Boring A/Notes! Skip! Skip!
This is a mere idea- a sentence- I found amongst a pile of overdue homework on my desk in my bedroom. I was feeling particularly distressed by the thought that I'd never see my friend- you may know her as What-is-That, or Blue Horizon- after she moved to her farm in the country, and wrote it to reassure myself that our friendship is strong enough to persist
It's just a bit of mindless fluff, which is not really significantly connected to my other fics, and isn't that organised or, er, good. But, ah, well; fluff is my life.
So, Breela, this is pour vous. If Horatio and Archie's friendship can survive beyond the binds of mortality, then I reckon ours can persevere despite the two-hour drive…
-Keli Lou-Ellis
Beyond Death.
In his last moments, on earth, Archie pressed a letter into Horatio's hand, mystified, the soon-to-be captain tucked it into his jacket and forgot about it until two weeks later, on the Retribution, when he placed the coat on the back of his chair, and the letter fluttered out.
Immediately, Horatio felt guilty. While he had by no means forgotten about Archie, the new captain had pushed his fallen friend to the back of his mind since his promotion to captaincy.
'Already. You've already forgotten his memory, forgotten his sacrifice.' He brooded miserably.
Horatio picked up the letter cautiously. It was quite heavy, and appeared to have a circular object inside it.
He broke the seal and pulled out the letter inside, placing the envelope and the item inside on his desk.
My dear friend Horatio, it read,
When you read this, I shall be dead and dishonoured.
I would have liked to tell you what you are reading now in person, but as my time here is limited, I wrote it down in the hope that you would understand why I did this.
All those years ago, on the Justinian, when you first encountered me, I was a broken man, despite my veneer of nonchalance. After many years of torment, I became introverted and antisocial. A far cry from my younger years, when I was an impudent, outgoing boy who spent too much time in the theatre with the chorus girls.
However, when you came to the Justinian, you restored my hope, and my sense of humour. You were the proverbial David to the Goliath that was my despair, and the day you fought back against the manifestation of my afore-mentioned despondency was the day I broke free of the restraints placed upon me by that ship, and the man who mercilessly destroyed my faith in life and my trust in mankind.
Effectively, my friend, you saved my life.
From that day, you continued to unknowingly strengthen me with your mere presence. You saved me from myself in El Ferrol, and since then you have saved me many times, in smaller ways.
I must tell you, I do not begrudge you your success, for it is your success which forced me to look at myself, at my attitude towards life and make many changes.
I cannot thank you enough. Because of you, my life began to have meaning and I fought for a reason.
The small sacrifice I make now means nothing compared to the years of gratification I received from you.
In this letter I have enclosed a pocket watch. It is not likely it will work while you are at sea, but it is an heirloom my family have been dying to get their hands on. I wish for you to have it to remind you of our friendship.
Yours has been the most significant bond I have ever had, and once again I thank you for that gift.
I pass this watch on in the hope that you shall always remember this:
You are truly a hero; you both shame and inspire broken men. Your presence motivates your subordinates to do great deeds, and put to shame your superiors, without ever losing your tenacious sense of honour, and obstinate attitude to a challenge. Never forget: you are a hero.
I apologise for my sentimental, affected writing, friend, but I've always found it easiest to communicate emotions as if I were on stage...
Horatio brusquely wiped the back of his hand across his eyes, furious with himself for getting emotional now, weeks after Archie's death.
He blinked twice, and picked up the envelope, carefully taking out Archie's heirloom.
It was beautiful. Silver, inset with precious jewels, mostly emerald and ruby, the Kennedy crest colours. The pocket watch was emitting a faint ticking. On the front, surrounded by clusters of tiny emeralds was the Kennedy crest, and, flipping it open, Horatio found that the timepiece itself was sparkling brilliantly with silver and stones. On the lid, there was an engraving, and Horatio was surprised to see it had the word:
Hero,
With a miniscule engraving of a sword and a glass, crossed over a frigate.
It had been engraved for him. That meant Archie must have known he was going to pass it on to Horatio, must have known there was a good chance he'd die quite soon.
Horatio shut the watch with a click and clipped it to the inside of his jacket, swung on his overcoat, placed on his hat, and made for the deck.
"How are you faring, sir?" asked William Bush in a low voice. Somehow, he had known how hard the last few weeks had been on Horatio.
The Retribution's captain smiled, and patted his pocket, where the watch resided,
"I am well, Mr. Bush." Bush nodded, saluted and walked off, "Now I have someone to watch over me."
Still smiling, Horatio turned to the silhouette of London in the evening sun.
Yes, well.
As Archie put it: Affected... and sentimental. Oh dear.