Not dead.
I'll admit that I had a rough time writing this chapter due to real life happenings. My recruiter messed up and I've been scrambling these past few weeks to pick it all up before the now rapidly approaching board deadline.
This chapter was meant to be (a lot) longer but I felt you all needed an update. Content isn't cut; it'll just be the start of the next chapter instead.
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A million thoughts flew through her mind, but she couldn't focus on any of them.
Every action she made seemed to cancel the previous; every thought drowned by the next. She would make to move her hand, then try to move her leg, only to stop trying to move her hand, then attempt to open her mouth to speak words that refused to come, only for that, too, to stop her leg from moving. She tried to think of something- anything- to salvage the situation that she had made.
Anything she could think up was pulled down into the panicked, broiling mess inside of her head. Around her, the sea itself seemed to spite her. It was calm, languid, and a beautiful shade of turquoise. The waves had no whitecaps and the sound of them lapping at the hull was soft and gentle.
At least the sea breeze is pleasant on my skin.
And what a novel experience that had been when she had opened her eyes for the first time on her rosewood deck; naked and confused. Feeling the wind whip against her body when there had previously only been cold metal had been the first thing she experienced as a human.
Gripping the capelet that she kept over her shoulder, she reminisced about how flustered Captain Kerr had been when he had found her. How he had wrapped her in his officer's coat; still warm from his body.
I wonder if Bell would've done such a thing. If his coat would be as warm.
A quiet ruffling of clothing reminded her that she was not alone on the admiral's deck of the Pennsylvania. She kept her head forward but glanced her eye toward the object of her confusion and frustration. Admiral Jack Bell was taking deep breaths with his eyes facing forward and into the headwind. The island in front of them was slowly losing the blue haze that had appeared to engulf it from a distance as they cruised ever closer.
He spoke suddenly. "What is your favorite kind of tea?"
It took her a moment to gather her whirlwind of thoughts into coherence.
Bwah?
Hood turned her eye back ahead and grimaced.
In terms of small talk… it's not the worst? At least it gives me an excuse to speak.
She tried to open her mouth to speak but all that came out was a rough rasp. Taking a moment to take a deep breath, she paused to make sure her thoughts were in order before she tried again. She politely cleared her throat before answering, "Earl Grey, sir. Twining's, specifically. Black tea is a touch too much for my palette to drink regularly."
He hummed absently.
She continued. "My friend Electra swears by Yorkshire, but I believe Twining's has a superior aroma."
He nodded.
Her eye narrowed. "Sometimes I enjoy a banana before tea time and place the rind into the kettle for taste."
"Good choice," he said.
She raised an eyebrow. "Are you listening, sir?"
"That's nice."
Hood scoffed and shook her head. Taking her cane from the nearby railing, she made to leave the admiral's deck. Rather than take the nearby staircase- an inclined ladder, really- Hood walked down the amidship until she was on the fantail. She stared at the American flag as it whipped in the wind created by Pennsylvania, counting each star and every stripe.
Forty-eight stars. Thirteen stripes.
She shrugged off her capelet and held it in her one good hand in front of her. She could easily pick out the designs of the three kingdoms that formed her home.
England, Scotland, and Northern Ireland. I can scarcely name two states of the forty-eight stars on the one above me.
Her grip on the capelet tightened. "Why does it feel like God Himself is against me? Is it because I've spit in His face? Do I deserve it because I was not born like every other human? Why is it that every scrap of happiness that's allotted to me is ripped away? My captain, my crew, my ship, my friend, my home; why am I alone forsaken? I've effectively been kicked out of my home, my new captain can't stand me, and I'm not certain when I'll see my only true friend next. I know I told Electra that I didn't think I'd miss Scapa Flow, but I didn't know that I would feel so alone in the States. The people here speak English, but it's almost as if they speak a language I can't understand. I feel like so much an outsider. Like I'm watching a play in the theatre. The actors are before me and I am before them, but I am not a part of the play."
She rubbed her thumb across the blue, white, and red fabric of her capelet. Without her white glove, she could feel every stitch and fraying string.
She began to sing softly, "God save our gracious King. Long live our noble King. God save the King." She took a deep breath before continuing. "Send him victorious, happy and glorious. Long to reign over us. God save the King. God save me."
She raised the capelet and wiped her face. It came away darkened and wet. In front of her, the American flag remained where it had been, waving in the dawn's early light. She ground her teeth together and screamed. She threw the capelet as hard as she could at it. She stumbled on uneven feet and slammed her knees onto the teak decking. The capelet, however, flew true and caught on the pole, temporarily covering the stars with the union jack, before it was blown away and into the sea.
Her knees ached, and she could feel bruises already forming, but she remained motionless on the deck.
She put her head in her hand. "What am I doing...?"
She choked back a sob. "Perhaps… Perhaps letting go of my proper persona was a misstep. I was never so unstable. So unfit for duty. The only one who understood me enough to drop airs around was Electra… Yes, I just need to fulfill my duties. Then I can be back with her. Be back home with my friend. I just." She swallowed. "I just need to pretend for now. I am not a warship. I am Lady Hood of the Royal Navy. I am not an emotional wreck. I am a Lady of the court. I am alright. Proper ladies do not cry. Proper ladies smile politely and nod. Proper ladies… I am. I am. I am. I am."
Her hand shook against her chest. Where her left hand once was, a phantom pain blossomed. "I am the mighty battlecruiser Hood. Pennant number 53. Lady of the Court. Lady. Lady. Yes. I am Hood. Admiral Class. My sisters- no, no sisters. Never completed. Never born. I was born. I was born a Lady. A Lady I will be."
She pulled her hand away from her and simply stared at it, stared at the pale skin that covered it. She knew there was muscle and bone beneath it.
But it could be metal. She wouldn't know until she checked.
"There you are."
Hood flinched and turned her head around.
Pennsylvania was behind her. "Y'all good, Hood? I heard you scream."
"I'm alright. I simply tripped."
Pennsylvania folded her arms, unimpressed. "Uh huh. Well, we're closing in on the base, so we should notify Bell that we need to get prepped for docking."
She stood up on weak legs, her cane forgotten on the deck. "Alright. I will inform Commander Kerr that we are nearing our destination."
Pennsylvania tilted her head. "You mean Commander Bell?"
"Yes," Hood said slowly, "Commander Bell. That is what I said, was it not? No matter, I'm certain that the Commander will be appreciative of our efforts. Come along, Miss Pennsylvania."
"It was my idea," Pennsylvania muttered. As she left the fantail, Pennsylvania swiped up Hood's forgotten cane and twirled it in her hand as she followed the blonde woman.
They walked in silence up the amidship to find the admiral had not moved from his spot. His eyes were still fixated on the island that now dominated the ocean before them. Past him, in the water, Hood could see several tug boats flocking around Maryland. A high-pitched whirring demanded her attention as she tilted her head to the sky and saw a Sikorsky flying boat beginning a slow circle around the docking fleet.
She cleared her throat before speaking. "Admiral Bell, we've arrived at the coordinates provided by Admiral Halsey. I would advise that you gather your personal effects before we finish docking procedures."
The admiral gave no indication of having heard her. He tilted his head slightly to the left as he watched a tugboat break away from Maryland and began latching itself to Helena.
Hood pursed her lips. "Sir, if I may?"
He made a carry-on motion with his hand.
"I am aware that we do not get on well, but our positions require us to be at least cordial to each other. I do not believe in asking for respect, but I do believe I at least deserve vocal acknowledgement when I am speaking with my Commander."
He turned his attention back forward before shaking his head slowly. "A fair enough request. I'm sorry, Hood. I was simply lost in thought and not paying you the attention you deserve. Don't hesitate to ask for basic decency in the future if I'm found lacking. You shouldn't need to in the first place, but I'm nothing if not aware of my own faults."
Hood blinked. I had been prepared for another argument… but I will happily accept this outcome instead.
She bowed her head. "Think nothing of it, sir. I simply wished for us to both be on the same page on how a gentleman should conduct himself with a lady."
Pennsylvania snorted beside her. "Does being a lady also involve chasing Enty around a table?"
Hood tilted her nose up. "That was simply a brief lapse in decorum, Miss Pennsylvania."
Penn's smile didn't leave her face. "And Tennessee?"
"A lady need not have to wait on her knight in shining armor at all times, must she?"
Pennsylvania clasped her hands behind her head. "Eh, guess not. I was never one for fairy tales, anyway." She stretched her arms above her head and grunted. "Both of you should get your stuff. I'm gonna get Arizona while I wait for my turn to dock."
Hood watched as Pennsylvania slipped off the admiral's deck, onto the focsle, and out of sight.
"What's this about something with Tennessee?" Admiral Bell questioned.
The edges of her lips twitched up. "Miss Tennessee was having a difficult time expressing her emotions in a productive manner. I relieved her of such stress."
He sighed. "If you had a fight I'm obligated to report it."
"I said no such thing. It appears that a launch is arriving, Commander."
"I've dealt with marines and sailors for years. I know when someone is attempting to say they had a fight without admitting it to an officer, Hood." He looked at the sky for a moment before continuing. "Please gather our belongings. I'll deal with the launch."
She bowed her head shallowly. "Of course, sir."
Just as the Admiral was about to make his way off the deck, he turned back around to face Hood. "Weren't you wearing a cover of some sort? A British flag or something?"
"I felt that I had no reason to wear it any longer, so I simply packed it away."
Several moments passed as the Admiral stared at her. Without warning, he turned and carried on with his walk to the launch.
Once he was out of sight, Hood's shoulders slumped. "You just need to pretend, Hood. You just need to pretend."
She stood on the admiral's deck in silence for a moment longer. The creaking and groaning of the cold metal and damp wood around her snapped her from it. Taking the cane that lay against the nearby bulkhead, she strode into the admiral's quarters just off the admiral's deck. The room itself wasn't terribly large- no personal quarters on the ship were, but it looked closer to a regular room on a base than any other.
It's far more furnished than the other quarters I saw. More so than even the captain's quarters I've been staying in at the least. Though, I struggle to say that anything on an American ship comes close to lavish. This is more like spartan instead of just utilitarian.
Sitting neatly on the made bed were three suitcases of varying sizes. Two were on the larger end, and the last appeared to be just a regular briefcase. Well-worn dark brown leather covered all three, shining with fresh lacquer. Setting her cane to the side, she picked up the briefcase and placed it just outside the door.
If I can grip them right, I do believe I can take all of them in one trip.
The last two suitcases were bigger than her torso. She gripped the handle of one and pulled. It barely lifted off the sheets.
"That's peculiar. What is this blasted thing filled with? Rocks?"
She tightened her grip on the handle and shot her arm up, tossing the suitcase into the air and catching it.
At least, that's what she imagined would happen.
She tugged hard on the handle of the suitcase and lost her grip, tossing her onto the floor behind her instead. Rubbing the bottom of her capri pants and making sure the only thing bruised was her pride, she rose back to her feet.
"Nay, it isn't filled with rocks. It's filled with ready-use ammunition. How did he even get it on the ship if I'm having trouble lifting it?"
Placing her cane on the bed, she gripped the handle firmly and slowly lifted the leather-bound box several inches before moving it to the floor beside the door in the bulkhead. Her fingers ached as she released her nigh death-grip. She shook her hand lightly and repeated the process with the last suitcase. Taking the cane from the bed, she leaned it against the bulkhead outside the admiral's quarters and began the tedious process of moving Jack's belongings from inside the stateroom to outside on the deck.
Now, for my belongings.
If Admiral Bell's meager three suitcases of clothes and personal effects were disappointing, then Hood's own single, modest suitcase was outright depressing.
Walking the several dozen feet around the conning tower and to the captain's quarters on the other side of the ship was neither long nor arduous, and with her things already packed, she had gathered all their things in one place in record time. Hood refused to repeat the mistake she made with Captain Adams on her journey to Hawaii-She stood with her back straight and her heels together as she awaited Jack's return. The light heaving of the ship beneath her forced her to rely more on her cane than she wished, but it helped maintain her air of cool detachment that was proper.
I wish I had my hull right now. I always wish I had it, but never is it more pronounced than on another ship. They're just so… cold.
"Miss Hood."
She forced down the instinct to jump and turned her head slightly, and hummed.
Jack cleared his throat. "We're to be taken to shore while the tugs lead Pennsylvania into her berthing. I'll check back on all the ships to make sure they're made fast after we've sorted ourselves in the offices. I trust the captains and dockmen to do their jobs until then."
Hood shallowly bowed her head. "Of course, sir."
Before she could object, Jack stepped past her and picked up all three of his suitcases- the two smaller in his left hand and the larger with his right- without a second thought nor intense strain. The casual act left Hood with her mouth open and frozen.
"Come along, Miss Hood, the launch is waiting."
Her mouth snapped close, and she lightly shook her head before picking up her suitcase and hobbling after the man.
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Mm, tasty character regression.