#corry writes

When he became a pirate, that was his first instance of wanting. He felt powerful. He felt free. He felt selfish because he didn’t do it for others. He did it for him.

“Thou shalt not covet.” So he doesn’t keep the things he loots. He puts them back in the stores to be traded, gives them to Ed. He keeps nothing but the clothes on his back, the rapier at his side.

When they leave Hornigold’s ship, when Ed is captain, when they’re grown, Ed starts to give him things. The ring on his cravat, a hoop for his ear, an ‘x’ under his eye. Ed’s thumb runs rough over the tattoo. Izzy wants to be kissed, to kiss, to hold, wants that sharp pain always, as a reminder that he is wanted, but that he cannot want.

“Thou shalt not covet, Israel,” he remembers, “thou shalt not steal. Thou shalt have no other gods before me.”

He kneels before the altar of Edward Teach anyway. He does not want, but it’s a near thing.

Then there’s Stede Bonnet. Good thing there is no commandment saying thou shalt not hate. Because Izzy hates. And he finds himself wanting. Wanting to leave this forsaken ship. Wanting Edward’s attention returned to him. Wants Stede Bonnet dead.

In the third instance of Izzy Hands wanting, he tracks down Calico Jack, has him do the dirty work. He sells his soul to the English, barters Ed’s safety.

It almost goes to plan. He almost gets what he wanted.

Ed is gone, and then he’s back. Stede Bonnet is nowhere to be found but Edward is changed.

Izzy wants Blackbeard back. So he pushes. He yells, gnashes and grits his teeth, grips tight to forsaken books and makes Ed see. They are better than this. They want more than this.

With Ed’s hand around his throat, he wonders if Ed remembers giving him the ring that sits just under his skin.

He wants him to remember.

“Thou shalt not covet,” Izzy thinks as he limps across the deck, cane tight in his hand, balance offset by the loss of a toe.

He got what he wanted, and then some.

*

Everything is a whirlwind when Stede returns. The crew is reunited and Ed is pulled back from the dangerous ledge he’s toeing. The ledge Izzy pushed him to.

He spends moments outside the door to the captains’ quarters, listening to the hushed voices of the men inside, listens to Stede Bonnet do what he never could: put Ed back together.

Izzy pretends not to want as he walks away.

*

Months pass. Ed is comfortable again, pulling Izzy close to his side as before. They haven’t spoken about it, but by the way Bonnet looks at him, the one man who should hate Izzy more than anything, he can tell all is forgiven.

Eventually, it’s Stede who figures it all out, follows Izzy with his eyes, catch him looking both Ed’s way and his.

The night is quiet and balmy when Stede approaches him.

“Thank you,” he says carefully, placing a hand on Izzy’s shoulder. His skin alights.

“For what?”

“For keeping him alive.”

Izzy scoffs. “I didn’t. The man can be a pit of spite and rage. He kept himself alive.”

Stede laughs, “That’s a fair assessment. Could I share some wisdom with you, Israel? I feel I’ve come to know you a bit better through speaking with Ed.”

“Could never stop you before. Go ahead.” Izzy finds himself curious what this man could tell him about himself. Finds himself leaning into the hand on his shoulder.

Which is clearly the invitation needed for Stede to reach up to his face, draw his eyes. “It is not a sin, not out here, to want. Tell me, what do you want, Israel?”

“I want… I want…” and it all comes flowing forth. He wants Edward, he wants the praise, the recognition, the glory. He wants the man in any way he’d allow, wants Stede in a way he never thought possible. He wants this, right here in this moment, to not only be heard but listened to, held like something meaningful, to be seen.

Stede waits, listens, and smiles. He takes Izzy by the hand and says, “That is exactly what we hoped for.”

Izzy is led to the captains’ quarters.

It was one thing Corsica always said to her when she was teaching her how to shoot. “Feel it, Ant. From your fingers gripping the string, all the way to your elbow, in your shoulders. Feel it?”

When Antiope was younger she used to say, “No, CC, I don’t because you haven’t explained what it is.”

Corsica would get this smile on her face and quirk an eyebrow, “Well we’ll stand here until you do. Go ahead and let that one fly.”

Every time she said that, Antiope’s shot would always fly wide.

Feel it.

It was something Antiope started to tell herself when she realized the parenting style of her mother. She’s allowed to feel it. The anger, the sadness, all of it.

But she was never very good at channeling it.

Feel it.

Jawbone said it to her once, after the palimpsests and Kalvaxus. She had gone to talk to him about how angry she was.

“You can feel it, kiddo. It’s not bad to feel mad. Hell, it’s not bad to feel mad at him. Did I tell you I spent eight hours in that dragon’s mouth? Nasty halitosis, let me tell ya.”

Antiope laughed, “Eight hours?”

“Yeah girl! Kristen stopped time with Aguefort’s watch before I could get out. But that’s not the point. I want you to do something for me real quick. Close your eyes.”

Antiope did, a little confused.

“Alright now keep in mind this is the first time I’ve done this. But I talked to your sister about it because I don’t know much about ranger magic. Alright now, keep your eyes closed and I want you to picture an empty field. And this may seem wild, but picture Kalvaxus in it.”

Antiope did as she was told, a nice golden wheat field cropping up behind her eyes. In the middle, blades blowing around his massive legs, stood Kalvaxus.

She felt a huff of air leave his nostrils.

“Alright that’s good, Antiope. Now stand there, stare him down, and feel that energy coming off of him.”

Antiope focused, so hard she could almost smell it. No… until she could smell it. She smiled. Her favored enemy unlocked in her mind, and she felt the power of her hunter’s mark grow.

“Feel it?”

Antiope felt it.

She felt it in the Baronies, from across the square. Dragon. A brass wyrmling flew above the square, fire flowing from its mouth.

She didn’t have a chance to stop her muscles from moving. An arrow was nocked and streaking across the square before she could blink. The wyrmling fell from the sky…

And Danielle stood up in its place.

No. No no no no no.

She slung her bow back over her shoulder and ran. In the back of her mind, she felt it. The whatever that had been growing in there. She didn’t know what to call the underlying feeling yet, but she knew panic. She knew the panic of seeing Danielle, one of her best friends, with her arrow in her shoulder.

“Yelle!” Antiope screamed in a whisper, something that should be impossible, when she reached her.

Yelle held up a hand, “It’s cool, no harm. I just—”she flinched as she straightened her back, “I forgot. I’m alright.”

“Yelle, I just shot you!”

“Antiope, it’s fine. I’m fine. We’re alright.”

She reached out and placed a hand on Antiope’s shoulder, and the skin there prickled, overloaded with adrenaline and fear and… something else.

They sat around a fire. After a chase. Adrenaline waning. Antiope Druid crafts a flower. Danielle smiles.

Feel it?

“Presenting Empress Anima of the Eidolons!”

Antiope has seen Yelle in her dress already, saw her make it, but right now? Descending these stairs? She has never seen anything more beautiful. The gossamer webs of the silk flow seamlessly around her, and there’s a moment where Yelle stops, and something in her face changes. She stands up just that little bit straighter and she restarts her descent.

The crowd is quiet. The Seven are quiet. Yelle looks right at Antiope. Antiope smiles at her and mouths, “Feel it.”

In his mind, Stede stands before the firing squad. Izzy is still speaking concentrated poison into his ear. He can’t keep his eye on everything at once. The guns fire. He awakes, screaming, “ACT OF GRACE!”

The room is empty. Stede didn’t die that day, but he’s still gone. “Act of grace,” he cries, pulling his knees up to his chest, calling out to no one.

Yelle is on top of the world. They’re on the Rombosa, which for all intents and purposes is theirs, Tectonya Karkovnya is still alive, and there’s enough booze on this airship to get her cross faded seven ways to Sunday. She’s already halfway there, blissful and unaware, the pressure and adrenaline from combat draining from her inch by inch.

She grabs a flute of champagne and whirls around, still feeling like the center of attention and looks for the one person who made her entrance that much more worth it. But Antiope, in her own body or that of a dragon, is nowhere to be seen. Neither is Sam, for that matter, and both Ostentatia and Katja are making phone calls, Zelda and Penny at their sides. Yelle is about to move towards them when she registers the sounds coming from her friendship bracelet.

Draconic. High pitched and keening. She can hear the other maidens laughing and then hears Antiope call out a seemingly sincere, “Watch!”

Yelle turns her wrist. She sees Antiope. She sees Michel Parnassus. She turns her wrist away. Bile rises in her throat, much like it did when Antiope spoke about Preston (thank the spirits that ship has sailed) and she wants to throw up.

For the first time since Penny made them, Yelle loosens the ties of the bracelet and pockets it in her dress, the disconnect from that piece of mirror and her wrist cutting off the sounds. She downs her glass of champagne and plucks a mushroom from her shoulder. This time, there’s no bliss.

*

Danielle wakes up pasted to the floor of the dais, the rest of the maidens milling around her. She groans, placing a hand on her head and slowly moves to sit up, instantly regretting the decision.

“Welcome back,” she hears Antiope say, her voice dry, “You might want some water first.”

“…time s’it?” Yelle asks, palm reaching out in hopes of a glass. One appears, a ringed hand tapping hers.

“About eight a.m. Drink that carefully. We need to talk.”

It’s still Antiope talking, and Danielle thinks she knows why. She doesn’t remember much, but there’s bits and pieces.

But she definitely remembers the sounds Antiope was making through the filter of her bracelet.

Yelle keeps her eyes closed as she sips the water, the fuzziness retreating from her head slightly, the pain receding in slow waves. When she opens her eyes, her vision isn’t swimming, and those bright sneakered feet stand in front of her.

“You ready to have a conversation?” Antiope asks, squatting to get into her field of vision. Her face is hard, her eyes searching Danielle’s face. Yelle doesn’t fully make eye contact, looking down to pick at her shorts. Huh, when did those come on?

“Danielle.”

Yelle nods and places her hands on the floor, pushing herself to kneeling and then to standing. She doesn’t look at Antiope. She doesn’t want to see what she looks like, the Midnight Huntress after her prey. She watches in her periphery as Antiope starts walking to one of the balconies, one cleared of all people. None of the other maidens follow. So it’s not a full intervention. This is a disappointed leader. Wonderful.

“You want to tell me why you were so out of your mind last night?” Antiope asks, leaning forward, hands braced against the railing and her shoulders hunched. Yelle places her back against it, curving in on herself.

She musters up her fake voice, throws up a loose peace sign and says, “Life of the party, L-Cab. Just keeping the vibes.”

“No, absolutely not. We’re not doing this. No ‘peace, love and light’ bullshit, Yelle. What was that? I’ve seen you tossed but not like that. Never like that.”

Yelle casts her eyes to the side, taking in the tension in Antiope’s shoulders. She’s worried. She’s angry. The truth sits behind Danielle’s lips but she forces herself to swallow it, crossing her arms over her chest. She shakes her head.

“Danielle. Look at me.”

There’s something soft in Antiope’s voice as she says it, and she sidles a bit closer, opening her stance. Danielle can feel the words crawling their way back up her throat, trails of fire in their wake.

She turns her head a little. The end of one of Antiope’s braids is frayed and Yelle nearly laughs to herself. What would Athena Jones say?

Danielle shakes her head again and says, “I can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

Yelle exhales and lets the words fall out, “I can’t look at you, Antiope. I don’t want to see...”

“See what? Me?”

And Antiope’s obliviousness just makes it worse. She’s so perceptive, but she can’t see what is right in front of her. So for the first time in her life, Yelle lets the bite speak for her.

“I don’t want to see what you look like after having been fucked by him, Antiope. Okay? I didn’t want to look last night, and I don’t want to look now. Happy?”

Wind whips up behind her, blowing her hair around her shoulders, and she hears Antiope’s breath catch. The leader turns, perpendicular to the railing now, and from her downcast eyes, Yelle can see one of her fists clench. Antiope’s arm betrays her as it wavers forward, reaching for Danielle.

Yelle instinctively moves away.

“Yelle, he didn’t hurt me.”

Danielle releases her stubbornness and whips her head around, “Don’t play dumb, Antiope Jones. It’s not a good look.”

“Excuse me?” Antiope snaps back, defensive.

Yelle looks at her, seeing everything she didn’t want to. One of Antiope’s braid had come completely undone. There were dark bruises on her neck and shoulders and she just looks different. She doesn’t look like her Antiope.

Her Antiope. Her Antiope fucked someone else last night. And Danielle doesn’t even have the right to be mad. She can’t stake a claim on someone without having confessed.

The words are nearly choking her. She takes a deep breath and squeezes her eyes shut.

“I’m going to say something and you have to promise you won’t think any differently about me. And I know I’m well on my way to the gutter with what I’ve already said.”

“Yelle, I never said I was angry or upset. You’re the one that snapped.”

“Don’t do that. You know how your voice changes when you’re upset and disappointed. But can you please make me that promise?”

Antiope pauses for a moment and inches closer, “I promise, Yelle.”

Danielle squeezes her eyes just a bit tighter, but forces herself to peel them open and look at Antiope as she speaks.

“I’m in love with you, Antiope. Have been for a while now. And last night… when you told us to watch you with him, Ant I— something in me snapped. And I know I have no right to be that upset but… it ate me alive.”

Antiope’s brown eyes soften and she takes that last step, fully inserting herself in Yelle’s personal space.

The damn has broken and Yelle can’t stop the words now. She looks down to see Antiope’s fingers twitch as she keeps speaking, “You make me feel so special, Ant, and last night for my entrance, the only eyes that mattered were yours. And yes, the rest of the party mattered too, but yours? Gods, they’ve always meant the most. And I’m so proud of you for facing that anger and fear, you have no idea, and—“

“Yelle,” Antiope starts, overwhelmed by Danielle’s babbling, “Yelle!”

Those twitching ranger’s hands move, one of them grasping Danielle’s, the other coming up to cup her face. The contact makes Yelle stop dead, words crashing into a pileup.

“I never thought you’d say anything.”

Danielle’s brain runs a marathon to catch up, and when it does, she can see the sincerity in Antiope’s eyes, can hear it in her voice. A rough thumb strokes lightly over Yelle’s cheekbone, and she practically melts. Her nerves hum and she wants to lean in, but she knows there’s more to be said, more to be done.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have gotten so far last night. And I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Antiope says, thumb still stroking, “If it were you, I… well, let’s leave that to the imagination.”

Yelle nods, knowing what that hunter’s mark and sharpshooter ability feels like. She blinks and leans into the hand on her cheek, “And as much as I really want to kiss you, Jones, I think we have a lot to talk through. Not just between us. I think I also need therapy.”

Antiope laughs, head leaning forward, forehead connecting to Yelle’s, “We all need therapy, Yelle. What else is new?”

They stay there for a moment, a light breeze ghosting over them. Yelle sways slightly, bottom lip brushing Antiope’s against her will.

The fearless leader laughs, “Maybe just a little one? It won’t hurt.”

Danielle nods, and Antiope closes that last little inch. Their lips press together, and there’s no heat behind it, just sweetness. A greeting. One that says I’ve been waiting on you for so long.

When they pull back, Yelle keeps her eyes closed, not wanting to break the moment. Antiope’s nose brushes hers before pulling away, only for her lips to press a kiss to Yelle’s forehead and stay there.

“I’m holding you to therapy this time,” Antiope says and Danielle just groans. She wraps her arms around Antiope’s waist and tucks herself under her chin.

It takes a moment, but if therapy is the price she has to pay for more of this? She’s more than willing to hand over that fee.

“Took you two long enough!” Ostentatia yells, a ring connecting with Danielle’s temple as the words hit her ear. “Make sure you bring that back, you bitch!”

“Not a second of peace with these Wallaces,” Antiope says, laughing.

“What are you saying about me?” Ostentatia calls back.

“Nothing! I love you.”

“I love you!”

Yelle and Antiope rejoin the rest of the maidens surrounded by a chorus of ‘I love you’s, finally dying down after about the fiftieth one.

Ostentatia looks between the two of them, down at their clasped hands, and then back up.

“You know how this works, angel,” Stede counters, knowing he’s playing dirty with the endearment. “What would you like? You’re never this quick to get out of here.”

“I just… my tie, sir.”

Stede pulls the hand still in his grasp up to his mouth, kissing the knuckles. “You don’t have to run away just because you want. You know that, yes?”

After everything is over, the Jester no longer controlling bloppelganer’s around the Rombosa, and Tectonya outright demanding the festivities continue, Yelle’s eyes find Antiope’s. Eyes that are slowly slipping closed on a wavering body. With the vestiges of fly, Danielle crosses the dance floor, catching Antiope’s before she hits the ground.

“Shit, Ostentatia!” she yells, motioning to their cleric, “Hang on, L-Cab. You’re not dying on me.” Me, not us. You’re not dying on me.

Antiope coughs under her, grabbing her hands and placing them on either side of her wound, “Wouldn’t dream of it, bloom. Push hard.”

Danielle does as she’s told, holding Antiope together as Ostentatia comes over to them. Their cleric kneels over their leader, holding her hands out and chanting under her breath. Antiope grunts and holds tight to Yelle’s hand.

Everything in Danielle’s mind screams for her to lose her composure and hold Antiope closer. She called me bloom.

As Antiope’s nails break her skin and the wound sutures itself closed under Ostentatia’s hands, Yelle’s leans forward and presses her forehead to Antiope’s, “You’re alright, huntress. You’ve had worse.”

Antiope laughs lightly, and Ostentatia looks up at them. Her palms glow brighter for just a moment, and the sound of a hammer hitting an anvil rings out. Antiope sighs in relief, her eyes refocusing.

“Holy shit,” she gasps, loosening her grip on Yelle but not pulling away, “Ow.”

“Ow?” Yelle parrots, pulling back from Antiope slightly, “That’s all you have to say for yourself?”

“Oh, hush,” Antiope says, sitting up, still not letting go of Yelle’s hand, “It’s not my fault my boss turned out to be evil and stabbed me in the back. By the way, I’m pretty sure that’s out the window. I’m in.”

Ostentatia, who has been looking furtively between the two of them, locks eyes with Antiope, her lip quivering.

“Oh, okay, we’re doing this again?” Antiope reluctantly let’s go of Yelle’s hand and catches Ostentatia as she sobs. Danielle leans back slightly, but keeps a hand on Antiope’s knee.

“I love you!” Ostentatia sobs, “I thought you were gonna die.”

“Okay. We’re okay.” Antiope says it over Ostentatia’s shoulder, connecting directly with Yelle’s watery eyes. Yelle nods back.

Using her newfound telepathy, she links with Antiope, “Are you ready, huntress?”

Antiope blinks for a second, realizing Yelle is inside her head, but then she smiles, “Whenever you are, bloom.”

Yelle remembers the last time they had this conversation, about when to tell them.

“It’s going to have to be soon,” Antiope had said, tracing nonsense circles into Yelle’s back as they laid in the soft grass under Holly, “They’re not dumb.”

Danielle had agreed. But then Arthur Aguefort came along and tried to split them up and then the GED quest… It slipped their minds.

“What did you guys do to Ostentatia?” Sam asks, walking over, “Whoa, is she crying?”

Ostentatia lifts herself out of Antiope’s arms and wipes her eyes, “No, shut up.”

Sam snickers for a moment and covers if with a cough. Antiope tries to hide a smile as well, looking at Ostentatia with an eyebrow raised.

Ostentatia shakes her head a bit before saying, “Okay fine, yes, I was crying, but we’re not talking about me. You two wanna uh… share something with the class?”

Antiope clears her throat and simply reaches over to take Yelle’s hand. Yelle weaves her fingers through Antiope’s and just looks down at them.

Sam cocks her head and just goes, “Oh yeah, that makes sense.”

Katja, from up on the dais still, calls out, “Get it!”

Antiope throws her head back and laughs, and Danielle can feel something in her uncoil at her friends knowing.

Zelda walks over as well, rearranging her hair to lay over her eye again, “I saw Penny wander off with Lysander, so you’ll have to tell her, but,” she laughs awkwardly and rubs her neck, “I’m happy for you guys.”

Yelle looks at Antiope, catches her in profile. She’s there, passed near death, and Danielle has never felt more herself, has never felt more in love.

“I have an idea,” she says, pulling herself and Antiope up to standing, “You cool with fly, huntress?”

Antiope shakes her head in confusion for second and looks around, “Hang on, shouldn’t we like, regroup?”

Sam shakes her head and waves a hand, “No, you guys go do your gross couple stuff, I’m gonna go make out with a billionaire.” She turns to leave, her hair rippling behind her.

“There are no hot billionaires!” Yelle calls after her.

“That’s what you think!”

“Actually that’s not a bad idea,” Ostentatia says, jerking her thumb after Sam before turning.

Zelda stands there for a second, looking after the other two. “I’m not going to make out with a billionaire, I’m gonna go call my boyfriend.”

And the two of them are left by themselves.

“So. Fly?” Antiope asks, cocking an eyebrow.

“Yeah. You’re cool with it?”

“With you? Always.”

Yelle smiles and moves her hands to hold Antiope’s waist and bears the two of them aloft. Wind whips around them as they soar above the deck of the Rombosa. The music from the band barely reaches them up here, but the melody is soft as Yelle looks at Antiope.

“Dance with me, huntress?”

Antiope laughs, her eyes going ever so soft, “Of course, bloom.”

Tonight, I’m gonna dance for all that we’ve been through, but I don’t wanna dance, unless I’m dancing with you.

They hold each other close and sway in the air, Antiope’s arms coming to settle on Yelle’s shoulders.

“What’s this about, then?” Antiope asks, leaning her forehead down against Yelle’s.

Yelle smiles, shaking her head, “Nothing in particular. I’m just grateful for you.”

“Ugh, gross,” Antiope says sarcastically, leaning forward to press a soft kiss to Danielle’s lips.

Danielle, feeling bold, carefully sweeps her foot through Antiope’s, dipping her in mid air.

“Show off,” Antiope laughs.

“Israel,” Bonnet almost whispers, leaning down to get a hand in his hair. The boot leaves as he is levered off the floor, held only by the strands in Stede’s fist. “Do you find comfort in defiance? Do you find solace in what it brings to you?”