The Ghost They Whispered Of

the-empires:

The fire crackling in the hearth of the withdrawing room held Bram’s distant interest as he mused to himself. Five months had passed since the revered sea officer’s disappearance – and not a witness nor accessory nor behaviour of discontent could account for his whereabouts. The major had a strong opinion of Hornblower; he thought the seaman was eccentric and untoward and playfully insubordinate, but cowardly was not and never one of them. Of all the men he would think would desert, Hornblower was the very last.

Desertion was a weak explanation, however. If he wanted to leave the Navy and it’s clutches ( an ambitious task, indeed ), there would be no reason for him to return. Wherever Hornblower had run off to was, no doubt, a better option than returning to be executed as a traitor. Bram did not think Mister Hornblower was a fool, either.

No, there was something quite strange afoot.

He leaned back on the tufted back of the chaise, letting his winding thoughts burn in the fire as he awaited Mister Hornblower. The maid set a silver tray down on the wooden accent table and glanced to the master of the house, opening her mouth as if to ask how he wanted his tea. He cut her off, dismissing her politely. When she did not react how he intended, Bram clarified and thanked her for her work and told her to go home early. She blinked with surprise and a smile, leaving the drawing room quickly.

He took the teapot, white porcelain with flowering forget – me – nots crawling from the handle to the spout, and poured himself a cup of tea. The ceylon leaves gave the hot water the hue of an Indian summer, golden, nearly amber in its strong hue. Bram dropped a perfectly shaped cube of sugar in the teacup just as Hornblower entered, looking every bit the gentleman he had been.

Bram waved away Hornblower’s gratitude with the silver teaspoon.

A wistful smile grew on his face as the man went on. Where the Devil has he been?! It’s a question he’s sure he’s not the first to wonder and is confident he will not be the last to think it, if he knows anything about Hornblower. “It’s so very queer, Mister Hornblower,” he said after taking a sip of tea with an air of well – refined insouciance. “One of the Navy’s finest young officers vanishes without a trace, leaving us to believe you simple fell of the end of the world … or deserted. Neither can be so, though. I have always taken you for a man above such childish acts of cowardice and treason. I am eager to learn the truth, if you will tell it.” His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised the man, who, even after a thorough bath and donning expensive clothes, still possessed an air of wildness about him. “Would you care for some tea?”

“To think your half of the tale is the tame portion,” Horatio offered softly, “Queer does not even begin to describe my life since I was hauled from the Indefatigable.” His choice of words deliberate – he had not had any choice in the matter of his leaving the service, but now was not yet the time to get into it. Instead he smiled, and chose to accept tea with grace first, admittedly needing the heat in his stomach to strengthen his resolve against the cold English air, and the unsettlingly fragile refinement by which he was now surrounded.

He still retained proper etiquette – if, perhaps, more pronounced than it used to be, for the sorts of civilized men he had dealt with in the Caribbean were even more uptight than the ones today, to put matters rather mildly. In comparison to the man of – by Edrington’s recollection – mere months ago, however, it was a great deal more natural. The stiffness and displeasure was gone from him, and he seemed to ease into matters as if he had been taking part in dignified ceremonies such as this the whole of his life.

“You are of course quite right in your assessment – desertion has never been in the cards, and I’ve too great a loyalty to my king and country for treason.” Horatio wasn’t even sure if that was true, but he had loyalty to men who did hold the crown as absolute and that would simply have to suffice. Furrowing his brow, Horatio carefully lowered the china cup to its home upon the saucer and confessed, “I am afraid the tale itself is – very troubling, and has potential for great impact on our nation if only it might be heard by the appropriate parties. Unfortunately politics – as you may recall – are not my strongest suit.” Diplomacy was not a game he had played well in the past, though he was rather adept at its trickery now.

Meeting the other man’s gaze, there was no lie in his earnest manner now, for his desperation was quite real. If this venture failed, he would have no choice but to go about matters above and beyond the law – and he didn’t want to take such actions if he could in any way help it.

“I would like to tell you everything, the whole of it in fact, though I must ask that you bear with me. I have means of proving my words, but what I need first is to impress that I have only the desire to return to my station aboard the Indefatigable, or whatever ship our Navy deems most applicable. I have no wish for the truth to be known beyond where it would be most useful, and I have no notion of where to begin on that score – but I do know that you are a much more diplomatic person than myself, and perhaps with your understanding of both the present climate and my tale, you may perhaps be kind enough to direct me in what I ought to do next for the sake of our security in this blasted war.” The last thing England needed, after all, was Napoleon with a witch at his disposal – or any of the artifacts in which Horatio was tasked to reawaken.

To Love What We Die For

the-empires:

_{“No,” Bram said, almost too sternly. It was pitiful, his meager attempts at controlling himself. Everything he said came out fleeting and distressed. He guarded himself, leaving Theodore to do the hard work. There was no way Bram could continue like this, holding his heart out to Theodore just to snatch it back every time the man came close. “Listen to me.” It felt like an order, but, miserably, it was far from such.}

_{“You must -” he cut himself off and tried again. “I want you to understand that I have never done this before, whatever you might define this as. There has nary been a moment in my life where I did not know exactly what my actions were and what my purpose in doing so was. Mister Groves, I don’t know what I am doing and, even coming here and saying these blasphemous things to you, I don’t know what I hope to gain from this, but, nevertheless, I will confess.” He turned from his place of retreat to the couch as a trio of men lingered in the hall just outside the door. From their conversation, there was little intention of leaving any time soon. Bram stood before the coat rack beside Theodore and kept his voice low, brown eyes staring anywhere but the man of his affections.}

_{“You have been my downfall since the day we departed from each other. You haunted me. Your smile, your laugh, the outrageous things you spoke of, the …” Bram’s voice fell away and his heart thundered in his chest. His mouth was dry with protestation, but he forced himself onward; he would not let Theodore slip through his fingers. “The feeling of your body against mine.}

_{“Though it pains me so, for I know we can never be more than what we are now, I feel I cannot deny myself the sweet, sinful knowledge that I love and am loved in return.” Bram sighed and pursed his lips.}

_{His heart had never been bared, never been surrendered to the terrifying whims of Venus, for he had never before needed to bare it. “My conflict makes for poor company, but I would like you to stay, lest I forever wonder what could have become of this.”}

Perhaps to any other man, Bram’s internal conflict and its devastating results would prove maddening. To be pushed away and grasped at in turns, to be told how deeply they mattered in the same breath as how naturally nothing could come of it, would surely have been a positively heartbreaking experience and possibly, not worth the pain of it.

Theodore, however, was not quite the average man. He did not despair or rejoice for the words he was offered but rather took them for the whole that they were – complicated and vulnerable in turns. He smiled reassuringly, wanting Bram to feel comfort in the wake of such powerful admissions that doubtless cost him a great deal to profess.

“Your conflict is honest – and honesty is always good company in my books,” Theodore assured, holding to his chest the warm knowledge that he was loved, even if it was a complicated sort of love. Knowing in his heart that he haunted Bram was a strange feeling – he wasn’t the sort of person who let himself be haunted – if he loved, and was loved, then surely that was all that mattered.

Bram was a different sort of man from the sorts Theodore usually fell for, and he supposed this strange dance was simply a part of loving a man who truly loved back. Or maybe it was simply the difference in loving a man who was good at heart. Such thoughts only endeared Bram to Theodore all the more, of course.

“I do believe it might look strange for us to have gotten up like this, only to return to our game,” He pointed out, gently aware of the cost of appearances for men like Bram. “Might I propose we go for a walk together, and perhaps clear our heads?” Theodore had no need – he was thinking just fine – but he had a feeling Bram could benefit from an environment that had less of a sensation of eyes upon him.

River Run Red

@the-empires continued from [x]

Daniel had received the intelligence through one of Theodore’s middies, and had acted immediately, directing his men and Theodore’s into position before gathering a small contingent of men to race back and retrieve the stolen first lieutenant. Word of the major’s presence and direction had come from the scouts he sent to find any word on Theodore’s keepers, thus resulting in their present position.

There would be little point in rescuing Theodore if the lot of them faced court martials for doing so, and orders from a major – while unorthodox – would be a not entirely unheard of recourse for their actions. Thinking steps ahead like this was precisely how Daniel had managed similar matters in the past – and he doubted it would be the last.

The trick of it of course, being whether or not Lord Edrington would want to attach his name to this in any way, shape or form. This would hardly be the first time Theodore tangled with a man who saw no value in him outside of risky pleasures, something to be cast aside the moment difficulties arose. Nor would it be the first time Daniel had encountered a Lord who valued his name and reputation more than any human being, least of all one who might tarnish it simply for existing. Edrington’s care for Theodore was a slim fucking chance, and he knew it – but it was a chance worth trying.

“Theodore has confided in me for two reasons,” Daniel knew that the fact he was even aware of this secret was cause for Theodore to be abandoned as a confidentiality risk. “The first is simply the fact he will not confide in any other person, because he wisely does not trust people to hold secrets on his behalf. He knows my secrets – and in turn, share’s his own. Our destruction is mutually assured, and so you in turn can be certain that this is not blackmail. Theodore would be sure to ruin me if I put you at risk,” Daniel sounded almost amused by this, “His is a heart that cares tremendously, even if perhaps it ought not to.”

It was here that his expression grew grim, and Daniel’s tone shifted to one of warning. “As the second reason would be that these inclinations of his have nearly killed him in the past. Not for lack of secrecy, so much as a horrible judgement in character. I have never known him to be endangered by the law, so much as by the men he chooses.”

Here, it was clear Edrington had fallen in with a historical precedent of terrible choices and even worse results, because Daniel’s next words indicated a rather tired understanding. “I do not expect this to come as any comfort to you, and will only ask that, should you choose not to aid us, you do not act against us. I have no intention of telling Theodore I came to you, so he will have no reason to think he lacks value to you should we succeed without your support.

The Ghost They Whispered Of

the-empires:

_{“Hmm,” said Edrington, seemingly unamused. “I would be honoured nonetheless by your presence from beyond the grave.” As much as it would have been easier to, he knew he could not turn the man away. Good hospitality was not only a passion of his, but simply a way of life. And though Edrington wondered what was left of the man that served, he would never turn away an officer to His Majesty’s Navy. Edrington was no blaspheme.}

_{However, his genteel code was pushed to the brink; he was wary of the wild man that turned up at his doorstep. Bram could hardly blame the maid for not wishing to answer the door, and he would not fault her for feeling so. Hornblower’s unkempt appearance ( a grandiose understatement ) pushed him far from even the very fraying fringes of society – any society. Save piracy, perhaps. Surely, Hornblower would not drift so far, no matter where the winds of life pushed him. Edrington simply did not know the trials that could push one to being such a scoundrel.}

_{“I suppose you should come in and sit and I’ll have my maid pour out for us.” Edrington figured that, Hornblower allowing, he would quarter him at his estate until he could get word to the Admiralty about their missing pup and further action could be taken. Action being a court martial, most likely; who was to say where this young man had gone and why when his person belonged to the British Navy? In the meantime, he could make himself presentable to befit anyone who was allowed a room in Lawrence Bram Edrington’s home. “Perhaps a bath would do you good, as well. New clothes, too, if you wish.”}

Horatio’s lips twitched slightly – Edrington’s diplomatic manner had not changed in the slightest. Though he supposed that was understandable, considering the time that had passed for him was so much shorter than the time that had travelled for Horatio. Regardless, he had a feeling Edrington would be far from honored to be pestered by any ghost, let alone the one of Horatio Hornblower. Still – a genteel sentiment, if nothing else.

At the offer of tea and a bath, Horatio could not help but look relieved. “I would greatly appreciate a bath, and some proper attire,” He assured, knowing full well his appearance was a fright. He had no objection to his clothes – in fact he was quite fond of them, and in the Caribbean he would hardly be amiss even now. Here, however, in the height of English gentry, it was best to appear as appalled as he was certain Edrington felt.

Hospitality proved to be an impressive rule on the Edrington estate, for Horatio found his needs tended to with a sort of strict efficiency that seemed quite suited to Edrington’s no nonsense personality – even in kindness, everything was done with brisk exactitude, as though these courtesies were little more than expectation. Horatio supposed for Edrington, they were just that – acts that were expected of a man of his station to be capable of providing.

Bathing took a longer time than Horatio might have liked, and he could not help but grimace at the grime his body left in its wake. There was a certain difference between what was acceptable in English society and what passed for good enough in the Caribbean. Horatio remembered all too well the exacting nature of his proper time period and washed up accordingly, which naturally meant a great deal more process than he had needed to bother with in some time.

He felt strangely ill at ease once all the kohl, paint, ash and other markings of his life had been stripped away, leaving behind a body that bore little sign of its arcane nature once made bare of all such trappings. In the mirror, Horatio could see his age starkly – not just in the length of his hair, but in the wear of his eyes and the fitness of his form. He was fuller than before, more defined than in wiry youth, and it made him glad of the clothes that would conceal a large portion of his truth.

Once dressed, Horatio carefully concealed his belt’s contents upon his person, and took time to brush his hair out so as to not appear completely wild despite the fine dress. After some consideration, he made use of one of his hair ties to keep it all drawn back at the nape of his neck for some semblance of propriety, and considered that to be well enough before he made his way down to meet with Edrington for tea and doubtless, some manner of discussion.

This, of course, would be the more difficult portion. Horatio needed to prepare himself for questioning, as doubtless the sensationalized manner of his disappearance and his sudden return were grounds for suspicion of desertion. The obvious matter of time would likely go overlooked – magic was widely dismissed in this era, and that a man could go ten years while barely a single year passed for the rest of the world was too much to bear, Horatio was quite certain.

But he needed the admiralty and his old position – it would make things ever so much easier – and his best chance at obtaining those things would be convincing Edrington of his tale – and seeking his advice on how to manage something so political as this. The navy and the military were not so different on account of matters such as cowardice and desertion – if he could convince Edrington he possessed no cowardice, and had not chosen to desert, then perhaps he had some manner of hope ahead for an easy path.

Upon reaching the drawing room, Horatio painted on a grateful smile – and it was true, his gratitude, though the smile felt wrong on his face without the tightness of salt and kohl crinkling against his eyes in the action. Some part of him also registered that his old stoic self had smiled so rarely, it was possible the action might make a stranger of him all over again.

“I cannot begin to thank you enough, my lord,” Horatio professed as he took his seat, the title coming naturally and with due deference – something his old self had railed at, and managed quite often to avoid using at all times ( and always sounding terribly stiff about it, rather than at ease with the social distance between himself and the major ) but Horatio had since spent a decade learning the value of respecting a man’s pride in his title only so far as needed to manipulate him through it.

“It’s been far too long since I’ve been able to enjoy the comforts of a civilized society,” Honeyed and earnest words came easily to him, and there was truth enough behind them to cast little doubt. “I fear I may be out of my depth with all that has changed,” And here, he offered the window for investigation openly, leaving the power to direct in Edrington’s court, where doubtless it would be most comfortable.

👄– kissing them on their jaw ( to theo !! )

{ Nonverbal Starters }

Theodore would never deny how deeply it pleased him when Bram would shuck aside his nerves and initiate matters, for he always had such sweet ways of beginning what could at times become rather rigorous exercises in passion. Other times, these little displays were nothing more than placating actions, and Theodore was only too glad to allow himself to be manipulated into calm so that Bram could be frustrated and sharp without fear of repercussions later in the day.

( In truth, Theodore had a feeling Bram didn’t even know he was manipulating matters when he did so – it just came and went, his bad moods and his good ones, with no true recollection of having used a good mood to garner smooth sailing through a terrible one )

All of this culminated into reasons why Theodore adored Bram so deeply – they shared in something that was intimately their own, but the men the world had made them to be were not compromised because of it. His lover was still every bit the incomparable, collected lord of Edrington, a man of impeccable standing in society and respectable ( if at times questionable and terrible ) military advantage.

He could be cold – astonishingly aloof in a world so passionate in it’s whipping around him – and he could be unyielding and devastating in turns. There was a thread of steel in his spine that Theodore adored, even when it could at times turn itself upon him as the weight of the world settled too heavily upon familiar shoulders.

By contrast, Theodore was as warm and malleable as ever to the fates he found himself facing. He challenged convention at every turn, and faced battle with the economic mind of a man who would see it finished not for glory, but for the interest of the adventure after it. He lived a life that lacked regret, and it made him stand out among his companions in ways that were not always complimentary.

Perhaps it was a touch of Theodore rubbing off on Bram in these moments, when the whole world seemed to grow still and all that mattered was the joy they shared together. Just as, sometimes, Theodore thought a little of Bram had rubbed off on him when he found himself directing something with more grace than usual.

Either way it mattered little to Theodore as he hauled Bram up in answer, setting him on his desk almost primly, and answered his gentle start with an unquestioning passion. They had all the time in the world, and he fully intended to utilize it as he anchored himself at his lover’s hips and began to kiss his neck with unbridled adoration.

The Ghost They Whispered Of

@the-empires continued from [x]

Five years in the Caribbean had committed dramatic changes to Horatio Hornblower. He had reached a point in which he did not chase the way back fervently, for the chances were that he would have nothing to return to should he manage to find a means of returning to his proper timeline.

Having followed his mentor’s instructions on what he intended to be his last attempt, Horatio had found himself abruptly transported back to what he recognized almost vaguely as England. His attire was out of place, his questions avoided by men and women who gave him alarmed looks and wide berths. His shirt was nearly a century out of date, his hair was loose and wild at his elbows and his skin was dark next to those who spent life so far from the sun. His pants were belted by a colorful sash, a cutlass, and a series of pouches. A knife hilt could be seen in his boot.

He understood their alarm when he saw his reflection in a shop window – but that understanding did not satisfy his need for answers. Eventually, through a paperboy who seemed to think he was a pirate and was only too excited to talk to him because of that misunderstanding, Horatio gleaned that he had been gone five months ( so short a time in exchange for the understanding he had obtained! ) and was apparently some strange ghost story now. Finally, he learned he was in – of all places – Berwick-upon-Tweed.

There was a significance to it he could not place until he asked who the lord in charge of the region was, knowing his best bet of restoring himself would be approaching matters in the most direct fashion. It was with relief and trepidation both that he made his way directly to the manor house of Lord Edrington – a man he remembered as duty-oriented and far wiser than he in the ability to hold a tongue in check.

Turning to him felt strange, but he could hope, at least, that he would be recognized enough his tale would bear some merit. Although, he supposed his method of greeting was lacking – years with pirates who needed the obvious handed to them on a silver platter did take a bit of a toll. “Yes I – suppose my being here rather proves it. You’d be an odd choice to haunt,” He offered, smiling a moment despite the fact they’d never had a rapport close enough for jesting.

Sobering, he spread his hands in a placating manner, before confessing, “I honestly do not know what to do. I heard where I was, and it made sense to speak to the one person who might know me. I’m afraid I hadn’t thought past that point.” He had – but there was no easy way of getting to it, and if Edrington had no interest in assisting him with the most basic of things, there was certainly no way he could expect more, so why lay every card on the table?

To Love What We Die For

the-empires:

_{If he closed his eyes, the warmth of the hearth could be mistaken for the hint of the heat that the Kingston sun beat down on them. The air was balmy and the sound of waves crashing on the sand was always within earshot. An icing of humid wax hung to the broad, vibrantly green leaves of the flora, shushing together in a distinct sound as the pair wandered along the paths together. Being with Theodore made the heat just the more warm. The memory brought a smirk to his lips.}

_{His eyes opened and he felt confined in the dim light of the empty room. Cold rain beat against the building and he shivered momentarily. He studied Theodore, brown eyes narrowing as he watched him put his outer clothes to leave. As much as he wanted to be left alone to catch his breath, Bram did not want Theodore to leave him. But then again, he could not voice that. Did that make him weak, or was it a show of his lack of strength?}

_{He realised that now would be an appropriate time to admit his own emotions for Theodore, but he could not do that either. He wished he could. Theodore said that he was special. What part of him was so, he wondered. There were only two things that Bram had ever been told were remarkable about him: his purse and his mind. Not…him. As refreshing as it was to hear that he was more, it was terrifying.}

_{“There’s no need,” he croaked, a weak attempt to keep Theodore from doting upon him even further in fear that he might explode. “Are you leaving so soon?” The Earl asked, trying to seem nonchalant, though his protestation burned through the thin veil.}

@oceanfoamed

Lips quirked themselves into a smile, though it seemed even in this he was perhaps conflicted as only one half tilted upward. It was rare, for Theodore’s smile to become a lopsided thing – generally a sign that he wanted to smile but recognized that the timing was off just enough to restrain the brightness of it. He could tell that Bram was unbalanced as much by the honesty as by the potential for more of the same kind, and though he knew he could have delivered if prompted, a part of him was warmed by the awkward refusal. There was a humility in it that was pleasant, though he was wise not to comment on that, either.

“I had thought you would want me to,” Theodore was no more willing to lie now than he had been moments ago. Considering the topic of their conversation and the sharp dramatics with which Bram had responded ( which were unlike him enough to hold their own power ) it had seemed to him wise to both cover for the man and to retreat from him until he determined what it was he wanted out of their friendship going forward.

He lowered his gaze to the board thoughtfully, considering as much the game ahead as his role in it, before he glanced up and met Bram’s eyes squarely. “I’m not opposed to staying, if you desire it – but you have no obligation to allow it, either. What you choose changes nothing in the long run. We can pick up the game where we left off, whenever you feel comfortable doing so.”

The Trick To Breaking Hands

@the-empires continued from [x]

A lopsided smile lit across aging features at this assertion, gnarled hands shifting against the polished wood of the cane upon which his balance so intimately relied when he was not sitting to tea. The ferocity in her reminded him once more of his dear sister, warm against the bitter chill of his chosen exile.

He knew her father disapproved of their talks – that indeed, the Lord Edrington held him in nothing short of disdain – which naturally meant his wilful daughter would do all in her power to converse and walk with him as often as she could. And he supposed, even as his words were spoken, that it might in part be due to the controversial advice he so often found himself offering Philadelphia.

“Sometimes there is merit to calculating precisely how to break it – and holding on to that knowledge until such a time as unleashing it can bear the most satisfying fruits.” Reaching out the steadier of his two hands, Andre picked up his tea and drank in quiet contemplation a time, before lowering the cup and pretending he didn’t notice the way the liquid shivered, or the multiple soft tings as porcelain quaked against itself as the cup settled into its place on the saucer.

“Other times, it is good to simply show you can break it – for that alone, often causes enough question to quiet the condescension so common in those who believe themselves so untouchable.”

Smiles Of Winter

the-empires:

_@oceanfoamed

_{Bram’s eyes danced in the absence of a smile; it had always come easier to him. All of his adult life leading to this moment and the next had been grim – faced. Smiling simply was not his nature.}

_{He set the book down on the mantle of the adjacent fireplace, fingers running across the raised, gilded hard cover as he did and lent Theodore his full attention. Edrington enjoyed the silences they shared greatly. There was something to say about the correlation between the great depth of truth two people have in each other and the quietude they may indulge in together. Mornings would be spent sifting through papers and returning mail sitting side by side and not saying a word for hours. Chess games passed with little more than a grunt of acknowledgment or a murmur of thought. It was in silence that their love solidified.}

_{However, it was in conversation that their love grew.}

_{“Does colour mean so much to you?” Bram asked sincerely, abandoning his post by the bookcase to stand behind Theodore, rough hands rubbing knots from his shoulders lazily. He could already guess the answer; Theodore had much higher artistic IQ than he. His personality was vibrant and dynamic as an Indian summer, whilst Bram could be content living in a monochrome winter.}

Theodore could always tell, the moment when Bram’s mind shifted itself from welcoming silence to challenging the world to prove itself to him. He had never once been a man to question his right to stand where he did – instead, he was the kind to mold opposition to suit his wit or fall before it. It was one of the many reasons Theodore did not often worry about him – he was the kind of man who would be found standing amid the rubble and, as the dust settled, find the words to make a victory of defeat none would question.

It was in the moments before he found those words that Bram was on a level with the rest of the world that moved around him. In those moments when he questioned himself, when he questioned his orders, when he questioned the war – when he questioned – he was rendered human as the wings of his privilege fell away and left behind a man with too many burdens to bear.

Theodore loved him most in those moments, and as hands as roughened by hard labor as his own settled upon his shoulders, he knew his answer as clearly as he did his own heart. Leaning into the touch, he smiled softly as he ascertained, “It was color that drew me to you – do you remember?” A laugh swallowed, lips that twitched in the Caribbean heat as Theodore recovered from his unexpected acquaintance with a tree trunk. “I would say that color means the world to me, for without it things are just too cold and quiet. I prefer a world that laughs to one that sleeps.”