~Westenra's POV~
**
** He was clearly a friendly man, for which I was thankful. I would need many friends upon the ship if I was to survive and be happy on board, for I am well aware that female nature calls for her to have close friends and acquaintances, and without such she becomes unhappy quickly.
"My thanks, Lieutenant Grange, I will see you at dinner in the ward room?" He nodded, and called for a marine to show me to the Captain's cabin, which was luckily near to my own small space, which the marine pointed out.
The marine knocked upon the door, and at the call of 'Enter!' did so, me behind him. I was dazed. If all the rooms in the ship were like this...No, that was silly.
There were rugs scattered on the polished floor, a reasonably sized window with curtains, a desk... Behind the desk sat a young man, only six or so years older than my 22 years. He had thick black hair, which fell in places into his serious grey eyes in a most attractive manner, and slightly weatherworn skin that would be considered most commendable in a serving Captain, in good society. He wore full dress uniform, and looked most handsome. I realized that the marine was introducing me, and concentrated.
"...Westenra, your secretary, sir." "Very good, Brown, you may go." His voice! I do not mean to sound lovesick, for I was nothing of the kind, but it was a pleasure to listen to his measured tones, and well modulated speech, which told of a man who liked to sing. He turned to me.
"Welcome aboard the Dominion, Westenra. I know this is your first commission, but I expect you to learn quickly, for I do not have much time or patience to teach. Your basic duties are, as you probably know, translating letters or speech, assisting me in any tasks I ask you to do, knowing what to do, when to give advice...Generally if I ask for it, and not unless..." Here he smiled, indicating that he did not take well to being advised, and that I should only try upon important occasions when it was really necessary.
"And finally, you will make yourself a useful member of my ship. I do listen to suggestions regarding many matters, excepting those of a personal nature and the commands I choose to give. Understood?" "Yes, sir, clearly." "Any questions?" "Just two sir. Regarding knowing what to do- I am not clear about the protocol for queries about...."
While I enjoyed the supreme privilege of being allowed to speak with the man I was to serve under, and fast coming to respect and like, my mind was taking everything in and reporting back the impression I was forming of James Wendon.
I found him to be a pleasant man, who I liked and thought highly of, but who I soon knew would know me very well, as he impressed me as a great judge of character and a good friend and formidable enemy. I was pleased that, during the ten or so minutes he had to spare for me, his manner became increasingly pleasant, and I realized that a captain must lead a relatively solitary life, not being able to share decisions and plans, having to shoulder the responsibility for many men and a ship's good behavior and reputation, and that he was glad to talk in a friendly manner for a while, even over technical matters.
In the next few days, I overcame my slight queasiness from the ship's motion, and began my job. I was privileged to know more than most about our destination, as on the third day at sea I was invited to translate Captain Wendon's first letter to the British embassy in a particular Spanish Coastal town. I told no one. My first experiences of dinner in the Wardroom were similar to dinners I had attended with my brother's friends- humorous, friendly, polite, as we did not all know each other yet, and generally interesting affairs. Occasionally I was shocked at the language used, and some of the subjects spoken about, but I did my best to keep my face pleasant and in agreement. I kept totally clear of the rat pit, where rats were encourages to fight against each other, the men playing and gambling with anything else they could lay hands on- none of the senior officers were involved, and seemed to know nothing, but a couple of junior midshipmen enjoyed watching every now and then. How did I know this? People didn't notice me. I was quiet, and pleasant, and never made anyone uncomfortable, so they spoke –or whispered- freely in front of me. It was a natural advantage.
I began to make friends. Byrne and I were particularly good friends. Since the day I had arrived, he had seemed to try and help me, teaching me about the ship, answering questions, laughing with me over a joke; little things that are very important when all about you is new. It was a pleasure for me to hear him call me to a seat next to him at dinner, well-chiseled features breaking into a grin of pleasure at the sight of me. He was third lieutenant, 25 years old, and loved serving on the Dominion.
'It's like no other ship in the world, Westenra, because everyone is so enthusiastic. The Cap'n inspires it somehow- a feeling of being young and happy. Even Grange, who's coming up to 40, acts like a man of 30!' He told me, tapping his biscuit on the table to rid it of weevils, a thing I found absolutely disgusting, but was fast getting used to. I nodded and grinned back.
"Well, I'm lucky I got put here for my first commission, then, really!" I joked back- Lieutenant Grange was a decent man, clever and hardworking, but lacking the education and flair for tactics which made for a fast promotion, but his enthusiasm was boundless, and a common gentle pun made by himself and his friends. Byrne grinned appreciatively, and checked his watch.
"So, how's your stomach today?" Yesterday we'd gone through a bad patch of weather and I had experienced real seasickness, which had nearly incapacitated me for most of the afternoon. Luckily the Captain hadn't summoned me, so no one apart from Byrne had discovered my weakness. "It's getting better, thanks. The soup last night helped a lot, actually. Byrne, tell me more about your sister? You stopped halfway through, and I have no sisters." Byrne looked slightly puzzled, as if unsure why I'd be interested in his sister, but began to tell me about the girl who seemed so much like me.
"Well, I told you before, she's a fair lass, with scarlet hair, and gentle as a lamb at times, and ready to tear your ears off if ye vex 'er! She's dutiful, like, but whenever she has 'er own time she's off gallivanting in the fields with her dog, Tay. She reads all the books I have read, an' more, and I think she'd secretly love to be a princess, or a fine lady and do as she pleases...She's a good lass, clever and honest as the day is long. I remember the time when she boxed my ears for me when I came home after my first fight, with a black eye and sore ribs, as is usual, then sat with me until I drifted off to sleep, strokin' my hand to calm me, like. Aye, I miss her on long trips, but we'll be back in a year, tops."
I looked puzzled- how could he know we'd be back that soon? "Dominion'll need a new stavrell* soon, an the only place we can get it will be Portsmouth. They might ship it out to us, I s'pose..." A marine knocked and at our call, put his head around the door. "Captain's compliments, Mr. Westenra, an' he'd like to see you in his cabin."
* a fictional piece of equipment! R&R? It's much appreciated! Estriel xx
**
** He was clearly a friendly man, for which I was thankful. I would need many friends upon the ship if I was to survive and be happy on board, for I am well aware that female nature calls for her to have close friends and acquaintances, and without such she becomes unhappy quickly.
"My thanks, Lieutenant Grange, I will see you at dinner in the ward room?" He nodded, and called for a marine to show me to the Captain's cabin, which was luckily near to my own small space, which the marine pointed out.
The marine knocked upon the door, and at the call of 'Enter!' did so, me behind him. I was dazed. If all the rooms in the ship were like this...No, that was silly.
There were rugs scattered on the polished floor, a reasonably sized window with curtains, a desk... Behind the desk sat a young man, only six or so years older than my 22 years. He had thick black hair, which fell in places into his serious grey eyes in a most attractive manner, and slightly weatherworn skin that would be considered most commendable in a serving Captain, in good society. He wore full dress uniform, and looked most handsome. I realized that the marine was introducing me, and concentrated.
"...Westenra, your secretary, sir." "Very good, Brown, you may go." His voice! I do not mean to sound lovesick, for I was nothing of the kind, but it was a pleasure to listen to his measured tones, and well modulated speech, which told of a man who liked to sing. He turned to me.
"Welcome aboard the Dominion, Westenra. I know this is your first commission, but I expect you to learn quickly, for I do not have much time or patience to teach. Your basic duties are, as you probably know, translating letters or speech, assisting me in any tasks I ask you to do, knowing what to do, when to give advice...Generally if I ask for it, and not unless..." Here he smiled, indicating that he did not take well to being advised, and that I should only try upon important occasions when it was really necessary.
"And finally, you will make yourself a useful member of my ship. I do listen to suggestions regarding many matters, excepting those of a personal nature and the commands I choose to give. Understood?" "Yes, sir, clearly." "Any questions?" "Just two sir. Regarding knowing what to do- I am not clear about the protocol for queries about...."
While I enjoyed the supreme privilege of being allowed to speak with the man I was to serve under, and fast coming to respect and like, my mind was taking everything in and reporting back the impression I was forming of James Wendon.
I found him to be a pleasant man, who I liked and thought highly of, but who I soon knew would know me very well, as he impressed me as a great judge of character and a good friend and formidable enemy. I was pleased that, during the ten or so minutes he had to spare for me, his manner became increasingly pleasant, and I realized that a captain must lead a relatively solitary life, not being able to share decisions and plans, having to shoulder the responsibility for many men and a ship's good behavior and reputation, and that he was glad to talk in a friendly manner for a while, even over technical matters.
In the next few days, I overcame my slight queasiness from the ship's motion, and began my job. I was privileged to know more than most about our destination, as on the third day at sea I was invited to translate Captain Wendon's first letter to the British embassy in a particular Spanish Coastal town. I told no one. My first experiences of dinner in the Wardroom were similar to dinners I had attended with my brother's friends- humorous, friendly, polite, as we did not all know each other yet, and generally interesting affairs. Occasionally I was shocked at the language used, and some of the subjects spoken about, but I did my best to keep my face pleasant and in agreement. I kept totally clear of the rat pit, where rats were encourages to fight against each other, the men playing and gambling with anything else they could lay hands on- none of the senior officers were involved, and seemed to know nothing, but a couple of junior midshipmen enjoyed watching every now and then. How did I know this? People didn't notice me. I was quiet, and pleasant, and never made anyone uncomfortable, so they spoke –or whispered- freely in front of me. It was a natural advantage.
I began to make friends. Byrne and I were particularly good friends. Since the day I had arrived, he had seemed to try and help me, teaching me about the ship, answering questions, laughing with me over a joke; little things that are very important when all about you is new. It was a pleasure for me to hear him call me to a seat next to him at dinner, well-chiseled features breaking into a grin of pleasure at the sight of me. He was third lieutenant, 25 years old, and loved serving on the Dominion.
'It's like no other ship in the world, Westenra, because everyone is so enthusiastic. The Cap'n inspires it somehow- a feeling of being young and happy. Even Grange, who's coming up to 40, acts like a man of 30!' He told me, tapping his biscuit on the table to rid it of weevils, a thing I found absolutely disgusting, but was fast getting used to. I nodded and grinned back.
"Well, I'm lucky I got put here for my first commission, then, really!" I joked back- Lieutenant Grange was a decent man, clever and hardworking, but lacking the education and flair for tactics which made for a fast promotion, but his enthusiasm was boundless, and a common gentle pun made by himself and his friends. Byrne grinned appreciatively, and checked his watch.
"So, how's your stomach today?" Yesterday we'd gone through a bad patch of weather and I had experienced real seasickness, which had nearly incapacitated me for most of the afternoon. Luckily the Captain hadn't summoned me, so no one apart from Byrne had discovered my weakness. "It's getting better, thanks. The soup last night helped a lot, actually. Byrne, tell me more about your sister? You stopped halfway through, and I have no sisters." Byrne looked slightly puzzled, as if unsure why I'd be interested in his sister, but began to tell me about the girl who seemed so much like me.
"Well, I told you before, she's a fair lass, with scarlet hair, and gentle as a lamb at times, and ready to tear your ears off if ye vex 'er! She's dutiful, like, but whenever she has 'er own time she's off gallivanting in the fields with her dog, Tay. She reads all the books I have read, an' more, and I think she'd secretly love to be a princess, or a fine lady and do as she pleases...She's a good lass, clever and honest as the day is long. I remember the time when she boxed my ears for me when I came home after my first fight, with a black eye and sore ribs, as is usual, then sat with me until I drifted off to sleep, strokin' my hand to calm me, like. Aye, I miss her on long trips, but we'll be back in a year, tops."
I looked puzzled- how could he know we'd be back that soon? "Dominion'll need a new stavrell* soon, an the only place we can get it will be Portsmouth. They might ship it out to us, I s'pose..." A marine knocked and at our call, put his head around the door. "Captain's compliments, Mr. Westenra, an' he'd like to see you in his cabin."
* a fictional piece of equipment! R&R? It's much appreciated! Estriel xx
