A/N: Takes place after "Where Home Is", but that isn't required reading. Enjoy!
Tintin & Captain Archibald Haddock - The Space Between Ancestors and Descendants
"The last of the Haddocks."
The words echo distantly in Tintin's mind as he looks at the crest over the ancient doors. It has been a long time since he bothered to really look at it, the oval-shaped image of a haddock under a crown that has been on the front of Marlinspike Hall since the château was built.
He remembers what he learned of sigilography from Professor Alembick's pamphlet, and from the man himself after he had rescued the hapless old fellow from the Syldavian traitors. The seal of the Haddock family is a sign of their noble blood, with the fish representing them, of course, and the crown their service to the King. Tintin thinks of Sir Francis Haddock, whose face still stares solemnly from a portrait hanging inside the château. The seal was made for him, after all, and there is all kinds of circumstance and history that's attached to that, meanings for the seal and its uses and so on and so forth.
But Tintin's mind doesn't stay there. It stays with those words that feel suddenly very sad to him. The last of the Haddocks, his Captain. His family all gone.
The journalist does not know what it's like to lose everyone that way because he never had a family, never had parents or good friends. He has hidden-away memories of a boys' home, with a lot of kids who didn't care about him, and nuns who meant well but didn't have time for any one child. There was one little red-headed boy that liked to follow him around back in those days, but he barely remembers him. And until he'd met Chang, that was the closest Tintin ever got to having a friend. He'd never even really talked to the boy.
But the Captain, he knows what it's like, remembers both his parents, his grandparents, the last few before he was the only remaining member of his family. On this thought, Tintin feels a strange, sudden pang of guilt, and hurries through the doors of Marlinspike Hall. The old Haddock estate. The Captain's inheritance. His home, and Tintin's home.
Tintin isn't able to put his thoughts into words right then, but as the afternoon turns to evening, he can't stop thinking about the seal and the noble family name and all the history attached to it, and the Captain's feelings about his heritage and all these other things that leave his head muddled. He even goes into Marlinspike's great library and finds a book on the Haddock lineage. It isn't recent enough to include Archibald Haddock. It stops at a man Tintin thinks might be the sailor's grandfather, though the man is very young in the picture.
But the book doesn't really answer any questions or quell his thoughts. Usually, reading or doing research calms Tintin's nerves. Not this time.
"Something bothering you, lad?" Captain Haddock asks.
Tintin, now in the sitting room flipping distractedly through a book of Russian poetry, is startled by the question, but he supposes there was no way the Captain wouldn't notice, wouldn't ask. After all this time, all these adventures, he can read him like a book. And Tintin knows it.
"Oh, it's just..." Tintin pauses and considers how to make his thoughts into a question. Finally, putting down his book, he goes on. "The Haddocks have always been a very proud line, haven't they?"
The Captain raises his eyebrows. "Aye, that we have. But what's brought this on, Tintin?"
"It's just..." Tintin winces as he realized he's repeated himself, and the fact that he's so unsure is just embarrassing. He forges ahead, mostly out of frustration. "I have been thinking about it most of the afternoon, and I hate the idea that you would have to be the last. I feel... I don't know, selfish."
"Selfish?" Haddock exclaims, taken aback. "Tintin, I'm surprised at you!"
"What?" Tintin hadn't really expected this reaction.
The Captain stands up, rising to his full impressive height, and puts his hands on his hips. "Tintin, d'you honestly think that I'm with you out of some sort of obligation? I'm hurt! I'm not even sure who you must think less of, me or yourself?"
"That's not what I mean at all!" Tintin protests. He doesn't stand to meet the Captain's challenge, though. He stays sitting, looking up at the much larger man. "I've seen how much you care about me! You've shown me again and again, even when I was too blind to see it. But there's a part of me that feels that you... perhaps it would have been better if you'd fallen for someone else, someone who could help you to continue your name."
"Pah! Nonsense, Tintin." Haddock scoffs. "Utter poppycock. You don't think I really care about all that pomp and circumstance, do you? What do I need heirs and a name for when I've got you to look after? And I've got to look out for ol' Cuthbert, and Snowy, my cat, those idiot detectives, Skut often enough, plus your chum Chang- and that bratty Abdullah. And I don't know how I'd deal with kids with that blithering Wagg around, stopping in whenever he feels like it. Seems like my plate's full enough to me, wouldn't you agree? And anyway, who would I ever marry? That dreadful harpy Castafiore? Not on your life!"
Tintin watches him intently, his lips parted open in awe. He doesn't respond right away when the Captain finishes, either, but hesitates. His worries aren't quite satisfied yet, but he really feels touched by Haddock's words. No one ever cared about him the way this man does. No one else ever would.
"Thank you, Captain," Tintin says with a soft smile.
"So then, what brought this on, anyhow?" Captain Haddock asks again.
Tintin sighs. "I was looking at the crest over the door when I got back this afternoon, and I remembered how important your heritage is to you. It's been weighing on my mind since then, that I cannot give you any children, and I... I don't even have a family name to offer. It seems almost a shame that someone of such noble lineage finds himself with such a- such a mongrel."
"You hold your tongue!" Haddock cries, deeply offended. He stamps over to Tintin and stands over him. "Don't you dare talk about my Tintin that way. I've known from the start who you are and what you stand for, and it isn't as though I never knew that two men can't have children. Why are you placing such importance on foolish things like names and lineage? It isn't like you! It doesn't make any sense."
"Because you were so proud of your ancestor, and your name." Tintin admits slowly, his voice uncharacteristically quiet. "And I don't have either of those things. I wouldn't say that I'm envious, no, I couldn't be, but..." He sighs. "The surname I was born to, it was meaningless. I think they just assigned it to me at the orphanage, got it off a bottle of wine or something. And now there's a part of me that's concerned about where all these things fit together."
"Well, you shouldn't be." Haddock says matter-of-factly. "Tintin, I have never been one for the fairer sex. You didn't turn me or whatever you seem to have in that ginger head of yours. And so you don't have a lineage like I do. What of it? You've got all these folks who care about you- didn't we show you that when we celebrated your birthday?"
Here the Captain takes Tintin's face in his hands and kneels in front of him, his expression softened, his dark blue eyes warm and filled with love. "Now listen. I may be proud of my family and my ancestor, but I'm more proud of you, do you realize that? And can you really say that you have no family or name when you live here in Marlinspike? Couldn't you consider yourself to be a Haddock just the same?"
Tintin chuckles softly, feeling his cheeks turn very hot and certainly very red. His eyes sting and he just barely realizes that he's moved to the verge of tears. "Captain, are you proposing to me?"
At first Haddock seems surprised by the question, but all at once he smiles with a profound warmth. "Well- well yes, yes I am."
"B-but we can't-" Tintin tries to protest, the first delicate tears escaping down his cheek.
"Certainly we can." Haddock interrupts, wiping Tintin's cheeks with his thumbs. "We'll just ahave to do it in our own way. But Tintin, would you do me that honor? Would you want to tie yourself to this old seadog? Would you want to be a Haddock yourself?"
Tintin can't hold the tears back at all. "Oh, Captain, of course I would! You don't even need to ask. Obviously I've already tied myself to you. There is no one in the world I'd rather be with, surely you know that, I was only concerned about you! I just, that is, I want you to be happy."
"This would certainly make me happy." Captain Haddock says softly.
Tintin is left breathless. Everything about this moment is so significant and so meaningful to him. To know how much the Captain cares for him, to be invited to take his name, that great name, and make it his own. What does he do now, what should he say?
Tintin grabs the fabric of Haddock's shirt over his shoulders and abruptly pulls him to himself, demonstrating all that hidden strength of his. And he kisses him hard, displaying all those feelings that are so hard to express with words, even for a journalist. Even for Tintin.
He's pleased to feel Haddock's great strong arms around him, holding him. Perhaps it won't be official, in the eyes of the law or whatever powers be, but he will still, in his heart, call him his husband. Perhaps they will have a ceremony, a great, beautiful, private affair in Marlinspike's sprawling green park, with their friends in attendance, that family they have made for themselves that both were lacking. And he can have his name changed, and he will.
Tintin Haddock.
He rather likes the sound of it.