Captain Horatio Hornblower (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
captainhornblower) wrote2012-04-02 12:03 pm
captainhornblower) wrote2012-04-02 12:03 pm
Thirteenth Dispatch - [written]
[Horatio Hornblower is never unaware of the date, but lately he has been able to note it without thinking about it.
He has been here nearly eleven months. If time does not stop as others claimed... He will have been declared dead, at best, or a deserter at worst. His wife will have given birth. He will have a two-month old child whose mother is sure it will never see its father.
Perhaps it's been subtly looking after Archie this last while that prompted such thoughts. Perhaps its the coming of Spring. Perhaps its the thought of sailing Britannia, feeling the wind in his face.
The last is the easiest thought.]
Monday, April 2nd
Weather permitting, training of the crew of Britannia will begin on Monday, April 9th, at two bells in the forenoon watch.
Nine o'clock in the morning.
The first lesson will be regarding the use of bells to keep time.
Two bells in the afternoon watch will mark the time for a crew meal.
At four bells in the afternoon watch, lessons will resume. They will last until four bells in the first dog watch.
Attendance this first day in mandatory, so Mister Kennedy and I may get a practical view of what is already known and what must be taught. Mister Kennedy will head the actual instruction for the most part, but I will be observing.
This will be only be cancelled for heavy rainfall and strong winds.
[It shouldn't even be cancelled for that, but... As Archie is always reminding him, these are pure volunteers, able to leave at any time.]
Mister Kennedy and I would welcome any further volunteers to Britannia for this beginning of intruction.
Hornblower
He has been here nearly eleven months. If time does not stop as others claimed... He will have been declared dead, at best, or a deserter at worst. His wife will have given birth. He will have a two-month old child whose mother is sure it will never see its father.
Perhaps it's been subtly looking after Archie this last while that prompted such thoughts. Perhaps its the coming of Spring. Perhaps its the thought of sailing Britannia, feeling the wind in his face.
The last is the easiest thought.]
Monday, April 2nd
Weather permitting, training of the crew of Britannia will begin on Monday, April 9th, at two bells in the forenoon watch.
Nine o'clock in the morning.
The first lesson will be regarding the use of bells to keep time.
Two bells in the afternoon watch will mark the time for a crew meal.
At four bells in the afternoon watch, lessons will resume. They will last until four bells in the first dog watch.
Attendance this first day in mandatory, so Mister Kennedy and I may get a practical view of what is already known and what must be taught. Mister Kennedy will head the actual instruction for the most part, but I will be observing.
This will be only be cancelled for heavy rainfall and strong winds.
[It shouldn't even be cancelled for that, but... As Archie is always reminding him, these are pure volunteers, able to leave at any time.]
Mister Kennedy and I would welcome any further volunteers to Britannia for this beginning of intruction.
Hornblower
[written]
The handwriting that accompanies it, though, is entirely unfamiliar. Her notes have always been legible, but sometimes that was the best that could be said for it. Her care with form always seemed to be carefully reserved for her art.
Now, though, the letters are clear and (if somewhat rushed) neatly formed. It could have been a change wrought by intensive practice...except it had only been a day since she'd written to Horatio last]
All work and no play, Captain Hornblower?
[written]
But the picture...
It's most certainly Jilly. So then why...]
But of course, Miss Jilly.
[written]
But without a filter, this was very nearly public...and while she might have been rather loose with social mores, Horatio never was. It's when the ink blots that she realizes she's taking too long to respond, and she jots another short note in that unfamiliar hand]
And if spring storms come to ruin your hard work? What then?
[written]
[It's a rote response. He's far more curious about the surprise in her face. If anything, she teases him more when he's proper. But she's never surprised.
What in God's name...]
[written]
[she's still a bit surprised, but it's fading quickly, a familiar smile pulling at her lips] And if you weren't to work in the rain, would you play then? Careful, or they might begin to realize that you know how to smile.
[written]
I cannot force them to come, so I have little choice but to make allowances for harsh weather.
[written]
Perhaps not. But force is hardly the only motivator. Perhaps they'll prove more dedicated than you fear.
[written]
[written]
[written]
[So. So. So strange. This? Will be asked about later.]