A/N: This is an idea that has brewing in my mind for a while now. This is a story about the Captain that explores his past starting from his naval academy days to the events of TSOM. It will capture his growth from an awkward adolescent to man, to a naval hero, husband, father, and finally a widower. The story will be told from the Captain's perspective. The title the Captain's Eyes sounds a bit clique but who can't look at those gorgeous eyes and wonder.
I haven't abandoned my other work; The Ostrich (the next chapter is being Betad) and I have a few more in the works!
As always I'm still relatively new to writing. My biggest challenge is picking a tense and sticking to it. This story will be in present tense unless there is a situation where the Captain reminisces and I switch to past. It is a bit of a challenge for me, but I do try to stay true to the tenses. Please feel free to comment with tips and suggestions.
The Captain's Eyes
"Hold your arm closer to your body Master Georg" my fencing instructor James says.
James is a fencing guru hired by my parents to teach me the sport, he is an Englishman, hence the name, the British accent, and the habit of calling me Master Georg. James has been my instructor for years and while he is an Englishman, we communicate well because as a son of a Viennese aristocrat I am schooled in four languages: German, Hungarian, French, and of course English- all part of a proper gentleman's education.
I attend the most prestigious secondary school in Vienna. The school year had just ended and I am on my summer holiday, but unlike many of my classmates I do not mind school as I enjoy reading and mathematics immensely, and find my assignments less daunting and tiresome then having to interact with others my age. I am not anti-social; I am just quiet and reserved. Still my standing in society, even at the age of thirteen, forces me to be an eloquent speaker, display fine manners, and up keep the family name. And now being the only child the burden falls on me alone.
I often wonder if Fritz were still alive, things would be easier. My older brother has been dead for six months, killed in an "unfortunate accident" as people say. And while no one out right blames me for his death, in my eyes (and probably others) I am to blame.
The weather was cold and Fritz and I where amusing our selves by a lake on the outskirts of the city. Fritz and I always shared daring natures if not reckless, and soon we were both walking across the frozen lake. Unbeknown the ice was not formed enough to beer Fritz's weight and it cracked beneath his feet and sent him plunging into the icy waters.
I jumped in the water and tried to reach is flailing body, but it was no use. An old farmer who witnessed what happened tried to help us, but it was no use. The rest of what occurred became a swirl of memories buried deep in my unconsciousness; as I was there but not present in enough in mind, probably due to hypothermia and hysteria, to recall all the details. But it didn't matter, because in the end my brother was dead.
Everyone told me it was accident, but I was there when it happened. Had I paid more attention, had I been stronger, had I been quicker, maybe I could have stopped Fritz from dying. Maybe?
Since his death, my life at home has been unbearable. Father and mother still grieve over the loss of their son, their golden boy. He was four years older than I, and in my parents' eyes perfect in every way. He was intelligent, athletic, buoyant, and quite the ladies man. Everyone who met him liked him, he possessed a breezy air that made everyone that was around him feel at ease. I idolized him.
"Good job Master Georg, you are really are quite a natural at the sport" James gushes bringing my thoughts back to the present. James tends to be overly enthusiastic in his praise of me, calling me a natural and claiming I "have grace". While I appreciate his praise, at the age of thirteen I would prefer strength, and more importantly height- than grace.
It is times like these that I wish Fritz were alive. Ever since his death I feel terribly lonely at home, and I wish I had someone to talk to about my lack of height and how different I look compared to other boys my age. Some boys in my class have begun shaving and others are foot taller than me. And while from reading books I understand the science behind puberty, and that my time to grow will come too, I do wish I had an older brother to speak to. Mother definitely did not understand my problem when I tired to discuss it with her. She coddled me and called me her baby and became annoyingly weepy, while she bemoaned the fact that "I'm growing up too fast". I never spoke the matter with her again. And Father, Father is defiantly not someone I can come to, or speak with, especially not after Fritz's death.
Father never says it, but I am sure he is disappointed with me. Sometimes on dark nights I lay awake and wonder, does he wish it were me who died instead of Fritz? Does he care for me anymore? Is my only use to him being the sole heir to the family name?
James and I conclude our fencing lessons and I precede upstairs to my chambers to wash and prepare for dinner. We live in a comfortable mansion in an upscale area in Vienna. The house is quite large, but it does not have extensive grounds like other mansions outside the city have.
I enter my chambers, which consist of a bedroom, dressing room, bathroom, and a balcony overlooking a small garden. I quickly remove my fencing equipment, take a quick shower, dress, and comb my hair in record time.
I am the first to come down for dinner. I take my place at the table and wait. The meal is quiet, and I can sense some tension between my parents, but I choose to ignore it-dinner is exceptionally good and I am famished. But the poignant looks that are exchanged between my parents should be my first warning that something is amiss. If I were not so involved with eating my dinner, I wouldn't have be shocked, when Father clears his throat and requests that I come to his study.
I follow Father into his study-a room I hardly enter-and he motions me to sit down in a chair facing his desk. He first sits down at his desk, but then quickly stands holding a telegram in his hand.
"I received a telegram from an old friend of mine in Fiume. He has offered you a position in the naval academy there. Your mother and I discussed it and we feel it would be in your best interest to join the academy". He says this in quite matter of fact way. He isn't asking me if I want to join the navy, he is telling me that I am joining the navy.
"The new recruits are coming to Fiume on Monday, I really think this will be good for you Georg"
Father waits for me to respond.
"Yes sir" I manage to stutter.
"It will be tremendous experience"
"Yes sir"
"You'll learn so much"
I force a smile. And he pats me lightly on the back. I bid him good night and sprint up the stairs to my room, where I plop on my bed, facedown.
Mother comes in to my room a few minutes later as I sulk on my bed. She sits on the edge of my bed and gently ruffles my hair and rubs my back. With soft words she tries to coax me to raise my head and talk with her. But I do not want to, although her gentle hand on my back feels good, I am too angry to speak with her.
My parents are sending me away.
Any doubts I have about Father's affection for me are cemented. He does not love me, he is sending me away. But what of Mother? Who supposedly loves me, why did she agree? Against my will I feel my eyes burning and tears begin to fall. I feel so hurt, so betrayed.
I usually would have scoffed at such attention, feeling very foolish and babyish. I barely like being hugged. But with the knowledge that I am leaving in few days, I suddenly crave my mother's embrace. Mother takes me in her arms and holds me as I cry. I don't only cry for leaving home, I am crying for my dead brother too. Mother senses I am crying for Fritz. Six months ago, wrapped in her own grief for the death of her son, she wasn't able to comfort me. I understood her grief and I never asked for comfort from her or anyone else then. And as I blamed myself, I did not feel I had the right to ask for it.
"Georg daring, it will be alright. We'll write you letters, send telegrams, and you'll come back for the holidays, you'll see it will be alright"
"Okay" I am unsure if she was trying to convince herself, or me; but I listen to her, and for her sake, I wipe my face dry with the edge of my sleeve.
She smiles at me; her blue eyes are filled with understanding "let me show you something". She rises from the bed and leads me to the balcony "look at the moon darling". It is full and bright in the dark sky. "Where ever you are in the world, where ever I am, we will always share the same moon." She pulls me into a tight embrace "whenever, you miss home, look to the moon, I promise I will be looking at it too".
She kisses me lightly on the forehead before leaving me alone on the balcony wrapped in my own thoughts. I lean against the railing on the balcony. Despite the summer heat, there is a breeze in the air. I listen to the sounds around me, the house is quieting down, and Father and Mother have probably retired to their bedroom for night. But I suddenly find the air around me oppressive. Maybe it is the heat, or my fears, or maybe I am sensing that my life is about to dramatically change. But there is someone I have to see; I cannot leave without saying goodbye to her.
I grab onto the branch hanging over the balcony and let myself down landing on my feet with a soft thud. I then climb over the gates and make my way down the familiar path to Samantha's house.
Samantha Gisele is a fifteen-year-old girl who goes to my school. Although the boys' and girls' classes are housed in different buildings, they share the same grounds. Some of the boys try to talk to the girls, Fritz always did. Whenever he passed, there was always a group of giggling girls who waited to talk and flirt with him. Some of the girls would notice me, and tell me I had nice eyes and I was cute. I would prefer handsome than cute, but I guess when you're short and have nice eyes, you are classified as cute. I really couldn't complain, because back then, I was simply happy to even be noticed by a girl.
But after Fritz died, I went into my own little shell deeper than ever before. I distanced myself from my classmates and girls. Till I met Samantha Giesler three months ago.
I was walking on the grounds immersed in my own thoughts when I bumped into Samantha –literally-our books went flying in the air.
"Watch where you going!" I said irritably.
"You watch where going, shorty!"
"Don't' call me that!"
"Well, you are short" she replied.
"Well you're so…you're so…" I looked for a retort "well you're so tall!" I finished lamely.
She laughed. It was an amused laugh and her voice was musical. It wasn't the type of laugh meant to ridicule, but a sincere laugh. She thought I was funny. I looked at her and noticed not only how tall she was, but also how pretty she was. She looked gorgeous, in her simple uniform: A pristine white shirt, a blue and gold tie, a midnight blue blazer with the school's coat of arms, and a matching short pleated skirt which unintentionally drew attention to her long slender legs.
"You're staring at me"
" Uh, oh sorry" I stammered. Highly embarrassed for getting caught looking at her.
"What's your name?"
"Georg"
"I'm Samantha"
"Nice to meet you I managed" I remembered my self, and I quickly gathered her books and handed them to her.
"Thanks"
"Sorry for bumping into you"
"No problem," she shrugged. "I'll see you around Georgiana"
From that day on we became friends. While I don't appreciate being called Georgiana, Samantha has the sense to only call me it in private. I enjoy her company and I have grown rather fond of her, although I know she views me more as a friend than a romantic interest. Still my social and family life being the mess it is, I appreciate her friendship, and that is why I am aiming pebbles at her window late at night -in hope to get her attention.
When the third pebble hits her window, she appears.
"What's up?" she asks. I love that she is always so cool headed, as if it is perfectly normal to have a someone throwing pebbles at her window at all hours of the night.
"Can I talk to you?" I ask, trying to hide the urgency in my voice. She nods and disappears from view. I wait for her by our meeting place under the tree
"What is it Georgiana"
"I'm going to Fiume" I blurt out.
"What is that?"
"It's a naval academy on the coast of the Adriatic sea"
"When are you going"?
"Tomorrow or the day after".
Before I can help my self, I tell her how I feel about the matter, my feelings of rejection, and my fears. She is sympathetic and listens well. But she doesn't try assuaging my fears and telling me everything will be all right. She is honest with me like always and I am thankful for her candidness. She doesn't promise me that she'll write and that we'll keep in touch, because she knows that she wouldn't be able to keep her promise. But she does say, that she'd like me to stop by and say hello when I come back to Vienna for the holidays.
She tells me that it may be hard, but eventually I'll be very successful there. I am skeptical, but she tells me that I should trust her because she "very good at knowing these types of things" I tell her I will try.
"Good Luck, I'll miss you Georgiana"
"Good bye Samantha" It isn't easy for me to express my feelings, but I am leaving so soon and want Samantha to know how much her friendship means to me, so I say: "Thank you for listening and being such a good friend for last few months."
She must be touched by my honesty because she does something I never thought she would do. She kisses me. Out of the blue she kisses me. It is short and sweet; her lips are soft and warm on mine. I feel suddenly very hot and I don't know how to react or what to make of my first kiss. All I am aware of is my face flushing, no doubt turning redder than a tomato.
A girl has kissed me.
"I bet they won't teach you that in the Imperial Navy"
A girl has kissed me. I don't care what they will teach me in the Imperial Navy, or of my distant father, or being the smallest boy in the class. All my worries suddenly disappear. Tonight I am on cloud nine.
A girl has finally kissed me.