They trust Blackbeard to be a murderous pirate--that's how they trust me.
[But not you, Stede. (Although if Stede's funny collection of wannabe pirates ever comes to trust Ed--even if they only trust him a little, because Stede does--he wouldn't mind that, really.)
Blackbeard always feels assured of his safety and the unlikeliness of his death. Ed... Well, it doesn't really matter what Ed feels.
The siren song of catchy lyrics--about heartache and pain and what love is--tugs at his attention. No one's ever quite loved Ed. They've admired Blackbeard, worshipped him as a god among pirates. But they've been brutally cruel to Ed. They've been fair-weather friends. No one's really loved him. So how would he know what love is when no one has shown him?
Would he even know if it he saw it?
Stede just says these things so easily. Of course. Of course he trusts Ed, as if Ed is a person to be trusted with fine things like Stede's friendship. He's not. Blackbeard is a man who would stab him in the back now, if it served his purposes.
He won't though.
Oh. Blame the song, the alcohol, the warmth of the man pressed against him, but-- Oh.
Love, in whatever form, is...trust, he decides. He trusts Stede, more than he ought to--knows that touch to his neck will do no harm. What a terrifying revelation of his own vulnerability.
He waffles with clear indecision, has a false start, and then releases Stede's hand to bring both arms around the gentleman pirate in what might--if he were not Blackbeard--be called a hug. After this brief indulgence--and with a cough to clear his throat--he pulls back, once again at a safe, danceable distance.]
no subject
[But not you, Stede. (Although if Stede's funny collection of wannabe pirates ever comes to trust Ed--even if they only trust him a little, because Stede does--he wouldn't mind that, really.)
Blackbeard always feels assured of his safety and the unlikeliness of his death. Ed... Well, it doesn't really matter what Ed feels.
The siren song of catchy lyrics--about heartache and pain and what love is--tugs at his attention. No one's ever quite loved Ed. They've admired Blackbeard, worshipped him as a god among pirates. But they've been brutally cruel to Ed. They've been fair-weather friends. No one's really loved him. So how would he know what love is when no one has shown him?
Would he even know if it he saw it?
Stede just says these things so easily. Of course. Of course he trusts Ed, as if Ed is a person to be trusted with fine things like Stede's friendship. He's not. Blackbeard is a man who would stab him in the back now, if it served his purposes.
He won't though.
Oh. Blame the song, the alcohol, the warmth of the man pressed against him, but-- Oh.
Love, in whatever form, is...trust, he decides. He trusts Stede, more than he ought to--knows that touch to his neck will do no harm. What a terrifying revelation of his own vulnerability.
He waffles with clear indecision, has a false start, and then releases Stede's hand to bring both arms around the gentleman pirate in what might--if he were not Blackbeard--be called a hug. After this brief indulgence--and with a cough to clear his throat--he pulls back, once again at a safe, danceable distance.]
[Gruffly] Let's just--
That didn't happen.