Tag: what more is there than england ( horatio headcanons )

This is a short but poignant reminder that Horatio is a crack shot. With two pistols in hand, his balance just regained, he managed to land bothshots without hesitation. Horatio’s aim, once placed, never falters.

I mention this because imagine what the story would have been like if Clayton had not panicked and knocked Horatio out that day on the Justinian.

I also mention this because it ties into Horatio’s “three fundamentals” that he felt he needed for the Navy. The ability to stomach violence, blood, death and trauma was all checked off by the time he had his sights set on matters ( he was ten when he determined he might want to be an officer, but Geoffrey dismissed it as childish whimsy. )

Secondly was the ability to swim, which he picked up at a young age thanks to Fiona. He was absolutely in love with water and swimming, and this only furthered his ambitions.

Lastly, was the ability to fire steadily. This he did not glean until he began his high education and was able to trade lessons in how to operate a pistol in exchange for concluding and overseeing mathematical equations and Greek philosophy papers.

The sound of the shot startled him and took some time to overcome, by which point he was a steady shot and certain he was Ready For The King’s Navy in every way but a full understanding of a ship beyond his theoretical book studies. He learned the hard way that one or two gunshots is nothing in comparison to the pound and pressure of canonfire or the consistent pop of steady fire, but we already knew that part.

On a “fun” aside to this devastation, as a child Horatio did not realize that limbs do not simply fall off. He was very much under the impression that losing limbs was a normal part of life and something to fear, and he had a terrible terror that his arms and other body parts may end up in the bucket for any reason, though over time came to associate loss of limb to injury and illness. Through this, the terror ebbed, though amputation was, until the day he died, a quiet internal terror.

The fun part about this is how it ties into Horatio’s natural gullibility. When he was six, a new nurse played with him rather often. One day she reached down and tweaked his nose, drawing her hand back with her thumb poking between her fingers and informed him she got his nose.

Horatio, still under the impression limbs could, in fact, just drop off, immediately started to cry. Horrified, she showed him her hands, but he did not register anything until Fiona picked him up and carried him to a mirror so he could see for himself his nose was right where he needed it to be.

This kind of gullibility never really leaves Horatio. He falls for tricks and jokes all the time because he tends to think in such a serious fashion. Childhood was never a real thing for him – so lightheartedness, jesting and good hearted trickery tend to get him every time.

Bracegirdle figured this out incredibly quickly and capitalized upon it the whole of his career with Hornblower under wing – and from time to time, Bracegirdle even convinced others to play tricks on Horatio, just so that they could see for themselves how adorably gullible the generally wickedly clever young man could be.

Geoffrey Hornblower converted his manor house into something resembling a private hospital well before the loss of his wife – in fact, it was she who aided him in designing matters, ensuring that placement of patients was optimal and would have the smallest impact on the house staff.

Initially, the main floor was set up with the foyer transformed into an office, walled with cabinets. To the left, nearest the door, the room meant to serve as a living and host area was converted into an emergency surgery with two cots available ( making it optimal for dueling related injuries ) and the walls lined with dressers filled with supplies.

The study was lined with books, though the center of the room was cots for the sick, serving as a short term med bay as needs dictated. To the right was originally the servants hall, the dining room and the kitchen, with the upper floor reserved for the bedrooms of the Hornblower family on one side, while across the way the rooms on the other side were converted.

The walls were taken out, leaving a large space that was turned into a cross between a library and a sitting room. With walls lined with books, floors carpeted, and furniture set around fireplaces. It looked more like a gentleman’s club than a living area, everything set with perfect precision – from the piano to every pillow, this was where the Hornblowers would entertain contemporaries and guests, and host parties when the need dictated it.

After the death of Mrs. Hornblower, things took a somewhat dramatic shift over time. The servants quarters were redesigned into yet more sick beds – bleeding into the dining room until the chef put his foot down and made it clear that illness and food should not so closely mix. Geoffrey moved furniture from the entertainment hall to the dining room, slowly turning it into a barricade of storage as he gutted the beautiful home his wife created and used bookshelves as walls.

In the end, he enclosed the piano and a chaise – the rest of the hall became yet more beds, yet more cabinets, yet more work to bury himself behind by the time Horatio was twelve. The servants had been moved upstairs, granted shared lodgings in the master bedroom and two others, while Geoffrey slept in his study and Horatio was left alone to his own.

In essence, Horatio grew up in a hospital as his father used work as his medication for grief. Geoffrey staffed nurses to help him tend his ever growing pool of patients, but as is the way of hospitals, he was often very short handed. Thus, at the tender age of five, Horatio found himself serving as an impromptu medical assistant.  

Being small and young, Horatio started by bringing towels ( often stacked in his arms higher than his head ) around to the nurses as well as various medical pieces at request. He was also sent to trot back and forth with water and linens, and to help wipe down sick patients. Horatio was also responsible for mopping up the floor from time to time, and taking the discards bucket outside for burning. This was particularly unfortunate as the bucket was about the same size as Horatio’s torso, and he was forced to hug it in order to carry it out and dump its contents into the pit outside.

This bucket contained removed limbs as a result of amputation – everything from fingers and toes, to full arms and legs. Needless to say, he was often troubled by nightmares and a great terror of losing his own body parts in his youth, though eventually this grew to be common far enough that it did not bother him as much.

At the age of seven he was deemed steady enough to pinch skin together for stitching, and at eight he was taught to stitch using soft leather. By the time he was nine, he could manage stitching up small wounds without his father’s assistance. Due to his overall experience with  fevers, illness, wounds, death and dying Horatio believed himself ready for Naval warfare.

Unfortunately he failed to account for the noise of battle and, being as Horatio is someone who is easily overwhelmed by an abundance of sensory input, the sounds and bangs can leave him jarred and unfocused from time to time – this is more notable early on, and is something he grows out of, but is notable at the start.

In any case, long and short of it is, Horatio is more than a mere doctors son – he is a surgical assistant and very aware of his shit when it comes to stitching, to what constitutes higher priority, all the way to what drugs to use and what ones to avoid. He is judgemental of surgeons that overuse opiates and will not hesitate to call them out on it. He will personally attend his own minor injuries rather than take time from anyone in the med bay – he knows how class dictates who is served when matters are minor and he refuses to be placed above anyone else.

Horatio grew up reading to sick people, and tending them, so he did not fear Finch or contagion, nor was he shaken by the Plague itself. To him, illness is merely a part of life, as is injury, and there is no use to panic over it.

Now in a direct departure from what ( very little ) I know of book canon, I need to discuss Horatio and his relationship with music. Amid my searching I learned that book Horatio is in fact tone deaf to the point he didn’t even recognize England’s National Anthem -and while this struck me as positively hilarious in such an absolutely patriotic young man – it didn’t fit at all with some of the notes and thoughts I had been compiling whilst going through the film series because I wanted to scream @seafaired about her son ( and consequently ended up adopting him. Whoops. )

Horatio is probably the most introverted person I have ever seen portrayed so adeptly on screen, and it immediately set me to wondering what outlets this young man could possibly possess that would allow him to stop being Atlas for a goddamn minute and just breathe – and being the lover of the most universal language that I am, my thoughts immediately fell to some sort of musical outlet.

That said, as much as he looked like choir boy material, I could not for the life of me imagine Horatio Hornblower singing in any capacity. I tossed around a few ideas before finally settling on something that would make sense for his upbringing as the son of a reputable, wealthy doctor and his background as a man of higher education – but simultaneously, something he would not have any form of easy access to while serving the Navy.

The reason for a lack of access is simple; Horatio’s growth ties directly to his achievements within the Navy and every single one of those achievements stems from him in some way overcoming social anxieties in patriotic fervor to relay plans of action. It’s easy for him to open up and socialize when there is work to be done – but he is still utterly reticent when it comes to anything about himself. If an outlet as simple as a violin or flute could be utilized, then doubtless he would have socialized all the better as music brings out passion in all souls, and ditties and shanties are all quite a bit more lively than contemporary pieces of the time. I wish to be able to explore Horatio’s journey into overcoming some of his internal convictions without an easy fallback.

Which was why I settled ultimately on piano. His access to this is limited, but it still provides an added element to him that can be used as a means of dropping his guard under the right plotted circumstance. As I said to Mani:

Everything falls away from him the moment his fingers settle upon the keys. Restraint, responsibility, propriety, inhibition — all slide from his shoulders and so long as he plays there is an exhilarating sort of passion, the unbridled, untamed tumult of his emotions bared free. It is the most honest anyone will ever see him – but when the last notes are fading there is a stillness, and a quiet.

Every single time, a soft sigh before he straightens up, stands ( bows if there is an audience ) and when he walks away he’s locked once more inside that stiff and perfect shell of a boy who would be a gentleman. Watching him play is like realizing full on how alive he truly is inside, and how much he holds back. Watching him get up again lays witness to that wildness draw back and there’s an understanding that for all the times he loses his tongue, there must be a thousand more in which he bites down until it bleeds.

And this was – to me – an intrinsic element to displaying the dichotomy between all Horatio thinks and feels in comparison to all which he actually displays and states. My threads with him are already winded things – lengthy internal exposition before one or two sentences can be wrangled forth – and I needed something that could oust him at appropriate moments, which lead, ultimately, to all of this.

Horatio considers all love he receives ( if he even perceives it as love, and not simple care and concern of good people ) as strictly conditional on his results and actions. Weakness is ill favored and frankly, unacceptable. Failures and flaws are to be kept between tongue and cheek, and god help you if you lay your heart out, because a heart holds no value. Wit does, and while he is mathematically competent, scholarly and strategically brilliant, he is wholly aware that socially, he is quite inept.

As a result of this, the idea of revealing such things as insecurities, worries, and ( heaven forbid ) fears is not only galling, it’s an act of sacrifice to do so, as he believes himself to be trading what little care and companionship he has found in exchange for soundness of mind. More often than not, he chooses to cleave to what he has, and sort things through on his own.

Horatio’s oft quiet countenance in times of emotional duress – which can, at times, turn waspish and brusque as a result of his inner turmoils – are a direct result of him feeling at once inept in a situation and desperate to do the right thing; reaching for help reveals that he lacks the ability to achieve what needs to be done and all of his self value is situated around what he has managed to accomplish on his own.

To Horatio, the respect of Pellew is as important to him as his own pride – but by his perception ( a remnant of his biological father’s upbringing for the majority of these ideologies ) any and all favor he has gleaned from Pellew has come at the price of success – which means, then, that to fail or to question, to fear or falter, is to consequently lose what has been gained. His trust in Pellew is absolute – but his trust in his worth to Pellew is conditional to his service and his ability to uphold his duty.

These same thoughts go to his men ( Matthews and Styles, whose loyalty he bought with kindness and wit, he believes he would lose if his wits should fail – so naturally, he cannot turn to them ) his comrades ( Bush followed him out of the same stringent adherence to duty he himself possesses; the man is his senior, and he does not forget this. He must, therefore, always maintain a dutiful stance and be assured in his duties, lest Bush come to doubt in him ) and even his friends ( Archie knows how weak he is capable of being; it is Horatio’s perception that because Archie knew the depth of his weakness, that the sight of him in Spain returned fits to a man who had single-handedly escaped prison on five separate occasions without incident. To Archie he has the most to prove, because he has the most to overcome in their history – so naturally, he cannot lay his insecurities on Archie’s shoulders. )

The pressure Horatio places upon himself to always stand tall, to always and continuously prove himself is devastating – if it were a physical force, a visible wall, it would be something at once monstrous and horrific to behold. As much as duty drives him, Horatio is also a deeply sensitive man, with an enormous heart that loves all who come into contact with it – and swiftly. It does not take much to touch that unguarded space within him and become another stone in his wall, another reason to march, another reason to lock his jaws and bow his head until whatever storm he faces inside of himself can pass him by. Because for as unconditionally as Horatio loves, it has been well trained from him to think that he can, in turn, be worthy of something so grand as a care that comes without condition.

Which is why, in the event Horatio were to open up, he would be doing so under extreme duress, because not only has something troubled him so deeply he would dare to speak, he is also wholly convinced that every word will cost him the person to whom he has chosen to turn. The loss of someone he holds so dear would only be acceptable to Horatio if he knew that any other recourse would cost the lives of more men. Horatio will sacrifice anything to protect those he is bound to – including himself, and what little he has managed to hold for himself, conditions or no.

March 16, 1808, age 32.

Four years after Horatio separates Bonaparte and his American wife, our last point to canon events, his story comes to a final end. This is maintained through all verses, with exception to POTC and ship related ones.

Reason being is that Horatio spends too much of his life looking for a way out of it to in fact live long in the midst of war – and short of being given reasons to live that are, in fact living, he will invariably find that backdoor out of life that appeases his sense of responsibility for marching forward.

The Hotspur had been hulled in cannonade and there were men trapped below deck as the boats were being lowered. Horatio directed his lieutenants before going below himself and working to get men out before becoming trapped himself. He went down with the ship, holding the hand of a young midshipman whose terrified eyes were the last thing he ever saw, knowing only that his grip was a sorry comfort in the face of eternity.  

While verses may be drafted making use of supernatural elements ( be it the green flash, or wandering spirit ) ultimately speaking after this point, Horatio is no longer available for interaction, though headcanons concerning his legacy may be drawn up or requested if desired.