Three Sentence Ficathon

It was a boring raid until Stede's awed gasp of, "Oh, Ed, come look at this, such craftsmanship," while they searched the captain's cabin for valuables caused Ed to turn and see his co-captain standing with what appeared to be a golden butterfly balanced on the end of one finger, jewel tone highlights of blue and green and purple glinting in the sunlight as it halfheartedly flapped its wings as if indecisive over whether it wanted to take flight or remain where it was.

Closer inspection revealed what Stede had meant about craftsmanship: it was a gold brooch instead of a living insect, its enameled wings mounted on the tiniest springs Ed had ever seen so that every small vibration sent them fluttering like the real thing, and Ed dreamed for a brief moment of wearing something so fine before he took another look at Stede's eager expression and magnanimously said, "It'll look good on you."

"They would look lovely on you, too," Stede said, grinning as he used his free hand to point at a jewelry box containing at least a dozen more, and when Ed and Stede returned to the Revenge, they were both festooned with golden butterflies.