There had been a sailor
Apr. 8th, 2011 10:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
anteros_lmcTitle: There had been a sailor
Author: Anteros
Characters: Archie Kennedy, Hornblower, Matthews, Lt Bracegirdle
Rating: R
Notes: I wrote this snippet a while back, it might make it into a fic one day but who knows? It covers the same ground as![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eglantine_br's lovely recent fic As Beloved Sons; Archie and Horatio's return to Ferrol after being picked up by the Indy. I thought I'd post this by way of contrast because I love the way these stories can be told so many different ways.
He was back in his cell before he knew what was happening. The door closing behind him with the familiar heavy click. Archie lay on the low bunk and gazed into the darkness trying to order the chaos of the previous forty eight hours. His memories were lurid and disjointed, everything too loud and bright and sharp.
There had been so much noise. The waves and the storm, the men yelling, the dying crying for help. Somewhere in the midst of it all there had been a midshipman, someone he vaguely recognised, who had taken the tiller and held the boat steady, seen that the men were bailing. Someone who answered “Aye, aye, Sir” to Hornblower’s urgent commands. There had been rain and biting cold. A grey dawn and the impossible, improbable Indefatigable right there on the larboard bow.
He was on deck, a dry blanket round his shoulders, someone pushing a mug of hot grog into his hands. All he could think of was how strange the wooden deck felt rolling beneath his feet. More noise and bustle and people crowding round him. He couldn’t keep his balance so he sat down on the pitching deck. Matthews was in front of him, another larger figure behind. “Look Sir! It’s Mr Kennedy! We found Mr Kennedy, sir!” Lieutenant Bracegirdle was bending down and peering into his face. “Good Lord! Kennedy is that really you? We’d given you up for…”
Then he was below and there were more people. And then on deck again but this time he was standing, the men toeing the line behind him, the captain pacing in front. He could see Horatio out of the corner of his eye. His face was white. It was too bright, the light hurt his eyes. A voice was speaking, cracked and rusty. “Aye sir, Mr Hornblower’s word holds good for me.” It didn’t sound like his voice.
He was back in the boat again. There had been a night in between, maybe two. He couldn’t hear anything but he could feel the retort of the salute reverberating in his head. Hornblower was standing behind him at the tiller, swelling with pride. It was still too bright and he felt sick. He wanted out of the boat. If he pushed Hornblower over the gunwale, jumped overboard and swam for it, he might reach the shore. But he didn’t.
They were back at the fort. The Don was there, talking as if they were honoured guests. He still couldn’t hear properly. His head was buzzing and he wanted to be away, to be anywhere but in that courtyard. It was better in the cell, familiar and cool. He felt strangely relieved, elated, almost like coming home. But his head was still buzzing.
Now it was dark and the only buzzing was the comforting hum of the cicadas and mosquitos. Hornblower’s silhouette was rising and falling. His breath slow, deep and regular. Archie felt himself drifting.
There had been a sailor. Somewhere, out there in the noise and the chaos there had been a sailor.
Archie could still smell the familiar foreign tang of salt on skin as he slid into sleep.
Author: Anteros
Characters: Archie Kennedy, Hornblower, Matthews, Lt Bracegirdle
Rating: R
Notes: I wrote this snippet a while back, it might make it into a fic one day but who knows? It covers the same ground as
eglantine_br's lovely recent fic As Beloved Sons; Archie and Horatio's return to Ferrol after being picked up by the Indy. I thought I'd post this by way of contrast because I love the way these stories can be told so many different ways. He was back in his cell before he knew what was happening. The door closing behind him with the familiar heavy click. Archie lay on the low bunk and gazed into the darkness trying to order the chaos of the previous forty eight hours. His memories were lurid and disjointed, everything too loud and bright and sharp.
There had been so much noise. The waves and the storm, the men yelling, the dying crying for help. Somewhere in the midst of it all there had been a midshipman, someone he vaguely recognised, who had taken the tiller and held the boat steady, seen that the men were bailing. Someone who answered “Aye, aye, Sir” to Hornblower’s urgent commands. There had been rain and biting cold. A grey dawn and the impossible, improbable Indefatigable right there on the larboard bow.
He was on deck, a dry blanket round his shoulders, someone pushing a mug of hot grog into his hands. All he could think of was how strange the wooden deck felt rolling beneath his feet. More noise and bustle and people crowding round him. He couldn’t keep his balance so he sat down on the pitching deck. Matthews was in front of him, another larger figure behind. “Look Sir! It’s Mr Kennedy! We found Mr Kennedy, sir!” Lieutenant Bracegirdle was bending down and peering into his face. “Good Lord! Kennedy is that really you? We’d given you up for…”
Then he was below and there were more people. And then on deck again but this time he was standing, the men toeing the line behind him, the captain pacing in front. He could see Horatio out of the corner of his eye. His face was white. It was too bright, the light hurt his eyes. A voice was speaking, cracked and rusty. “Aye sir, Mr Hornblower’s word holds good for me.” It didn’t sound like his voice.
He was back in the boat again. There had been a night in between, maybe two. He couldn’t hear anything but he could feel the retort of the salute reverberating in his head. Hornblower was standing behind him at the tiller, swelling with pride. It was still too bright and he felt sick. He wanted out of the boat. If he pushed Hornblower over the gunwale, jumped overboard and swam for it, he might reach the shore. But he didn’t.
They were back at the fort. The Don was there, talking as if they were honoured guests. He still couldn’t hear properly. His head was buzzing and he wanted to be away, to be anywhere but in that courtyard. It was better in the cell, familiar and cool. He felt strangely relieved, elated, almost like coming home. But his head was still buzzing.
Now it was dark and the only buzzing was the comforting hum of the cicadas and mosquitos. Hornblower’s silhouette was rising and falling. His breath slow, deep and regular. Archie felt himself drifting.
There had been a sailor. Somewhere, out there in the noise and the chaos there had been a sailor.
Archie could still smell the familiar foreign tang of salt on skin as he slid into sleep.
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no subject
Date: 2011-04-08 09:44 pm (UTC)Archie is one of those people who do everything right, when its emergency time. He can get right down into the blood and the beer, he is only shaky later. I love him for that quality. And this piece of writing shows it well.
Also it is beautiful. I really like the way you divided into little pieces to reflect his disjointed thoughts.
And it hurts to read. Because Archie is still so hurt that even good things cause him pain. And that is real.
So glad you posted this.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-08 10:22 pm (UTC)That's a very true. I think one of the things that links Archie and Horatio is that neither of them can see their own courage. And despite everything, Archie never does realise how brave he is. Not even at the end :/
Because Archie is still so hurt that even good things cause him pain. And that is real.
Defintiely. That reality really gets to the heart of Archie's character and why some people identify with him so strongly.
Glad you enjoyed this and thanks for the encouragement to post, otherwise this might have sat in my drafts folder till doomsday!
no subject
Date: 2011-04-08 10:28 pm (UTC)like the confusion of this - and the hints Archie identifies of the fact that he had emerged the stronger
the boys do not know their own courage - but is that not often the case ? People identify others bravery - the things they could never do - but they paly down their own because it seems part of them.
love brave Archie - his face - tired during the salute in your icon - but then his radiant blissed out face on return to ferrol
don't think that was an unhappy time at all once they were there - at least I think there was - for once - beginning to be as much sunlight as shadow for Archie, deppite there still being things to say
well done Eglantine for bringing this to the light of day
no subject
Date: 2011-04-08 11:20 pm (UTC)People identify others bravery
Very true, and all the more so in Archie's case I think. Again, it's what makes him so human.
love brave Archie - his face - tired during the salute in your icon
I love the whole range of emotions that flit over his face in that scene. I think it's one of the most touching scenes in the entire series.
I think there was - for once - beginning to be as much sunlight as shadow for Archie,
Yes, you are right and what a lovely way to put it!
no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 02:04 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 10:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 01:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 04:42 pm (UTC)The disjointedness of his thoughts, the confusion and chaos, and the detachment during the storm even while he's in action again, all come across so well in those brief moments. I love how much is said in such a short piece.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 08:41 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 09:56 pm (UTC)For once I will restrain myself from making a filthy comment and attempt to answer sensibly!
I suspect that to some extent Archie has become institutionalised. It's quite clear that by the time Horatio finds him his spirit has been all but broken and he has lost what little faith he had in his own abilities. If he also expects to be disciplined or discharged on his return to the service it's likely be a powerful driver to retreat to the familiar oblivion of prison.
no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 10:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-09 10:08 pm (UTC)I probably spend far too much time there!
It must have been so bewildering for Archie. All those months alone in prison and then suddenly he's back at sea, on the Indy, with his old crew mates and then before he can blink he's back in prison again. No wonder he looked traumatised!
I'm glad you thought this worked, I had intended it to be the start of a fic that never got written and I wouldn't have thought of posting it if
no subject
Date: 2011-04-10 12:36 am (UTC)No such thing! ... although admittedly it's not always a happy place ... but it makes for good reading!
No wonder he looked traumatised!
I always thought having cannons fired at close proximity after that ordeal wouldn't help either!
no subject
Date: 2011-04-10 01:56 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-10 08:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-04-10 08:04 pm (UTC)I certain hope so! Good reading I mean, not an unhappy place :}
I always thought having cannons fired at close proximity after that ordeal wouldn't help either!
Definitely. Archie's reactions in this scene are painful to watch but terribly realistic. Poor lad.