Captain Horatio Hornblower (
captainhornblower) wrote2011-08-15 09:49 pm
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Seventh Dispatch - [voice]/[action]
[Horatio Hornblower's voice is very calm, very quiet. It sounds... not even curious. He is almost stating a fact, rather than asking a question.]
Lieutenant Bush's things are gone.
Why? What is the meaning of this?
[His housemates... will find him in his own room now, seated at his desk, the journal lying open in front of him-- if they dare disturb.]
Lieutenant Bush's things are gone.
Why? What is the meaning of this?
[His housemates... will find him in his own room now, seated at his desk, the journal lying open in front of him-- if they dare disturb.]
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[He stops, and cannot continue this babble. It's finally hit home for Horatio, and that's a scary thing, scary because he knows the panic that comes with it himself. Wondering if it would be this heartbeat or the next, just like on his deathbed.]
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[The word catches his ear more than anything else, because it is the only word he can bear to think on. His laugh is somewhat weak, somewhat unsteady, but it is not wholly divorced from himself, not any kind of break toward madness.]
Letters...
Indeed.
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It seems appropriate.
[And a habit he might take up out of comfort. It helped once, to some degree at least.]
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No.
But I-- [He catches himself. Archie has said it before. He sees himself as his lieutenant. And a lieutenant needs a captain on whom he can rely, a man who can hold himself tall, who can command. Not one who worries and doubts.]
No. You're quite right, Archie.
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You don't have to believe me now. But it's not much different. Right now, we're both here. That's all that matters. Otherwise we'll drive ourselves mad.
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I've walked that line before.
But he forces himself to shrug and sit up straighter before he looks at Archie again.]
I-- I'm sorry, Archie. Carrying on this way.
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It's just us, Horatio.
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He had learned to smother strong indications of emotion, to check himself at every sentence. While sometimes talk with Archie flowed as easily as if they'd never parted, sometimes he felt the years that had by.
Finally, he managed something close to a smile and nodded.]
It is.
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He might come back. Jack went home for a week, remember.
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And... he is home. That is a comfort.
[A small comfort, as he'd rather William with him, but at least the man was in one place that he belonged, and Horatio could assure himself that being back in the British Navy was better than having to know that his friend was dead.
He'd survived that once. Doing so again would not be as easy.
Though, either way... At least he had someone. Someone who would tolerate his moods, be firm when necessary but gentle when permissible. He was not alone, as he had been on Retribution. He had Archie.
Even that made it easier to bear.]
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[He's trying to make light of it, and direct Horatio's thoughts forward. He'll miss William's simple wisdom and easy companionship. Having him here made this place feel a little more like home.
At least he'd been able to see him again, and know they could have been real friends.]
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[Horatio shakes off the thought before it can take too strong a hold. Even back home, he's had to part ways with William. It will be a long time (made longer by Luceti, but at least here he has Archie to make the time feel short) because he sees William Bush again.
But he thinks of the rest of Archie's statement and manages a smile, however faint, however unsteady.]
And that is a shame, certainly. But I do think we can manage.
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[Horatio hardly ever speaks of his wife, and Archie has often suspected something is wrong. This might let loose a clue.]
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I'm not sure that's an apt name for a vessel of war.
[Guns or not, there would be gun ports. She would be able, if guns ever appeared, to carry them.]
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[That was the sort of thing Jack would say, wasn't it?]
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[He smiled just faintly and looked at Archie.]
Something fit for a proper voyage, fit for battle...
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Like the Indefatigable. But I'll try drawing a few plans for her. She might not end up much, but she'll be ours, and bigger than anything else that sails these waters.
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[Horatio couldn't help but grin at the thought.]
I loved Hotspur... She was mine. First proper command. [Retribution, he didn't count.] But she could never be the Indy.
She'll always be home.
[It's a warm, affectionate tone, far, far fonder than he's spoken about his wife... Or much else.]
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One glass of brandy.
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He's really gone.
A moment later, he sets the bottle down and forces a smile at Horatio.]
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