this is Horatio Hornblower fanfiction, not canon, not AU, M'man Roberts is my creation
WARNING: Mentions of past child abuse
Midshipman Roberts 1/3
Midshipman Roberts fell out of his hammock and curled on the deck of the midshipman's berth holding his stomach. When Andrews, a fellow midshipman on Indefatigable, had started his impersonation of Captain Pellew, he and his berth mates had stifled their laughs, throwing concerned glances toward the door. They were sure that they would be caught (and soundly punished) for engaging in such impudent behaviour. That was twenty minutes ago.
Roberts stomach was beginning to cramp he was laughing so much. Andrews, realising his audience was no longer paying him attention stopped his impressions and began laughing himself. That was fifteen minutes ago.
The laughing continued unabated all the way up until a less than polite cough came from their door. Well not actually from the door but from Lt Bracegirdle who did an impressive job of filling the frame, to very intimidating affect. Having his hammock slung furthest from the door, Roberts had the misfortune of being the last to notice their first Lt, and the last to regain his composure, so it did not shock him when Bracegirdle made a bee-line directly for him.
Standing to his most rigid attention after straightening his uniform up as best he could he felt the Lt's eyes rake over him. "The Captain's complements Mr Roberts. He will see you in his cabin immediately, if you please," Bracegirdle said brightly, smiling at him. Roberts had seen that smile before and all but ran from the room, barely remembering to salute his superior. As he hurried down the corridor he distinctly heard Lt Bracegirdle's bellow. "As for the rest of you, Mr Andrews, undoubtedly you can explain…"
Glad as he was to be granted leave from Bracegirdle's ire, it had not escaped Robert's attention that he was now heading for the Captain's cabin. The sensation was remarkable like being pulled out of the frying pan only to be thrown into the fire. Not that he was particularly afraid of Captain Pellew, well, no more than anyone else.
At least he could be fairly certain it was not because he had done anything wrong, his unfailingly logical mind reasoning that had he done anything seriously wrong he would have been immediately punished, and as for less serious mistakes he doubted that he would be chewed out for them later by the Captain.
He had been in the Royal Navy for a scant three weeks and always when above decks and often when below had someone looking over his shoulder, watching him like a hawk. Not that they were wrong to do so, Lord knows he had made enough mistakes, most through inexperience, others through lack of care but all swiftly pointed out and quickly rectified. The Captain would not waste his time to chew him out over such petty mistakes, most of which he figured the Captain knew nothing about anyway. That's what his logical mind was telling him. It was also telling him that he should erase any memory of Andrew's impersonations lest the sight of the Captain should elicit further laughter for if nothing else he didn't think his stomach capable of withstanding any more.
He had never actually made the trek from Midshipman's berth to the Captain's cabin before but was now discovering that it was quite long and probably one of the longest trips possible aboard a frigate. He momentarily wondered if that was by fate or by design. Right now all he knew was that it certainly gave a summoned Midshipman plenty of time to ponder exactly what his almighty Captain could possibly want with him.
If he wasn't in trouble, what did the Captain want? One does not receive promotion with three weeks service and one did not receive profuse praise from Captain Pellew, or so Lt Hornblower had told him. To be ignored apparently was high praise from Pellew but he had been told that during his first week whilst they lay in harbour when the Captain had often been required ashore for meetings at Admiralty. His disposition had not been so bleak since they had put to sea with most of the channel fleet but Roberts had heeded Hornblower's advice, attempting invisibility whenever the Captain appeared.
This had not been easy when Hornblower had decided to train him as the ships signalman. It seemed one of the simpler jobs on board a ship to Roberts but he was assured by Hornblower of its importance. He had made few mistakes and generally breezed through the duties. He had memorized the signal book in a couple of days and found it easy to read and send signals. Thinking about it, he wasn't sure if Hornblower was at all pleased with his progress or not, if anything he seemed embarrassed by it.
He had been unable to avoid the Captain, of course, being required to report all signals (of which there were plenty while they remained with the fleet). And the Captain certainly noticed him the time he had failed to sight the flagship signaling. Really the Captain had let him off lightly, far easier than his Father ever would have. And all of a sudden he was outside the Captains cabin.
For such a long journey he still found himself unprepared to face what was within. His logical mind in that moment decided to freeze. Forcing himself to breath he repeated over and over, "He is no worse than your Father. Show him respect. You will be fine. Treat him just like Father. You will be fine."
The marine knocked on the door and opened it for him, allowing him through and closing it behind him. The cabin was empty bar Captain Pellew who was hunched over his desk filling out what Roberts could only assume were the ships log. Unwilling to interrupt, Roberts stood silently to attention and managed to take in his surroundings.
Certainly not as luxurious as his Father's office or study, but then again this was a ship not an Estate house and twenty-four pound cannon was a hard fixture to decorate around. And it was certainly not as organized. There didn't appear to be much order to the paperwork spread over the desk and two side tables. This managed to surprise Roberts as it had been made patently clear in even his short tenure that Pellew expected absolute order and cleanliness about his ship. A groan from the Captain's chair as he sat back returned Roberts from his contemplation.
"Midshipman Michael Roberts, Sir. You sent for me, Sir," said Roberts, trying to appear confident, though he was doubted if he had convinced the Captain. "Just like Father, you will be fine." Later he would realize that this logic failed to calm him because he was rarely 'fine' when his Father was done with him.
"Indeed," Pellew agreed, eyeing the nervous boy, "Had a good day, have you?"
"Yes, Sir, today was a good day. Thank you, Sir."
Pellew raised an eyebrow at the response and continued, "Do you know why I wanted to see you, Mr Roberts?"
"Sorry, Sir, I honestly have no idea why you sent for me."
Pellew raised a second eyebrow. This boy had said more to him answering two questions than some of the other midshipmen have said to him in six months. Laying his quill down, Pellew folded his arms across his chest and asked, "So why do you think I want to see you?"
Having received sentence length answers to simple yes/no questions, Pellew fully expected no less than an essay by asking for an opinion but yet again the boy surprised him.
"I think that you would have new orders or duties you wish to assign me, Sir. At a guess, Sir."
And not particularly wishing Roberts to know that he was dead on with his guess and not fully understanding how he had guessed so accurately Pellew changed the subject.
"You've been aboard three weeks now. Have I even spoken to you in that time?"
Roberts coloured slightly, partly because his guess seemed to be correct judging by the Captains incongruous reply. His blush only deepened when he realised he must be frank and honest in his reply lest he be caught in a lie.
"Sir, I have given you cause to speak to me twice… ah… once, Sir." And dammit the blush deepened as he stuttered, it was all he could do not to look at his feet.
"Oh, really. When was this once-ah-twice, then?" Part of Pellew knew it to be a little cruel to ask a boy not yet fourteen to list his past mistakes to the man who could have him punished. 'Like standing before God and told to recount your sins', Bracegirdle would later describe it but he could hardly let such a shoddy answer pass.
Somehow the boy did not flinch nor did he hesitate, "A week and a half ago I failed to notice the flag ship signaling, Sir. You spoke to me then, Sir."
"So I did. But I do not recall a second occasion," Pellew said truthfully, though Roberts would hardly be inclined to believe it of the all seeing, all knowing Captain.
"My first week, Sir, Thursday, my behaviour was inappropriate upon your return from Admiralty. You shot me a glance, Sir, and I heard you loud and clear, though strictly speaking you did not say a word."
"Only a young lad would recall such an event", Pellew laughed to himself. After an entire day at Admiralty, he was pretty sure he gave every one he saw that glance. Still it took some sort of courage to calmly relate these incidents. Pellew stood and began to slowly pace behind his desk.
Most boys became more agitated and worried by Pellew's pacing and silence but not Roberts. Then again Robert's first thoughts weren't of his mistakes and possible punishments and, although predictably anxious, still manages coherent sentence answers. Something was telling Pellew it would be worth finding out why this one was so very different.
"Stand at your ease, Roberts. Who taught you to speak and answer the way you do?"
A little concerned with the latest change in topic, Robert's posture remained stiff, "My Father, Sir," he answered, hoping his voice was devoid of emotion.
"Why?"
"Sir, I was not in the habit of questioning my Father's orders," Robert's answered bluntly, deliberately using the word 'orders' in the hope to swing the conversation away from his family and how he ended up in the Navy.
"On the contrary, my boy, I think you question absolutely everything in your life, though quite possibly not aloud. You are, I believe, uncommonly smart and logical in your thinking. As such I think you know exactly where this conversation is going and what I wish to know," focusing his glare on him and confirming his own statements with a nod he continued, "So, what made you join the Navy, Mr Roberts? And why are you trying to avoid the topic of your family?"
Taking a deep breath, Roberts started, "My Father volunteered me, Sir. We do not see eye to eye but he is my Father so I have no right to criticize him," breathing again he finished quietly, "So I don't talk about it." His gaze fell to the deck.
"So you don't want to be in the Royal Navy?"
Roberts looked up quickly, snapping to attention, "Oh, but I do, Sir. More than anything."
"You are going to have to explain, Roberts."
"Sir, it's a long story. I don't want to waste your time with…" but Roberts didn't finish his protestation. "You are wasting my time with your excuses. Now, stand easy, Roberts and continue, if you please."
"My apologies, Sir." Roberts paused a moment to form the words and continued, "About three months ago I disobeyed my Father. I will admit it was quite deliberate and that I would do it again. However when my Father saw that I had no remorse even after his punishment he decided to send me away."
"Disobeyed how?" Pellew queried.
Meeting the Captains eye, Roberts silently begged not to have to answer. It truly was a long story and not one he wished to tell. Still the Captain did not relent but remained simply curious.
"My Father's rules were fairly comprehensive and centered on respect, Sir. Respect for him mostly. Specifically he required all his children to speak properly at all times - that is with full sentences and correct grammar. Apparently it was an insult to him if we did not and a waste of our education. When I spent summer with an Aunty in Scotland…"
"Surely you knew that your Aunt would talk to your Father about your behaviour, especially if it was somehow inappropriate," the Captain interrupted.
Roberts almost smiled at the Captains confidence in his intelligence. "Indeed, Sir. I knew but while I was in Scotland I stayed for a few weeks with family friends who had a son my age. And yes, Sir, I assumed that they also would eventually speak to my Father. But George, their son, and I went on a camping trip. We were days away from his home and came across a small town, no more than an Inn, really. We stopped and had a few drinks, Sir. Needless to say, we couldn't make a full sentence between us by the end of the night."
"So George told his family, then."
"No, Sir. That is just it. His family is Methodist. He would never have said a thing. The fact that they have not disowned him means that they still do not know. But the instant I walked into my home at the end of the summer my Father was yelling at me. He knew everything. I still do not know how, Sir."
Pellew was a Father and responsible for an entire ship of men and boys so made it his business to know everything that happens to his family and those under his command. Clearly Robert's Father had a similar philosophy though it seemed excessive to track him deep into the Scottish countryside.
"It would surprise you then that I know about Mr Andrew's precocious impression of yours truly?" Taking Roberts wide eyes and stunned silence as a 'yes' he continued, "You will understand some day. Please continue."
"Well, Sir, he punished me as usual but when I still didn't regret …"
"Punished how?" Pellew again interrupted, interested in anything that Roberts tried to gloss over. And he wanted 'as usual' explained. After almost a month Pellew had seen nothing in the boy he considered objectionable or requiring drastic modification (not that he ever really considered beatings as a means to achieve this but knew full well that others did). He didn't know yet whether Roberts would ever make a good seaman or a decent officer but he definitely knew he would get no trouble from him.
Robert's eyes turned stony and his voice suddenly detached, "He would tie me to my bed post, I suppose so the servants had not so far to carry me after he had beaten me senseless with his knotted cane."
Pellew was shocked by the apparent severity of punishment but more so by the sudden change in Roberts. The formerly open, bright young boy had closed off entirely. He wondered whether it was the look of cold defiance Roberts had in his eyes at this moment or the look of happiness and intelligence he had earlier for which his Father had despised him so much to treat him as he did.
Unbidden Roberts continued in an almost chilling voice, "Honestly the beating was not as bad as the one when I was five minutes late for dinner or the time I…" he trailed off, "And he saw it, too. In my eyes. He knew that he could have beaten me again and I wouldn't have cared. For all the petty things I had done, my Father had punished me so harshly that now I had truly disobeyed, he had nothing that would scare me anymore."
He seemed stuck at this point, too many images flashing past his eyes, "So…" Pellew prompted, quite unsure if he wanted to hear the answer.
"So he locked me in my room for six days without food or water," Roberts scoffed unimpressed, "One of the servants brought me some food on the second day but not surprisingly my Father found out and had the man flogged. Not that it stopped the others trying to give me food but, as he probably expected, I would no longer accept it."
"A cruel torture to be half starved and forced to refuse proffered food", he thought and still the boy continued even as Pellew moved around his desk to stand in front of him.
"It would seem he spent those days organizing my passage and place here, being sufficiently convinced I would suffer at your hands." Those hands reached up and gently squeezed Roberts's shoulders. The touch breaking the spell that seemed to cloud him and Pellew forced him to meet his eyes.
Roberts held the reassuring gaze quite unsure of its intent but was saved from speculation by a knock at the door. The Captain gave his shoulders a final squeeze before letting go and reclaiming his side of the desk, calling his permission for Lt Hornblower to enter.
"Right on time, Mr Hornblower," Pellew said as he looked out the windows, his back to the two officers. Roberts caught Hornblower's questioning glance that indicated he was no such thing as the Lt took up an easy stance next to him.
"Mr Roberts, Mr Hornblower tells me that you are sufficiently capable of the duties of signalman to undertake the position on your own. Would you concur?"
"I would concur with Lt Hornblower on this point, Sir," Roberts answered cheerfully, ignoring Hornblower's wide eyed surprise.
"Fine. Mr Roberts, you are now signalman. Mr Hornblower you now have time I believe to resume regular lessons with the Midshipmen?"
"Yes, Sir," Hornblower replied to the Captain's back while in fact looking to Roberts with an expressive look – 'This is how you supposed to answer the Captain' he silently advised.
"Speak with Mr Bracegirdle. Reorganise the rosters from tomorrow. That will be all." Hornblower turned and left and, on the off chance that he would be allowed to, Roberts made to follow him. "Not a chance, boy," the Captain said despite still not having turned around, "You still haven't answered my question."
It took Roberts a matter of seconds before he replied, "Why my Father thought to punish me by sending me exactly where I wanted to be, Sir?"
Pellew simply nodded amazed at Robert's infallible mind. He turned to face him again and was glad to see his bright Midshipman had returned.
"I am the eldest and only son, Sir. When I told my Mother three years ago that I was interested in the Navy she explained very calmly that Father would never approve of such a thing as military service is for younger and/or unwanted sons," Pellew's eyes flashed fire for an instant at the insult but let him continue, "It occurred to me, Sir, that I was not the son my Father wanted and that it was likely he would send me away sooner or later. It also occurred to me that in such a situation he would not send me where I wished to go. So for the last three years I have made sure at every possible occasion to extol the virtues of the Army – how noble, how brave, how good I would look in red."
Pellew allowed himself to laugh. It should have been obvious that the smart lad would outwit his Father. He was content to let Roberts past lay now he understood it and he had a feeling Roberts would like that too.
"Signalman Roberts, you see the signals 236, 478 and 826. What does it mean?"
He saw Robert's mind whirl. These signals had not been used in these past weeks and if he knew them it was from the book alone. In far less time than was decent for a thirteen year old boy he answered, "Do not show off, Sir," and flushed slightly at how his quick reply sounded but made no attempt to correct it.
"I'd suggest you take that advice, Mr Roberts. Two weeks is fast time to be given such responsibility but don't think everything you need to know you will be able to learn from a book. It took Mr Hornblower six weeks to convince me he could handle the signals alone but you should follow his example and you will do well by it."
Strangely enough his Lt had said much the same thing about the Captain a few days ago but instead of saying as much he decided to start following Hornblower's example.
"Yes, Sir," and with a simple hand gesture Roberts was dismissed.