I was cleaning out the files on my computer the other day, and I stumbled onto this story. It was written nearly a year ago, and I realized it was the first piece of fanfic that I ever wrote, along with my sister, Sun Queen. So I decided to post it here, at fanfic.net. I like to think that my writing skills have improved, but I still really love this fanfic (gosh, I'm modest, am I not?)

This fanfic was originally posted under the names Papillion and Lydia on the A&E Horatio Hornblower message board.




Bear with us, this fanfic is our very first story, we being Papillion and Lydia. It features all our favourite characters and takes place shortly after the events of "Retribution". Feedback is greatly appreciated. These characters are not liscenced by us, and belong to A&E and the descendants of C.S Forester. We are making no money from this work and are completely broke students, so call off the lawyers!

Chapter 1

He had no idea where he was.

The room in which Commander Horatio Hornblower had awakened was completely unfamilliar to him, small, spare and quite ugly, to tell the truth. He was lying on a hard bed, with a small table beside him, and a washstand and jug in the far corner, by the door. His perceptions were blurred, however, as though the room was filled with a dense fog. He tried to remember how he had gotten to this strange room, and where exactly he was. Not on board Retribution, certainly, but somewhere else...

The effort of trying to think clearly wrung a groan from him, and someone...yes! Someone who had been standing in the corner was now beside him. Recognition flooded Horatio's consciousness, banishing some of the fog in his brain. It was Commodore Pellew! But what the h*ll was his mentor doing here?

"Sir?" The effort of speaking drained worse than thinking had. Horatio wondered for a moment why he felt so weak...and why was Pellew looking so concerned? Yes, it was concern, and Pellew was doing his level best to hide it.

"Mister Hornblower, I suppose it is a...better sign to see you awake and alert." Pellew's deep voice brought Horatio back to full wakefulness. "Do you know where you are?"

Now he would have to admit to the commodore that he, a ship's captain, had no idea where he was or what had happened to him...wait, a memory was trying to surface...the battle?

Before he could answer, Pellew sighed, "You don't remember, do you, Mr.Hornblower?"

"No, sir," Horatio mummured faintly. He made an effort to sit up in his uncomfortable bed, and felt a horrible pain knifing through his shoulder, stopping his motion halfway. It was getting harder, to keep his eyes open, to stay alert. He finally gasped hesitantly, "A battle? Sir? French corvettes? His reserves of strengh momentarily exhausted, he fell back against the pillow.

"Yes, Mr. Hornblower, you were a week's sail from Plymouth, and were engaged by three French Corvettes. You managed to destroy one, and another turned tail and ran. You were pursued by the third. Do you remember now?"

"Yes, sir." His voice was getting weaker..."They boarded us...I was shot."

"You are in the hospital in Plymouth. You were shot, and the wound grew infected...doubtless had you had a better doctor on board Retribution, you wouln't be in this sorry mess..." Pellew's voice trailed off in disgust. "Engaging three French Corvettes in a sloop of war? What were you thinking?"

Horatio smiled. "They were 'small' corvettes, sir. We couldn't outrun them...I had no choice..."

He was feeling quite tired now, and the room was beginning to darken. A memory floated up, unbidden, of sitting by Clayton as he died..."Sir, is night falling?"

"Dam**t! Hornblower! Stay awake man! Stay awake!"

Pellew's reply was interrupted by the entrance of a grave, middle aged man. He stood in the doorway, and spoke in a soft, yet firm voice. "Commodore Pellew, sir, I must ask you to leave my patient now, you've had him talking long enough."

Sir Edward straightened. "Yes, Dr. Chesterson. I believe we've spoken enough for today, Commander," he said, addressing Horatio. Even Horatio, from his pain clouded eyes, could see the commodore's face. He looked old. Tired, and completely worn out. Horatio could never remember seeing such an expression cross the visage of his idol. 'What was going on', he wondered.

He lay back and closed his eyes, but could still hear the quiet voices of the commodore and the doctor, though they were beginning to blur.

"Dear God, he's passed out again!"

"That was to be expected, sir. You kept him talking far too long." Dr. Chesterson's voice held a tone of reproach.

"What now?"

"Sir, the fever...it's worse. The shot itself wouldn't have killed him, but the infection..."

"Don't prevaricate with me, man!" Pellew's voice was approaching that old bellow of his, and a smile almost tugged itself onto Horatio's lips. Almost, but not quite.

The doctor's tone was cold and formal, and his words were the last thing Horatio heard before the darkness closed around him once more.

"Barring divine intervention, sir, Commander Hornblower is going to die."