Thread by @DarkCaustic

If you ever find yourself on the streets of London, you may want to keep a lookout for a beggar. Of course, a city like London is no stranger to unhoused individuals doing their best to survive– but this man you’ll recognize immediately. #izzyhands #OFMDFic #Edizzy

He’s haggard and old, but in that deceptive kind of way - where you can’t tell if he’s 50 or 70. He has faded, black ink tattoos on his hand and face and neck, graying hair, and seems to always smell faintly of the sea.

He sleeps on the streets - rain, shine, sleet, snow.

Or walking the busy, touristy areas, with his grizzled palm out for any coins tossed his way. The cane he uses to get about might have been a pretty thing once, but now it’s scuffed beyond recognition.

If you talk to him, he’ll ask you to buy him a drink. Whatever is cheap and on tap in the closest pub. And in return - he’ll tell you a story. There’s something about him that might make you curious - he seems like the sort of man who can spin a good yarn.

His voice is rough but oddly charming. It’ll be tempting to take up his offer - buy him a beer and listen to him speak.

If you do take up the offer - he will deliver. You’ll find it a sound investment - a drink for a captivating tale.

He’ll tell you all about the heyday of pirates, back when they lived large on the seven seas in the age of sail. Giving everyone a run for their money, building their own intricate society. He’ll tell you how they weren’t as bloodthirsty as they seem.

How people who didn’t fit into mainstream society could find their footing on wooden decks and choose their own family.

He’ll tell you about the most famous one of all - the infamous Blackbeard and his feared ship - the Queen Anne’s Revenge.

The way he’ll paint Blackbeard in words will sound romantic, otherworldly, and captivating. You’ll find yourself a bit sad with the sudden understanding that you’ll never meet Blackbeard.

The way this beggar talks about him makes him sound complex, charming, human, beautiful and profound in a way you never thought of pirates before. It’ll be easy to understand why men felt honored to be among his crew.

If the beggar gets to the bottom of his glass - he’ll thank you for the drink and the company - not many people are willing to sit and listen to an old man ramble. He’ll make to stand up, and let you get back to whatever errands you were doing before you ran into him.

But if you offer to buy him another pint - he will keep talking.

He’ll tell you about Blackbeard’s first mate, and how they were bound together through the mutiny on their first ship. How they stuck together through thick and thin and how they built the reputation of Blackbeard.

You’ll come to understand that Blackbeard was an alias - an illusion to keep them all safe. Blackbeard could be cruel and scary, so ships would surrender, so no blood had to be shed, and the man who carried the name could be complex and charming and human– and safe.

All the Queen Anne’s men could be as safe as pirates could be–

As you listen, you might pick up on the things unsaid - how maybe this first mate loved his captain a little beyond the devotion of brothers in arms. How he followed Blackbeard no matter what. How he helped build the legend so no one would dare cross them.

Now that another drink is gone and the evening is starting to wane, you might realize you are in a pub with a stranger. A stranger who has told you pirate stories for the past hour. So maybe you’ll leave then. Maybe you’ll thank him for his time and wish him well.

You’ll put good thoughts into the universe for him- that he’ll find his way to a charity for the unhoused, or connect with social services some other way– get him off the streets.

But if his story captivates you, if you are still enjoying his worn voice, if you want to hear more, you can of course buy him another. The cheapest draft on tap. And he’ll be happy to talk some more.

But now the story doesn’t go the way you think it will - he’ll tell you how Blackbeard found love and, well, it’s a touching tale. A wild romance for the ages. The kind that makes you believe in love again yourself. Maybe you’ll even get a little bit misty-eyed.

The beggar will tell you all about the Gentleman Pirate and how he left everything behind to woo the infamous Blackbeard. The beggar will tell you it’s a story that history forgot.

Well, not so much forgot, but deliberately sank. Like so many old sailing ships. Brought down to Davy Jones’ Locker. Contemporaries and historians alike couldn’t stand the idea that infamous, fearsome, blood-thirsty Blackbeard wanted to love a man—

The beggar makes a good point. You are no stranger to homophobia, modern or historic. Of course it would be intentionally forgotten knowledge if Blackbeard chose the Gentleman Pirate over having a gal in every port. It would disrupt the idea that powerful men are always straight.

The way the beggar speaks of Blackbeard and the Gentleman's union as a testimony to love like you’ve never witnessed - it’s fairytale, unforgettable, timeless.

It's the sort of the love you dream about when you are young enough to think there will be a musical crescendo when you find your one—

The beggar might pause there. He’s got a few swallows left in his pint, and despite being his third drink, he seems no less sober than when you met just an hour or so ago—

He won’t meet your eye for a moment. His shoulders will slump, his nose will take the slightest rosy tint and you’ll realize something unbelievable—

He was the first mate.

He is the first mate.

Blackbeard’s First Mate.

And you’ll ask — (not that, not yet, it’s too crazy to ask an old English beggar if he was Blackbeard’s first mate three hundred years ago). No, you’ll ask:

The First Mate - he loved his captain? Didn’t he? He loved Blackbeard?

And that beggar will nod without looking up from his glass.

You’ll have more questions, of course, but now he’s finishing his beer and you’ll have to buy him another to find out what happens next—

Did the First Mate ever tell Blackbeard?

He’ll shake his head and start the new drink. He’ll explain - some things just never need to be said. Some things are understood. Love and loyalty - devotion like that is shown, not said. Blackbeard must’ve known. Blackbeard must’ve not felt the same way.

The First Mate was so different from the Gentleman Pirate - the First Mate must’ve just– not been his type.

You’ll disagree, of course, humans are not mind readers and years and years and years of uninterrupted loyalty is not the same as telling the man that you love him you love him you love him--

What happened in the end? is all you can ask.

And this— this is where the unbelievable story becomes most unbelievable. #izzyhands #ofmdfic #edizzy

The Gentleman Pirate and the Infamous Blackbeard decided to retire. They want to live out their life in peace without the fear of the navy killing them, without having to raid merchant vessels and fence stolen goods—

They have riches now, of course. They were both good pirates. They have a competent crew they can turn the ship over too—

All they need is an exit plan. New identities. A home to call their own.

So they sail to the Republic of Pirates and get advice on how to start over.

They are told to visit the woman who lives on the far side of the island in a house she built herself by hand.

The First Mate accompanies them— loyal guard dog till the very end. And the three of them find themselves in the witch’s house.

(You’ll want to believe the beggar, he sounds so sincere, but you’ll also wonder how sober he is, how mentally stable. But the story is good and you like the rasp of his voice so you’ll keep listening—)

The witch makes them a deal. Their faces will be forgotten. Their real names wiped away - of course people will know Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate but who they really were— all that will be gone. Lost to the sands of time. Washed away like waves on the shore.

It will cost them, of course— tangible gold. Rubies. A few crates of tea—

And intangible things as well.

They will each surrender all the memories of someone they loved — Forget the person wholly, inside and out.

A black chasm will be created where that person’s face once was in their memories. They’ll be left with just a lingering sense of loss and doubt. Left to carry a tender wound that never heals—

It’ll have to be someone they really loved, to be a fair deal.

Someone they thought they couldn’t live without—

The First Mate, you’ll say.

The beggar will nod.

For both of them? You’ll ask.

And he’ll nod again.

It was a creeping thing - his devotion to the Gentleman, but happened nevertheless. Because how could he not love the man who made his captain happy and whole? And the Gentleman loved him back, in a way he never spoke, because he never believed it would be reciprocated.

He loved the First Mate because he understood how the mate cared for Blackbeard all those years. The Gentleman might never have met his love had the First Mate not been so devoted through the years. Loyalty like that is easy to love.

What happened to them then? you’ll ask because you need to know how this story ends—

There was another hitch in the witch’s magic. The pair could live as long as their memory— their real memory— was carried on.

The last time someone said their true names, their time would come to an end.

And the person they love who’s memory would be forgotten— that person would live just as long as them. Forever forgotten. Forever left out of their lives. Left to wander the earth alone and unwanted.

You’ll have no choice then but to ask: What were their real names?

Then the beggar will smile and he’ll look— so much younger. So much lighter.

As he meets your eyes and says, “Edward Teach and Stede Bonnet.”

Edward Teach, you’ll repeat, feel the shape of the name in your mouth, feel how something about it just seems right—

And Steve Bonnet.

He’ll burst out a sputtering laugh, looking absolutely delighted before correcting you - Stede Bonnet.

You’ll say it right this time and he’ll nod with a melancholy twinkle in his eye.

And then you’ll ask— what’s the First Mate’s name?

He’ll be shocked at that— no one— no one ever asks that—

But after he collects himself with a swallow he’ll say, “Izzy Hands.”

You’ll say, nice to meet you Izzy.

And he’ll say likewise.

You’ll go your separate ways then. You’ll watch him limp out of the pub and down the road and be gone from sight—

Back to the streets of London with his withered hand outstretched - asking people to buy him a drink.

And you’ll know, somehow, despite how tall the tale was, that somewhere out in the world, Edward Teach and Stede Bonnet are living. They are sharing a love you can only imagine— 300 years strong.

Because out on the streets of London, Blackbeard’s loyal First Mate is telling their story, sharing their name, and keeping the memory of that love (and his love) alive.

On AO3: archiveofourown.org/works/45263449

#IzzyHands #OFMDfic #steddyhands #Edizzy

@threadreaderapp unroll

"There are three deaths. The first is when the body ceases to function. The second is when the body is consigned to the grave. The third is that moment, sometime in the future, when your name is spoken for the last time." - David Eagleman

I read the wikipedia article on the real Israel Hands. It's believed he died a beggar in London. I know OFMD version of Israel is probably nothing like the real man, but I couldn't stop thinking about angry, lonely, Izzy - with his injured foot - begging in London. #IzzyHands