I just wanted to jump on and say a big thank you to those few who have reviewed or followed this story! This fiction has definitely been a labour of love, taking longer than I expected to complete as I have fleshed out the steps of this journey whilst writing. (Note to self, plan more fully for my next story).
I've also realised that in Persuasion, the time that Fanny and James wait to be married is a matter of years. In this story, it is only months... I hope that you can appreciate the license I am taking here. Otherwise, I've tried to remain as true to the original story as possible.
Rhea
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To the unbiased observer, it would be safe to say that James Benwick was living the life of the blessed. He had achieved his position in life through a sound upbringing, a keen mind and good deeds. He was surrounded by friends, who were as good as family and had the love of an intelligent woman (a singular woman, many would say). Even the weather seemed to be disposed to act in his favour, as the crew of The Grappler enjoyed unseasonably calm seas on their return journey back to England.
James Benwick however, behaving as any other sailor would, did not dare speak of his good fortune out loud. While not a superstitious man ordinarily, something in him kept such thoughts locked in a corner of his mind, only to be taken out and dwelt upon during that quiet time spent in his quarters after retiring for the evening but before sleep. This was another such evening, as perusing Fanny's last letter to him, he found that an extra page had been stuck behind the last. Something that in his haste to read her words he had undoubtedly missed.
Having been at Sea and then on the Spanish Coast, he had not expected to hear from his beloved. And then again, their orders had been changed slightly, so that they were to head directly back to Portsmouth instead of returning to Penzance, Plymouth and then hug the coast home as they had done in the beginning of this mission. James had determined to have letters for The Grappler sent on first thing in the morning. But to find an unexpected page in Fanny's last, well that was a boon indeed!
Laying upon his bed, he read by candlelight:
My dearest love,
I had determined to finish this pretty note with those words from Keats but I find myself at loose ends today, a forced day of rest from the hospice. I had a brief turn whilst assisting there yesterday, unfortunately whilst Dr _ was in the room. So, he is using all of his professional clout and natural gift for making one feel guilty to keep me confined to the house to rest. (I hope you can feel my eyes rolling, dear.)
The good doctor feels as though I have over worked myself. I feel as though a good mutiny is in order for the Doctor's house. To my great regret, his darling wife does not agree. Nor do the house keeper or the cook. I do not feel overworked at all, though I must own to feeling as though the fog and smoke of the docks is robbing my strength. Why I had to stop twice on my way to the hospital yesterday morning simply to catch my breath.
I look forward to when we are married as I see that we will have the best of all circumstances. We will sail the world together; you know that I cannot bear to be parted from you again... until at least we have started a family of our own. Perhaps then you will take me to live near your family. I'm led to believe that Dorsetshire is a beautiful county. I like the idea of the fresh country breezes almost as much as I do the swift ocean winds.
As always, I hold you in my heart. I see your face each time I close my eyes. I hear your steady voice as you read from Ellis' Natural History as I drift off to sleep. I promise this is from comfort and not due to the subject matter! Be safe until we meet again.
Fanny.
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Stepping out on to the main deck, Commander Benwick breathed the familiar mix of fresh sea air and smoke from the burning coal-fires of the residents of Portsmouth. Anticipation had set a steady hum within his chest. He mentally listed the tasks, counted the hours until he would be free to hold Fanny in his arms. He was sure that he would have beaten his last letter to her. He was not sure he could bear to watch her open the parcel to receive his likeness. It felt a little conceited, he would probably make sure to be busy at that time.
Arriving at the wheel, he made sure to check at least one task of his list, "Good day to you Butler, how did the night fair?"
"All is well, Commander. We arrived in the harbour a little after three o'clock of the morn. It has been stiller than a baby's bath tub. Though you may have spied, there is a raft on its way to us now."
"Very good, retire for some rest. We shall dine together at Midday."
"Aye-aye, Sir."
"Ferrars, crawl down from there if you please." James watched as Ferrars nimbly climbed down the netting of the mast. "Who are our visitors?"
"It appears to be that Captain from the Laconia, Sir. Wentworf's 'is name I reckon."
At this James frowned, what on Earth could Frederick be doing here? He was certain the Laconia had been bound for Plymouth. Placing this thought aside as no doubt he would soon find out the purpose for his visit, James continued, "You have family here, Ferrars?"
"I do, Sir. I wife and three bairns."
"Very good. Head to the naval office and notify them of our return. Put in a request for our letters. Then, if you happen to pass by your home on your return, invite your wife to dine with us at Midday."
"Thank you, Sir! Right away, Sir!" and with a look of pleased surprise, Ferrars took himself away.
Walking to the Starboard side of the deck, James waited to help assist his friend of the rail. He called out in welcome to the young captain, but the man kept his head bowed. Tired, James thought to himself. Time seemed to slow as he watched Frederick climb up the rope ladder and haul himself aboard The Grappler. James started at the haggard look upon the face of his friend.
"Good God Frederick, what is the matter?" he exclaimed.
"James," Frederick rasped, as though he bore the weight of the world upon his shoulders. "I bring terrible news."
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He was floating in a sea of agony.
Ears ringing, heart thumping- the turbulent waves of memory as vicious and unforgiving as the worst sea crossing...
A gaping crevasse had opened inside of him and sucked away all hope. All joy. All love.
James stared into the agonised face of his friend and understood nothing yet felt everything. He wanted to ask how. He wanted to scream, to curse Frederick and send him away.
Lying. Frederick had to be lying.
James staggered to the side of the ship and leant against the rail, hoping that the pressure would relieve the raging pain that was storming his chest. His brain was a fiery abyss.
Staring at the cool blue of the ocean, he felt only fire and death. Pain and death. Dead, he thought as the he sought the cool of the deep.
"Christ, James- no", he heard as footsteps ran toward him. A pair of hands grabbed his lapels and he was awkwardly pulled back and slid down onto the deck. His chest heaved and a sough escaped his him.
Perhaps Frederick thought James' sob sounded like a question. Perhaps, he needed to fill the silence. "A fever," he continued. "That blasted head cold she was dealing with last Spring never left her. Although, Margaret was not worried for her until she was called to the hospice by Dr _. She was on her shift and collapsed. They took her home, Fanny wanted no one but Margaret to nurse her." Frederick couldn't continue and James didn't want to hear more.
Gone.
His Athena, his Valkyrie, his Persephone- dead. Fanny, dead!
This couldn't be true!
James looked to his friend with wild eyes and Frederick read his need like the true brother he was. He heaved his friend up under his arms and guided him quickly to his room.
As they staggered through the door, James shook off his friend and rushed to his writing desk. Pulling out the letters his beloved had sent him, he searched and searched for any clue, any sign that she had been so unwell. Surely, she wouldn't have kept this from him. Fanny was open and honest above all things... vaguely aware of Frederick's presence in the corner of the room, James sank onto his stool as he read Fanny's words.
... My Darling James, I am cross with spring. The blooms have left me feeling like a walking handkerchief. Even the wounded and infirm find the strength to shield themselves from my unladylike sneezes. Take me back to our autumn days together...
... My darling, my heart is cold and my body cannot find the warmth it needs without the help of your arms...
... the fog and smoke of the docks is robbing my strength, why I had to stop twice on my way to the hospital yesterday morning simply to catch my breath. I look forward to when we are married and you will take me to live near your family. I like the idea of the fresh country breezes.
The language of the ill pervaded Fanny's letters like a creeping mist. Every paragraph held clues that James had missed. A guttural cry rang from the depths of his being as he swiped the contents of the desk to the floor and threw his chair across the room. "Nnnooooo," he half moaned, half wailed.
James was visited by visions of his beloved. Her wild laughter, her crackling eyes...
The way a blush travelled from her chest to her cheeks...
Walking arm and arm through the park...
Sitting together by the fire of the Harville's parlour...
Their first dance...
an endless loop of hurt and longing as time ceased to exist...
James became aware of a throbbing in his hands and realised that he was on the floor and had been banging his fists on the stained timber. Looking around he found the floor littered with ink, pens, papers, a sextant. His heart momentarily jumped to his throat and feeling crazed, he began to scramble for her letters, what could he have been thinking? These were his last links to her. Where were they? He hoped to God they hadn't floated into the fire.
He was interrupted by a cough and turned to see his friend holding the precious papers in one hand, bundled neatly and tied by the same ribbon James had stolen from Fanny on an evening stroll home from the assembly rooms. In the other hand was a generous amount of amber liquid. Gingerly, James rose to his feet and staggered to his friend. Taking the letters and slipping them into the inside pocket of his coat, he took the preferred drink from his friend and heard Frederick say, "to Fanny." James' answer was to down the fiery liquid and wait for more. Unaware and uncaring of the passing of time or of his duties as commander; his only hope was to sink into the abyss that drink offered.
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James woke to the smell of fresh bread baking and the distinct breeze of autumn. 'Such a wonderful life', he thought to himself as he sat to stretch on the side of his bed. As he looked ahead, he saw a window (that hadn't been there before); moving over to the sill he looked out to see the rolling green hills of Dorsetshire. 'Oh!' James thought with surprise, naturally assuming he slept deeply enough to disorient himself. Looking upon home with a sense of comfort and pride, he breathed in the crisp morning air.
James was next alerted to singing come from outside the bedroom door.
Christ the Lord is risen today, alleluia
Sons of men and angels say, alleluia!
Drawn to the beautiful voice, James began walking toward the melodic sound.
Raise your joy and triumphs high, alleluia,
Sing, Ye heav'ns and earth reply, alleluia!
James began to hum along to the hymn as he rounded the corner to the kitchen of the simple cottage.
Lives again, our glorious King, alleluia,
Where, O Death, is now your sting? Alleluia!
James sucked in a breath as he saw her. "Fanny!" He cried as he rushed across the room and gathered his love into his arms. Her smell, the softness of her hair, the fullness of her body- all was the same. "My God, Frederick was wrong-you're here."
Fanny let out a hearty laugh as she pulled James in for a long and loving kiss. James folded his hands through her hair as he pulled her body closer to his and laughing with the relief of a man whose greatest treasure had once been lost, but now was found.
The room grew dark and thunder rolled from the outside hills and into the kitchen, vibrating through James' body and setting his hair on end. Fanny quickly broke the kiss and darted to the window, looking outside.
It was this that caused James to see what she was wearing; a shapeless linen robe, the colour of the sea before the dawn. Her skin had a golden glow that it had never known before.
Their eyes met, hers reflecting agony and regret. "I was free to come but I don't have much time."
"What do you- "
"Please. Let me finish." Fanny held out her hand to James but dropped it before they touched. "I love you. Another commands my devotion now, as He commands all who come to Him. I needed you to know though, that I love you and I regret nothing. We were right to wait."
Both James and Fanny jumped as another roll of Thunder travelled through the air.
Before James' eyes, Fanny transformed into a cat and leapt through the window. Running to the window, he saw her standing on the grass outside. The wind was whipping around them both, robbing James of the air he needed to speak.
Fanny called to him above the sound, "I'm sorry I couldn't wait!" Her voice broke, "please turn away, you cannot see this." James instinctively turned, knowing his eyes could not see.
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James let out a cry as he sat up in his bed, gasping wildly he looked around the cabin and locked eyes with a dishevelled Frederick, who had been startled out of his chair.
Frederick pushed a tumbler of water into his hands. James downed the cup and knowing the dream was a parting, he allowed the boundless waves of grief wash over his soul as he cried himself to a dreamless sleep.