Work Text:
"And does this fictional character ... have a name?" Lucius asked, wrinkling his nose.
Edward sniffed, his eyes fixed to the candle burning across from him. He shrugged, like it didn't matter, then said, "Ed," like it did. "But it's not spelt like mine," he rushed to add.
Lucius paused, his quill forming a black inkspot against the paper. "How is it spelt, then?" he asked.
Edward gave him a look both furious and baffled. "I don't know. You're the spelling guy."
"Right..." Lucius scribbled a few notes. "So ... if Ed with two D's noticed that the dinghy was empty, how do you think he might have reacted?"
With the most pathetic little forlorn expression on his face, Edward sighed. "Gone back to the barracks, maybe?" he ventured. "Checked to make sure Stede — er, but it's spelt differently, it's not the same Stede—"
Lucius wrote down 'Steed.'
"—was okay," Edward finished. "Because it's not like him, right? Like maybe he was ambushed on the way there."
"Ambushed?" Lucius said.
"Yeah, why not?" Edward said. "I mean, it's the Navy, right? The Navy's all kinds of dangerous."
Lucius blinked rapidly. "But ... who would have ambushed him?"
Edward's lips moved, but no sound came out. He gestured aimlessly, waiting for something to come into his head. Then his eyes widened. "Pirates," he said decisively.
"Pirates," Lucius repeated.
"Don't question me," said Edward with a bit of steel in his voice. "Just write this down."
"Alright, alright. So he's attacked by pirates, and then..."
Edward sniffed, but his tears seemed mostly dry by now (and thank God for that). He stared into the flame of the candle speculatively, one hand stroking his chin.
"Well, if Edd's gone back for him, then obviously he would help Steed fight the pirates," he said. "In fact, it's probably one of Blackbeard's — er, of Edd's old enemies, so it's only right he's there to help, right? And maybe Steed gets stabbed in the chest, and Edd cradles him in his arms, and he thinks Steed is dying, so they confess their love and forgive each other, and..."
...and Steed dies, Lucius wrote.
"...and then Edd kisses him and the power of his love brings Steed back to life," Edward said.
Lucius scratched out a few lines and nodded his head. "Right. Makes total sense."
Edward watched him write, the heartache and self-pity from just moments before totally dried-up now. When Lucius was done scribbling, Edward tapped the book. "We gonna read this to the crew?" he asked.
Lucus froze. He leaned forward, thinking perhaps he hadn't heard right. "I'm sorry?"
"Well, it's pretty good," Edward said. "Just objectively speaking. We spruce this up a bit, add in a few finishing touches — read it back to me?"
"Oh dear god," Lucius muttered.
"I like it," Frenchie said.
"I hate it," said Jim flatly.
"Well, it makes sense, don't it, because everyone knows a true love's kiss brings people back to life," Frenchie said, making an ambivalent gesture. "That's just biology."
"Edd and Steed should have killed the whole barracks," Jim said. "That would have been way more badass than rowing away together. How do they even know where they're going? They don't have a sextant."
"That's true, you do need a sextant," Frenchie said. "One thing I know is you're going anywhere on the ocean you want a sextant. Maybe also a map."
"I liked the voices, though," Fang called.
Lucius gave a gracious nod. In truth his throat was a little sore. Steed's voice was a bit too reedy for him.
"You all liked the pairing, though, right?" said Edward, watching his crew like a hawk.
"Oh, yes, loved the pairing," called Wee John.
"It was the most romantic story? That I ever heard?" said the Swede.
"A bit featherless for my taste," said Mr. Buttons somberly. "But no bad for a fic entirely without wings."
Lucius cocked his head, eyebrows furrowed as he mulled that over.
"I thought your voices were fantastic, babe," said Black Pete.
"Okay, enough about the voices," said Edward. "Let's focus on the pairing. Edd and Steed. Match made in heaven, right?"
There was a general hum of agreement from the crew —those who were still listening. Roach and Jim were busy seeing if Jim could throw a cleaver the same way they threw knives, and Oluwande had sidled up to Lucius' side, offering some gentle criticism on the purple prose. But from the back of the crew came a single, raspy voice that drowned out all the rest.
"I hated it."
Everyone went silent. Izzy Hands stood tall(?), his arms crossed, his feet planted at shoulder width. He met Edward's eyes defiantly.
"That's right. I thought it was shit," he said.
Edward and Lucius shared a disappointed look.
"Told you he'd hate it," Lucius muttered.
"What did you hate about it, Izzy?" Ed called. "Was it the voices?"
"It was the entire damn thing!" Izzy said. "First of all, pirates belong with other pirates, not with lily-livered noblemen who don't even know how to sail! Where's the blood and guts? Where's the violence? There wasn't a single murder in that so-called story!"
"The pirates who attacked Steed—" Ed started.
"For God's sake, man, you knocked them out with laughing gas!" Izzy spat on the deck so viciously that he overbalanced a little. "Where's the conquest? Where's the brutal displays of self-harm and humiliation to prove one's loyalty? Steed didn't even eat his own toes, how the hell does Edd know he's loyal?"
"Who do you think he should be with, then?" asked Oluwande mildly.
Izzy put his hands on his hips. For a moment, he didn't answer, his lips parted. Then, with careful dignity and a brief closing of the eyes, he said, "Ozzy Feet. Obviously."
From the crew, there was a general knowing groan of disgust.
"They're perfect for each other!" Izzy roared over the din as Edward turned away. "They could slaughter thousands in one day at each other's side! You lot have no fucking taste!"
"Oh, bollocks," Oluwande said beneath his breath. "We've got an anti."