I decided that a story needed about the Officers needed to have a POV of an Officer in it! Every two chapters of Annastasia's POV will be followed by one of Murdoch's.
Disclaimer: I do not own Murdoch, Smith, Rose, Jack or any of them. If I did, Murdoch wouldn't have killed himself in the movie. He would have worked valiently until the end like the real Murdoch did.
When Smith had first brought Wilde onboard, I had hated him. Being demoted from Chief Officer to First had stung me raw. Then he had given me another blow when I would not even be able to stand in the Bridge for the first part of Titanic's maiden voyage. I had to help passengers aboard the ship. That's a job for a steward, not a highly qualified officer like myself! But, Smith is the Captain and I have to obey him. Bloody, Wilde.
Perhaps I should introduce myself first off. William McMaster Murdoch, First Officer of the R.M.S Titanic. I've served with the White Star Line for most of my life, working on many of their ships. I've been on the Medic, Runic, Arabic, Celtic, Germanic, Oceanic, Cedric, Adriatic, and I was on the Olympic. White Star Line has a tradition of each of their ships having the '-ic' ending. Cunard, their rivals, ends their names with '-ia'. Titanic would be and is now the greatest of the White Star Line fleet. Heralded as practically unsinkable, due to a double hull and watertight bulkheads, she has the newest of everything, technology and safety features. The papers though have called her just 'unsinkable', a bad omen if you're incredibly superstitious.
"Welcome aboard Titanic." I repeated numerous times, bowing my head every time to the passengers as they boarded. A rather haughty older woman walked by with a portly gentleman on her arm. A younger woman, their daughter I suspect, walked behind them. She was turning her head everywhere and trying to take it all in. Her periwinkle dress swirled around her as she stepped even closer. She set her foot down, but wasn't aware of the gap and gave a little cry as she fell. I reached out, breaking all protocol, and grabbed her arms.
"Watch your step here, miss." I cautioned, helping her back to her feet. She seemed a little shaken but smiled when she saw me.
"Oh, why thank you sir." She said kindly, looking away. It was as if she was unwilling to meet my eyes. "You are quite strong."
"It was nothing, miss. Welcome aboard Titanic." I replied, letting go of her arms. I looked over as another woman entered our conversation. It was the haughty woman from earlier. She glared at me but didn't give her daughter; at least I assume she was her daughter, a second glance. The girl hunched her shoulders and bit her lower lip.
"Why thank you young man, it would have been a tragedy for my daughter to fall as she entered the ship." Her voice carried the condescending tone that many first-class passengers had. I amused myself by rubbing my hands together to get them warm. "What is your name?"
"My name?"
"Of course your name, that way we might send you a small gift for doing what you did." Her voice was as sickly sweet as honey but when she turned to look at their daughter, the true anger came out.
"First Officer Will Murdoch, m'am." I recited it by memorization, something that every officer and crewman on a White Star Line Ship had to do was learn to recite his full rank and name. The woman nodded and walked away. The daughter stood there, still smiling at me, her dark brown eyes giving away the fact that she was trying to summon the will to do something. Just as she had opened her mouth, the shrill voice of her mother echoed from a hallway.
"Annastasia!"
"Thank you once more." She said, giving me a sad smile before hurrying down the hallway where her mother had gone. I stood there a little while longer, until the whistle announcing the departure blew. Most of the passengers were standing at the rail of the boat deck, waving goodbye to their family, friends, and home. I felt the swell of pride and loneliness that always accompanied going to sea. To leave the land for the fierce expanse of ocean, 'tis a fine thing indeed.
"Not getting homesick are you, Murdoch?" A joking voice asked. Sixth Officer Moody had come up behind me, his usual cocky grin in place. One of the youngest officers onboard, he wasn't allowed to be in the Bridge when the ship was taken out. That was only for the Captain and the Chief Officer.
"No, not in the least Mr. Moody. Merely ready to go to sea again." I commented, watching as the Titanic slowly began to move away from the dock. Not only was she the newest and safest ship, she was also going to be the fastest. It was hoped on her maiden voyage that she would break the Trans-Atlantic speed record.
"Never have liked land much have you?"
"Not as much as I enjoy the ocean."
"Are ya gettin' soft on me, Murdoch?" He chuckled, elbowing me in the ribs.
"Shove off." I responded, jostling him back. He was the only one I could act like this with, he reminded me of my three younger siblings. The Murdoch house had always been one full of children, something that I desired. Unfortunately, no woman had ever presented herself as perfect to me. There was close call with a passenger from New Zealand, but quickly showed her true colors and was found under one of the other officers one night.
"'Ello! Murodch, get out of your own little world!" Moody cautioned, knocking his hand against my peaked hat. I grabbed it to keep it from falling in the harbor as we began to pull away. Titanic was escorted with as much pomp and circumstance as could be given, bands playing and well dressed socialites watching from their yachts in the harbor. Moody walked up and down the line of waving passengers, making sure they didn't fall over. I went to the other, less crowded side of the ship, where I was promptly attacked by a flurry of perriwinkle fabric and a shrieking woman.
"Please, Miss. Calm yourself." I asked, pulling her arms away from me so I could properly look at her. Ah, it was her. Annastasia, except she seemed flustered. Her hat had been knocked off and her hair was being whipped in the wind. It was very nice hair I managed to notice, long and a deep golden color. Her deep brown eyes registered a brief confusion before she screamed again.
"Oh, Mr. Murdoch, look!" She whirled in my hands, pointing across the harbor. A ship, the SS New York, had broken her moorings and was headed right for us. The only explanation that came to my mind was that the sheer size and water displacement of Titanic had caused her moorings, thick steel housings attached to large pylons on the dock, to snap like string. The same suction was now drawing her towards us like a slow harbinger of death.
"Blimey!" I cursed, letting her go and running for the Wheelhouse. Smith, a large man with a white beard, stood with his hand on the wheel. He was posing for a photographer who jumped when I slammed into the room. "Captain!"
"This had better be good, Mr. Murdoch." He growled, glowering at me from his place. I pointed behind me, through the windows. The hull of the New York had gotten even closer. Annastasia was clinging to the railing, watching in shock as the other ship grew closer.
"Port engines back full." Smith ordered tersely, sending me springing to move to engine order telegraph to the appropriate position. Titanic's massive bulk began to move slowly away, buying us time. The New York also began to move, away from us. More than likely a tugboat had come alongside and was pulling her away.
"This will set us back a bit." The Captain said once we had completed our turn.
"Well, better late than dead." I commented, looking out the window at Annastasia. She had released her death grip on the rail but it seemed to have taken a toll on her.
"Is she the one that spotted the other ship?"
"Aye, sir."
"Do you believe we should give her a reward?"
"Aye, sir." I answered all of Smith's questions dutifully. He gave me a rather rakish look before exiting the Wheelhouse. Something touched my leg as I followed him. A large hat, with white fabric roses around the crown and a white ribbon, was resting on the deck. I picked it up and followed Smith as he approached Annastasia. A pair of men that had been talking to her jerked backward and began to move away.
"Hello, miss." Smith startled her as she turned around. He tried to cancel out the shock with a kind smile, which I copied. "Mr. Murdoch tells me that you were the one that spotted the New York had slipped her moorings, correct?"
"Yes, sir." She spoke rather timidly, running her hands through her hair. I stepped forward, holding out the hat.
"Oh, um, here. I . . . picked this up off the deck." I stuttered, handing it back to her. Well done Will, look like a fool. That's exactly what you should do when in front of a beautiful woman. Stutter like a country simpleton. She smiled widely and held it in her hands. Smith looked sideways at me as I shuffled to stand behind him.
"Well you're to be commended then. I'll send a steward to bring your family to the dining saloon, what room are they in?" Smith pressed.
"Oh, B53." She answered, fixing her hat back on her head. Her hair still hung to her back and whipped like a pennant in the wind though.
"Perfect, Mr. Murdoch please escort miss . . ."
"Dalian." She supplied, sneaking a glance at me.
"Please escort Miss Dalian to the dining saloon. I'll be there momentarily." Smith ordered, turning back the Bridge and the photographers. I waited awkwardly as she seemed to examine me, her eyes lingering on mine for a brief moment.
"Well, we had better be off." Her voice was light and free, but with a power behind it. I offered my arm and she seemed to hesitate before sliding her hand, ever so gently, onto mine. I slowed my usual step as she walked with me along the Promenade. Come on Will, say something. Anything, compliment her. Damn it; don't stand here like a mute. TALK DAMN YOU!
"Forgive me, Miss Dalian. It is extremely unusual for passengers and officers to mix." I breathed, hoping she wouldn't consider me too strange. I was relieved as she laughed slightly before returning with a witty comment.
"Well, these are highly unusual circumstances. I mean it's not every day the unsinkable ship almost sinks." Her voice had a joking tone to it, causing me to smile. The time seemed to last forever and yet went by all too fast. We were descending the Grand Staircase, her fingers lingering on the wooden banister.
"Well, you know that even if the New York had hit us we probably wouldn't have sunk." I told her, we had gotten back onto the subject of Titanic. She seemed fascinated by the ship and was trying to get as much information out of me as she could.
"How is that?"
"Well, you see, Mr. Thomas Andrews - he's the Master Ship Builder, you know - designed Titanic with these waterproof bulkheads - they're big walls - so that even if four compartments were flooded she would still float. That way we could get her back into port and keep the passengers alive." I explained, defining the nautical terms for her. She didn't look like the type of girl who would know these terms by heart. I slowed down so I would have significant time to explain everything. She gazed at me with a sense of curiosity. She continually looked at me and jumped slightly when Smith spoke.
"I see Murdoch's enlightening you on our vessel, eh?" Smith chuckled, causing Miss Dalian to flush a bright red. The table, which was situated next to a large window and covered by an expensive tablecloth, was set for five with Miss Dalian's parents on one side and room for the two of us on the other. Smith sat at the head as an almost father of the ship. I lowered Ms. Dalian down to her chair. Stewards bustled through with steaming plates held in their hands.
"So, what did we do to deserve this honor?" Her father asked, looking at Smith. Smith proceeded to relate the tale, when he was dry for certain facts Ms. Dalian or I supplied them. Her father was grinning like a fox while her mother kept her mouth in a tight line.
"Well it appears you're quite the lucky charm!" He proclaimed, looking like he would love to slap her on the back.
"Half the honor, at least, must go to Mr. Murdoch." She stated, readjusting the silverware on her plate.
"Nonsense, if you hadn't told me I wouldn't have been able to alert Captain Smith." I responded, lightly sipping the glass of wine that had been set in front of me.
"Yes, you deserve some of it!"
"No, you were the one that warned us."
"I don't care who takes the credit, I'm just thankful for you both." Smith interrupted, causing Ms. Dalian to glare at me. Ms. Dalian was a very dainty girl, tall with a very small waist, but the glare that she gave me could have come from a battle hardened general. Since her head was turned to look at me, Smith gave me a wide grin and a very large wink. Oh, God. He can't think that, can he? My thoughts were interrupted as stewards placed food in front of us. As per Titanic everything was delicious, the best of the best. Ms. Dalian kept giving me her general glare so I responded with one of my own. Smith gave a chuckle which quickly turned into a cough as a steward approached.
"Oh, yes. I'll be there in a moment." He said, sending the steward running away. "I must be off, my apologies. We are approaching Cherbourg and I must be at the helm. Mr. Murdoch here will show you to your rooms." I leapt to my feet as was customary, bowing my head as he left. Ms. Dalian tapped her lips and set her napkin on her plate before rejoining me. She held onto my arm delicately. Luckily the way to their rooms was not complicated and we were swiftly there.
"Here you are, Ms. Dalian." I said, dipping down to kiss the back of her silk gloved hand. Say it, now's the perfect time. "I hope to see you again on this voyage."
"As do I Mr. Murdoch, perhaps you may attend dinner tonight with us?" She smiled. Yes! She likes you!
"Perhaps, if I am not on watch at the helm."
"Then I certainly hope someone else has the watch." She laughed at her own witty comment. I gave a slight bow to her parents before turning away. I knew this ship like the back of my hand, and was at the Bridge in an instant. I stood watching as Smith skillfully guided the ship into the harbor, letting us rest off of the dock. Passengers would be brought out by smaller ferry boats, supplies transported the same way.
"There appears to be something between the two of you Mr. Murdoch." Smith said, once the Titanic's anchors had plunged into the harbor. The sun was already down and I was anxious to go and dine. "I am afraid I must prohibit it though."
"Captain?" I was stunned, had he not fooled around at lunch? Or was that merely to let me know that he knew that I liked her?
"Regulations, plus her family is one of the wealthiest in America. Her mother stopped me earlier and forbade me from letting you see her." Smith truly seemed sorry, even going as far as to give me a small pat on the back. "It just wasn't meant."
"I-I understand, sir."
"Why don't you take a turn around the deck, get some fresh air in you?" Smith suggested, opening the door.
"Aye, sir. Some fresh air might be just what I need." I left, wandering the deck. Stupid mother, stupid regulations. Blast them all to Hell! Is it such a tragedy that I like her? Haven't people been pushing that we need to marry for love and not for money? I looked out over the railing, out at the cold hard Atlantic. Then again, what would she want in me? Women like to be rooted down; I float from place to place. Maybe I should just forgo women all together. Live as a bachelor of the sea. It would certainly be easier than this. A small sob echoed through the night. A small female sob. I jogged down the deck, finding the slumped over form of a woman on a deck chair. Her green velvet dress was stained with tears; it took me a second to recognize the crying woman as Annasta- Ms. Dalian. I stood next to her and laid a soothing hand on her back. The sobbing gave a slight hiccup as she realized I was here.
"Why Miss Dalian, whatever is the matter?" I asked, popping the buttons through the button holes of my coat and taking it off. I laid it over her, noting that she didn't carry a shawl as many other passengers. She looked up at me but began to sob even harder. I sat next to her and put an arm around her waist. It was an extreme breach of protocol but she needed it. "Please Miss Dalian; please tell me what has disturbed you."
She only cried harder. I am not sure if it was her or I that placed her crying head on my chest but she was soon leaning on me, her tears soaking into the material of my shirt. I ran my hand down her back again, lightly brushing her hair while I was at it. I felt her hands as she kneaded my shirt. I cannot remember what I spoke, but it must have been calming because she slowly stopped sobbing and began to wipe her eyes.
"Better now?" I asked, keeping an arm around her. I was, well, scared that she might cry herself to death. I am not even sure if that is possible but she could have done it.
"Yes, I-I am so sorry that you had to find me like this." She sniffed, wiping her eyes with the back of her hands. I reached into the pocket of my coat, brushing her leg slightly as I retrieved a handkerchief. I dabbed it across her face, wiping away the tears from her face. She sniffed and smiled at me; perhaps I had broken all protocol for Officers but gained a small place with her. As a friend, a confidant, I didn't care. She had stopped crying and that was all I needed. I was nearly jolted out of my skin as a scream broke through the still Atlantic night.
"Hurry!" I told Ms. Dalian, grasping her hand. She was game enough to keep up with me as I pulled her back to the stern. The Master-at-Arms, Archibald Gracie, a woman I recognized as Rose DeWitt Bukater, a dark haired man, and a blond steerage passenger were grouped on the stern Promenade.
"What made you think you could put your hands on my fiancée? Look at me, you filth! What did you think you were doing?" The dark haired man screamed, reaching over to punch the steerage passenger. Ms. Dalian stepped backwards but squeezed my hand. I responded with a squeeze of my own.
"Cal, stop! It was an accident." Ms. DeWitt Bukater said, laying a hand on her fiancée's arm.
"An accident?"
"It was . . . stupid really. I was leaning over and I slipped. I was leaning way over, to see the . . . ah . . . propellers. And I slipped and I would have gone overboard . . . and Mr. Dawson here saved me and he almost went over himself." She explained, I snorted through my nose. I think it was fairly obvious what the young man was up to, but if she didn't want to press the events then it was her decision.
"You wanted to see the propellers?" Cal asked, a look complete stupidity on his face.
"Women and machinery do not mix." Gracie rumbled, gaining a disapproving look of me. I hated when people expected a woman to only cook, clean and look pretty. Guess I got it from my mother; she is a very strong woman.
"Everything is under control here I take it?" I asked, looking down at Ms. Dalian. I noticed with dismay that my coat was still on her. I gave the Master-at-Arms a look that would have frozen Hell over, no explanation needed for the reason. "Miss Dalian, would you like me to escort you to your room?"
"Oh, no. It's . . . uh, it's fine. I can find them on my own, just off the Grand Staircase right?" She stammered, backing away. I nodded and she turned and flew down the deck and inside. You see, she doesn't like you. She returned a few minutes later, giving me my coat and looking ashamed. I shrugged my coat back on, enjoying the lingering small of her floral perfume. Vanilla, with a hint of lavender I believe. I watched her as she moved slowly along the deck.
"Good night, Miss Dalian." I whispered, letting the wind carry it away into the starry Atlantic night.
