Chapter Text
The morning meetings always ended with a group meditative chant. It was so far, the one part of his new routine that Stede couldn’t get used to. The cast and directors of the Onondaga Renaissance Faire, gathered most mornings around the stage and benches of the large amphitheater under the branches of the maple trees.
It had been four very surreal weeks of improvisation workshops, building characters, and learning Shakeperean language and folk songs in the fictional medieval village of Wickward, England. He hadn’t known what to expect when he’d responded to the open auditions in New York City; just that he’d need a clean break from the shit show of his life, and this offered a chance to perform distantly upstate and away from everyone who knew him. Stede hadn’t acted since college, but either he hadn’t completely lost his chops, or they were just desperate to fill the final slots, because he was hired on sight. Shortly after, he’d packed up what remained of his life into his little suv, said good-bye to the kids, and then drove off into the sunset.
Now he had an alter-ego, “Captain Thomas Bennet - The Gentleman Privateer,” that he’d been rehearsing long enough that he could go through the scripted shows in his sleep. He found it strange that letting his hair grow and putting on about 15 pounds of costuming could make him feel so much lighter.
“Stede? Come back to Earth, baby.” Spanish Jackie’s voice cut through his musings, and he blushed a bit as he focused on her. No one seemed to know where the nickname had come from, but nonetheless it had stuck.
“Right, sorry, yes?” He answered, sitting up straighter as Lucius, the little shit, snickered beside him.
“We’re just going through the final song list for the first pub sing - you’re comfortable with leading the Mingulay Boat Song?” She asked him, looking up at him over her glasses as she read from a clipboard. Stede looked down at his own copy, which the Creative Director had passed out at the beginning of the meeting.
Stede nodded, “Yes - yeah, I can do that.”
“Good good, depending on scheduling, Blackbeard may join you, but he’s easy to sing with, so don’t fret it.”
Lucius nudged him as Jackie moved on to her next line item. “Ooo leading a song your first year? With Blackbeard no less!” he teased, swinging his shoulders a little. “Look at you, Mr Gentleman Pirate, just the bell of the ball this season.”
“Oh hush,” he replied, fighting a smile, “I’d rather do it alone - don’t need the added nerves of singing with a new person.”
“Don’t worry about it - unlike most of the other Independents, Blackbeard can actually sing; he’ll just follow whatever key you’re in,” the other man assured him. “I’ve done a few songs with him before - he’s a good sport.”
“Okay kiddos, that should be all for now - let’s split up for show rehearsals and then meet up at the Pub Stage for pub-sing dress rehearsal at 3pm,” Jackie was finishing up, tucking the clip board under her arm. “Before we split, let’s take a moment to center ourselves for the weekend ahead. Everyone close your eyes.” Stede smiled as he listened to Lucius’s muttering about ‘hippie-shit’ as he closed his eyes. “This is our first weekend, and I want you all to have fun - we’ve been working really hard. So just take this moment to listen to the forest and your cast members around you - we’re all part of one family out here. Now deep breathe together…” there was a deep collective inhale, “and O-“ The full group sang the ‘Om’ together, in a wide dissonance of notes until they seemed to find their places together in a harmony of sorts. They held that note for several seconds and then let it drop while silence hung over the group. It was a silly practice, but out here in the woods away from the rest of the world, it also felt a little magical and sincere. Lucius may like to fuss, but even he participated completely.
The group dispersed after that, splitting up to head for the different stages to run through the staged scenes that were scheduled to happen all through the day. The Onondaga faire was a permanently built site that sprawled its buildings and cobblestone roads down the hills and bowers of over 35 acres of picturesque forest. Several of the larger buildings had multiple floors and acted as storage or living spaces for some of the cast members. Today, he walked with Lucius and Olu from the main stage along the gravel path toward the designated Pirate Camp area.
“Oh, the guys are here,” Olu said, looking over at Blackbeard’s Stage, “Hey Ivan!” Stede looked over to see three men setting up sound equipment, one of them looked up at the sound of his name and waved back. Ivan put down the speaker he was carrying and jogged over, smiling, “What’s up man! Good to see you back!” He greeted Olu with a hand clasp that became a hug, patting him on the back.
“Like they could get rid of me,” Olu demurred, looking around the stage and tents set around, “Is uh…did Jim arrive with you guys?” He was desperately trying to seem like he didn’t care - and steadfastly refusing to look at Lucius who was grinning wickedly.
Ivan laughed and pointed back up the hill towards the entrance, “I think they are checking out the knife booths.”
“Great, I’m going that way already.” Stede blinked - he most certainly hadn’t been. “Maybe I’ll say hi while I’m up there.” Olu clapped his hands together and broke away, starting to power walk up the brick path.
“What about rehearsal?” Stede called up after him.
“Don’t need it - see you at three!”
Lucius laughed and rolled his eyes, “Christ, I hope they finally hook up this year; it’s exhausting watching them dance around it.” He turned back to Ivan, “Is the big man here? I was going to introduce our new blood this year - Stede.” Lucius finished with a flourish of his hand towards him - Ivan offered his hand and Stede shook it warmly.
“Welcome to the mad-house,” he said with a wink before looking back to Lucius, “No, he gets in late as fuck on Friday; we’re going to play rock, paper, scissors to see who has to go pick him up from Syracuse.”
A sharp whistle came from the direction of the stage and all three men turned to look. A stern-looking older man had put his hands on his hips, “Let’s go, Ivan; I want to get this done before it gets fucking hot.”
“Duty calls,” Ivan sighed, then waved as he stepped away, “Good to meet you, Stede; Bye Lucius!”
The next day, the site was alive with the arrivals of vendors, crafts people, and the rest of the independent acts. Stede had discovered early on that were similar faires all over the country, and that many people made their living by traveling the whole year round to different locations, including shows like Blackbeard’s Pirate Academy, which were sought out and hired by faires to perform their specific acts. He could only presume that shows like this were a huge draw to the faire because Blackbeard had a permanent stage built here, and his big bearded silhouette was featured prominently just about all of the advertisements that he’d seen.
Stede spent most of his day helping ‘Wee’ John, the costume designer, finish last touches and some small repairs to the various garments the cast would wear for the next eight weekends. It helped to calm his nerves to work his hands, so he was grateful that John tolerated him. “It seems weird - like he’s a celebrity,” Stede was saying.
“Oh you have no idea,” John replied as he looked critically at a portion of beadwork on a gown, headlamp on his forehead. “For this audience, guys like Blackbeard are total rockstars. Just wait until tomorrow, you’ll see people lose their shit.”
“Really, is it a ‘pirate’ thing?”
John clicked his headlamp off and sat up to look at him with a laugh, “I mean the pirate angle helps - that whole sexy, dangerous rogue schtick. The die-hard fans love the entire crew, though. Last year they started selling team t-shirts for for each cast member - Fang had a really impressive showing.”
There was a knock on the door, and then the stern faced man from yesterday walked up the stairs and into the workroom, “You in, Wee John?” He asked, looking around; he had a red garment of some kind folded over his arm.
“Over here,” John replied and waved him over, “Ah, Izzy. What can I do for you?”
Izzy scowled a bit and lifted the garment slightly, “One of the boys stepped on our dress and ripped a bunch of seams - can I impose on you for some help?”
John hitched a thumb over his shoulder towards Stede, “I’m swamped, but Stede can take a look - he’s a dab hand with the Singer.” Izzy’s eyes landed on him, and even though the man couldn’t be more than 10 years older than him, he just gave off some intense ‘disappointed father’ energy that made Stede feel like he was twelve again and about to get the beating of his life.
He forced himself to clear his throat and hold his hand out, “Uh, yeah, I’d be happy to - let’s see the damage.”
“Thanks,” Izzy said and walked over. Together, they spread the dress out on one of the large worktables for him to examine. “You’re that new guy Ivan was talking to yesterday, right?”
He nodded, looking over where the red ruffled skirt had been pulled away from the attached bodice. “Yeah, this is my first year at a faire.”
Izzy’s brows lifted, “Like at any ren faire?”
“I didn’t even know they were a thing until I auditioned,” Stede replied, carrying the dress over to the sewing machine.
“Ah, you’re a runaway then,” he said, nodding and crossing his arms to lean back against the wall and watch Stede work.
He frowned as he installed some red thread, “That’s a pretty bold assumption.” Even as he denied it, he was hit by flashbacks to screamed arguments with Mary, divorce proceedings, and saying good-bye to his kids.
Izzy only shrugged, “Most people get into this business because they’re running away from something.”
Stede finished the last stitches to reattach the skirt and then cut the thread, “What did you run from?” He held the dress out to Izzy, who took it while holding his gaze like a judgmental hawk.
“Bit early in the season for those stories,” he said, then turned and waved to Wee John, “Thanks for the help; see ya John.”
Then he was gone and John started chuckling, “Oh, I think he likes you.”
Stede sighed and put his head in his hands.
Opening day passed in a blur for Stede - the empty village he’d played pretend in for the past month was suddenly overfilled with life and activity as visitors poured in. He scarcely had time to think about anything except where ‘Thomas Bennet’ had to be next. Thankfully, his shows and scenes went smoothly, and the Gentleman Privateer in his fancy aqua brocade suit and tricorn hat seemed to be a hit with a crowds. When he was able to get a break, he retreated back to John’s work room where he nearly shotgunned a bottle of water.
“What d’you think so far?” John asked, fixing a few loose threads from his sleeve. Stede looked out the window that faced downhill.
“Wow,” was all he could say at first, “I mean…it’s amazing.” He could see the Pirate Academy stage - damn near standing room only, it was packed so tightly.
“It’s a helluva rush,” John agreed, then pointed out the window, “Oh see, that’s what I meant.” Stede glanced back out just as Blackbeard made his entrance to the stage and the crowd erupted. Blackbeard was a tallish man, wearing a cropped leather doublet with one sleeve removed to reveal a tanned tattooed arm. He also wore tight leather pants with matching boots and gloves. A gun and sword were holstered in a belt slung around his waist, and the look was finished by a black cavalier style hat with purple feathers. He also had a long black beard that was hilariously fake. Stede was somewhat surprised it didn’t fly off as he spun around with a bull whip, hitting targets held by audience members with a practiced ease. Each time he did, the crowd screamed with delight.
Well. Color Stede impressed. “You weren’t kidding,” he answered, looking back at John who laughed and pressed a protein bar into his hand.
“Wait til they do their adult show at the end of the day,” he said, “Now eat that - newbies always forget to eat their first weekend, and I don’t want you fainting.”
In no time at all, the shadows were getting longer and Stede found himself standing by a tree at the pub stage, waiting for his cue. A figure came to stand beside him, “You’re the privateer, right?” He looked over and discovered it was Blackbeard, still wearing the ridiculous beard. His voice was softer than Stede would have guessed, with a lilting accent he couldn’t place.
“Aye, Sir, that is me,” he replied in character, aware of the ever-present audience around him.
“Great, d’you want to play like you caught me or something?” Blackbeard continued, smiling.
Stede blinked, “What like in a net?”
“Have you got a net?”
“Nay, not on my person.”
“Ah…shame that, maybe next time. I’ve got shackles you can borrow,” he said smoothly, reaching behind his back to pull out a pair of manacles. Stede noticed that Blackbeard was wearing a knee brace now, over his pants though it matched well to the costume.
“What else do you just carry around in that belt?”
Blackbeard waggled his eyebrows at him and passed the shackles to him, “Only the essentials for yer basic pillaging, plundering, and what not.”
Stede grinned and closed the cuffs around Blackbeard’s offered wrists, “Very well, I’m placing you under arrest for piracy and will present you to her Majesty as a tribute.”
The master of ceremonies, Olu in the role of village sheriff, called out for the Gentleman Privateer, and Stede made his entrance, leading Blackbeard down to the stage. Lucius was right, Blackbeard was easy to work with. Stede announced to the crowd that he’d captured the fearsome pirate and was endeavoring to reform him by teaching him the ways of being a gentleman. The other man picked up the trail as if they had rehearsed it, and agreed that he was a changed man and would only ever shoot someone with his pinky held aloft. The Queen looked aghast and Stede made a show of attempting to cover the gaffe by offering to share a shanty for everyone’s entertainment. The Mingulay Boat Song was a simple folk song, but in the current arrangement, it started with a solo singer and then the rest of the ensemble joined in. So, you had to start with confidence in your melody. He caught Blackbeard’s eye as he named the song they’d be performing, and the cheeky fucker winked at him. Instead of nerves, it filled Stede with a thrill to hopefully impress - singing was the only skill he’d kept up from his lamented theater degree, and he was grateful for it now. He took a deep breath and sang the opening chorus strongly, voice carrying out over the audience. Blackbeard waited until the first line of the song repeated, then joined Stede with a perfect harmony - Stede was so shocked he nearly lost his place. The band kicked in shortly after, and they were off to the races while the crowd whistled and cheered.
The guests ate the whole scene up, and Stede was practically buzzing with endorphins when they left they stage. Walking along the edge of the crowd to return to his place, Stede shared a wild grin with Blackbeard and murmured, “Thanks, that was really fun.”
“See ya tomorrow, mate.” The other man grinned back and reached out to companionably clap on him the shoulder as he continued past to return to his stage down the hill.
Now that he’d passed through a whole day of first performances without any major issues, Stede actually started to have fun on Sunday. The weather was perfect and mild, the press of the crowd had lessened just enough to not feel quite so claustrophobic. It began to feel less like a job, and more like playing with his friends in the woods. He had to admit that the happy attention from the audiences didn’t hurt either, appealing to a dramatic, theatrical part of himself that had been ignored for a long time. ‘Captain Bennet’ wandered through the streets of the village, taking time to chat with guests or take pictures with folks who had also come in costume. John hadn’t been exaggerating when he’d tried to describe to Stede just how popular the show was.
This time, when the cannon fired to signal the end of the day, he felt energized and itching for some sort of release. Thankfully, he wasn’t alone in that feeling because Lucius came running up behind him as he walked back towards the costuming house to change. The younger man clapped his hands on Stede’s shoulders and shook him.
“Stede! We’re going out to karaoke tonight - Pete’s going to drive us, so I want to see you get sloppy!”
He laughed and playfully pushed him away, “Who’s going?”
Lucius stole the bottle of water he was carrying and took a drink, “Mm just about everyone in the cast - it’s a Sunday tradition to go out after the show and decompress.”
“Sounds perfect,” he said taking his water back, “was this weekend good? I don’t know if it was good or just because I’m new.”
“This was a great opener - big happy crowds and nice weather; it’s all we could ask for. Now go get changed, I’m forcing you to sing tonight.”
Sometime after midnight, hours later, Stede swayed and leaned against Olu’s shoulder while they stood around a bar table. The place had filled with the cast and many of the other vendors, becoming rowdy and familiar in a way that made Stede nostalgic for when he was a younger man. “Can I tell you guys something fucking sad?” he asked the table at large.
Pete looked from him to Lucius, “Uh, are we on the express bus to sad drunk town?”
“Stede, baby, it’s too early to kill the buzz,” Lucius told him.
Olu clicked his tongue disapprovingly at the both of them, “C’mon, don’t be cunty.” He nudged his shoulder under Stede, “Go ahead - tell me something really fucking sad.”
He sighed and set his glass on the table, ran a hand through his hair, then said, “I didn’t come out of the closet until last year.” Both Lucius and Pete gasped and lifted their hands in shock, Pete over his heart and Lucius over his mouth.”
“Hey, that’s not sad though - that’s great,” Olu tried to cheer him, rubbing Stede’s back, “You’re out now and that’s all that matters.”
“I mean, yes - and I do feel so much better, but like…I also feel like I missed out on so much. Mary and I got married right out of college…Now I’m too old to be wild or hook up with anyone.”
“Okay firstly,” Lucius said, holding up his index finger, “forty-five is the new twenty-nine, so you’ve got plenty of time left to be wild. Secondly, you are in the exact right spot for young twinks with a weakness for an older man in leather - christ, look at Izzy.” He pointed over to another corner of the bar where Stede could see the man in question lean over to whisper something into the ear of a man at least twenty years his junior; the younger guy had his arm around Izzy’s waist, fingers hooked through a belt loop. Stede’s eyebrows rose and he looked away before he could be spotted gawking - well done, Izzy Hands.
“I just worry I’m not gay enough,” he said looking back to the group, drunkenly sharing his deepest fears with the group that now felt like his closest friends.
Lucius quirked a brow and tipped his head, “Uh, ma’am, you are drinking a white sangria and just stopped the whole conversation for us to talk about you. You are plenty gay.” Stede couldn’t help but laugh at that, as Olu shrugged.
“It’s true, even I clocked you when we met.”
“Aw, you’re just saying that to be nice,” Stede told him, shifting to lay his head on Olu’s shoulder.
“You know what you need?” Pete told him reaching over to cover his hand with his own, “you need to sing. Get up there and sing the biggest, gayest ballad you can think of!”
“Yes absolutely,” Lucius agreed clapping, “go sign up immediately!”
Soon after, Stede found himself bouncing on the balls of his feet behind the microphone as the synth started up; Olu gave a sharp whistle and clapped for him. The rest of the cast started paying attention as soon as the piano melody hit and they began to recognize the song. “Yes, Miss Bonnet - YES!” Lucius squealed from their table, dancing in place while he held up his phone to film.
“Where’ve all the good men gone, and where are all the gods?” Stede began to sing. And maybe it was all the alcohol, but Pete was right - he did need this in some way. He’d spent so much of his adult life trying not to be seen, feeling like he was trapped in a suit that didn’t fit, and deeply lonely. Here on this stage, singing Bonnie Tyler as if his life depended on it to his cast mates while they whistled and screamed like he was headlining Coachella, Stede felt alive, and sexy, and proud, and most importantly, he felt like himself for the first time in over a decade.