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Apr. 18th, 2008 09:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bardic_ladySo, last night, I accidentally wrote a snippet of Hornblower fic. This is literally a 'did you trip or something?' bit. I was minding my own business and suddenly Horatio and Archie were conversing in my head. So, here you are.
Title: The Return of Lieutenant Hornblower
Author: Vavia
Rating: PG, unless you go PG-13 for mentions of naughty
Gen
Set during "The Frogs and the Lobsters"
Author's Note: Jessamyn, Jessalyn, Jessalove, a wee gift since you feel crappy.
“Ah, yes, Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower, back from yet another conquest in the countryside. Another maiden fallen to the best of the Royal Navy. It breaks the heart.” Archie took Horatio’s coat from him, brushing away the dust of the French village, and hung it on the makeshift rack, grinning cheerfully at his best friend.
“Yes, all right, Archie, you’ve had your fun. Leave it be.” The tall dark officer ducked his head to look in the glass Styles had set up and ran his fingers through the unruly curls at his forehead, only managing to disarray them further.
“I can only imagine what a sight it must be, the heroic officer striding across the desolate soil of France, seducing women left and right, leaving them grateful for but the touch of his…” He took a look up and down and opted for the less lewd, “slender, sail roughened hand.” Archie’s laughter was always infectious and he chortled unabashedly here, enjoying the faint flush of color on Horatio’s cheek. He settled himself on the cot provided to him as an (acting) officer and waited for Horatio’s rejoinder.
The man in question turned away from the mirror, the curls given up as a lost cause, and smiled back. “Good God, Archie, you’re practically poetical this morning. Did you slip something extra into your tea, or does the brave Acting Lieutenant Kennedy have some bed sport to report as well? Don’t tell me there are women who trek all the way out here?”
With a long-suffering sigh, Archie sprawled back on the cot and began unbuttoning his jacket. The days in France were significantly hotter than in Plymouth where Indefatigable had previously been stationed, and since he had no duty for several hours and was in the privacy of his own grubby little tent, he saw no reason not to relax and avoid heat prostration.
“Come on, then, Archie, what’s put you into such a pleasant mood? It cannot be the accommodations, nor the company, and I find it difficult to believe that Lord Edrington has in any way brightened your stay here, and Colonel Moncoutant is even less likely to provide you with reason for cheer, so there must be some other cause, some other ephemeral leading to the air of…insouciance you now display.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Horatio. I spent the night here, on guard against the possibility of French rebels, as you yourself ordered me to, and arose this morning after a very poor slumber. I had my tea, conveyed the continuance of your orders to Matthews, and retired here to my tent, where you found me only a few moments ago, engaged in correspondence with my father.” The whole speech conveyed an air of ‘so there’ that is nothing if not becoming on the cherubic young face.
Title: The Return of Lieutenant Hornblower
Author: Vavia
Rating: PG, unless you go PG-13 for mentions of naughty
Gen
Set during "The Frogs and the Lobsters"
Author's Note: Jessamyn, Jessalyn, Jessalove, a wee gift since you feel crappy.
“Ah, yes, Lieutenant Horatio Hornblower, back from yet another conquest in the countryside. Another maiden fallen to the best of the Royal Navy. It breaks the heart.” Archie took Horatio’s coat from him, brushing away the dust of the French village, and hung it on the makeshift rack, grinning cheerfully at his best friend.
“Yes, all right, Archie, you’ve had your fun. Leave it be.” The tall dark officer ducked his head to look in the glass Styles had set up and ran his fingers through the unruly curls at his forehead, only managing to disarray them further.
“I can only imagine what a sight it must be, the heroic officer striding across the desolate soil of France, seducing women left and right, leaving them grateful for but the touch of his…” He took a look up and down and opted for the less lewd, “slender, sail roughened hand.” Archie’s laughter was always infectious and he chortled unabashedly here, enjoying the faint flush of color on Horatio’s cheek. He settled himself on the cot provided to him as an (acting) officer and waited for Horatio’s rejoinder.
The man in question turned away from the mirror, the curls given up as a lost cause, and smiled back. “Good God, Archie, you’re practically poetical this morning. Did you slip something extra into your tea, or does the brave Acting Lieutenant Kennedy have some bed sport to report as well? Don’t tell me there are women who trek all the way out here?”
With a long-suffering sigh, Archie sprawled back on the cot and began unbuttoning his jacket. The days in France were significantly hotter than in Plymouth where Indefatigable had previously been stationed, and since he had no duty for several hours and was in the privacy of his own grubby little tent, he saw no reason not to relax and avoid heat prostration.
“Come on, then, Archie, what’s put you into such a pleasant mood? It cannot be the accommodations, nor the company, and I find it difficult to believe that Lord Edrington has in any way brightened your stay here, and Colonel Moncoutant is even less likely to provide you with reason for cheer, so there must be some other cause, some other ephemeral leading to the air of…insouciance you now display.”
“I’m sure I don’t know what you’re talking about, Horatio. I spent the night here, on guard against the possibility of French rebels, as you yourself ordered me to, and arose this morning after a very poor slumber. I had my tea, conveyed the continuance of your orders to Matthews, and retired here to my tent, where you found me only a few moments ago, engaged in correspondence with my father.” The whole speech conveyed an air of ‘so there’ that is nothing if not becoming on the cherubic young face.
