captainhornblower | [luceti]

[for a moment, she actually stares. For all that she meant every offer, she hadn't actually expected him to go along with it.

Very quickly, however, she realizes that reacting is only going to make him take his hand back. Scrambling up to her feet with a nod, she moves to stand by his offered hand, her expression mostly neutral.

In her current state, each of his fingers is nearly twice as long as she is. She could easily have stood on his upturned palm and barely disturbed him with her weight.]

It doesn't help when one is hurting. You can't move the way you want to if you're trying to keep from bumping it.

[tiny hands taking hold of the bandages already in place, she glanced up at the captain.]

I... am not quite as capable with my left hand.

[But he is adjusting the bandages that are already starting to slip.]

I burned my hand some time ago. Before I came here...

[A very, very faint smile.]

When I... finally had time to wrap it-- it was on my right hand...

I needed Mr. Bush's help.

[she tugs the fabric of the bandages carefully, like straightening the sheets on a bed. Her gaze flickers between his hand and his eyes as he talks, and she nods when he pauses]

I'm right-handed, too. I...think I might go a bit crazy if I couldn't use it. I can't draw at all with my left.

[once the first layer is firmly in place, she reaches to place a tiny palm under one of his knuckles, gently pressing upward in a suggestion that he raise his hand]

What happened? Before you came here, I mean.

A... a shot was fired from shore.

[He obeys the silent command and raises his hand slightly.

It doesn't hurt to tell her. If William returns, he will. If he doesn't, Archie may well at some point.]

Exploding shell. Its fuse was still burning when it hit the deck of the Hotspur. If it went off... we were all dead.

There was nothing to lose.

[she'd ducked under his hand as he began to explain, pulling the bandages with her to wrap around to the other side, but she stops to look at him uncertainly when she reappears. Her tiny brow furrows as she tries to make sense of the unfamiliar terms.

A shot. A...bullet? Except that wouldn't have landed on the deck. Or, if it had, it wouldn't have been burning.

So a...canon ball. Or something like it. A bomb waiting to explode.

But how did that equal a burned-

Oh.

Oh.

Her eyes widen and, for just a moment, the bandages go slack.] Horatio...

With your hands?! [Admiration might come later, but her first reaction is one of horrified sympathy. Her hands were her life. And his hands...were they anything less?]

There was no other choice.

It was take that risk or have my entire ship destroyed.

[He frowns slightly.]

I would think most men would have run.

[she could understand that there was nowhere to go...but it didn't sound like a situation where reason was the ruler of the day]

The French to one side, set on killing us. The sea to the other. There was nowhere to go...

and that shell would have killed everyone on board.

[there's a pause where it seems like she might protest. She wants to say that, nowhere to go or not, either the enemy or the sea might have seemed like better options than a bomb on the verge of destruction. She wants to say that it would take a great deal of courage, choice or no. Or even that she doesn't believe there's ever a point where there's no choice at all. But she doesn't. Everything she's learned about him these past few months and the quiet insistence he makes at removing his own agency convince her to let it slide, silently acknowledged.

Instead, she reaches up to place her palm against his and gently pulls his hand back down to rest on the bookshelf so he can pull the bandage back around for the second pass.]

But it healed okay?

["Because of your bravery, sir. Bravery that should not go unacknowledged."

"Don't presume to tell me I was brave, Mr. Bush."

He was too short with his lieutenant, and he knew it. The man had meant no offence, but to call him brave when he had done the only thing possible to do...]

Still have a slight scar, but the burn itself healed.

[He moved his hand to assist.]

...Thank you. For the help.

That's good.

[injury to the hands. Her own hurt just thinking of it] That's really good.

[moving back around to return to the original side, working to pull the bandages smooth against his palm, she paused long enough to look up at him with a smile] Thank you for letting me.

[Horatio flexed his hand as much as he was able and nodded. Tight enough.]

We won't tell Archie about this.

[she nods, understanding] There's nothing to tell.

No need to worry him.

[she agrees, but there's just a hint of a knowing look with her answer]

I think he might worry anyway, Horatio. It's...kind of the trend of these shifts.

Well. I can at least try and minimize his worrying.

And I'll do what I can to help.

[she smooths a hand over the edge of the bandages] Is that enough? Will it stay?

It ought to. Thank you again, Miss Jilly.

[It seemed less strange, somehow, to surrender his hand to her care when she was so small. It would have taken far more convincing had she not been affected by the experiment... but he will not admit to that.]

[she hesitates...and then laughs, the sound unexpected and a little bright.]

I was going to say 'Anytime...' and I mean it...but here' hoping there won't be too many of those.

I shall certainly hope I do not often give cause for it.

...well, that'll have to do.

[luceti] - Appointments

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