Chapter Text
Generally, Izzy was very good at reading people. Gauging their capabilities, their usefulness, before deciding what was to become of them, if they were worth having around or just a liability. He was never surprised to see someone’s failure, and thus never taken aback.
But with the prince, things were different.
When he had taken him from the cell, he had thought he would be killed right there as an example. Then he had been taken upstairs and given a drink. Then the man began recounting Izzy’s life like he was some famed character in a novel. Then the offer for Izzy to join him.
An offer he never would have accepted; that had been presented before in the form of the privateers. No, the offer wasn’t what had confused him. It was the way Ricky looked at him. The way he listened intently to what he said, instead of tuning out once Izzy had refused. The ever so slight way he nodded his head, as if he agreed.
Then all hell had broken loose. Stede, Ed, and Zheng had bursted through the door, to little effect. Then those locked in the basement had come up, to a better effect. Then those forced to work turned and rebelled, to a much greater effect. Izzy hadn’t had the chance to join in.
That surprised him.
He had expected Stede to be alive (the man seemed comically invincible), he had expected Ed to return, he had expected Zheng to attack, and he knew it wasn’t long before everyone managed to find a way out of the crumbling prison cells.
If things had gone as they should have, then the prince would have panicked, fleeing from the scene, and Izzy would have gotten the lovely chance to trip him before taking care of him entirely. But he never got that chance, because Ricky did not flee.
He stood, grabbing Izzy’s arm and twisting it around his back as he looped his own arm around Izzy’s neck and dragged him toward the door. A sea of British soldiers separating them from any pirate who could stop, and the surprisingly tight grip of Ricky’s arm sending black dots speckling his vision.
It was a very mediocre way to go. A casualty in a fight where he never even had a sword.
--
“He’s an asset.” Ricky spoke curtly to the officer who currently had the unconscious pirate slung over his shoulders. “The Dread Pirate Blackbeard will surely want his first mate back alive, and we have that to offer him.”
“Right, your grace, of course. I will bring him to jail, then?”
“What? So one of you can fall asleep on your post and let him burn the ship to the ground? No. Bring him to my quarters and secure him in there. I want to be the first person alerted if he tries to escape.”
The man nodded, walking off toward the interior of the ship. Ricky stayed, watching the Republic of Pirates in ruin as they made their escape. Some would say he had been close to succeeding, but he would call it a success. Their haven was in ruin, smoldering ashes all that’s left of ships, now unable to follow them. And he had even left with a souvenir.
Amongst the faceless pirates they had captured was the one Ricky had been most enamored with during his readings. There was no page dedicated to Izzy hands, no one began their stories with his name. Not like they did Blackbeard, or Captain Kidd, or even the Gentlemen Pirate. But he was there. In every recollection from captured soldiers, or those who had survived raids, Blackbeard was feared for his psychotic nature, the unpredictability of his actions. But always mentioned was Israel Hands, because he was the one who did the killing, who ordered the burning, who chose the loot and supplies that would be taken from the ship.
The moment he had seen him, the moment he had corrected Ricky, he knew everything he had suspected about the man was true. Blackbeard was a terrifying name, but Izzy was the one they were afraid of.
With the Republic nothing more than a spec on the horizon, he went to go admire his new trophy.
--
Izzy had been pleasantly surprised to have awoken, and unpleasantly surprised to take in his surroundings. He was on the sea; he could tell from the familiar sway around him. He was not on the Revenge, although the pompous decor was not a far cry from what the ship had looked like before Ed’s mental snap. His arms were bound behind his back, and his prosthetic leg had been removed.
Although this room was far more spacious than anything the Revenge could hold. It was twice the size of the library, with a large four-post bed set to the side opposite of Izzy, and an obnoxiously large desk closest to him. He had been thoughtfully placed in an empty corner of the room where he could clearly be seen by the inhabitants, but where nothing was in reach.
There were multiple large rugs throughout the room, chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, useless tchotchkes scattered about.
He jumped as he spotted the prince just on the other side of the room, watching him in quiet contemplation as he sipped at his drink.
“Fucking Christ.” Izzy rasped.
“Are you looking for an escape?” he asked, like Izzy was some test subject.
“I’m looking to see where the hell I am before you drag me off to some cell.”
“You won’t be going to a cell. When you attempt to escape, I will be the first one aware of it.”
He scoffed, “When I escape, you’ll be the first one I kill.”
“I look forward to it.”
Izzy frowned at the response, testing the strength of the rope that restrained him. He felt the prince’s eyes on him now, watching his movements carefully.
“You’re in my quarters.”
“What?”
“You said you were trying to figure out where you were.”
Izzy had surmised as much. It was an interesting choice, certainly not one Izzy had expected but he couldn’t say it was foolish. Underestimating Ricky is what took down Zheng, and he could see the benefits of keeping your enemies close.
“What’s your plan for me, then?”
“What do you think my plan is?”
“Christ, with this. I’m not playing some game with you. I can sit in silence for all I care.”
“I’m curious.” Ricky shrugged, “Like I said, you were the brains on Blackbeard's ship. I’m curious as to what you would have done were the roles reversed. If I was your prisoner, what would you do?”
“Throw you off the ship.” Izzy scoffed.
“But you wouldn’t.” Again with that calm, knowing tone.
Izzy felt a shiver go through him at the thought that this man could say so confidently what Izzy would and wouldn’t do. But of course, he was right.
“I would keep you in a prison cell and wait for the British to pay your ransom.”
“Then?”
Another shiver. “Then sink the fucking ship when you had your backs turned.”
Ricky smiled. An earnest smile as he set his drink down again. “Then it’s true. Great minds do think alike. I think it’s a rather good plan; lure the one ship in that harbor unaffected by my onslaught, filled with the greatest pirates on the seas, and take them all out with the guise of success.”
It was a good plan.
“Bold of you to think they’ll come after me.”
“Oh, they’ll come after you. I wasn’t sure at first, since pirates are such bloodthirsty little marauders. But then I thought about your little speech about family, then I was sure.”
Izzy scowled at him, but Ricky took no notice as he finally stood from his chair, approaching the door.
“All the greatest pirates gone in a single motion.” he said wistfully as his hand hovered above the handle. He glanced over at Izzy, looking up and down his body as he added; “That is, if I don’t manage to change your mind.”
Then the door slammed shut.