feet, swaying slightly.

"Papa!" Alma cried out and slammed into his waist, wrapping her arms around him and babbling apologies. She patted her head ideally, watching as a second tentacle came up cradling Izzy. Izzy in turn was frozen solid in panic, his eyes fixed on the tentacle. He was set on the ground where he collapsed to his knees, panting over the grass. Stede watched as he looked at the retreating tentacles.

And then he looked at Ed. And he felt his blood go cold. 

This was not the Ed he knew. And loved. 

This was...an abomination.

Oh, the top half was Ed. Or at least an approximation of him. His dark brown skin was glistening slightly, as if damp. He had abandoned his shirt, and his tattoos, which Stede had always so admired, were starkly black. Ed's long hair, which had been neatly braided back, was now loose and wild. And his beard, which had always been clipped close to his face, was now reaching down his chest. 

In the darkness of the sky, Stede could see that there was now a mass of tentacles, writhing around. One of them reached out towards Stede and then retreated, sensing Stede's horror. 

"What...are you?" Stede whispered. He couldn't see Ed properly, but he could sense the sorrowful expression on his face.

"Stede..." Ed whispered. He turned, looking at Izzy, and felt his heart break.

He'd never seen such an expression of fear and loathing on Izzy's face. And he had never, in his wildest dreams, wanted it to be directed at him. 

"Izzy..." Ed whimprerd and reached out a hand towards him. But, in a move that made his own heart break, he watched as Izzy flinched backwards. He drew himself away from Ed, face twisting. 

"Monster." Izzy whispered. 

The world seemed to stand still. Ed could feel tears streak down his face. The two men he loved, looking at him with such naked fear and horror? It was too much for one person to bear. He suddenly moved forwards, ignoring as Izzy and Stede moved away, and threw himself over the cliff, casting himself into the sea. 

The splash was the only sound in a silent world. Stede and Izzy looked at each other, and knew that they would never be the same again. 

Chapter Text

Neither Izzy nor Stede would be able to tell anyone exactly how they got back to the house. The horses and that blasted donkey had wandered back on their own, and Stede, Izzy and Alma had staggered back a hour later, all of them with expressions on their faces that no one could properly describe. 

Hell, Stede and Izzy couldn't describe what they were feeling either. 

When they came back, the morning light was creeping over the cliffs. Stede had an arm wrapped around Alma's shoulders, who was shaking and occasionally muttering "No, no," under her breath. Stede was deliberately taking in very deep, even breaths. 

Izzy didn't display any kind of emotion at all. Which was enough of an indication of his mood. 

The minute they came in the sight of the mansion, Mary burst out of the door, screaming Alma's name. When she saw her mother, she burst into tears and ran towards her, allowing herself to be scolded furiously whilst Mary kissed her face. Stede, his arms empty, turned to Izzy and reached out a hand. 

But Izzy flinched. It was a tiny movement, but he saw Stede's hand and sharply moved away. 

"Mr Hands..." Stede whispered. Izzy briefly looked at his face and, his blank face not moving, he strode past Stede, Mary, Alma, and everyone else crowding the door frame. Stede watched him disappear, and started to shake. 

"What happened?" Doug asked, coming over and putting a hand on Stede's shoulder. "Where's Ed?"

Stede found he couldn't say a thing. He looked at Doug, at his family and his beloved staff, and then, remembering the last look on Ed's face before he disappeared (sorrow. Bone deep sorrow, the likes of which you can never properly recover from), he bent over and vomited spectacularly onto the ground. 

...

"No, no. You're lying." Jim said, shaking their head. They looked horrified, and glanced around at everyone. The Crew shared similar expressions of disbelief, and even anger at Stede, who was sitting at the kitchen table. He had a cup of tea at his elbow, heavily imbued with whisky, and he was trying to explain exactly what had happened without flying off the handle at the deception. 

"I assure you," Stede said, his voice a little shaky but a current of ice underneath. Now the shock was wearing off, he was starting to feel angry. 

Angry at the Crew for hiding this from him. Angry at Izzy for being complicit. 

Furious at Ed for deciding him. 

Hatred at himself for falling for it all. 

"I witnessed it. Alma witnessed it. Mr Hands witnessed it. I am not making this up.

"Ed is an Old God."

The silence rung in the kitchen. The atmosphere, which had started as abject disbelief and the idea that this was a horrible joke, was starting to turn. 

"My Lord," Oluwande asked cautiously, "it was very dark-"

"If one more person tries to tell me what I supposedly didn't see, I'm going the fire the lot of you." Stede snarled. He slammed a hand on the table, ignoring the sting, and watched as everyone flinched. "I might just do that, considering that you've been hiding this little salient fact from me! YOU PUT MY CHILDREN IN DANGER!"

"We didn't know!" Roach said, looking horrified. "We would NEVER have put the children in danger." Archie nodded her head frantically, looking almost in tears. 

"We swear!" Ivan looked to Fang. Aside from Izzy, they had been with Ed the longest, and had never got any indication that he was anything other than human. "Look, if there had even been a hint at Ed being a...what he-"

"A monster." Stede said bluntly. Everyone flinched, including Stede, but he rallied himself. 

"We would have left." Fang finished softly. "None of us would have stayed with him if he revealed what he was at any point."

"We couldn't...live with ourselves, if we'd known." Frenchie added, and everyone nodded.

"There is a reason we didn't follow our previous household into the Void." Wee John whispered. Stede looked at him sharply, and Wee John met his eyes. There was a searching moment, and Stede looked from him, to Black Pete comforting Lucius, to everyone seemingly huddled together and absorbing this news. 

"Can you swear, on your own personal honours, that you didn't know that Ed was a...Old God? Can you promise, on your lives and immortal souls, that you had no idea about his...proclivities, his deception, his true nature?" Stede said, leaning forward and fixing all of them with sharp eyes. 

Everyone nodded, looking at each other. Under the table, Oluwande gripped Jim and Archie's hands and squeezed. 

"We promise." He finally said softly. Stede sat back slowly and finally took a gulp of his tea, wincing at the cold and whisky burn. 

"Then, if you're telling the truth, you have the assurance that my wife and Doug will continue to provide housing and payment until you decide to move on." He said. "We will not hold what happened against you all, if you're telling the truth."

"Thank you, my Lord." Black Pete finally said, sounding a bit teary. Everyone deflated a bit, thankful that at least they still had their jobs. They looked at each other, trading small smiles despite the terrible news tugging at their minds. 

"I will...try and inform Mr Hands." Stede said softly and stood up. Everyone tensed and looked around, before Lucius, of all people, stood up. 

"I don't think he'll want to see anyone." He said cautiously, and Stede gave him a small, grim smile. 

"I think that, after everything, he might wan to hear that his job is secure."

"Yeah, it's not his job that I think he's worrying about." Lucius' voice was sharp, and Stede felt himself flinch slightly at the insinuation. 

"I know." Stede said softly. "I still want to reassure him." With that, he turned and walked to the staff quarters, eventually standing in front of Izzy's door and knocking softly. 

"Mr Hands? It's Lord Bonnet. May I talk with you?"

There wasn't a noise. Stede let out a slow breath and leant his forehead against the door. "Mr Hands, I'd like an answer please."

Nothing. Stede felt a tear trickle down his face and he closed his eyes. "I just want to reassure you that I believe that you didn't...know anything. And that your job and that of your Crew is safe. Mary, Doug and I will support you all, in the wake of this..."

The despair coming from Izzy's room was terrible. Stede felt this throat close up, and he allowed himself to cry more. "I'm so sorry, Izzy. I'm so very, very sorry."

Stede turned and walked to the stairs, weighed down by the weight of this new knowledge, and the terrible feeling of betrayal, horror and all-encompassing heartache. He went to see his family, the Crew talking in stuttered words in the kitchen. 

None of them missed the scream of agony coming from Izzy's room, muffled into a pillow.

No person was meant to endure that much betrayal and loss. 

And yet, Izzy suffered. 

It was almost hilarious how bad the timing was, how everything came together after such an event was tearing the household apart. Stede chose to focus on his family, and making sure that Alma recovered from their encounter. Indeed, she seemed to have bounced back the very next day, talking about her lessons and looking after the horses. It didn't escape Stede that, occasionally, she would look out of the window at the direction of the sea with a completely white face.

Izzy, on the other hand, seemed to completely disappear. He was unfailingly polite, never rude or answered back, but if he wasn't actually asked for, he would fade away before anyone could stop him. No more bantering with Mary, no more talking softly with the children when they asked him questions about London, or his past (what little he would tell), or whatever would go through their minds. 

No more evenings with Stede, arguing back and forth. 

The household, which had been a lively, somewhat happy place to be, became like a ghost mansion. Everyone wandered around in a state of shock, not quite knowing what to say or think. 

Ed had robbed them of their security, their sense of safety. For that, the anger towards him grew and grew. 

However, life carried on, and it came for the household in the worst way. 5 days after that terrible night, the doorbell rang. When Stede, closest to the door, opened, his face froze when he saw both his parents and Mary's stating there, surrounded by their trunks and looking expectant. 

"What...what?" He said. His mother tutted and strode forward, snapping her fingers in his face. 

"You knew we were coming, Stede." She said. His father and in-laws followed him, looking around the mansion with twin expressions of envy and greed. "It's time."

Stede suddenly felt faint. He gripped the door and swayed where he stood. "Oh god." He whispered. His father slapped him on the shoulder.

"There's no point trying to avoid this, boy." His father rumbled. Stede felt like a little boy in front of him, powerless to do anything. "You've know this was coming ever since that girl was born."

"We need to prepare!" His mother said brightly, and then turned, spotting Black Pete and Frenchie coming from the downstairs kitchen. "You, servants!" She snapped her fingers at them. "Take our bags to our rooms!"

Mary's parents followed his own, twittering like the mindless birds that Stede had always thought they were. How they made a woman like Mary, Stede would never know. Stede heard a gasp, and looked up the stairs. Mary was standing on the landing, looking at the intruders and being her lip. She met Stede's eyes and they shared a look of sorrow and pain. 

"Mary!" Her mother said shrilly, fixing a ghastly smile on her face and holding out her arms. "Come down here and greet your parents! Bring your daughter, she needs to begin preparing!"

Mary didn't move. She was frozen at the top of the stairs, and Stede could see his in-laws faces start to turn into anger. Stede had always thought them as unpleasant as his own. 

Mary didn't want to move, but Alma, escaping from the nursery, poked her head out from behind Mary. Stede's mother, seeing her granddaughter, stepped forward, knocking Black Pete and Frenchie out of the way without a thought. "Darling!" She cooed. Alma came down the stairs and allowed herself to be hugged.

"Grandmother, you came!" She said. 

"Of course, Alma." Stede's father said, patting Alma's head like a dig. "Your birthday is a special event. Everything must be perfect!"

Mary, who had come down the stairs, reached over and gripped Stede's hand tightly. They watched in numb horror as their daughter was swallowed up by her grandparents, each one talking about the upcoming birthday celebrations. Alma sounded excited and enthusiastic, and it broke her parent's hearts listening to her.

"We...oh god, Stede." Mary whispered. "What the fuck do we do?"

"I don't know." Stede whispered back, watching his little girl talk excitedly about her upcoming celebrations. 

The Crew, for their part, huddled at the top of the stairs to the lower kitchen and watched as Stede and Mary lost themselves to their despair. They wandered about why Alma turning 13 was so terrible, what this meant for the wider household. And they already knew that the parents of the Lady and Lord were going to grate something awful on their nerves. 

That night, Stede, dressed in only his nightshirt and a pair of trousers, knocked on Mary's bedroom door and went in when she said so. He saw Mary, eyes red, cradled in Doug's arms. Stede sat by her side and took her hand, kissing the back of it. 

"I don't think we can stop this." He said, and Mary's face crumbled. She tucked her head against Doug's neck, and sobbed softly. 

"Can...maybe if Alma knew beforehand-" Doug tried. 

"I will not burden my daughter with the knowledge of what is going to happen in her name!" Stede snapped, and then felt immediately guilty when Doug reared back. He whispered his apologies, and they all sat together, feeling the oppressiveness of their situation. 

"At least..." Mary whispered, sniffling. Doug offered her a handkerchief, and she blew her nose. "At least she's alone. We did give her that much."

"No friends. No socialisation. No idea of the world outside of this mansion." Stede gave a grim smile. "Yes, we've been such good parents."

"We've been protecting her!" Doug said. Mary and Stede allowed this, he'd been there since Alma had been a small baby. He truly was the third parent, and he loved those children like his own. "The Ceremony will be fucked if we've done our job properly."

"We may have just doomed everyone in this house, but yes," Mary said sarcastically, "we've done our job properly."

"I'd rather we were successful than have..." Stede trailed off, and the three of them sat in silence, wondering out the future. Alma turned 13 in a week, and they could only hope that everything they had done for their daughter, for their son, for their entire house and bloodline, had been a success. 

Therefore, when they all arrived at breakfast the next morning and saw Alma sitting next to a girl with flaming red hair and a carefully darned woollen dress, Mary actually swayed where she stood. 

"Alma, darling?" She asked, trying to keep her voice bright and airy with her and Stede's parents watching her. "Who is this?"

Alam turned to the girl, who gave her a small smile and then faced her parents, her face both smug and defiant. "This is Sarah-Lee Jenkins, from the village. She's here at my invitation." Alma then turned to the girl, and held her hand, squeezing it tightly with nerves and gave her a blinding grin. "She's my best friend."

There as a moment when Doug, whilst also reeling from the news, was holding both Mary and Stede up as they swayed with combined horror and sorrow. Alma looked at them, confusion flashing across her face as she watched her parents try not to fall apart. Beside her, Sarah-Lee looked at her, wrinkling her nose in confusion and causing her freckles to scrunch up. 

"Alma, darling?" Mary finally said, sounding shaky. She walked over and set a hand on her daughter's shoulder, looking at Sarah-Lee with a complicated expression. "How did this happen?"

"I've been going to the village." Alma was triumphant, and, in their horror, they didn't notice the Crew that was in the room freeze in panic. But Alma was a good little conspirator, and didn't rat them out. "I met Sarah-Lee, and we've become really close."

"Your daughter is lovely, Lady Bonnet." Sarah-Lee said softly, giving Mary a small smile. Unable to help herself, Mary pressed a kiss to her forehead, closing her eyes against the tears. Stede was glaring at his parents and in-laws sitting at the head of the table, unable to help himself. His father was glaring at him, bending his fork in his anger, whilst his silly bitch of a mother was looking at Mary trying not to fall apart and smiling. 

"Sit down, Stede. This is wondrous news!" His mother in law twittered, snapping her fingers at Jim to pour some tea. "I was worried that Alma would have no one for the Ceremony, but she has! And it's a girl from the village!"

"Mother, shut up." Mary hissed, sending her mother such a vicious glare that her mother stared at her.

"Boy." His father rumbled, and Stede, conditioned since childhood to obey that tone, slid into a chair and resisted the urge to bury his head in his hands. Doug, recognising that he couldn't sit at the table like he usually could, went to stand by Frenchie, Oluwande and Izzy, who were sneaking glances at the family in confusion. This was NOT what they were used to, and Izzy in particular was feeling distinctly out of sorts, even more so than usual. 

Not having the correct information, knowing that he was in a situation blind, was wearing on his nerves in the worst way. 

That day seemed to grow the tension. Mary and Stede were sidelined as their parents took over, and watched helplessly as a grand party was planned, and Sarah-Lee was welcomed into the fold with an almost manic glee. Invitations were sent out to fellow children of the same social sphere, Wee John was ordered to sew one of Alma's old formal dresses to fit Sarah-Lee (whom Mary and Stede were becoming very fond of, and which was breaking their hearts), and, by the evening, Alma had been completely swayed to her grandparents side by the promise of her birthday in 6 days time. 

That evening, as Izzy, for the first time in days, walked into the office, he saw Stede slumped into a chair, covering his face with his hand and with an already drunk glass of whisky at his elbow. 

"What the fuck was that?" Izzy asked, closing the door and crossing his arms. Stede stirred, and looked at Izzy. Izzy concealed his surprise at Stede's face, at his already bloodshot eyes and the way he swayed as he tried to sit upright. 

"Are you so intend on punishing your daughter for some made up transgression that you-"

"You have no fucking idea what's about to happen!" Stede snarled at him, pushing himself out of his chair and staggering to Izzy, putting an uneven figure in his face. "You don't know what we've done! You don't know what we've deprived my daughter off, punished her, made her miserable because the alternative would break her heart!" Stede let out a terribly shaky laugh and ran a hand over his face, tears starting in his eyes. "And we fucking failed. We tried everything, and somehow, she made a friend anyway. And she's about to be destroyed."

Izzy, feeling something other than numbness for the first time in days, reached out and took Stede's elbow. He guided Stede back into the chair, as the man himself alternated between sobbing and pitiful laughing. 

"If...if you told me what's about to happen," Izzy said softly, trying not to panic. He really didn't like being left in the dark. "We could...the Crew and I could so something."

"Oh Izzy." Stede said softly, and looked at Izzy with such despair in his eyes that Izzy felt sick. "There's nothing we can do. The wheels are turning, and now, we just have to be there for Alma."

The day of Alma's birthday, 6 days after the grandparents invaded the mansion and turned the household upside down, happened on a gloriously sunny and warm day. That morning, Doug held Mary's hair back as she vomited into her bedpan, and Stede, now used to dressing himself, broke down in his wardrobe and sobbed into his yellow dressing gown. By the time he had finished and dressed himself in his best teal jacket, Alma was in her mother's room, showing off her and Sarah-Lee's dresses. Alma was dressed in blue, looking like an angel, and Sarah-Lee, in what nearly made Mary burst in accompanying tears, was wearing a bright red dress. They looked like mirrors of each other, and Mary and Stede shared a despairing look over their heads. 

All through the morning, young girls and boys arrived, all dressed in their finest and all bearing carefully wrapped gifts. The Crew, who were as polished as the furniture and equally as wooden in their movements, watched as the Bonnets played the part of gracious hosts, welcoming each of the arriving families with empty smiles and hollow eyes. Alma was on her very best behaviour, and Sarah-Lee was copying her carefully, curtsying with increasing grace. Between arrivals, Alma would grip her hand and grin at her. 

"This is the best day!" Alma said, when everyone had arrived and was mingling in the main study and dining room where a magnificent feast was being brought out. Sarah-Lee smiled at her.

"I love it already!" She whispered back. She didn't see the grandparents, all four of them, looking at her with smiles that showed too many teeth. 

Throughout the day, the Crew watched as the upper class of Dorset snubbed them and pandered to their spoiled brats. When it was time for present opening, Alma insisted that Sarah-Lee sit by her side, and one of the other little girls (a Miss Graves of Poole, who had arrived with her own maidservant and a nose so upturned she was looking at the ceiling) let out a screech and stamped her foot. 

She would have continued, but Roach (who was supervising the food) and Archie fixed her with such a hard stare that she subsided and was quiet as a mouse for the rest of the day. 

Throughout the day, as presents were unwrapped, games were carefully played (no one wanted to get their clothes dirty) and a magnificent mid-afternoon lunch was eaten, the Crew and Izzy could see Stede, Mary and Doug frantically whispering between events. Each time something new happened, they were overly-enthusiatic in their participation, trying to extend the occasion for as long as possible. Stede tried to make a game of tag last until the everyone was out, and was left with Sarah-Lee staring at him oddly. Mary, during the presents opening, had instructed Alma to carefully open the presents so as to preserve the paper, rather than tear through them. She framed it so as Alma to act like a lady, but her mother had grabbed her arm and, in a sickly sweet voice, had told Mary to let Alma do what she wanted. 

"After all, it is her special day!" She had intoned. Mary had subsided, and Doug, once again playing servant, had quickly pressed a hand to her lower back as he passed with a tray of little sweets. 

It was almost like a farce, or a comedy. And indeed, watching the Lord and Lady scramble around children so snooty would have been hilarious, if the panic on their faces when they thought no one was looking wasn't so obvious. At one point, Izzy, who had spent the day supervising the Crew and dodging small children who, because he was a servant, simply didn't see him, looked into the study to see Mary bent over in a chair, having a panic attack. Stede was gripping her hand and rubbing her back, guiding her through it. They both looked up at Izzy, looking pale and drawn. 

"A cup of tea, perhaps, my Lady?" Izzy offered softly, and Mary nodded. 

"Thank you, Mr Hands." She whispered back. 

At the culmination of the feast, Roach, looking pleased a punch, brought out his masterpiece. A massive 40 orange cake, delicately frosted and swirled with buttercream. Alma clapped her hands in delight, her new necklace from her parents (a small, star shaped diamond pendant on a delicate diamond chain) winking in the candlelight.

"Happy Birthday, Alma!" Stede's mother cooed at her. 

"Yes, this is the start of your adulthood." His father said, the words rumbling through the air. "Make sure you do right by the family."

"Thank you, Grandfather." Alma said and closed her eyes, blowing out the candles. Everyone clapped and she quickly got her slice, nudging Sarah-Lee with her shoulder and handing her a fork. 

"You can share with me." Alma said smiling, and Stede abruptly left the room, unable to hold back tears. Izzy watched him go, something unpleasant starting to curdle in his stomach. 

This was...Izzy looked at the rest of the Crew, and watched as expressions started to minutely change on their faces. 

Something felt like it was about to go terribly wrong. 

Throughout the afternoon, the Crew would exchange worried glances. They had never been to an upperclass Childs birthday party, but even so, the attitudes of Stede, Mary and Doug were confusing. There was no celebration, no joy at their daughter becoming 13. All they saw, beneath the careful smiles and the worried glances, was fear. 

And this scared the Crew to no end. 

As the afternoon wound down, and the sugar high children were shepherded back to their carriages, the parents giving empty platitudes and thanks to Lord and Lady Bonnet Sr and Mary's parents, Izzy watched as Mary and Stede got more and more anxious. They would be staring out of the windows, wringing their hands, and then talking together, heads bent, sharing worried breath. 

When the last child had left, Alma slumped down onto the sofa in the parlour, letting out a breath. Beside her, Sarah-Lee laid her head on Alma's shoulder, and Alma giggled in exhaustion. Louis, who had spent the entire day in a feeling of discontent and sulkiness at being left out of most things, climbed up beside Alma.

"That was a good day." Alma whispered to herself. Stede, who was standing by the door watching his children, saw his parents move forward out of the corner of his eyes. He tightened his grip on the doorframe and walked into the room, determined to get to Alma, Sarah-Lee and Louis before his parents. 

"Are you very tired?" He asked. Alma nodded, her eyes closing briefly. "Then maybe, Archie can draw you a bath-"

"You know damn well that the day isn't over, Stede." His father intoned from the door, and Stede froze, his hand reaching towards his daughter.

"You're in my house," Stede started to say, low, over his shoulder, towards his father. He aura of simple loathing coming from him was enough to make Sarah-Lee, Alma and Louis huddle together, and Stede would have carried on, his fear throughout the day and paranoia that had been building for a long time (ever since he cradled Alma in his hands and looking into her tiny, scrunched up face) making his carefully held temper start to snap. 

But he couldn't continue, because the banging on the door stopped him. His mother, who had been starting at the children with very wide eyes and a manic smile, jumped and then, looking through the windows by the door to see who it was, cooed and opened the door. Stede gripped the back of the sofa to keep himself upright when he saw the group of men walk into the house. The man at the front, a tall thin man, completely bald and with pale grey eyes, looked at Stede and gave him a soft smile.

There was nothing kind behind that smile. Louis, who was watching everything, whimpered and buried his face into Alma's shoulder, hugging her arm. 

"I see that you have prospered, Stede Bonnet." The man said, and Stede felt something squeak out of his throat. But he couldn't move, cold ice flooding his veins. His mother (that foolish bitch) was twittering around him, touching his arm and leading him to the dining room where there was still food. 

"Papa..."Alma whispered, and Stede closed his eyes. A touch on his arm made him jump, but it was only his wife, whose eyes were similarly filled with horror. 

"They're here." Stede croaked out, and as one, they turned to look at Alma and Sarah-Lee, shared despair on their faces. 

They didn't have long to wait. Soon, Stede's father herded them into the dining room, and the family, Louis abandoning all pretence of propriety and clinging to Mary fiercely, stood in front of the men, who were all sitting with plates of food and smug smiles. The Crew, all of them, were lined up against the back wall, and Izzy in particular was shooting the family confused looks.

"It is time." The lead man said. His voice was silky smooth and cold, and Alma, despite it being her birthday, shivered. 

"I will not allow-" Mary started to say, and the man looked at her cooly.

"If you do not, the whole family will be destroyed. Do you want that, Mary Bonnet?" He asked. The question hung in the air, and for a moment, it felt as if there was a great weight pressing down on all of them. 

"Are the robes ready?" One of the group, similarly bald as his leader, looked at the servants. Wee John stepped forwards. 

"I have made them, to the instructions that were sent by the previous Lord and Lady." He said, looking at Stede's parents. His mother and Mary's actually clapped their hands, and immediately withdrew to their bedrooms to change. 

"Then divest yourselves, put them on, and follow us." The leader of the group stood up, and seemed to glide out of the room. 

"Us too?" Izzy stepped forwards to ask, and he didn't shiver those pale blue eyes latched on to him. But it was a near thing. 

"All of this household must witness Alma Bonnet come into her adulthood properly." He gave Alma a small smile, and then left.

There was nothing anyone could do. They all retreated to their room, and dressed in the expertly tailored robes that Wee John had made them. The robes themselves were beautifully done, consisting of a simple ankle length shift with a v-neck and wide sleeves, with an attached series of long lapels in the front that could close at the waist and neck and a hood on the back. The back of the robe was double stitched with cloth, keeping it heavy and warm. It was roomy and comfortable, and, as Izzy slid it over his head, made him feel deeply unsettled. 

When they had gathered in front of the house, as instructed in a bark by Stede's father, and Izzy noted in the corner of his eye, that the family had gold threading on the edge their robes, around the edge of the hood and the bottom. Everyone was barefoot, and shuffling. Somehow, however, Alma was giggling with Sarah-Lee, who was twirling in her robes.

"We now walk to the Temple, and commence the Ceremony." The leader of the men said, and his tone and way of speaking finally clued Izzy in, and he realised in an uncomfortable way, that this man was a Priest. 

The Temple was perhaps half a kilometre away, by the nearest edge of the cliffs. The Crew had clocked it within the first week. It wasn't unknown that noble and rich families would have a temple dedicated to their Gods, and would worship there occasionally. Usually the family had their own priests and acolytes within their household, but travelling groups weren't uncommon. 

It had made them all wonder, why the Bonnet family had never gone to the Temple. On top of there many things that made the family so different, they couldn't fathom why the family chose not to honour their God. 

The walk to the Temple was odd. Izzy kept with the Crew at the back, all of them exchanging increasingly confused glances. Stede and Mary walked in front of them, whispering together. Izzy could hear Mary saying "...could just grab them and run. We could just go, get as far as far away as possible. We can do it, Stede."

"Mary," Stede said, sounding exhausted. "Alma and Sarah-Lee are in the front. We couldn't get to them if we wanted to, not without being stopped. It's too late."

Mary started to sob openly, and she buried her head into Stede's shoulder. Stede wrapped an arm around her and kept walking. Doug, carrying Louis and walking with the servants, was giving off shaky, barely contained breaths.

Their parents were in front of them, the wives wittering about the increasing money they were expecting, planning shopping sprees and what new china they wanted to buy. The men were doing the same, but their talk was of investments and, when they saw that their wives were occupied, what they wanted to buy for their mistresses. 

Leading them all were the group of priests and acolytes. All of them in white, walking in complete synchronicity and silence, being lead by the Head Priest, his head gleaming under the setting sun. Alma and Sarah-Lee held hands in the middle and giggled. 

The tension was unbearable.

They all entered the Temple, which had already been light with large candles across the walls. The acolytes, all of them starting to sway as whatever the was going to happen came quicker and quicker, guided the family to kneel on the hard marble floor. Alma pulled a face, and, as the Crew were shepherded to the back of the room and knelt down, he saw Mary's body shake with sobs. Despite the apparent joy Alma was radiating, Louis, who had been taken from Doug to kneel beside his mother, was giving off tiny whimpers of combined confusion and fear, and Sarah-Lee, who was still a complete stranger, was staring around in confusion. 

The Bonnet family, all in a line, knelt in the middle of the room, and the grandparents, all of them smiling and whispering about the new increase in income this Ceremony was guaranteed, knelt at one side. Stede, in a small moment between the horror, noted that they had been given plush cushions for their knees, when he could already feel the bruises forming on his. He gripped Mary's hand and looked to his side, where Alma was leaning, looking at Sarah-Lee with a wide grin.

"This going to be amazing!" She whispered, and Sarah-Lee nudged her shoulder. 

The acolytes settled on the ground opposite the grandparents and started to murmur, causing the hair on the back of everyone's neck to stand up. The main Priest stood by the alter at the other end of the room, which was a great marble slab with symbols and writing in no language of this planet around the edge. The alter, that hateful thing, was not flush against the back wall. There was a gap of about 10 feet, which hung over the edge of the cliff, and the smell of the sea and the wind from the waves crashing against the cliffs swept through the room, rustling everyone's robes and causing a small shiver to run up the spine.

"Great God!" The Priest started, raising his arms in ecstasy. The murmuring from the acolytes increased and Stede, feeling disgusted, could see his parents and in-laws focusing their gaze upon Sarah-Lee with undisguised greed. "We come before you today, humbly, bearing our necks, in glorious celebration!"

The smell of the sea, which Izzy, despite being a city boy through and through, had always associated with comfort and home (he deliberately didn't think that this is what Ed had smelt like. The sea, and salt, and warm leather), started to wane, and something vile was taking its place. Izzy looked at Lucius, who was kneeling beside, and saw that the boy was shaking with fear. 

"Don't piss yourself." Izzy whispered. 

His large scar on the back of his right hand was aching, like the skin had been newly torn off. He wasn't wearing his glove, and he massaged it slowly, trying to alleviate the pain. 

"Today, a new member of the Bonnet family becomes an adult, ready to serve you, ready to serve the Old Gods!" The Priest continued, and Alma giggled. Stede thought he was going to be sick. "It is right, and good, that you receive the appropriate blessing!"

The acolytes voices rose up in an inhuman screech, and Izzy couldn't help himself. They could all feel the temperature in the room rising, and Izzy caught Jim and Frenchie's eyes. 

They might all be new to this kind of ritual, but even they could sense that something was about to go seriously wrong.

"We send you this sacrifice, in order that you may, in your infinite mercy, continue to bless this family with continued wealth and stability! We send you this gift, given in love and obedience, so that Alma Bonnet may know her duties and be prepared to fill them!" The Priest sounded ecstatic, fixing his gaze on the gap behind the alter. The smell permeating the room, of rotting meat, burning iron, old blood, made everyone's noses twitch. Louis buried his face into Mary's side, complaining without words, and Mary hugged him closer. 

"It is time!" The Priest cried out, and everyone watched as a three of the acolytes stood up and stepped forward. Stede, without a word, wrapped his arms around Alma and drew her close. But, before he could reach out, he watched helplessly as they grabbed Sarah-lee by her arms and shoulders and started to drag her forwards.

"What?" Alma gasped. She started to stand up and follow her, but Stede jerked her downwards. "What's happening?" Alma asked, looking at her father. 

Stede gazed helplessly back. 

"This sacrifice of a close friend of the supplicant, given in complete willingness, is offered to you, Lord Hnarqu! So that you may continue to bless this family, and protect them from the wickedness of the UnBelievers, the Rebels, the Elder Gods!" The Priest screamed, and the smell increased significantly. 

Sarah-Lee fought with all her might, small whimpers coming from her lips as she struggled against the men holding her. Her feet slipped across the marble floor, and occasionally kicked in the air as the acolytes lifted her up. Stede could feel Alma shaking in his arms, looking at her friend. 

"What's happening? What are they doing?" She cried out.

"This is necessary, my dear!" Lady Bonnet looked at her granddaughter, ignoring the increasingly loud cries from Sarah-Lee as she was dragged to the alter. "This is what our family does, to become great! And it needs to happen on a prestigious day, like your birthday!"

"Not Sarah-Lee. Not my friend!" Alma wept, struggling against her father. 

"It must be a close acquaintance." Lord Bonnet grumbled, looking at Sarah-Lee with barely concealed disgust. "Makes the sacrifice actually worth something. Mind you," he turned back to look at the Bonet family, all in various states of horror, denial and tears, "it's not like she matters. She's from the village. This is the best thing she'll ever do in her life."

The Crew, kneeling at the back of the room, were sick with horror and realisation. Izzy in particular thought that he was going to throw up on his own knees as Sarah-Lee started crying louder as she was lifted up and laid on the alter, the acolytes holding her wrists and ankles to keep her from wriggling free. The ghastly smell in the room was now almost a physical thing, and, behind the alter, an unnatural blackness was creeping up the wall. The wind was stronger, and everyone's robes were swirling around them.

"We've got to do something!" Fang said and stood up, intent on moving forwards. But Lucius lunged over and grabbed his arms, stopping him.

"You can't!" He cried out, and his face was wet with tears. 

Izzy didn't let that stop him. He too got to his feet and ran forwards, trying to configure out a way of stopping this without killing everyone in the room. Even though he knew that this would be a futile endeavour, his mind refused to let him be complicit in this.

He saw his village standing in a line before a monster, and refused to let it happen a second time. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Doug following him. Doug collapsed beside Mary, gathering Louis into his arms as the boy cried in terror. As Izzy passed Stede, he abruptly stood up, sliding his crying, screaming daughter to Mary and grabbing Izzy's arms.

"Don't move!" Stede said, sounding panicked.

"You're just going to let this happen?" Izzy screamed back, struggling against Stede. But Stede used his height to his advantage, keeping Izzy by his side. 

"It's too late!" Stede cried, looking like he'd been hollowed out. "It's too late now!"

"She a little girl! She's just a fucking little girl!"

"I KNOW"! Stede yelled into Izzy's face, and Izzy gripped Stede's arms back, realising that, as angry as Izzy was, he was starting to see what the unique circumstances of the Bonnet children had been like they were. 

"Oh, not Sarah-Lee, not Sarah-Lee! Please, don't kill her! Please, she's my friend!" Alma begged, tears streaming down her face. She was struggling against her mother, who was shushing her badly and cradling her against her chest. Alma was reaching out, trying to reach her friend. 

"Alma, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" Mary sobbed into her hair, rocking her daughter. 

"Keep that girl quiet! She disturbing the Ceremony!" Mary's mother snapped. She looked at the family falling apart in the middle of the room with clear irritation on her face. 

On the alter, Sarah-Lee had stopped struggling. She looked at the ceiling with a terrible expression on her face. The acolytes, with a dismissive wave of the Priests hand, went back to kneeling and gibbering with their fellows along the wall. The black creeping shape behind the alter increased, tendrils shifting up the marble like horrible ivy, and the Crew and Bonnets watched in horror as the Priest reached up the sleeve of one of his robes and took out a knife. The blade glinted unevenly, showing its crude construction, and Sarah-Lee, seeing it, started to wet herself without shame. 

Stede swayed where he stood, seeing the knife, and Izzy felt himself keeping the man upright. They all looked on in horror at the alter, knowing that they couldn't do anything. 

"GREAT HNARQU, TAKE THIS SACRIFICE!" The Priest cried out, bringing the knife up over Sarah-Lee's chest. Mary forcefully pulled Alma's head into her robe, and Alma screamed into her mother's side. "TAKE THIS WILLING GIFT, AND GIVE THIS FAMILY THE FORTUNE THAT WAS AGREED ON IN THE BEGINNING!"

The Crew and Bonnet's watched, frozen in terror, as a black tentacle started to creep higher up the wall. Sarah-Lee didn't react, not even whimpering, as the Priest held the knife above her chest. There was a moment when the world seemed to stand still, as Izzy realised that, despite what he'd gone through, what had happened to him, what he'd fought for, he might have to look away as a child was murdered in front of him. Stede gripped his arms, finding strength in him, and knew that his daughter was about to be destroyed. 

As he had. 

Just as the knife moved downwards, there was the most terrible sound that came from the gap. Everyone flinched as their eardrums reverberated. It might have charitably been called screaming, if screaming felt like nails on a chalkboard, a continuous gunshot, slamming metal and unbridled fear. The noise made the walls seemed to shake, the blood felt like it was about to bust out of their veins, and their eyeballs were going to shake out of their skulls. The cliffs themselves seemed to crash and the sound of crumbling rock echoed through the room. 

It was all Izzy and Stede could do to stay on their feet. They gripped each other's arms and swayed. The acolytes were gibbering and moaning, and Stede could see, out of the corner of his eye, his parents and in-laws looking at each other, confused. 

After what seemed like an eon, but was only a couple of minutes, the screaming died down. No one moved, let alone breathed. 

"Great Hna-" The Priest started to say, but was suddenly stopped. The smell of death that had been filling the room suddenly disappeared, and in its place, the smell of salt, brine and leather felt like a breath of fresh air. Izzy took in a shaky breath, recognising the scent. 

The blackness that had been creeping up the wall retreated, and time seemed to stand still for a moment. Then, something reached up from behind the alter. 

A hand. Easily the size of a adult human, rested against the floor beside the alter. Izzy let out a sob when he recognised the spider on the back.

It emerged from the gap, revealing itself. 20, 25, 30 feet tall, the space was filled with what came through, and the Crew were mesmerised. 

This was not what had been described. This was something...More.

"My god." Stede whispered. He couldn't look away. 

That night, there may have been a full moon and clear sky, but it had still obscured the magnificent and horror that was now before them. His head touching the ceiling, the God was looking at them all. His skin was burnished copper, which glistened with sea water and salt. His tattoos, which were numerous and starkly black against his skin, seemed to move of their own accord. As He leant over the alter, Stede could see that the tentacles which has frightened him so badly just the other night were still there. The sleekness of the skin, which started mid-torso and became stronger the further down they stretched, was somehow beautiful. At least 3 tentacles were creeping up beside the alter, and, despite being the size of one of the marble columns in the Temple, they were magnificent. Dusky purple skin, with bright purple rings every few feet. The skin on the bottom was almost pearly white and iridescent. 

Stede and Izzy looked up, and saw that He was watching them, his face grave and calculating. The beard was still waist length and wild, dripping with salt water and concealing his mouth, and his hair was loose and seeming to move in a breeze of own. It looked like silver kelp, shifting in the tide, and as He settled himself over the alter, Izzy watched as those eyes met his briefly. Izzy didn't bother to hide his shiver. 

Those wonderful brown eyes, so familiar, were obviously not human. No human had pupils like that, rectangular and sideways, and looked so knowing. His eyes looked like the octopus' that He had always so admired. 

Everyone stared. For Izzy and Stede, gazing up at the being who resembled the man that they loved, it felt like sorrow and homecoming at the same time. He, in turn looked at their faces, not reacting to the horror, pain, and tiny amounts of cautious hope that Izzy and Stede were both showing. 

The frozen moment, as those unnatural tentacles slowly started to shift around the room, was broken by the Priest, looking confused, gazed up at this new God.

"Who are you, Great One?" He asked. The knife was still in his hand. 

He broke his gaze of Izzy and Stede, instead choosing to look at the Priest. He saw the knife in his hand, and took in a deep breath. When He spoke, it felt like everyone's bones were vibrating. 

"WHAT IS THIS?" He asked. "WHAT IS HAPPENING IN THIS HOUSE?"

The acolytes and the Priest looked at each other. Lord and Lady Bonnets, and Mary's parents, were starting to look worried. They had no idea what was happening, and they wondered whether this new...thing...was going to effect the income they had been promised.

"My...God." The Priest said, slowly. "We are grateful for your appearance. We were expecting-"

"I KNOW WHO YOU WERE EXPECTING. I AM HERE INSTEAD."

The Crew looked at each other, open mouthed. Stede and Izzy's descriptions had not been able to do him justice, and, seeing Him in front of them, they now realised that whatever had happened that evening was FAR more complicated that anything they could have thought of.

Izzy gripped Stede's arm so hard Stede thought it might snap. His breath was coming in short and choppy, and Stede, realising that Izzy was on the verge of a panic attack, steadied him. It wasn't like Stede himself was doing any better, but at least he'd had some ghastly experience in this kind of Ceremony. 

What was happening now, though? Stede didn't have a fucking clue.

"We would welcome your name, My God." The Priest said, bowing obsequiously. The acolytes followed him, slamming their heads into the floor. 

His eyes moved from the congregation back to Stede and Izzy, looking back at Him. When he spoke, they both knew that, despite the room hanging on his every word, he was speaking solely to them. 

"MY NAME?" He said, and Izzy and Stede held their collective breaths. 

"I AM HE WHO SWIMS ALONE. THE ONE WHOM WALKS THE SEABED, WHO SAILS WITH SHIPS AND KEEPS CREW AND COMPANY SAFE. I AM THE MIXED BLOOD, THE UNNATURAL, THE SON OF ELIZABETH. I AM THE DEFENDER, THE LIAR, THE REPENTANT.

"I AM THE KRAKENI, THE HALF-DROWNED."

Chapter Text

No one moved. It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. The God, Krakeni, looked around the room, before once again looking at Stede and Izzy. Izzy and Stede continued to hold each other's arm, and Stede unconsciously kneaded Izzy's sleeves. 

"The Half Drowned?" The Priest stuttered, the knife in his hands wavering. Krakeni shifted his gaze, his unusual eyes hardening as he watched the knife graze Sarah-Lee's chest. The child herself didn't even whimper, too comatose with fear. In Mary's arms, Alma's breath hitched as she focused on her friend. "My Lord God, I didn't even realise that you were here!"

Krakeni didn't even answer. He was leaning down, looking at Sarah-Lee. Stede could see his mouth, buried under the beard, twist in disgust. 

"WHAT IS THIS?" He asked. The words rumbled through the air, and the Priest, who had always been so composed, flinched sharply. 

"'Tis a sacrifice, My God." He said, his voice shaky. Never before had he been so much on the back foot. He had no idea what to do in situations like this. Usually, by this time, the family God had appeared, taken the body, and he would receive his usual payment of gold and a bath. For some reason he couldn't fathom, getting the blood of the sacrificed children off his skin was more difficult than usual.

Now, though? He was lost. Not only had the old family God not appeared, but a genuine legend had taken His place. The Half-Drowned, appearing before him? Actually existing?

This was...unprecedented. 

"A SACRIFICE?" Krakeni didn't move his gaze. Sarah-Lee continued to look at the ceiling, unmoving except for the tears trickling down her face. "A SACRIFICE FOR WHAT?"

"To celebrate a birthday!" Stede's mother said shrilly. She was completely on the back foot, and, in true Sarah Bonnet fashion, was settling into a confused kind of anger. "Alma turns 13, and becomes an adult. This is a prestigious event, it is only right that it be honoured in the correct way!"

"THE CORRECT WAY?" Krakeni's face twisted into something unsavoury, and a tentacle the size of a man slid up to the alter. The Priest almost jumped out of the way, and Krakeni gently lifted Sarah-Lee, his suckers cradling her so softly. Krakeni looked up at Stede and Izzy, and, without a word, Stede let go of Izzy's arms and held out his own. The tentacle moved over, and Stede took Sarah-Lee from Krakeni as gently as possible, cradling her close. Izzy gently shifted Sarah-Lee's head to rest on Stede's shoulder, and kept an arm on Sarah-Lee's, trying to do something to ground her.

"I DON'T ACCEPT THIS SACRIFICE. I DON'T ACCEPT ANY KIND OF FLESH SACRIFICE. I AM NOT THOSE GODS." 

The Priest, acolytes and the grandparents looked at each other, confused. This was not what they had been expecting. Edward Bonnet could feel his anger grow in his chest. This was something new, and he had always considered new to be an aberration to the natural order. His useless, weak son was cradling the sacrifice like it mattered. The family God had been replaced by this...creature. And, more worryingly, this new God wasn't giving the true leaders of the family (himself, his wife, and Mary's parents) their due, instead focusing his attention on the junior members. 

"What..." He started, but found himself stuttering to a halt as those hideous eyes locked onto him. Whatever was happening in this situation, he was suddenly aware that this God was absolutely drenched in power. "Why are you here?" Edward Bonnet finally squeaked out. 

The atmosphere in the room seemed to contract, and everyone, including the Priest, held their breath. Then, Krakeni gave a grim smile, continued to hold Lord Bonnet in his gaze.

"I AM THE NEW FAMILY GOD." He finally said. Beside Stede, on her knees, Mary's breath hitched. Removing an arm from around Alma, she grabbed the end of Stede's robe, and gripped it. Stede tore his eyes away from Krakeni and looked at his wife. Without moving much, he shrugged, a combination of confusion and terror on his face.

"The new...God?" Mary's mother whispered, looking at everyone. Mary's father, realising that the status quo was shifting away from what they were expecting, chose to glare at the comatose Sarah-Lee, whom he had already decided was the cause of this new confusion. 

"I HAVE DECIDED TO GIVE MY PATRONAGE TO THE BONNET FAMILY." Krakeni said, drawing himself back slightly. He settled back into the writhing mass of tentacles, and was ideally stroking one, as if it was a demanding cat. "I HAVE DEFEATED THE PREVIOUS GOD-"

"The Lord Hnarqu?" The Priest chocked out. Krakeni's smile turned sharp, his lips drawing back to reveal devastatingly pointed teeth. 

"A WEAK BATTLE. MY UNCLE FELL QUICKLY, GIVING ME DOMINION OVER THIS TERRITORY, THIS FAMILY. AS SUCH," He looked at Stede, Izzy and the family kneeling before him. Izzy, slowly starting to work his way out of the confusion, realised that he could recognise the emotions in...Krakeni's...eyes. Those eyes that, despite the new pupil shape, Izzy had known for years. 

He saw sorrow when He looked at Sarah-Lee, and hope when he met Izzy and Stede's eyes. He needed them to trust him, to believe what he was saying, to go along with the plan. And, God help him, but Izzy was going to do what he'd always done. 

Trust in Ed, no matter what. 

"I DICTATE THE FORTUNES OF THIS FAMILY NOW. AND I DON'T REQUIRE SACRIFICES OF THIS...NATURE." The disgust in Krakeni's voice at the idea of more children being murdered in his name was a very real thing, and the Priest was starting to realise that he was losing control of the situation in seconds. 

"You will...ensure our fortune?" Lord Bonnet said hopefully. Stede and Izzy turned to share a disgusted glance. 

No matter what, if there was money on the line, Edward Bonnet would do anything to make sure that it was his. 

"I SHALL ENSURE THE FORTUNE OF THE FAMILY. YOU NEED NOT WORRY ABOUT THE FUTURE, I SHALL MAKE SURE THAT THEY ALL PROSPER." Krakeni said, his eyes flicking to Lord Bonnet briefly before looking back at Izzy and Stede. But Lord Bonnet, getting frustrated at the new family God choosing to focus on his son and the unworthy people gathered in the room, continued to speak up. 

"What do you require, as a sacrifice?" He asked. "Do you need someone more important? I am sure that my daughter-in-law would willingly give herself to you for the family!"

Krakeni, who was already visibly starting to get angry with him, closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and then leant in, fixing Lord Bonnet, Lady Bonnet, and the in-laws with an incredibly hard expression. When he spoke next, the world seemed to contract around them, and their ears immediately started bleeding.

"I HAVE SAID THAT I REQUIRE NO FLESH. HOW MANY FUCKING TIMES DO I HAVE TO SAY THAT BEFORE IT STICKS INTO YOUR TINY HEADS?" He growled. Mary, who had frozen in horror at what her father in law had suggested, closer her eyes and gritted her teeth against the pressure. Alma whimpered into Mary's robe, but turned her head to peek a glance at Krakeni, realising that the tone in the room was changing. 

"I'LL DICTATE WHAT I REQUIRE IN TIME." Krakeni said, turning his head to look at the Crew, who had been creeping forwards this entire time, and were now gathered around the Bonnets and Izzy. 

"If you tell us now-" The Priest started to say, before Krakeni whirled around and actually snarled at the man. The Priest, without a single change of expression, locked eyes on him. There was an increase of the smell of sea water in the air, and blood gushed from his eyes, his ears, his nose and his mouth. He crumpled where he stood, not dead, but his mind overwhelmed with the knowledge of his crimes. 

Krakeni gave the gibbering Priest a small, mean smile, before looking one last time at Stede and Izzy. His smile turned soft, and he started to move back over the alter, slipping into the gap and removing himself from the room. 

"KEEP AN EYE ON THE SHORE. I'LL SEND YOU A WARNING, YOU WILL KNOW WHAT HAPPENS NEXT." His voice echoed through the room, and everyone looked at each other.

It was only Stede and Izzy, who continued to watch Krakeni retreat, that caught his small wink as he finally disappeared. The smell of sea and leather dissipated, and everyone was left in the aftermath of what had happened. 

No one moved. Everyone stood still, taking in the enormity of what had happened. Even Alma, who had spent the entire time screaming and apologising, was shaking silently. Tears continued to trickle down her face, but her breaths were taking in silently. In Stedes' arms, Sarah-Lee stirred slightly, blinking slowly before the horror of what she went through overtook her, and she went comatose again. Izzy, desperately in need of something to do, reached up and adjusted Sarah-Lee's robe, covering her more completely and keeping her dignity in tact. 

"A new...God?" Stede's mother finally said, still on her knees. She looked at her husband, her small, cruel mind trying to figure out what had just happened. 

"Clearly..." Lord Bonnet started to say, and then stopped and licked his lips. "This is a Good Thing! A new God has decided to gift us his fortune and patronage, and we must figure out how to keep him generous!"

"Indeed!" Mary's mother squeaked out. 

"He says that he requires no flesh sacrifice, but clearly he was just soothing us." Lord Bonnet continued, starting to stand. Izzy, who had kept a hand on Stede's shoulder, felt it tensing. He looked at Stede's face, and saw that it was becoming more and more angry as he looked at his father. 

"Maybe he needs more children. Clearly that...thing..." Lord Bonnet gestured to Sarah-Lee, and Stede's arms tightened around her. Mary, still kneeling beside Stede and hugging Alma close, was starting to move from horror and sorrow to deep, homicidal rage. 

"Didn't meet the requirements. Maybe the entire population of children from the village will be needed."

Izzy jerked in horror, the image of his friends, his playmates, being fed into the monstrous maw of Cthugha flashing through his mind. He shook his head, the hairs on the back of his neck standing upright, and he looked around. The Crew was now surrounding the family, and Izzy took comfort in Frenchie pressing against his shoulder. 

Stede was taking in deep, even breaths. Like Mary, he was slipping from the horror of the Ceremony into something that he could use. The girl in his arms, poor Sarah-Lee who was urine soaked and barely breathing, was giving him courage that he hadn't really felt before. 

"Yes, yes!" His mother squealed. "Give him the children! They won't do anything with their lives, it will be for the betterment of the family!"

Doug, who was cradling his weeping son, looked at Stede and Mary and recognised the changing expressions on their faces. 'Good.' He thought. He wasn't alone in his feelings. 

"We just need to...gather them?" Mary's father looked around, not seeing the family in the middle, but instead viewing the potential windfall if they could just please this new god properly. 

Archie hissed between her teeth behind Mary, and Mary looked over her shoulder, taking in the expression on her face and felt something in her loosen. They weren't alone. 

And there were more of them than the Grandparents. 

"You, boy!" Lord Bonnet pointed to Oluwande, who gave him a flat stare back. "Go down to the village and tell them-"

"ENOUGH!" Stede roared. 

Everyone jumped. Stede was absolutely snarling at this point, his lips pulled back from his teeth and his eyes giving nothing but hatred. Izzy laid a hand on Sarah-Lee's head, keeping her calm, and looked at Stede with new eyes. 

"I have HAD IT!" Stede continued. Even Lord Bonnet, used to kowtowing his son and rendering him weak and pliable, was frozen in the force of his son's hatred. "I have had it with the violence, the sacrifices, the blood! I have had it with the disrespect, and the fear, and knowing that this family wealth is based off of giving children to MONSTERS!"

"Stede, now-" His mother tried.

"I AM TALKING!" Even Mary back away slightly. Used as she was to Stede, even she was surprised to see what happened when he reached the end of his rope. She'd never thought down on Stede, having gone through the Ceremony just as he had, but this was the first time she'd really seen him take control.

And she liked it. 

The Crew was looking at each other, confused. Stede Bonnet had never really registered as someone who could command the attention of a room. In fact, until that moment, they had thought of him as rather weak and feeble. Wee John caught Izzy's eyes, and watched as the man nodded slightly. Wee John conveyed the silent message to the rest of the Crew, so used to working in the shadows that they got the meaning immediately. 

Trust me, and don't move.

"This is it!" Stede carried on, his voice strong and the anger clear. "No more horror, no more terror. No more bodies, and broken, cursed friendships. I am ending this cycle of blood, and you can shove it if you try to continue it!"

"Boy, you stop talking now-" Lord Bonnet tried to take control, but Stede simply steamrolled over him.

"You heard the New God, the Krakeni! There is to be no more sacrifices. Are you trying to go against the words of a God?" Stede sneered at his father, and watched, with satisfaction that he'd rarely felt before, as the man shrank back. 

"Stede, darling," His mother simpered. "We simply must find out what this new God wants. The family fortune depends on it. And those people don't need any higher calling than dying for the glory for the family."

And there it was. The naked truth of why the village existed. The silence in the room was heavy and oppressive. Izzy sucked in a breath, anger curdling in his chest like fire. He glared at the Grandparents, still on their knees, and wondered how long it would take to run back to the house, find his knives, and really go to work. 

"Get the fuck out." Stede whispered. 

"What did you say?" Lord Bonnet growled. 

"Get the FUCK out of this building. Get the fuck off of my land. Get out of my FUCKING SIGHT!" Stede screamed, his anger causing him to stalk forward. Sarah-Lee didn't even twitch, her wide eyes unfocused. 

"I have had enough of you! You have ruined my life, my wife's life, and now you tried to ruin my daughters! You have made us fear the very breath we take, and I am sick of it! I don't want to see ANY of you again! Take your priests, and your knives, and your hideous beliefs, and get the FUCK out of our LIVES!" 

The silence was ringing, and everyone was standing there, frozen. Finally, the Crew, realising that Stede, their previous ineffectual boss, was taking a stand, moved. Fang, Ivan, Wee John and Black Pete (who handed a weeping and shaking Lucius to Roach with a grateful smile) stalked forward.

"Time to go." Fang said mildly, and literally picked up Mary's father off the ground and set him on his feet. Fang, who wouldn't hurt a fly, was exuding such an uncomfortable air that even the most oblivious people would be able to guess that they needed to move on. Lord Bonnet puffed out his chest and tried to march over to Stede, Mary and the family, but Ivan gave him a glare and he wilted. 

When the grandparents and the acolytes, having scrapped the Priest off of the ground and bundled him up, left the Temple in a hurry, it was as if the tension in the air left the room suddenly. Everyone seemed to relax, and Mary leant her head on Doug's shoulder, nosing her son faintly and patting Alma's shoulder. Alma herself was now hiccupping and sniffling, realising that the immediate danger had passed and, somehow, her world hadn't collapsed. 

Izzy let out a deep breath and closed his eyes. He swayed on his feet and then opened them again, looking at Stede who, now the Temple was clear of danger, was looking around, slightly confused. 

"My Lord?" He asked softy. Stede jerked, Sarah-Lee making a tiny sigh at the movement, and then Stede looked at Izzy. 

"Izzy?" Stede whispered back, the weight of the events just starting to hit him. His voice wavered, and Izzy, without realising, laid a hand on his arm. 

"Do we leave now?" He asked, and Stede took in a shaky breath.

"We can go. I think it's safe." He answered, his voice shaking. Beside him, Oluwande and Jim helped Mary and Doug to their feet. Their legs had fallen asleep, and Mary in particular winced as her feet tingled, due to Alma having leant on them in her terror. Doug shifted Louis in his arms, the boy nearly asleep from the violent swing of emotions. But he whimpered as he was jostled, and Stede shushed him gently, tightening his grip of the girl in his arms. Alma was being held up by Archie, so weak with horror that she could barely stand. She looked at her father, and at Sarah-Lee, and started to cry again.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered.

"It's ok, sweetheart." Stede said, giving her a weak smile. "It's alright."

They all stood there, no one quite knowing what to do, when Mary, tried from the feeling of extreme terror leaving her, moved forwards. She cuddled her daughter to her side, and staggered out of the Temple. Stede looked at his wife and felt nothing but pride. 

They may not love each other like a traditional marriage, but God, Stede was proud to have her as his partner in this farce. 

Stede adjusted Sarah-Lee in his arms and moved, Izzy keeping to his side, and Doug slightly behind him. Lucius kept a hand on Louis head, soothing him into sleep, and they trickled out of that cursed place. The night air was cool without being cold, and everyone walked in silence, taking in the events of the evening. The Crew looked at each other, having silent conversations that they were used to. Buttons, who had spent the entire evening silent and watching with wide, knowing eyes, was positively beaming. 

Stede and Izzy caught each others eye, and, keeping Sarah-Lee quite with soft murmurs and touches, bent their heads together to talk. In those moments, societal expectations of class were thrown completely out of the window. 

Ed had neatly seen to that. 

"We need to get the children to bed." Stede said lowly, and Izzy nodded, looking forward to see Alma starting to stumble, and Mary, without a thought, sweep her into her arms, wrapping her daughters legs around her waist and was whispering soothing words into her ear, keeping her daughter as calm as possible. 

"Some supper, and then they can sleep for as long as they want. I don't want them to wonder about anything until they need to."

"And then the Crew need information. I need to know what the fuck just happened." Izzy growled, and Stede threw him a sharp look. 

"You're not the only one. I had no idea what was going on. I'm just as lost as you are." 

"Are you really?" Izzy sneered, and Stede let out a deep breath. 

"Children first." He said firmly. "Then I'l answer questions." 

Walking back into the mansion was surreal. The house seemed to have changed, even though it was still the same building it had been when they had left. The balloons and streamers from the party were still around, and now looked like a mockery of the birthday. Alma, seeing a sign for her celebration, started to cry quietly again and Mary stroked her hair, starting to look exhausted herself. 

They all stood in the drawing room, and Stede looked at Mary, sharing a silent conversation before she started to move to the stairs. Doug handed over a sleeping Louis to Lucius, and then took Sarah-Lee from Stede's arms with a small, weak smile. Lucius and Doug followed Mary out of the room and up the stairs, allowing Stede to run his hands over his face to steady himself before facing the Crew. 

But he was surprised. 

"We're sorry." Jim said in a whisper. They couldn't look at Stede and was leaning against Oluwande, who was also looking ashamed. Archie was positively chewing on her lips, staring out of the window as hard as she could. In fact, most of the Crew was avoiding Stede's gaze, looking various shades of ashamed, sheepish and shocked. 

"Why?" Stede said, sounding exhausted. "Why are you sorry?"

"We didn't...we thought..." Jim looked around, uncharacteristically helpless.

"We were the ones that let the children go down to the village." Frenchie said, the words spilling out. 

Stede took in a deep breath, looking at him with suddenly fierce eyes. The silence in the room was like a weight on their heads, and the Crew prepared for the inevitable explosion which would shake them, and then prepare to leave the house they were starting to consider home.

But, just as Stede was readying himself for a good scream, the air left his lungs, and he seemed to deflate. He closed his eyes and put his face in his hands, groaning into them. The Crew looked at each other, confused. Even Izzy, who truthfully hadn't truly known about the children, but wouldn't have said anything if he had, looked surprised. 

"I need to apologise as well." Stede finally said.

"What?" Izzy breathed, feeling like the rug had been pulled out from under his feet. 

"I haven't been...honest. With any of you, truthfully." Stede raised his head from his hands and gave the Crew a shaky smile. "I didn't know what to tell you. And so, I told you nothing. No wonder you decided to help the children, we must have seemed like the worst parents."

"Alma and Louis were desperate to...uh..." Archie started, and then stopped.

"Have friends." Roach said. 

"As they should." Stede whispered. 

"So we took them to the village." Oluwande finished, and everyone winced. 

"We would never have-" Black Pete started to say, and Stede held up a hand.

"You don't need to finish that sentence. I understand."

"And now..." Frenchie started to say. 

"Does the village know...what happens?" Oluwande asked, and Stede gave him a grim smile. That was all the answer that they needed, and they all lapsed into silence again. Then, like the sun coming out from behind the clouds, a thought occurred to everyone. 

"Sarah-Lee lives." Stede whispered, and everyone brightened. 

"We can go down and get her parents!" Jim said, sounding almost too enthusiastic. They were all desperate for some form of good news. 

"I think she just has a mother." Roach murmured, and everyone looked at each other. 

"Jim, Archie, Oluwande. Would you please go down to the village and fetch Mrs Jenkins, and bring her back to the house, so she can see her daughter is safe?" Stede's voice trembled, and he looked hopefully at the Crew. They nodded, and quickly hurried downstairs to change and go to the village.

"I'll go as well." Doug said, having entered the room in his usual clothes. 

"Thank you, Doug." Stede gave him a grateful smile. 

Izzy looked at the rest of the Crew, who saw the unspoken order in his eyes and moved downstairs as one. Frenchie and Lucius decided to go upstairs to help Mary, used to the nursery and the routines of the children, and, as Jim, Archie, Oluwande and Doug left the house with Fang to hitch up a horse to a cart and go to the village, Izzy and Stede were left alone. 

Without a word, Izzy turned and walked out of the room, Stede following, and they walked in silence to the office. The door closed behind them of its own volition, and Stede took it upon himself to start lighting the candles as Izzy started at him, his eyes narrowed and his arms crossed. He could feel anger start to take over his relief, and he wanted answers. 

"What the fuck, Bonnet?" He growled when Stede turned around, and fixed him with a blank stare. "What the fuck was that all about?"

Stede gave Izzy a grim smile, falling into his chair with a huff, and staring at the candle by his elbow. "That, my dear Izzy, is what built my family."

Izzy frowned harder. "What?"

"The Great Bonnets, holding house of the South." The bitterness in Stede's voice could have curdled milk. "Built on the blood of children."

Izzy swallowed, realising that Stede was building up to something. He quelled his anger, and sat down himself, looking at Stede. "Every member?" He asked. 

The silence swallowed them for a second, before Stede tore his gaze away from the flame and took a shaky breath in. "His name was Tim. He was my best friend."

Izzy felt something in him go cold. He didn't know if he was prepared to hear this. 

"It was my wedding day. I'd met Mary that morning, you know?" Stede gave Izzy a small smile. "She was even shorter than me. And pretty, but I didn't care about that. I was nervous. Tim was by my side the entire time. We'd known each other since we were babies. He was brought to the house to keep me company. Especially since I had no siblings, though I knew that my parents tried. We giggled at my marriage, and ate, and I swear that, aside from Mary, it was the happiest day of my life."

Izzy sensed where this was going, but he felt sick. 

"So we get to the Temple, and we kneel down, and Tim couldn't stop laughing. He was...my best friend." Stede whispered, and a tear trickled down his cheek. "The marriage ceremony happened, and Mary and I kissed, and then we knelt again. And then...then..."

"You don't have to-" Izzy started to say, but Stede gave him a glare and Izzy stopped. 

"They took him from me. Dragged him to that fucking alter, and tore him apart in front of me. Tim was begging me to stop. I couldn't. I was frozen. I was useless."

"You were a child." Izzy whispered. 

"I was 12!" Stede snapped. "I could have done something, anything! But I knelt there, with my brand new wife, and I watched as my best friend was sacrificed for that fucking monster that we worshipped! The family fortune is built on the blood of innocents, friends and lovers and what we deem to be inferior, and it makes me sick thinking about it!"

The silence was ringing, and then Izzy leant back, everything about the household coming together. Now it made sense, why there were no devotions in the household. Why the Lord and Lady didn't swear to their family God, and kept a household devoid of fear of the Void and the punishments for insubordination light, or in this case, non-existent. 

Why the children had been so isolated. 

"You never wanted this to happen again." Izzy said slowly. "Alma and Louis could never have friends, because then they would have to go through what you did."

"It broke us, Mary and I. I would rather Alma and Louis hate us than have to go through what we did. To have their hearts broken and souls corrupted like we did." Stede gave a bitter laugh. "And look how fucking well we did."

Izzy let out a deep breath, feeling oddly complete. For months the household oddities had niggled at him. He could never have put a reason why it bothered him so much, why the Old Gods were so ignored in such a rich and noble household. This was such an unusual situation that even Izzy, who had never served in a household like some of the Crew did, was able to spot it. It was a topic of hot conversation in the evenings amongst the Crew. 

Although now, with added context, Izzy could understand why Ed had always looked slightly uncomfortable when they talked. 

"This isn't your fault." Izzy finally said in a low voice, and Stede gave him a grim laugh. 

"If not us, then who?"

"The fucking Priests? Your parents, those acolytes, the whole fucking system? Or, maybe, you can blame the God who started this?" Izzy said, his voice louder than he wanted, but it seemed to get through to Stede. He sat up in his chair and gave Izzy a hard, searching look. 

Izzy felt like he was being seen straight through. He sat still, and then realised that, if nothing else, this was an evening for truths. 

"My village was sacrificed to an Old God." Izzy said, drawing out the words from deep in his soul. Only Ed knew the whole truth, given on the first night that they'd fucked. 

Stede stared at him, looking astonished. He'd never expected any kind of openness from Izzy, despite what they'd both gone through. 

"Little Ovington. It was...nothing special. Nothing to talk about." Izzy felt like his soul was being scrubbed. "We worked the fields, and had no celebrations, and it was a fucking miserable place to grow up."

"But it was your home." Stede whispered, and Izzy jerked his head to look out of the window. He would not cry in front of this man, not at all. 

He was unsuccessful. 

"It was home." He said softly. "But the Lord of the land lost money. We weren't producing crops quickly enough, his coffers were becoming low. So he made a bargain. My whole village, for his money and prestige."

"Fucking shit." Stede said, his voice chocked. 

"I was the only survivor. I ran. I left them all, even the babies, even the young ones. Even my Ma. All of them, gone." Izzy turned to look at Stede, his eyes fierce with loathing and duty. "That's why I hate them."

"The Gods?" Stede asked. Izzy sneered at him.

"People who profit off the blood of us! We are not animals." Izzy hissed, and, to his surprise, Stede nodded. 

"I understand." Stede nodded. 

"Don't fucking get me wrong. I loathe the Gods too. I want nothing more than to see them all gone." Izzy said, and then felt a pang of guilt when he thought of Ed. 

Could he live in a world without Ed, despite being what he was?

He didn't want to know. 

"Even Ed?" Stede said softly, and Izzy suppressed a jolt. It was like the man was reading his fucking mind. 

"I don't know." Izzy said, not meeting Stede's eyes and massaging the aching scar in the back of his right hand. "It was...I was...repulsed...when I saw him that night." Izzy gave Stede a humourless laugh. "He was everything that I hated, and everything I fought against, and it felt like he'd betrayed everything that I stand for."

"And yet?" Stede have Izzy a sad smile, and Izzy knew that Stede was feeling the same thing he was.

"I don't care. I literally couldn't give a flying fuck. I still trust that lying fucker!" Izzy gave a bark of laughter, leaning back in his chair and slapping the arms in disbelief. "Ed Teach was betrayed me in the most basic sense, and I still want to...to..."

"Ride him like a stallion?" Stede said innocently, and, as the whole horrible day pressed on them, Stede and Izzy collapsed into hysterical laughter. Stede buried his face into his hands, snorting helplessly, whilst Izzy threw his head back and laughed like it was the last thing that he would ever do. 

"Fuck." Izzy chocked out, coming down from the high. Stede was still giggling, but met his eyes. 

"I'm glad that you trusted me with this, Izzy. Makes me glad that Blackbeards Crew chose to come here." Stede said, and Izzy froze. All of the humour fled his system and he sat frozen, looking at Stede. He wondered, in the back of his mind, how quickly he could slit Stede's throat and escape out of the window if he needed to. 

"The fuck did you say?" He whispered, and Stede held up his hands, realising what he'd just said. 

"I...you're Blackbeards crew, aren't you?" Stede said. Izzy leant forward, his eyes narrowing. "You recently attempted to get rid of the Old Gods in the capital, and you came here to get away. I understand why you did, and believe me, I was thrilled when I figured it out!" Stede spoke faster and faster, recognising the danger he was in, and by the end, he was squeaking his words out. 

"How did you...we didn't say anything!" Izzy exclaimed, feeling distinctly wrong-footed. Stede shrugged. 

"It wasn't obvious, trust me. But I was, perhaps, looking for it. Too many coincidences, the size of your Crew, coming from London, needing a quick situation. Needing to escape. That story about your former household going to the Void, when there'd been no talk of an entire family giving themselves to the Old Gods. Believe me," Stede said, smiling grimly, "there's enough talk amongst noble family about the tiniest changes in fortune, an entire family disappearing would have been noticed."

"Well...fuck." Izzy said and settled back into his chair. He had temporarily felt afraid for the safety of the Crew, but, somehow, they had landed in the one house in the fucking world that they could be safe. 

"Truthfully, I was thankful it was you lot." Stede said, waving his hand. "Somehow, Mary, Doug and I got the one Crew in the whole country that would help us in our mission."

Izzy frowned. "Your mission?"

Stede smiled at Izzy. "You're not the only ones who want to get rid of the Old Gods."

Izzy opened his mouth, feeling like someone had punched him in the pit of his stomach, when the front door slammed open and Izzy and Stede stood up. They ran out of the office, their robes swirling around their ankles, to see Jim, Archie, Oulwande and Doug standing in the porch, all of them pale and grim. 

"What happened?" Izzy demanded. "Is something wrong?" 

The group by the door looked at each other, and Jim's face twisted and they punched the wall. Doug, face pale and drawn, walked up to Stede and handed him a small slip of paper. 

"Doug, what is this?" Stede asked. 

"Read it." Doug said through a strangled voice. Stede looked at the note, Izzy reading over his shoulder, and felt his stomach twist. 

'To whom it may concern,

I go to join my daughter in the Void. She has fulfilled her most sacred duty, and I pray that I shall meet her in the Paradise of the Old Gods.

Burn my body, and scatter me in the sea where I belong. The house is to be sold and the money given to the Lord and Lady for their glory.

Alice Jenkins, joyful in honour.'

Stede felt tears slip down his face as he looked up at Doug. Doug was taking in deep, shaky breaths, and Archie had a hand on his shoulder, bolstering him. 

"She hung herself. Probably done it as soon as Sarah-Lee left her house. She knew what she was doing." Oluwande said lowly. 

"What..." Stede said, but his voice stuck in his throat. "Has she been..."

"She's been taken care of." Jim whispered. "We're going to fulfil her wishes, and give her to the sea like she wanted."

Izzy went to the group, resting a hand on Jim's arm, and Stede looked at Doug. Doug jerked his head towards the stairs, and Stede gave him a thankful smile. He walked up, still holding the note, and wandered along the corridors to the nursery. He could hear the faint music coming from the bedroom, Frenchie soothing the children into sleep, and Stede was suddenly, extraordinarily thankful for the Crew. 

He entered the bedroom, the low light of a single candle illuminating the comfortable space. On his son's bed, Lucius was sitting up, reading lowly from a book as Louis slept beside him, his little face barely above his covers and buried into Lucius' hip. On the bed beside him, Mary was sitting on the side, stroking Alma's hair as she slept. In her arms, Sarah-Lee was curled up beside her, and they were tangled so close together Stede couldn't guess where one ended and the other began. Mary herself has changed from the robes and into a simple dressing gown. She was singing under her breath at Frenchie's music, the man himself sitting in the corner and strumming gently on a lute. Stede nodded to him, and watched as he smiled back. 

"Stede?" Mary asked, looking at him. "Is something wrong?"

Stede didn't say anything, simply held out the note. She took it and read, her expression falling into something terribly sad. Frenchie and Lucius never stopped reading and playing music, but they craned their necks to look. 

Mary finished reading, and crushed the letter in her hand. She looked up at Stede, her expression fierce and loving. 

"We simply have another daughter." She whispered, her voice hard. 

Stede felt like something had loosened in his chest. He leant over and pressed his lips to Mary's forehead, kissing her and forever thankful for her presence. 

Finally, it felt like this terrible, hideous day was coming to an end.

Over the next week, the household settled into some kind of new normal. The horror of the Ceremony was still fresh on everyone's minds, and they all walked around flinching at shadows, and yet, somehow, a new peace settled over the mansion. 

The day after, before the children awoke, Mary, looking haggard and drawn, had gone to Wee John and asked him to help alter some of Alma's dresses to fit Sarah-Lee, who, despite being 2 months younger, was almost 3 inches taller than Alma. Wee John jumped at the chance to make something new, feeling nothing but sorrow for the girl. In fact, the entire household rallied around the children, choosing to use their own horror and confusion as energy to help them heal. Sarah-Lee was still almost comatose with fear. She met no one's eyes, and didn't speak, and clutched Alma's hand as hard as she could. 

She never asked about her mother. Perhaps she already knew. 

The day after the Ceremony, as Wee John, Jim and Archie were helping Mary measure Sarah-Lee for clothing and acclimatising her to her new home, Alma walked into Stede's study with a hangdog expression on her face. She was twisting her sleeves in her hands, looking much younger than her now 13 years. 

"Darling?" Stede asked gently, and she started to cry softly. "What's the matter, my love?"

"I'm sorry, Papa." She whispered, and Stede immediately swept his daughter into his arms. 

"Why are you sorry, Alma?" Stede asked. She continued to cry, clutching the back of her father's waistcoat in her small hands. 

"I was so mean to you! I was so rude, and now I understand why you acted the way you did!" She wailed, and Stede hugged her harder. He rocked her side to side and waited her out. 

"I know, I know." He said. "I never blamed you for arguing. I understood."

"I'm so sorry, though." Alma sniffled, and Stede stroked her hair. 

It was as if a damn had broken. Alma clung to her parents, and the Crew, and to Sarah-Lee, and somehow, the relationship between her and her family only became better. There were no more secrets, no more lies, and Alma readily embraced her new role as a sister to Sarah-Lee. The poor girl still didn't speak, even after a week. She rarely met anyone's eyes and followed Alma's lead like a newly born chick following its parent. But Lucius, resuming his teaching duties, reported to the Crew that the girl was already able to read and write a little, and that, behind her blank eyes, a mind as sharp and clever as Alma's and Louis slept, just waiting for the opportunity to be of use. 

It wasn't just the addition of Sarah-Lee into the household that changed. Every night, Izzy and Stede resumed their talks, but with a different angle. Instead of talking around topics, both Izzy and Stede chose to attack the difficult subjects head on. Stede talked about his own Ceremony, watching the blood of his best friend creep closer to him as he swallowed back vomit and clutched the hand of his new, unwanted wife. Izzy, somewhat reluctantly but willing to give as much as Stede, would venture in little stories about his hometown, that grey, miserable place. His mother, sadness forever in her eyes, and even the children he would venture to call his friends. 

Mostly, they talked about Ed. Izzy initially had trouble reconciling the two images of Ed in his mind, the man who had led their Crew, jovial and fierce and with Izzy's complete devotion, and that of the Krakeni, the monster who filled him with horror.

"Was he really so different?" Stede asked, holding a glass of wine. Izzy had chosen brandy, and was rolling the glass between his palms. 

"You didn't see how he looked?" Izzy said incredulously. "He had a fucking squid attached to his arse."

"That's not what I meant." Stede waved a hand idly. "Was he still Ed?"

Izzy swallowed and sat back, taking a sip and thinking. Was what he had seen, what his...whatever the fuck Ed was to him now...still the same man? Izzy, recognising what Stede was getting at, closed his eyes and thought. 

Ed was...tricky. He was moody, jovial, and turned his disposition on a penny. He was fierce, and clever, and had a light touch with life. He felt emotions strongly, and was impulsive and cautious and he loved deeply. He commanded people effortlessly, the Crew flocking to him almost magnetically. And in return, Ed gave them safety, and money, and his protection.

Protection...

Izzy thought back to the Ceremony. How the Krakeni, monstrous and huge, had made it obvious that the Bonnet family was...safe. He protected the girl, protected the family, and extended his influence to keep the Bonnets and the household safe. Izzy thought about that small hope, still sitting in his chest, had never died as the Ceremony went on. 

Somehow, he still believed in Ed's protection. 

"He's still...the same." Izzy finally whispered. "He's...protective."

"And maybe that's how he's always been." Stede said gently. "Maybe the Krakeni was never a performance."

"He's an Old God." Izzy pointed out.

"And he's still Ed." Stede countered, and fuck it, Izzy couldn't argue. 

Despite everything, despite the shock and the change and the betrayal, Izzy still knew Ed. That protectiveness, which had been the very firth thing that had drawn Izzy to Ed in the first place, was still there in the Krakeni. They were the same person, and Izzy felt something settle in him. It would take time, he knew. But one day, he might be able to look at the Krakeni and feel nothing but the love he had for Ed. 

...

7 days after the Ceremony, Izzy jerked up in bed after an odd dream. He was panting, covered in sweat, and already standing up and shoving trousers up his legs. He pulled on his boots, and walked briskly out of the house towards the stables. He wasn't surprised in the slightest to see Stede already there, tacking up Revenge. 

"You too?" Stede asked. Izzy nodded and went to get Queen Anne's tack, listening to the buckles jostle and Revenge whicker.

It had been such a simple dream. The tide wash gently against the beach, and the sky was clear, the stars shining. As the tide went out again, washing gently against his mind, Izzy had heard a whisper. 

'Come to the beach, Izzy. Come and meet me.'

Izzy wasn't a superstitious man, but he recognised a portent when he dreamt it. He knew, deep in his bones, that this was the signal that the Krakeni had told them about, and knew, as he climbed up on Queen Anne alongside Stede, that the man had been given the same summons. 

They rode silently together, both heading in the same direction. The anticipation was climbing as they followed the coast, not too close, but enough so that they could hear the sea. The stars shined above them, and Izzy knew that this was the start of something new. 

After about 20 minutes of riding, a lone tree appeared in front of them. Without a word, Stede slowed down and stopped, getting of Revenge and hooking her reins over a branch. Izzy did the same and, still in silence, they walked to the cliffs edge. There was a narrow pathway down to the beach that they took, and soon, they watched the tide wash up on the beach they had dreamt about. Izzy sat down on the sand, and Stede sat beside him. Their knees touched. 

The wash of the sea did nothing to soothe their nerves. Stede looked at Izzy out of the corner of his eye, and, as Izzy met his gaze, he gave a shaky smile. "How are you doing?" He asked. 

Izzy let out a trembling breath. "Haven't a fucking clue."

"Me neither." Stede laughed, and then wiped his face. 

Neither could say later how long they sat on the sand, before something alerted them, and they stood. As a black mark started to move closer in the water, Stede grabbed Izzy's hand. Izzy turned his head and met Stede's eyes, suddenly feeling thankful for him.

"Whatever happens, I'll be here with you." Stede whispered, and Izzy squeezed his hand in reply.

They held their breaths as the tide seemed to part, and a man emerged. His long grey hair was heavy with water, as he swept it over his shoulder. His clothes were unusual, leather and close fitting, certainly not in fashion nowadays. The jacket show a sliver of his belly and had the right arm missing. At his neck was the familiar sting of pearls. The sea dripped down his arms as he walked out of the salt water and looked at Stede and Izzy.

"Hello." He said softly, and the world turned in that moment.

Chapter Text

Izzy felt like Stede was squeezing all of the blood from his fingers, but for the life of him, he could find it in himself to object. He knew that he was squeezing back as hard. 

Ed, sensing the tension, took a single step forward. As one, Stede and Izzy took a step back, and then felt absolutely terrible as Ed's face dropped into heartbroken confirmation. He reached up to worry his pearls, and Izzy felt something in his heart squeeze when he saw the familiar movement. Somehow, despite everything, Ed's tells were still the same. 

Stede looked at Izzy, so focused on Ed that the world seemed to have disappeared to him, and then back at Ed, who was starting to nibble his lips. He took a deep breath and walked forwards, not releasing Izzy's hand so that the man was dragged along behind him. 

The moonlight was as bright as the sun, and the waves washed gently at their boots. Up close, the clothes that Ed was wearing were all the more mysterious. Stede had never seen dress like that before, and was amazed that the leather hadn't been more damaged by the salt. But there was an ease in which Ed wore them. The leather looked buttery soft, and as Ed hooked his thumbs into his belt loops and stood back on his heels, it portrayed someone to whom the clothes were as familiar as his skin. 

Izzy squeezed Stede's hand one final time and then released it, looking up at Ed's face. He flinched sharply when he met his eyes, and then felt terrible when he saw Ed's bottom lip tremble slightly. But he couldn't blame himself entirely. 

Ed might look like the man he'd known, dressed in different clothes and with his wild hair loose, but no human on the planet had pupils as wide and wavy as Ed's. One look, and it was clear that Ed was Something Else. 

"I'm sorry." Ed finally breathed, and the incredibly tense atmosphere seemed to lessen. His voice carried nothing but sorrow and shame, and he tore his eyes away from Izzy and looked at his feet, as the waves swept over his boots and seemed to caress his ankles. "I'm sorry for lying to you."

"Oh, Ed." Stede whispered, tears in his voice. He reached out and gently laid a hand on his shoulder. The leather of his jacket was already dry, and in the back of Stede's mind, he recognised surprise that there leather was as warm and smooth as he had wondered. No trace of salt from the sea crusting the folds, no cracking or dryness. Whatever magic Ed had, he clearly used it to take care of his clothes. 

"I'm just...I didn't know how to tell you." Ed's breath hitched. He abruptly raised his hands to rub his face, and Stede and Izzy stayed where they stood. "It was just...too much. How could I tell you and expect you to continue to look at me with love in your eyes?"

Izzy used every ounce of his self-restraint to not flinch away at rawness of the words. For all that Izzy and Ed had been together, they'd never really spoken the words of love to each other. It seemed to be as if they'd never needed it, always so sure of each other's affection.

Or, at least in the past.

Recently, Izzy had been wondering. Maybe those stupid fucking words being said even once would have been...nice. Gave Izzy a sense of surety about his place in Ed's life. Made him even happy about being with Ed. Maybe, he could have even said it back. 

The sea breeze swept through them, and Stede and Izzy couldn't help but shiver. Ed seemed to be immune to the cold, still wiping the tears from his face, and looking at the both of them with heartbroken, unusual eyes. 

"We can't stay out here." Stede finally said. He took a hand away and rubbed his arms, looking up the cliff to where the horses were tied. "How about...we go back to the house?"

"All of us?" Ed said softly, his voice hopeful. Izzy felt something tighten in his stomach, at the plaintive nature of the question. 

"All of us." Stede said firmly, and turned, walking back to the cliff and starting up the path. Izzy and Ed caught each others eyes, before Izzy, seeing those pupils, tore his eyes away and stormed up the beach. When he looked over his shoulder and saw that Ed was still standing in the surf, his face curled up intro frustration. 

"You planning to become a statue? Move your fucking arse!" He snapped, and Ed actually jerked and then grinned, striding out of the water and following him up the cliff. 

They all got back up to the top in silence, and the horses, sensing Ed, snapped their heads. Revenge whinnied softly, and Stede went to her head to gentle her. 

"It's ok, darling." He whispered, and Izzy went to Queen Anne, hoisting himself into the saddle and settling back. He looked on as Stede climbed up on Revenge, and then both of them looked at Ed. He looked at them both, unsure what to do.

"You going to run back?" Izzy finally snapped, and Ed jerked. He walked to Stede and climbed up on his back, wrapping his arms around Stede's waist and resting his chin on Stede's shoulder. Izzy, feeling slightly hollow, snapped Queen Anne's reins and set off for the house. Stede watched him go and sighed, looking at Ed out of the corner of his eye.

"Really?" He said. He felt Ed sigh deeply. 

"I don't think he would have allowed me to climb on." Ed muttered, burying his face into the back of Stede's shirt. Stede pursed his lips, feeling the tension from Izzy even as the man galloped away, and then spurred Revenge to follow. 

The night was cool and quiet, clouds starting to cover the moon, and they managed to get through the gate without any mishap. As they walked into the stables, they were surprised to see Buttons already untacking Queen Anne and putting everything away, her stable door opened and everything ready for a good rubdown. 

"Mr Buttons?" Stede asked, feeling Ed slide off of Revenge.

"Mr Hands is already inside." Buttons said, not looking at either of them. Stede and Ed shared a confused glance, and then, deciding to follow his instincts, Stede handed the reins of Revenge over to Buttons.

"Please take care of them." He said, and Buttons nodded. Stede and Ed stood in the doorway of the stables, watching as the man positively cooed to the horses, and then turned and walked into the house. Neither of them said a word. Truthfully, neither of them knew what to say.

They didn't dare say anything without Izzy. It was an unspoken rule that everything that was to come, every sentence and argument, was to be made between the 3 of them. 

None of them had fully realised what that meant, but they were all subconsciously ready to go forwards together. 

At least, that's what Stede and Ed felt. What Izzy was feeling, especially since he gone on ahead and gauging his reactions at this point in time was difficult, was another matter. But Stede was confident of assuming what Izzy wanted, confidence born of the past 7 evenings talking with Izzy, secrets laid bare and both of them searching for the truth in the man that had become so dear to them. 

As one, Stede and Ed walked into the house. The occupants were deep in sleep, and Ed, without Stede noticing, waved a hand to make sure that they all slept deeply until morning (or unless they really needed to wake up.) He had a feeling that the upcoming discussion might get...loud...and didn't want anyone to notice until they were all ready.

Walking into the office was a strange combination of freeing and contracting. One the one hand, Ed could feel the ready relief of having no more secrets, of finally being able to tell Izzy and Stede his story, and knowing that the next few minutes (or hours) were going to be quite emotionally uncomfortable. Izzy, ahead of them and needing something to do, had already lit the candles and gently started a small fire. He wasn't looking at either of them, keeping his hands and mind busy, and it was only when Stede closed the door and the air become still when Izzy closed his eyes, took in a deep breath, and turned to look at Ed.

"Was anything the truth?" He asked. Ed flinched sharply, looking agonised. He turned to find some strength in Stede, but, to his surprise (and secret relief) Stede had moved to rest a hand on Izzy's arm to steady him. Stede was feeling a similar rocking of emotion, but he wasn't so stupid as to assume that what Izzy was feeling wasn't greater, wasn't bigger, wasn't more hurt. 

Izzy had known Ed the longest. Loved him the longest. Stede would act as the medium between the two, and hope that they all exited the office with a new understanding. Maybe even new relationships.

Ed took in a shaky breath and ran his hands through his hair. It tangled slightly, and Ed angrily ripped his fingers through. His beard was equally tanged, and for a moment, he looked as wild as his eyes suggested. Then his shoulders slumped, and he looked at Izzy sadly. 

"I am Ed, that much is true." He started. "I'm still the man who know, never been hiding that much. But...I'm...more."

"You're an Old God." Izzy snapped, and then bit his lips. Anger, confusion and betrayal were swirling in his breast, and he was thankful for Stede's steadying hand on his arm. Otherwise, Izzy would have done or said something that he couldn't take back, and then he would lose Ed forever. 

Izzy wanted the truth. He didn't know if he could survive losing Ed again. 

"I'm half. Half a monster. My mother is human. I told you about her, she gave me the red neckerchief." Ed whispered, pulling said fabric out of his jacket pocket and offering it to the two men. Both men swayed forward slightly, drawn in by the red silk. 

"How is that possible?" Stede whispered. 

Ed shrugged, looking out of the widow and worrying the silk in his hands. "Fucked if I know. Ma didn't even know why she lived and many others didn't."

"You asked her?" Izzy asked, walking forwards. He didn't step close enough for Ed to touch, but was still close enough that Ed could smell him. Something in him was soothed. His first human was close and talking to him, and therefore was safe. 

"'Course I did." Ed shrugged. The...Old...part of his brain, the one that he didn't listen to 99% of the time, didn't like that Stede was still standing further away than he would like. He would prefer having his men close, close enough for all of his limbs to envelop them and keep them safe. "I asked her all the time, growing up. I was fucking lonely, and Ma was the only person who told me the truth. I saw what happened to the other, knew the stories and the results, and somehow, she was still there." Ed snorted with brief laughter, thinking back. "She got pregnant, birthed me, and was still fucking alive and sane."

"She sounds...remarkable." Stede said softly, giving him a small smile.

"She is." 

"She's still alive?" Izzy asked. Ed nodded. 

"I always make sure Ma is safe. I owe everything to her. Wouldn't be standing in front of you if it wasn't for her. I'd be like...you know..." Ed gestured vaguely over his shoulder, which somehow encompassed the whole of the Regime that they were living under. 

"You attribute all of that to her influence?" Stede said softly. He too moved forward, and Ed again resisted the urge to grab him and draw him to his side. 

"She's the best person I know. And she didn't need to be. Was difficult enough raising me, being what I was and where I was growing up. She made sure that I knew that I was human, and taught me to act like it."

"Where did you grow up, Ed?" Izzy finally asked. He sounded both exhausted and intrigued, and was desperate to know more. Ed had always been so spare on the details of his life. Having Ed willingly volunteer details was almost more than he could stand, he was so eager. 

Ed flashed the both of them a smile, with his teeth temporarily morphing from his usual human veneers to the sharp, pointed, shark-like ones from the Ceremony and then back again, and then strode over to Stede's chair. He threw himself down into it, and, as one, Stede and Izzy settled into chairs opposite him, Izzy in his own chair, Stede pulling out a stool and settling it onto it without a trace of shame. 

Ed took a deep breath, drawing in courage. This was going to be the first time that he would tell his story, tell anyone who he really was. And it was going to be to the 2 most important people in his life. 

He didn't want to fuck it up. 

In hindsight, the fact that Elizabeth wasn't even a Lady-In-Waiting was somewhat hilarious. 

She was a maid. Just a maid, working the household and keeping to the corners, and somehow, she had been deemed important enough to join in these...experiments. One minute, she was cleaning rooms and avoiding the twittering, bejewelled birds that were noble members of the court, and the next, she was being dragged out of her bed in the middle of the fucking night and was standing infront of a group of men in white robes, looking at her like she was both made of gold and the dirtiest thing on the bottom of their shoes. 

"You are...Elizabeth Teach?" One of the said, peering at a piece of parchment. Elizabeth was smart enough to keep her head down and eyes away, and tried to keep her hands still in front of her. The stone floor was cold, and she could see her nipples pebbling through the dress. A quick glance up showed her that one of the men had noticed as well, and couldn't look away. 

"Are you sure she could be one? She's very...dark." Another man gestured to her, and she swallowed down a burst of anger. 

"And she's not noble. We all know that noble blood is superior, that it might actually succeed!" A younger member of the congregation exclaimed, and Elizabeth flinched. Shame now warred with the anger, and she reassured herself that she hadn't come across half the world, hidden in the bottom of a boat, and learnt the language to get a job as a maid in a Royal Household for nothing. 

She was stronger than that, and she would endure anything they threw at her.

"She's foreign. And a different race. She might actually live." A quiet voice at there back of the men said, and they all parted. The man who strode forwards was young, and handsome, and very talented. He wasn't wearing the white robes of the scientists, and instead was wearing a heavy, broached fur coat. 

The King. 

Elizabeth knelt quickly, and didn't say anything. The King stood before her, and looked at her head. Something in his hands twitched, and, for a single moment, the world could have been different if he had refused. 

But Nyarlathotep, his Master, whispered in the back of his mind, urging his forward. And so the King turned, and looked at the scientists, and nodded. In unison, two of the men seized Elizabeth's arms and walked her firmly out of the room. She turned to look over her shoulder, looking for someone, anyone, to help her. To help her understand what was happening.

But she met the King's small, cold blue eyes, and knew that she was completely alone. 

...

If she ignored the circumstances in which she was in (and she couldn't, although Lord knows she did try), she could see her life as an upgrade. She was now in a dormitory with women, all from a much higher class than she, and she could cautiously say that at least her sleeping quarters had improved. The bed was wide and soft, with an actual feather mattress and duvet, and a large plump pillow. The room was regularly cleaned by her former colleagues who wouldn't meet her eyes, and, even though the only thing she was permitted to wear at that moment was her shift, even the clothing had been improved, becoming soft linen with exquisite embroidery. 

All of this still wasn't enough to distract from the fact that Elizabeth felt like a cow waiting for slaughter. 

Her fellow...honourees...were all vapid and annoying. Their talk was nothing more than of jewels, money and the prestige they were assuming was due to them for participating in this trial, without any thought about what this trial could be. Indeed, not one of them had a clue, and yet, there was only discussions of what they might be able to squeeze out of people and what honour they might bring to their families. 

Elizabeth had no family. And no money, beside what pitiful salary she had been afforded. And the second she opened her mouth and her fellows heard her accent, she had been roundly isolated. 

But Elizabeth had thick skin. She was used to this, mainly due to her different coloured skin, and simply spent her time in her bed, catching up on the years of sleep she'd been missing. 

A month after being shoved into this tapestry lined prison, the man who amounted to the lead scientist walked into the room. The ladies all curtseyed, except Elizabeth at the back of the room, and waited for him to speak. 

"Congratulations, my Ladies!" He said, spreading out his hands. "You have been chosen by our Great Old Gods to partake in an honoured ritual!"

The women tittered and giggled, and Elizabeth felt something uncomfortable swoop in her stomach. 

She knew of the Old Gods. Even in Aotearoa they'd heard of them, and what they were doing to the rest of the world. This was not good. 

"In a couple of days, you will all have the privilege of bearing the young and offspring of the Great Gods which have blessed this Kingdom!" The scientist said, sounding in ecstasies. "This is been afforded to England for our duty to their cause, and our respect and sacrifice. No other women in the country have been awarded this honour!"

Dead. Silence. Now the women were no longer laughing. Instead, a few of the younger ones started to cry, and they all looked at each other in horror. 

It was all very well and good occasionally praying to them Old Gods. They were used to their temples and images in their houses. But to bear the children of monsters?

This was not what these ladies were expecting. 

"My...Lord?" A small woman with bright blond hair stepped forward, worrying her hands. "Won't this be..." She trailed off, unable to voice what everything was thinking.

"Why?" Elizabeth said from the back, sounding stronger than she was feeling. 

The scientist drew himself up. "It is the belief of the Old Ones, as written down in the Sacred Texts, that they might fully rule us with the Fairness and Generosity that they have wrought if they feel like they have truly become Us. This is why they have chosen to sully their blood by mixing it with that of humans. To bear a child will be a great honour!"

"And if it kills us?" A sharp tongued woman said, eyes flashing. "What if we die?"

"Some of you may die," The scientist shrugged, already looking bored. "But it is a sacrifice we are willing to make."

It was as if the air had been sucked out of the room. Elizabeth looked up at the windows, wondering if she could climb out. But they were too high up. Even standing on the shoulders of another person, she wouldn't be able to reach them.

The scientist looked at the now weeping mass of women, and his lip curled in disgust. "Compose yourselves. The first ritual will take place in 2 days. The women will be brought back here for their lying in, so I suggest you look after each other." With that, he left, and for once, Elizabeth could feel like she was accepted in the group. 

They were all sharing the same feeling of horror, dismay and terror. For the first time, no one was isolated. 

They started on schedule. Two days later, a hour after breakfast had been served, a couple of guards and a scientist, a young man with dead eyes and a soulless smile, walked into the room and pointed at one of the youngest there. A girl of only 16, who screamed and begged as she was dragged out of the room. Everyone else huddled together, and Elizabeth, who was barely in her 20's and felt immeasurably old, held two of the remaining youngest against her and tried to soothe their cries of terror. 

They all sat in silence, waiting for something to happen. What, they didn't know, but something. 

The women who was taken came back, in then evening, When everything had gone dark, she was carried back into the room and laid gently on her bed. A lady only a year older than Elizabeth leant over her, checking something, and then jerked back and, in a movement that had been banned, crossed herself. 

"She is cursed. We all are." She whispered, and suddenly, Elizabeth was surrounded by the sounding of screaming. The girl simply stared at the ceiling, mind gone. 

Whatever had happened to her (which Elizabeth had something to do with the slowly growing stain of red between her legs) had rendered her a blank slate. 

Elizabeth swallowed down fear vomit, and hugged her girls tighter. 

The next day, the girl who had been taken exploded, showering everyone with blood, viscera and something that wriggled furiously and then dissipated with a snap and a heinous smell. The women in the room all collapsed as one, shrieking and wailing and pissing in fear. Elizabeth finally gave in to her feelings and vomited over the side of her bed, starting to cry for the very first time. 

She didn't want to die. 

...

It was a slaughter. That was the only way to describe what happened. Every couple of days, girls would be taken. 

They would either not return, or come back blank. Some gibbered and moaned, some simply stared blankly at the ceiling. All of them died within a week. 

Some exploded. Some simply stopped drinking, dying of dehydration. One young woman, who shrieked every time a shadow appeared in the corner of her eye, was sucked dry, her skin adhering to her skeleton and her eyes missing when they awoke one morning. 

Every one of them managed to develop some kind of belly before they went, evidence of what unholy ritual was taking place. Even the most sheltered and innocent of the girls in that room knew what was happening, and this only compounded to their terror. Every lady in that room had been prepared since birth for marriage, childbirth, and giving their husbands sons. 

They had not been prepared for this. 

Over the course of that winter, as the room cooled and snow collected on the windows, the group of women became smaller and smaller and somehow, closer. This made every woman taken, and then brought back, all the more precious, and therefore, it was all the more painful when they came back...changed.

If they came back at all. 

The room was still cleaned daily, especially if a woman...

They were still fed meals that would make the King weep.

They were even given embroidery hoops and luxurious thread, to keep themselves occupied. (But not books. Gods forbid they managed to educate themselves. No one wants a clever woman, they might start arguing back!)

And this felt more like torture than whatever happened in the Tower. 

As December went past, and the women, now numbering into the single digits, heard the Christmas Celebrations from the main part of the castle, Elizabeth, now the second oldest person in the room, managed to persuade one of her former colleagues (a maid who hadn't been so bad to her when she first arrived) to pilfer some rolls, meat and vegetables, and the women in the room held a small Christmas celebration. They each gifted each other the small needlework projects, and Elizabeth, using sterilised needles and ink she'd made herself, gave each of the women and herself a Kirituhi tattoo on their ring fingers. 

They might not be getting married, but at least, in those moments, they would be married to themselves. 

However small the celebration, however, it didn't mean that the horror of what was happening to them. Every couple of days, one of them would disappear, and now no one was coming back. 

They all weren't so stupid as to think that this meant that anyone had survived. 

On the 28th of December, Elizabeth struggled against the guards as they dragged the last girl, the youngest of the entire bunch at only 15, out of the room. She screamed and reached for Elizabeth, calling her "Mama!" and begging for her help. 

Elizabeth sent herself into unconsciousness with her crying, and awoke to an empty room, and curled herself up into her sheets, wetting the pillowcase with her tears. 

When they came for her, on the 31st, she was ready. She didn't want to die, whatever happened to her. She tore her soft and luxurious sheets to pieces, and, when arrived in the room, she had wrapped them around her eyes twice. She had also stuffed rags into her ears and secured them with the head wrappings, and so she sat on her bed, completely blind and deaf. She jumped when a guards touched her arm, and allowed them to guide her out of the room. 

She would never be able to properly gauge how long they walked for, later. It felt like both an eternity and like she was in the next room. But eventually, she was taken to a place where the hairs in her nose froze, and she smelt salt and brine. Something reverberated in her ears, and she gritted her teeth. 

Elizabeth was made to kneel, and slapped whenever someone tried to remove her bindings. So she was taken completely by surprise when, all of a sudden, her shift was stripped from her body, and she was forcibly made to lie on her back on a freezing stone slab. Her legs were forced open and secured with uncomfortable leather straps, and, as she closed her eyes and prayed to Tangaroa-whakamau-tai, her personal God, for protection, she felt something lean over her. 

Something else touched her between her legs, and her mind fled in that instant. Whatever it was, wasn't human. 

And Elizabeth didn't want to remember anything. 

...

She woke up. 

This, she was surprised by. She had no idea how long she'd been unconscious, but, as she turned over and looked out of the window, she could see a spring morning. 

Moreover, she wasn't in the room. She was somewhere different, with rich, luscious tapestries on the walls and an actually 4-poster bed. Her shift was somehow even more luxurious, and her long black hair was carefully braided. Over the back of a chair was a dressing down of burgundy, with heavy brocade.

Elizabeth swollen back her fear and sat up. And then she looked down and started to weep. 

Her belly was small, barely a bump. But it was there.

She was pregnant. 

...

Even Elizabeth, as a first time mother, knew that a pregnancy was only supposed to last 9 months. She had already lost 4, in an unconscious state, and, as the only woman who had somehow survived the ritual and was still carrying a viable baby, she was suddenly elevated to the upper classes that she used to sometimes dream of. 

Now, every time someone laced up her dress, and brushed out her hair, and put on her hood, she felt sick. Every time someone she used to work with bowed to her, and averted their eyes, and made her feel dirty, she felt sick.

Every time she was marched into court, and was made to stand amongst the ladies who looked at her like she was both sacred and filth, she felt sick. 

It was...uncomfortable. Her belly grew, and the scientists salivated at her appointments. Not just for the possibility of power and prestige that she promised, but also as her naked body as she changed. At the way her breasts and nipples grew bigger, as he belly widened, as her face thickened slightly and her hair grew more lustrous. 

She should have hated this. Hated what had happened to her. And she did. She loathed being stared at, and how everyone was focused on her growing belly like it held the secrets of the universe. 

But she didn't hate her son. 

And it was a son. She knew, in that same way mothers always knew. It was a boy, and a wriggly one at that. She felt him first move during the summer, when the heat was oppressive and everyone wandered around like they were in a dream. A small brush up her side, and then another, and suddenly, one morning, her belly heaved with movement. The maid who was dressing her shrieked as limbs, more than a person should have, caused her belly to ripple, and she ran out of the room. 

Elizabeth laughed. For the first time since leaving her home, she had something that truly belonged to her. She hugged her belly, and somehow, her son, her wriggly little one, seemed to sense her and quieted. 

She was still observed every hour she was awake. On one occasion, the King, curious about her shifting abdomen, gave orders for her to be stripped in court, and she was. She stood there, burring, and the look she gave to the King promised untold misery. His wife, a thin pale waif of a women who was also pregnant, touched the Kings arm in fear. 

But nothing came of it. She was bundled up in a gown and sent away, but from them on, she avoided the court whenever she could. 

Summer stretched into Autumn, and still her belly grew. Her son moved every day, and Elizabeth started to notice what liquid, whenever she was near it, was being drawn to her. She wandered the palace gardens, always with an entourage of white robed scientists at her beck and call, and whispered stories to her son. Of her past, of his future. 

Of what she prayed would happen. 

In October, the Kings wife delivered his heir. Elizabeth was still pregnant, still growing. She spent her days in dressing gowns and shifts, and could no longer see her feet. And still her son grew, becoming bigger and moving more. In the back of her mind, she was afraid of birthing this enormous baby. Would she split apart on his limbs? Would she simply burst, like those poor girls in that room?

Would she live?

Nearly 12 months to the day of the ritual, Elizabeth awoke to her bed soaked in water. Her belly heaved and a sharp pain shot down her spine, and she cried out in agony. It was her time, she knew. 

Normally, she would have been attended by women, the room closed to men. But nothing was natural about her pregnancy, and so she was surrounded by those white robed men, all looking at her and seeing a vessel, not anything human. She growled and sweated and swore, cursing them, the King, the Old Gods. She felt like something was wrong, and so, in the way that would serve her the best in life, she listened to herself. 

When it was time, she pushed the men aside, braced herself on the headboard of the bed whilst squatting, and dug her chin into her chest and pushed. The men twittered at her, someone writing something down, and all Elizabeth could see was her belly stiffening. 

'Come one, Edward.' She thought, pleading. 'Come to me, my boy. I'll keep you safe, I promise.'

She thought she would die. She wept with the pain as her cunt widened, more than was natural. She groaned deep in her chest, and pushed. And when one of the scientists came forward to examine her, wanting to touch her between her legs, she braced her arms and kicked him in the nose. 

Edward Teach was born in the middle of the night. She exited her in a rush of liquid, sea water and blood. The scientists all exclaimed in horror and amazement as they saw the new baby, already with a thick head of hair, wriggling on the bed. Where there should have been legs, there was a writhing mass of tentacles. All dusky purple with bright purple spots. 

"A true God." One man whispered. He reached forward, wanting to take the babe. But Elizabeth, who was still recovering, threw herself over her baby with a snarl. 

"You touch him, I take your hand!" She screamed, drowning out the cries of her baby. 

"That is a God, Madame!" Another scientist cried out, and she whirled on him.

"I shall take your throat if you remove him from me!"

The silence in the room was absolute, even the new baby quieting at her statement. Satisfied that she had made her point, she settled back on the bed and reached down, picking up Edward. She wiped him down in a sheet and then wrapped him in her shift, cooing at him. The baby's lips puckered and she allowed him to latch onto her breast, sighing as he drank his first milk.

The room receded from her mind. There was only her son, and for the moment, Elizabeth was content. 

...

In hindsight, the greatest mistake that those scientists ever made was allowing Elizabeth to keep her son. She was still only one woman, they simply could have ripped Edward out of her arms. They could have given him to his Father, or to the King, or kept him to be experimented on. 

They could have given him to Nyarlothotep, who had been in the Void during the pregnancy, and who almost certainly would have twisted Edward into becoming the monster that his tentacles promised. 

But they allowed Elizabeth to keep him. They reasoned that having a human influence over the Young God would be of a benefit to them. Maybe it would make their petitions and offering to their Master's have more weight, with Edward a their side. Maybe they would be able to profit from him. After all, it was obvious when, after a week of life, his tentacles shifted and become plump little human legs, that the boy had magic. 

They were right, in a way. Elizabeth did mange to exert influence of her son. But not the kind that they wanted. She exhibited no fear for her boy, whose enormous brown eyes were enticing and laughing, and spent everyday with him. When he started to toddle around, she could be found holding his hand, helping him when his control failed and his tentacles replaced his legs. She held him as he struggled to move, teaching him how to walk in both forms. 

One limb after the other. 

They appeared in court when he was 3, already breached and holding his mother's hand. Their clothes were some of the finest in the room, and Edward clutched his mother's hand as he stared at all of the people who looked back at him like he was...

A monster.

And he was. Even Elizabeth couldn't deny that her boy wasn't human. If his pupils weren't enough of a giveaway, the control he exerted over water, the weather, the sky was enough. He could render even the sunniest of days obsolete with rainclouds, and Elizabeth was forever chasing after him when he saw a body of water he thought he could swim in. The water positively reached for him, and he'd ruined more than one pair of breaches by simply tearing through them as he transformed. 

So he wasn't human. The heir, that spoilt little brat who regularly rendered her son to tears with his taunts, couldn't even act as Edward's playmate. Her boy was alone.

He could have turned into a monster. Certainly, there was enough bitterness. 

But Elizabeth was in control. So she taught him to be human. She taught him to watch humanity, to emulate their feelings and embrace medieval ideas of chivalry and honour. She touch him compassion and yes, love, because he loved his mother. She taught him forgiveness, and turning the other cheek. 

She also taught him when revenge and justice were necessary, because she was still a flawed human being.

So Edward grew up in 2 worlds. The court, which saw him as a monster and a saviour at the same time. Who showered him in gifts, money, jewels and land, and reviled him at the same time. And there was Elizabeth, who comforted her boy when his feelings were confused, when he didn't know what he was, and when, during those rare evenings, he simply let go and spent an evening in their rooms in his Old form, tentacles out and lounging in a tub of water as he played chess with his mother. 

But soon, their world contracted, and one night, the King died. His son was now the monarch, and immediately gave offerings to Nyarlothotep, the Void, and the Old Gods. Edward, who had been summoned to the Ceremony for the first time in his life, returned shaking and weak from horror, and collapsed into his mother's arms.

"What happened, Ed?" Elizabeth asked gently. 

"Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck fuck fuck." Ed whispered, and then vomited. 

There was blood on the knees of his stockings. 

The next month, as the new king started signing declarations and orders to honour his monstrous Patrons and secure more of the land, Elizabeth executed their escape. 

She wasn't stupid. She had been planning this for a while, ever since Nyarlothotep had looked at her son, her Edward, and given him such a black, horrifyingly satisfied smile that she felt like she might burst into tears right there. 

And so she sold all the land given to her. Cash buy. She sold the jewels, the furs, the tapestries. She sold her furnishings, and her wardrobe, and everything that might given them even an extra shilling. She packed only a small bag for herself and Edward, and cut her hair close to her scalp. She dirtied her skin, as her son did, and they dressed in the garb of servants. 

And they simply walked out of the palace, disguised as the help, and were too far away to be summoned back when it was realised what the palace had lost. 

...

They ended up in the North, amongst the wilderness and where people didn't even know who Edward was. Edward, who was only 20 and had spent his entire life at court, was temporarily overwhelmed by the outside environment. He didn't know what to do with everything, having never even cooked for himself, and so Elizabeth took charge until her son could get his bearings. She bought a small house in the middle of a field, and cleared the land around it enough to plant a vegetable garden. She bought some chickens, and made friends with the local farmer for milk and occasional meat, and, after so long, finally felt like herself again.

Ed floundered. He struggled, not just with the new environment, but also with the helplessness that having everything at your beck and call gives you. He didn't even know how to make his own bed, and spent many days walking around their small house, a helpless look on his face. 

His eyes, now shifted to human, were wet with frustration. 

Elizabeth, sensing a need for some kind of work in her son, taught him to cook. She set him on the path of a baker, and Edward loved kneading dough to work out his feelings. He could make such exquisite loaves and pies that Elizabeth was able to bring in a small income from selling them on Market days at the local village. Edward also learnt how to sew, how to chop wood (made easier by having multiple limbs) and how to tend the garden. 

He already knew how to hunt, but now he learnt the fine art of stalking. He could follow a deer for hours without it knowing, before surging forward. Those nights, Edward and Elizabeth ate very well. 

The isolation was enough, however, that Edward, for the first time properly, could experiment with his own powers. With Elizabeth keeping watch, he would learn to control his size, growing taller as he wanted. He mastered the art of water control, of drawing in and taking away clouds, of summoning rain. He even learned (but never mastered) the skill of manipulating human minds. But he only experimented on this with his mother, as he was too scared to do it on other people.

And Elizabeth, secure in her mission, taught her son how to continue to be human. During Market days, he learnt how to effortlessly charm people into buying his baking. His natural good looks helped, his hair now growing longer than perhaps was fashionable, and both him and Elizabeth adding to the tattoos they had been cultivating. But here, in the middle of nowhere, Edward learnt how to be a human in a crowd. 

He made friends. Not close friends, but young men who drank together and worked in the fields during the summer. He learnt to sing bawdy songs, to climb into a table and dance, and to defend those who needed it when friendliness was taken too far. He learnt to play with the young children, especially down by the creek during fine days, when summoning small gusts of wind would make their sailboats race each other, and Edward delighted in their shrieks of happiness. 

He never forgot who he was. Some evenings, Elizabeth would follow her son out of the house and see him staring at the water in the creek, the surface black and roiling, and the magic exuding from her son enough to make her choke. 

"The King is dead." He said one evening, turning to look at his mother with wide eyes and rectangular pupils, and the lower half of his body writhing in agitation.

"Are you alright?" She asked, and he shrugged.

"They're looking for me. Want me to ratify what they did, give the new monarch the same legitimacy." Edward said in a low voice, and she hugged him.

"I won't let you go back." She whispered into his hair, and he hugged his mother back, squeezing her as tight as he dared. 

"I don't want to be like them. I never fucking want to be like them!" He swore, and Elizabeth nodded. 

"You keep listening to me, my lad. You're just as human as I am, and I'll make sure you remember."

Izzy and Stede gazed at Ed, who was sitting on the edge of the chair, staring at his hands. 

"She did all of that. Endured all of that, simply for me." He said in a low, chocked voice. "Worst thing that could have happened to a person, and she still remained the best women I know. Taught me everything."

"She sounds...remarkable." Stede whispered, and Ed snorted wetly. He sat back to wipe his eyes, and stared at Izzy and Stede. 

"She's great. Still making bread, still gardening." Ed looked up, and grinned for the first time that evening. "Keeps me straight, you know. Any time I have a wobbly, I go talk to her."

Izzy finally unstuck his throat, and leant forward. "Why, Eddie?" He rasped. Ed's face fell slightly, but he met Izzy's eyes, and Izzy felt proud of himself when he didn't flinch at the unnaturalness of Ed's pupils. "Why are you fighting with us? Why do you want them out?"

Ed let out a deep breath and sat back, running his hands through his hair. The hair had dried by this point, and was curling and tangling slightly, and Ed, without thinking, gently worked out the tangles as he thought. Izzy's fingers twitched as he watched, suddenly wanting nothing more than to gently run a brush through it and look after Ed's hair. 

Jim, many years ago, had introduced the concept of a worry object. They had their knife. Ivan, when no one was looking, bounced a ball against the wall as he thought. 

Izzy brushed and played with Ed's hair. 

"I hate them, Izzy." Ed finally whispered, and, as one, Izzy and Stede leant in close. "I loathe them. I know what they can do, what they are fucking doing to people. I'll always have a toe in that world, for as long as I live. I'll never escape it. No matter how hard I try and fit in, I'll never fully succeed."

Ed looked at them both, and there were tears in his eyes. "And I hate it. I fucking hate being even half. I want humanity to win, don't get me wrong. What's happening to you is abominable, and wrong, and should never have happened in the first place. But it has. It has, and so many people have died for...them. They want blood, and subservience, and just...the horror of it all. And it's wrong, so, really, that's at least part of the reason why I fight."

"But, truthfully," Ed said, and a tear slipped down his cheek. "I hate having the reminder of what I am. What I could be. And if they're gone, there's nothing to compare me against. I won't have to look in a fucking mirror and see an abomination. I'll just be Ed, who's weird and had stupid fucking eyes. And is human. That's all I want. That's why I fight. I'm fucking selfish. But yeah, that's the honest fucking deal. I want to save humanity, and I want to save myself."

It was too much for Stede to remain still, especially in the face of Ed crying without making a sound. He flew out of his chair and wrapped his arms around Ed and hugged him, sobbing himself softly into his shoulder. "You're still Ed, darling!" He exclaimed. "That's what you'll always be!"

"You sure?" Ed said, sounding chocked. Izzy stood up slowly and watched them. 

"Always, Ed. You're still the same man, you've just got...extra parts." Stede said, pulling away slightly. He placed a hand on Ed's cheek and rubbed his cheekbone with his thumb. 

Ed snorted uglily, and shook his head. "Extra parts? Mate, I can turn into an octopus!"

"A quirk of nature!" Stede waved a hand. "Like my blond hair, or Izzy's lovely voice. It's just something you can do. Doesn't change the fact that you're so brave, and caring, and you want to do your best under horrific circumstances. You'll always be Ed, darling. Always Ed, no matter what."

It was too much for Ed to resist. He surged forwards, and kissed Stede soundly, and Stede answered back with equal fervour. They kissed furiously, each seeming want to devour the other, and wrapped their arms around each other so tightly it seemed like they would never let go.

Izzy left the room, closing the door softly behind him. He walked to the servants door and went downstairs, feeling heavy and as if there was water in his ears. Getting to his room, he shut the door and locked it, before crossing the room and sitting on the edge of his bed. Only then, when he was seated and still, did he unclench his left hand. His nails came away bloody, and he idly noted that he needed something to treat his new cuts. 

As he rubbed his thumb against the palm of his hand, his heart settling from its racing and his mind finally slowly, he realised what had got himself so riled up wasn't the story. Although it explained...a lot...about how Ed acted, with everything else, Izzy felt like that was the tamest part of the evening. 

'No," He thought, as he stood up and got undressed, 'that wasn't it.' 

It wasn't Ed's story that had caused his heart to race. 

It was seeing Stede and Ed together. 

And feeling a lighting bolt of jealously in his chest, not just for Ed, but for Stede as well. 

Izzy looked around his room as he drew back the covers of his bed. There, on his desk, a book borrowed from Stede's library that the man himself had recommended. At the end of his bed, Ed's favourite dressing gown, stolen from his room that night that Ed had rescued them both and then disappeared. 

Upstairs, kissing with the passion of true love, both men. 

"Well...fuck." Izzy finally breathed out. He settled on his back and stared at the ceiling, the truth finally revealing itself in his mind. 

He wanted them both. Ed and Stede, together. 

With him. 

Izzy briefly considered redressing and going back up to join them, then decided not to. Not just to give them their space, but also because he'd only just had this revelation, and he needed time to process it. 

He would give them their evening. He needed his time alone. Izzy turned on his side and drew the covers up his shoulders, settling back against the pillows. 

Ed was back. The truth was known, in every respect. And Izzy was a patient man. 

He could wait. For whatever the future offered, he could wait. 

Chapter Text

The whole house, (with the exception of Buttons, who seemed to never sleep), slept in the next morning. It was easily 10 o'clock when Roach started cooking breakfast and the Crew trickled out of their rooms, all with wild bedhead and blinking sleepy eyes. Fang poured out tea and handed out cups, accepting quiet thanks. 

Izzy, who was the only one fully dressed, was sipping slowly on his pitch black coffee and picking at a bacon roll when there was a clattering sound, and Ed poked his head through the kitchen door. Everyone froze, even Izzy, who was watching to see what Ed or the Crew would do. 

No one moved. Even Jim froze, a pastry half way to their mouth.

"Uh...hi." Ed said weakly, and waved. 

There was a heave of movement. People jumped over the table, scrambled around the sides, and then huddled together, holding weapons (or the culinary equivalent) in their hands. Izzy was the only one who didn't move, and simply faded into the background, watching and monitoring to see how this would go. 

Ed, whose face had fallen at the scramble away from him, sighed deeply and walked into the room. Everyone shuffled further back, and Lucius, who had been shoved into the back and was perilously close to the stove, started squeaking in objection. Fang, beside him, hoisted him close. 

"So..." Ed started, and then stopped. He was wearing a bright yellow robe, and his hair was twisted into a top bun. "I think that...I need to...tell you some things?"

"Yeah, no shit man." Archie snorted. She was wielding a butterknife, and, in a move that had both Ed and Izzy frowning in confusion, was wrapping strands of garlic around her, Jim's and Oluwandes necks. "You're like...a fucking Old God."

"Monster." Frenchie nodded matter of factly, and Ed sighed and nodded, rubbing his face before sitting down and pouring himself tea. He gently spooned in his usual 7 sugars, and, somehow, this reminder of the Ed they'd always know did something to relax the Crew. Not entirely, they were still wary and somewhat scared, but, as they watched Ed take a sip after adding milk and sighed in contentment, they could see him.

"So, you guys need the truth. And I've been a dick, hiding it from you." Ed said. He didn't look at them, but tapped a nail against the scrubbed wooden table. 

"So..." Lucius said. Fang hoisted him higher, and his head poked above the crowd. "What are you, exactly?"

Ed gave them a grim smile. "I'm still an Old God. But, half. My Ma is human. She raised me."

The Crew looked at each other. 

"That's badass." Roach finally said, and everyone nodded. Ed finally gave them a small grin.

"She is. Without her, I wouldn't be...me. Ed."

"You're still Ed? Our boss?" Oluwande asked. 

"Of course!" Ed said, sitting back and spreading out his hands. "No change here! Well, aside from the obvious. Tentacles and all that shit."

"And magic." Frenchie muttered lowly, and the Crew nodded and murmured. 

"Ah, mostly weather magic. Came in really handy when I was-" Ed cut himself off, and then sighed. "Listen, I hid this from all of you. Every person in this room had been affected by the Old Gods. Everyone has gone through their shit. And everyone wants them gone. Including me."

"Really?" Black Pete asked, and Ed gave them all a grim smile. 

"Do you have any idea what it's like to look in a mirror, and feel nothing but loathing at the sight of your own eyes?"

The silence in the room was oppressive, and the Crew looked at each other, assessing the situation in that silent way that had knitted them all together in the beginning. Finally, as one, they all looked at Izzy, who'd been sitting at the end of the table, sipping his coffee and allowing events to play out. Izzy allowed the silence to grow, and then set down his cup and looked at everyone. 

"He's good." Izzy finally said, and Ed deflated like a balloon being popped. The Crew leant in. "He's not lying. We can trust him."

"You're sure?" Jim asked, eyeing Ed with suspicion.

"I wouldn't have let him remain in the house with the kids if I wasn't sure." Izzy said, standing up and smoothing down his waistcoat. "Now," He gestured to the Crew, fixing his face. "Get to fucking work."

Like starting pistol, the Crew jumped and then rushed out of the kitchen, already arguing about who got the small tub first. Roach turned back to the stove, readying breakfast for both himself and the rest of the household. Ed stayed seated, looking at everyone with a small, sad smile. 

"Thanks, Iz." He said softly, and Izzy, walking past him to wash his cup in the sink.

"I just said what I needed to, to get them to fucking work." Izzy said, not looking at Ed. 

"Still matters." Ed whispered. Izzy took in a deep breath and turned around. 

"You're going to have to earn back all that trust again. Right back to the beginning. You're gonna have to work harder than ever before. And not just with the Crew. With the Bonnets as well."

"Oh fuck." Ed breathed. "The kids."

"Yeah." Izzy said slowly, and a small, mean smile spread across his face. "The kids."

...

"NOOOOOOOOO!" Alma screamed and jerked backwards, reaching behind her blindly and grabbing Sarah-Lee's arm. She turned and dragged her comatose companion back into the nursery, slamming the door shut. A second later, there was a dragging sound, as Alma did her best to heave the heavy wooden chest of drawers to barricade them in. 

Louis didn't really do much better. He simply looked at Ed and burst into loud sobs, holding up his arms until Doug, avoiding eye contact, scooped him up and left the drawing room, leaving Ed, Stede, Izzy and Mary to stand there in an increasingly uncomfortable silence. 

"You're fucking joking, Stede." Mary finally said, and Stede flinched minutely. 

"Mary, please." He said softly. Behind him, Ed seemed to be shrinking into his own suit jacket, and Izzy had left the room, following Jim up the stairs and trying to cajole Alma into unlocking the door. 

"You want...him," She gestured to Ed. "Back into the family?"

"Please, trust me, Mary. I promise, I wouldn't let him back into the house if I wasn't absolutely sure that he was safe." Stede pleaded 

Mary started at him, her eyes narrowed. Then she suddenly reached forward and grabbed Stede's necktie, dragging him through the house to her studio. When they got in, she shoved Stede in, shut and locked the door, and then boxed Stede up against the wood, hissing in his face. 

"If you, Stede Bonnet," She snarled, and Stede didn't dare to blink, "endanger my children, I will personally hang your balls above the front door like mistletoe."

"Yes." Stede squeaked, knowing that she meant every word. 

"You can't even predict what I'll do to you, if that....thing...harms a hair on my children's heads."

"I understand, Mary." Stede said, reaching up and gently enfolding Mary's hands in his own. He smiled at his wife, and she seemed to take some measure of reassurance "You know how much I love my children. You know that we've done everything to make sure that they're safe. Believe me, with Ed in the house, they're actually much safer than they were previously!"

"Tell that to Alma." Mary grumbled but sat down in front of her current canvas, finally relaxing. Without a word, Stede walked over to where Mary usually hid a bottle of wine. He retrieved it from under a drop sheet, collected 2 cleaned glasses from the sink, and then poured them a measure and handed a glass to Mary. She gave him a small, grim smile. 

"She hasn't stopped having nightmares since it happened."

"I know." Stede breathed out. He sat down opposite her and they grimly clinked glasses. The wine in the glasses was acidic, and strong, and really, not used for much beyond getting drunk incredibly quickly. Mary always kept a bottle around, ever since the beginning of their adulthood, due to both needing something to drink when she was painting, and also so she and Stede could drink themselves into oblivion whenever the memories got too much. 

When Alma was born, and they realised what was going to happen to her, despite Mary breastfeeding, they had cracked open a bottle, and woken up the next morning feeling like they'd both been run over by a carriage. But they had a tentative plan about how to prevent the Ceremony from happening. 

With Louis, they'd drunk 2 bottles. It had taken Doug most of the morning to heave them both up the stairs, into their bedrooms, and then, when their hangovers subsided a bit, he got to lecture them with a wide grin on his face.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the house around them. Finally, feeling the warm courage of the wine in his belly, Stede turned to his wife, his confidant, his best friend, and let everything out.

"I'm in love with Ed. I'm fucking thrilled he's back, and, even though he is what he is, I can't think of anything better than having him in my bed. I want to spend so much more...time with him, and I'm so happy whenever he smiles at me."

Mary nodded slowly. Then she grinned. "I know, Stede. The man looks at you like he wants to jump your bones All. The Time."

"He's got such yummy eyes." Stede sighed, sounding like a teenage girl, and Mary giggled. 

"They're like...deep pools of chocolate. You could drown in them." Mary whispered, and Stede nodded back. 

"He's so pretty. Even with the big beard, I want nothing more than to spend the morning kissing him."

"Mmmmm." Mary said. She loved Doug, adored being his secret wife, and felt like that, somehow, in all this mess, they'd managed to find happiness. And yet, she wasn't blind. Ed Teach was incredibly attractive, rectangular pupils and all, and the rest of the Crew were nothing to sniff at. Mary was absolutely sure that she was straight, and yet, being around Jim and Archie really made her question herself. 

Speaking of attractive members of the household...

"And Izzy? What's happening with him?" She asked, and then frowned as Stede stiffened and wouldn't meet her eyes. 

"What do you mean?" He said in a slightly strangled voice. 

"Oh, come on, Stede!" Mary exclaimed, waving her wine. "I know all about the evening reading! You both spend so much time together, and that man? Looks at you the same way he looks at Ed! He likes spending time with you, and this is Izzy Hands we're talking about. If he spends time with you voluntarily, he really does like you!"

Stede gaped at Mary, nearly spilling his wine. "No!" He exclaimed.

"Yes." Mary said slowly. They both stared at each other, neither willing to blink first. Finally, Stede's brain engaged and he swallowed. "You think so?" He whispered, and Mary nodded. 

"I don't see why you can't have both." She said blithely, and Stede's higher functions once again screeched to a halt. "They both give you different things. Together, you three might be fucking unstoppable." She then grinned at him. "You might want to commission a bigger bed, though."

Stede's ears flushed bright red, and he chose to focus on finishing his wine as Mary snickered opposite him, kicking her legs slightly in glee at making Stede blush. 

Stede heard the sound of squealing, and looked out of the window. He saw Izzy, Jim and Roach out in the back garden with Alma and Sarah-Lee. The girls were dressed in shirts and trousers with bare feet, and, although Sarah-Lee wasn't really moving, Izzy and Jim were gently putting the girls through basic sword moves. Izzy had taken off his waistcoat and necktie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, and all Stede could focus on were his forearms. Sweat glistened at the base of this throat, and Stede suddenly wanted nothing more than to lick him there. A slow blush was creeping up Stede's neck, and, without thinking, he crossed his legs. 

"God, men are idiots." Mary muttered into her glass, watching as Stede positively salivated over Izzy. 'Mind you,' she thought, as she watched as more of the Crew abandoned their duties to help teach the girls protective skills, which she had approved of a couple of days ago. 'I don't blame him for staring'.

That night, Stede stared at the ceiling as Ed snored happily by his side. He mulled over what Mary had said, chewing on his lips, and imagined, just for a second, Izzy in between them in the bed. 

The image felt so good that Stede jerked, looking at the back of Ed's head. He closed his eyes and summoned up his courage to say out-loud what he wanted, which, truthfully, was never a strong suit of his. He opened his eyes and looked at the ceiling, watching as the clouds made patterns from outside the curtains. 

"Izzy should...be here with us." He finally said. He thanked Someone that Ed was asleep, because even saying that out loud felt both horrific and incredibly right. Having said it, he snuggled down and closed his eyes. 

On the other side of the bed, Ed opened his. He could hear the change in Stede's breathing, and let a wide smile slowly stretch across his face as his eyes glowed dull purple. 

'Fucking finally.' He thought, and then rolled over, sneaking an arm around Stede's waist. He could feel his legs wanting to change, wanting to envelop Stede in even more limbs to get him closer, and he removed his arm for a second to slap them sharply. The sound was muffled over the covers, but he could feel his Other Self subside with a small, mental whine. 

He'd deal with this new issue with Izzy later. For the moment, sleep.

...

Izzy walked into his bedroom at the end of the day, so glad that it was Friday and it meant they would get a half day off tomorrow. He cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders, and was pleased that the weather was starting to turn colder so that he wasn't covered in sweat. 

When he saw Ed, sitting on his bed, he nearly walked right back out of the room. It had been 5 days since Ed had reappeared, and they hadn't spoken a word to each other since that night. In fact, Izzy remembered the last time this scenario had happened, and felt something like dread fill his stomach. 

"Don't go, Izzy." Ed said softly when he saw Izzy take a step back. 

"What're you doing here, Ed?" Izzy said from a stuck throat. His feet felt like they were frozen to the floor. Ed was sitting on the edge of his bed, looking at his hands. He was dressed in his uniform, but had taken off his jacket and, inexplicably, taken off the sleeves of his shirt. His tattoos rippled, and Izzy was temporarily entranced by the large tenches down his arm as it moved and seemed to wave at him. 

"We need to talk, Izzy."

"Do we, Ed?" Izzy said sarcastically, but he closed his bedroom door behind him. 

"Yeah. I know I've hurt you." Ed looked at Izzy, his pupils rectangular, and Izzy felt something shoot through him. Unease, yes. But Ed's eyes were still large and brown, and so, so familiar. "I fucked around. I didn't tell you. Especially with what happened with you. I knew that the longer I didn't tell you, the more it would hurt when you found out. And I don't know what to do so you can trust me again." He sniffled and looked down, looking so pathetic that Izzy wanted to go over. Instead, Izzy let out a deep breath and walked to his desk, taking off his jacket and necktie and laying them along the back of his chair. He sat down, taking off his glove and stroking the scar with soft fingers. 

"You really did fuck it, I'm not gonna lie." Izzy finally said, looking at his hands. "But this distance isn't...good for us." 

Ed raised his head and wiped his eyes, looking at Izzy with renewed hope in his eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Izzy finally raised his head and looked Ed in those unusual eyes. "I...miss you. I miss us."

"Us?" Ed said, and he and Izzy shared a grim smile. "Izzy, we haven't been us for a very fucking long time."

"I know. Believe me, I know how long it's been. I'm so fucking horny sometimes I could screw a bedpost." Izzy said, and Ed actually laughed out loud. "But it's been a long time since we've even really trusted each other."

"Izzy..." Ed whispered, but eventually sighed and sat back, shuffling up the bed and resting his back against the wall. "I know you trust me in the matters of planning. You know that I can plan an operation and I trust you to execute it. It's what we've done for years. But when was the last time we actually talked about us?"

"Never." Izzy said sharply, and then realised how sad that statement sounded. He was spending too much time with Bonnet if he was thinking about fucking feelings.

"Exactly. And now look at us." Ed waved to the both of them, and it took Izzy everything in his body to point out that a huge part of that distance had to do with Ed concealing the fact that he had a few extra limbs. "We don't talk, we don't even look at each other. We've never said anything about our relationship, and about the future. For fucks sake, I've never even told you that I fucking love you, and I think about you every day!"

Izzy felt like his heart had seized. He stared at Ed, and said nothing. 

Ed, seeing Izzy was frozen, given him a small smile. "We can't go back to what we were. Fuck knows I don't want to. But...maybe...we can try again?"

Izzy finally unfroze and then looked around his room, his hand and the scar. Anywhere but Ed. "It's been a fucking long time, Ed. And we've both been hurt. And I don't even know if you want to continue with the mission, what with-"

"I do." Ed interrupted, and the temperature in the room dropped several degrees. "You heard me the other night. I want to continue, to drive them all out. This world should be for people, even if I'm the only fucking monster still left. I want to fight."

Izzy met Ed's eyes, ignoring his unease, and tried to gauge Ed's true feelings. He'd never been particularly good at it. Even in the past, Ed had always been able to hold something of himself back, and Izzy would occasionally miss the mark. 

Maybe that was why their past was so muddled. Each was slightly off centre with the other. Neither properly gauging what their relationship needed, what the other needed. 

Openness, and trust. And truth. 

Seemed like they were doomed from the start. 

"Izzy, babe," Ed whispered, and Izzy felt tears start in his eyes. It had been so long since Ed had called him that. "We were going round in circles. And we were never truly happy."

"But now you are." Izzy said, snapping slightly. His voice was chocked, and if he had looked up at Ed's face, he would have seen it fall. "Bonnet makes you happy."

"He can make you happy too."

It was as if a bomb had gone off in the room. Izzy jerked his head up and once again stared at Ed, who gazed resolutely back. They both waited for the other man to crack, but Ed was much better at being patient. He saw the emotions run through Izzy's eyes, and wondered, in the back of his head, whether Izzy was going to be furious or whether the man might actually concede. 

"The fuck do you mean by that?" Izzy finally snarled, sounding like his windpipe was clogging. Ed looked around the room, at all the trinkets that Izzy had managed gather. Izzy was rather magpie-like when it came to his living space. Despite outwardly preaching a spare aesthetic to life, Izzy had a tendency to collect little artefacts and items to decorate him rooms. The longer he spent in one place, the more intricate his living space got. Walking into his room in London was like entering the legendary Cave of Wonders. Things glittered from the walls, brass and copper and polished leathers. Books, and knives, and little toys and everyday items that Izzy had snuck into his pockets. 

Izzy had sold everything when they had left London, but it already looked like he was subconsciously building his collection back. Ed took in a deep breath, and smelt Stede on many of the items in the room. Along the back of Izzy's desk, pen nibs, 3 small pockets clocks. A thimble, a spare knife from Jim, a curled up violin string from one of Alma's early music sessions. 

In Izzy's bedside table, a sewing kit and some of Izzy's makeup from Wee John (the only items from London that he hadn't sold. Izzy remembered that evening, learning to paint his face and become beautiful.) Chalk from Lucius, and a discarded paintbrush in luminescent teal from Mary, which Izzy had long admired in a painting of peacocks and would go back too to look at whenever he had a spare moment. 

In the wardrobe, along the shelf, items from each other member of the Crew. Little toys and carving he had made himself, and finally, on a specially made bookcase, things he had been given from the office. 

His own intricate clock, with sharks carved into the body. A bottle of ink in purple, that Izzy didn't plan on using but liked all the same. And the books Stede had handed to him, knowing he would read them. 

Gifts. 

Ed rubbed a hand on his dressing down, still draped over the end of Izzy's bed. It still smelt like him, but it was fading, and Ed made a mental note to wear it for a bit, make it smell strongly of him again. 

"Izzy, we both know that what you feel for Stede isn's simply loathing anymore." Ed finally said. Izzy opened his mouth to bark back, but found that he didn't have anything to say. 

"He's a fucking ponce."

"He's different. And you don't like different." Ed said, and Izzy held back a flinch. Seemed like Ed was going for brazenly honest, and Izzy was trying to find it in himself to match it. But Izzy was uncomfortable with true honesty, and he felt like he was sandpapering his soul. 

"But you like him. And the children. And even Mary. You like them because there's not really any artifice, and yet they're not delusional with the fucking reality of this world." Ed was smiling at Izzy, who felt trapped like a fly in amber. He couldn't move from that gaze, from those eyes. 

He'd never been able to.

"Somehow, we managed to get the one family in this entire fucking country who shares our beliefs. And you like that about them."

Izzy opened his mouth, closed it again, and then sighed. He ran a hand through his hair and then gave a small, somewhat hopeless laugh. "Of all the people in the world. We can actually talk about our Mission, and somehow that...he'd probably even agree with what we want to do!"

Ed nodded. "He would. Trust me, he hates the Old Gods as much as we do. And you know this. Isn't it time you figured out that being here was good for all of us?"

Izzy licked his lips. He looked around the room, finally seeing what Ed had seen. "I don't...have to hide anymore." He whispered, and Ed felt a thrill go through him. 'Honestly,' he thought, 'this had like been pulling teeth!' But they were getting there. 

"And now, neither do I. We can just be ourselves, no more concealing things. We don't have to worry about them freaking out, or banishing us, or...fuck, I don't know. Going to the Gods themselves to turn us in. We can be fucking honest about what we want!"

Izzy gave Ed a small smile at his enthusiasm, and huffed a small laugh. It was refreshing, being who he was and thinking what he thought, and not having to worry. 

Those evenings with Bonnet, especially the past week, had been so...fucking nice for his sense of reassurance. He could be as acerbic and honest in his hatred for the Old Gods as possible, and somehow, he was talking with the one person on this planet who might be as bitter as he was. Bonnet was a breath of fresh air compared to other nobles that he'd seen in the society papers, banging on about their devotion of the Old Gods, the numbers they'd sacrificed in their name for money, influence, statues. Bonnet clearly enjoyed having that kind of lifestyle, but, especially since the Ceremony, the sense of guilt he'd carried since the first day Izzy had met him had let Izzy sense a man who was fighting against what society deemed was right for their class.

Bonnet enjoyed his luxuries. But Izzy knew that he'd happily give everything up, if it meant that the Old Gods got no more helpless people sacrificed to them. 

Izzy sighed and then gave a reluctant nod. He knew what Ed was getting at, and, despite what he wanted to think, he agreed. It was better being here. 

No more hiding. No more worrying. Now, they could be as open and honest as they'd like, and that came with the reassurance that the people they were working for were just as fervent in their desire for a better world as the Crew were. 

"We have...acceptance here." Izzy said lowly, and Ed nodded and grinned. 

"And security. You know damn well that Stede isn't going to say anything to anyone about what we do."

"It would jeopardise his own safety, I know, I know." Izzy ran a hand through his hair, and Ed's eyes followed the strands as they flopped over his forehead. "He's just selfish enough not to tell." Izzy then huffed a laugh. "Kind of what I like about him. He's just enough of a bastard to be worth knowing."

Ed laughed and slapped his knee, and Izzy smiled at him. It was good to see Ed laugh with such abandon. It had been too long since any really joy had been in their lives. They'd been living on a knife edge, too scared to really reveal themselves, and too scared of rejection to do so. Ed was right. Being here was good for their relationship. 

And it was good for Ed. Izzy wasn't blind. Ed had been hiding himself, not just his real self, but also this jovial, funny, mischievous person who'd been slowly emerging over the past few months being here. This was an Ed Izzy had very rarely seen in London, someone who'd been too scared to properly show Izzy. Or maybe this was someone who needed the influence of a person like Stede to emerge. Ed had never really shown much interest in things like fashion, as far as Izzy had known him. But the dressing gown at the end of the bed was magenta, with decorative birds in it. Ed's hair was being held up by a bright purple ribbon. He was wearing his rings again, twisting them around his fingers as he stared at Izzy. Even his beard, wild as it was, was seemingly carefully groomed. 

This was an Ed who took care of himself, who showed that he liked bright colours and eye-watering patterns. An Ed Izzy had never seen, but one who'd emerged with Bonnet's careful influence. And Izzy couldn't even fault Bonnet for that, because Ed was so genuinely happy to be wandering around in his new robes, and decorating his hair, and just...

Living. 

Izzy looked at Ed, at his calm laughing eyes, and found that, even though Bonnet represented everything that Izzy loathed and fought against, he couldn't hate the man. Not when he made Ed so obviously happy. 

Not when he made Izzy happy as well. 

"And there is it." Ed whispered, and Izzy felt himself flush red. He didn't know if Ed was using his freak powers to read Izzy's mind (he wasn't), or if Izzy was really so easy to read for Ed (he was). 

"Oh, fuck off Ed." Izzy grumbled, and groaned as Ed snickered. 

"You liiiiike him." Ed cooed, and Izzy huffed, before a tiny, almost imperceptible smile graced his lips. 

"It's ok, Izzy. We all fall under the spell of Bonnet." Ed waved a hand. Izzy snapped his teeth at him, and Ed snapped back, his teeth turning for just a second, and Izzy realised, as he looked, that he didn't feel disgust. He was...cautiously intrigued. 

Ed saw him looking, smelt the change in the air, and realised that Izzy was mildly turned on. And not just from talking about Stede. He felt something in himself lift, and held out a hand. "C'mere, Iz." He whispered, and held out a hand. Izzy sat in his chair, frozen for just a second, before walking over to the bed. He toed off his boots and, face red but becoming more and more turned on, he shuffled forward on his knees until he was sitting astride Ed. He lowered himself, groaning under his breath when his crotch met Ed's erection. 

"Fuck, Iz." Ed breathed, and then gently gripped the back of Izzy's hair and drew their faces together. They kissed, gently at first, and then, as Izzy's eyes closed, he opened his mouth and allowed Ed's tongue to slip in. 

It felt like relief. Kissing again, after so long without. Both Izzy and Ed tried to get closer, moving, tongues tangling. Izzy wrapped his arms around Ed, playing with his hair like his fingers were touch starved, feeling something solid settle in his chest. It was good, being in Ed's arms again. He's missed this so much. 

Ed, in turn, held Izzy's head with one hand, and slipped his other hand down the front of Izzy's trousers. He moved the underwear aside, and felt the prickly edge of Izzy's pubic hair. He petted it softly, and Izzy drew his head back, spitting slightly.

"The beard makes things a little difficult." He said, and Ed gave him a wide grin. There was a moment, and then, as Izzy watched with wide eyes, his beard shortened. The hairs retreated back into his skin, until all that was left was the usual short scruff that Ed seemed to prefer. 

"The fuck." Izzy muttered. 

"I can make my pubes grow into different shapes!" Ed said brightly. "It's my party piece!"

"Jesus fuck." Izzy said, resting his head on Ed's shoulder and snickering helplessly. Ed stroked Izzy's back, almost overwhelmed with happiness. Izzy was back in his arms, and almost everything was right with the world. 

"This feels good, yeah?" Ed finally said, and kissed the side of Izzy's head. Izzy nodded, and then, as a thought entered his mind, bit his lip. 

"What about Bonnet?"

"Stede?"

"Yeah. Where does he fit in?" Izzy looked at Ed, watching as he thought. But Ed had been expecting his question, and smiled.

"I think he can fit in well with us. I like him, you like him, and he likes the both of us."

"Eddie..." Izzy whispered, and Ed's hand in his trousers moved downwards. Without a single word, 2 fingers entered his cunt and his thumb rested on Izzy's clit, and Izzy almost seized. 

"I don't see what we can have it all." Ed whispered into Izzy's ear, and his words hissed and echoed slightly. "We can have the 3 of us, all together, as we're meant to be. Would that be so wrong?"

Izzy should his head frantically, and Ed grinned. He nosed the side of Izzy's head, smelling the sweat gathering there, and crooked his fingers gently. Izzy positively spasmed, and Ed flicked his thumb against Izzy's clit. 

"Stede has such wonderful fingers, Izzy. He got such a delicate turn of wrist!" Ed said, and twisted his hand. Izzy actually yelped, and clutched Ed's shoulders, biting down on Ed's skin. Ed was doing everything he could not to laugh. Izzy had always been so responsive, so easy to make come. In their early relationship, they'd had enormous fun figuring out what would make him come the quickest, what would be enough to make him shout. 

But, as Izzy had said, it had been a long time. And so, as Ed tuned his wrist and flicked his thumb, Izzy's breath raced and he kneaded Ed's shoulder. 

"Eddie..." He groaned, and Ed grinned wider. 

"C'mon, Izzy, you can do it! It's only my fingers, you've done it before!" Ed said, and, with one particularly vicious twist and flick, Izzy started to groan into Ed's shoulder, his cunt spasming and trapping Ed's fingers like a vice. Ed's hand was soaked, and he sighed at the smell. 

It had been too long, for the both of them. 

It took a while, but, finally, Izzy relaxed enough to slump into Ed's arms. He raised his head lazily and kissed Ed, feeling, in that moment, that all was right in the world. 

"Could have done with that months ago." Izzy muttered, and Ed laughed. He drew out his hand and sucked his fingers, looking Izzy dead in the eyes. Izzy, despite doing everything he could not to, felt himself blush and clench. 

"Oh, Izzy babe." Ed said in a low, hissing voice. In one quick movement, he turned and laid Izzy down on the bed, kneeling over him and trapping him in his arms. His hair, those long, silvery locks that had entranced Izzy from the moment that they'd met, released themselves from his braid and curtained them both, trapping them in their own private room. Izzy looked up at Ed, helplessly entranced by his faintly glowing purple eyes. He lowered himself down to steal another kiss, and then raised himself to look at Izzy. 

"You think that that's it?" He said in a fairly mocking tone, and Izzy nodded helplessly. 

"Izzy, Izzy, Izzy." Ed said. He lowered himself on his arms until his nose brushed Izzy's, and then he reached up, kissing Izzy's little x by the corner of his eye. He felt a surge of fondness, remembering marking Izzy, carving himself into his skin the way he longed to do to his soul, and knowing that, in the end, he'd done so in the best way possible. "We've got the whole night together. I'm gonna do things to you that'll have you questioning reality."

"You think you're that good, Ed?" Izzy responded, finding a small brush of bravery within himself. Ed grinned, showing his shark-like teeth. 

"Izzy, my love. If you're not walking out of this room with a limp, I've clearly failed in my job. After all, I am the Half-Drowned, the God of the Bonnet family. And when I see such a delicious offering laid out before me, well," Ed shrugged an indolent shoulder, and, bracing himself, reached one hand down to undo Izzy's belt. 

"Who am I to refuse such a temptation?"

...

Stede stood at the top of the stairs, listening to the sounds coming from Izzy's room. Despite the fact that they were trying to be quiet, every moan, every sigh, every muffled scream was manipulated straight up to Stede. 

He was frozen, standing there. His feet were getting cold on the hard stone floors, and his fingers were clenched at his sides. 

And he had an erection so hard he could have hammered nails with it. 

As he heard Izzy let out a high, warbling wail, muffled by something, he thought back to his conversation with Mary. About the possibility of having them both, of being with Ed and Izzy at the same time. 

Was it possible to love both men equally?

Stede heard Ed sigh in satisfaction, so familiar to Stede now that he felt his heart clench. It clenched further when he heard Izzy whispering something to Ed, sounding tired and yet ecstatic. 

'Yes.' Stede thought, wanting nothing more than to be with the two of them in that moment. 

'Yes, it was possible to love 2 men at the same time.' And, in that moment, Stede knew he would do everything in his power to make sure that it happened.