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The first thing Izzy does as soon as he steps off the floating circus known as the Revenge is head straight for the pub. Most of the crew had already dispersed in the direction of town, leaving Izzy and a few more responsible members to sort out the ship before they took leave.
Not that Izzy really cares. Two smart men are worth more than a dozen idiots, and between him, Ivan and Fang, they could get the whole ship ready for docking without help.
But when everything is in order, he gives them leave and takes off as well. He doesn't really want to spend more time than necessary on that goddamned ship and he especially doesn't want to miss out on a chance to get so pissed that he forgets who the ship belongs to. Izzy immediately heads for the scummy part of town, having been docked here before a few years ago, hoping that Bonnet's crew will see fit to avoid the less reputable areas and leave Izzy the hell alone for once.
He finds a tavern quickly, grimy and filthy and every ounce of something Bonnet wouldn't touch with a ten foot pole. It's perfect.
His small relief at finding a place of solitude is immediately dashed as he walks into the place. The tavern is packed, sailors and pirates alike getting sloshed as doxies flit about, hoping to get an easy john that'll pass out soon as they're taken upstairs but Izzy's eyes immediately catch the small group near the back of the tavern, seated at a long table next to the bar. It's a bunch of roughnecks and pirates, going by the tattoos he can see, all crowding around the table and joking between themselves. All their attention seems to be pinned on a man in the middle.
It's fucking Lucius, his shoulders rounded and his eyes glued to the table in front of him. On either side of him, a man sits. To his left, there is a large, burly man with long yellow hair pulled into a tight ponytail. On his right, there's a thinner man with a wide smile and brown hair, and he's got an arm looped around Lucius' shaking shoulders.
There are no weapons drawn and no snarling faces but it doesn't take a genius to know that Lucius is being forced to sit there. Izzy sighs angrily and a man who's seated next to the entrance glances up at him. His face pales quickly and he darts for the door, leaving his scabbard behind in his haste. The action doesn't offend Izzy, God no, in fact, it rejuvenates him. Even here, the infamy of Blackbeard and his right hand, Izzy, are still well-known.
Maybe he could use it to his advantage. He eyes the group of men, counting. About a dozen in the group at the table and maybe more standing guard around the pub.
He could get the boy out of the situation he's landed himself in. He does take a second to marvel at the fact that Lucius' been off the ship maybe, what, an hour? Two?
And he's already gotten himself into trouble. For a man who did a whole lot of fucking nothing most of the time, he sure knew how to find trouble.
Or maybe, trouble knows how to find him.
A small part of Izzy– okay, a really big part– thinks he should just turn around and walk out. The boy's business is none of his and it seems no one in the tavern, excluding the man who fled, has taken notice of him yet. But then the brown-haired man at Lucius' side leans over and plants a wet kiss on the boy's neck and the group howls with laughter. And Lucius, who always has something sarcastic and smart to say, who would look him in the eyes and tell him to fuck off, he just accepts it with a look of fearful resignation.
Jesus Christ.
Izzy can't leave him there.
So he straightens his shoulders, puts a hand on his sword and steps into the lantern light. It's the barmaid who sees him first as he pretends to survey the crowd. The poor girl drops the mug she had been cleaning with a startled gasp and the whole tavern goes quiet. Dozens of men stare at him, apprehensive and a little fearful, and Izzy basks in the moment. Izzy will take being feared over being loved any day. It's intoxicating.
He turns and walks to the barmaid, his face passive as he softly places his coin on the bar. He doesn't need to slam things or shout here, not while the pub is as quiet as a dead mouse. Even the soft shift of his clothes echo through the room. The barmaid doesn't ask what he wants, just pulls out the nearest flask and dumps the whole thing in. She passes it to him with a forced smile and he drinks from it.
Rum. The good, expensive kind, the kind of shit that makes your eyes water and your lungs burn just from smelling it. He eyes the coin on the bar-top, knowing for a fucking fact it's not enough to cover even an ounce of this drink but the barmaid stutters out a thank you and snatches it up.
Izzy turns, resting his weight against the bar as he drinks from his mug, his eyes sliding over the pub, inspecting it for any quick exits he might need. A few men jump from their seats and make excuses on why they suddenly have to leave. A working woman grabs the arm of her suitor and yanks him for the backdoor. Finally, his eyes rest on the group at the back, the one surrounding Lucius. The men are looking back at him, a few prideful and the others nervous.
But it's Lucius that he truly wants to lock eyes with. And he does.
Lucius is staring holes right at him, a mix of hope and irritation on his face. He imagines the boy snapping at him from across the room, 'Save me already, you fucking prick!' Ungrateful little fucker. Expecting rescue without even so much as a please and thank you. He's lucky the crew likes him so much or else Izzy might have just let this go on. He'll make sure to let Lucius know that after he's gotten away from those cunts.
He leaves the tankard on the bar-top, standing up and making his way slowly to the table. The noise of the pub restarts again; however, it's lower in volume and Izzy can still feel cautious eyes on his back. He strolls up the group like he belongs there and instantly, three men jump up and make for the back door.
Smart.
Izzy makes sure to remember their faces so if they ever cross paths again, he can gut them. There's no room on the nearest bench and Izzy does his best work when he's close with his victim so he stalks around the table and sits himself right next to the blond-haired man. The man sitting across from him, a stout man with a mop of red hair, makes a face like he's just swallowed an entire lemon. Izzy thinks that maybe it's an attempt to appear threatening.
Izzy blinks.
The man startles, his hand slapping onto the table. "Alright, boss, gotta be goin' now, been real fun!"
And then he's gone and Izzy is able to have a clear sightline on the front door.
Perfect.
The man next to him grumbles for a moment, turning toward him. "Izzy Hands."
He says it like a curse, rather than a question but Izzy nods all the same.
"Ship name?" Izzy asks, getting straight to the point. It'd be unfortunate if it was one of Calico or Jackie's vessels, seeing as he didn't plan to let this man go unscathed.
Edward would probably make him apologize like some kind of foppish landlubber. But he's sure, after a stupid apology, Ed would clap him on his back and tell him he did a good job. Maybe even tell him he went too soft, that he shouldn't be left alive.
"Neptune's Rift," the man answers. "I'm her Captain, Declan Garrett."
He sticks out his hand to shake and Izzy notices a few jeweled bands on his fingers. The ruby sitting on his pointer seems a bit too large while the emerald on his ring finger is too tight, the skin around it reddened. Instead of shaking his hand, Izzy reaches into his inner vest pocket and pulls out a cigar. He grabs the table candle and lights it with that, all the while avoiding Garrett's hand. Garrett says nothing at the slight but his eyes narrow. Izzy examines him out of the corner of his eye, noting the fresh ink, a fist-sized nautical star, on his neck. Must be a new captain, looking to make a name for himself, judging by how he seemed unfazed by Izzy.
"Name's Kennings, Jakob Kennings," the brown-haired man says from next to Lucius, who's regained some of his colour. Izzy doesn't like how close the man leans to Lucius' face. "First Mate to Cap'n Garrett. Nice to meet you, Mister Hands."
Izzy puffs on the cigar. "And this, these men, they're your crew?"
"They are," Garrett says coolly. "Not all of them, of course, the rest are still on the ship but me and my boys, we've come to find a bit of… comfort."
"Doxie won't do ya?" Izzy asks, taking the cigar from his lips and ashing it onto the table. He blows on the cherry, watching it burn red-hot.
"Why buy a girl when you can find a boy for free?" Kennings says and the remaining group around them chuckles, their eyes still watching Izzy warily.
"I forget my manners," Garrett says. "We picked up this fine piece a little bit ago. His name's–"
"Lucius," Izzy finishes for him.
"You know him?" Kennings asks and Izzy leans onto the table, one elbow propped up while he twirls his cigar between his fingers.
"I do," Izzy spits, finally raising his voice from a murmur. "Because that's my fucking boy you've got your arm around."
Instantly, Kennings lets go of Lucius like he's been scalded. The sudden movement almost makes Lucius fall back from his seat on the bench.
It's something Izzy had wanted to avoid, claiming responsibility over the boy– and he just knows that's going to come back around and bite him in the ass– but nothing strikes fear into the hearts of level-headed pirates like the idea of messing with one of Izzy's boys.
And by extension, one of Blackbeard's.
Kennings' hands fly up to hang in the air, like Izzy's got a dagger pointed to his throat. "M-Mister– First Mate Hands, I-I am so s–"
"Go now," Izzy says, flicking the ash off his cigar. "And I won't cut your goddamned hands off."
Kennings looks at Garrett, pleadingly, who thinks for a second and nods. And when he stands, so do two other men and they follow Kennings out the front door. Five men remain, out of the dozen that had been here just a few minutes ago. It doesn't seem like any of the other tables are in a rush to jump up and help, so these five might be all that's left of Garrett's crew. He can work with that. He's faced worse odds and lived.
Lucius clears his throat, placing his hands on the table to push himself to a standing position. "Well, me and First Mate Hands must be go–"
He lets out a yelp as he is immediately grabbed by the arm and yanked back down to sit next to Garrett. The man doesn't break eye contact with Izzy as he forces the boy under his arm. It makes Izzy's blood fucking boil. And Garrett knows it, from the way he grins.
"Your boy was skimming pockets in the marketplace. Lucky I turned up, or else the authorities woulda snatched him."
Lucius' head snaps up and he opens his mouth, no doubt to rebut Garrett's words but then the man's fingers dig hard into his shoulder and his mouth shuts with a loud 'clink'.
Izzy shrugs. "And that gives you a right to lay your hand on what's not yours?"
"It gives me a right to reclaim a favour owed. He escapes the gallows and I escape pouring out my pocket for a girl."
Lucius clenches his jaw next to him, glaring down at the table as his lips scrunch up. He can only imagine what kind of snarky things the boy wants to say. Izzy almost wishes that Lucius weren't so afraid, that he would just light off like he usually would, when he was back on the ship.
Because whatever Lucius' got to say about Garrett is probably really fucking funny.
He's about to show Garrett that he is so very thankful for his help by shoving a dagger right between his eyes when the door to the tavern swings open again. He glances, just for a moment, and the corners of his mouth tick up into a smirk. Ivan steps into the room, Fang close behind him as he turns back to address the group following them. Black Pete laughs at whatever Fang had just said, flanked by Oluwande and Jim. Bringing up the rear, looking gigantic as ever next to stick-thin Roach, Wee John ducks the threshold, glancing around the pub. For the first and only time in his entire life, he is glad to watch Bonnet's crew entering the room. Ivan notices him first, his eyebrows darting up.
There's a clatter at the table as Lucius notices his boyfriend at the doorway. He tries to shake off Garrett's arm, his mouth opening, no doubt to call out, but Garrett grips him tight enough to leave bruises. Ivan points over to them and the group turns their attention to the table. Izzy raises his hand and beckons them over with a curl of the fingers. There's grins on their faces as the group makes their way towards the table but those smiles quickly drop as they catch sight of Lucius practically pinned against this unknown man.
It's Fang who steps forward, glancing at Lucius with a concerned look. "Hey, boss. There a problem?"
Out of the corner of his eye, Izzy sees Jim unsheath a blade, turning it so the blade is pressed against the inside of their arm.
Izzy puffs on his cigar, wiping his hand across the table and brushing the ash he left onto the ground. He motions for Fang, and the rest of them, to take a seat.
Fang sits, his hands clasped on the table. Jim and Ivan take the open spots to his left. The others crowd around the table, all cheerfulness gone from their faces.
Izzy ashes onto the floor and blows the smoke away from Fang's face. "No, no problem. Just talking with…"
Izzy motions to the captain beside him with an apathetic wave.
"...Garrett," the man finishes warily, his eyes jumping between each new addition to the table.
Oluwande slides over to Jim, placing his hands on their shoulders and it seems that simple touch is all that stops them from lunging across the table.
Fang keeps his hands clasped on the table top as he glares down Garrett and Roach steps forward, placing one hand on Fang's shoulder as the other caresses the large butcher's knife strapped to his hip.
Next to Fang, Ivan glowers at the remaining crew, resting his elbows on the table and cracking his knuckles loudly.
Behind them, Black Pete stands, his face reddened with a barely contained rage as he grips the holster on his hip. He's not looking at Garrett, however, no, Black Pete only has eyes for Lucius. He stares at the hand keeping his lover pinned against a stranger and his grip tightens.
It's only Wee John's hand on his arm that stops him from drawing it, though the giant man doesn't look too pleased himself.
And when Izzy looks back at Garrett, his face is draining of all colour and Izzy relishes the look of apprehension on his face.
Garrett had been arrogant, when it had just been Izzy. He's new to the sea, probably fancies himself the cock of the walk. No doubt he had thought Izzy nothing more than some old sad fuck, here to threaten his good time.
Probably gets off on the fact that his partner's unwilling. Makes him feel like a big man, subjugating another to his advances. Scum of the earth. He'd be doing every soul on this godforsaken island a service if he slit his throat. What an egotistical little fuck he’s been.
But now, with Izzy's men surrounding the table, outnumbering his remaining crew by three bodies, he doesn't look as tough. He looks like a coward, a coward who forces his will on the weak.
Izzy sees the exact moment Garrett secedes. The man's throat works around a swallow as he slowly lets go of Lucius, who jerks himself away, slamming into the next man on the bench. The man cowers back like he's terrified of the boy, his eyes darting to Izzy. Whatever he sees in Izzy's expression is enough to make him jump from his seat and hurry to the back door.
"Over here, boy, come on," Izzy says, patting the seat to his left. Lucius hops off the bench, hurrying to Izzy's left side and when he has a seat, Black Pete comes over the table and sits on the last sliver of the bench.
They're lucky that Wee John follows Black Pete's example, trudging over the opposite side and plopping down on the right of Garrett. Because if he hadn't, then the table might have toppled over due to the weight of the three men squished together at the end of the bench. Wee John slams an elbow onto the table, using his height and size to loom over Garrett, who apparently has never seen a man bigger than him, because his face pales quickly.
"You sure there ain't a problem, Izzy?" Wee John asks though he's staring down Garrett.
"Of course," Izzy replies, taking another drag of his cigar. He motions for Lucius to scoot over and he does, pressing as close as he can to Pete. Izzy turns in his seat and ashes the cigar on the floor behind them before bringing it back to his face, blowing softly on the cherry.
It glows with heat, lighting up his face.
"And there won't be one," Izzy concludes before turning to Wee John. "Mister Feeney, grab his arm."
Garrett's eyes widen as they dart over to Izzy and as soon as Wee John wraps one giant arm around Garrett's upper arm, Izzy lunges.
He's on his feet in an instant, his right hand grabbing that stupid fucking ponytail and ripping his head backward.
The tavern is quiet again, so quiet that Izzy can hear the candle flame flickering.
Izzy leans down to stare into Garrett's eyes as he snarls, "You think this is fucking funny?! You think you can just put your hands on one of my fucking boys?"
"Izzy–" Garrett starts but Izzy stops him with a shake.
"Shut the fuck up!" he roars. "I told you to get your fucking hands off him and you didn't fucking listen! You think I'm playing around?! You think this is a fucking game, you stupid fucking twat?! "
And Izzy twists the cigar in his hand, turning to hold it like a dagger and jams the red-hot lit end of the cigar directly into the middle of Garrett's nautical star tattoo. Garrett howls in agony, trying to squirm away but Wee John holds him still as the cigar burns into his flesh. The man begs him to stop, his voice echoing throughout the tavern and all Izzy can think is, 'The boy would have begged him the same way.'
And Garrett would not have heeded his pleas so neither does Izzy. He holds it longer than really necessary, waiting for the cigar to burn out before he pulls it off. The ash is embedded into the skin and a ring of pink flesh sticks to the smoldering cherry of the cigar. Izzy gives the wound a glance and the sight of the gaping circle filled with blistering yellow flesh cut out of the man’s neck is almost revolting enough to make Izzy feel pity for him.
Almost. But just not enough.
Garrett's hand comes up and covers the wound as tears build in his eyes.
"Ffff-fuck! Fuck, please, I'm sorry! " He sobs like a child and Izzy relishes in the feeling of his blood surging through his veins as the adrenaline fully sinks in.
"You're apologizing to me? Apologize to my fucking boy!"
Izzy yanks his head up and forces him to look at Lucius. To Izzy's surprise, Lucius isn't looking away like he'd thought the boy would be. Though he does look a bit sick, he's staring right back at Garrett.
"Lucius–" Garrett starts and Izzy cuts him off with a growled "Mister Spriggs."
"Mister Spriggs!" Garrett wails, his hand covering his wound. "Mister Spriggs, I'm sorry! I-I didn't– I'm sorry!"
Lucius swallows once, his eyes darting to Garrett's hand on his neck and a reluctant smile lights up his face. He reaches forward, snatching the hand and trying to pry the fingers open. It only takes one look from Izzy for Garrett to willingly open his fist. Lucius quickly rips off the rings of his fingers, placing them on his side of the table.
"Those are mine–" Garrett protests before Izzy presses a finger to his swelling skin. He shrieks in pain and Izzy's responding smile is almost a snarl.
"Those are his," Wee John corrects as he lifts the other hand and takes the ill-fitting rings off. He hands them to Lucius, who gives him a shaking smile.
When Lucius seems appeased by his bounty, Izzy wrenches Garrett's head back again.
"If I ever fucking see you again, I will personally have you burned alive, do you hear me?"
Garrett tries to nod but it's not good enough for Izzy. He shakes his head, his grip tightening on his ponytail and Garrett cries out.
"I said DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND ME, YOU RAT-FACED FUCKING LOBCOCK?!"
"Yes! Yes! I understand!"
"Good," Izzy hisses before he adjusts his grip on Garrett's hair and uses it to slam the man's face into the table.
It makes a satisfying crunch noise when his nose hits the table so Izzy does it again, grinning when blood spurts out from Garrett's face. He wants to do it again, to smash his fucking head to pieces for even thinking of touching Lucius but he restrains himself. Instead, he uses his left hand to grip the front of Garrett's shirt– Wee John must know what he's aiming for because he lets go of the man's arm immediately– and rips him from the bench, using all his strength to throw the man away from the table with a loud yell.
(His back twinges and Izzy knows he'll be paying for that tomorrow. He's not as young as he used to be, he really needs to remember that.)
Garrett lands in a pathetic heap, his hands coming up to guard his bleeding nose. Izzy points at the back door and bears his teeth.
"Get out."
Garrett nods, scrambling backwards and the remaining men at the table jump up, darting past Izzy in their haste to get to their captain. One man stops to help Garrett to his feet, pausing to check his boss' nose and Izzy snaps.
"NOW!"
The men skitter to the door, Garrett dripping blood in his wake and finally, they exit the pub, crashing into the back door and spilling out onto the pavement. The door swings shut behind them and Izzy takes a deep breath, smoothing back his hair. He spots the forgotten cigar on the floor and scoops it up, turning back toward the bar. The barmaid is staring at him, her mouth open and closing like a fish, and she's clutching a broomstick in her hands like a club. Izzy raises one hand and beckons her over.
She pales, drops the broomstick and hurries to his side, her soft footsteps reverberating in the silence. When she stops to stand before him, he notices her shoulders are shaking. That won't do at all, so he lowers his voice to a calming mutter. "Dear, get rid of this for me. We need a rag, to clean the table, and a round for my crew, if you please."
The barmaid's shoulders jump up as Izzy drops the burnt-out cigar into her hands. "Y-Yes, of course, Mister Hands–!"
"Izzy's fine."
"Izzy! A-And the drinks are on the house!"
He shakes his head. Poor thing can't be more than eighteen and here comes big bad Izzy, scaring the piss out of her when she was probably expecting a calm night of wrangling drunks and keeping the working girls in line.
Izzy did always have a soft spot for kids.
"None of that, girl. We'll pay for our grog, just the same as anyone else."
The girl takes off toward the bar and Izzy motions for the group on the bench to scoot over so they're not squashed on the very edge of it. When they finish their shuffle, Izzy slips between the space left for him between Wee John and Lucius. He's seated in front of Jim now, who's looking at him with a kind of appreciative wonder, their mouth parted slightly. Oluwande goes to sit next to them, or at least tries to before Roach is shoving Jim over and taking their spot across from Izzy. The man stares at him like he's never seen him before, his eyes wide. He props his elbow on the table and places his chin onto his palm, leaning forward.
After a few moments of silence, Roach breathes, "Ho-lee shit, mate."
And the tavern breathes with him, exhaling a relieved sigh now that they believe the worst of it is over.
"That was fucking wild, man," Jim says excitedly, flipping their dagger into their pocket.
"You're fucking crazy, boss," Fang says gleefully and privately, Izzy lets himself feel a little pride at the remark.
"Respect," Wee John says, clapping a hand onto Izzy's shoulder. "Wish Frenchie was here to see that."
Izzy shrugs, turning to the boy who is now huddled against Pete, fussing with the rings in his hands. "You alright, kid?"
"Yeah, fine," Lucius says tensely before dumping the rings onto the table.
"What happened?" Ivan asks, helping Lucius lay out his bounty.
"Did a bit of pickpocketing in the market. But the Crown didn't catch me," Lucius says, turning to Izzy. "One of his fuckers did. Said they'd turn me over unless I followed them and… did what they wanted."
He curls in on himself, looking a bit green, and Pete rubs his shoulders. Fang reaches over and grabs his hand, holding it tightly.
"You went diving without a lookout?" Izzy asks and he really doesn't mean it to come out so accusatory.
"Never had anybody to keep watch for me," Lucius snaps before he remembers himself. He pulls back, looking shamefully at the table. "And…sorry. Thank you. For saving me and all. I've… been in those sorts of situations before and-and… it doesn't end well."
The table falls silent, each member looking some degree of sickened or upset. Pete doesn't look exactly surprised, just sorrowful, and Izzy guesses that Lucius had already told him before. Pete reaches to his back and begins rubbing circles into his shoulder. A flame of anger burns in Izzy's chest at the thought that the boy's been through this before and never had someone look out for him or rescue him.
"Not again," Izzy says firmly as he slams a hand on the table. "You take a lookout from now on and if any limp-dicked ponce fucking tries something with you, you look them right in the face and ask if they want to speak to Izzy fucking Hands because I'd really like to know if someone's fucking with one of my boys."
"I'll go with you," Fang says and Ivan nods along with him.
"Or me, if Fang's busy," Jim adds.
"I'd offer, babe, but I'm not exactly subtle," Pete says with a soft smile. "Soon as anyone looks at you, I'd probably break their nose."
That gets a laugh out of Lucius and the blazing inferno inside Izzy’s chest cools to a smouldering ember.
"I remember," Lucius says. "That poor man probably just wanted directions or something."
"Yeah, directions into a fucking fist," Pete says darkly and Lucius giggles. "You don't just fucking grab people like that and not expect a punch."
"Somebody grabbed him?" Wee John asks as the barmaid reappears, balancing a tray of full tankards. Wee John smiles at the girl and helps her lower the tray to the table. Izzy holds out his hand for the damp rag and the girl passes it over.
Thankfully, the blood hasn't fully dried so it only takes a few good scrubs to lift it off the wood. Once he's done, he folds it so the blood is inside the ball of cloth and hands it back to the girl. Then he digs in his pocket, pulling out a handful of coins and motions for the girl to take them.
Izzy doesn't bother counting them. It's more than enough, maybe even double what he owes, but Izzy has too many enemies already. He can't really afford to make any more today. The girl brightens considerably and she gushes out thanks as she passes out the tankards. Izzy sniffs the cup in his hand and is pleased to find that it's the good rum again. He'll give her a nice tip on the way out.
"Yeah," Pete continues when he's gotten his drink. "Me and LuLu, we were just walking along, looking at the sights and some cunt comes outta nowhere and grabs him. Fucking broke his nose for it, thought he was going to try and rob him or something."
"Good on ya," Fang says, raising his tankard. He and Pete clink their mugs together before taking a large gulp.
"Extends'ta all of you," Izzy adds as an afterthought. "Much as I don't like it– and I do not fucking like it– you're my boys now and nobody fucks with Izzy's boys."
He pauses for a moment, looking at Jim and searching for a word. It's just a stupid title, a reminder to all that this group is untouchable but it still feels wrong to ascribe it to Jim. "Boys and… person?"
Jim nods, examining Izzy closely. Their face is blank but over the tankard, their eyes light up with amusement. "Not a boy and if you call me that, I'll stab you, but I'm fine with being one of… Izzy's boys. As, like, a title or whatever."
"To bein’ 'Izzy's boys'!" Ivan cries happily, already plastered from the first sip. Man's a lightweight if Izzy's ever seen one.
The others raise their tankards with their own cheers. Lucius surprises him, and a lot of the table judging by the impressed chuckles that follow, when he chugs half the tankard and slams it back onto the table.
"Alright, enough of that!' he says, clapping his hands. "These rings really are mine. Technically. Lifted them before that bastard's lackey caught me. Looks like there's enough for each of us so take your pick!"
"No, Lu, come on," Roach says after he finishes his mug.
"Those are yours, you worked for 'em!" Oluwande agrees.
"Don't take one and I'll be upset," Lucius says resolutely and the table grumbles in agreement. "Oh, Izzy, you go first!"
Izzy's about to snap, to tell the kid he doesn't need any stupid fucking jewelry but when Izzy looks at him, his eyes are wide and his bottom lip is jutting out. He's fucking pouting. Christ.
"Fine," Izzy spits as he looks over the rings. Most of them are flashy, with too many stones or too fancy a head, but he settles on a plain thick silver band with a garnet stone. The stone's a bit too big for his tastes but the colour, he has to admit, is nice. A good dark red.
And it fits on the pointer finger of his left hand perfectly.
"There," Izzy growls, waving his hand in Lucius' face. "Happy now?"
"I think I could expire from this joy," Lucius says dramatically, placing a hand on his sternum.
"Fuck off," Izzy says but there's no heat behind it and if he's not careful, he might start smiling.
The rest of the group divides up the rings, Wee John grabs the large ruby ring– it looks like Izzy could fit two fingers in it but it fits Wee John's finger just fine– while Jim turns over a teal opal band in their hands. Oluwande accepts an orange gem that Izzy doesn't know the name of and Roach quickly grabs its mate. They both slip it on and giggle amongst themselves, like toddlers.
"Jim, look, me and Olu match!"
Jim only rolls their eyes fondly as they tuck their band into a pocket inside their duster. Lucius snatches a light blue gem– aqua-something-or-other– up and grabs Pete's left hand. He puts the band onto his ring finger and Pete flushes bright red.
"Goes with your pretty eyes, babe," Lucius flirts obnoxiously and Oluwande groans.
"Lucius, we're sitting right here, come on!"
The couple giggle at the end of the bench, ignoring Oluwande's pleas for them to act decently as Pete grabs one of the last rings left, an emerald stone set in silver, and slides it onto Lucius' left hand.
"And this, my love, matches your own gorgeous eyes."
The table erupts into playful grousing, all of them (except Izzy, who's decided to pretend that they do not exist) griping at the two lovebirds while they cackle together, pleased as punch. Ivan and Fang both grab the remaining rings and swap them a few times, trying to make up their minds. Eventually Fang takes the diamond and undoes his necklace, letting the ring slide onto the string before he ties it back around his neck. Ivan settles with the other emerald, placing it on his right hand and grinning.
The night dissolves from there as the barmaid brings them round after round and somewhere in the drunken haze, Izzy realizes he's grinning, an arm slung around Lucius' shoulders, and having the fucking time of his life, swapping stories with Jim, reluctantly chuckling at Wee John's jokes, teasing Pete relentlessly, getting into nonsensical bets with Roach, and comforting Fang when he gets a bit teary-eyed.
Eventually, the fun has to end and Izzy, despite being three sheets to the wind, is still the same responsible bastard he always was and he makes the group file out from the tavern before the sun breeches the horizon. They somehow make the slow trip back to the ship, only stopping occasionally to let one of the members puke on the side of the road and it's surely by divine miracle only that they all make it safely aboard and into their bunks.
By this time, the world is spinning and Izzy's not completely sure what the hell's going on or where he is. But he does know he needs to get back to his bunk. He sees the door to the stairway and makes a lurch towards it when a warm hand wraps around his own. When he looks down, he realizes he's squatting next to Lucius, who's curled into his mattress with Pete slumbering behind him. Lucius looks up at him, his eyes scrunched almost closed as he begins sobbing.
"Oh, oh, no, c-come on," Izzy slurs, reaching out a hand to pat his head. "Don't-Don't do that, 'kay? Ef'rything's fine."
"Thank you, I-Izzy," the boy hiccups pitifully. "Really, th-thank you! If you hadn't turned up, they… they would have…"
And the boy trails off as a sob overtakes him so violently that he gags. Or maybe it's from the thought of what could have happened tonight and what had happened before.
"Ish okay, Lucius, okay? It's fine now," he mumbles, trying to calm the kid down. "Not 'gain. Never again. Yer one of mine now and I'm not gone let some fucking… fuckers treat you bad, 'kay?"
"O-Okay," Lucius says after a few minutes of Izzy petting his head. He's considerably calmer now. "Thank you."
"A'right," Izzy says, slapping his hands on his knees. "Gotta be gettin' to bed."
"G'night," Lucius says, half-conscious as he begins to fall asleep.
"Night," Izzy says softly, rising from his crouched position. He turns toward the stairway’s door and takes a step.
Then another.
And promptly passes out.
When Izzy awakens the next morning, miraculously in his own bunk, he knows two things without even opening his eyes.
One, he is about to experience the worst hangover of his entire life.
And two, he spent way too much money last night.
So all in all, he had a pretty fucking good time. Surprising, considering that he had assumed most of Bonnet's crew didn't know a proper good time, even if it bit them on the ass.
His eyes peek open and even the single ray of sunlight makes his head throb. He reaches up to massage his temple when he's startled by a flash of colour on his hand. He raises his left hand to the light and a blood-red garnet ring sparkles in the sun. It takes a second of sifting through all the drunken antics of last night before Izzy remembers what exactly took place yesterday but eventually, he does. He lays there for a few moments, enjoying the way the gem gleams in the sunlight and thinks it isn't so bad. In fact, for a piece of fancy jewelry, it's quite… pretty.
He thinks of his own ring, the one he wears on his cravat, small and thin with a perfect diamond inset into the middle of the band and thinks that maybe they would go quite well together. He sits up, looks around his room before realizing he's still wearing the damned thing. Luckily he didn't choke himself during the night. He undoes the cravat, taking the diamond ring and weighing it in his palm. He's been wearing it for nearly 15 years now and he's sure he'll be buried with it.
It's just as pretty as the first day Izzy saw it and he sighs wistfully. He places it carefully back onto the cravat before sliding the new ring over it.
Izzy grabs his shaving mirror and inspects the cravat.
The garnet ring is just big enough to encompass the smaller ring without damaging either band and for some reason, the thought of hiding the diamond from view doesn't make Izzy as angry as he thought it would.
Because it's not exactly hidden, is it? If anyone stands closely enough, they'd be able to see the diamond ring just under the garnet one.
It's still there, safe and protected.
It will always be there, just under the surface, and Izzy feels comforted by that fact.
He stands and stretches, a smile on his face despite the pain in his head.
As he begins to get ready to start his day, he's sure of one thing.
Sam would have loved Lucius.