Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Stephen Maturin was a man of two worlds: the Natural World and the World of Man. He enjoyed the beauty and danger of Mother Nature and spent his free hours cataloguing all manner of bird, beast, and insect, discovering the multitude species of sea, sky, and land. But his working hours were spent buried in the world of Humans, looking after the varied ills of his fellow Men. As a man of science, he knew that Magic existed and flourished in his beloved Natural World, and in the World of Man as well. And he was familiar with those known to tread the fine, gossamer-thread line that separated the two, the so-called Chimeras, though he had very little to do with them in his daily life.

He often met Chimeras in their Human Forms, some in their Familiar Forms. His experiences were limited, which was perfectly fine with him. He was simply a naturalist, not a…Supernaturalist. And if he did encounter one of the Chimeras in the course of his work, he simply passed them along to someone else who could offer them better assistance than he was capable of.

Over the years, Stephen had gained a few more skills to assist Chimeras when he met them. But he was never quite comfortable caring for them because his own skills were more valuable to Humans, and he didn’t want to cause harm to a Chimera unknowingly by trying to treat them as he would a standard patient. He had gotten rather good at identifying a Chimera in either Form, and there was always some habit or physical feature to give away their duality. Most often, a Chimera had some degree of heterochromia iridum, and visibly mismatched eye colour was a clear indicator of their status. There were other markers, heterochromia iridum was just one common and easily recognisable marker.

One evening, he was enjoying a walk along the beach by himself. He was looking for driftwood and shells, listening to the distant shrieking of the sea birds overhead as they sought refuge for the night. A storm was growing out on the sea, and the horizon was nearly black with it. The tide was changing as it always did. The water itself was a harsh, steely colour, and the setting sun took on the sheen of spilt blood as it reflected.

‘God be with our men tonight.’ He muttered, glancing at the mean sky. Somewhere far away, lightning split the clouds.

‘Might be a squall, might be a typhoon.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘Or worse, a hurricane.’

Thunder roared in the distance, and the first rain began to fall. Knowing he wouldn’t find anything before the storm's leading edge hit the shore, Stephen turned to head back to the nearby town of Westeray. Hopefully, he would get there before that storm unleashed its full measure.

Reaching safety didn’t take long, but when he turned to watch the storm, Stephen realised that it wasn’t just natural lightning and thunder he’d been hearing.

‘Oh, no.’ He whispered, ‘How many are there?’

Shading his eyes against the growing dark and wishing his natural eyesight was better than it was so he didn’t need a watch glass, he picked out the white clouds of no less than ten sails. Ships, ten of them, out at sea, perhaps five miles from shore where he watched. He couldn’t tell from here which navies they belonged to, and he reluctantly fetched the watch glass a friend had given him.

‘This storm is going to break them to pieces if they don’t destroy each other first!’ he muttered, waiting for a glimpse of the flags those ships would be wearing.

The sight of the Union Jack gave him a thrill and a deeper concern. There were only…four? And six against them? Spanish? Hmm, it looked like some of Bonaparte’s folk. All six were Frenchmen.

‘May they meet their makers and pay for their crimes.’ He hissed, ‘Gods be with the King’s Navy!’

Stephen was no Navy man, and while he may not have been a loyal subject of King George III, he still had a deep respect for those who signed their lives away to a service willing to take them. He had treated many sailors in his day, some with better luck than others.

The towering waves, driven by the unforgiving winds, obscured much of the action, and he sought a higher perch to watch from. Stephen watched until the sheets of rain completely obscured any view he might get of the battle, and he was forced indoors to find dry clothes, a dry fire, and food. No one asked about the battle; he suspected they didn’t know it was even happening, but they commented on the terrible weather.

‘Aye, the worst I’ve seen. May the Gods be with the King’s navy tonight.’ He shook his head briskly, focused on the bowl of hot stew before him.

‘You ain’t a King’s man!’ One of his neighbours scoffed.

‘I may not be, sir,’ Stephen looked up at the man who had spoken, a man known to pick fights with people he couldn’t always hold up against, ‘but I will never wish ill to any but those who follow that little tyrant Napoleon. I don’t suppose you would be that kind of man, would you, Mister Harper?’

The man turned a few shades of red and sputtered indignantly while his fellows rolled their eyes and nudged at each other’s ribs.

‘Then I don’t see why it should be any of your concern if I desire safety for the men of the Royal Navy on a night like this.’ He shrugged as he took a sip of wine. ‘A storm of this magnitude can break a ship to splinters in the time it would take any of us to take a decent breath.’

‘He is right, y’know.’ Someone else murmured to a neighbour, loud enough to be heard.

No one else bothered Stephen about whether or not he was a King’s man, but they certainly had plenty to say about the Royal Navy's activities in the immediate vicinity. And, as always, he listened.

Stephen heard familiar names on both sides of the engagement, but a few were new to him. Aubrey was one name he heard repeatedly, always spoken of in praise and wonder.

His Christian name was John Clarence Aubrey, but it didn’t seem that anyone close to him called him by it anymore; these days, he answered to Jack. A young Navy officer, it seemed, enough to have quite a few more years ahead of him to make a name for himself but old enough to have seen plenty of action already. At the moment, he was a lieutenant in the Royal Navy, serving aboard the HMS Ouragan.

The Ouragan was nothing spectacular, an older fourth rate a few years past her prime and terribly unlikely to bring her officers glory. She was a slow ship bound any day now for the breaker’s yard if Mother Nature or Boney’s fleets didn’t do the job for them. Privately, if Lieutenant Aubrey was half the man he seemed to be, Stephen thought the man could take a posting in nearly any ship of the British fleets and have phenomenally better fortunes.  

That night, Stephen did not sleep a wink. The storm rolled ashore and thrashed at the town, flooding the streets. A bolt of lightning struck the church and knocked the top of the steeple right off. Two houses caught fire, but no lives were lost, and further damage was quickly mitigated.

As he aided those in need, Stephen found himself focused more on the battle he had seen earlier. What had come of it? How many of those ten ships had survived to limp home? Would he see any of those survivors? Perhaps if he visited Portsmouth or any of the larger towns along the coast.

Worry about that tomorrow, dear. He told himself even as he stood on the higher cliffs, looking down on Westeray’s small harbour where fishing boats shared moorings with small barques and a few brigs. He remembered where he’d seen the ships, and the storm was all but passed by now, gone inland as a squall, but he couldn’t see anything. It was too dark and still too rainy.

Shaking his head, Stephen turned and retreated to his hotel. The rain lashed at the windows, but that was the worst of it now. Removing his wet clothes, he laid everything out to dry and used a towel to dry himself off before climbing into bed. At least it was warmer inside, and someone had kindly put a warming pan between his sheets while he’d been out. He had taken it out and returned the coals to the fire for tomorrow, but it had certainly helped.

The next morning dawned cold, foggy, and wet. Remembering the battle the night before, Stephen dressed for the weather and went out. Checking on the few patients he’d picked up last night, he ventured down to the beaches. The water was the colour of steel and choppy. There would be no fishing today. And if those Frenchmen were still in the area, it was far too dangerous anyway. The beaches were strewn with debris from the storm, and he saw several pieces of wreckage.

 ‘Oh, no.’ He felt his gut twist as he picked up a broken piece of wood, turning to the steel-coloured waves, ‘Where… where are they?’

Knowing it would be a fool’s errand to hunt down the wreckage by himself, he returned to Westeray to get help. He spread the word that a ship had wrecked in the storm, and the beach was littered with the debris of it. The hulk couldn’t be far from there, but he wasn’t about to leave it alone.

Twelve sturdy men offered their services, each of them a fisherman who spent their days on the water. They took three boats out to search from the water, and Stephen searched from land on horseback with another six villagers. He searched alone, however, focusing more on the shallows.

They had already pulled ten bodies out of the surf, and he knew in his heart that there would be more before sunset. Word had been taken back to Westeray and neighbouring Calenfell, and everyone had come out to help. There were search parties scattered along the beaches, the cliffs to search from there, and the water. Every possible venue was employed in hopes they could find something.

Because of his vigilance, because he thought to search for the wreckage, Stephen was hyperaware of every bit of debris and stirring in the shallows. So, when his horse suddenly shied from something on the tide line, he was on his knees in a flash.

‘Take my horse!’ He called to a nearby villager, ‘Take him up, away from the shallows!’

‘What is it, sir?’

‘I…don’t know.’ He studied the unusual pile of debris, ‘Just…go up again, lad.’

‘Sir.’ The boy, twelve, tugged on his forelock and disappeared.

Stephen was completely focused on what looked like a pile of seagrass tangled in a piece of rigging. Yard-tackle? He was no sailor, so he couldn’t have said what he was looking at, but it had come off of a ship.

As he tugged on the tangle of rope, tattered sail, and broken wood, something moved. Stephen froze, startled.

‘What on earth?’ he whispered, carefully using his knife to continue cutting away the tangled ropes.

Something had gotten caught in the debris; he imagined it might be a seabird. A soft, muffled whine was heard, and his heart nearly stopped. Moving quickly but carefully, he finished cutting away the rope and uncovered the most astounding discovery.

‘You’re not a bird!’ Stephen breathed, studying the bundle of wet fur. ‘What are you, then, little one?’

Knowing damn well that a wounded animal was a crazed animal, he was very careful as he handled the creature. From his initial observation, he guessed it was a Eurasian Otter.

‘Oh, what are you doing out here, then?’ He wondered, picking the creature up with great care, ‘You don’t belong in the ocean!’

It had clearly been caught in the storm last night, and he wondered if, somehow, it had been washed out to sea from its river home. He couldn’t tell how badly it had been injured, but it was in desperate need of help.

‘Mister Burrish!’ He called out to one of the team bosses, ‘Mister Burrish!’

‘Aye, Doctor?’

‘I’ve found something, sir, and must return to Westeray immediately! Can you take over for me out here?’ He retrieved his horse, pulling a length of cloth out of his saddle bag, ‘I’ll want a report of how many we pulled out of the water, how much of the ship is left, and what her name was.’

‘Aye, sir. Is everything alright?’

‘I don’t know, but…I think I found a Chimera.’ He showed Jonah Burrish the half-drowned otter, ‘Or he got washed out to sea last night by that storm.’

‘Gods save us! Is that an otter, sir?!’ Burrish looked at him in alarm as he mounted his horse, ‘What’s it doin’ all the way out here?!’

‘I don’t know. I’ll try to find out.’ He held his burden close and carefully and returned to the village.

When he reached his hotel, he retreated to his room after requesting a few specific things. Once he was alone and the supplies he had requested were delivered, Stephen retrieved a towel and laid it on the table before setting down his find. Unwrapping the wet cloth, he studied the injured creature he had rescued from the beach.

‘Oh, aren’t you a different sort?’ He breathed, touching thick, wet fur.

He knew what both species of otter looked like, had seen plenty of them in his world travels, and at first study, his rescue looked to be a hybrid. The body was typically long but sleeker than sea otters normally were. However, the fur was far denser and thicker than river otters, though there seemed to be an undercoat. The tail was longer than a sea otter but shorter than a river yet tapered like the river tail. Front feet were standard webbed paws, and back were an unusual but apparently efficient hybrid of flippers and webbed feet.

Besides the differences of his unusual little hybrid, Stephen was able to suss out a number of injuries.

‘I wonder how you got these.’ He spoke mostly to himself; the poor creature was nearly unresponsive. Not dead, but certainly not putting up any kind of fight against his ministrations.

Once he had dried off and patched up the poor thing, he laid it by the fireplace on a nest of towels, with a bowl of water nearby and a plate of fish. He had gotten dry clothes for himself and eaten something, but there was plenty of work to do. And none of it would get done until someone came for him.

He stroked the warm, slightly damp fur and noticed some unusual markings. Most otters were monotone in colour, with brown and tan fur, but there were obvious pale streaks on this one’s head, a blaze of gold. And another on the chest.

‘You must be a Chimera! Oh, what does your other Form look like then? You must be quite a sight!’ He felt a thrill at the very idea. It wasn’t every day he rescued a Chimera, and that’s exactly what he’d just done. The otter stirred, whimpering, and he touched the blaze on its head.

‘Here I am, dear. You’re alright.’ The sleek head lifted, and the otter looked up at him with the most stunning eyes; one was the blue-green spectrum and the other the green-brown spectrum.

‘Yes, you certainly are a Chimera! Look at your beautiful eyes!’ He was awestruck, ‘Oh, aren’t you beautiful? Are you hungry?’

The sleek head turned towards the fish, the whiskers quivering. He picked up a chunk of fish and held it with two fingers.

‘Here you are.’ He let the creature take the fish from him and watched it eat. ‘I’m afraid there won’t be much for you; the boats haven’t gone out this morning except to salvage that wreck from last night.’

At the mention of the wreck, the otter stopped eating and looked up at him.

‘It was a dreadful business last night, that storm and the battle all at once. I fear that one may not have been the only ship we lost.’ Stephen shrugged, keeping an eye on his unusual patient, ‘I suppose you weren’t involved in that mess, were you? I hope not.’

Content to eat and clearly feeling very safe, the otter continued devouring the fish Stephen had gotten from the innkeeper. Stephen simply observed, relieved that it seemed to have recovered so quickly. Not completely, but at least it was awake and eating something. He had encountered plenty of Human patients who did neither after such an ordeal, or did one but not the other, or did both but only the one after much badgering and threatening.

The only disturbance was a brisk, urgent knock on his door. Going to answer it, he found the innkeeper outside, Jonah Burrish at his shoulder.

‘Ah, there you are, Mister Burrish. How is it?’

‘We’ve got ten more, sir. No survivors, yet.’

‘Any sign of her?’

‘It's just wreckage, no sign of a hulk. It might be on the other side of the cliffs, but the folk of Calenfell haven’t seen anything beyond the debris we’ve all been finding. There may not be anything left of her.’

‘Do we know her name?’

‘No, sir. Haven’t found the name-plank yet.’

‘I may have to do some of my own hunting in other venues.’ He rubbed his chin and looked over his shoulder at the hearth, where his patient was drinking from the bowl.

‘We’d be mighty glad if you came back out with us, Doctor. We could use a sharp eye like yours,’ Burrish said, trying not to sound too desperate.

Stephen nodded, knowing it was better if he returned to the search. Telling them to wait a moment, he collected his coat and hat, both quite dry now, and went to the hearth.

‘Can I leave you to your devices, my dear?’ he asked his furry patient. ‘I still have so much work to do.’

The otter looked up at him, then over at Burrish and Handler, and got up on its hind legs, chattering at him.

‘If you’re asking to come along, I’m afraid my answer is going to be a very firm no.’ He said firmly, ‘You have healing to do and rushing about on the beaches is going to do you no good at all.’ That got him a shrill scolding, but Stephen just shook his head.

‘I’ve said no already, and my mind is quite made up. I’m the one who saw the battle last night and found the first wreckage this morning.’ He crouched by the hearth and looked at the indignant creature, ‘Listen to me, dearest, I am a doctor by profession. You are my patient, so you are going to stay right here and out of harm’s way. This is my intimate business, and I can’t be worrying about you as well. I’m sorry.’

An almost human sadness overcame the animal, and it dropped back onto all fours, trilling as it came nuzzling under his hand.

‘You weren’t involved in that, were you, then? You couldn’t have been?’ He frowned, ‘Well, you’re a Chimera, maybe it’s possible? Was that your ship, then?’ He got a very clear nod, the best acknowledgement he could ask for.

‘Oh, it was you. Is that why I found you tangled up in the tackle two hours ago? Oh, I’m so sorry.’ He sighed and looked at the other two. ‘Do you remember where you last saw your ship, dear?’

‘What’s on, Doctor?’ Burrish inquired, not terribly bothered that he was holding a full conversation with an animal that, by all rights, shouldn’t be able to understand him.

‘I’m not certain, Mister Burrish, but I think I have a survivor of last night’s troubles.’

‘Oh, is that a Chimera, sir?’

‘One of them. Mister Handler, would you and Mister Burrish do me a great favour and wait outside?’

‘O’ course, Doctor.’ The pair nodded and disappeared, closing the door behind them. 

Stephen looked at his unusual patient, ‘I would much prefer you stayed inside so you can rest up and heal, but something tells me you would rather be out there, trying to help.’

Stephen had an idea and fetched a map and his inkwell. Carrying them to the hearth, he spread the map on the floor and used his quill to mark the locations of the fleets from last night.

‘We are here, now. I saw your ship out here.’ He marked their location on the map as well and looked at the otter, ‘Where did you last see your ship?’ 

The otter looked over the map and then did the most remarkable thing. Dipping a paw into the inkwell, it marked on the map where Stephen had found it and another location, somewhere between where he had seen the battle last night and the beach this morning. 

‘This is where I found you.’ He pointed to the other paw-print marker. ‘You lost your ship…here? Is this where you last saw your ship?’ He got a firm, affirmative squeak and a head-bob. 

‘There were four of you. Do you know what happened to the other ships?’ A negative to that, not that he was terribly surprised. He suspected the wrecked ship might have been their only true casualty; he certainly hoped that was true. The others would still be afloat but horribly damaged and undermanned. If only he knew which ship they had lost! 

‘You clearly understand Human speech, and when you’re in your Human Form, I imagine you speak it fluently.’ He rubbed the bright blaze with two fingers, ‘If I showed you a list of ships, would you be able to mark the one you were on last night?’ He got another nod and went for a list he kept among his papers. 

His whole business, besides treating his patients' ills, was keeping an ear to the ground for various covert affairs. His status as a surgeon, in fact, made his unspoken work much easier to undertake, as it never seemed to occur to anyone that the mild-mannered doctor tending their ills was also a spy. 

So, taking the list of ships deployed between Plymouth and Ramsgate on station in The Channel and elsewhere, he set it next to the map and let his odd patient read it. Interestingly, more than one station was marked, and when he asked which one the Chimera had been lost from, one was marked twice. He looked to see which station had been marked twice, and he felt a pang of dread. 

‘You were on the Ouragan?’

Not just a nod, a trill.

‘Oh, you poor thing. You know, you might just be the only survivor. I can’t be certain, but nearly everyone we’ve pulled from the water this morning has been drowned.’

He wrote a name at the bottom of the page, the name of the Ouragan’s captain. ‘Was this man your captain?’

The look of distress said everything. 

‘I’m so sorry. I heard many good things about Captain Blakeney. If we’re fortunate, he might have survived. There’s no way to know unless I go back out there.’ Stephen stroked the sleek head, ‘You will stay right here and wait until I return. That is doctor’s orders.’ 

The only acknowledgement he received was a sad huff, and he carefully returned his patient to its nest and took his leave.

Leaving The Black Dog, he rejoined the search parties. The first thing he did was examine the retrieved dead, looking for Captain Blakeney. He didn’t see any sign of him, but Stephen knew better than to let his guard down. They would find the captain; it was only a matter of time. Alive or dead remained to be seen.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day was spent scouring the beaches and shallows, and Stephen headed up an expedition out to where he had seen the battle the night before. The place was crowded with Navy ships, which did not surprise him. 

‘What should we do, sir?’

‘Our pennant flies true; I will explain our business,’ he reassured his frightened crew. They had borrowed one of the brigs from Westeray and come out to look for the wreck of the Ouragan.

A boat from one of the ships came up alongside, and Stephen leaned over the rail to speak to the crew. 

‘No civilians here, you have to turn back!’ a man in a lieutenant’s uniform called up, ‘What are you doing out here?’

‘We’re looking for the wreck of the Ouragan, sir!’ He called back, ‘We’ve spent all morning pulling in her debris and her dead! Her last known location was here last night!’

‘What’s your name, sir?’

‘Maturin! What’s yours?’

‘Philips! Third of the Surprise, sir!’ Which would be that fine-looking sixth-rate the boat had just come out from.

‘Mister Philips, we’re on the same business! I would take a word with your captain!’

‘At your leisure, sir!’ The man saluted, and they held the boat alongside the Sea Lion for Stephen. 

‘Return to Westeray. I’ll be a few hours here.’ He told the brig’s crew. ‘I’m not with the Navy, but I know why we found debris this morning.’

‘It weren’t just a storm, was it, sir?’ One of the men asked tamely.

‘I’m afraid not.’ 

He carefully went down the ladder and kept his focus on the Sea Lion until he reached the Surprise. Climbing the ladder was nerve-wracking in good weather, but the seas were particularly unsteady the morning after a storm that had nearly become a hurricane.

Stephen made the climb carefully and slowly, taking the offered hands at the top.

‘Thank you kindly.’ He gave Lieutenant Philips a grateful smile.

‘My lieutenant tells me you have some news of last night’s battle, Mister Maturin?’

‘Captain Ferguson, sir.’ Philips offered quietly, introducing him to the Surprise’s captain.

‘Thank you, Lieutenant.’ He nodded to the lad and turned to Captain Ferguson. ‘Captain Ferguson, my name is Stephen Maturin. I’m a surgeon by trade and a naturalist by hobby.’

‘Oh, I thought I recognised you, sir.’ The Surprise’s captain, a broad-shouldered Scot with a remarkably mild accent, smiled as they shook hands, ‘We’ve met before.’

‘Aye, sir, we have. It’s been a few years.’

‘A pity, that is. So, what can you tell us about last night, then?’

‘How much do you want to know, sir?’

‘I suppose a better question might be, how much can you tell us, then.’

‘Are any of the admirals here, sir?’

‘At least one of ‘em.’ Robert Ferguson pointed to the nearby third-rate that lingered at the fringes of the group.

Stephen turned and got a good look at the ship in question. A fine-looking ship of the line, 74 guns, flying…hmm. He didn’t quite recognise the admiral’s banner flying on the 74’s rigging.

‘I beg your pardon, Captain. Is that the Theseus?’ Stephen didn’t look away from the third-rate, which he had recognised almost right away.

‘Yes, that is, sir.’

‘Whose banner is that, then? I’m no stranger to the Admiralty, of course, but I’ve never seen that one.’

‘Ah! That’s right, you would have missed it!’ Ferguson chuckled and patted him on the shoulder, ‘That’s Nelson.’

Stephen felt a tug in his chest and exhaled slowly. He had only encountered the man in question once, in brief passing in Whitehall, while calling on Lord St. Vincent on behalf of Sir Joseph. It had not been an unpleasant visit, but Stephen did not fondly remember it.

‘And, ah, when was he made, then?’

‘Ah, that would have been… let’s see, this is March?’

‘March 24^th, sir.’

‘Just last month, it was!’

‘I see. Perhaps I will call on Admiral Nelson to wish him well once this business is concluded.’

‘Aye. You’ll be wanting to explain this to him?’

‘Sooner than later, I’m afraid.’

‘I’ll be happy to take you over. Do you happen to know what’s become of the Ouragan?’

‘No, but I’ve spent most of my morning collecting her dead and the debris of her wreckage.’ He looked back towards shore, some five miles distant, ‘I can’t speak for any of the others I saw out here last night, but I counted four of ours and six of Napoleon’s lot; the storm made it difficult to track them effectively.’

‘We’ve got the Phoenix, the Icarus, and the Endeavor. Well, we know where they are, and we’ll get to seeing them returned. The one we’re missing is…’

‘The Ouragan.’

‘Aye.’

‘She’s either been wrecked or sunk. I can’t say for certain which.’ He stood aside while Ferguson ordered a boat made ready and signalled out to the Theseus.

Not five minutes later, he was climbing the ladder of the flagship, helped by a couple of ship’s boys hanging off ropes along the hull.

‘Not fond of ladders, are you, Doctor?’ Ferguson called up behind him, one hand on his ankle.

‘My apologies, Captain. I’m better suited and far more comfortable on dry land.’ He shook his head and continued his climb. All he got was a quiet chuckle. Ferguson should have remembered at least that much about Stephen, but he wasn’t insulted by the man’s amusement on his behalf.

At the top of the ladder, he pulled himself onto the deck of the flagship, taking the offered hand to get the rest of the way. A bit belatedly, he realised that he had taken Admiral Nelson’s hand.

‘Doctor Maturin?’ The man looked as confused to see him as Stephen was apprehensive.

‘Admiral Nelson.’ He offered a civilian’s salute, ‘Good morning, sir.’

‘What on earth are you doing here?’

‘You’re missing one of your ships, aren’t you, sir? One of the four that faced off against a few of the French last night.’

‘Aye, you know of that?’

‘I saw the engagement, sir. From the breakwater of Westeray. I got a slightly better view from the cliffs before the weather drove me indoors.’

‘God bless you, man. What did you see?’

‘The storm made it difficult to see, but I was able to count four of ours and six of Napoleon’s. Three have been captured?’

‘Two were captured, one escaped, and the other has been…’

‘Lost. You’re missing the Ouragan.’

‘Aye, we are. Can you give us anything?’

‘Well, most of the crew we’ve pulled from the water has been dead; we’ll be happy to give them proper honours in Westeray and Calenfell.’

‘Have you recovered any of her officers?’

‘None living, sir. Except one.’ He thought of his unusual patient.

‘Oh, praise the Ancients. Who is it?’

‘I’m not quite certain, sir. But I rescued one of her Chimera officers a few hours ago.’

‘One of…what now?’ Nelson looked puzzled, and Stephen sighed.

‘Shapeshifters, sir. I’m not certain which of them, specifically, but one of Captain Blakeney’s officers is a Shapeshifter. They’re the one I rescued.’

‘Ah. Forgive me, I forgot what that word means.’

‘It’s understandable, sir. Even Chimeras themselves don’t always use the term.’ He shrugged, ‘I wish I had better news to give you, but we hadn’t recovered Captain Blakeney before I came out, and I know nothing of the survivor.’

‘I’m going to send the rest of this squadron after the French to get our people back,’ Nelson indicated the nearby ships. ‘I had planned on joining them, but I think I would prefer to stay back.’

‘Why is that, sir?’

‘You should return to Westeray as soon as possible, you have patients to see to.’ Nelson shrugged, turning away from him, ‘Allow us to take you back to Westeray. As a favour.’

‘If it wouldn’t interfere with your duties to the Royal Navy, sir.’

‘I doubt it would. And if anyone should question, I have an answer for them.’

‘Which answer would that be, sir?’

‘I would very much like to speak to the surviving officer under your care.’ Nelson turned his head, ‘With your permission, of course.’

‘I don’t know how much you’d be able to get out of them in their current state, sir, but if you would like to see them, I cannot stop you.’ Stephen took his glasses off and wiped them clean, ‘I would be indebted to your crew.’

‘Think nothing of it, sir.’ Nelson shook his head and had the captain sent for.

A signal was thrown out for the rest of the fleet to continue on their initial mission to recover the seized ships and captured crews, but the Theseus was staying behind this time. No one seemed keen to question, but that was typical of required obedience.

‘Ay! Mati!’ Someone shouted from far across the Theseus, and Stephen turned sharply at the sound of a familiar nickname. So few people called him Mati, and most of them were family to him.

‘Jesus.’ He exhaled sharply, managing to brace himself so he didn’t get completely bowled off his feet by the man charging at him.

‘Mati! What the hell are you doing here?!’

‘Ugh. Hallo to you, Will.’ He coughed as he rocked back on his heels under the bear-hug assault from his brother-in-law, ‘Would you believe me if I told you I’m offering assistance to the Royal Navy?’

‘Hah! You?!’ Ralph Willett Miller chuckled and pushed him back at arm’s length, ‘What changed your heart, then?’

‘I’ve spent my morning clearing wreckage debris from the beaches of Westeray and Calenfell and counting the dead. I was hunting for the Ouragan’s wreck when we came upon your little flotilla.’

‘And got yourself an interview with Nelson?’

‘He’s been very civil.’

‘Not that you were ever blatantly rude to him before.’

‘You know my temper gets ahead of me at times.’

‘I married your sister, sir, of course I know!’ Miller grinned and turned to Nelson, who stood a polite distance away, observing their interactions. ‘What’s got him all sour-looking?’

‘The uncertainty of Captain Blakeney’s survival, and one of her officers.’

‘Which of them?’

‘I’m not sure of it, myself. All I know is I pulled one of them alive but injured out of the shallows a few hours ago.’

‘And you’re not sure which of them it was?’

‘One of Blakeney’s people is a Chimera, so you can imagine how I might not know exactly which of them it is.’

‘I assume you found them in their Familiar Form?’

‘Unfortunately for myself, but it might be the only way they survived last night.’ Stephen felt the dip and sway as the third-rate turned and made her way back along the coast to…

‘What?’

‘All I know is your ship is taking me back to Westeray. Does he intend to take her all the way in?’

‘Most likely beyond the breakwaters, drop anchor in the cove, take the boats in.’

‘That makes better sense. Westeray’s marina is…far too small.’

‘For a first-rate? Sure. Have you seen anything larger than a frigate there?’

‘Not while I’ve lived there, no.’ Stephen shrugged. ‘Granted, I’ve only been there six months, but the Royal Navy seems content to leave us to our own devices.’

‘Until last night.’

‘I may not be beholden to the Royal Navy, but if the Sea Lion gets word ahead of us, people’s opinion of me could drastically change.’

‘Why?’ Miller cocked an eyebrow, ‘Because you dragged back in a third-rate with an Admiral?’

‘Something like that.’

‘I suppose these people care nothing for your national identity or political leanings?’

‘Most of them could honestly care nothing at all for those things. A few have tried to pick fights with me on the subject, I never play their games.’ Stephen looked briefly over the rail and made a face.

‘You are not going to fall over the side, Mati.’

‘You have clearly forgotten my lack of coordination at sea.’

‘Well, if you do fall overboard, I’ll make sure we turn around and get you out quickly.’ Miller had the sense to keep his hands behind his back, ‘But you seem to be coping just fine at the moment.’  

‘Appearances, dear, can be deceiving.’ He took a few steps away from the rail, keeping an eye on the nearing shoreline.

They were coming along the cliffs between Westeray and Calenfell, he could clearly see the fishing boats and brigs searching for the wreck and survivors, the land-bound parties along the beaches and cliffs scouring the shallows. How many more bodies had they recovered?

As they passed the breakwaters, he looked over his shoulder towards the signal deck. Nelson and Miller were there, watching over the goings-on of the Theseus and the search efforts beyond the third-rate. Stephen spied the little Sea Lion among the boats and stifled a sigh.

He saw a signal from the Sea Lion and heard shouting. A shiver passed over his skin, and he turned sharply to his left.

‘You there, boy!’ He called out to a nearby midshipman, who turned obediently.

‘David Peterson, sir.’

‘Mister Peterson, you would do me a great service to go and see what they’re about out there. Go aloft if you must. I suspect that the search has turned up a discovery.’

‘What was they looking for, then, sir?’

‘The wreck of the Ouragan, son. She was lost last night.’

‘Right, sir.’ The lad saluted and scampered off.

‘Stephen!’ Miller called for him, and he went straight back to the signal deck.

‘What is it, then?’

‘I can’t be certain, sir. ‘He cleared the stairs in no time and looked out towards the Sea Lion and its little fleet of fishing boats. ‘I’ve sent Mister Peterson to find out. That kind of activity has me thinking.’

‘They’ve found Blakeney.’ Nelson shaded his eyes against the sun, expression grim. ‘God help us.’

‘Amen, sir.’

‘Captain, Captain! Admiral, sir!’ And there was young Mister Peterson, barrelling across the decks at breakneck speed, waving.

‘Here comes the Sea Lion.’ Stephen murmured, watching the brig come up alongside of the larger Theseus.

‘Hold the Sea Lion alongside with hooks, lads!’ Miller shouted, sending the busy crew scrambling to secure the brig properly once they were in reach. ‘They’ve got something!’

‘Alright there, Peterson.’ Stephen reached out and caught the lad as he tripped over the top of the signal-deck stairs, ‘What did they say?’

‘Got a…survivor…sirs!’ Peterson gasped, ‘I think.’

‘Aye, that they do.’ Nelson kept an eye on the Sea Lion, ‘Job well done, lad. Well done.’

‘Lean down, son.’ Stephen held the lad by the shoulder, ‘Catch your breath.’

Obedient, the lad dropped into a half-crouch, hands on his knees and head down. Stephen’s training kicked in, and he tracked the lad’s vitals. He was just excited, nothing more serious. He smiled to himself as young Peterson recovered his wits.   

As soon as the Sea Lion was secure alongside the Theseus, Stephen went down to the quarterdeck and leaned over the rail.

‘Thomas!’ He called out to the captain, Benjamin Thomas, ‘What is it? Did you find him?’

‘Someone, sir! Think it’s the captain!’

‘Alive?’

‘Yes, sir! Out of sorts, though!’

‘After what he’s been through, I imagine it’s more than just a bit out of sorts.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘Well done, Mister Thomas!’

‘What should we do with ’im, Doctor?’ Thomas called across, eyeing Nelson and Miller nervously. Stephen turned to Nelson, who nodded.

‘Have him taken ashore! I’ll meet you there! Find Doctor Whitlock and tell him what we have!’

‘Aye, sir, right away!’ Thomas saluted, and Stephen turned to the nearest crewman. Another of the midshipmen, waiting for orders.

‘Orders, Doctor?’

‘Have the men raise their boathooks, the Sea Lion is going back to harbour.’

‘Aye, sir.’ The lad nodded and barked out orders.

As they followed the Sea Lion, Stephen narrowed his eyes. They’d found Blakeney, thank the Ancients, but how bad was he? It would have to wait until he got back to dry land and had a chance to do his own examination.

A harrowing, impatient ten minutes later, Stephen left the Theseus, which had tied up along the docks of Westeray’s small harbour. Miller and Nelson were both with him, which turned more than just a few heads. The first thing he did was check in with the other search-parties, adjusting his orders to continue looking for the wreck and the dead. With Captain Blakeney found, efforts could be focused on finding other survivors, but he didn’t want the remaining dead to be forgotten.

It could be days before they had everyone accounted for, but it was an effort to be undertaken with care. And he still wanted to find more than debris from the Ouragan, if there was any to be had. The chances the frigate had sunk were not inconsiderable, but they wouldn’t know unless they kept looking. With any luck at all, Captain Blakeney should be able to give them some news of his ship’s ultimate fate.

Once he had managed the recovery efforts, Stephen took the Theseus’s officers to the practice he shared with David Whitlock. He had told Captain Thomas to bring Blakeney there because it was the best chance they had to help the man.

‘What is going on, Maturin?’ Whitlock hissed as they examined the unconscious, water-logged body of Matthew Blakeney. ‘What happened last night?’

‘A splinter of the British fleets encountered a small fleet of Bonaparte’s people; we were outnumbered and outgunned. The storm did no favours either.’

‘Jesus. What is Nelson doing here, though?’

‘I imagine he was passing through the area on his way elsewhere and stopped to see what could be done.’ Stephen glanced over his shoulder at the pair lingering a respectful but intimidating distance from their post. ‘If the Ouragan has been lost to us, Captain Blakeney is the best chance we have to learn exactly what happened. The rest of Nelson’s group has moved on to recover our missing and chase off the French.’

‘And he just decided to stay behind?’

‘Something like that.’

‘What about Miller?’

‘He’s family to me; he would have stayed regardless of duty,’ Stephen shrugged.

Once they had Blakeney stabilised, which took nearly an hour, Stephen went to report to Miller and Nelson.

‘How is it?’

‘He’ll live. He’s stable for now but still unconscious.’ He cleaned his glasses, shaking his head, ‘We’ll keep an eye on him for a few days. Someone will be with him at all hours. When he’s awake again, I’ll see about getting answers.’

‘Please do, Doctor.’ Nelson shook his head, ‘Bloody frogs caught us unawares on our own turf.’

‘Napoleon is no fool. If it’s control he wants, he’ll get it by whatever means necessary.’ Stephen sighed, ‘I’m afraid this is by no means the last time we’ll see this happen. Perhaps not so close to our shores, but it will happen again.’

‘And over and again until we find some way to stop them once and for all.’ Nelson’s expression darkened, and his voice grew harsh.

‘If you would like, sir, I’m keeping Captain Blakeney’s man at my rooms.’ He remembered Nelson expressing interest in speaking to the man he had rescued last night. ‘You are welcome to come with me now if you’d like to see him.’

‘Please, Doctor. He may be able to tell us something.’

‘I promise nothing. Unless he’s found his way back to his Human Form, we’ll be out of luck.’ Stephen shrugged and showed them the way, ‘Follow me, gentlemen.’

‘I’ll wait for your word, sir, with the Theseus.’ Miller decided to minimise their total presence in Westeray and returned to the third-rate.

‘Very well, Miller. I’ll be in touch.’ Nelson simply nodded and dismissed his captain.

The walk from the practice to The Black Dog was quiet. Not quite uncomfortable, but there was an air of shared tension.

‘It’s a shame, Maturin.’

‘What is, sir?’

‘Your loyalties.’ Nelson gave him a short look, ‘A man with your intelligence and training could be damn useful to the Royal Navy.’

‘I reserve the right to change my allegiance at any time, sir. I will never stand for the French, but you may have to do some pretty begging to get me to come completely to your banner.’

‘You could be persuaded, then.’

‘My loyalty and my allegiance must be earned, Admiral.’ Stephen said calmly, ‘I am not for sale.’

‘A man of principle, I see.’ This got a nod of approval. Stephen wasn’t seeking validation, but he suspected that Nelson had a better read on people than most. On him, especially. And he wasn’t sure exactly what to make of it.

Chapter Text

When they reached The Black Dog, Stephen held the door for Nelson and followed the man into the hotel. The conversation, which was focused on the search, died down as people recognised Nelson.

‘This way, sir.’ He murmured, pointing the way toward the hallway leading to his room.

‘Doctor Maturin, sir!’ The innkeeper stopped them as they crossed the main room.

‘Yes, Mister Handler?’ He turned to the man, ‘Is everything alright?’

‘Oh, yes, sir.’ Josiah Handler looked past Stephen to Nelson, who lingered purposefully nearby. ‘Er, yes, sir. I just thought you should know your patient woke up while you were gone.’

‘I expected as much. I’ve been gone most of the day.’ Stephen frowned, ‘Has there been any trouble?’

‘Nah, no trouble at all from ‘im.’ Handler shook his head, ‘Very polite young man, asked for some food. Wanted to know what happened.’

‘What did you tell him?’ Stephen shared a look with Nelson.’

‘I wasn’t the one to be askin’; I don’t think I know myself what went on last night.’ Handler shrugged, ‘Maggie took ‘im some food up and saw to it he needed for nothin’.’

‘She would do that.’ Stephen chuckled, imagining his patient might have gotten a bit of mothering from Maggie Handler.

‘All he asked for was dry clothes, we were able to scrape up a few things from my boys.’ Handler shrugged, ‘And she took the lad’s uniform for fixin’, it was pretty tore up.’

‘What that boy endured last night, I’m not at all surprised.’ Nelson shook his head grimly, ‘Thank you very much, Mister Handler. For the help you and yours have offered our men.’

‘Our pleasure, Admiral. And an honour, too.’ Handler, bless him, shook hands with Nelson without hesitation.

‘Was he able to tell you his name?’

‘Said it was Aubrey.’

Stephen looked at Nelson, felt a sliver of something cold in his gut. Oh, it was Jack Aubrey!

‘Thank you, Mister Handler. My thanks to Maggie, too.’ Stephen headed for the stairs, ‘If any of the hunting captains come for me, you know what to do about them.’

‘Aye, sir, I do.’ Handler watched them go, ambling off to take care of his other boarders and guests as they went around the turn.

‘Your man said Aubrey.’

‘Aye, sir, he did. And it’s just the man you’re thinking.’ Stephen exhaled slowly as they came along the hall to his door, which was shut and locked. ‘I’m so sorry, sir.’

‘He’s alive, Maturin.’ Nelson put a steadying hand on his shoulder. ‘Why are you afraid of me, Maturin?’

‘Afraid of you, sir?’ He turned to the man, wondering if he was truly that easily read.

‘You’ve been too quiet since we took you on from the Sea Lion.’

‘My apologies, Admiral.’ Stephen knew it was best to be honest with Nelson, they would likely be in intimate contact for quite a while. ‘There’s brief history between us that I do not remember fondly, and I’m sorry for that.’

‘Perhaps we can amend our differences once we’ve managed this incident.’ Nelson said quietly, ‘We were both a bit younger and more hot-headed.’

‘And I doubt either of us has mellowed much since.’ He unlocked the door and carefully pushed it open.

It was quiet inside, and he gestured for Nelson to go in first.

‘Ah, that’s why it’s so quiet.’ Nelson had seen the young man asleep by the fireplace, one of Stephen’s books open on his lap.

Stephen stepped past his guest and approached his patient. Jack Aubrey was in his twenties and strikingly handsome. He didn’t seem to fit the chair, so Stephen could only imagine how tall he was standing upright, with a broad, healthy build. His hair was the colour of his Familiar’s blaze-markings, bright golden blond, his skin a beautiful even tan that Stephen suspected extended well beyond what he could see.

‘Let the lad sleep.’ Nelson said quietly as Stephen carefully touched the boy’s wrist. ‘Gods only know what he’s been through since last night.’

‘How did he and Blakeney survive?’ Stephen wondered as everything tracked normally for a recovering patient saved from a near-drowning. Of course, knowing what he did about the lad’s Familiar, it would have taken more than last night to cause him any serious trouble. But the storm combined with the battle would be sufficient.

He hadn’t expected to spend his day marshalling recovery efforts for a missing British frigate, pulling in the dead who had washed ashore, and collecting the debris that came with them. But that is how things had turned out, and all he could do was adapt to the changing situations.

A stirring under his hand redirected his attention, and Stephen took a step back—not away, simply to give his patient some space as he regained wakefulness. Eyes that matched the otter Familiar opened with the slowness of exhaustion bred by trauma and scanned the room. Aubrey marked Stephen first, the closer of the two, and then Nelson, who stood just behind Stephen and by his left shoulder.

‘Admiral Nelson!’ Confusion warred with recognition of a superior officer, and he struggled to sit up.

‘Easy, son.’ Nelson shook his head as Stephen put a hand on the lad’s shoulder. ‘Don’t get up on my account.’

To his credit, Aubrey didn’t try to fight them on it. Stephen had met far more combative patients than the handsome young lieutenant he currently sheltered; the change was refreshing.

‘Captain Blakeney? Did you find him?’ Aubrey asked.

‘Aye, lad. The crew of a brig found him during the searches, and he’s been seen to.’ Nelson promised, glancing at Stephen, ‘He’ll live to repay the French.’

‘Searches?’

‘We found some debris from your ship, Lieutenant, and then the bodies of your shipmates.’ Stephen said carefully, ‘So far, you and Captain Blakeney are the only two survivors we’ve found.’

‘Thank God he survived, ' Aubrey said, looking sad. ‘I shouldn’t have let him do it.’

‘Do what?’

‘He…threw me.’

‘Blakeney threw you?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘From the Ouragan?’

‘He said if one of us survived, we had to make sure the Admiralty knew what we had.’

‘And what would that be, Lieutenant?’ Stephen asked mildly.

‘This, sirs.’ Aubrey retrieved something from under his leg and held it out to them.

It was a packet, the kind Stephen had seen hundreds of times. Instinct had him reaching for it, but he caught himself.

‘Take it from the lad, Maturin.’ Nelson said calmly, having seen his brief gesture.

Stephen had to mind himself around Nelson; the man was far more intuitive and observant than anyone else he’d met. For the moment, he simply took the packet from Aubrey. Reading the address on the front, written in careful script, he passed it over to Nelson.

‘I see why Captain Blakeney was so careful. It was a gamble to throw you over the rail of the Ouragan, but he must have trusted you would be able to reach shore if you survived.’

‘I’m a strong swimmer, sir.’ Aubrey said, mismatched eyes bright with defiance.

‘I’ve seen your Familiar, son. I know what you’re capable of.’ Stephen put a gentling hand on the lad’s shoulder. ‘If someone had seen you, and I suspect they must have, I would have pulled you from the water dead.’

‘They tried to, sir, but I was able to use the storm to my advantage.’

‘You absolutely were.’ Stephen knew that a combination of luck, skill, and determination had kept Aubrey alive last night.

A sharp, urgent knock startled all three of them, and Stephen caught Nelson by the wrist as he reached instinctively for his sword.

‘Stay where you are.’ He went to the door, ‘That’s Handler, it’s alright.’

‘Who is Handler?’

‘The innkeeper. You’ve met him and his wife.’ Nelson assured Aubrey that there was no reason to worry. ‘I believe their sons are the ones they borrowed from to find you dry clothes.’

‘Oh.’

Stephen allowed himself a sly smile as he pulled the door open. As he’d known, Mister Handler stood outside with unusual but not unexpected company.

‘Robert, what is the meaning of this?’ He inquired of Robert Ferguson, who stood behind Handler with a very disorientated man on his shoulder. ‘One of the Ouragans?’

‘One of her officers, sir. Just pulled him from the water not fifteen minutes ago. I thought we had better bring him back to land, you were keen enough to get a decent count of her people.’

‘Come in for a moment. I’d rather him get seen by Whitlock. I’m not equipped for the kind of help he’s going to need here.’

‘Of course not, sir.’

‘Mister Handler, help him, please.’ Stephen threw the door open and stood aside, ‘Aubrey, could you do me a favour, son?’

‘Mister Andrews!’ Aubrey had recognised the man holding onto Ferguson and rushed to help them bring him in, ‘Oh, thank God, you’re alive! Are you alright, sir?’

‘Fine, lad, I’m fine.’ The man huffed.

‘You’re half-drowned, sir. I don’t think you’re any degree of fine.’ Stephen executed a brief exam. ‘I can’t see to your care here. Handler, get down to the practice and warn Whitlock we have another survivor.’

‘Right away, sir!’ Handler nodded and vanished after a last, worried glance at the four Navy officers crowded into the sitting room. Not for much longer; he had to get Andrews down to the practice and stabilised.

‘Rob, you’re coming with us.’ He looked over his shoulder at his friend as he collected a few things from around the room, ‘Aubrey, can you help Ferguson get him to the street?’

‘Yes, of course I can!’

‘Admiral, you’re coming along.’ Stephen pocketed his key and set his hat firmly on his head, ‘Come, gentlemen.’

‘Come on, Christo.’ Ferguson took the water-logged, half-drowned man in hand again, ‘One foot in front of the other, man. Aubrey.’

‘Right here, sir!’ Aubrey took the other side, and they carefully made their way down the hallway and outside to the street.

Then it was down the two blocks and over one to the practice, where Whitlock was already waiting.

‘That’s three now, Maturin.’ The man whispered.

‘I will take three survivors, Matthew. The Ouragan carried a complement of three hundred men. If these are the only ones who lived to tell their story, it is a loss to be suffered by all of us.’

‘Jesus.’ Whitlock crossed himself, and they set about taking care of Mark Andrews.

Andrews and Aubrey were able to piece together a better picture of what had become of the Ouragan. Andrews was the company’s Master and one of only three surviving crewmembers — three out of three hundred. The fate of the Ouragan was still unknown.

‘You’re not going to find her, sirs.’ Andrews coughed, spitting the dislodged phlegm that had just broken loose into the handkerchief Stephen had given him early on, ‘The damn frogs sank her when we tried to run.’

‘Was that after Lieutenant Aubrey was thrown from the ship?’

‘Aye, but not by much. That was my idea, see? As soon as we got our hands on those letters, I knew it was bad. Told Blakeney to keep ‘em safe, give ‘em to somebody we could trust.’

‘And that was Aubrey.’

‘Aye, sir. He’s one of our best and bravest.’ Andrews looked over at Aubrey, who blushed under the praise, ‘Young as he is, we could use more like him.’

‘When did you convince Blakeney to abandon ship for his own good?’

‘I didn’t. I didn’t have to. I turned my back for two minutes, and they knocked a huge hole in our starboard, tore away half the rail, and left nearly a dozen good men dead before it knocked out the other rail.’ Andrews looked to the bed where Blakeney still slept, untroubled by any goings-on, ‘I couldn’t find Blakeney anywhere and knew he’d been knocked over the rail and off the ship. I would have wished him a swift end, though. If the French had gotten their hands on him, that would have been the end of it all.’

‘And what happened to the Ouragan?’

‘She’s somewhere at the bottom of the channel, sirs.’

‘Jesus, they burned her.’

‘Set the powder magazine alight first.’

‘And with that storm, no one would have thought anything of it!’

‘I’m sorry, Admiral, we fought hard as we could.’ Andrews looked at Nelson, who was worryingly silent.

‘How did you escape?’

‘I jumped the taffrail and hung on the rudder chains when they searched for survivors. Most of us abandoned ship once Blakeney disappeared. But anyone left on the ship before they sent her to Davy Jones, they were dead already.’ And Andrews looked murderous about it, ‘No one alive went down on that poor ship. Those who survived were taken captive. I have no idea how many of us are still alive in the hands of the French.’

‘Never apologise for doing your duty, Mister Andrews.’ Nelson said carefully. ‘You survived to bring us the truth.’

‘I’ll put the word out to stop searching for the Ouragan; we’re not going to find her.’ Stephen hated that they were only going to find the bodies but promised himself that every one of them would be buried with whatever honours the people of Westeray and Calenfell could offer.

‘I’ll pass the word along for you, Stephen.’ Ferguson offered, ‘We stayed behind to help with the efforts, see.’

‘Thank you, Rob. How are they bringing in the dead?’

‘Six more boats are out there, and they’re using their nets. Nothing’s been done, but they’re lining the dead along the beaches, I think.’

‘Yes, we’ve been doing that since this morning.’ Stephen ran a hand over his face, feeling a sick knot in his gut. ‘I haven’t quite decided what to do with them, but we won’t let them die without remembering what they died for.’

‘You may not be one of us, Mati, but by God, your heart is in the right place.’ Ferguson clapped him on the shoulder, ‘No one asked you to take on this task. You just did it because it was the right thing.’

‘Is there anything I can do to help, Doctor Maturin?’ Aubrey asked faintly, almost afraid of being told no.

Stephen was about to say no, but thought better of it. There was, in fact, plenty for him to do. Smaller tasks with no less importance than the rest, he would be involved in the efforts without being too close to the harder labours.

‘Run on down to the tailor’s, lad. See if he’s got any cloth to spare us. And go look for Daniel Morgan, he’s in charge of outfitting Westeray’s boats; he may be able to provide us with sailcloth. Then go along and see if you can find anything in Calenfell. I imagine they’ve already started the job there and here as well.’

‘How do I get there, sir?’

‘Cliff Road will get you there. Take my horse.’ He checked on Blakeney, ‘You’re not allowed to help bring them in, son, but if you’re up to it, you may help prepare them.’

‘It’s…the least I can do for them.’ Aubrey looked heartbroken, ‘These were my men, sir.’

‘And by God, they loved you, Aubrey.’ Andrews said, taking Aubrey’s hand in his. ‘You have a heart of gold and nerves of steel, lad. Those are both such valuable things. Never change that, son.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Aubrey looked over his shoulder at Blakeney, ‘I can’t…’

‘He’s not going anywhere yet. And even if he does, that will never be your job. Now, go on. Let me look after the old bastard, it’s half my job anyway.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Aubrey nodded and looked at Stephen and Nelson. Nelson simply indicated the open door of the room.

‘If you go to the harbour, Aubrey, I’ve left the Theseus there. Talk to Miller; he’ll see about getting you a clean uniform.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Aubrey offered a passable salute and left quietly.

‘If you’ve got work to be done with the dead, Stephen, I’ll look after the living for you, ' Whitlock said.

‘Thank you, Matthew.’ Stephen rubbed the bridge of his nose and turned to Ouragan’s Master. ‘Mister Andrews, my colleague will be attending to your needs while I’m otherwise occupied.’

‘I’m alive, sir, and that’s more than I deserve.’ Andrews said gruffly, ‘Don’t worry about us.’

‘I’m afraid worrying about you is my job, Mister Andrews.’ He shook his head and held the door for Nelson. ‘After you, Admiral.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

It was quiet as they walked away from the practice, passing Aubrey on his way to the docks. They didn’t speak to the lieutenant, but words were unnecessary. Returning to his rooms, Stephen didn’t stay long. Long enough to find a clean waistcoat and let Nelson devest of any of his things he wished to leave for the moment. This was most of his uniform belongings.

‘I can’t imagine what they’ll say, but I suppose neither of us is in much of a mood to care for idle gossip.’ He sighed, eyeing the man behind him in the mirror, ‘You have better things to do, don’t you?’

‘No. I’ll have Miller take the Theseus out and help with the recovery efforts.’

‘Duty bedamned.’ Stephen just shook his head, wishing none of this had surprised him. It might have two years ago, three years ago, or even two months ago, but right in the moment, it all seemed…normal. Natural.

Returning to the harbour, he said goodbye to Nelson for the moment, then took up with the Sea Lion again to continue the efforts from the water.

‘Why did they stay, sir?’

‘The Theseus and the Surprise are going to help recover the dead.’ He looked out at the pair of ships, ‘But as the dead are the crew of the Ouragan, I think we can let them.’

‘Aye, sir.’

Stephen was out until the sun had set, trolling the waters between the encounter point and the beaches. The Ouragan had carried three hundred souls; three had been recovered alive and uncounted dead. Before the Royal Navy had become involved, he had counted nearly a hundred.

He slept that night aboard the Theseus, taking a berth in the captain’s quarters, and started the efforts anew the following morning. This went on for another two days, pulling in wreckage and bodies. No other survivors, however, which was not surprising but was heartbreaking. By the end of the efforts, there were nearly half of the original count. Maybe a few over, but less than two hundred all counted.

Chapter Text

‘What will we do with all of them?’ Thomas Eshelby wondered aloud as they walked among the rows of bodies on the fourth morning. They had brought in the last of the dead last night and finished funerary preparations for them.

‘Bury the officers, burn the rest. Raise a plaque in memorial.’ Nelson spoke from behind them, not quite startling them.

Stephen shared a look with his fellow doctors and surgeons. All of them had joined forces for this incident, but Stephen knew that every willing hand was needed, and if he could use the Navy surgeons, by God, he would.

David Whitlock had taken on the survivors he had been bringing back, and Gregory Hamilton had taken to searching the dead for more survivors as they were brought ashore in Calenfell. So far, none had been found, and it was unlikely that any would be.

Mitchell Read and Thomas Eshelby had been released by their captains to help where they were needed, and Stephen had gladly paired them with his fellow physicians. While one helped collect the Ouragan’s dead, the other looked after any patients seeking care. And to their credit, no one seemed to mind terribly. No one cared enough to complain that he was by no means the most senior of the doctors, but taking control of things had happened so naturally, which was unusual for him.

‘Have the men separate the officers. We’ll take them in a wagon.’ He spoke to Whitlock and Eshelby, who nodded and passed word along to the others.

‘And get teams of men to start digging and collecting wood. One team here on the beach, another above on the cliffs.’

‘Aye, sir.’ The other two took their orders and disappeared.

‘You know, Maturin, it’s almost too bad you became a doctor.’ Nelson stood behind him, watching him give orders to different groups of people.

‘Why is that?’

‘Because you would have made one hell of an officer. The Royal Navy could do with twenty officers like you, and we have perhaps five.’

‘I’m afraid it’s not a compatible lifestyle, Admiral.’ Stephen had heard the same sentiments from his brother-in-law and Ferguson, who stood nearby and looked at each other.

‘I never said you two had to believe me,’ he said shortly, glaring at the beaming pair. ‘You’ll have to forgive them, sir.’

‘I see you’ve heard the sentiment before.’

‘On many an occasion, I’m afraid.’

‘What would it take to change your mind on the matter?’

‘There isn’t anything the Royal Navy could offer me that would take me away from dry land.’ He shrugged, ‘I’m afraid the circumstances would have to be quite extraordinary.’

‘And if something was found that could tempt you?’

‘It would depend entirely on the exact nature of the entreaty and the character of the one who was asking.’

‘You have standards, Maturin. I’ve always known that about you. A man of principles like yours is a rare sort.’ He would be damned if Nelson didn’t smile, ‘You see everything, whether you’re meant to or not. And you hear nearly as much.’

‘It is part of my job, sir.’

‘The job no one knows you have.’

‘It's better for the rest of them if they don’t find out.’ He chuckled, ‘You would be surprised how easy it is to learn the darkest secrets a man can hide just by being friendly.’

‘You can be as amiable as you are diffident. I imagine you have heard many a tale of woe.’

‘And almost none of them will ever be spoken of to another living soul.’ Stephen checked his watch, ‘Which is how it will always be.’

‘And as it should be.’ Nelson’s expression hardened. ‘God help the man who wrongs you, Maturin. It may very well be the last mistake made.’

‘And here I thought you couldn’t stand me.’ He knelt beside one of the bodies and checked the wrappings.

‘A misunderstanding, I’m afraid. Nothing more, nothing less.’

‘And plenty of opportunity to mend things between two headstrong men.’ He sighed, ‘Let us put these poor souls to rest first. We owe them at least that much.’

‘We owe them more.’ Nelson crouched nearby, ‘You don’t happen to know more than the numbers carried by the Ouragan, would you?’

‘What do you want to know of her? I knew her class, classification, rate, arsenal, and full crew count.’

‘I need the names of her officers and crew. A man with your connections might have better luck getting that list.’

‘I don’t see how, but I’ll find the names you need. Aubrey would be a good source for her officers; I imagine he knew most of them, if not all of them.’

‘Perhaps I’ll have Miller or Ferguson inquire, the lad’s gun-shy of the rest of us.’

‘And I can’t say I blame him at all.’ Stephen looked over his shoulder just as the handsome young Chimera lieutenant approached the captains.

‘Doctor Maturin! The wagon’s come!’

‘Thank you, Lieutenant.’ He got up carefully. ‘Ah, thank you, sir.’ This to Nelson, who had freely offered him a hand up.

They left the rows of sailcloth-wrapped bundles, some with flags, all with trinkets left for them by the children of Westeray and Calenfell.

‘What orders, sirs?’ Miller asked.

‘This is your arena, Doctor Maturin.’ Nelson deferred to Stephen, who had spearheaded this entire affair from the beginning. ‘Where shall we take the officers?’

‘Doctor Read,’ Stephen turned to Ferguson’s surgeon, ‘have they finished preparations on the cliffs yet?’

‘Aye, sir. As recently as ten minutes ago.’

‘Put the officers in the wagon and take them up. Have the other team start lining the pits on the beach with wood if they haven’t done so already.’

‘They just finished, sir.’ Aubrey spoke up, ‘I was just coming up to tell you.’

‘Thank you, Lieutenant.’ Stephen offered the lad a smile, ‘You’ve done well for the hard work we’ve asked of you.’

‘It’s the least I can do for them, Doctor. I wish I could do more.’

‘You’ve done more than enough, son.’ He laid a hand on Aubrey’s shoulder, ‘Have you been back to town to check in on Blakeney and Andrews?’

‘Aye, sir, I have. Captain Blakeney’s awake now.’

‘Has he said anything?’

‘He’s tried to, sir, but he can’t. At least, not yet.’

‘Were there injuries to his hands, Maturin?’

‘No, sir.’ Stephen was confident that he had seen no injuries to Blakeney’s hands and no sign of hidden damage like sprains or broken bones, ‘If Captain Blakeney can’t speak, he may be able to communicate with us another way.’

‘Aye.’ Nelson nodded, ‘Aubrey, get back to the practice and see about helping Blakeney write down what happened. You were there, you know better than anyone else what you three saw and survived. Between you, Blakeney, and Andrews, we’ll have a full picture of the event that led to the loss of the Ouragan.’

‘Which we’ll be answering for sooner than later, sir.’ Aubrey looked almost frightened, and knowing what little he did of court-martial proceedings, Stephen did not blame him at all.

‘Don’t worry about that until you must, son,’ Stephen said firmly, ‘For now, get back to your captain and see about getting his side of things written down for us. And feel free to write your own.’

‘Thank you, Doctor Maturin. I’m sorry for the trouble we’ve given you.’

‘You, young man, are the least troublesome patient I have encountered in months.’ He promised, looking for Whitlock, ‘I’ll send Doctor Whitlock back with you. There’s enough of us here; we can let one of our numbers go back.’

‘He’s no sea doctor, but he’s one of the better I’ve met, besides yourself.’ He’d be damned if Aubrey didn’t blush and couldn’t help a flush of warmth in his chest at the compliment.

‘Go on, son. I’ll be down to take care of it as soon as we’re finished with our business here.’

‘Can I come back, sir? When you bury the officers?’

‘You may. Now, go on.’ He gave in to an instinct and put his arm around Aubrey’s shoulders, tugged the boy closer, and kissed him on the forehead. ‘I’ll come for you when we’re ready to bury the Ouragan’s officers. Just mind yourself and wait for me.’

‘You come back when you say you will.’

‘You’ve been forgotten before, haven’t you?’ He knew the answer without needing a response and hated every man or woman who had made the promise to come back or to wait and then broke it.

‘I’m so sorry, lad. But I will come back, I have a personal and professional duty to see to your safety and wellbeing until I send you back to the Royal Navy.’ He promised, ‘And when I do that, you’ll be going back with Admiral Nelson. He’ll look after you for me once I’ve passed on that responsibility.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Aubrey managed a sad smile and a neat salute and disappeared into the milling crowds.

‘There, but for the grace of the Ancients, goes a broken man.’ Stephen said softly once Aubrey was gone.

‘I’ll look after him when we’ve parted ways, Maturin.’ Nelson promised as they turned to the business at hand, ‘He grew on you, didn’t he?’

‘It’s been difficult to maintain the professional distance required.’ He sighed, ‘I’ve encountered others like him, but I believe Jack Aubrey is the most beautiful Chimera I’ve ever met.’

‘It was his eyes, wasn’t it?’

‘His markings, actually. I only noticed his eyes once he was awake, but his markings were the first thing I recognised as a Chimeran trait.’ He smiled, ‘I’m not ashamed to admit that I was selfishly glad when his hair colour matched his markings.’

‘Nor would you be the only one who was caught by those traits. They are some of his most captivating, for sure.’

‘I suppose you would know, wouldn’t you?’ Stephen couldn’t help himself and wondered for a moment what his neighbours thought of his behaviour with Nelson and the captains.

‘If I didn’t know any better, Maturin, I’d say you were flirting.’

‘In the middle of a crisis?’

‘It would not be the first time I’ve seen such a thing or experienced it.’ Nelson shrugged as he made a few adjustments to the tack. ‘A crisis is one of the most perfect incubators of brotherly comfort.’

‘Well, when you put it in those terms,’ he chuckled as he offered the man a hand up. ‘Most men in your position would condemn anyone you suspected of it, especially in your position.’

‘If it does not affect my personal interests or interfere with the execution of their duties, I’ll leave them alone. When they bring trouble to themselves and their stations, then I will interfere.’

‘See to the safety of your own.’

‘As soon as we’ve finished this solemn business, I have a lesson to teach you, don’t I?’

‘Only once we’ve seen to the fallen. For now, we must show the proper solemn fronts.’ He took the reins of his horse, passing up those of Nelson’s borrowed horse.

It wasn’t quite what Stephen had expected of the man he had spent the last three days in close quarters with, but he was capable of misjudging a person and admitting to that fault. And since Nelson seemed genuinely interested in fostering a fresh start on their unstable, rocky acquaintance, he was willing to put in some effort. It might also give him another set of eyes on Aubrey, and he knew the lad would bear close watching.

Chapter Text

Half an hour later, he stood to one side of two trenches dug in the sand just below the tide line barricaded by a berm of sand and rock. Each was lined on the bottom with wood, and the Ouragan’s dead had been laid in these graves. As the chaplain finished his brief blessing, Stephen stepped forward and took a torch from one of the fishermen.

Wishing the souls of the dead to whatever afterlife they had believed in, he laid the torch against the bier and watched the flames take hold. These men had left behind families; perhaps some of them had left children. And now, they would never come home again. How would their relatives find out? How was that handled in the Royal Navy? And why, after all these years, did he suddenly care for the mundane business of the Royal Navy?

Before this, Stephen had never really bothered with the Royal Navy beyond his duties to Sir Joseph. When had that changed? How much had that changed? Before the storm and the battle, he might have carried a passing interest in things. Perhaps he would have gone hunting for better intelligence on it, but he wouldn’t have put himself at the head of an effort that was now nearing it’s end.

Stephen was the one who had made contact with the Royal Navy and pulled their resources into it. He had gone out of his way to hunt for the wreckage of the Ouragan and assemble search parties from Westeray and Calenfell. For God's sake, he had two Navy ships anchored in Westeray Harbour, their officers and crew practically gifted to him for whatever purposes he needed them for!

Now, that was perhaps not as surprising as it should have been. After all, he was either family or close friends of the captains. But it was the principle of the matter! Outside of his duties to Sir Joseph, and the occasional encounter or letter with Ferguson and Miller, he had nothing to do with the Royal Navy. And now he was practically befriended of Horatio Nelson.

Perhaps that was just a natural progression of an irregular association. After all, he had far more in common with Nelson now than he ever had in the past. And what had been uneasy and problematic seemed less so now. There were still troubles to solve, but common ground made the effort easier to pursue.

Stephen felt an itch between his shoulders and looked up to see who was watching. He thought it might be Nelson, so when he caught the man red-handed, he wasn’t terribly surprised.

‘Admiral, we’re ready on the cliffs.’ Miller’s voice interrupted the moment, and Stephen swore he saw irritation flash across Nelson’s face.

‘Thank you, Captain.’ Nelson acknowledged his flag captain with a polite nod, not breaking eye contact with Stephen until he had turned fully away.

He sighed and looked over his shoulder at the lingering fishermen.

‘Mister Haddock, you know what to do?’

‘Aye, sir, we know.’ Branley Haddock nodded solemnly and beckoned to the waiting crew of men armed with shovels and rakes. Their job, their only job, was to watch the pyres and tend the flames. It could take hours, it would, and they had volunteered themselves for the dismal, distressing duty of funeral detail.

Confident that he could leave the beach-pit fires, Stephen crossed the sand to the waiting horses and joined the others. The ride from the beaches to the cliff-top burial site was silent, and he reflected on how violent and fragile life could be, how quickly it could be ended. He had yet to lose a loved one in the name of The Service, but it would happen. Someday, someone he knew would die, and there would be nothing he could do for them except mourn.

At the top of the cliffs, from nearly the very same point he had watched the battle three nights ago, Stephen joined a much smaller party of mourners. This time, his only task was to stand watch. He stood between Miller and Ferguson, listening as the names of the deceased were read off of a list he had helped Andrews, Aubrey, and Blakeney put together.

As the company’s only surviving lieutenant, and Blakeney still mute from his injuries, it fell to Aubrey to read off those names. Stephen felt so sorry for the lad. These weren’t just names; they had been living people, friends of his, shipmates. Survivor’s guilt would eat at Aubrey for months, and Stephen didn’t know if he had anyone to turn to.

As before, he was aware of being observed. He didn’t move more than his eyes to find Nelson, who stood nearby. He wondered what Nelson was looking for and what he saw. It was strange to be on the other side of that regard.

But Stephen was a scientist. He made his living studying things and observing them. He was very good at subtle study and had made use of the skill over the last few days, collecting new data on a familiar target.

When the names had been read, they left the digging crew to their solemn work.

‘Gentlemen, we are expected in Plymouth before sundown.’ Nelson said quietly, the intent of his words crystal clear. Stephen would be damned if Aubrey didn’t whimper and put a hand on the lad’s shoulder.

‘You do not face these judges alone, Lieutenant.’

‘I’ve never done anything wrong.’

‘This isn’t a matter of wrong-doing, son. This is procedure.’ He said calmly, ‘I’ve seen the list of judges, and they’re all decently upstanding men. What happened was entirely out of your control, but if anyone tries to turn that on you, there will be a bit of trouble.’

‘Are you coming to Plymouth with us, Doctor Maturin?’

‘Of course, I am. I have my own answering to do.’ He shrugged, truly unconcerned.

‘But…you’re a civilian! Why would it matter to the Royal Navy?’

‘Because I got myself involved.’ He looked at Nelson and the captains, who just shared a knowing look. ‘I went beyond civilian duty and reached out to the Royal Navy on the matter. Two company surgeons actively took orders from me during the event, released from their normal duties by their captains. Who, should it be a point of contention, were acting on orders from an admiral.’

Which wasn’t quite true. Ferguson had made the decision by himself to turn around and come back to Westeray against orders to follow the rest of Nelson’s fleet to recover the captured ships and sailors.

‘Let me know if Jackson or Kent give you trouble.’ Nelson said firmly, ‘They tend to give the condemned a harder time than they have a right to, they try to scare them.’

‘I’ve had encounters with Captain Jackson and Admiral Kent before, and I do not plan to play by their rules.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘It will frustrate their efforts that I can’t be held accountable by your rules. They’ve always hated that about me.’

‘But you’re not Royal Navy?’ Poor Aubrey was so confused, ‘You’ve said as much.’

‘I am not with the Royal Navy, Lieutenant Aubrey. However, I have a great deal to do with it. My employment belongs to Sir Joseph Blaine.’

‘Ooh.’ The lad’s eyes widened, ‘Are you the one he keeps talking about?!’

‘I might be.’ Stephen chuckled, ‘But don’t worry about me, son. I can handle myself.’ And he absolutely could. It was just a matter of getting to Plymouth.

‘I know that look, Maturin.’ Nelson said in a low murmur, ‘Don’t you think of it.’

‘How am I so easily read by you?’ He looked at the observant man, ‘I should be insulted.’

‘Are you, though?’

‘No, sir, I am not. Not at all.’ He dutifully ignored Nelson’s pleased expression. ‘How do you propose we get to Plymouth in time, then?’

‘Simple. We’ll take you in. Ferguson and Miller are due to answer the same questions facing the Ouragan’s officers, so of course, we’ll be happy to take you over.’

‘And the only reason anyone of us is under questioning is because I couldn’t mind my own damn business.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘I am not sorry at all.’

‘You’re a doctor, man! It’s in your nature to help those in need!’

‘Some of our mutual acquaintances would call that interference.’

‘They are welcome to call it whatever they like, but because of your efforts, we have a far better chance of recovering our captured men alive than we would have.’ Nelson said decisively.

So, with plans made, Stephen returned to The Black Dog and packed a few days’ worth of clothes. He honestly didn’t know how long he would be in Plymouth, and figured it was better to be prepared. He spoke to Whitlock, who promised to look after things in Westeray while he was otherwise occupied, and asked if he planned on returning to the practice when this had blown over.

‘I would very much like to,’ he looked around the small room. ‘But I suspect my road is leading me somewhere quite different now.’

‘I didn’t think you had it in you to give orders like that.’ Whitlock took the key from him, ‘But you always did keep more to yourself than some thought proper. Man of mystery you were.’

‘There is very little mysterious about me, Matthew.’ Stephen chuckled, ‘I simply enjoy my privacy.’

‘You didn’t get much of it here, and you won’t find more of it out there.’ Whitlock shrugged as they shook hands, ‘But if you ever find yourself needing honest work or a place to go, we’ll have both for you here in Westeray and Calenfell when you need them.’

‘Thank you very much, Matthew.’ Stephen was going to miss this strange, sleepy little fishing town. ‘I’m going to keep my rooms with Handler, of course, until my future is further decided.’

‘He won’t turn you out, even if you give the key back.’

‘I did give the key back, and you can guess what he did with it.’ Stephen chuckled as he recalled his landlord’s reaction to getting Stephen’s key back.

‘Locked your room and told you to come back when you had the time.’ Whitlock grinned, ‘We’ll miss you, Maturin. Take care of yourself out there.’

‘You as well, sir.’

He left the practice and returned to The Black Dog long enough to say goodbye to the Handlers. Josiah promised to keep his rooms for him if he came back in two days, two months, or two years.

‘Thank you for your kindness, Mister Handler.’

‘You were my best tenant, Doctor, and I’ll be happy to have you when you decide to come back here.’

‘I’d like to have somewhere to come to.’

‘You’ve got one.’ Handler said firmly, his expression stern, ‘And how’s that young fellow you brought in? Aubrey?’

‘He’ll be alright, the poor lad’s just worried about that court-martial.’

‘If he’s never seen one, it’s a daunting thing.’ Handler shook his head, ‘I don’t know many people who wouldn’t be. I sure would.’

‘Fear of authority is perfectly natural, Mister Handler.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘And I have to believe that once the truth is known, and there was nothing to be done for the poor Ouragan, her surviving officers will be cleared of charges and allowed to go about their lives.’

‘Oh, Doctor, could you give this to Lieutenant Aubrey for me?’ Maggie gave him a bundle wrapped in white linen. ‘I never did get around to it myself, but that’s his.’

‘Thank you so much, Maggie. And to your boys, as well, they were enormously helpful.’ Stephen knew what the bundle was and was touched by the woman’s thoughtfulness and remembrance.

‘Good luck, Doctor Maturin.’ Handler shook hands with him, and the couple watched from the door as he made his way down to the marina. He waved over his shoulder and knew he would miss the kind-hearted couple.

‘Doctor Mati, where are you going?!’ A handful of children ran after him, ‘You’re not leaving, are you?’

‘I’m sorry, darlings, but my business takes me elsewhere.’ He looked at the eager faces, ‘I will come back someday, though.’

‘Soon?’

‘Perhaps not too soon. But if you keep your eyes on that horizon,’ He pointed out at the waters beyond the harbour, ‘you’ll see me again. And if you want to find me, ask for Doctor Mati. Someone will know where I am.’

‘Where are you going, Doctor Mati?’

‘Plymouth, a city west of here. The Royal Navy has offices there, and friends of mine are being court-martialled.’

‘Are they in trouble?’

‘A court martial just means something happened to their ship, and the commanders want to make sure they didn’t do it on purpose,’ an older child said wisely. Stephen chuckled.

‘Oh, you’ve been following me around again, haven’t you, Claire?’

‘Sorry, sir. I know you don’t like it.’

‘I don’t mind it; just don’t ever let someone catch you.’ He gently scolded the clever girl.

It wasn’t the first time he’d been tailed, and he always felt pride and amusement that some of the children just had the knack for it.

‘If we hear something, how do we tell you, sir?’

‘Claire and Mack can write letters to me. I’ll respond when I’m able.’ He promised, ‘You know what to look for, what to listen for?’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘Good luck, sir.’ Claire’s brother, Mack, handed him something. ‘We all put that together for you, sir. Open it when you’re in Plymouth.’

‘Oh. Thank you, Mack. That’s very kind of you.’ He smiled and carefully stowed the gift. He had no idea what it was, but it was obviously handmade and had likely taken some significant time and effort.

‘Doctor Maturin!’

‘Coming, sir!’ He called to Nelson, who waited a polite distance away.

‘Who is that, sir?’ Mack leaned around him to look at Nelson, eyes narrowed and suspicious.

‘That gentleman is Admiral Horatio Nelson.’ He looked over his shoulder at his odd and particular associate. ‘Rear-Admiral Horatio Nelson. He’s a very important man, and he’s the one taking me to Plymouth. I shouldn’t keep him waiting.’

‘Goodbye, Doctor Mati.’ The children all insisted on hugging him, but finally, he was able to leave.

‘A few final orders for your network, Maturin?’ Nelson inquired when he caught up.

‘Children are the best spies because no one pays any mind to them. I never trained any of them, but they all know what sorts of things to look and listen for, and the oldest are capable of writing letters.’

‘How did they discover your secret?’

‘One of them caught me decoding a message and asked what it was for. As far as I know, none of the adults suspect a thing.’

‘Because the children wouldn’t tell, and if they did, who would believe them.’

‘Precisely.’ He shrugged, ‘For a while, they kept the children away from me, I was the stranger in town.’

‘You always appreciated your privacy.’

‘I am not a very social creature, and anyone who knows me knows this. But children have a gift for breaking down barriers and ignoring well-meant warnings.’ He sighed, ‘I often find myself wishing more people had the wonder of children.’

‘It is a decent thing to wish for.’

Chapter Text

When they reached the Theseus, they boarded, and orders were given to set out for Plymouth. It took some careful manoeuvring, but in no time, they were out of harbour and heading west along the coast. The journey would take roughly five hours, and Stephen wondered how that time would be occupied. He was content to find a quiet, out-of-the-way place to sit and watch the water.

‘Ferguson took on the Ouragans, didn’t he?’

‘All but insisted.’

‘He would have. Him and Miller, the damn pair of conspirators.’ He shook his head and looked at his host, ‘You know it was Miller’s idea.’

‘How do you know Miller?’

‘He’s my brother-in-law, actually.’

‘Oh, is he? Interesting.’

‘I find it unlikely you haven’t met my sister yet, sir.’

‘The chance has not presented itself, but I suspect that I will meet her eventually.’

‘Don’t let her personality scare you.’ He knew that Leah could be a little…overwhelming if you weren’t expecting it, and she always meant what she said.  

Suddenly, a flicker of motion by his feet got his attention, and he turned to watch a cat pad across the bustling deck. It was a beautiful queen Calico with dilute markings and medium-length fur, and the most unusual markings on her head. Her ears were red, bright, fiery red, with a distinctive white blaze on her forehead. He knew if he looked, her eyes would be mismatched one eye blue, one eye yellow.

‘I imagine a ship the size of the Theseus has a number of cats aboard.’

‘We have three, four if you count that one.’ Nelson had spotted the cat as well, ‘But that one’s a haughty little bitch and won’t come for anyone. Spends most of her time holed up in Miller’s cabin.’

‘I think I know why.’ Stephen stifled a laugh, knowing it would get him choked in his sleep for daring.

He dropped into a crouch and tapped on the deck, a certain pattern he had learned years ago. Like clockwork, the cat froze, her ears twitching. He grinned and settled a bit.

‘What on earth are you doing?’

‘Proving a point my brother-in-law keeps trying to make.’ He whistled softly. ‘Leela! Come here, darling!’

Immediate obedience, and he waited a moment for her to jump onto his shoulder. ‘Ah, there you are, darling! Hello, sweetheart.’

‘Stephen?! What in the name of Airmid are you doing here?’

‘I’ve been here, love. A few days ago. I’m not sure where you were, but I was here.’ He smiled as he stroked the white blaze on his sister’s forehead, ‘I wonder why the admiral hasn’t figured you out yet.’

‘He will no thanks to you.’

‘I’m not going to apologise. You know he’d have found you out sooner or later.’ Stephen chuckled as Leah rubbed her head against his cheek.

‘Oh, that’s where she went!’ Miller caught sight of them and came to give him a hand to his feet, ‘Sly little thing, slinks around here like a ghost and scaring the steward.’

‘She’s never gotten along with Gregory.’ Stephen imagined that had something to do with an early encounter between the two involving Leah getting her tail stepped on and a dish being broken when she hollered and startled the steward into dropping it.

‘Were you just talking to that cat, Maturin?’

‘Aye, sir, I was.’ He looked at Nelson, who eyed his sister warily, ‘You haven’t given him any trouble, have you?’

‘No, I have not. I stay out of his way, tah.’

‘Well, he’s not going to do anything about you, you earn your keep around here.’ He scratched between her ears and set her down. ‘Come along, Leah. Time to introduce yourself.’

‘Very well.’ She gave him a dirty look as he took a pendant from Miller and put it around her neck. Standing back, he watched as the air around Leah distorted and rippled. There was something beautiful about watching a Chimera shift, something sacred and intimate.

‘Here. She’ll need this.’ Miller passed over a coat, ‘We learned our lesson.’

‘How many unwitting men got an eyeful?’

‘Maybe seven.’ Miller watched his wife, ‘It’s only the three of us up here right now, which is perfectly fine. You know she’s only doing it because you’re the one who asked.’

‘I am very well aware. I don’t ask very often, of course. She has her preferences, and I’ve never made a ruckus about it.’

‘Are you happy now, Stephen?’ His sister demanded. She was sitting on the deck in nothing more than a shift, hair in a wild mane, eyes flashing in defiance he had seen already in Aubrey. He chuckled and gave her the coat as he helped her stand up.

‘I’m always happy to see you, darling. I’m sorry I made you come out, though.’

‘Why did you?’

‘Because Admiral Nelson has no memory of meeting you, which I found to be highly unlikely. You follow Will everywhere if we want you to or not.’

‘My God!’ Speaking of Nelson. ‘I never thought your wife was a Chimera, Miller!’

‘She is, sir.’ Miller took Leah’s hand, ‘Admiral Nelson, this is my wife, Leah Maturin.’

‘It’s an honour, sir.’ Leah’s manners were perfect; Stephen imagined their grandmother watching from the Afterworld and beaming with pride. They hadn’t been the most well-behaved children in their youth, and their tempers still had a way of getting ahead of them as adults.

‘The honour is mine, madam! How long have you been among our company and none of us knew?’

‘Only since we sailed from Portsmouth two months ago, sir.’ Miller filled in, ‘Gods know I tried to leave her home, but she was having none of it and stowed away in her Familiar Form.’

‘You are welcome aboard any of your husband’s stations, madam.’ Nelson said, a little starstruck, ‘And any of my own, for that matter.’

‘Thank you, Admiral.’ Leah dropped a beautiful curtsy. ‘I will apologise if I get too far underfoot of you, sir.’

‘I would worry more for your safety should something turn up, madam.’

Which was a very legitimate concern. War darkened the horizons, France was always threatening troubles. And if Leah was adamant to follow Will wherever his duties took him, she was in just as much danger as the rest of them.

‘Thank you for humouring me, Leah.’ Stephen took his sister’s hands and kissed her on the cheek, ‘I know you prefer to keep to yourself.’

‘We all do, Mati.’ Leah leaned up, ‘The way he watches you, brother.’

‘You noticed.’

‘Féach ar do dhroim, a dheartháir.’[i] She gave him a troubling smile and kissed him on the cheek before stepping back. Stephen just rolled his eyes.

‘Coinnigh do guairí as mo ghnó, a dheirfiúr.’[ii] He scolded, sliding his gaze to Miller, ‘Captain Miller, mind your wife, sir.’

‘I do try, Doctor.’ Miller just grinned. Stephen knew he and Miller would pay for teasing Leah like that, but he had lived his life looking out for his sister’s antics.

‘You know what they say of a woman scorned, Doctor Maturin.’ Nelson mused as Leah disappeared below decks in Familiar Form, tail flicking in annoyance.

‘I had the misfortune to grow up with that one, sir; I’m well aware.’ He folded his hands behind his back. ‘I love her dearly, though, and would change nothing about her. Perhaps wish her a bit more gentleness, less of a temper.’

‘Come below, there’s matters to be discussed between us, I think.’

‘Aye. Mending to be done.’

He looked around the quiet, bustling decks as he followed Nelson below. No one seemed to notice him, but those who did notice knew better than to speak up—if they were smart.

The quarters assigned to Nelson were spacious for what they were, but there was still something to be desired. Stephen was hyper-aware of the comings and goings outside the door, the exact position of the young Marine guarding the cabin, the goings-on of the crew at their daily tasks. The steward, cranky old Pad Gregory, came in with a tray and was gone just as quickly.

‘Thank you, Gregory.’ Nelson gave the steward a tight smile, ‘See to it, no one else bothers us, will you? If anything comes up, pass it to Miller.’

‘Aye, sirs.’ Gregory gave Stephen a long, measuring look and shuffled out, muttering to himself about Gods knew what.

As soon as he was out, Stephen checked the door. It was locked, he went as far as pocketing the key.

‘If you want them to leave you alone, lock your door and pocket the key,’ he felt rather than saw Nelson’s inquiring look.

‘I didn’t say anything?’

‘You didn’t have to.’ He shrugged out of his coat and looked for somewhere to lay it.

‘Give that to me.’ Nelson took it from him, and he turned to watch the other man.

In the three days he and Nelson had been involved in business, some private conversations had happened. They were usually stolen in quiet moments, well after anyone who might interrupt them had gone to bed. Both of them had admitted to equal responsibility for the misunderstanding and decided to leave the past alone. They were both responsible for it, apologies had been made and accepted, and there was no reason to continue bringing it up. Going forward, Stephen was personally more interested in maintaining a friendship with Nelson. If it became more, that was fine by him. After all, that subject had come up in conversation before.

While they talked, Stephen learned a hard-won secret about Nelson. The man was married—this was no secret—but it had been a marriage built on empty promises and lies. Because divorce was frowned upon, he and Lady Nelson had privately separated and lived apart. They communicated through letters, seeing each other often enough. There was affection between them, but it was more the affection you might feel for a dear friend or family member.

While Lady Nelson pursued friendships with other gentlemen, given her ex-husband’s blessing, Nelson himself had never shown interest in other women—at least not beyond friendships.

‘You married Fanny because it was expected of you,’ he remarked, handing over one of two glasses of port. They had finished nearly half a bottle while talking, and he wondered if they would need another.

‘We did love each other at the beginning.’ Nelson said quietly, ‘She’s a dear woman and a better friend than I ever deserved.’

‘A better friend than a wife. You made the decision together?’

‘Aye.’ And it had not been an easy one.

‘At least you had the sense to see it before it turned sour between you.’ Stephen had seen his share of failed relationships and marriages.

‘Have you ever been married, then?’

‘Hmm?’ He turned to Nelson.

‘Have you ever been married.’

‘Oh. No, sir.’ He looked out at the waters of the channel beyond the Theseus, ‘I’ve never married, and it’s never been an objective.’

‘You won’t?’

‘I…can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because I refuse to live a lie. You and I are far more alike than we are different, I’m afraid.’

‘And yet we must hide so much from the rest of the world.’

‘How often have our masks cracked without us knowing?’ Stephen knew the implications. He hated putting it that way, but it made sense.

‘Stephen.’ Something about Nelson's pronunciation of his name, the easy intimacy in the two syllables, had his complete attention.

‘Stephen.’ He said it again, this time combining the word’s effect with physical contact.

‘Yes.’ Yes, to what? No question had been asked yet!

‘I haven’t asked you anything yet.’ That got him a smile.

‘I know what you will ask, and my answer is not going to change.’ He studied the other man, noticing a few things about him that had been noted before and put away for later reflection.

Stephen was used to being one of the tallest men in a room, but he had never met someone like Nelson, who made up for his lack of physical height in other ways. Not…that he was unusually short, actually, just when you put him next to someone like Stephen.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Studying you.’ He sat down, ‘If that’s alright with you.’

‘What do you see?’

‘You expect me to see something specific,’ he said, narrowing his eyes. ‘And I see those things, but that’s not all I see.’

‘It’s not?’

‘No!’ He leaned forward, ‘I make my living on observations, you know this.’

‘Yes, I do. And I would love to know what you think you know about me after three days.’

‘What I’ve seen and what I’ve learned are a fairly even match to the limited knowledge I had before this. But you are kinder than people make you out to be.’

‘I am kind to those who deserve my kindness.’

‘And indifferent to those who don’t. How do you judge that?’

‘Observation.’ A sly smile, ‘Neither of us were deliberately cruel three years ago; we were simply young and foolish. You are the sort of man I would show kindness to.’

‘And you have.’

‘Understanding, perhaps? But not kindness. I’ve put you in an awful position to be in, asked you to do something I had no right to.’

‘Stop it.’ He took Nelson by the wrist, ‘You didn’t ask me to do anything. I was already doing it when we met. You simply inquired about what I was doing. I asked for help. I made demands. I will admit to that until my dying breath, but nothing I did over the last three days was done because I was ordered to.’

‘No, I suppose you were the one ordering the rest of us around. And you put a number of decent men to crying shame.’

‘I’m not sure how many of them are truly decent men, but I will admit I may have put a few to shame, didn’t I?’

‘Oh, shut up, Maturin.’ Nelson looked annoyed, and Stephen swallowed a chuckle in a sip of port.

‘Was that an order, sir?’

‘Does it have to be?’

‘I may be good at giving orders, Admiral, but I can’t promise I’m very adept at taking them.’ He set aside an empty glass, having no need for it.

‘Pity. By the time I’m done with you, you certainly will be.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘You’re familiar with the way we deal with insubordination in the Royal Navy?’

‘Enough to thank my luck, I’m practically untouchable.’

‘Not today, you aren’t.’ Nelson’s expression was practically feral, ‘My ship, Doctor Maturin. My rules.’

‘Crios.’ He swallowed hard, fingers tightening around Nelson’s wrist. He had never actually let go of the man, he realised, but it didn’t seem to matter.

‘Now, I have one very important question for you.’ Nelson leaned down until they were face-to-face and dangerously close, ‘Will you obey?’

‘Y-yes, sir.’

‘What was that?’

‘Yes. Sir.’

‘I thought so. Now, please, do be quiet.’

‘Crios. I’ll…try.’ He could only promise to try. So much depended on discretion, here and elsewhere, but especially here, now. And he had no idea what Nelson had in mind, how he planned to test the new thing between them.

‘Trust me, Stephen. We still have plenty of time.’

‘I said nothing.’

‘Nothing out loud, dear.’ He got a knowing look for that and huffed.

‘I’m beginning to wonder if I could hide anything from you!’

‘There’s plenty about you I don’t know yet. I would very much like the chance to change that.’ Nelson went around behind him, ‘I imagine you would desire the same chance.’

‘Yes. Absolutely.’ He swallowed, wondering what he could get out of this unusual relationship. They were brand-new to each other, still a bit professional and aloof.

‘You’re still afraid of me, aren’t you?’

‘Three days, and you have the nerve to ask if I’m still afraid of you?’ Stephen snorted, ‘Oh, please! You and I both know it was never fear!’

‘What is it, then?’

‘Respect. Indifference before two days ago.’ He stayed still, trying to place Nelson in the room without moving. ‘We never had anything to do with each other after our first unfortunate encounter, and now we’re three days into having more to do with each other than either of us expected.’

‘Unfortunate, but to be amended.’ There he was, right behind Stephen. A hand landed on his shoulder and a jolt raced through him. Not out of alarm, but from something else.

‘Jesus.’ He whispered. Was Nelson a damn Chimera, too?!

‘You feel that, don’t you?’

‘How…?’

‘Something to learn about me, ay?’

‘Among other things! Crios, you’re a Chimera!’ He leaned his head back, ‘I missed that about you!’

‘I can’t hold it against you, we’ve both been terribly and regrettably busy with other obligations.’ Nelson smiled, his hand resting against Stephen’s jaw, ‘And in your defence, dear Doctor, one of the most obvious markers has been practically obliterated in my case.’

‘What colour were your eyes?’

‘Blue and brown.’

‘They turned grey from trauma.’ He resisted reaching to touch that awful scar, ‘You’re so fortunate you didn’t lose the eye itself!’

‘So said my doctors. Who were none of them half as skilled as you’re said to be.’

‘Whitlock talked, didn’t he?’

‘He’s practised with you for six months or more. And Read knows enough about you from school.’

‘Oh, I did go to school with him, didn’t I? I’d rather forgotten.’ Stephen chuckled, ‘I shall have to apologise to him when I get the chance. He was a friend of mine when neither of us had many.’

‘After the boards are done with you.’

‘I’m not too fond of defending myself against the likes of Kent and Jackson, or even Palmer. I spend enough time doing that.’

‘Do you suppose they would leave you alone if you became a qualified Naval surgeon? I imagine some of their animosity is your status as a civilian.’

‘How would you suggest we go about that?’ He studied those expressive grey eyes, able to pick out hints of blue in the uninjured eye.

‘Captains may warrant their own company surgeons. I don’t suppose it would take much to talk Miller into it.’

‘Or I imagine a Flag Officer is just as capable.’ Stephen knew exactly where this conversation was leading, ‘Should I accept it if I were asked?’

‘But not because I said you should.’ Nelson warned. ‘Only do it for yourself, Stephen, not because someone asked you to or said you should.’

‘Even if that’s precisely what you’ve done.’ He smiled, ‘Perhaps I will.’

‘But for now.’

‘I believe you said something about teaching me a lesson?’

‘Aye.’ Something dangerous lit up behind Nelson’s eyes. ‘It’s time to see how well you take orders, Doctor Maturin.’

‘Yes, sir.’ It came almost too smoothly. Nelson chuckled and moved around to stand in front of him.

‘Stand up.’ Simple enough.

Stephen got carefully to his feet, aware that there was less than a breath of space between the two of them and his greater height. Interestingly, that didn’t bother Nelson. He stood still as Nelson took a half-step back and looked him up and down.

‘Hmm. You already gave me your overcoat and hat.’ Grey eyes, one clouded by blindness, narrowed, ‘Off with the rest of it, then. And no rushing.’

‘Sir.’

Some part of Stephen had expected that demand, and he moved to carry it out. Piece by piece, he removed and set aside his clothes. Coat, shoes, and stockings were first, being the easiest. While he followed orders, Nelson moved around the cabin, divesting of his uniform as he went. A soft clattering was Nelson setting aside his sword on the table used to hold their overcoats and hats.

Stephen watched, noticing the stiffness of Nelson’s shoulders. The man suffered varied illnesses, malaria among them. Momentarily, his only malady was seasickness and a cough.

‘Come here.’ He didn’t hesitate to give that order.

‘Hmm?’

‘Come. Here.’ He held out one hand. To his credit, Nelson obeyed and let Stephen take his hand.

This had happened during the prior three days, small moments of contact hidden behind the veil of duty. He would have kept Nelson from doing more, but contented himself with keeping an eye on him while they were afield collecting the debris and dead of the erstwhile Ouragan. Stephen had mastered the art of taking Nelson’s pulse as they went about their grim business, sliding two fingers under the cuffs of his shirt and keeping brief contact. No one ever noticed.

‘Does anyone know you’re ill?’

‘No, I haven’t the heart to tell them something they either know already or is none of their business.’ Nelson looked at him, ‘You see that?’

‘I didn’t become a doctor because of a mere fancy.’ He looked up from what he was doing, ‘It’s literally in my blood, in my breeding.’

‘How?’

‘My family hails of a line of healers, shaman, and herbalists going back centuries. Ancestors of mine were practically gods.’

‘Christ.’

‘Not all of us are born Gifted, nor use what gifts we might have.’

‘But you did.’

‘Aye.’ He rested one hand on Nelson’s heart and closed his eyes to focus, ‘Relax. I am not going to hurt you.’

‘What are you doing?’

‘Hush.’  He frowned, picking up the internal struggles. Nothing more serious than the cough, thank the Ancients for that mercy. That could be handled in several ways, he would be using both of them. For now, a bit of a push would have to do.

‘You’ll feel warmth and a bit of pressure, but that’s what you should feel.’ He said quietly, knowing this frightened people who expected standard medicine and got him instead.

Stephen focused on the points of contact between himself and Nelson, looked for the glow within himself. Finding it, he took what he needed and gave it to Nelson, waiting for the affected muscles to react the way they should.

‘Breathe for me.’ He waited for the rise and fall under his hand, and smiled when it triggered the last stage of the push.

‘How did you do that?’ Nelson asked once he had let go.

‘I was born Gifted. My grandfather taught me everything he had learned from our ancestors. He made me swear to never misuse my gifts and to be careful who I told and how much I told them.’

‘Why did you tell me?’

‘Because you asked. Because I’ve been looking after you for three days and doing this when you’re not quite paying attention.’ He went back to what he had been doing before getting distracted.

‘And, if it’s anyone’s business, I’d rather not have that sitting between us. You would know there was something different about me, just as I know there’s something different about you, but you wouldn’t know what.’

‘So, you are a Gifted.’

‘And you are a Chimera.’

‘I don’t suppose you might be both, are you?’ Nelson asked, genuinely curious about this new thing he’d learned about Stephen.

‘I don’t think I am.’ He shrugged as he finished the last of the buttons on his shirt, ‘I haven’t shown any of the characteristics of a Chimera.’

‘But you know several?’

‘Besides my sister, I know at least two others. Interesting that most of them are in the Royal Navy.’ He eyed his companion, ‘I know my sister’s Familiar, and Lieutenant Aubrey’s, but I have no idea what yours might be.’

‘How did you discover Aubrey’s?’

‘Because I found him that way.’ Stephen felt a pang of grief for the one-hundred and sixty men they had committed to the flames and buried on the cliffs. ‘I thought it was just a cluster of wreckage, but then…’

‘He moved.’

‘I thought he was a bird at first but discovered my mistake very quickly.’ He looked at Nelson, ‘I can be forgiven for the relief I got knowing he would survive. His injuries were remarkably insignificant and healed quickly.’

‘What did you think of him?’

‘Whoever he was, he had a future. When I realised that he was a Chimera, and an officer lost from his station, I had to help.’

‘And now you’re on your way to answer to a board of stuffy captains and admirals who aren’t going to respect you at all.’

‘Unfortunately, I’m used to it.’ He set aside his waistcoat and shirt, ‘But not all of you are disrespectful.’

‘Oh, but we can be.’ That got him a sly grin.

‘Believe me, I know you can be.’ Stephen rolled his eyes. ‘But you are nothing I am incapable of managing, sir.’

‘Oh, am I to be managed, then? I would dearly love to see you try, sir.’ Grey eyes sparkled, and Stephen laughed. Whatever the future brought him, this moment would be worth every trouble. 

Chapter Text

Once he and Nelson stood in the same state, studying each other, it was clear that Nelson had suffered illness. His frame was proportional to his height, but he seemed too thin.

Stop thinking like a doctor, damn it. He thought harshly.

Thankfully, Nelson wasn’t paying much attention to his face, or he would have noticed Stephen’s expression.

‘I can hear the wheels turning in your head.’

‘My deep apologies, dear.’ Stephen said mildly.  

‘What would it take to distract you, then?’

‘Distract me?’ He raised an eyebrow, ‘Did you have something in mind?’

‘One or two somethings.’ Nelson’s expression shifted and he closed the small distance between them, ‘If you would indulge me.’

‘Crios.’ He exhaled sharply, unable to help a shiver across his skin.

‘May I, dear Stephen?’ Nelson whispered, stretching up on tip-toe.

Stephen reacted purely on instinct and dropped his head, leaning closer to his partner. He would walk into that court-martial looking like he’d done something unspeakable, and he couldn’t be sorry for the trouble. He just knew there would be evidence.

‘Stop. Thinking.’ Nelson scolded, ‘Christ, you just can’t stop, can you?’

‘I’m so sorry, it’s my worst habit.’

‘One of your worst habits, I’m afraid.’

‘Have I been so incautious that you’ve read me like this nearly every time?’ He raised an eyebrow, ‘I thought I was better at keeping to myself.’

‘Oh, you’re impossible to read. I just know how to read you. That, dear, is entirely different.’

‘I should be insulted.’

‘But you’re not.’ There was that smile, the one he was beginning to love. ‘Now, please, do shut up.’

‘Shutting up, sir.’ He whispered a split second before Nelson made good on an unspoken promise and kissed him.

Prior experiences were nothing grand to speak of, but there was always something dangerous about kissing someone like Nelson. Navy men by themselves were a shifty, dangerous bunch, but by God, they made a fantastic tumble.

‘I don’t think I’m your first.’

‘No, sir.’

‘Huh. One of us. Must’ve been, the way you took that from me.’ Nelson studied him with a sly chuckle, ‘Anyone I might know?’

‘Absolutely.’ He had to sit down and landed on the chaise.

‘I’d say…your contacts are limited, and it’s obviously someone both of us are acquainted with.’ Nelson settled between his legs, resting there comfortably, ‘Ferguson? Or your bastard brother-in-law? God love him dearly.’

‘Both.’ He swallowed that, ashamed of even admitting it.

‘Huh. I’m surprised your sister didn’t take your balls for an ornament.’

‘Sh-…she…um.’ Stephen stuttered, unable to focus.

‘She…did what?’

‘Crios! Stop that!’ He groaned, reaching for the sneaky, rough fingers that were making trails along his thigh towards a dangerous target.

‘Oh, easy, darling. Easy.’ Nelson chuckled, breath puffing across Stephen’s shamefully interested cock, which jerked under the stimulation. ‘You were saying?’

‘She…watched. It was her idea.’

‘Ooh, was it?’

‘I wish I was lying, sir.’

‘The Maturins are brazen, aren’t they? Or is it just the two of you?’

‘Two of us, mostly.’ He reached for something, anything, to hold onto.

‘Be quiet, you.’ Nelson scolded when he whimpered, looking up at him.

How someone could be so aroused and so completely unbothered by it was baffling, but Nelson knew exactly what he was doing and what he wanted out of this. Maybe Stephen didn’t, but maybe that would change. He wasn’t going to ask to stop, of course.

‘I swear, Maturin, if I have to tie you up and gag you, I will.’ Nelson threatened, ‘I have the means, and I will use them.’

‘I’m sorry!’

‘Huh. Not sorry enough. If I don’t do something about you, you’ll be useless, and that’s not fair to anyone.’

‘W-what did you have in mind?’

‘Come here.’ Nelson got up, took him by the hand, and led the way to the coach, where the bed-place was situated.

There was a bed—a true, honest-to-Ancients bed! Which he promptly landed on. The frame creaked a bit and settled.

‘Oof.’ It was an involuntary sound as the air rushed out of his lungs.

‘You are magnificent.’ Nelson cooed, studying Stephen as he lay sprawled on the mattress. ‘I wonder what your Familiar looks like, my dear.’

‘M-my…what?’ He croaked, ‘I’m not…’

‘Your eyes just changed colour, darling. That only happens if you’re a Chimera.’

‘Crios.’ He couldn’t help wondering if the events of the past three days had anything to do with it.

‘We’ll explore this together, I promise.’ Nelson made deliberate eye contact. ‘Right now, I need you here. Can you be quiet?’

‘No!’

‘Well, not enough,’ Nelson patted him on the chest and told him to wait.

There was some shuffling nearby as he dug around beneath the bed's frame, and Stephen took several slow, deep breaths, one hand across his mouth to stifle the indecent noises.

‘Lovely lad.’ Nelson was there again, ‘You’re a bit calmer now.’

‘I don’t suppose you would accept an apology?’

‘Absolutely not. You’ve done nothing wrong.’ Those eternally grey eyes studied him. He saw sparks of blue in the uninjured eye, very faintly, like a shimmer of iridescence, and there was a sort of moonstone shine to the injured eye. They were beautiful.

‘What are you looking at?’

‘Your eyes. They’ve changed colour for a terrible reason, but they’re…beautiful.’ Stephen gave in to impulse and touched the scar, and he was allowed to. ‘How did you not lose the eye itself? It must have been luck.’

‘I…cheated.’

‘How?’

‘You have so much to learn about Chimeras, don’t you?’ Nelson smiled and studied him, ‘We don’t always have control over Shifting.’

‘Oh?’

‘Often, if we’re in some danger, the Chimera senses it and pulls us to our Familiar. It has only happened that once that I can recall, and I imagine it’s very much what happened to Aubrey when Blakeney threw him off the Ouragan to save him.’

‘Crios.’

Stephen wondered how much he could learn about Chimeras from Nelson and his sister, as well. She had always been a Chimera, but out of respect, he had never used her to study them beyond a few questions. And before he’d become a doctor, it had never really been important what she was. She was just…his sister.

‘Stay with me, Stephen,’ Nelson rumbled, touching him to redirect him. Stephen reacted almost violently and stifled a noise with his hand.

‘Easy, son.’ A chuckle. ‘Easy.’

‘S-so sorry.’

‘I suppose I have to find some way to shut off that great brain of yours, just for a moment.’ Grey eyes sparkled, ‘But how?’

‘Gods know I’ve tried, sir.’ He let out a shaky, slow breath.

After a moment of quiet, Nelson sat up.

‘Stay there, I’m not going anywhere.’ He promised, seeing the puzzled look on Stephen’s face.

When the smaller man turned so he faced the foot of the bed, Stephen had an idea of his own and carefully shifted a bit. When they were settled, his head rested against Nelson’s knees and Nelson’s head on his; it was actually a rather perfect arrangement.

‘Much better, I think.’ Nelson turned so he could see Stephen properly and smiled, ‘Now, be quiet.’

‘I’ll try, sir.’ He said, knowing it was all he could promise.

Content with the compromise, Nelson decided to see how he could get Stephen to switch off for a while. He started with manual stimulation, finding the sensitive tracks along Stephen’s thighs that he had discovered earlier, following the trail up.

‘Hng.’ He grunted as a particularly ticklish spot was found.

‘Quiet, dear.’ His partner scolded, giving him a short look.

Stephen covered his mouth again and just stayed still. It was all he could do.

When Nelson reached his goal, Stephen had nearly fainted from forgetting to breathe. But that first confident, curious touch jolted him back, and he uttered some strangled sound.

‘Ah, there you are!’

‘Gods! I…’

‘Almost forgot to breathe, you silly thing.’ Nelson chuckled, ‘I’m so curious to know what your Familiar looks like!’

‘And, I…yours.’ He huffed, ‘Christ.’

‘In good time, dear.’ Nelson shrugged and went back to work, ‘And this time, dear? Don’t forget to take a breath every now and then.’

Stephen huffed out a chuckle, which turned into a soft groan when Nelson decided to add a bit of oral stimulation to the mix. Reaching for something, he found purchase on Nelson’s calf and buried his noises in the space between his hand and his partner’s body.

It wasn’t long before he felt that tightening in his gut and surfaced to gasp out a warning.

‘Fire away, darling.’ Nelson murmured, giving him permission. Not that it would have mattered if he had said “no”, of course.

Stephen stifled a yell they absolutely would have heard elsewhere on the ship and felt the warm slick spread between them.

When the last of him was spent, Stephen tried to catch his breath.

‘Stay where you are, darling.’ Nelson touched him on the hip and was gone.

Stephen didn’t bother to look, just tracking him around the cabin by sound alone. He heard the sound of liquid being poured and other sounds of industry, but he only looked up when Nelson touched him on the shoulder. He turned carefully onto his back and studied the man who had managed to shut his brain down with marvellous success. He had two things: a glass of port, and a damp cloth.

Clean-up was brief and efficient; this clearly wasn’t the first time this action had happened behind locked doors. With the soiled cloth discarded, Stephen took the offered glass and took a careful sip before passing it back to Nelson, whose grey eyes shimmered with pleasure. There was more blue now than before, which made him stupidly happy.

When he felt a bit more himself, Stephen sat up and studied his current partner.

‘What’s that look for?’

‘I’ve been looked after, and you have not.’ He was simply stating a fact. And, unsurprisingly, Nelson’s untended need sat flushed and shining, curved just so.

‘What would you propose we do, then?’

‘Allow me to return the favours you’ve shown me.’

‘By all means, my dear doctor.’

Desperate to return some of the attention, he took the Admiral’s neglected cock in one hand. Stephen made do with manual stimulation, but it seemed more than sufficient. The most efficient, comfortable way was for Stephen to sit with his back against the hull, legs bent at the knee and spread to let Nelson sit with his back to Stephen. He kept one arm around the smaller man’s chest, the other hand was busy around the stiff, leaking cock.

He bothered Nelson further by using his teeth against the man’s neck and shoulders, never leaving an imprint behind and never where it would be obvious. The warning tap he got said enough, and he chuckled.

‘You never said I couldn’t use my teeth, sir.’ He said quietly.

‘Suppose I didn’t, ay?’ He didn’t look, but he suspected Nelson had rolled his eyes at forgetting to set specific boundaries for what could and could not be done. But he distracted the smaller man with a careful, deliberate twist that turned the fond annoyance into a gasp of rapture.

‘Hush, my dear. Can’t let them hear us.’ He whispered, using his free hand to cover Nelson’s mouth to stifle any louder exclamation.

Nelson closed one hand around his wrist, simply holding on while Stephen worked him to a perfectly draining climax. When he felt the man was close, he nosed behind his left ear, breathing deep of the pure smell of arousal.

‘Come for me, my dear Admiral.’ He whispered, nipping at the soft flesh of his earlobe. He swore he felt teeth against his hand as the man’s outcry was muffled, and buried his smile against the sweat-slick shoulder as Nelson’s spend covered his engaged hand.

‘You beautiful thing,’ he murmured when Nelson slumped against him, completely spent. ‘I’ve got you. Are you alright?’

‘Damn your eyes, Maturin. How did you do that?’ The nasty look was only so effective, which was not at all, and Stephen smiled.

‘No Gift involved, sir. Pure human effort, nothing more.’ He lifted his hand and studied it, ‘I had a favour to return, and you allowed me the distinct pleasure of doing so.’

Remembering where they’d discarded the cloth from before, he fetched it up and used it to clean off his hand and Nelson’s stomach. Then, he found the port and settled alongside Nelson again, and they shared the rest of the glass.

The quiet that settled between them was comfortable, but an underlying tension kept them both on edge. Nothing they had done disturbed them; it was what awaited them in Plymouth—well, what awaited Stephen and the officers of the erstwhile Ouragan.

‘What troubles you now?’ Nelson inquired carefully.

‘The court martial.’

‘Well, of course that will. But before that, I suppose you might want to pass that packet along to Blaine, won’t you?’

‘If he’s in Plymouth, he could be in London for all I know.’ Stephen sighed, scratching the bridge of his nose. ‘I suppose I’ll find out when we get there.’

Chapter Text

By the time anyone thought to come for Stephen or Nelson, they were once again fully dressed, and there was no immediate evidence anything untoward had taken place within the cabin. Stephen had carefully washed out the cloth they had used and laid it to dry by the window. The stern windows had been left open to let fresh air into the cabin while the door was locked. He also unlocked the door and set the key in the lock as it had been almost an hour ago.

When the business of clearing away the immediate, condemning evidence of what they’d gotten up to was concluded, Stephen poured two glasses of wine. With wine in hand, and a few more hours of peace, they sat down to talk—this time about Chimeras and how it was to be one and live in society as one.

With Nelson’s permission, Stephen took dutiful, detailed notes on his experiences as a Chimera. He learned when Nelson had become a Chimera, for it was both hereditary and acquired, how it had happened, and his experiences adjusting to the changes.

In Stephen’s case, it was clearly hereditary, the unknown factor was what his Familiar looked like. He assumed it would be similar to his sister’s, but couldn’t say for certain.

‘What was it like, when you Shifted for the first time?’

‘I was with my sisters in our garden, chasing them, and one of our neighbours was visiting my mother. She saw us and commented that I ran after the girls like a loyal dog, and the next thing I knew…’ Nelson made a snapping gesture, ‘There I was, small enough to be tripped over or kicked, and horribly disoriented.’

‘Your Familiar is…a dog?!’ Stephen could only imagine which breed the feisty man had gotten. Something smaller, it sounded like.

‘Aye. A little smaller than the standard, but it’s no guess.’ Nelson chuckled, ‘I startled a few members of my crew the first time I appeared to them in Familiar Form. They didn’t know I was a Chimera and spent almost two hours looking for my master.’

‘Not realising that you were…you.’ He shook his head in wonder, ‘How do you Shift back? My sister has a pendant.’

‘I learned how to do it at liberty early on. It’s easiest for me that way. But many of the Chimeras I know prefer a talisman that they either wear on themselves at all times or leave in the hands of a trusted Keeper.’

‘Like my sister with Captain Miller.’

‘Precisely.’

‘I assume you’ve never attached to a talisman because you never knew anyone you trusted enough to be your Keeper.’

‘It was simply easier and safer for me to be my own Keeper.’ Nelson nodded solemnly. ‘Sometimes, I envy those who have a Keeper, someone in their circle they trust so intimately.’

‘Would you take a talisman for yourself if you found someone you could trust?’

‘In a heartbeat, Stephen.’ Nelson leaned towards him, ‘In a heartbeat. But the life I live, the lifestyle I lead, is too uncertain.’

‘Why not take a talisman regardless? Are you afraid of losing it?’

‘Desperately.’

‘And no one could ever blame you for that fear.’ He took Nelson’s hand, noticing the myriad scars and blemishes from a harsh life lived at sea.

‘Would you like to see him?’

‘Hmm?’ He looked up, caught off-guard by the question.

‘My Familiar. Would you like to see him?’

‘Oh. Do you…trust me that much?’

‘Of course I do!’ That got him a smile, and Nelson told him to pay attention.

He watched as Nelson took off his waistcoat and shirt, setting them aside carefully, and sat still in the chair. He saw a familiar distortion, and then…Nelson was gone. Instead, sitting on the chair, was a medium-sized, scruffy-looking terrier.

‘Oohh!’ He exhaled softly, sliding from his chair to kneel by the Familiar, ‘You’re a terrier! Oh, aren’t you marvellous?’

‘Can you see how I might have caused a bit of concern?’

‘Absolutely! Oh, look at you!’ He chuckled and stroked the soft, wiry fur, ‘Why does this suit you so well?’

‘Because terriers, by our natures, are stubborn, loyal creatures. And, if provoked, can be driven to great violence against much larger opponents.’ And didn’t he just sound so proud of that, too?

Stephen did a brief exam, he always did when encountering a new Chimera.

‘Well, like your Human Form, you’re a little skinnier than I’d like, but you’re healthy. Standard complaints aside, of course.’ He brushed careful fingers over the injured eye, tracing the path of the scar, ‘And your Human injuries translated into your Familiar.’

‘Aye, they do that. Any scars or missing limbs, or broken bones, your Familiar will have the same anomalies.’

‘Fascinating.’ He let Nelson examine him in return, primarily by sniffing nearly every inch of him. There were a few places he got a bit too curious, and Stephen calmly reached down and picked him up.

‘Now, sir, none of that. I can imagine I only smell a bit more like you than I might otherwise. And that is entirely your doing.’

‘You do smell like me! Which you should, too!’ Nelson looked up at him, stubby tail wagging and grey eyes shining, ‘But you also smell like cats!’

‘That might be because of Leah.’ He shrugged, then thought better of that dismissal. ‘Oh, is that why she’s left you alone, do you think?’

‘Perhaps? But I’ve never bothered with her Familiar, and it never occurred to me that Captain Miller’s prissy Calico might just be his own wife.’

‘If she ever heard us say that about her, we are both dead men!’ Stephen burst out laughing. It was such a ridiculous thing—true, but utterly ridiculous.

‘Especially not after she tried to scratch my good eye out once.’

‘I’m so sorry she did that to you. Do you think she knew it was you?’

‘No more than I recognised her as a fellow Chimera. You won’t say anything to her, will you?’

‘Absolutely not! It’s none of her business unless you want it to be.’ He looked over his shoulder at the door, which stood closed but unlocked should someone need them.

‘Well, I know what your sister smells like, but you don’t smell like her Familiar. It’s not quite her scent. It’s…different.’ Nelson circled around him, busy picking up bits and pieces of the way he smelled.

Which, honestly, couldn’t be too pleasant just now. He’d been hard at work collecting and burying the dead sailors of the Ouragan over the past three days and couldn’t honestly remember the last time he’d taken a decent bath. Never mind what he had just done a short while ago with Nelson.

‘So, I smell like cats, but not like Leah. I wonder…’ He trailed off, fingers grazing over Nelson’s coarse fur as he continued investigating. Suddenly, Nelson nipped at his fingers.

‘Ay! Ouch!’ He gave a startled jolt and pulled away sharply, ‘Not good, you.’

But anything else he wanted to say was lost as the world shifted and suddenly went dark. Just for a moment, as if he had blinked, and there was a very uncomfortable sensation of falling. He tried to right himself, but there was no reason to; he hadn’t actually fallen. It was, however, rather dark, and something else was very wrong. What that something was, Stephen didn’t know, but he didn’t feel…right in himself. As if…something had happened to him, but he had no idea what it had been.

‘Ugh! Ouch!’ He tried to get up, but he was stuck, ‘Help!’

‘Coming, dear! Hold on, you.’ That was Nelson; he knew that voice right away.

But there was something wrong with it—not the voice but…the way Nelson…smelled. Stephen smelled “dog,” and something in him said “dog” was dangerous. He couldn’t flee, so fight was his only option. He heard snuffling and clattering very close by, and whatever caused the darkness was moving.

Suddenly, the darkness around him disappeared, and his immediate reaction was to jump. He meant to jump onto the table, but he seriously misjudged and ended up getting knocked back onto the floor. How had he missed that? And why?

‘Stephen, stop! No one is going to hurt you! It’s alright!’ Nelson was there, still, but so was “dog”.

Stephen spun to see where that threat was and got distracted by something in the periphery of his distorted vision. It wasn’t that he couldn’t see, but things looked different.

‘Crios! What happened to me?!’ He tried to find the snake-like thing he’d just seen.

‘Calm down, that’s just your tail.’

‘My what?!’

‘That’s your tail.’ Nelson was laughing, ‘You’re a cat, Stephen Maturin! Your Familiar is a cat!’

‘Oh, damn it.’ He got distracted and fell sideways. Righting himself, he looked for Nelson, who sat nearby. That flight-fight instinct kicked in, but he stayed put.

This one is safe! He told his animal consciousness, using his new senses to re-learn something familiar. It smelled like “dog”, but he smelled more like Nelson, who was safe.

Getting used to this Form would take some time, and he didn’t know how much of it they had. Reaching out one paw, careful to keep his claws in, Stephen flicked at Nelson’s nose. Nelson sneezed, which startled him backwards into a tumble. The noise Stephen made could not be classified, and Nelson came trotting over, nosing at him until he righted himself.

‘You’re a bit of a mess, aye, Maturin?’

‘Oh, shut up.’ He grumbled, settling to groom himself. He wondered if hairballs would be a problem when he wasn’t in Familiar Form. He’d never thought to ask Leah about that, and it had never really come up.

A shout overhead and outside the cabin distracted them, and supersensitive ears twitched. He and Nelson looked at each other and at the door of the cabin.

‘Plymouth.’ Said at the same time in the same disgusted tone of voice. Just then, the door slammed open as a flustered midshipman burst into the cabin, looking for them.

‘Doctor Maturin, Admiral Nelson! We’ve raised Plymouth, sirs!’

‘Thank you, Mister Peterson.’ Nelson said, ‘Come along, Maturin.’

‘After you!’ He gestured with one paw.

‘Doctor Maturin?!’ The lad looked absolutely flabbergasted, ‘You’re a…a cat, sir!’

‘Now I am, son.’ Stephen stopped by the industrious youth and looked up him, ‘You look much taller from here.’

Peterson dropped into a crouch and held out one hand. ‘Oh, you’re handsome, aren’t you? Like your beautiful sister, sir.’

‘Leah has favourites, it seems.’ He chuckled and let Peterson touch him, ‘She’s fond of the young ones, always has been. How did you win her over?’

‘Cheese, sir. I keep a blanket under my hammock, and she’ll sleep there sometimes or with me, sir.’

‘She would do that.’ He flicked his tail around Peterson’s hand, ‘Come along, lad, Plymouth awaits.’

Following Nelson, he found a place to watch on the rail. Nelson sat next to him on one side, and Peterson leaned against the rail on the other.

‘What does it look like to you, sir?’ Peterson asked softly as they began manoeuvring for harbour.

‘Same as it always has, but the colour is different. I only see…blues, greens, and greys. I can’t see anything else.’ Which was slightly disorienting, but the entire experience was disorienting and would take some getting used to.

‘Are you going to stay this way, sir?’

‘I think I might. At least until we settle business aboard the Theseus and the Surprise.’ He was aware that Peterson was holding him still on the railing so he didn’t fall into the harbour, which was very kind of the lad.

He would have to ask one of his Navy contacts to keep an eye on the boy for him if he wasn’t able to do it himself. Certainly, he’d make sure Peterson stayed with Miller and Nelson as long as humanly possible. Peterson and his partner Stace McKellan. They were good, industrious lads with the drive to reach the Captain’s List if they wanted and had been infinitely helpful and useful to Stephen while managing the loss of the Ouragan and the recovery of her deceased crew and the wreckage that washed ashore.

Chapter Text

Once the ships had anchored out, arrangements were made to row to shore and present at the Admiralty office at Devonport. For this, at least, Stephen knew it was better to present in Human Form. He would have time to spend in his Familiar later, now was for business.

Some subtle asking once they were ashore got him a location for Sir Joseph: he was resident of Portsmouth at the moment, but had come over to Plymouth when word of the loss of the Ouragan had reached the Admiralty. Well, that saved him some effort.  So, promising to find the rest of them later, he went to visit his mentor.

‘They won’t be calling the Ouragan officers for a while; why don’t you take Aubrey with you?’ Nelson suggested as Stephen prepared to go his own way.

‘Of course. After all, he held the packet we took from our friends.’ Stephen just nodded. It wasn’t a terrible idea, and Nelson absolutely knew how to reach him if they were needed.

‘Come along, then, Lieutenant. You and I have other business before we throw ourselves to the mercy of the Admiralty.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Aubrey, who hadn’t seen him since leaving Westeray, seemed terribly confused by something. Well, several somethings.

As they left behind the rest of their party, who would make proper apologies and excuses for their absence, Stephen could just hear the wheels turning in Aubrey’s head and looked over his shoulder at the young man.

‘Speak your mind, Aubrey?’

‘I’m sorry, sir, but…you’ve changed since we met in Westeray.’ Aubrey said carefully, ‘Since we left it, I think. Nothing about you is terribly different, but…there’s something…’

‘What was the first thing you noticed?’

‘Well, sir, to be frank, I’m almost dead certain your eyes were blue when we met four days ago.’

‘And, what colour are they now, then?’

‘Not…blue.’ Aubrey looked very confused by this, ‘I know they were blue before! I’m certain of it! But they’ve changed! Green and yellow, now.’

‘You’re a smart lad, Aubrey.’ Stephen chuckled, ‘Not too much escapes your notice, does it?’

‘Oh, plenty does, sir. My father says my head’s full of nothing useful.’

‘Whatever else it might be, it’s not empty.’ Stephen hated parents like that.

‘Your eyes look like Lady Miller’s, sir.’

‘You’ve met Lady Miller, Lieutenant?’

‘Aye, sir. She’s one of the kindest women I know, but not afraid to set a man to rights if she thinks he’s overstepped.’ Aubrey blushed, ‘And her Familiar is one of the most beautiful cats I’ve ever seen in my life.’

‘She’s always been fond of the Youngsters, long as she’s been involved with the Royal Navy.’ He chuckled, ‘She’s currently made a favourite of a few of Miller’s midshipmen.’

‘Peterson and McKellan?’

‘Aye, you know the boys?’

‘We’ve followed each other for a while.’ Aubrey shrugged, ‘How did you meet them?’

‘My brother-in-law is Captain Miller. I took on with the Theseus fairly early in the efforts, and quickly met those two.’

‘Oh, are you the one they talk about?’

‘I can’t imagine it’s all flattering about me.’ He shook his head, ‘You’ll forgive Lady Miller; she knows my worst habits, darkest secrets, and greatest embarrassments and would exploit any one of them for her own amusement if she had half a chance.’

‘If Captain Miller is your brother-in-law, she would be…your sister?’

‘Younger by two years.’

‘I have no siblings. Cousins by the droves, but it’s just me giving my parents any future grandchildren.’

‘I’m so sorry, lad.’ Stephen felt a bit of grief for the boy, knowing what an awful burden that must be.

Once Leah had married off, never mind into the Royal Navy, the onus of marrying and having a family had been taken from Stephen. He was grateful for that, he wasn’t certain his parents would appreciate any marriage he did arrange. There had been the expected wailing and heavenward glances when Patrick and Maire Maturin had learned their daughter’s fancy had been caught by a young officer of the British Royal Navy.

That had entirely been Stephen’s fault, of course. Leah had accompanied him on one of his many ventures to London and incidentally encountered Ralph Willet Miller when Stephen had introduced her to Robert Ferguson and a friend of his. There had been the requisite getting-to-know-you headaches, but not many. Leah’s brash approach to life and spitfire attitude had deeply appealed to Miller’s tastes and the two had found themselves highly compatible. Similar enough to get along, different enough to keep it interesting.

He remembered the courtship being brief, the engagement even shorter, and his sister had married herself off before the New Year had sprung, already pregnant with her husband’s first child. Unfortunately, the child had not survived, and Stephen still remembered the heartbreak of delivering his sister’s stillborn son. Their parents, privately objecting to their daughter’s marriage, had taken the stillbirth as a sign and proclaimed, loudly and to all who would listen, that Leah had somehow angered their ancestors and brought this shame upon their family.

Stephen recalled very clearly the last words he had ever spoken to his parents, spoken in righteous anger.

‘My sister is grieving, she is in unbearable agony, and all you speak of is the shame she brings our family! You are the ones who should be ashamed of yourselves, for this is not how anyone should treat their own!’ He had said, ‘She needs our love, not our judgemental spite! If you cannot see that, then I am sorry for your blindness. Your deliberate, selfish blindness. I am sorry for the smallness of your minds and the bitterness of your hearts. May the Ancients see fit to judge you as you have so harshly judged others.’

His father had said something about how their judgement was only for Leah, who had decided to marry that good-for-nothing Navy man, who had nothing to recommend him and no foreseeable good future.

‘We do not judge you, my son. You have not betrayed us.’

‘Is that what you think of her? Treason? I will not stand for you to speak so of your own daughter!’ Stephen had been livid, standing between Leah and their parents, ‘You may leave this house and never enter it again. Should you darken the doorways of our lives, you will be turned away without welcome. Go, both of you, and reflect upon the day you lost both of your children to your stupid, selfish actions.’

‘Doctor Maturin?’ A touch on his sleeve pulled Stephen back to the present, and he realised they’d reached the lodgings kept by Lord Joseph during his stay in Plymouth.

‘Are…you alright, sir?’

‘I’m so sorry, Aubrey.’ He turned to poor Jack Aubrey, who must have wondered what was wrong with him. ‘Did you say something?’

‘No, sir, but I wonder if I said something out of turn. You got so quiet, I thought you were angry.’

‘Oh. Not with you, my dear.’ He looked up at the windows, then at the door, ‘I was simply remembering a part of my history rather best forgotten.’

‘So, it was something I said.’

‘You had nothing to do with it. We were speaking of troubles with our parents, that is all.’

‘You don’t speak to your parents anymore, do you?’

‘I have not spoken to them for nearly five years, and I don’t intend to speak to them again in the near or distant future.’ He knocked on the door, ‘It was my decision when they disgraced my sister for something entirely out of her control.’

‘I’m so sorry that happened, sir. Your sister is one of the kindest, most charming women I’ve ever met. And Captain Miller treats me well.’

‘It is in their natures to be kind to those in need of it, son.’ He looked up again as the door was pulled open by a housekeeper, who looked out at the pair of them and raised an eyebrow.

‘Can I help you, gentlemen?’

‘Yes, ma’am. Is Sir Joseph at home? We have urgent business with him.’

‘He’s about to leave for the post, sirs.’

‘We would see him before he leaves, madam. This is very important.’ Stephen did not look anywhere but at the housekeeper, ‘My name is Maturin, you may tell him so. He will see us.’

‘Can’t promise he’ll be in any decent mood.’ The woman shrugged and stood aside to let them in.

They followed her into a study, where they found the master of the house preparing to go out.

‘What is it, Marcy? I told you not to let anyone in, I’m leaving soon!’ Blaine snarled, ‘Marcus insisted I get involved with this when I have plenty of other…business.’ His righteous irritation faded a bit as he caught sight of Stephen.

‘Oh, what are you doing here, Maturin? I have enough problems without yours making it worse.’

‘I apologise for the lack of communications, sir.’ He swept off his hat and dropped a polite bow to his irritated employer, ‘But something’s come up, and I thought you had better find out from me first.’

‘If this has anything to do with the Ouragan, I’ll burn it first.’

‘I’m afraid it does, sir.’ He looked at Aubrey, who followed his example. ‘I brought one of her lieutenants to see you, sir. He has something to give you.’

‘Jesus, Jack Aubrey?!’ Blaine’s eyes widened as Aubrey bowed, ‘Christ, boy, I haven’t seen you in years! Was that you, then?’

‘I’m so sorry, Sir Joseph. Captain Blakeney got these letters from a captured Frenchman we took a week ago. He wanted to make sure you got them before the French did.’ Aubrey held out the packet, ‘They nearly did get them back, sir, but not for trying.’

‘Christ, son, you look awful.’ Blaine took the packet and broke the seal, eyes flying across the contents at lightning speed, ‘They say the Ouragan sits at the bottom of the channel, boy, how did you survive?’

‘Blakeney and Andrews threw me over the rail, told me to swim if I could.’

‘And…how did you get involved, Maturin?’ Pieces were coming together for Blaine, and he looked suspiciously at Stephen, ‘You don’t bother with the Navy on a good day.’

‘Hard to stay out of it when their problems washed up on the beaches of Westeray and Calenfell. I rescued Lieutenant Aubrey the morning after the encounter that sunk the Ouragan.’ Stephen shrugged, ‘The Phoenix and the Endeavour have been captured, the Icarus fled to safety. I’m not certain where she took shelter, not likely far from where they were engaged.’

‘I got a letter from Ferguson they’d picked her up just off the coast of Hastings the next morning. The Maximus brought her back.’ Blaine folded the packet and put it in a locked drawer, moving on to collect his coat and hat, ‘It was a risky thing you did to get me that intelligence.’

‘It was nothing we thought twice of doing, sir.’ Aubrey said with more conviction than he felt.

‘Your heart’s in the right place, Aubrey, but you’re a little reckless at times.’ Blaine passed Aubrey with a chuckle, patting the lad on the shoulder, ‘You both have answering to do, I’ll see you over. Come along, gentlemen.’

‘After you, sir.’ Stephen stood aside to let his employer go first.

The walk from Blaine’s lodgings to the Admiralty post was quiet, they didn’t speak to each other. Except for one question Blaine had for Stephen.

‘Last I saw of you, Maturin, I’ll be damned if your eyes were still blue.’ He looked over his shoulder at Stephen, ‘When did that change, then?’

‘Yesterday, I think, sir.’ He shrugged, ‘It’s exactly what you think, sir.’

‘Huh. Guess you get it from the family line, then.’ Blaine shook his head, ‘Nelson’s was acquired. Interesting way to find out, that was.’

‘You’re acquainted with Admiral Nelson, sir?’ Aubrey asked quietly.

‘Aye, I know that renegade. More trouble than he’s worth at times, but a damn fine leader.’ Blaine looked at the two of them, ‘I suppose you two had the questionable luck of making his acquaintance, then?’

‘We’ve met, sir.’

‘I don’t believe that innocent look of yours for a damn minute, Maturin.’ Blaine narrowed his eyes at Stephen, ‘How did you two meet, then?’

‘I have the reports for you, sir, I’ll give them to you after the court martial.’ He looked up as they came upon that awful façade. ‘But we were first acquainted some years ago in Whitehall.’

‘Huh. There’s more you aren’t telling me, I’ve taught you well, then.’ Blaine chuckled and held the door for them, ‘After you, gentlemen.’  

Going inside, they were informed that the trial would be taking place aboard HMS Victory, which had anchored out in the harbour two days ago. Stephen watched the colour drain from Aubrey’s face and put a hand on the lad’s shoulder.

‘Jesus.’ Aubrey whined, trembling. Stephen worried for a moment that the panic would trigger a Shift, and he wasn’t sure how he could handle that.

‘Easy, son.’ He murmured, ‘Come on, then. I’m right here with you.’

‘Get him out of here if that’s what he’s going to do, Maturin.’ Blaine hissed, taking Aubrey’s other arm. ‘Forward, Aubrey, one step at a time, son.’

They got as far as the street before Stephen found himself half-way to his knees as Aubrey collapsed. His Chimera took over, and Stephen found himself with his arms full of a frightened otter.

‘Oh, dear.’ He looked at Blaine, who looked properly awestruck, ‘Nelson warned me this happens. I didn’t think this would trigger a spontaneous Shift.’

‘Come on, then.’ Blaine helped him stand, ‘Can you carry him?’

‘As far as I must.’ He resettled the trembling weight in his arms, ‘Come along, dear, you’ll be alright. Just calm down a little.’

‘I’m so sorry, Doctor Maturin! I don’t know what happened!’

‘You panicked, dear one. It’s just that simple. In stress or danger, sometimes your Chimera pulls you into your Familiar. It’s a defence mechanism.’

‘Still. I’m sorry you have to deal with this mess.’

‘I don’t mind at all. And remember what I told you before?’

‘About standing up for me if the Board makes it too hard on me?’

‘Precisely. I meant every word of it.’ He stroked the golden stripes on Aubrey’s head, ‘You have such lovely markings, dear.’

All he got for that was a soft chirr, and Aubrey decided to try climbing onto his shoulder.

‘Well, that works, too!’ He chuckled as his young friend found a comfortable perch, ‘Come along, then. We have business aboard the Victory.’

‘She’s a beautiful ship, I just wish this wasn’t the first time I get to see her properly.’ Aubrey mused sadly, wrapped around Stephen’s neck and shoulders like a furry stole.

Stephen hoped this would go in their favour, but if he knew anything about the Board that would be trying them, it would be a harsh experience for all of them. Especially for him, as a civilian outsider. He thought again of Nelson’s push for him to take a warrant, and how it had never been his goal. Until three days ago, when he had found himself intimately involved with the Royal Navy on so many levels it was baffling. He already had connections, but his direct involvement had been extremely limited. By his choice, of course. That, it seemed, was going to change in the near future.

Chapter Text

Returning to the harbour, they made their way to the Victory, which was as fine a ship as any Stephen had seen. Certainly, one of the finest first rates. Unfortunately, their dismal business made it hard to appreciate their surroundings. Stephen immediately retreated to his party, giving his excuses to Sir Joseph.

‘Don’t apologise to me, Maturin. I’ll be watching, not partaking.’ Blaine said as they shook hands, ‘Look after Aubrey for us, will you?’

‘Absolutely, sir. And when I can’t, Nelson and the captains certainly will.’ He promised, looking over his shoulder at Aubrey, who stood nearby in Human Form, looking pale and frightened.

It had taken some pretty coaxing to get him back, but they’d managed. At the moment, he stood between Miller and Ferguson, who chatted with a few other officers. Stephen sighed, feeling so sorry for the lad.

‘What do you suppose he’s worried about?’

‘Possibly getting run out.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘I can’t say I blame the boy. For all the Board knows, he abandoned his post in the middle of engagement and says he was thrown over the rail to save his own skin.’

‘I suspect Mister Andrews will be happy to set the record right, then.’ Blaine said drolly. Sure enough, Mark Andrews had joined the small group.

‘He certainly would. It was his idea, after all.’ Stephen nodded, ‘If you’ll excuse me.’

‘Of course, Maturin.’ Blaine just smiled and let him go.

Stephen was quick to join his party, resting one hand on Aubrey’s shoulder. The lad gave such a start he nearly cleared the floor.

‘Oh! It’s just you, Doctor Maturin!’ The relief on the boy’s face was heartbreaking. The rest of them chuckled kindly.

‘Jumpy, aren’t you, Aubrey?’

‘I’m so sorry, sir.’ Aubrey flushed, ‘I’m so…’

‘We know you’re nervous, son, and you should be.’ One of the other captains shot a look at the door of the great cabin, ‘Admiral Kent’s in a foul mood already. He’ll make you think it’s personal, but you are not his target.’

‘That man is the master of mind-games, and I’ve never cared for it.’ Stephen said gruffly. ‘I swear he takes pleasure in watching his targets squirm because he knows he gets away with it.’

‘Of course he does.’

‘Admiral Nelson!’ Stephen was one of the only people unbothered by Nelson’s sudden appearance.

‘At ease, gentlemen.’ Nelson waved them down, ‘It’s alright.’

‘Sir.’ Puzzled, uneasy looks were traded, but when an admiral said, “Stand down”, you did what he said.

‘A word in private, if I may, Doctor Maturin.’ Nelson gave him a significant look.

‘Of course, sir.’ He didn’t even think to question, ‘If you’ll all excuse me, gentlemen.’

‘Where are you going?’ Aubrey asked, frightened of losing any support he might get here.

‘Not too far.’ He promised, ‘I’ll be right in view, son. Stay with Ferguson and Miller, alright?’

‘Yes, sir.’ Aubrey just nodded and looked around. ‘Oh, there you are!’

His distraction, perfectly timed and so typical, was Leah in Familiar. Stephen chuckled as Aubrey reached down and picked her up. Leah rubbed her head against Aubrey’s and settled on his shoulders.

‘Thank you, Leah.’

‘I figured no one would bother me like this, and who cares if there’s another cat underfoot?’ She looked at him, ‘Go on, you. I’ll keep our handsome lieutenant company for a while.’

Stephen and Nelson shared an amused look and chuckled as Aubrey blushed.

‘She does that more often than not, I’m afraid.’ Nelson whispered as they stepped away to speak in private. ‘I’ve caught her a number of times with the lieutenants and the midshipmen.’

‘I doubt they mind terribly.’ Stephen kept an eye on his sister.

‘Hardy is particularly fond of her.’

‘Thomas Hardy?’

‘Aye.’

‘Oh, I thought I saw him while we were on the Theseus.’ Stephen nodded. ‘What did you want of me?’

‘A few moments in peace.’ Nelson shrugged as they observed the comings and goings, ‘You got the packet to Blaine?’

‘We did. He was glad to have it.’

‘He would be. Have you thought any on your future with the Royal Navy?’

‘Aye. I suspect I’d be more use to you if I wasn’t obligated to a landbound entity.’

‘More use to me?’

‘Not that I don’t trust Thomas, of course.’ Stephen caught sight of Eshelby nearby with Read, chatting in low, solemn tones. ‘But if I thought for a moment I could trust you to behave yourself when my back was turned in absence, I would go back to Westeray tomorrow or find a practice in Portsmouth.’

‘You don’t trust me, though.’

‘Not at all. I know more than enough about your penchant for getting into trouble; that’s not something I’m about to let you get into without me there.’

‘I suspect this isn’t a doctor’s compassion speaking.’

‘Like hell, it is.’ He muttered, looking over his shoulder as the next gun sounded and the door of the cabin opened.

A pale-faced man in a blue coat emerged, followed by the master-at-arms and a pair of Marines.

‘Oh, that poor fellow.’

‘Hmm? Ah, that’s Mister Archer.’ Nelson clearly recognised the man, ‘Damn fool got himself caught up for buggery.’

‘Gods have mercy because we won’t.’ Stephen sighed.

It was one thing to partake of the reviled practice, it was another entirely to be caught in the act of it or brought up on charges and proven guilty. He couldn’t be certain which was the case for the unfortunate Mister Archer, but he knew damn well a ship was about to lose a warrant officer.

The cabin was almost completely silent as Archer and his escort passed, disappearing below-decks, and for a good while after. One of those great lapses of time that presently come to have no flow at all, but grow stagnant or even circular in motion. The other officers talked in low voices. They were all dressed with particular attention, in the exact uniform regularity that plenty of prize-money and the best Plymouth outfitters could provide. Was it respect for the court? For the occasion? A residual sense of guilt, a placating of fate? They spoke quietly, equably, glancing at Nelson and Stephen from time to time.

It was interesting to note that, for the first time since he’d joined efforts with them, not one of the officers in the cabin wore their swords. None of them, as it was a rule of the court to attend unarmed. He did not miss how so many of them held their hands in a familiar grip, though there was nothing to hold. They had each received an official notification the day before, and for some reason, each had brought it with him, folded or rolled.

Hardy wrote and scratched out on the back of his, counting syllables on his fingers and silently mouthing. Philips stared straight ahead of him into vacancy. Stephen watched Aubrey, who sat on the deck with his legs folded beneath him, Leah curled on his lap as they talked. He had no idea what they talked about, but it was clear his sister was keeping Aubrey calm. He appreciated her presence; she had no reason to involve herself in this matter as she had, but he also knew there was no stopping her when she had her mind set on something.

There was a sudden interruption of the quiet as the door opened, Stephen was not the only man who flinched. Nelson picked up his laced hat and walked into the great cabin, with his officers filing in behind him. He came to a halt in the middle of the room, tucked his hat under his arm and made his bow to the court, first to the president, then to the captains to the right of him, then to the captains to the left of him. The president gave a slight inclination of his head and desired Admiral Nelson and his officers to sit down. A Marine placed a chair for Aubrey, as the most senior of the Ouragan’s officers in attendance, a few paces in front of the rest, and there he sat, his hand going to hitch forward his non-existent sword, while the judge advocate read the document authorising the court to assemble.

This took a considerable time, and Stephen looked steadily about him, examining the cabin from side to side: it was like a larger version of the Theseus’ stateroom and it, too, was singularly beautiful and full of light – the same range of curved stern-windows, the same inward-leaning side-walls (the ship’s tumblehome, in fact) and the same close, massive white-painted beams overhead in extraordinarily long pure curves right across from one side to another: a room in which common domestic geometry had no say. At the far end from the door, parallel with the windows, ran a long table; and between the table and the light sat the members of the court, the president in the middle, the black-coated judge-advocate at a desk in front and three post-captains on either side. There was a clerk at a small table on the left and, to the left again, a roped-off space for bystanders.

The atmosphere was austere: all the heads above the blue and gold uniforms on the far side of the shining table were grave. The last trial and the sentence had been quite shockingly painful. It was these heads, these faces, that had all Stephen’s attention. With the light behind them, it was difficult to make them out exactly, but they were mostly overcast, and all were withdrawn. Kent, Jackson, Palmer, Grenville, he knew. The president looked rather younger than his true years, but still, his face was impassive, and there was no distinguishing the expression of his eyes behind those drooping lids.

The other captains he knew only by name. One, a left-handed man, was drawing – scribbling. This deeply annoyed Stephen for some reason.

The judge-advocate’s voice droned on. ‘His Majesty’s late Frigate Ouragan having been ordered to proceed … and whereas it is represented that in or about …’ he said, amidst universal indifference.

That man loves his trade, thought Stephen. But what a wretched voice. It is almost impossible to be understood. Gabble, a professional deformation in lawyers.

And he was reflecting on industrial disease, on the corrosive effects of righteousness in judges, when he noticed that Aubrey had relaxed from his first rigid posture: and as the formalities went on and on this relaxation became more evident. He was looking sullen, oddly still and dangerous; the slight lowering of his head and the dogged way in which he stuck out his feet made a singular contrast with the perfection of his uniform, and Stephen had a strong premonition that disaster might be very close at hand.

The judge advocate had now reached ‘… to enquire into the conduct of John Aubrey, Third Lieutenant of His Majesty’s late frigate the Ouragan for the loss of the said frigate by being captured by a French squadron and destroyed,’ and Jack’s head was lower still.

‘How far is one entitled to manipulate one’s friends?’ asked Stephen, writing Nothing would give H greater pleasure than an outburst of indignation on your part at this moment on a corner of his paper: he passed it to Andrews, pointing to Jack.

Andrews passed it on through Philips. Jack read it, turned a lowering, grim face toward Stephen without much apparent understanding, and jerked his head.

Almost immediately afterwards, Charles Stirling, the senior captain and president of the court-martial, cleared his throat and said, ‘Lieutenant Aubrey, pray relate the circumstances of the loss of His Majesty’s late frigate, the Ouragan.’

Aubrey rose to his feet, looked sharply along the line of the judges, drew his breath, and spoke in a much stronger voice than usual, the words coming fast, with odd intervals and an unnatural intonation – a harsh, God-damn-you voice, as though he were addressing a most inimical body of men – he said, ‘About six o’clock in the morning of the twenty-third, to the eastward and in sight of Calais, we saw a frigate, apparently French. Or Spanish, we couldn’t be sure when we sighted her first. A short chase ensued, and we took her after a few hours’ engagement.’

‘What was ‘a few hours’ engagement’, Lieutenant?’ Jackson interrupted.

‘Two and a half hours, Your Honour, we chased the Mariana.’ God bless him, Aubrey said that with a straight face. ‘And once we’d taken her, we came into possession of letters. These letters were not opened by my captain or any of the officers.’

‘So, you don’t know what these letters were?’

‘The letters were for Commodore Galin.’

‘Who were they from?’

‘Napoleon Bonaparte, Your Honour. I recognised the seal.’

‘How did you go from seizing a French frigate to being chased by six ships?’

‘Because the Mariana was not alone, as we had thought.’ Aubrey stiffened, ‘We soon sighted five large ships and a frigate, who soon after gave chase to the Ouragan: the Ouragan was between the shore and the ships that chased her, and to windward of the French vessels: we endeavoured by making all sail and were pulling with sweeps – as the wind was very light – to keep to windward of the enemy; but having found notwithstanding all our endeavours to keep to the wind, that the French ships gained very fast, and having separated on different tacks one or the other gained upon each shift of wind, and finding it impracticable to escape by the wind, about nine o’clock the guns and other things on deck were thrown overboard, and having watched an opportunity, when the nearest French ship was on our quarter, we bore up and set the studdingsails; but again found the French ships outsailed us though their studdingsails were not set.’

‘When did you encounter the other three ships involved?’

‘We sighted the Phoenix first, and turned our course to intercept her, signalling our distress. She was followed by the Icarus, and the Endeavor, and it wasn’t long before we were able to take up with them.’ Aubrey wasn’t looking at anyone in particular, he seemed to be focused on a point above Jackson’s head. ‘We had the element of surprising the French, who imagined we had been alone.’

‘Which you had been, until you were spotted by our ships and assisted.’ Grenville spoke up for the first time since they’d started, ‘We have yet to speak to any of those surviving officers. Would they tell us the same story you have, Lieutenant Aubrey?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Bring us to the loss of your ship, Lieutenant Aubrey.’

‘When the nearest Frenchman had approached within musket-shot, Captain Blakeney ordered the colours to be hauled down, having received several broadsides from the enemy which carried away the maintopgallantmast and foretopsail yard and cut several of the ropes.’ Then, though he was conscious of the singular ineptitude of this speech, he shut his mouth tight and stood looking straight ahead of him, while the clerk’s pen squeaked nimbly after his words, writing ‘and cut several of the ropes’.

Here there was a slight pause, in which the president glanced left and right and coughed again before speaking. The clerk drew a quick flourish after ropes and hurried on:

Question by the court:  Lieutenant Aubrey, have you any reason to find fault with any of your officers or ship’s company?

Answer: No. The utmost endeavour was used by every person on board.

Question by the court: Lieutenant Aubrey, how did you become separated from your ship and company?

Answer: I was given the letters taken from the Mariana for safekeeping by Captain Blakeney and told to jump over the taffrail on the advice of Mister Andrews, Ship’s Master. We were all agreed it was the best course of action if the letters were to remain in British possession.

‘Let all the evidence withdraw except Mister Mark Andrews,’ said the judge-advocate, and presently, the rest of the company found themselves in the dining cabin again, sitting perfectly mute in odd corners.

At the same time, from the one side, the distant shrieking of the unfortunate Mister Archer echoed up from the cockpit (he had made a determined attempt at suicide), and from the other, the drone of the trial went on.

They could hear Aubrey’s voice now, formal, savage and much louder than the rest of the voices in the court, saying, ‘Did the enemy fire several broadsides at us, and at what distance were we when they fired the last?’

Mr Andrews’s reply was a murmur, indistinguishable through the bulkhead.

‘This is an entirely irrational fear,’ said Stephen, looking at his palm. ‘It is but one more instance of the … for surely to God, surely for all love, if they had wished to sink him they would have asked: “How came you to be there?” But then, I know very little of nautical affairs.’

He looked for comfort among his associates, but he found none there. Not that he had really expected to find any. They were all here on the same dismal business and none of them wanted to be.

‘Doctor Maturin,’ said the marine, opening the door. Stephen walked in slowly and took the oath with particular deliberation, trying to sense the atmosphere of the court: he thus gave the clerk time to catch up with Andrews’s evidence, and the shrill pen wrote:

Question: Did she gain on the Ouragan without her studdingsails set?

Answer: Yes.

Question by the court: Did they seem to sail much faster than you?

Answer: Yes, both by and large.

Dr Maturin, a citizen of Westeray town, called and sworn.

Question by the court: Is the statement you heard made by Lieutenant Aubrey and Mister Andrews respecting the loss of Ouragan correct as far as your observation went?

Answer: I think it is.

‘Are you a sufficient judge of nautical affairs to know whether every effort was used to escape from the force that was pursuing the Ouragan?’ Alexander Kent studied him with a familiar, narrow-eyed glare.

‘I know very little of nautical affairs, aside from my affiliations with several of the sworn officers.’ Stephen responded coldly, ‘I observed the engagement from shore the night of the storm, but I did not know the names of the ships involved until the following morning.’

‘How did you come to be involved in this matter at all if you had nothing to do with it?’

‘I was on the beach by Westerfell Cliffs at sunset, walking as I searched for shells. And I noticed the sky getting quite dark. Before the rain took the visibility, I was able to make out ten distinct sails.’ He stiffened his shoulders and settled a withering look upon his judges, ‘Four of them were ours, and I prayed that night for the souls of our sailors and officers. The next morning, I recovered Lieutenant Aubrey from the beach and began my efforts to do whatever else I could on behalf of the lost Ouragan and her crew.’

‘And when you decided to take it upon yourself to interfere in Naval affairs, what did you suppose would happen?’

‘I would not consider offering assistance and aid to the Royal Navy caring for three stranded survivors and collecting and committing the numerous dead of the Ouragan, with the blessing of Admiral Nelson to do so, an interference, Captain Jackson. And neither would the captains and officers I cooperated with over the course of three days.’

‘What do you know of the letters Lieutenant Aubrey was charged with carrying, Doctor Maturin?’

‘Nothing. I facilitated a meeting between Lieutenant Aubrey and Lord Blaine, that is the only involvement I have in it.’

Ten minutes later, the court was cleared. The dining-cabin again, and no hesitation about precedence in the doorway this time, for Aubrey and Mr Andrews were there: they were all there, and not one of them spoke a word. Could that be laughter in the next room, or did the sound come from the wardroom of the Theseus?

A long pause. A long, long pause: and the marine at the door.

‘If you please, gentlemen.’

They filed in, and in spite of all his years at sea, Aubrey forgot to duck: he struck the lintel of the door with a force that left a patch of yellow hair and scalp on the wood, and he walked on, almost blinded, to stand rigidly by his chair. Stephen winced and knew he’d be taking care of that as soon as he had a chance for it. Poor lad, he’d be cross-eyed for certain. A sympathetic noise was uttered by the rest of them, and someone put a hand under Aubrey’s elbow.

The clerk looked up from writing the word “Sentence”, startled by the crash, and then looked down again to commit the judge-advocate’s words to writing.

^

‘At a court-martial assembled and held on board His Majesty’s Ship Victory in Plymouth … the court (being first duly sworn) proceeded in pursuance of an order from Sir Alexander Jameson Kent. Rear-Admiral of the Blue and … and having examined witnesses on the occasion, and maturely and deliberately considered every circumstance …’

The droning, expressionless voice went on, and its tone was so closely allied to the ringing in Jack Aubrey’s head that he heard virtually none of it, any more than he could see the man’s face through the watering of his eyes.

‘… the court is of the opinion that Lieutenant Aubrey, Captain Blakeney’s officers and ship’s company used every possible exertion to prevent the King’s sloop from falling into the hands of the enemy: and do therefore honourably acquit them. And they are hereby acquitted accordingly,’ said the judge-advocate, and Jack heard none of it.

The inaudible voice stopped, and Jack’s blurred vision saw the black form sit down. He shook his singing head, tightened his jaw and compelled his faculties to return; for here was the president of the court getting to his feet. Jack’s clearing eyes caught Jackson’s smile, saw Captain Stirling pick up that familiar, rather shabby sword, holding it with its hilt towards him, while with his left hand he smoothed a piece of paper by the inkwell.

The president cleared his throat again in the dead silence, and speaking in a clear, seamanlike voice that combined gravity, formality and cheerfulness, he said, ‘Lieutenant Aubrey: it is no small pleasure to me to receive the commands of the court I have the honour to preside at, that in delivering to you your sword, I should congratulate you upon its being restored and in fact replaced; hoping ere long you will be called upon to draw it once more in the honourable defence of your country.’

‘Thank you, sirs.’ It was the only thing he could think of saying, and took the sword he had surrendered what felt like days ago. But this wasn’t the same sword; in fact, that one had been lost to the depths of the Channel during the engagement with the French. This was a new sword, and he accepted it with a touch of hesitation. Drawing it out of the scabbard just enough to see the blade, he looked to his right. There, Admiral Nelson, beaming and content. Was this his doing?

‘Thank you, sirs.’ He repeated himself, bowing deeply to the Board.

Turning on his heel, he left the cabin without looking left or right, though he was very much aware of his fellows patting him on the shoulders and congratulating him. As soon as he was clear, he bolted for the upper decks. He needed air. He needed to breathe again.

They didn’t demote me! He thought wildly. They didn’t drum me out! Thank the Ancients! Oh, thank Gods. Leaning against the rail, he looked over the side of the massive first rate to the distant water and lowered his head.

‘Crios.’ He muttered.

It was over; he’d come out with his rank intact, if not his dignity. It was more than he’d hoped for and more than he thought he deserved.

Chapter Text

As he left the cabin of the Victory, Stephen looked to his left.

‘Where do you suppose he’s gone?’

‘Above-decks, if we’re lucky he hasn’t already gone ashore again.’

‘And none of us would blame him if he had.’ He sighed, ‘Well, I can hope I never have to deal with Kent again for several years.’

‘Don’t hold your breath.’ Nelson put a hand on his shoulder, ‘Come along, let’s find Aubrey and get him out of here.’

‘After you.’ He held out one hand to Nelson and they went up.

Finding Jack Aubrey didn’t take very long, he was standing by the taffrail, looking over the side.

‘Putting himself back together, if I had to wager.’ Nelson whispered as they watched the troubled young man.

‘When was he made, then?’

‘Aubrey?’

‘Aye.’

‘A month or two. Miller would know. The Ouragan was his first posting out of the Quarterdeck.’

‘And by God, it will not be his last.’ He muttered. ‘I would have given them more of my mind if I’d had a chance to.’

‘You minded yourself well, I would have been less polite.’

‘Which I imagine is why they made a point of keeping you on the sidelines for most of it.’ Stephen shook his head as he risked touching Aubrey.

‘I’m not going to jump.’

‘I know you won’t.’ He kept his voice gentle, ‘You did well, son, you did very well. And you were cleared of guilt.’

‘Not that I was guilty in the first place.’

‘Of course you weren’t, and we knew that.’ Stephen tugged on the lad’s shoulder, waiting for him to turn around, ‘Look at me, Jack Aubrey.’

‘Why?’

‘Because I’m asking. Give me your hand.’ He reached down and took the boy’s left hand, clenched tightly around the hilt of his new sword, ‘Let go, son, it’s over now. You can relax.’

It took a moment of patience to loosen his fingers and turn over his hand, but he was allowed to make that point of contact.

‘What do you want?’ Aubrey whispered, his voice a husky rumble.

‘To get you out of here. Back to somewhere safe. Somewhere safer than here.’ He looked over at Nelson, who was more than a bit impatient to be off. They all were, quite frankly. Aubrey just nodded, and they took their leave of the first rate.

‘Someday, I’ll come back here.’ Aubrey looked over his shoulder as they headed back to shore, ‘Someday, it won’t be trouble that takes me aboard that ship, I’ll come on my own.’

‘Aye, lad. Keep your head up.’ Nelson said wisely. Stephen chuckled.

It was quiet until they got to shore, at which time they set off for a nearby hotel, where they got three rooms for the night. They didn’t plan on being in Plymouth much longer, so one night would be enough. Once they had their keys, Stephen suggested they get something to eat. So, it was off to find somewhere to get a meal.

They ended up at a small, cozy restaurant called The Mayflower on the other side of Plymouth Sound. The place catered to the Navy, as most establishments did, so they weren’t bothered beyond the necessary hospitality. Stephen ordered the wine, Nelson took care of the food, and everything was shared between the three of them over the course of two or three hours.

The only real interruption was a welcome one, and it was only because Stephen spotted his brother-in-law that he knew they were about to have company.

‘Ah.’ He chuckled into his wine, ‘Look sharp, gentlemen. We’re about to have company.’

‘Hmm?’ Aubrey quickly looked over his shoulder and relaxed as soon as he recognised the Millers. ‘Oh, it’s just them. Thank God.’

‘Hush, boy.’ Nelson scolded.

‘Good afternoon, Captain.’

‘Sirs.’ Miller grinned as he swept off his hat, ‘I thought we might find you holed up somewhere. Are you alright, Aubrey?’

‘Better, sir. Thank you.’

‘Join us, if you’d like.’ Nelson gestured to a few empty seats. ‘We’ll be glad to have you.’

‘Very kind of you, sir.’ Miller held the chair for his wife to sit first so that Stephen sat next to his sister, settling between Aubrey and Nelson. This placed Leah between Stephen and Aubrey, which was quite to the young man’s liking.

‘Thank you.’ He mouthed to his brother-in-law as Aubrey paid proper attention to Leah. Miller just smiled and raised an eyebrow.

Stephen signalled the waiter and requested two more plates and glasses, as well as another bottle of wine.

‘Of course, sir, right away.’ The waiter just smiled and hurried off, returning very shortly with the requested items.

‘Do you need anything else, sirs?’

‘No, thank you, Kirk.’ Nelson said calmly, sending the man away again.

Once they were all settled, Stephen used the opportunity to observe. He was aware of being observed, of course, and glanced sideways to meet Nelson’s grey regard. Some part of him suspected that it wasn’t just the conclusion of the court-martial that had Nelson looking pleased with himself.

‘Stephen?’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ He turned back to his sister, who rolled her eyes at him.

‘Oh, none of that.’ She scoffed, ‘No, I had a question for you.’

‘I suppose I may have an answer for you?’

‘When did your eyes change colour?’

‘Ah.’ He chuckled, ‘Within the last two days, at least. Yesterday, at the latest. We suspect it happened because I spent so much time around other Chimeras.’

‘Hmm. I wonder.’ Her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, ‘What does your Familiar look like?’

‘A cat. Like yours, but that is the only similarity between us.’

‘Oh? And how did he handle it?’ She looked meaningfully at Nelson. ‘You know what his Familiar is.’

‘Aye, that I do. Instinct never kicked in on his part, though it nearly did on mine.’ He shrugged, remembering the blind panic he’d felt when he was aware of “dog”, but not the source of it. ‘And whoever it was that decided cats land on their feet, I would like a word with them. Because we most decidedly do not always land on our feet.’

‘Oh, dear.’ Miller stifled a snicker, ‘What did you fall off of, then?’

‘I didn’t, I tried to jump onto something and misjudged both the distance and the height. It did not end well.’

‘You’re clearly not hurt.’

‘Only my pride, nothing more.’ He shrugged, taking the glass Nelson handed him, ‘Thank you, dear.’

‘Pass your glasses here, Miller.’

‘Sir.’ Miller obediently handed over the other three glasses, which were all refilled. ‘Is that what had Peterson so enamoured while we made port?’

‘Precisely.’

‘God bless that boy. We could use more like him.’ Aubrey murmured, ‘He’s such a sweet, devoted lad.’

‘I know someone else like that.’ Stephen whispered to Nelson, not missing how Aubrey’s ears turned pink. Nelson chuckled into his wine, leaning back in his chair a bit. The shift covered a brief caress, and Stephen carefully dropped his hand into his lap, inviting another touch.

It was another hour before all plates were empty and the wine had been drunk, but it was an hour well-spent with good company. While Aubrey and Nelson returned to their hotel, Stephen saw the Millers back to the harbour.

‘So, what’s this I hear about you coming with us?’ His brother-in-law inquired, ‘I thought I heard you say something to Nelson while we were aboard the Victory.’

‘Aye, you heard right.’ Stephen looked up at the blue sky, ‘I don’t often get the push to leave everything I know behind, but this once, I’ve decided to listen.’

‘Oh, it was him?’

‘Or Aubrey.’ He shrugged, ‘I’m not sure it wasn’t both of them, considering how close together I encountered them.’

‘So, it’s off to sea with you, then.’

‘And you’re not getting rid of me that easy.’ He looked at his brother-in-law, ‘I have no idea what misadventure awaits, but I’m going to follow Nelson as long as he’ll let me.’

‘I wonder what’s so different about him. You’ve never shown an inch of interest in coming to sea with us, and Gods know how many times we’ve asked.’ Miller wrinkled his nose, ‘Even the girls have asked for you! What’s the difference this time?’

‘He is. They both are.’ Stephen sighed, ‘It’s…impossible.’

‘I knew you’d get along with him if you had a chance to put things right between you.’ Leah smiled.

‘And we took the chance we got.’

‘And Aubrey?’

‘That lad has the world at his fingertips if he wants it. There’s something special about him, and I’ll certainly be keeping an eye on his career.’

‘Never let it be said you’re a stupid man, Stephen Maturin, or a cold-hearted bastard.’ Leah leaned against him, content, ‘And you’ve been called both in the past.’

‘Not recently, and I fear if anyone tried now, they’d find themselves at the wrong end of a sword for the trouble.’

‘I suspect you wouldn’t mind terribly if that happened.’ Miller patted him on the shoulder, ‘You could honestly do worse than Nelson, but I would love to know how you broke him down so quickly. He’s never been the first one to bow.’

‘It was a mutual effort if that’s any business of yours.’ He huffed, ‘And leave him alone on it.’

‘Oh, I value my career more than risking it to put my nose in that man’s private affairs.’ Miller said quietly, ‘Mind yourself, though. You’ll be getting a great deal more attention than you used to once word gets out.’

‘About what?’

‘It’s not every day a civilian doctor heads up a three-day effort to recover the crew of a sunken frigate, practically giving orders to any number of Navy men.’

‘I got involved because I saw it happen. I saw it happen, I saw the immediate aftermath the next morning, and I knew I had to see it to whatever end I could get.’ Stephen looked out at the masts visible from their position, ‘There she is.’

‘Good old Theseus.’ Miller put out a signal and they waited for the launch to come, ‘We’ll see about quartering for you, since you’ll be with us for longer than a few days.’

‘Give my regards to Doctor Eshelby, I look forward to spending a bit more time with him.’

‘He absolutely won’t mind having another pair of hands, especially yours.’ Miller flicked a speck of dust from the brim of his hat, ‘You two were schoolmates, weren’t you?’

‘Aye, so it’s not complete strangers between us.’

‘Sleep well tonight, brother.’ Leah hugged him tightly as the launch arrived, bumping against the dock. ‘And good luck with Nelson.’

‘Hush, Leah.’ He shook his head at her, ‘Mind yourself.’

‘I always do, brother.’ She promised, allowing him to help her down into the launch.

Stephen waited until the launch was out of sight before leaving the docks and returning to the hotel.

Chapter Text

In good spirits, Stephen went up to his room but didn’t go in right away. The door across the hall was propped open; if he wasn't mistaken, that was Nelson’s room. He heard low voices and tapped on the door.

‘Come in, Stephen.’

‘You call him Stephen?’

‘We are not strangers, Aubrey, despite what people may think of us.’

‘Oh, be kind to the boy, Horatio.’ Stephen scolded as he closed and locked the door behind him. ‘It was a perfectly innocent question.’

‘Innocence is relative, dear.’

‘Is there any of that left for me?’ He waved at the bottle of wine sitting between the two officers, ‘Or must I call for another.’

‘There’s plenty to be had if you’d like a glass.’

‘Please.’ He shrugged out of his coat and hung it up, setting his hat up as well, ‘I’ve seen the Millers back to the Theseus. They’ll take care of quartering for me.’

‘Very good.’ Nelson handed over a glass of wine, and Stephen stole an opportunity to touch.

‘Ah. Audience, dear.’

‘Hush.’ He scolded, sneaking a glance over Nelson’s head at Aubrey, who watched with bright, slightly unfocused eyes.

‘I don’t mind.’ The lad said earnestly, a bit flushed between the wine and what he’d caught them doing.

‘Mum’s the word.’ Nelson murmured, loosening Stephen’s collar even as he took a sip of wine.

Stephen made a noise and caught Nelson’s hand. He wasn’t quite sure where the night would go, but he was willing to go wherever his companions led. He did know what he wanted out of tonight; it was a matter of action.

Pulling away from that initial contact, he sat down on the bed, carefully setting aside the glass so it wouldn’t get knocked over.

‘Such beautiful eyes.’ Nelson murmured, standing between his legs, ‘Have I told you that?’

‘Once, I think.’

‘His eyes are like quicksilver and opal.’ Aubrey whispered, almost afraid to speak. ‘I’ve never seen eyes like them.’

‘And likely never will again, lad.’ Stephen smiled, ‘Or meet a man like him, neither.’

‘Oh, no, sir.’

‘Hush, both of you.’ Nelson flushed pink at the compliments.

‘It is only a true compliment, sir.’ Stephen looked up, meeting those marvellous eyes again, ‘Allow us to say them.’

‘Oh, what shall I do with you two?’ Nelson chuckled and stroked the side of Stephen’s face, ‘Besides worry after you?’

‘I do the worrying.’ Stephen rolled his eyes, ‘And you will not stop me from it.’

‘Wouldn’t dream of trying, dear.’ Nelson leaned in close and finally kissed him.

The soft, wistful sound from Aubrey hardly put any distance between them, and Stephen leaned back to get his breath.

‘Ah, we can’t forget him, can we?’

‘We will not.’ Nelson promised, taking back the kiss for a bit longer.

Stephen finally pulled back, and looked for Aubrey. The lad sat nearby, watching them with a familiar, hungry, yearning light in his eyes.

‘Come here, lad.’ He held out his hand to the young man.

Aubrey looked at Nelson, who only nodded, and quickly got up. Stephen got to his feet as Aubrey joined them, not missing how he traded places with Nelson, who took Stephen’s glass of wine as he sat down nearby. That was alright; he could observe for a while, and Stephen suspected that would be quite to the admiral’s liking. This was an opportunity Stephen did not want to pass up, but he would proceed at a careful pace.

‘Are you afraid?’

‘No.’

‘Are you nervous?’

‘Yes.’ Mismatched eyes were bright with anticipation and wine, but he knew the lad was not lying to him. He wasn’t afraid, but this wasn’t something he had very much experience with. Interesting, but not surprising.

‘We are perfectly safe here, son.’ He said calmly, taking Aubrey’s hands in his.

He had used the past week to familiarise himself with Aubrey’s habits and appearance, knew what scars and blemishes he possessed and where most of them had come from. The calluses on his palms from handling his sword, on his fingers from the rigging of the ships, a scar from some engagement or other, the fine lines on his tanned face from long exposure to the sun and elements. He traced a fading scar on his jaw and smiled as the careful touch nearly brought the lad to his knees.

‘Oh, sir.’ Aubrey breathed, eyes wide.

‘I…am not a “sir”, to you, Lieutenant Aubrey.’ He scolded softly, ‘What do you want of me, son?’

‘I…don’t know. But, I think…I think maybe…a kiss?’ Bless him, he blushed like a young girl. Almost afraid of asking for that much, the dear thing.

‘Is that all you want of me?’ Stephen kept his touch gentle, his demeanour unthreatening.

‘Yes, sir. Please?’

‘Of course.’ Stephen smoothly put an arm around Aubrey, holding him steady while also pulling him close.

This would be rather different from kissing Nelson, Stephen and Aubrey were nearly the same height, but it was an experiment he looked forward to trying.

‘Let me lead this.’ He said when they were close enough, he could have seen his reflection in Aubrey’s eyes. ‘And don’t forget to breathe, darling.’

Aubrey had no words to object; all he could say was “please.” Stephen closed that small distance between them and felt the lad’s grip on him tighten.

‘Relax.’ He whispered before kissing Aubrey, who responded so beautifully. Stephen was careful with Aubrey, of course, but the boy’s enthusiasm made up for his lack of real experience.

‘Easy, boy.’ He said with a chuckle, pulling away from a kiss that Aubrey initiated, ‘We’ve got time.’

‘I didn’t know it could be like this!’

‘This, and so much better.’ Stephen promised, enjoying the way Aubrey’s eyes glowed.

A gentle touch on his shoulder only distracted him a little, and he turned to attend their third. Grey eyes fairly shimmered, the high colour in Nelson’s cheeks could not be missed.

‘Voyeur.’ Stephen whispered as Nelson pulled him away from Aubrey just a bit.

‘As if you mind terribly?’

‘Not if you’re the only one.’ He corrected. Nelson snickered and looked over his shoulder at Aubrey.

‘What do you think of Doctor Maturin, Lieutenant?’

‘He is marvellous, sir. And I would rather like to keep kissing him.’

‘He is rather good at it, isn’t he? But there’s so much more he’s good at, lad.’ Nelson’s expression grew wicked, ‘Would you like to see?’

‘Oh, sir, I don’t…’ Aubrey turned bright, embarrassed red, ‘I couldn’t possibly measure up!’

‘Nonsense, boy! You’re a healthy, strapping young man, you’ve nothing to worry about!’ Nelson shook his head, ‘And a fair sight better looking than many a woman I’ve set eyes on recently! Not discounting the dear doctor’s sister, of course.’

‘One of the finest, sir!’ Well, that didn’t surprise Stephen at all. His sister was very handsome, it was just her attitude that scared away anyone who might try to befriend her. Not that it had done a very good job keeping Nelson or Aubrey at a distance, of course.

‘Come along, lad, off with it.’ Nelson said, going back to his seat to continue watching. Stephen shared a look with Aubrey, and rolled his eyes.

‘Best not keep him waiting, then?’

‘No, sir.’ Aubrey shrugged and quietly got to work on his own buttons.

Coats and hats had long ago been set aside, so there wasn’t a terrible amount of work to be done. Stephen bent to his own labours, removing and laying aside one piece at a time, or two.

‘Oh, Stephen.’ Nelson’s soft exclamation brought his attention up and he looked over, ‘Aren’t we the lucky ones?’

‘Oh, sir.’ Stephen felt a rush of heat as he caught sight of Aubrey.

It was not, by any stretch, the first time he’d seen the lad in his altogether, but this was different. There was something different this time. And what had the boy been so worried about?! Nothing about him was inadequate! Except, perhaps, that nasty little voice that lingered at the back of his awareness and told him couldn’t measure up.

‘Oh, my dear, if you aren’t just magnificent.’ He kept a neutral distance, hard as it was, ‘That nasty voice in your head? Stifle it.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Aubrey flushed a shy, embarrassed pink, still and uncertain under the scrutiny. ‘I do try to, sir.’

‘Well, try a bit harder, lad. Whoever told you that you were inadequate was lying, you lack for nothing.’

Well, nothing besides a bit more self-confidence. They could work on that, though.

Stephen contented himself with touching as he circled Aubrey, not missing how the lad reacted to the stimulation. Calming caresses, venturing touches, it was all in one with this encounter. He reached for the velvet tie that held the lad’s hair in order and carefully tugged it loose, letting golden-blond strands fall loose, carefully running his fingers through the lion’s mane.

‘Young lion.’ He murmured, marvelling again at the way Aubrey was built. Tall, but with a bit of room to keep growing, not quite filling out his frame yet. But the lad was strong, no doubt of that.

Strong-willed, with a strong mind and a strong heart. There was also a gentleness to him that nearly every man Stephen had ever met lacked. His vices were few, his virtues were great, and Stephen would be damned to an eternity in the Underworlds if the lad didn’t have a long and illustrious career ahead of him.

As he came around front of Aubrey, the lad reached out to touch him, blunt, tough fingers skimming along his skin. He did not hide the little shivers, there was no reason to.

‘Oh, Doctor.’ Aubrey whispered once they were face-to-face again.

‘Yes, my lion?’ He took the boy’s hand in his, holding it against his chest.

Aubrey’s mismatched eyes darted to Stephen’s waistband, for while he was naked, Stephen was only halfway there. But that did nothing to hide Stephen’s state of arousal.

‘Oh, may I, sir? Please?’

‘Yes, darling.’ He smiled, lifting Aubrey’s hand to kiss the scarred knuckles. ‘Of course you may.’

Aubrey carefully dropped to his knees, getting to work on the fastenings of Stephen’s breeches. Stephen let the lad work at his own pace, content to play with the honey locks under his fingers. It was probably his favourite of Aubrey’s features, that sun-coloured hair. It was neither very long nor very short and had a fascinating texture. Thick and soft, with just a bit of roughness.

He knew the instant Aubrey got his breeches undone, and sucked in a sharp breath as cool air touched bare skin. It was only a matter of a moment to kick aside that last piece of clothing, and Aubrey settled on his knees, eyes going up Stephen’s lanky frame to find his eyes.

‘Oh, you lovely lad.’ He murmured, fingers gentle against the lad’s jaw, skipping over a bit of stubble.

‘Yours, sir?’

‘For tonight.’ He touched his thumb to Aubrey’s forehead, ‘My dear lion.’

‘Why do you call me that?’

‘Because despite your Familiar, you have the look of a young lion.’ He tilted Aubrey’s head back with gentle fingers, ‘You are my lion, understand?’

‘I do, sir. I do.’ Mismatched eyes dropped to their desired target, and he rested his hand gently against the back of Aubrey’s neck while the other lay alongside his jaw.

‘Do you know what to do, Jack?’

‘Yes, sir, I do.’ He got a firm, if shaky, nod and chuckled.

‘Have at it, then. Take it slow, I’m here to guide you.’ He said calmly, knowing the lad was nervous. A pink tongue darted out to wet chapped lips, and he felt the briefest touch against his own hot flesh. He stifled a louder noise than the soft exhale, but not for long. Getting that reaction had inspired Aubrey to try again, deliberately this time.

‘Ohh.’ He felt his pulse skip, and leaned his head back. ‘A stór.’

Rough hands rested against his thighs, holding him stable while Aubrey explored a bit of what he was allowed to do, and what he could push Stephen to do. He wished for something to hold onto, to lean against, and got his wish when he felt a familiar presence at his back. Nelson. Caught between the two officers, he stifled a whine that tried to claw it’s way free.

For a while, he managed, but when he felt that hot rush, he tried to warn Aubrey.

‘S-stop!’ He gasped, ‘Jack!’

‘I want this, I can take it. Let me take it.’ Aubrey looked up at him, ‘Please, Doctor.’

‘Crios.’ He muttered. Twice in the same day? He may not be able to stand tomorrow.

‘Let go, my dear.’ Nelson whispered, ‘We’ve got you. I promise.’

Stephen dropped his chin against his chest and groaned as a hard-won second climax was wrung out of him by the beautiful, charming young lieutenant on his knees.

‘Twice!’ He gasped, ‘Twice!’

He found his way to the bed and collapsed, chest heaving. Aubrey was there in a heartbeat, and he studied the sturdy young man.

‘I may not be able to keep up with you, young man.’

‘Ah, you’re not that old, sir!’ Aubrey promised with a wink, settling alongside Stephen.

He chuckled and covered his eyes with one hand as he caught his breath.

‘And yes, my dear, you wore a bit of an air at the court-martial.’ Nelson promised, ‘Not than anyone else would have known what you were up to before.’

‘That was entirely your fault, sir.’ He shot back, mustering the best glare he could. Hard to do when he couldn’t think straight, and all Nelson did was laugh at him.

‘Oh, Stephen! Stephen, that only works when you’re sober, my dear!’

‘Are you really going to let him speak to you like that?’ Aubrey asked.

‘Frankly, my dear, he can speak to me however he likes. If I were more stable, I’d give him a piece of my mind for the cheek.’ He narrowed his eyes, ‘What of you, then?’

‘What about me?’ He got a casual, careless shrug.

Stephen raised an eyebrow and carefully reached for the younger man’s stiff need, soft with neglect. As he had known he would, Aubrey’s eyes rolled, and he dropped his head with a groan.

‘Ah hah.’ He huffed, stroking the soft, ample length that stiffened and swelled back to full attention against his palm. Aubrey buried his head against Stephen’s shoulder, whining as instinct seized him, and he began thrusting into his hand.

‘That’s it, lad, I’ve got you.’ He murmured, stroking and fondling, stifling Aubrey’s outcry with his free hand. The familiar warm slick spread over his fingers and Aubrey’s stomach, and he carefully released his partner.

‘Crios!’ The younger man gasped, completely dazed.

Stephen took the rag Nelson gave him and carefully cleaned up. He collected his breeches and washed the cloth out, laying it to dry by the window.

Beyond the window, it was dark, and the night air was crisp and lively. In the distance, he could see the mast lights in the harbour.

‘Another storm is brewing.’ He saw the flashes of light in deeper darkness against the distant horizons, ‘Far out at sea.’ A roll of thunder reached them, and he tilted his head.

‘That’s thunder, for certain.’ Nelson mused, passing him a glass of wine.

‘I suppose we would know the difference between thunder and cannon fire, wouldn’t we?’

‘By all rights, we absolutely should.’ Nelson smiled, touching his glass to Stephen’s.

They stood together by the window, watching the distant storm. It was too dark to tell where it would go, but there was no doubt there would be fog on the water in the morning.

After a while, he heard a shuffling as Aubrey got up, collected his clothes, and got dressed again. When the lad came to join them, he handed over his glass.

‘How’s your head?’

‘Clearer than ever.’ He got a brilliant smile, ‘You’re a man of secrets, Doctor Maturin. I wouldn’t have taken you for knowing that kind of thing.’

‘Some of my secrets are benign, some are not.’ He leaned in and kissed the lad on the cheek, ‘I have no doubt you’ll sleep well tonight, son. And you deserve it.’

‘I wish I could thank you for saving my life, but I’m not certain I know how to.’

‘By living your life, Lieutenant.’ He said firmly, ‘I’ll be keeping an eye on you, of course, but all I ask in return is for you to live your life and follow your destiny. Wherever it may lead.’

‘I still have one to follow.’ Aubrey looked at him, and he felt a tiny frisson of some energy pass between them. ‘Because of you, I still have one to follow. I’ll try to make you proud.’

‘Good night, Aubrey.’ Nelson said quietly as Aubrey took his leave, ‘Sleep well.’

‘Good night, sir.’ Aubrey offered a proper salute and left quietly.

Stephen sighed and turned from the window.

‘It’s late, and the day has been very long.’ He finished his wine, setting the empty glass on the table, ‘Thank you for everything, Horatio.’

‘Of course. Good night, Stephen.’ Nelson smiled as he capped the bottle of wine, empty now, and set it on the tray with the empty glasses. ‘Thank you.’

‘My sincere pleasure.’ He took a brief kiss and left Nelson’s room, crossing the dark hallway to his own room.

A light was on in Aubrey’s room, but it went out as he watched. Content that things were alright with the world, Stephen locked his door, opened his window to bring the night air, and went to bed. Tomorrow would begin a new chapter of his life, and there was no telling where the future would take him. Wherever Nelson went, of course, but that could be anywhere.

Chapter Text

Wherever Nelson went turned out to be London. A month and a half after the loss of the Ouragan, Stephen found himself in Buckingham Palace with a few familiar faces and quite a few strangers. He was here for one reason: Nelson was being knighted for his part in the actions taken during the Battle of Cape St. Vincent. It was quite the affair, and Stephen admired the pomp and circumstance that elevated his friend to a new level of regard. If only it wouldn’t get to his head so easily.

As Nelson was announced a Knight Companion of the Order of the Bath, Stephen leaned across to Jack Aubrey, who stood next to him, ‘What are you willing to bet this goes straight to his head?’

‘Shush.’ Aubrey scolded, grinning.

Stephen simply shrugged. This sort of thing was exactly what stroked Nelson’s adequate ego, and they were the unlucky bastards who had to put up with the subsequent days of preening.

‘He’ll be damn impossible to be around now, you know.’

‘Oh, I do.’ Aubrey rolled his eyes.

Someone behind them made a rude “shh-shh” sound, but they paid it no mind. It was easier and far more fun to focus on Nelson, who seemed to stand just a bit taller with pride.

That night, they dined together and toasted Nelson’s new honours. It was a quiet, intimate evening, which was fine with them. The next morning, they returned to the Theseus and set off for the Mediterranean with part of Lord St. Vincent’s fleet.

^

Arriving off the coast of Cadiz on the 18^th, they cruised along the coast with the rest of the fleet. Plans were developed and discarded, and Stephen had a chance to watch just how his particular friend’s mind focused on warfare. He had been at sea for nearly two months and had become accustomed to the change in workload and lifestyle. Smaller actions had been partaken of between May and July, so he’d gotten some experience in naval warfare. Not quite to his tastes, but he was a physician and a healer, and the men liked him.

He knew trouble was brewing, but he didn’t know how bad it would be until they launched an amphibious landing assault on Santa Cruz de Tenerife on July 22^nd. The first attempt on the 22^nd was quickly beaten back, the Spanish were better prepared and entrenched, and a second just as swiftly launched and repelled.

Stephen had his hands full with the wounded, but he did what he had the training for. The only time he stepped away for more than a few moments was when Nelson summoned him to a war council late on the 24^th.

‘Go on.’ Eshelby whispered, nudging him aside, ‘There’s more than enough spare hands down here, and I know better than to question that look.’

‘Aye.’ He shook hands with his partner and abandoned the crowded sickbay.

Unfortunately for anyone who saw him, he was covered in far too much blood. None of it was his own, but there was more of it than should be. Stephen took the time to wipe off his hands and untie the collar-strings of the butcher’s apron, not that it helped much.

Arriving at the great cabin, he was admitted by a wide-eyed Marine.

‘None of this is my own, Richardson.’ He said calmly as he stepped past the lad.

‘Aye, sir!’ Matthew Richardson breathed, pulling the door shut behind him once he was inside.

‘Maturin.’ Nelson didn’t even look up at him. ‘How’s it below?’

‘Crowded, and the count is rising. We’re doing everything we can, sir.’

‘Of course you are, and more I didn’t demand.’

‘No, sir.’ He tugged on his sleeve, ‘How may I serve, Admiral?’

‘Come here, Doctor.’ Nelson beckoned with one hand, and he went around the crowded table. His brother-in-law made a space for him, pushing Jack Aubrey over a few steps to make it, and he leaned over the map spread on the table.

‘What are we up against?’

‘A night-time assault. It’s the best and last chance we have.’

‘They’ve beaten us back twice. Why risk a third advance?’ He tilted his head, touching markers on the map. ‘If we get trapped at any of these points, we’ll be in worse condition than we are currently.’

‘We must advance.’ Nelson glanced at him quickly, ‘And this time, you’re coming with us.’

‘Me, sir?’ Stephen blinked, ‘I’m afraid I’d be rather useless on the field, sir. My post is best-served shipboard, where I can reach more wounded.’

‘There are going to be plenty of wounded ashore as well, and I would rather have someone more knowledgeable than not.’

‘Very well, Admiral.’ He sighed, knowing when to pick his fights. He was only here in good faith; his place was not here, and nearly every man at the table knew that. Nelson knew that, Miller knew that, Aubrey, who stood across the table from him, knew that.

‘Prepare yourself, Doctor.’

‘Aye, sir.’ He looked at the map again, memorised the location of each marker, and said a prayer for every man going out on this rash third attempt.

Dismissed from the cabin, he returned to sickbay and quietly set aside his tools. He would need them later. While he waited, he tended to the growing roster of wounded and dying.

It was another hour or two before he was called away again.

‘Maturin.’ Eshelby called his name across the bay, and he turned to the ladder behind him. There was Aubrey.

‘Lieutenant Aubrey.’ He straightened, quickly stepping back from the table. ‘Ashton, take my place.’     

‘Sir.’ One of Eshelby’s assistants stepped up to take his place, and he motioned for Aubrey to wait a moment. Collecting his tools, he shook hands with Eshelby.

‘Come back alive, will you? Good assistants are hard to find around here.’

‘I’ll try.’ He sighed, ‘Good luck, Thomas.’

‘Likewise, Stephen. See you.’ Eshelby watched him cross the deck to Aubrey, returning to his plentiful work.

The trouble started nearly as soon as they were in the water, with boats landing the wrong places or not at all, the limited visibility greatly diminished by smoke and plumes of water from the Spanish batteries firing grapeshot and cannonballs.

The instant their boat neared shore, Stephen Shifted. A smaller target was far more difficult to hit, and see, and in his Familiar, he would be a great deal less visible. Aubrey quickly followed suit, but didn’t take his Familiar. Chimeras could take the shape of any animal they wished, and Stephen was a bit flattered when Aubrey decided to copy his Familiar. Nelson, however, refused to Shift. He didn’t see the point, he said. Stephen and Aubrey absolutely saw the benefits of Shifting, but couldn’t seem to convince Nelson of it. Until they got to shore and Stephen instantly saw a danger. Lunging from the bottom of the boat, he leapt onto Nelson’s shoulder, digging his claws into exposed flesh. Startling a Chimera was the best way to initiate a Shift, and it worked.

With a startled, strangled yell, Nelson toppled. Stephen landed on top of him, pinning the furious, frustrated Border Terrier to the sand.

‘Maturin! How dare you!’ Nelson bellowed, throwing him with a roll of muscular shoulders.

Stephen took off at a sprint, weaving between the legs of the rest of their straggled landing force, forcing Nelson to chase him. Circling back, he kept an eye over his shoulder.

A cannon round hit the beach not a yard ahead of them, and he skidded. Nelson slammed into him from the side, and they tumbled into a crater from an earlier shot. But as quickly as they tangled, they were separated. Someone had seen them and intervened.

‘Alright, that’s enough! Both of you, grown adults acting like wild animals!’ That was Miller, ‘Hold ‘em tightly, Lieutenant!’

‘Aye, sir!’ They’d been caught by Josiah Nisbet, Nelson’s stepson. With one hand, he held Stephen by his ruff, and with the other held Nelson by his. In this undignified fashion, they were carried down to the shallows, dumped unceremoniously into the boat and held apart until they got back to the Theseus.

It was only once they were back in the great-cabin, tossed inside and locked in, that it occurred to Nelson that either of them might be in serious trouble. Blocking the way out was Miller, next to him was Aubrey, still in Shift. To his left stood Nisbet. But Aubrey had shed his small form for something much larger and more intimidating: a lion.

‘Alright, you two. What happened out there?’ Miller looked from one to the other, ‘We have much bigger troubles than you two cat-fighting like indignant children.’

‘He tricked me!’ Nelson exploded, fully irate. Stephen eyed up his hot-headed friend and snorted.

‘I saved your life!’ He said coldly, ‘You’re welcome, by the way.’

‘I was in no such danger! You could have gotten us both killed!’

‘The only one in any danger of being killed was you.’

‘Knock it off!’ Miller shouted, startling both of them, ‘Christ save my sanity.’

‘May I speak, Captain Miller?’ Aubrey asked quietly.

‘Yes, Lieutenant.’ Miller looked at Aubrey, who got up from his place by Miller and came to sit between Nelson and Stephen, forcing them to make space.

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘What did you observe, Lieutenant Aubrey?’

‘Sir. As you’re aware, Doctor Maturin and myself elected to Shift before we reached the beaches.’

‘Aye, which might be what spared your lives.’ Miller levelled a withering glare on Nelson that had cowed many lesser men. ‘And his, the ungrateful bastard.’

‘I beg your pardon!’

‘It is not your turn to speak, Admiral. You will wait.’ Miller snarled. Stephen’s ears laid flat at the tone Miller took. He’d never seen his brother-in-law this angry.

‘Continue, Lieutenant.’

‘Sir. Well, Captain, as you know, Admiral Nelson did not make that choice for himself. Doctor Maturin was forced to make it for him and initiated a Trauma Shift.’ Aubrey glanced at Stephen, ‘This, as you are well aware, led to the fierce pursuit between them that we were witness to on the beaches. Our men and our enemies alike were baffled.’

‘And it only stopped because they fell into a crater, and Lieutenant Nisbet separated them.’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘Given the sheer number of wounded and dead Maturin and Eshelby have been managing since the 22nd, your lives are not as worthless or worth more dead as you might think!’ Miller looked at all three of them, ‘I’ve strong words for Jervis about this!’

‘Our men that landed are besieged, and we’re helpless to assist them.’ Nelson laid down, head between his forepaws. ‘We underestimated our enemy.’

‘To our ruin! You three are going to stay right here until this whole thing is over, do you understand?’ Miller paced in front of the door, talking mostly to himself now.

Stephen sighed, privately felt very sorry for poor Leah. She would have to handle the captain’s foul mood. But, she was capable of it, she could steady Miller properly.

After Miller let them out of the cabin, it was a tense wait for word from shore. Around one in the morning, Nelson decided to send out reinforcements to help Thomas Troubridge, captain of the Culloden. Troubridge had reached the central square of the city and gotten trapped. Fifteen boats were sent out, and twelve returned after being turned back. It wasn’t until the following morning, on the 25th, that Captain Troubridge and Captain Hood managed to strike a truce with the Spanish commanders, and the stranded British soldiers were allowed to withdraw.

^

Defeat stung bitterly, but they returned to England in August to a hero’s welcome.

‘If they don’t hold us accountable, then who do they blame for it?’ Stephen wondered once while visiting with Nelson in London.

He had settled in London after returning from the Canaries, and Nelson had settled there as well to await any further orders from the Admiralty.

‘Jervis is a popular scapegoat, or Secretary Windham.’ Nelson took a sip of his wine, ‘Some even blame the Prime Minister.’

‘Pitt? That’s brazen of them.’ He raised an eyebrow at the people being held accountable for the disaster at the Canary Islands. ‘Then again, you are a public favourite, I suppose they might look elsewhere for someone to find fault with.’

‘Though you may not.’ That got him a steady look. Stephen sighed and set his cup down.

‘Crios.’ He muttered, ‘No, I may not. Someone must hold you accountable to yourself, Horatio, and I seem to be one of the only people brave enough to do so.’

‘They may not appreciate your subtler efforts, Stephen, but I guarantee my superiors are aware of them.’

‘Jervis knows exactly what power I hold over you.’ He shrugged, ‘Not that either of us seem to mind. Someone has to knock sense into your thick skull when needed.’

‘I wonder how many of our associates find it odd how much influence you hold over me.’

‘I couldn’t begin to tell you, but those nearest know better than to speak up.’ He leaned across the table, ‘You still haven’t quite forgiven me for what happened in July, have you?’

‘You did what was right to you in the heat of the moment. I cannot fault a man for following his instincts, even and especially if I can’t appreciate his different interpretations of a moment.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘While I saw no immediate danger to myself, in spite of innumerable such dangers blatantly obvious, you were intimately aware of that threat.’ Nelson looked up, studying him with a hooded, guarded gaze, ‘You saw what I did not, through deliberate ignorance or true ignorance, and reacted.’

‘You were deliberately ignorant on account of reasonable fury. On two other occasions, your planning had failed. That is grounds for acceptable ignorance.’ Stephen smiled, brushing his fingers against the back of Nelson’s hand, ‘You were determined against every odd stacked against us. I knew there was no changing your mind when you insisted I join the last assault when I had absolutely no business to be there. If any of us did.’

‘You may not have had any business on the frontline, my dear, but without you there, I might be dead or seriously wounded.’

‘And you get moody enough without injury. I’m not risking your worst moods injury added to insult.’

‘You’ll keep your distance, but you never abandon me, do you?’

‘No, sir. I can’t, and I refuse to.’ He studied his friend’s quicksilver eyes, ‘And good luck to you trying to get rid of me. I’m nearly as stubborn as you and with a far quicker temper than yours.’

‘So, I’ve noticed.’ Nelson chuckled. ‘Lucky for me, I haven’t seen the full fury of your Irish temper, Doctor.’

‘You haven’t upset me enough.’ Stephen wrinkled his nose. ‘But my patience is not infinite.’

‘Of course it’s not.’ Nelson picked up the bottle sitting on the table between them and refilled their glasses. ‘I’ve been thinking on something, and I would appreciate an outsider’s opinion on it.’

‘Regarding what matters? And I hardly think I count as an outsider anymore.’

‘How would you think of a letter to Gutiérrez?’

‘For what?’

‘To thank him. The compassion he showed to us was…unconventional.’

‘Well, I suppose you might reach out to express your gratitude, of course. After all, it was very kind of him to give us back our trapped men and arms, there were rather many of them.’ Stephen looked up at the grey sky for a moment, ‘And the pair of schooners he gave us to assist us back to the Peninsula.’

‘I’ve commended Hood and Troubridge for their efforts, though I doubt much if anything will come of it.’ Nelson’s expression hardened, ‘Damn Jervis!’

‘Write your letter, darling, you’ll be in better spirits for it.’

‘I think I shall. And perhaps I’ll send him a gift, as well.’

‘Then do that!’ Stephen wondered what sort of gift Lieutenant General Antonio Gutiérrez de Otero y Santayana, commander of the Spanish forces stationed in Tenerife, might receive from Nelson. Something suitable, he supposed.

It was quiet for a while, but conversation wasn’t necessary to fill every silence. Stephen was only disturbed when he heard a bell chiming in the distance. Getting to his feet, he emptied his glass and set it down as he collected his hat and coat.

‘Well, my dear, I must go.’ He checked his watch, ‘Shall I see you this evening?’

‘I’m afraid I have obligations to my captains. I will give your brother-in-law your regards?’

‘Ah, please do!’ He chuckled, ‘What of Aubrey, then?’

‘Straining at the lead. He’d be thrilled to have you.’ Nelson got to his feet, wearing a sly look, ‘You know his quarters, aye?’

‘Aye, that I do.’ Stephen was not terribly disappointed that Nelson was too busy for him. He could just as easily hunt down Jack Aubrey, who usually kept company with Josiah Nisbet and a handful of the younger officers Stephen had acquainted himself with over the last few months.

‘If you see that young scoundrel stepson of mine, do keep him out of whatever greater trouble he tries to get himself into?’

‘What on Earth makes you think that boy would listen to me?’ Stephen rolled his eyes, ‘I will do my best, should I see him.’

‘His mother would be grateful, of course.’

‘She’s never met me, you realize that?’

‘Give it time, my dear. You won’t get through this life without meeting Frances Nisbet, and Gods be with you when you do.’ Nelson looked put-upon, but Stephen knew their relationship was better than people imagined it. Married on paper, but not living together, still friendly with each other and kept in touch. It could be so much worse, there could have been a nasty, messy divorce process and they could be hostile and distant.

Parting ways with Nelson, Stephen returned to his small residence on Audley Street and wrote some letters. He wasn’t left alone for long, as the bell sounded. He heard the housekeeper answer and admit the caller and listened. Who could have come looking for him?

He found out soon enough when the housekeeper opened the door to the study.

‘What is it, Martha?’ He looked up briefly.

‘Visitor for you, Doctor.’

‘See them in.’

‘Of course, sir.’ The housekeeper bobbed a curtsy and stood aside, ‘He’ll see you, sir.’

‘Thank you.’ Stephen recognized the voice right away and got quickly to his feet.

‘Jack.’

‘Good afternoon, Doctor Maturin.’ Jack Aubrey smiled crookedly as he stepped through the door. ‘I seem to have caught you off guard, sir.’

‘Perhaps, Lieutenant!’ He wondered how Aubrey had found him, how long he had been trying to find him. ‘Martha, if you wouldn’t mind bringing up some sherry, please?’

‘Of course, sir.’ She was only gone a few minutes, returning shortly with a tray holding two glasses and a decanter.

‘You may go, Martha.’ Stephen dismissed the housekeeper. The instant the door was shut, and they were alone, Aubrey was across the study. Not before he locked the door as a precaution, however.

‘What business brings you to my door, Lieutenant?’ He inquired, watching Aubrey set about the business of pouring the sherry.

‘Must I have a reason?’

‘Of course not! You know you are always welcome here.’ He smiled, taking the glass Aubrey passed him. ‘I suppose my neighbours would talk, though, if they had seen you.’

‘Why would they do that, sir?’

‘You came to me with business on behalf of the Royal Navy, you’ve come out in uniform.’ He gestured at the now-familiar blue coat, ‘I rather prefer that for you.’

‘You would.’ Aubrey’s eyes glowed, ‘No one seemed to notice, though I suspect plenty of them did. You must take enough callers that I didn’t raise their suspicions.’

‘I occasionally have patients come, but my days have been much quieter since leaving Portsmouth. Visits from the Navy are rare enough.’

‘Ah, you miss it, then!’ A knowing chuckle, ‘I knew you would. All we had to do was give you a taste of it.’

‘I still prefer having stable ground beneath my feet,’ Stephen amended, ‘but yes.’

‘Good.’ Aubrey hung his coat and hat and settled in one of the armchairs, looking like he belonged there. Stephen hid a broader smile in his glass and turned to the window.

‘What business brought you to me? Beyond curiosity, of course.’

‘Navy business, I’m afraid.’

‘A ship’s company is without a surgeon.’ He didn’t have to pose the question, he knew it. ‘Which of them is it, then?’

‘Two, in fact. The Theseus and the Surprise are both without a surgeon.’

‘How on earth did Miller and Ferguson lose their surgeons?’ He raised an eyebrow to hear that Read and Eshelby had left their stations.

‘You would have to ask them, sir, I couldn’t say.’

‘I wonder…’ He narrowed his eyes, ‘Read mentioned his family while we were crossing the channel, he most likely took leave to be with his wife.’

‘I suppose that would be a sensible thing to do. Wasn’t she pregnant?’

‘Very. With their third, I believe.’ He shrugged, ‘So, Rob’s lost his surgeon to familial duties.’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘And which of the captains are you here on behalf?’

‘Ferguson. Miller said not to worry.’

‘Bless my brother-in-law.’ Stephen chuckled, ‘Well, that must mean that you belong to Ferguson now.’

‘Yes, sir. I got my orders yesterday.’

‘Good for you, lad.’ Stephen smiled, ‘Ferguson and I are friends, I’ll be happy to sail with him.’

‘He was hoping you would say that, sir.’

‘Where?’

‘Where else?’

‘I suppose if he sent you to my door, the Surprise is out of dry-docks.’

‘Aye, sir, she is!’ And Aubrey looked thrilled to say it. ‘Finest ship, sir, ain’t she?’

‘Fine ship indeed. Fast, lively, with an excellent captain.’ He chuckled, ‘Nelson has business this evening with his captains; I’ll be a fool if Ferguson ain’t one of ‘em. Shall we find supper for ourselves and await our orders?’

‘Oh, truly, sir?’ Aubrey’s face just lit up with joy, ‘Truly?’

‘Of course! Come along, lad.’ He collected coats and hats and held the door for Aubrey.

The streets were lively, and they joined the crowds. Finding a nearby road-house with the room to take them was not too difficult, and it wasn’t terribly long before they were settled with a fine spread between them. There was beer, plenty of it, three kinds of cheese, four kinds of meats, and everything else in between.

Stephen was there with Aubrey for hours, and never considered a minute of it wasted. Aubrey, he found, had a delightfully dry sense of humour, and a fondness for music. Stephen found himself amazed by the lad’s knowledge of the masters, his fondness for the violin, and inquired to his training.

‘Have you taken any training on it, then?’

‘Years of it. My father thought it was wasteful, but my mother pushed. I can play a decent minuet, but I prefer to play with company.’

‘Do you own any instruments?’

‘I had one for years, but I lost it a few months ago.’ And he looked so sad, ‘I haven’t had a chance to replace it.’

‘Oh, you lost it with the Ouragan, didn’t you?’

‘Aye.’

‘I’m sorry, lad. So many things were lost that night, weren’t they?’ Stephen felt a pang of grief again, but not just for the lives lost this time.

‘People can’t be replaced like objects can be.’

‘No, and don’t try to replace them.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘Have you heard from Mister Andrews or Captain Blakeney recently?’

‘Both, in fact. Captain’s still recovering, of course, but Mister Andrews found his way back to sea.’

‘Good for him! He’s a decent fellow, and I’m glad to hear he’s gone back to what he does well.’ Stephen refilled their glasses, ‘I’ve seen Captain Blakeney, of course. He’s always glad to see me and swears he’ll steal me from whatever captain I’m with if he has to.’

‘He would, too! He’ll ask if it’s Miller or Ferguson but not anyone else!’

‘You learned that yourself, didn’t you?’

‘Aye, and I didn’t mind the lesson, neither!’

‘Good lad.’ Stephen looked around the crowded dining room, ‘How long do you suppose we’ll be waiting to hear from Ferguson?’

‘Tonight. Perhaps sooner.’ Aubrey shrugged, but they both knew that as soon as Nelson was done with them, Ferguson would be reaching out.

When their plates and glasses were empty, Stephen parted ways with Aubrey long enough to collect what he needed for this next assignment. He also looked up the current berthing for the Surprise. She sat in Portsmouth Harbour, currently, awaiting captain and crew for her next venture to the Mediterranean. A venture Stephen would be part of, apparently.

Chapter Text

Aubrey came back not long after he returned home, but he didn’t come alone. Not that Stephen had realistically expected him to, but the company he kept was a little unusual. Stephen recognised Josiah Nisbet, of course, but not the child who lingered behind the pair.

‘Who’s your shadow, Lieutenant?’ Stephen enquired as he closed the door behind them.

‘Doctor Maturin, this youngster is Thomas Pullings. He’ll be joining us in the Surprise as one of her boys.’

‘Ah, capital thing!’ Stephen chuckled and studied young Pullings; the lad couldn’t have been older than nine or ten. ‘How old are you, Mister Pullings?’

‘I’m ten, sir.’

‘Very good, then. If you aren’t used to hard labour, you will be in good time.’

‘My parents are farmers, sir, I can do hard work.’ Pullings said firmly, almost defiantly.

‘Excellent. I’ll be happy to keep an eye on you, then.’ Stephen knew this was one more on his growing list of people to watch. He seemed to be building a bit of a family for himself if he was to be completely honest.

‘Are you a surgeon, sir?’ Pullings inquired as he explored the study, carefully keeping his hands to himself.

‘Aye, that I am, my lad.’ Stephen looked up from putting something in his bag, ‘I’m a physician and a surgeon.’

‘Are you a good one?’

‘I’d like to think so.’ It was a decent question, and children were, by their very natures, curious creatures.

Closing up his bag once he was sure everything he needed was in it, he turned, ‘Mister Pullings, would you like to do something for me?’

‘May I, sir?’

‘Can you carry this for me?’

‘Yes, sir! I’d be happy to!’ The lad’s subtly mismatched eyes lit up, and he rushed over to take it. ‘Oh, are you coming with us, sir?’

‘I am, my lad, I am. How else am I supposed to make sure you stay out of trouble, eh?’

‘I guess you may not do it very well from here, sir.’ Pullings made a face, and Stephen chuckled, reaching over to ruffle the lad’s hair.

‘It’s not just you I’ll be looking after, lad. It’s those two, as well.’ He pointed at Aubrey and Nisbet, who traded a look.

‘Can’t look after themselves, sir?’

‘I’m afraid not, my lad.’ He shrugged, ‘Not Lieutenant Aubrey, at any rate. He’s far too good at getting into trouble and mischief.’

‘It was only that once, you know.’ Aubrey muttered, cheeks turning a bit pink.

‘What I’ve learned of you, son, it won’t only be that once.’ Stephen gathered the rest of his belongings, ‘If there’s one thing I’ve learned these past months, it’s how to manage the mischief and troubles of the Royal Navy’s officers and men.’

‘Well, sir, you are rather good at that.’ Nisbet took one side of the sea-chest, ‘Did my stepfather ask you to look after us?’

‘It may have come up in conversation.’

‘Nosy old bastard. We’re not children!’ Aubrey rolled his eyes as he picked up the other side.

‘I’m afraid you rather are, son.’ Stephen smiled, passing Aubrey with a pat on the cheek. ‘Come along, boys.’

‘Coming, sir.’ Pullings was right on his heels, followed by Aubrey and Nisbet. Out on the street stood a wagon and a carriage.

‘Off again, are you, Doctor Maturin?’ His landlord came out as the lieutenants loaded his chest into the wagon and took the two bags he’d packed, adding them as well.

‘Yes, Mister Lawrence. And I’m not sure when I’ll be back.’ He turned to the man, a kind fellow in his sixties with dark hair gone white and grey, and his face weathered from half a lifetime at sea with the Royal Navy.

‘Ah, no worries, sir. I know a bit of what you’re going into, just come back.’

‘I’ll do my best, Mister Lawrence.’ Stephen promised, ‘I’ll write, as well.’

‘You do that, sir. Do that. And bless you all.’ Richard Lawrence looked past Stephen to the three behind him, ‘Especially that youngster.’

‘I have every intention of looking after Mister Pullings especially.’ He didn’t miss the way the boy’s cheeks pinkened with embarrassment, ‘Though I suspect he might be capable of looking after himself well enough.’

‘Good, sturdy lad like him? He’ll be alright.’ Lawrence chuckled, ‘Good luck, boys.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Aubrey patted Pullings on the shoulder, ‘Come along, Tom. In you go.’

‘Goodbye, Mister Lawrence.’ Stephen shook hands with his landlord and joined the boys in the carriage.

The trip down to Portsmouth from London was quiet, Pullings fell asleep not even halfway there. Stephen looked over when a weight landed against his left side and found the lad had fallen over.

‘Poor boy.’ He shifted enough to lay Pullings down, covering the boy with his coat.

‘Are you very fond of children, Doctor?’ Nisbet asked quietly.

‘That I am. They always seem drawn to me.’

‘You have none of your own, though.’ Aubrey said.

‘I do not, but it has never been a desire of mine.’ He shrugged.

‘No wife?’

‘No. I have never sought a traditional family.’

‘Not after the trouble your sister had.’ Aubrey narrowed his eyes.

Stephen shook his head. Especially not after the troubles Leah and Miller had experienced.

The rest of the journey was quiet, Stephen slept some, and when they reached Portsmouth, he joined the boys on the docks.

‘Where does she lay?’ He looked out across the darkness, picking out mast-lights of different ships. The sky had barely turned grey, but sunrise was not far away.

‘Behind the Katniss and the Bellerophon.’ Aubrey said quietly. ‘We can wait for daylight before we go aboard.’

‘That would be the wisest course of action, I think.’ Stephen whispered, keeping one arm around young Pullings, who still hadn’t quite rejoined the waking world.

But the “wisest course of action” never had to be undertaken, as the creak and splash of oars in the water at the end of the dock slip came as he caught sight of a launch’s stern-lantern.

‘Ahoy, there!’ A quiet voice called from the darkness, ‘Are you for the Surprise?’

‘Aye, sir?’ Stephen adjusted his grip on Pullings, ‘Who comes out?’

‘Nichols, sir. Bosun’s Mate. We were told to wait for the lieutenants, sir?’

‘Aubrey and Nisbet? I have them, Mister Nichols.’ Stephen passed Pullings to Aubrey and stepped forward to give Mister Nichols a hand onto the dock, ‘I’m sorry you had to come out here so early.’

‘No trouble of ours, sir.’ He couldn’t tell in the pre-dawn darkness and the glow of the lantern exactly how old Nichols was, but he’d know soon enough. ‘We’ll take you all out now, if you’d like.’

‘Thank you, Mister Nichols.’ He signalled to the other three and stepped carefully into the waiting launch. He took a sleepy Pullings from Nichols, who carefully handed the lad into the launch, and looked over his shoulder at the dark, crowded harbour beyond. Someone had known they were coming, and when they would be arriving.

‘God bless you, Rob.’ He murmured, knowing his friend had made sure they would be taken care of and not made to wait.

It was a quiet trip across the dark water, and he shook Pullings awake enough to get him up the ladder.

‘Come along, lad. Nearly there.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Pullings climbed slowly, and Stephen followed him. At the top of the ladder, he took the offered hands.

‘Welcome aboard, Doctor Maturin.’

‘Thank you, Mister Philips.’ He offered the Surprise’s Second Lieutenant a smile, ‘Is the captain aboard?’

‘Yes, sir. He’ll see you at morning muster.’

‘Of course. I apologise for the early hour.’

‘No need to, sir, we know our business.’ Edwin Philips shrugged, this was by no means the first time he’d headed up an early-morning boarding like this.

Once his party was aboard, he sent the boys to find their berths and waited for the launch with their chests and dunnage before retreating below decks to get a few more hours of sleep. A soft tap on the door of his quarters was young Pullings.

‘Oh, Tom. What’s the matter, lad?’ He studied the sleep-ruffled youngster carefully, ‘You can barely stand, son.’

‘Can’t sleep, sir.’ The boy shuffled into his small cabin, holding something to his chest. It was a bundle of bedding, Stephen realised.

‘I was hoping I might stay with you until muster.’

‘Oh, of course.’ He smiled and closed the door again, after making sure it was still quiet outside, ‘There isn’t much spare room, but there’s enough for you.’

Next door, he heard one of the lieutenants moving about. A closer rustling was Pullings, laying out his bedding on the deck below Stephen’s hammock.

He watched the lad closely, saw signs of exhaustion, excitement, and fear. All completely normal, natural emotions, but this was something else, as well.

‘Have you never been away from home before, Mister Pullings?’

‘No, sir, I haven’t.’ The lad looked up at him, sitting on the deck with his knees to his chest, a lost expression on his face, ‘I’ve no friends, no family here, no one to recommend me.’

‘Someone must have said something, to you or your parents.’ He crouched by the lad, ‘And I imagine Lieutenant Aubrey would be a bit miffed if you didn’t think of him as a new friend, at least.’

‘Would I be in trouble, sir?’

‘I can’t imagine you’ve done anything terrible enough for that, lad.’ He put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, ‘And nothing you tell me gets past my door unless you want it to.’

‘Really?’

‘You have my word.’ He promised, ‘Now, what’s on your mind, then?’

‘I…didn’t tell anyone.’

‘You ran away from home?’ Stephen raised an eyebrow.

‘Yes, sir.’ Hot shame flushed the lad’s face red, as did the effort to hold back tears.

‘Where did you come from?’

‘My family’s from Farnham, sir.’

‘How long did it take you to get to London?’ He touched the lad’s forehead, but his skin was cool. Emotional, not feverish.

‘Th-three days.’

‘If you didn’t leave a note for anyone, your parents will worry. But I gave my word.’ He sighed, stroking the boy’s hair carefully, ‘I won’t tell anyone.’

‘Really, sir?’

‘I promised.’ He smiled, letting Pullings lean against him, ‘Poor lad, no wonder you’re out of sorts. You’ll stay here until muster, then I’ll figure out what we’re going to do about you.’

‘Will you tell the captain?’

‘The captain must know, but he’s a good friend of mine. He’ll understand.’

‘I’m sorry, sir.’ Pullings sniffed, rubbing his nose with his sleeve. Whatever reassurance Stephen would have offered, never got said. Instead, he found himself in a familiar predicament.

‘Oh, no.’ He sighed, looking at the bewildered, trembling Chimera Familiar in his lap. ‘Are you alright, Pullings?’

‘What just happened to me?! Did you do something to me?’

‘No, my boy, I’m afraid you did it yourself.’ He stayed very still, ‘I knew you were one of us, my lad. Your eyes, subtle.’

‘One of what?’

‘You, my dear lad, are a Chimera. I can’t be certain if yours is inherited or acquired.’

‘Oh. A…oh, what did Nana call them?’ The lad’s nose twitched, ‘Sha-er…shif…ugh.’

‘Shapeshifter?’

‘Yeah! One of those? I’m a Shapeshifter, sir?’

‘It certainly seems you are, Mister Pullings.’ He smiled, ‘You are the…fourth Chimera I’ve met, did you know that?’

‘There’s more of us?’

‘Oh, yes, plenty!’ He smiled and leaned down, ‘See, I’m one myself, and so is Lieutenant Aubrey.’

‘Really?’

‘I promise.’ He stroked the narrow muzzle and pointed ears, ‘Now, enough of this business. We both must sleep, for whatever few hours we have to ourselves. Would you like to sleep down here?’

‘I…’

‘I only asked for your sake, dear.’ He got up carefully, holding Pullings close against him, and set him down inside the hammock.

It was a matter of remembered efficiency to remove his shoes, coat, and neck-cloth. These things were set aside, and he picked up Pullings again, but only for as long as it took to settle into his hammock. With his free hand, he dragged the blanket over himself and his small, fuzzy bedfellow. Pullings made some noise of discontent, but did not wake, and he chuckled.

‘Good night, lad.’ He murmured, content to rest for a while.

Maybe three hours later, Stephen was dragged out of the fringes of sleep by something bouncing on his chest. Reaching out to catch whatever it was, his hand made contact with a small, furry object. Bits of the last few hours of the previous night reassembled themselves, and he sighed as sharp, tiny teeth pulled on his shirt-cuff, catching on his skin.

‘Pullings…’ He cracked an eye open, ‘I would say it’s far too early for these antics, lad.’

‘Up with the sun, sir!’ Pullings said proudly, leaving off his tug-of-war with Stephen’s shirt while he tried to sit up.

‘You would be, wouldn’t you?’ he swung his feet carefully over the edge and leaned over, setting Pullings on the floor, ‘I hope you got some kind of rest, son.’

‘Did you, sir?’

‘Not as much as I should have, but enough for the purpose.’ He groaned as he got to his feet, stretching a few kinks out of his frame. Pullings did the same at his feet, stretching like a cat as a yawn showed sharp teeth. He chuckled as he collected his coat and shoes.

‘You said your grandmother had spoken of Chimeras last night.’

‘Aye, sir. We’ve got ‘em in my family, but none of my parents are.’

‘It’s been known to skip generations. Mine certainly did.’ He finished preparations for the morning, listening to the sounds beyond the door of his small cabin, ‘Do you know how to Shift back, son?’

‘No, sir, I don’t. I’ve never done it before last night with you.’ Pullings sat on the floor, looking distinctly confused about things. ‘How do you Shift back?’

‘I’ll show you after muster. No one here will mind you showing as you are, it will not be first or only time it’s happened.’ He opened the door of his cabin and looked out, ‘Come along, lad.’

‘Coming, sir.’ Pullings was at his heel but hesitated to come out.

‘No one is going to step on you, son.’ He promised, knowing what worried the lad, ‘Come along.’

‘Are you sure, sir?’

‘As certain as I can be. Out you come.’ He turned to look over his shoulder, ‘Come along, Tom.’

‘Alright.’ Clearly not trusting, Pullings warily stepped out of Stephen’s small quarters.

No one really seemed to notice that a small, grey fox with brown and yellow eyes was following him. And no one thought to question why he was being followed by a Familiar until he got up onto the main deck in search of the lieutenants.

‘Good morning, Doctor!’ There was Aubrey, up on the Quarterdeck with the rest of the senior officers. Stephen chuckled and turned.

‘Good morning, Lieutenant Aubrey.’ He shaded his eyes against the rising sun, ‘I won’t ask how well you slept; none of us got more than a few hours.’

‘Indeed.’ Aubrey shrugged, ‘But, where’s Tom? He’d better not miss this.’

‘He’s here, Lieutenant.’ Stephen smiled and looked over his shoulder, where Pullings sat obediently by his heel, ‘He stayed in my cabin last night, and I imagine he will again tonight and for as long as he wishes.’

‘You can’t possibly have enough room for him there!’

‘I have plenty of it.’ He headed for the quarterdeck stairs, going up and stopping just at the top. ‘Good morning, Rob.’

‘’Morning, Stephen.’ Robert Ferguson beckoned him onto the Quarterdeck with a smile, ‘I seem to be missing one of my crew, sir. Would you happen to know anything of it?’

‘Which of them is gone missing, then?’

‘One of the youngsters. Aubrey and Nisbet brought along a lad by the name of Pullings.’

‘He’s here, Rob.’ Stephen leaned down and carefully scooped Pullings off the deck, ‘I’m afraid we can add another one to the growing roster of Chimeras.’

‘Tom?!’ Aubrey and Nisbet looked at each other, completely baffled, ‘Oh, what happened?’

‘A Trauma Shift. Our young mister here might have snuck off to join the Royal Navy.’ Stephen handed Pullings over to Aubrey, ‘Not a thing is wrong with him, though. He wants to stay as he is.’

‘Well, it won’t be the first time that’s happened.’ Ferguson studied his Chimeran youngster, ‘So, Mister Pullings?’

‘Good morning, Captain, sir. I’m sorry for any trouble.’

‘The only trouble you might have to apologise for is any letters we’ll be getting from your dear mother in a panic to find you, son.’ Ferguson chuckled, ‘How old are you, lad?’

‘Ten, sir.’

‘Hmm. Well, for now, stay with Doctor Maturin. I’ll decide where exactly to put you once we’re underway, lad.’

‘Yes, sir. Where are we going?’

‘The Mediterranean, son.’

‘Oh, I’ve heard of it.’ Pullings said quietly as Aubrey set him on the deck while muster was called.

Once that business was taken care of, Ferguson decided to get them underway. Aubrey took Pullings aloft to watch as they left the harbour, but Stephen stayed put on deck. Climbing access ladders was one thing, but scaling the rigging was something he didn’t feel quite like doing yet. He could, of course, and had on many occasions, but he didn’t feel the need to do so just yet. Besides, he had enough to do without risking his neck aloft.

Chapter Text

The Surprise spent two months cruising the coast of France, Spain, and Portugal before heading through the Straits into the Mediterranean. It was mostly quiet, which was fine by Stephen and his friends. During those quiet months, Stephen kept company with the captain and officers he knew most intimately. He also cared for young Tom Pullings, who was installed on the crew as an Ordinary Seaman and assigned to Jack Aubrey. He seemed to spend more time with Stephen, which was just fine since that’s usually where Aubrey could also be found. If anyone thought it strange that one of the lieutenants spent so much time down in the sickbay, they were smart enough to keep it to themselves.

Come Christmas, they were cruising off the coast of Italy. During a visit to Palermo, Sicily, for re-provisioning, Stephen made a special visit to one of the many shops in the capital city. He had long thought about what Aubrey had told him months ago back in London: the sinking of the Ouragan had cost him a treasured possession when he had lost his violin. It was far easier to replace objects than people, and being a lover of music and the violin as much as Aubrey was, he had decided to return a passion to him.

‘Buongiorno, signore!’ The man behind the counter called out cheerfully as Stephen carefully pushed the door shut behind him.

‘Ah, buongiorno, signore!’ He returned the greeting, looking around carefully. He knew what he wanted, it was a simple matter of finding it. ‘Eh, I’m looking for a certain thing.’

‘I have many things! How can I help?’

‘Do you have anything from Cremona?’ He wandered towards one wall. Places like this always carried instruments from different regions, ‘Or can you recommend one from Palermo?’

‘Sì, signore! Sì!’ The shopkeeper bustled out from behind the counter, eager to help him, chattering excitedly in the local dialect the whole while.

Stephen chuckled and followed the animated little fellow, explaining his precise needs.

‘A good and very dear friend of mine has sadly lost his violin some months ago.’ He said carefully, taking down a beautiful violin bearing the marks of a Stradivarius. ‘I would like to give him something to replace it.’

‘Ah, ah! Molto gentile, signore!’ The shopkeeper clapped his hands, ‘Very generous, very kind of you! A good friend?’

‘A very good friend. I’m afraid it was because of the French.’

‘Un affare terribile!’ The man’s expression twisted, and he turned his head to spit.

Stephen had suspected this was a safer place for British sailors, Sicily was an ally of theirs. As he set the Stradivarius back on its rack, the man grabbed him by the hand and pulled him towards the back of the shop. From the rapid-fire conversation, Stephen gathered that the man’s relatives were luthiers themselves and some of their finest wares were not kept up in the front of the store. If it was something very special Stephen was looking for, then they would find it in the back room.

Sure enough, through a small, curtained doorway that he had to duck to get through was another room full of tables and workstations, each one occupied.

The man called out to one of the workers, a lovely young woman just about Aubrey’s age with flawless olive skin, wide green eyes, and curly brown hair. Raising her head, she spotted them, and she asked a question of the shopkeeper. Whatever answer he gave her, she was on her feet in a hurry and reaching for one of the many completed instruments on the racks behind her.

‘My daughter.’ The shopkeeper explained, ‘Maria. One of our best.’

‘Is this one she made?’ He took the offered instrument carefully. The shopkeeper repeated his question, and the girl nodded, dropping a curtsy.

‘Oh, this is beautiful.’ He was almost afraid to handle the violin; it was nearly a work of art. The body was locally sourced wood, stained black—no, not black, dark, dark blue. The tailpiece was varnished native wood, unstained with a lovely dark hue. There were small gold-painted details along the neck and fingerboards, as well as the body.

‘Is she willing to sell this?’ He inquired quietly, knowing he would pay any price for this.

‘Would you like it, signore? For your friend?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then you will give it to him.’ The shopkeeper smiled, ‘Come back out with us. We will settle our business!’

‘Grazie.’ He returned the instrument to Maria, who spoke to her father, who smiled and beckoned to Stephen.

He refused to discuss prices until Maria had come; after all, it was her hard work. The shopkeeper did not argue the point, and Stephen settled on a reasonable price with Maria for the beautiful violin.

After completing sale negotiations, they exchanged holiday wishes, and Stephen returned to the Surprise. He was careful to conceal the gift for Aubrey, but it was a near thing when Aubrey and Pullings crashed into his cabin in high spirits.

‘Doctor! Doctor, you have to come with us!’

‘Are you off somewhere, lads?’ He asked, smiling at the energy of the pair.

‘We’re going into town. Will you come with us, sir?’ Pullings took him by the hand, ‘Would you please, Doctor?’

‘Is Nisbet coming?’

‘He’s already there. Not that I think we’ll be seeing him anytime soon.’ Aubrey’s eye-roll said everything, and Stephen chuckled, making a mental note to stock up on a few more things for his apothecary's chest.

‘Very well, lads. Come along.’ He picked up his hat and let them out again.

Up on deck, he decided to let Ferguson know where they were going.

‘Didn’t you just get back from there?’ The captain looked highly amused.

‘I might have, but it will be no trial to go out again.’ He promised, ‘I don’t suppose I could convince you to come along?’

‘Throw in a bottle of wine, and I’ll call it even.’

‘A pleasure, then!’ He beckoned to the boys, who disappeared to wait on shore while Ferguson went to let his officers know where he would be for a few hours.

It was like watching a puppy explore their new surroundings as Pullings gawked and exclaimed about nearly everything they saw.

‘I suppose this sort of thing is completely different for a farm boy from Farnham.’ Rob whispered as Pullings caught sight of…something and took off with an excited yelp.

‘Aye.’ Stephen chuckled. ‘Jack! Look after him!’

‘I’ll get him, sir!’ Aubrey promised, calling after the eager youngster before he got too far away.

When they caught up with the pair, they found Pullings had discovered a street performer with some puppets. The lad was wholly enthralled and tried to see over some taller patrons but couldn’t quite. Without wasting a minute, Aubrey leaned down and whispered something, dropping into a crouch to let the boy climb onto his shoulders.

‘This might be the lad’s first Christmas away from home, but it’s one he’ll remember for years.’ Ferguson murmured, ‘Aubrey took to him right away.’

‘He’s got a heart of gold.’ Stephen folded his arms as they watched the performance from a little distance away from the boys. ‘He’s got no siblings of his own, and Pullings is like a brother to him.’

‘He’s the one who keeps on him about writing letters to home, ain’t he?’

‘Well, both of us are, considering what that boy did to get to us in the first place.’ Stephen sighed, remembering too well that first frantic exchange of letters between himself and Tom’s parents.

Lyssa and Thomas Pullings were simple folks dedicated to their work and their son. So, when Tom suddenly vanished and resurfaced three days later in London, only to take off aboard a Royal Navy frigate bound for the Mediterranean, they were understandably upset. Stephen had found out their names and address from Tom and written to them with the promise that he would take personal responsibility for Tom while he was with the Surprise. He was also being looked after by the frigate’s second lieutenant, Jack Aubrey, so he was in pretty good hands. And if anything should happen, they would find out first through him.

‘Come on, there’s a bottle of wine to be had.’ Ferguson pulled on his sleeve, ‘We can leave the boys to their business.’

‘After you.’ He shrugged, letting Ferguson lead the way through the cheerful, crowded streets. He waved to Aubrey as they left, but he knew the boys would be alright for a few hours alone.

Finding a small café, they settled at a corner table, and Stephen ordered a bottle of wine and asked for two glasses. The proprietor smiled and bustled off to take care of their order. Coming back, he laid down the bottle, glasses, and a few small dishes with bits of cheese, bread, and olives.

‘So, what were you up to while you were here earlier?’ Ferguson asked once they each had a glass of wine.

‘A bit of personal business.’ Stephen smiled, thinking of the gift he had for Aubrey.

‘Ah?’

‘Hmm.’ He shrugged, ‘You know Aubrey lost most of his worldly possessions when the Ouragan sank nine months ago?’

‘Aye, that I do.’

‘I’ve taken it upon myself to replace one of those things for him.’

‘I can’t imagine what you did.’ Ferguson raised an eyebrow.

‘He lost a violin; I assume it was a gift from his mother. He had owned it for several years and told me how upset he was to have lost such a thing.’

‘You replaced that lad’s violin?!’

‘I did. From one of the local makers, as it is.’ He smiled, ‘I’ve managed to secret it away until I can give it to him.’

‘Never mind Aubrey’s heart of gold; yours is big enough!’ Ferguson shook his head, ‘Jesus, Stephen!’

‘I regret nothing and would do it again in a heartbeat.’

‘You would.’ Ferguson gave him a significant look, ‘You’re a good man, Stephen Maturin. Never let anyone tell you otherwise.’

‘If they have, I’ve not bothered to listen.’ He refilled their glasses.

Their peace was short-lived, as Aubrey and Pullings decided to join them. Stephen chuckled and had a word with the waiter. Two more glasses and some food were ordered. It was fun to listen to Pullings carry on about the puppets and hard not to be affected by the lad’s excitement.

‘Thomas.’ Stephen counselled as the lad talked nearly faster than a thought could process.

‘Yes, sir?’

‘Breathe, lad, and don’t forget to eat something.’ He chuckled. ‘For all love. Slow down.’

‘Sorry, sir.’ Pullings flushed, ‘I got so excited.’

‘It’s alright, son, it’s my job to make sure you don’t forget the important things.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Pullings took the glass of water he handed over. Aubrey and Ferguson shared a look but said nothing.

It was another hour before they returned to the Surprise, and after calling muster and all-hands to deck, they set off for another cruise around the area.

‘Christmas at sea.’ He mused, watching the island disappear into the distance behind the Surprise. ‘I suppose it’s better I have no family to miss me.’

‘And the family that would, knows exactly how to find you.’ Ferguson said behind him, watching from the windward rail.

‘Aye, they do.’ He sighed.

‘This isn’t what you saw yourself doing with the rest of your life, is it?’

‘Hmm?’

‘This.’ A broad, encompassing gesture at where they were standing, what they were doing. ‘This isn’t what you thought you would do with yourself when you accidentally introduced your sister to my best friend.’

‘Oh.’ Stephen chuckled. ‘I suppose I didn’t. I always kept my distance from deeper involvement with the Royal Navy, and here I am knee-deep in it.’

‘I haven’t heard a complaint yet of it from you or anyone else.’ Ferguson came and stood next to him, ‘Maybe someone complained about how much time you spend with the commanding officers of any post, which has only been one so far beyond mine.’

‘You’re my friend, Rob, Miller is my brother-in-law, and…I’m not certain how I would classify Nelson.’

‘I wouldn’t try to.’ That got a smile, ‘Maybe a friend of interest, if it’s really that important.’

‘But he’s more than that.’ He leaned against the rail and looked over the side to the water below, churning out in white streaks from the rudder and curling away in beautiful, mesmerising swirls of foam.

‘You are deucedly picky about your friends, even the people you talk to. And he talks too much, can be the most…’

‘Pompous?’

‘Yes, thank you. I was afraid to say it myself.’

‘It seems to be a terrible habit of men like him. What they lack in height, they make up for in attitude.’ Stephen shrugged, only able to say that because he’d said it to Nelson once.

‘Which might make perfect sense if you consider his Familiar.’

‘I admit to laughing at him when he showed me. I’m not sure what I expected, but a Border Terrier was both a perfect fit and nothing at all what I thought it would be.’

‘And yours is a cat?’

‘I have no idea what I look like, actually.’

‘You don’t? Has no one told you?’

‘No.’

‘Interesting. I suppose it makes no difference to you either way.’

‘None at all. Aubrey copied me once, but I don’t know if he looked exactly like me.’

‘In the Canaries?’

‘Aye.’

‘I remember Miller said he took an orange cat that once. Saw two of them on the beach.’

‘Huh.’ Stephen chuckled, ‘An orange cat. Interesting.’

‘Well, reddish-orange is what he said.’ Ferguson shrugged, ‘I wasn’t too surprised, though. I don’t think any of us were.’

‘None of you who knew me better.’

‘That’s more than a few.’

‘And not one who would speak up if trouble came for us.’

‘Oh, no. Not for any pretty asking.’

‘This is why we’ve been friends for such a long time, I think.’

He caught sight of Edwin Philips, who was now first of the company’s lieutenants, with Aubrey and Nisbet below him.

‘I see Philips stayed with you through whatever you’ve experienced since March?’

‘I had to do some pretty asking to keep him, but he didn’t seem to mind much.’ Ferguson chuckled, ‘He was asking about you, y’know.’

‘I can’t imagine I made that much of an impression on him; we barely had a thing to do with each other.’

‘Why do you do that?’ Ferguson’s expression shifted, ‘You seem to think that the amount of time you spend with someone is directly related to how they remember you or not. And that is very far from the truth.’

‘As others have reminded me.’ He shrugged, ‘What did he say?’

‘Well, when we got word back about the mess in the Canary Islands, he remembered that you’d gone with them and wanted to know if you’d made it back. So many didn’t.’

‘And you told him…?’

‘As far as my intelligence said, you were alive and well and irate.’

‘All true points. I think all of us who walked away from it were irate and lucky to be alive.’

‘And no one seems to hold the commanders responsible for the failure. They look elsewhere to lay blame.’

‘Nelson said they were blaming the Prime Minister of all people.’

‘I can see that. Not that I think he had a great deal of say in the matter, but what do we know?’

‘Indeed.’ Stephen shook his head.

He thought of the many conversations he’d had with his friends, the other commanders, and several heads of Naval leadership. Among them, he had spoken to Joseph Blaine. Speaking of righteous indignation, Blaine had said something about warning the rest of them about how well prepared the Spanish actually were in the Canaries and not to underestimate the enemy. And they’d done just that, to ruinous results.

It wouldn’t be the last time he experienced the wrong side of an engagement, but it had been his first. He didn’t count the clean-up efforts of the Ouragan; he hadn’t been intimately involved with the Navy at the time. If anything, that had been the genesis of his involvement.

‘Good afternoon, Doctor Maturin.’

‘Good afternoon, Lieutenant Philips.’ Stephen offered the man a smile, ‘Merry Christmas, sir.’

‘Likewise.’ Philips offered a brief smile before reporting to Ferguson.

He slipped away to see if anything needed to be done on his end, but everything was quiet, and his mates had everything under control.

An excited shout above-decks took him back up just in time for Aubrey and Pullings to report on what looked like a French treasure-ship bearing for the Strait at a healthy speed. But catching her would be simple; they were ahead of the Frenchman.

‘Bring us about!’ Ferguson barked, setting the crew in motion, ‘Mister Aubrey, beat to quarters.’

‘Aye, sir!’ Aubrey’s eyes glowed with excitement, and he turned to give the order.

‘Mister Pullings, strike our colours!’

‘Aye, sir!’ Off he went like a shot, disappearing below decks in a hurry. Stephen chuckled and went back down to make sure everything was to rights in sickbay.

^

Two hours later, they’d taken the Astolat and relieved her of her cargo, paroled her crew at Gibraltar, and set anchor in the harbour. The Astolat went on record as a prize for the Surprise, and the business of deciding her prize-master to return her to England was settled. It came down to the lieutenants, which would get her. It should have gone to Philips, but he demurred and suggested one of the others get her instead. That left a coin toss between Nisbet and Aubrey.

Stephen was called upon to administer the bet and declared that heads went to Aubrey, tails to Nisbet, best of four tosses. It ended in a draw, so the final toss would decide the assignment. The coin spun in the light of the great cabin’s lanterns, dropped to the deck with a clatter, bounced twice, spun, and toppled over. Tom, who had been standing behind Stephen with a hand tight on his coat, stepped around and crouched by the coin.

‘Heads!’ He looked up, excited, ‘It landed on Heads this time!’

‘Congratulations, Jack.’ Nisbet shook hands with Aubrey, ‘See you when you come back.’

‘Cheers.’ Aubrey grinned, ‘Maybe you’ll get the next one.’

‘If Philips doesn’t take it, I will.’ Nisbet shrugged. The boys had become fast friends, for which Stephen and Nelson were both grateful.

‘You need to choose your prize-crew, Aubrey.’ Ferguson said carefully, cheerfully. Aubrey’s expression narrowed, and he tapped his fingers together.

‘I know I want to take Pullings with me; it’d be wrong not to. And it wouldn’t hurt to have a medical man with us, neither.’

‘One of the surgeon’s mates, maybe?’

‘Thomson would be a sure choice.’ Stephen added, knowing by now the personalities and vices of the surgeon’s mates that he had taken responsibility for when Mitchell Read had left to be with his wife.

‘Mm. I’d rather have someone I already trust, just this once.’ Aubrey shook his head, and Stephen traded a look with Ferguson. ‘I apologise for the inconvenience, Captain.’

‘It’s only an inconvenience if you don’t come back with him.’ Ferguson said with a sly grin, dismissing Stephen with a quick gesture.

‘Come along, Tom.’ He called to Pullings, who was quick to follow him.

‘Are we really going with Mister Aubrey, sir?’

‘It seems we are, son.’ He patted Pullings on the shoulder, ‘But this isn’t the last we’ll see of the Surprise.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Pullings looked uncertain, but Stephen didn’t blame him at all.

Collecting and packing up their belongings didn’t take very long, and most of it went across to the Astolat on the first transfer. That was fine with Stephen because he could keep the violin safe for a while longer. Once the matter of the Astolat’s prize-crew had been settled, they departed for home waters. They took a press from Gibraltar to fill out the rosters, which took some time, but they were homeward in no time.

It was nearly midnight when Stephen knocked on the door of the great-cabin, admitted by the young sentry. Closing the door behind him, going as far as locking it, he found the place quiet and dim-lit. He didn’t immediately see the captain and set his gift on the lockers by the windows.

‘Stephen?’

‘Yes.’ He turned from the windows to find Aubrey in the archway separating the bed-place from the main cabin, ‘Did I wake you?’

‘Nah. I wasn’t sleeping well.’ The younger man came out, dim-eyed and hair messy with sleep, missing his coat and shoes. ‘Neither were you, it seems.’

‘I came to give you something.’ He glanced at the lockers, ‘If you’d like to open it now, you may.’

‘Did you get me a Christmas present?’

‘It seemed the right thing to do.’ He had learned to travel with his work where Aubrey was concerned and pulled a small glass vial from his pocket as the lad went to inspect his offering. ‘That’s nearly a week now, lad.’

‘I’m sorry.’ Aubrey touched the unadorned wrapping, ‘I…can’t.’

‘What keeps you awake?’

‘I’ve never slept terribly well, least not since the night the Ouragan sank.’

‘Night terrors, then.’ He found a nearly-full glass of wine on the table and made good use of it.

It would explain some of the unusual nocturnal habits Stephen had noticed in the few months he’d been involved with Aubrey. He wasn’t constantly in company with the young man, but he spent enough time with him to be familiar with certain habits and patterns.

‘Oh, Stephen.’ He turned from what he was doing as Aubrey discovered exactly what he’d gotten for him, ‘Is this what I think it is?’

‘Aye, lad.’

‘Oh, it’s beautiful! It’s…blue? Or black? Something of both?’

‘Something of both.’ He smiled.

‘Is this…gold inlay?’ Studying the intricate designs along the scroll and neck.

‘Paint, inlay, and foiling, I imagine.’ He finished what he was doing and held the glass out to Aubrey, ‘The young woman I bought that from was very proud of her work.’

‘It’s a work of art!’ Aubrey took the glass from him after setting the violin down very carefully, ‘Why did you buy it?’

‘You were missing the one you lost ten months ago.’ He shrugged as he took the lad’s free hand and carefully measured his pulse. As with Nelson, he’d gotten very good at looking after Aubrey in small, efficient ways.

‘D’you think anyone actually notices when you do that?’

‘Not very likely they would.’ He smiled and looked up to meet those beautiful mismatched eyes, ‘Or say if they did.’

‘You can be as quick to hurt as to heal if someone wrongs you.’ Aubrey mused, studying the contents of the glass, ‘What is this?’

‘Poppy wine. Ten parts wine to one of laudanum. That’s a measure of it, further diluted by the wine you didn’t finish earlier, so it won’t be full-strength.’

‘Ugh, it smells terrible.’

‘And tastes worse. I can’t do anything about that, but if it’s sleep you need, you’ll get it.’ He watched carefully as Aubrey obediently drank the whole contents, steadying his hand before the glass fell and broke.

‘Ugh! How is that supposed to help anything?!’ The boy’s expression said everything, and he stifled a chuckle.

‘Long practice of giving it to those seeking sleep.’ He promised, giving him another cup, this one of fresh water, ‘This is only water. Drink.’

‘That was disgusting!’

‘I warned you!’ He took the half-empty glass when Aubrey gave it back to him and pushed the lad towards the bed-place, ‘Now, come along. Just a few steps this way.’

‘Is it supposed to work that quickly?’

‘Shuffle if you must, lad.’ He got under Aubrey’s shoulder, glad that the boy wasn’t at his full growth yet. Someday, he’d outweigh Stephen by several stone; right now, he could get away with physical handling.

‘One foot in front of the other, dear. Come along.’

‘You’re too good to me, Maturin.’

‘Someday, you’ll be sick of me, my dear. Sleep, now.’ He scolded, steering Aubrey towards the waiting hammock.

It was a matter of careful manoeuvring and patience, but he finally got the exhausted captain situated. Tossing the blanket over him, Stephen wished the lad a sound sleep and carefully took his leave. If nothing else, at least Aubrey would sleep more than an hour tonight. Making sure the door of the great cabin was shut securely, he did a walk-through of the sleeping ship.

The ship was quiet, and everything was as it should be for the hour. Satisfied by his brief patrol, Stephen checked back on Aubrey. He heard the rumbling snores from the bed-place and simply pulled the door shut, sparing the dozing sentry a quick glance. The lad hadn’t twitched while he did his checks, but straightened up as the door clicked shut. Seeing that it was only Stephen, he relaxed again.

Stephen retreated to his own small berth. Displacing Pullings, who had curled up in Familiar on his hammock, he settled for the night. Stephen fell asleep rocked by the tides and kept warm by a few stone lightweight of fox on his chest. Funny how the lad’s Familiar was a fox-kit. 

Chapter Text

Two months later, they had successfully sailed the Astolat home to Portsmouth and had her put in records as a prize to Captain Ferguson’s Surprise. Then, of course, the officers had to wait on the pleasures of the Admiralty for a new commission. It was March before anything changed, and Stephen was about to owe his landlord a new rug in the study if Jack Aubrey didn’t stop pacing. He had brought Aubrey and Pullings on to live with him after returning from Spain, just to keep a better eye on the pair between commissions.

Stephen received a letter from Nelson, a summons, in mid-March. He had a flagship, he had orders, all he needed were numbers. And he wanted Stephen, and Aubrey. If they could think of anyone else needing a place to go and an urge for hunting the French, they were welcome to come along. Oh, and if he could possibly hunt down Josiah Nisbet again, he would be indebted.

Stephen snickered and peered out to the sitting-room where he’d left Tom working on his writing.

‘Tom?’

‘Sir?’

‘You wouldn’t know where to find Lieutenant Aubrey and Nisbet, would you?’

‘Nisbet’s down off of Crown Street, sir, and I think Aubrey’s at the extension?’

‘Thought as much.’ He chuckled, ‘Well, my lad, go pack your things, we’re off again.’

‘We are?!’ The boy’s head shot up, and Stephen smiled, cleaning his glasses.

‘Go on. I expect the lieutenants any moment.’

‘Yes, sir!’ In a rush, Tom bolted to his feet and disappeared in a flash, charging upstairs with enough noise to warrant a stampede.

‘What on earth has gotten into that boy this time?’ Martha exclaimed as Tom rushed past her at the door.

‘I’m going back to sea, Miss Martha!’ Tom yelled down from halfway up the stairs.

‘Oh, Heavens, that child!’ Martha shook her head, setting down the tray she carried. ‘He’ll not be outgrowing that anytime soon enough, will he?’

‘I’m afraid not, Martha.’ Stephen chuckled.

‘Bless ‘im, he’s a good boy.’ Martha looked up at the ceiling as the sounds of Tom haphazardly packing his things reached them, ‘You’re a good man for taking care of him, Doctor Maturin.’

‘It’s the least I can do.’ He gathered up the books and papers laid on the table and packed them away.

Not three minutes later, the front door crashed open.

‘Maturin!’ Aubrey bellowed, ‘Are you here?!’

‘Study!’ He called back, ‘Is Josiah with you?’

‘We’re here, sir!’ The pair appeared, bright-eyed and breathless, ‘Is it true? Are we really going?!’

‘We are.’ He eyed up the pair and narrowed his eyes, ‘But not with the pair of you looking like that!’

‘Like what?’ They traded a confused look. Stephen raised an eyebrow as he handed each of them a cup of tea.

‘Like that, son.’

‘Lads, you will not report to Portsmouth or wherever your commission lays out of uniform!’ Martha scolded, ‘The number of buttons and patches I’ve sewn for the three of you! Not on my watch, sirs, no!’

‘God bless you, Martha.’ Aubrey dropped a kiss on Martha’s cheek, ‘We’d be lost without you, wouldn’t we?’

‘Huh. You’re young enough to be my son, Lieutenant.’ Martha patted Aubrey on the hip and went around the pair to the door, ‘You two take a minute to breathe, I’ll be upstairs.’

‘Thank you, Martha.’ Stephen watched his housekeeper go, listened to her footsteps going up, the tune she sang to herself, and shook his head.

‘You know she’ll pull out reporting uniforms for all three of us.’ Nisbet muttered, ‘I am going to miss the way she makes tea, though.’

‘I think we all will.’ Stephen kept an ear to the goings on upstairs.

Maybe ten minutes passed before Martha came back downstairs. She had Tom in uniform, ready for the journey from London to Portsmouth.

‘Thank you, Martha.’ Stephen flicked a wrinkle out of the collar of Tom’s coat, not that there were many at all, ‘You didn’t have to do that.’

‘My boys won’t report looking half-ready, sir. Not while I have the faculties to keep them right.’

‘You’re an angel, Mrs Hudson.’ Nisbet said quietly, ‘You have no responsibility to look after us, but you do anyway.’

‘Because you won’t look after yourselves! Can’t be bothered, any of you, too busy with your lives! Let me do the worrying after.’ Martha said stoutly. ‘Now, you two, go upstairs. Your uniforms are ready for you.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ The boys set down empty cups and went upstairs to change.

Stephen took care of collecting trunks and luggage, stacking everything in the hall by the front door. Wisely, the boys had hired a wagon to carry everything down to Portsmouth, and he had their things loaded in while he waited for them.

Not ten minutes more had gone by before Aubrey and Nisbet showed themselves, this time dressed to their housekeeper’s very precise specifications.

‘Now, that’s proper!’ She said cheerfully, ‘How are you all getting down there?’

‘The wagon has our dunnage, but we’ll go on horseback.’ Aubrey indicated the four waiting horses. ‘We will, of course, stop somewhere on our road down.’

‘Good.’

‘Maybe in Farnham.’ And that got Tom’s attention.

‘Oh, can I go home, then?’ He asked, eyes bright, ‘Just to say goodbye?’

‘You may, lad. Of course, you may.’ Stephen chuckled and held the reins for Tom. Born into a family of farmers, he knew more about riding horses than most people knew about sailing, and settled quickly and easily.

‘All of you, be safe!’ Martha scolded once they were all mounted up, ‘I don’t need to be hearing from any Navy agents that you lot got into some worse trouble and won’t be coming home.’

‘We can’t make that promise, Mrs Hudson, but we’ll do our very best.’

‘And that’s all I can ask for. Write letters for me.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’ And Stephen knew they would. To the best of their abilities, letters home to Martha Hudson would be written from their stations in the Mediterranean theatre.

‘Good luck, lads!’

‘Goodbye, Mrs Hudson!’ They called back in unison, waving goodbye to the woman who looked after them because they couldn’t bother looking after themselves “properly”.

The ride down from London was quiet but not silent, Tom talked nonstop about his family and how excited he was for the rest of them to properly meet his parents. Until now, they’d only communicated by letters between the Pullings family holdings in Farnham and either Stephen’s Navy stations in the Mediterranean or London. He had never had a chance to meet the people responsible for raising one of the most intelligent, kind youngsters he’d been lucky enough to know.

‘I think he might’ve been homesick.’ Aubrey leaned over with a conspiratorial whisper.

‘He absolutely has been homesick. This will be good for all of them.’ Stephen just smiled, looking over his shoulder to make sure the wagon was still there behind them.

Two hours later, Tom pointed out the road to his family’s farm.

‘There!’

‘Go ahead, Tom.’ Stephen waved the lad on ahead of them, waiting for the wagon to catch up.

‘Should we be ready to stay overnight, you think?’ Nisbet whispered as Tom took off at a gallop, shouting loud enough for neighbouring farms to hear him.

‘It wouldn’t be the worst thing to be ready for.’ He waved down the drover, who took the change of plans in stride and offered to let them take off anything they might need.

‘No tellin’ when you might get to Portsmouth, sirs.’ He gestured at the nearby farmstead, ‘‘Specially if that’s the lad’s family holdings.’

‘It is, in fact.’ Stephen finished what he was doing, ‘Take the rest of this along to Portsmouth and leave it with the harbour masters.’

‘Aye, sirs.’ The drover saluted and urged his team into motion once they had what few things they might need. It wasn’t much, admittedly.

‘Come on, then.’ Aubrey murmured, ‘Before he starts spinning wild tales.’

‘You know damn well it’s already too late for that, son.’ Stephen chuckled, shaking his head.

When they turned up the drive to Foxtail Farm, Tom’s childhood home, they were met by a pack of farm-dogs. Stephen got a great deal of attention, but they didn’t seem keen on really bothering him.

‘Lucky you, dogs usually can’t stand a cat within six miles.’

‘I guarantee the family has cats around, I’m just one more they don’t have to mind about.’ He shrugged, ‘Now, where did that boy get off to?’

‘There he is.’ Aubrey pointed to a small cluster of people between the house and the barn.

Tom was easy to identify in his blue coat, gesturing widely and wildly. There were four adults, and a few more children than he’d expected. The men broke away first, and of course Tom came running when they showed.

‘So, this is your home, Tom Pullings?’ Stephen leaned down and caught the boy up, ‘What made you leave it?’

‘I wanted an adventure out there.’ Tom waved at the road beyond the gate, ‘Couldn’t get one stayin’ home, could I?’

‘I suppose not, but warn someone the next time you decide it’s a good idea to go adventuring, young man.’ Stephen chuckled, looking down at the awe-struck men that had followed his mischievous young friend, ‘Thomas Pullings?’

‘Aye, sir. Are you Stephen Maturin, sir?’

‘That I am, Mister Pullings. We’ve been exchanging letters for quite some time, it’s nice to finally meet you.’ He let Tom down and dismounted, offering his hand to Tom’s father and namesake.

‘It’s an honour, sir! You’ve got our thanks for lookin’ after my boy long as you have.’

‘It’s a pleasure to look after him, and I don’t plan on letting him out of my sight any time in the near future.’ Stephen looked at Tom, who grinned, ‘He’s hard-working and loyal.’

‘We did our best, sir. But when he ran off last year, we feared the worst of it.’

‘Did you know he was thinking of joining the Royal Navy?’ Aubrey inquired from behind them, taking the reins from Stephen.

‘Aye, Lieutenant, but didn’t think he’d act on it the way he did. Don’t know what got into his head to make ‘im take off like he did,’ Tom’s grandfather shook his head, ‘but when we heard back he was safe, it was good enough for us.’

‘He’s a good lad, sir, wouldn’t try to wrong a man.’ Thomas Pullings said carefully, ‘His mother and I…we’ve tried to raise our children rightly.’

‘You have a few of them, sir, bless you and your wife for your efforts.’ Stephen looked past the men to where Tom’s mother and grandmother had gathered the rest of the children, ‘We can’t impose on your hospitality very long, but this young man wanted to come home.’

‘You were good to bring him, and hosting the Navy is not an imposition.’ Tom’s grandfather said sternly, ‘If you’re of a mind to stay, we’d be glad to have you. For news, at the least.’

‘We would be happy to stay a while.’

‘Very good!’ The man had a good, firm handshake, ‘Robert Pullings is my name, my son is Thomas. First of ‘em, of course, then we’ve got that rascal.’ Pointing at Thomas, who just grinned at his grandfather.

Stephen felt a gentle tug on his coat and looked down. He knew what he would find, so the elfin-faced child hanging on his coat didn’t surprise him much.

‘Well, hello there, little one.’

‘Oh, Rachel!’

‘No, it’s alright.’ Stephen chuckled and reached down, ‘I adore children, and they seem to know it.’

It didn’t take long for Rachel, who seemed to be the youngest of the Pullings brood, to climb into his arms. But he didn’t end up holding a child, he ended up with a cat.

‘Ah hah! Just like your brother, you are!’ He looked at the parents, ‘This is fine, it wasn’t a startled Shift. Chimeras will do it if they feel comfortable with someone.’

‘But you’re a stranger! How would she know?’

‘I imagine it’s because of the way I smell.’ He smiled and ruffled the short, kitten-soft fur. ‘You’re a pretty thing, aren’t you, Rachel Pullings?’

He didn’t get a verbal response, the youngest Pullings showed her affection for the tall, strange Chimera her brother had brought home by climbing onto his shoulder and scent-marking.

‘I’ll be damned.’ Robert Pullings chuckled.

‘Rachel’s the shy one, sir.’ Tom offered, ‘She don’t take like that to anyone. Not without a few weeks of knowing ‘em first.’

‘In the last few years, Tom, I’ve learned not to question things.’ Stephen just smiled and scratched Rachel under the chin. Cats liked that, he had learned.

‘I wonder what’s different about you, Doctor Maturin.’ Robert rubbed his chin, intrigued by the dynamic. ‘Rachel won’t say a word to our neighbours, who’ve known her since she was born, but she’s taken right to you.’

‘Children are drawn to me, and I’ve never thought to question why.’ He thought of his fledgling network in Calenfell and Westray, how he occasionally got letters from the older ones who could write. ‘I grew a bit of a network in Westray and Calenfell while I was living there last year.’

‘That was nearly a full year ago, sir.’ Aubrey offered, ‘March the 23^rd, I believe it was.’

‘You are right, Lieutenant.’ Stephen nodded and shuffled little Rachel to his shoulder, she wanted to sit there rather than elsewhere. ‘I’d lived in Westray for almost a year by that time.’

‘And now you’re lookin’ after the trouble-makers of the Royal Navy.’ Robert Pullings eyed his grandson with a sly grin. ‘Guess you’ve figured he’s a Chimera, then.’

‘Entirely by chance. Which seems to be how most of my associate Chimeras have been found.’ Stephen shrugged carefully, not wishing to dislodge Rachel. She made a disgruntled noise at the gesture and dug tiny, needle-sharp claws into three layers of fabric.

‘I’m sorry, darling.’ He apologised, ‘If I didn’t think it would be a serious mistake, I’d love to introduce you to my sister, she’d be thrilled to have a Chimera youngster like her.’

‘Is your sister a Shapeshifter as well, then, Doctor?’ Robert’s wife, who looked every bit a Chimera mystic studied him, ‘It’s a family trait for you, like ours.’

‘Yes, madam, it is. And like yours, it skipped my parents to my sister and myself. I can’t say if she’s passed it to her children or not, I spend precious little time with my relations.’

‘By choice or by influence?’

‘A bit of both.’ He looked at Tom’s parents, ‘My parents are far less…open-minded than some families.’ He didn’t say “like yours is”, though he certainly thought it.

‘It’s a shame that people are less than caring for kin.’ Lyssa shook her head sadly, holding another of the youngsters on her hip, ‘But if it’s family you need, Doctor, you can find one in this place. This little corner of farmland is more than a house and fields.’

‘I felt the powers of this place when we came up the road.’ Stephen looked up at the clear sky, ‘The wards here are old and powerful.’

‘We were here before the country had a name.’ Robert said proudly, ‘There’s been Shapeshifters and Magic-users in our family since the start.’

‘And like all of us, I’m sure you’ve been called everything from witch to healer and what stands between.’

‘Good and bad alike. Never bothered us if it don’t bring trouble. Rarely does, these days.’

‘Talking can be done inside!’ Robert’s wife stated firmly, ‘Tom, you and Ben take care of the horses.’

‘Yes, Gram.’ Tom kissed his grandmother on the cheek and called one of his brothers over.

While the boys took care of the horses, Stephen and the other two headed for the nearby house. It was small but spacious, and plenty of home for anyone looking for a place to rest.

‘You didn’t bring much with you, son.’ Robert waited for Stephen when he came back from the upstairs, where they had been offered one of the bedrooms.

‘There’s not much need for excess in the Royal Navy, and I’ve never had much in the way of personal possessions.’ He heard the carrying on of the children, a yelp of excitement cut by the familiar laugh of Jack Aubrey. ‘None of us travel with much in the way of belongings, and whatever we do need for a brief stay is carried in a small pack, if anything.’

‘You don’t strike me as the sort to have much.’

‘It’s never been important. I spend too much time moving from place to place to need more than what I can carry. Going to service with the Royal Navy wasn’t much of a change in lifestyle.’

‘Except for where you live.’

‘I can blame my Familiar for my questionable relationship with water.’ He chuckled.

‘You strike me as the sort to have a cat Familiar.’

‘You’d be correct, sir.’ He looked over his shoulder at the soft patter of footsteps as little Rachel came downstairs behind him. ‘Which explains exactly why this one is fond of me. Like Familiars are drawn to each other, I’ve noticed.’

‘That one’s so picky about who she goes to, I wonder what was different about you.’ Robert smiled as he picked the child up, now back in Human Form.

Rachel didn’t like to let him far out of her sight, and refused to play with the others in the garden outside.

‘You know, darling, you are not going to come with me when we leave.’ He said gently, knowing if they didn’t make that clear right out of the gate, they’d find a stow-away once they got to Portsmouth.

‘No!’

‘Where I’m going, sweet, is no place you should ever think to be.’ He scolded, touching her on the nose, ‘Believe me, it’s hardly safe for any of us, and you least of us. Getting there is no danger, but what waits for us is entirely unsafe. And your family would miss you terribly.’

‘Well, if she goes missing at all, it’s a safe bet where she’d be found later.’ Robert just shook his head at his granddaughter’s odd affection for the tall stranger her brother had brought home. ‘I’d be checkin’ your things for stow-aways before you leave here. Knowin’ her, she’d hide out.’

‘I’ll certainly try.’ He headed for the back door, ‘Come along, darling, your siblings are outside.’

Going out, he put her down and gave her a gentle nudge to join her siblings. But it wasn’t her own family she went after, this time she set off after Aubrey.

‘Lion!’ she squealed, breaking into a run as she caught sight of the lad.

‘Lieutenant! You have incoming!’ Stephen called out in warning, giving Aubrey time to adjust his course if he needed to.

‘What was that about?’ Lyssa Pullings came to see what the ruckus was, just in time to see Aubrey snatch Rachel off her feet without breaking stride.

‘Rachel’s discovered a new friend, I think. She won’t be the first to call him that, I’m afraid.’ Stephen chuckled as Aubrey tossed Rachel into the air, which she loved, ‘And he does not mind this. He’s got no siblings of his own, took to Tom right away when they met.’

‘How did they meet?’

‘I can’t be certain, but I imagine after making his way to London from here. However, that was managed. Your son decided the best bet to get what he was after was to find someone with the Royal Navy.’ Stephen watched Aubrey and Nisbet with the children, ‘He might have asked around and found his way to the Whitehall headquarters, but how he joined Aubrey and Nisbet is anyone’s guess.’

‘And he’s been with ‘em ever since.’

‘Aubrey and I took him on after he joined us, it was no trouble.’ He remembered that first night aboard the Surprise, ‘Though I imagine he might have thought he would be in a bit if it came up that he’d actually run away from home.’

‘I feared for him, until you got us word that he’d found the Royal Navy. That he’d found you.’ Lyssa shook her head, ‘He’s not my eldest, but he’s my most headstrong. I’m sorry for any trouble he’s given you or will.’

‘Never apologise, your son is the sort of trouble I can manage.’ He put a hand on the woman’s shoulder, ‘That was the night we discovered that he’d picked up your family’s Chimeran traits.’

‘Oh, Thomas.’ Lyssa sighed, ‘That child. Was it a fox?’

‘Aye, little grey kit. He slept with me that night, and nearly every night after. He doesn’t take up much room, and I’d rather he be with friendly company than alone with strangers.’

‘You’re a good man, Stephen Maturin. If anyone tells you otherwise, they’re lyin’ to you and themselves.’

‘I’ve been called a traitor by my family, but I have no regrets for the action I took.’

‘Your family! Your parents?’

‘Because I dared to stand for my sister when they insulted her.’

‘That is no family at all. You broke ties with them?’

‘Aye. And regretted nothing. I see my sister far more frequently now than I did for years, but she’s the only family I still claim.’

‘Is she Royal Navy as well?’

‘Wife to one of Admiral Nelson’s flag-captains, Captain Miller. We’re friends beyond my sister’s marriage.’

‘Ralph Miller?’

‘Mmhm.’

‘He’s a good man. I didn’t realise he’d been married this long.’

‘Nearly ten years, with two beautiful daughters and a very hot-headed wife.’ Stephen chuckled, ‘They’ve been begging me for years to be more involved, and here I am.’

‘You got involved, I’d say! Been a year now?’

‘As of the 23^rd, in fact. I never regretted anything I did that day, and very little I’ve done in the days since.’ He shrugged, remembering with a familiar pang of regret exactly how he’d begun his deeper involvement with the Royal Navy.’

‘You don’t remember it well, do you? The memory still hurts.’

‘We buried a hundred and sixty men, out of three hundred. Those who weren’t buried were lost, and those who survived were recovered. It was an awful four days of hard work, but I never regretted a minute of it and would do it again if I had to.’

‘You’re a healer, you’ve got a gentle nature and a soft soul. I know the feel of it.’ Lyssa touched his arm, ‘I get it from my mother’s side.’

‘But wrong me, and you find me harsh indeed.’

‘Gentle does not mean timid. And your Irish blood is never to be underestimated. Born of a race of fierce warriors.’

‘My sister’s temper is worse than mine, I’m afraid.’ He shook his head as one of the children came running.

‘Mama, mama!’

‘What is it, Davey?’

‘Look, Mama! Lieutenant Aubrey found it!’ The boy, maybe six, was holding something in both hands.

‘What have you got there, Davey Pullings?’ Stephen dropped into a crouch as the boy reached them, ‘Is it alive?’

‘I think it is, sir.’ The boy carefully unfolded his hands to show them.

‘Oh, Davey.’ Lyssa breathed, ‘Where did you find him?’

‘Jack did!’ Davey pointed back towards Aubrey, who was coming back their way.

‘May I have him, Davey?’ Stephen asked quietly.

 Davey just nodded and carefully dropped his injured burden into Stephen’s hand. It was a bird, a nestling just old enough to start to fly.

‘What happened?’ He looked up at Aubrey, who was breathing hard and looked a bit ruffled.

‘Hawk. I watched it happen.’

‘And stopped it?’ He noticed a few scratches on the lad’s face and hands. ‘You’re reckless, you know that?’

‘Can you help it, Doctor Mati?’ Davey asked softly, eyes wide and earnest. Stephen felt a tug in his chest and sighed.

‘I suppose Maturin’s a bit of a mouthful for you, isn’t it, Davey?’

‘Sorry, sir.’

‘Don’t be. You’re not the first one to call me that.’ He studied the injured nestling and settled to get a better feel for the injuries. ‘Just be quiet for a moment.’

‘Yes, sir.’ The children obediently quieted and gave him a bit of room when Aubrey ushered them back. But Davey stayed close.

‘I can’t help him, he’s too young and weak.’ He looked at the children, ‘I’m sorry, darlings.’

‘Oh, that’s too bad!’ Davey looked heartbroken, ‘But Jack saved him from worse, didn’t he?’

‘He absolutely did.’ Stephen looked up at Aubrey, ‘How did you get involved?’

‘Size. Speed. It wasn’t expecting to be attacked from the tree it stole the nestling from.’

‘You didn’t…’ He knew what had happened and sighed, ‘Oh, for Christ’s sake. How big was he, Davey?’

‘Big! Like our dogs!’

‘Crios.’ He shook his head, ‘You’re damn lucky these people are familiar with Chimeras, or you’d be in more trouble! Where’s the hawk?’

‘One of the dogs got it.’ Nisbet pointed to one of the family’s dogs, who, sure enough, had something between its jaws. ‘Good hunting dogs, perfectly soft mouth.’

‘Jack, can you and Josiah handle that?’

‘Absolutely. Come on, Jos.’ Aubrey nodded and clapped Nisbet on the shoulder.

While the older boys handled the kill, Stephen focused on comforting the dying nestling. A chatter and fluttering was the parents.

‘I’m sorry, I can’t do anything.’ He looked up at the circling pair, ‘I’m so sorry.’

As he spoke, he felt the last spark of life sputter out. After the parents had gotten a look, the female sat for a moment on Stephen’s wrist and chirped softly.

‘You’ll have others, strong, healthy babies.’ He said quietly, ‘Be strong, mother.’

A fluttering rush of animal-consciousness gratitude touched his awareness, and then the pair were gone.

‘Come on, Davey.’ Stephen got up carefully, ‘You can help me.’

‘Where are you going?’

‘This way. Come along.’ He walked back around the house to the other side of the yard. Behind the barn, they dug a little hole six inches deep and laid the nestling inside, carefully covering it over.

‘Fly free in the Afterworld, little one.’ He said quietly as Davey drew a design in the soil. Where the lines were drawn, flowers sprang up.

‘Grandpa taught me how. Mama can do it, too.’ Davey said quietly. ‘But she can’t Shift; she’s not a Shapeshifter like Rachel and Tom.’

‘That’s alright, too. Are you a Shapeshifter, Davey?’

‘I don’t think so, Doctor Mati. Is that bad?’

‘Not at all, and never let anyone tell you it is.’ He ruffled the boy’s hair. ‘Come on, it’s getting dark now, back inside.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Davey took his hand, and they went back to the house together.

Inside, they found the family at different pursuits. Lyssa and Marah, Robert’s wife, were busy with supper to account for their guests while the children were scattered about, playing games, reading, or writing. In one corner, Aubrey and Nisbet were busy with something, and Robert and Thomas were watching the whole affair. It was natural and peaceful, and it felt the way a home should.

The evening was quiet, but it was quiet Stephen didn’t mind. It was the quiet he had gotten used to at sea. The moments when there was no concern of storms or combat, everything on the ship was taken care of, and nothing demanded time or effort. After supper, Aubrey offered to play a bit for everyone, an offer happily accepted. Stephen had enjoyed quite a few evenings of Aubrey’s gift for music since giving him the violin, which Aubrey had affectionately named Palermo Maria. Still, it was rare the lad shared his talents with anyone else.

After a while, Aubrey surprised everyone by calling over Tom and handing the violin to him. It turned out that, behind everyone’s backs and without a word to the rest of them, Aubrey had been teaching Tom how to play.

‘Your son is a gifted boy, Thomas.’ Stephen whispered, watching as Tom played with complete focus.

‘Always has been, Doctor. Heart of gold, he’s got. And no fear at all.’

‘Which has served him well with us.’ He shook his head, ‘I made you a promise, Pullings, and I’ll keep it. I’ll keep your boy safe best as I can.’

‘More than I have the right to ask for.’ Thomas Pullings looked at him openly, earnestly.

These were honest, hard-working people who had done their best to instil the same ethics in their children and were being asked to put an enormous amount of blind faith into a system that may not be able to deliver. It was up to Stephen and the likes of his lieutenants to make sure that system held up and look after those who needed it. Strange how he thought of them as his lieutenants.

‘Of course, they’re your lieutenants, Maturin.’ Marah Pullings murmured, knowing exactly what thoughts were going through his mind, ‘And believe you me, son, everyone who matters knows it. May not like it, but they know it.’

‘Am I that obvious?’

‘Only to those who know how to read a man’s intent.’ The old woman just smiled and kept at her work.

She was building a gorgeous quilt from scraps of brightly coloured and patterned cloth; it was something she had been working on nearly the entire time Stephen and the others had been in the house when she wasn’t busy in the kitchen. It promised to be a beautiful work of art and love, he was only sorry he wouldn’t get to see it finished.

When the fire had died to embers, the youngest had already fallen asleep and a few minutes were spent rounding up the children. Stephen didn’t bother waking Tom or Rachel, who had both curled up on his lap at some point and slept well.

‘Oh, you can’t move, can you?’ Aubrey whispered, seeing the problem right away. Stephen chuckled, shaking his head.

‘I’m afraid not. And it’s not even these two I’m worried about disturbing.’ He said quietly.

Rachel had fallen asleep on his lap, and Tom had migrated to sleep on his shoulder. It wasn’t the first time the lad had slept there; he sometimes did it if Stephen was up late in the dispensary or his quarters with a book. But what made it difficult to move was the fact that Davey Pullings had fallen asleep sitting up against Stephen’s legs. And he couldn’t stand up without waking the lad.

Shaking his head, Aubrey carefully leaned down and scooped Davey into his arms. The lad stirred, disturbed by the motion, and blinked sleepily at them.

‘It’s time for you to be in your own bed, young sir.’ Aubrey said firmly, holding Davey comfortably, ‘You absolutely cannot sleep on the floor.’

‘Oh. Can’t sleep with you?’

‘I’m afraid not, lad.’ Aubrey smiled, ‘Come along, you.’

‘You know he won’t listen.’ Stephen whispered as he got up, careful about his slumbering furry burdens. Neither of them really stirred, and he found his way back upstairs. All he got from Aubrey was a shrug.

The rest of the night was peaceful, only disturbed by the door of the room he shared with his travel companions creaking open somewhere around two in the morning. And he only knew what time it was by an annoyingly accurate internal clock fully adjusted to the watch schedules of the Royal Navy.

‘Settle, both of you.’ He whispered to the dark shapes creeping along. ‘We have to be up before dawn.’

‘Okay.’ Davey said quietly, climbing into bed next to Aubrey, who didn’t stir beyond making a bit of room for the presence he suddenly was aware of. Stephen only had to worry about Rachel, who couldn’t make the transition by herself. Once she was settled beside him, one hand tight in a fold of his shirt, it wasn’t long to fall asleep again.

Three hours later, Stephen and the others were awake and collecting whatever they’d brought with them. The sky was barely turning grey in the east, but they had a long ride ahead to reach Portsmouth. And no doubt, when they got to Portsmouth, it would be straight to the harbour and onto their commission. If he knew Nelson, and he did know Nelson, the man would want to be underway with the first tides. He wasn’t sure what kind of trouble Napoleon was brewing, he hadn’t had a chance to read any of the last reports he’d gotten from Blaine, but it was trouble enough to worry the Admiralty into action.

‘All of you be careful.’ Robert Pullings said grimly as they mounted their horses in the dark courtyard, ‘I’ve Seen things I don’t like.’

‘We’ll do our best.’ Stephen promised, double-checking his saddle bag for any small, furry stowaways. No sign of her, thankfully.

‘I’m not in there!’ Rachel said smartly, ‘Wouldn’t fit there!’

‘Not the way you are, darling.’ Stephen smiled and leaned down, ‘But I have to make sure you don’t try following me. Maybe another time, but you have to stay home this time.’

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s too dangerous.’ He took the girl from her mother, ‘If I knew this was an easy one, we weren’t going into Gods know what trouble, I wouldn’t blink. I’d ask your mother’s blessings and take you in a heartbeat.’

‘She gets her wanderlust from Tom, I’m afraid.’ Lyssa shook her head as Rachel threw her arms tight around Stephen, ‘But would you truly take her with you?’

‘If she asked? And you gave your blessing? In a heartbeat.’ He sighed, ‘You’ve given me one of your children already, that’s more than the Navy deserves to ask of you.’

‘Good luck, Doctor. Ancients bless your company.’ Marah took his hand, her eyes bird-bright and sharp.

‘Thank you, Mother.’ He said, touching his forehead.

‘It’s not my scoundrel grandson or your lieutenants I’ll pray for, they have their places in here.’ A touch to her bosom, ‘It’s that rascal admiral you’re following this time. He’s the one to worry after.’

‘And Gods know I’ll do enough of that between here and Cadiz.’

‘I say it again, you are a good man, Stephen Maturin. We’re lucky folk to know you like family.’

‘I think I’m the lucky one.’ He smiled and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Pray for us all, Mother.’

‘I will.’ She gave him a knowing smile and winked.

Chapter Text

Leaving Foxtail Farm was difficult, but Stephen knew that he would come back. The road from Farnham to Portsmouth was blessedly untroubled, and they arrived on the docks as the sun began to touch the horizon.

‘What are we looking for?’ Aubrey whispered.

‘The Vanguard.’ He couldn’t see the third rate from here, but he suspected that looking for Nelson’s flag would be a good indicator if they were up on the rigging. It was still too dark in the harbour to make much of the forest of masts, so he thought to ask. The harbour masters were glad to assist and informed them that word had been left with them by the Vanguard’s captain to have them sent across right away. Their luggage, delivered the night before while they had stayed at Foxtail Farm, had already been taken aboard.

‘Hmm. Someone knows we’re coming and decided not to waste any time.’ Stephen narrowed his eyes, ‘We’ll be on our way then.’

The harbour master had a boat readied to take them out, and wished them luck. Going out was quiet, as it should be. The harbour was not still, but their passage was untroubled.

Stephen named each ship to himself as they slid past: Pegasus, Bellerophon, Surprise, Icarus, Theseus, Mneme, Hyperion, Albany. Finally, they came upon the Vanguard, and he heard the boatman’s whistle. A responding call came from the Vanguard.

‘Who goes?’

‘Last of the crew for the Vanguard, sirs!’

‘Send ‘em up!’

‘Well, sir!’ The boatman saluted and they held the boat alongside for Stephen and the other three to climb.

‘Need a hand, sir?’

‘No, thank you. I can climb a ladder alright.’ Stephen looked up and sighed. ‘You up first, Jack. We’ll be behind.’

‘Right, that.’ Aubrey grinned at him and climbed quickly.

Stephen sent Nisbet up next, then went up himself.

‘Come on, Tom.’ He looked over his shoulder at Pullings, ‘They’re waiting.’

‘Aye, sir.’ Tom nodded, waiting for him to get up high enough to start his own climb.

At the top of the ladder, he took Aubrey’s hand.

‘Getting better at it every time, old man.’

‘Say that like you mean it, and see if it stands.’ He rolled his eyes at the lad’s cheek, ‘How’s that for respect, then?’

‘You don’t let them get away with talking to you like that, do you, Doctor?’

‘Ah! Good morning, Ed!’ He smiled as the other helpful hand tightened. ‘So, you’re the unlucky soul this time.’

‘Flipped a coin with Miller, actually.’ Edward Berry shrugged, as if it made no difference to him either way.

‘I can’t say I’m too sorry for my brother-in-law.’ He chuckled, ‘Where is he?’

‘Below, probably sleeping still. I envy men like that.’

‘He can’t sleep through anything, no matter what they’ll tell you.’ Stephen chuckled. ‘Any idea where we’re off for this time?’

‘Spain, for a start. Rumblings out of the Med are coming that Napoleon’s planning an advance through Egypt to seize Asia and the southern Mediterranean coast.’ Berry looked up at the still-dim sky, ‘Could be there already, for what we know of anything.’

‘And it’s going to be up to us to stop him if he’s there.’ Stephen sighed, ‘Damn.’

A rustling on the ladder was Tom, and he went to give the lad a hand up.

‘There you are, Tom, my lad.’

‘I heard you talking. Are we really going to Egypt?’

‘That’s to be seen.’ He chuckled, ‘You’ve got the ears of your Familiar, son.’

‘Of course I do!’ Tom looked insulted that Stephen would dare to think otherwise. But he grew solemn quick enough, ‘Is it going to be as bad as they say, sir?’

‘That remains to be seen, Tom. And no sense worrying about it until we’ve got a reason to.’ He ruffled the boy’s hair, ‘Just mind your manners, Tom Pullings.’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘Good morning, gentlemen.’

‘Good morning, sir!’ Berry and the nearby crew were the only ones caught off-guard by the appearance of Nelson on the deck.

Stephen maintained a hard-won silence, though the boys did not.

‘You can stifle that smile of yours, Doctor Maturin.’

‘My apologies, Admiral.’ He didn’t do a very good job following orders.

‘I’ll deal with your insubordination later. In the meantime, I see you found both of the lieutenants.’

‘Aye, sir. They found me, if the truth be known.’ He looked at Aubrey and Nisbet. ‘It was simple to talk them into coming.’

‘Did your housekeeper have anything to do with it?’

‘Only with making sure the boys were fit to report for duty.’ Stephen remembered too clearly the fuss Mrs Hudson had made about the boys daring to set foot beyond the house in anything but their uniforms.

‘I get the feeling she had reporting uniforms set aside just for the occasion, though Gods know where she got hold of them.’

‘A woman with her resources, it wouldn’t be difficult.’ Nelson grinned, peering around Stephen to find Tom, who was doing his best not to run behind Aubrey. ‘Who’s your timid third, then?’

‘Come here, Tom.’ Stephen turned, holding out one hand to Tom, ‘This young fellow is Thomas Pullings. You might have heard Captain Ferguson speaking of him, he was with us aboard the Surprise last year in Italy.’

‘Ah, you’re the one!’

‘Yes, sir.’ Tom said bravely.

Around them, the ship was slowly coming to life with the change of watch and the crew prepared the Vanguard to get underway.

‘Mister Pullings.’

‘Yes, sir?’

‘What do you know of raising colours?’

‘I know how to, sir. Captain Ferguson’s lieutenants, uh, Lieutenant Aubrey, showed me how, sir. I can raise them, sir, if I need to.’

‘Do you know how to raise an admiral’s colours, lad?’

‘I can do that, for you, sir! Tom’s eyes widened, ‘Can I do that, sir?’

‘Run up our colours, lad, we’re off for the Mediterranean.’

‘Aye, sir!’

‘Come on, Tom, I’ll show you the flag-lockers.’ Aubrey beckoned to Tom, who hurried after him like an excited puppy.

Once they were out of sight, Stephen levelled his friend with a sly look.

‘You clever bastard.’ He muttered. ‘If you wanted to win the lad’s affections.’

‘He seems an industrious, capable lad. How on earth did you find him?’

‘That’s a bit of a tale, Horatio.’ He chuckled, ‘And one I’m not sure you’d believe.’

‘A bit of trouble, eh?’

‘Just a little. And nothing we weren’t capable of handling.’ He promised.

‘Good. Anything to recommend him?’

‘Oh, plenty.’

‘Come tell me what you know of my newest Ship’s Boy.’

‘Gladly!’ He followed Nelson up to the Quarterdeck, where they took the windward rail for themselves while the rest of the crew got the ship underway.

‘Baltar!’ Nelson called to a nearby mate, ‘Coffee, if you please.’

‘Sir.’ The African bobbed his head and disappeared. Stephen recalled Baltar being part of Nelson’s company as far back as his first encounter with Nelson last year with the Channel Fleet that had come to the site of the Ouragan’s wreck.

‘I see you retained Baltar’s service.’

‘Aye, he followed willingly enough. I’ve got another one, a young lad by the name of George Ryan, and his little brother, Hector. Just about young Pullings’ age, in fact.’

‘Oh?’

‘Mm.’

‘Another run-away?’

‘Aye. And willingly taken on. Baltar looks after him for me.’

‘Good.’

Stephen heard a bit of a commotion behind and looked over his shoulder to see Tom come hurrying up the stairs, arms full of flag-silk. The other end was being carried by a young African fellow just a year or two older, and behind them was Aubrey, wearing the eternally patient smile of a put-upon older sibling.

‘Is that him?’

‘Aye, looks like he’s met your boys.’

‘They seem to get along alright.’ He watched the boys bicker over who got to do what part of raising the admiral’s flag.

Aubrey put an end to it by informing the boys that whoever did one part this time would get to do the other the next. This was by no means the last time they’d be raising the Vanguard’s colours. In fact, if they worked together nicely, they might get to do it every time they raised a flag on the ship.

‘He may not have siblings, but he certainly knows how to handle the youngsters.’ Nelson whispered as Baltar returned.

‘Bless ‘im, he’s going to have his hands full with those two.’ Stephen chuckled, ‘Oh, thank you very much, Baltar.’

‘Sah. Happy to have you back.’ The man said mildly, smiling as he offered Stephen the first cup.

‘I am happy to be back, Baltar.’

‘Want me to look after that boy of yous?’

‘Please, Baltar, I’d be grateful. Lords know he needs some looking after.’ Stephen watched the boys finally get the flag up and listened as orders were passed to get underway. The sooner they got to Cadiz, the sooner they could figure out exactly what kind of trouble Napoleon was causing and stop it.

‘I haven’t had a chance to get below-decks, who else did you find for my part of it?’

‘A few familiar faces surfaced. I didn’t bother asking for any of them, but you’ll have good company. We found a civilian who was willing to join the cause, said you’d inspired ‘im.’

‘I know a few good civilian surgeons. Where’d they come from?’

‘Your old residence, Westeray and Calenfell.’

‘Oh, no!’ Stephen covered his mouth. ‘Which one of them did you get? Whitlock?’

‘Both, in fact. Whitlock and Hamilton.’

‘Oh, thank God.’ Stephen would never admit to the blatant relief he felt. He’d spent almost a year working alongside David Whitlock and Gregory Hamilton and would happily vouch for either of them if he was called upon to do so.

‘So, you may not have much to do down there.’

‘Somehow, I doubt you would mind much.’ He rolled his eyes and watched Hector Ryan coax Tom away to some other pursuit now that the colours had been properly raised.

‘Doctor Maturin!’ Tom came running, Hector in close tow.

‘Well done, lads.’ He chuckled, ‘Who’s your friend, Tom?’

‘This is Hector Ryan, sir.’

‘Is Lieutenant Aubrey looking after you?’

‘Him and…the Steward’s Mate, sir.’

‘If he asks you to do something, boys, you do it right away.’ Stephen said firmly.

‘Yessir.’ The boys looked at each other, and Stephen noticed something about Hector.

‘Ah, Hector. Look at me, lad?’ He held out one hand. Hector obediently looked up at him and he whistled softly. ‘Oh, look at your eyes, son! What’s your Familiar look like?’

‘You know Shapeshifters, sir?’

‘I’m one of them myself, lad.’ He smiled, ‘I wonder what yours looks like, he must be a sight.’

‘My brother’s is bigger, sir.’

‘I have no doubt!’

‘Mine’s a panther, sir.’

‘Oh, of course you are!’ Stephen chuckled.

‘Not very big, sir.’

‘You’re still very young. As you get older, your Familiar will grow with you. And you’ll be able to choose your Other Form beyond your Familiar someday.’

‘You can do that?’

‘Aye, lads. Not at your stage, you’re too young.’ He stood the boys next to each other, ‘Stay together, boys, and stay out of trouble.’

‘Yes, Doctor Maturin.’ Tom said mildly, ‘Can we go, now?’

‘Off with you both.’ He dismissed the unlikely, mismatched pair and crossed his fingers that Tom had just made a friend his own age for once.

‘You handled that well.’

‘I’ve been looking after Tom Pullings for a year, Horatio. In that time, the boy’s never had a friend his own age.’ He shook his head, ‘He follows Aubrey around like a damn puppy, but it’s not fair if his only friends are older than him by that many years. Aubrey never minds, of course, and Nisbet’s just as good with him, but I can be forgiven for hoping this lasts more than a few months.’

‘You owe me that story, don’t you?’

‘I’ll be glad to tell you the whole of it.’ He looked down the length of the decks, ‘I’d very much like a look around if that’s alright with you?’

‘You’re welcome to. I’ll find you later.’

‘Very well.’ He walked away, knowing damn well Nelson watched until he was out of sight.

‘Damn that man.’ He muttered, ‘Too good at what he does and knows it.’

‘Well, that’s a look. A little early for that kind of bad mood, isn’t it?’

‘The good or bad of my mood is up for debate, Whitlock.’ He looked to his left as he stepped into the empty, quiet sickbay area, ‘How did you get mixed up with this?’

‘The same way you did, just without the violence.’ David Whitlock grinned at him, ‘No one seemed to mind when we came asking, neither.’

‘They wouldn’t, most of the staff have very little formal training. If any.’

‘Is that him, David?’

‘Good morning, Gregory.’ Stephen looked past Whitlock to Hamilton, ‘I see you’ve made yourselves at home.’

‘We can run this end of the business if you’ve got other things need doing.’ Hamilton said as Stephen did a walk-through.

‘Having you two is going to be a godsend, I think.’ He rested against the cross-beam, tall enough to do so. ‘I’ll be down here when I need to be, but I suspect most of my time will be spent above-decks with the officers.’

‘Where you belong, sir.’ Whitlock and Hamilton looked at each other.

Stephen chuckled and knew that was true. 

‘If you’ve everything under control here, gentlemen, I won’t get in your way.’ He knew when he was not needed, and his old associates seemed to have things well in hand, so there wasn’t a reason for him to stay.

‘You’ll know if something comes up, Stephen.’ Whitlock promised, waving him off as Hamilton gave an order to a lingering seaman.

Stephen nodded and went up again, finding his quarters to unpack his things. Someone had gone to the trouble of doing it for him, he strongly suspected Tom and perhaps Hector. Everything was carefully unpacked and laid out in the proper places. Trading his travel clothes for a fresh uniform took very little time, but he felt a sense of rightness as he smoothed the blue sleeve.

For the past year, he’d carried a warrant and the right to a warrant officer’s uniform. He’d eaten and slept with the other officers of the ship he was stationed on, often at the captain’s table. He always seemed to be among friends or family, often both at once. Someday, that would change; it didn’t seem to be any time in the immediate future he could see.

Taking a book from the little collection he travelled with, he went back to the upper decks to see how far they’d gotten. Far enough the coast was a distant smudge of brown and green now against the growing span of ocean between him and England.

‘Good morning, Doctor!’ One of the midshipmen called out.

‘Good morning, sir.’ He returned the lad’s greeting, thinking he looked vaguely familiar.

As he settled with his book at the taffrail, well out of the way of any comings and goings, he suspected he wouldn’t be alone very long. It wouldn’t surprise him at all if he encountered some former shipmates of his on the Vanguard, or elsewhere while he was keeping company with Nelson again.

Sure enough, it hadn’t been ten minutes before he was aware of company. Familiar company.

‘May I join you, sir?’

‘Ah! Mister Peterson?’ He looked up at the boy he’d befriended last year during the incident with the Channel Fleet and the Ouragan. ‘That was you, wasn’t it?’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘You’re a bit taller from last time, aren’t you?’ He set his book down and got to his feet, ‘Not much, but a bit.’

‘Not as tall as Lieutenant Aubrey, sir.’

‘Not yet, you aren’t.’ Stephen held out one hand to the lad, remembering his kindness while they’d been on the Theseus, ‘It’s good to see you again, lad.’

‘It’s very good to have you back, sir. Are you going to stay this time?’

‘As long as this next mission takes us, at least.’ He saw signs of growth and maturity in the boy, but there was plenty of the baby-faced child left.

‘Y’know, I thought my cousin would stow away to come after me when I left yesterday?’

‘You’ve a cousin?’

‘He’s six, and wants so bad to be like me.’ Peterson shrugged, sitting down with Stephen when he offered the lad the spot next to him, ‘His name is Peter.’

‘How old are you, son? I’m not sure if you ever said or if I asked.’

‘I’m fourteen, sir.’

‘I wasn’t far off, then.’ He smiled, ‘So, tell me of your sneaky little cousin Peter.’

‘Well, it’s not just me he wants after, sir. My uncle’s in the Royal Navy, too; he’s one of the captains, and so’s my father.’

‘I guessed it was a family history for you, Mister Peterson.’

‘My father is Robert Peterson, sir. If you’ve met him before?’

‘I don’t believe I have, but I haven’t met a great many people I should know.’ Stephen shrugged, ‘So, there’s family history and your little cousin wants part of it?’

‘Yes, sir, I’m afraid he does. And if he doesn’t try to go after me, he might try after Captain Calamy or Captain Peterson. And that would be a bit of trouble.’

‘The very young are always the first into trouble. Believe me.’ He thought of little Rachel Pullings, and eager Davey, how desperate they had been to spend time with him or show him something.

‘You don’t have children, sir?’

‘No, I’ve never married, I’m afraid. But my sister has two daughters, and I seem to attract a following of youngsters everywhere I go.’

‘That young fellow there with Hector?’ Peterson pointed to where Tom and Hector were daring each other to climb the mainmast, watched by Aubrey and Baltar.

‘That’s Tom Pullings, he’s one of Aubrey’s.’

‘Another one?’

‘He didn’t get that from me, son.’

‘Huh.’

It was only quiet a while longer, and the disturbance was…not unusual but unexpected.

‘Doctor Maturin!’

‘Oh, that’s the Master, Mister Harding.’ Peterson whispered. ‘He sounds angry.’

‘Is he ever not?’ Stephen had encountered Paul Harding before, and thought little of the man’s character.

‘You know ‘im, sir?’

‘In passing, I’d never say we were even friends.’ He got up and went to the break-rail, where he found Harding and a couple of Royal Marines. ‘What is it, Mister Harding?’

‘We’ve got a trespasser, sir! Found him sneaking around by your berth!’ The man looked fit to an outrage, ‘Ay, none of that, you! You two, hold ‘im fast!’

‘Oh, no.’ He didn’t recognize the little boy squirming between the marines, who were having a bit of a time holding him still.

‘Ay! You!’

‘Peterson! Aubrey!’ He shouted, in the split second he had to react before the youngster disappeared, replaced with a small, skittish creature. He couldn’t tell from here and knew they’d gotten another Chimera.

‘What happened?’

‘Jack! Heads up, he’s coming your way!’ Stephen shouted down the deck towards Aubrey, who turned but was too late to catch the frantic escapee.

‘Is that…oh, Peter!’ Peterson caught sight of the little thing and covered his eyes with a hand, ‘Oh, no! He did follow me out! Damn it!’

‘Come on.’ Stephen grabbed the lad by the hand and headed down to try and mitigate the situation before it got too bad and little Peter ended up getting caught overboard.

‘Oh, he got away from us! Get ‘im, lads! Get ‘im!’ Harding bellowed.

‘He’ll scare the lad right off the ship at this rate!’ Stephen huffed, ‘Tom! Hector! I need you!’

‘Sir! What’s happened?’ the boys were there in a heartbeat.

‘I need you two to find that boy. He’s one of us. Find him, before Harding’s lot do. Familiars for this, you’ll move faster. Aubrey, you go, too!’

‘Aye, sir!’ Aubrey saluted and took the boys, ‘You two, split up! Who is it, Doctor?’

‘Mister Peterson’s cousin decided to run away from home.’

‘One in every family, isn’t there?’ Aubrey looked amused and irritated, but not with little Peter Calamy.

‘I don’t suppose you’re one of us, are you, Mister Peterson?’

‘Aye, sir. He knows my Familiar, should I go with them?’

‘Go with Aubrey. I’ll get below and try to keep him from getting into anything he shouldn’t.’ He sent Peterson off and watched four Familiars take off across the ship in pairs.

The crew predictably scattered, and while they tried to corral the frantic youngster, Stephen went to explain the situation to a very confused Edward Berry.

‘What is happening down there, Maturin?’

‘Well, we picked up a stray. Not quite a stray, a stowaway. Mister Peterson’s little cousin decided it was a good idea to run away and join the Royal Navy.’ He sighed, ‘It could have been worse, at least he followed Peterson instead of Captain Peterson or Captain Calamy. That would have taken him to the Atalante or the Fencer.’

‘Oh, no.’ Berry looked horrified, ‘And you know if Harding catches him!’

‘I know exactly what will happen if Harding gets hold of him first. That’s why I’ve got four of our Chimeras trying to wrangle him.’

‘That was a smart thing you did. Who did you set after him?’

‘Peterson, Pullings, Aubrey, and Hector. They’re four of the registered Chimeras on this ship, I know we have more.’

‘That’ll be marked in the lists.’

‘Aye, and I’ll be looking at those when I have a chance.’

‘Go, they’re going to need a hand soon.’ Berry sent him off, and he hurried below-decks to try and get eyes on little Calamy.

Chapter Text

The crew was very aware of the situation, and several men pointed him towards the great cabins. He cleared Berry’s quarters first, but there was no sign of the boy anywhere. A check with the others came up empty, and asking his mates was a dead end as well.

‘There can’t be that many places on a ship this size for a frightened Chimera Familiar to hide! And we’ve gone over most of the obvious ones!’ He stood outside the quarters assigned to Nelson, the one place they hadn’t checked.

The list of possible hiding places was shrinking, and Stephen sincerely hoped to find Calamy before he had to bother Nelson about the problem. Not that the man could possibly be ignorant of it, they’d already been looking for half an hour by now! He had men from every division looking for the boy, he had a good description of what he looked like out of Shift, and a bit of what to look for if they were going to find a Familiar.

‘You might have to get Nelson involved.’ Aubrey huffed, sitting at his feet in Familiar Form.

‘We can’t find him, sir! We’ve looked everywhere!’ Hector called, running up with Tom on his heels. They made such an unusual pair, but they were almost perfectly matched.

‘That’s alright, lads. There’s only a few places left, I’ll handle the important one. The rest of you, get back to your stations.’ He looked at the lingering hunters, ‘We’ll find Peter Calamy and ensure his safety and continued place with our company.’

‘Aye, sir.’ The men saluted and ambled off, whispering to each other as they compared notes on where to look, where they’d checked and double-checked and checked again just for good measure.

‘Would you three care to join me?’ He looked at his friends.

‘Are we allowed to, sir?’

‘Yes, you are, Hector.’ Stephen smiled at Hector, who was the size and colour of a black panther cub. ‘Come along, lads.’

‘Sir.’

‘Has there been any activity from inside, Hawkins?’ Stephen asked of the young Marine sentry standing outside of Nelson’s quarters.

‘No, sir. Not since the last hunt came through.’ The lad shook his head quickly, ‘Haven’t heard anything from inside, and no one’s bothered ‘im.’

‘Good. But we need to make sure he’s aware of this before Harding gets to him.’

‘Haven’t seen Mister Harding yet, sir. Have heard him, though.’ The lad grimaced, ‘Near all of us have.’

‘And, I don’t suppose you’ve seen a small Chimera Familiar come through, either?’

‘I did see somethin’, sir, somethin’ small. Couldn’t be sure what it was, and it disappeared before I got a good look.’

‘So, he did come down here.’ Stephen sighed and braved knocking on the door.

‘Come!’

‘He doesn’t sound angry.’ Aubrey murmured as Stephen pushed the door open and carefully went inside.

Instinct had him scanning the immediate surround at the door for any potential escapee looking for that brief opening to get out again.

‘Close the door behind you, Maturin.’

‘Sir.’

‘Have you called off the hunt?’

‘I may not have a choice, sir.’ He made sure the door was closed behind Tom and Hector, ‘I’ve had most of the crew looking, sir.’

‘And no luck finding the errant Familiar?’

‘None, sir. Glimpses, but we can’t catch him.’ He found Nelson in the day cabin and very quickly found out why they hadn’t found Calamy since he’d made a run for it the first time.

‘Ooh.’ Tom breathed, ‘I think we found ‘im, Doctor!’

‘I think we did, Tom. Would one of you mind telling Mister Peterson we’ve found his cousin?’

‘Come on, Hector. Let’s find Mister Peterson.’ Tom looked at Hector, and Stephen held the door for them to go out.

‘Well, no wonder we didn’t find him!’ Stephen carefully approached his friend, who sat at the desk, scattered with reports and ink-wells and empty cups, but wasn’t currently doing anything. ‘He’s…smaller than I expected.’

‘And dreadfully frightened. That clot Harding nearly did more harm than good.’

‘If he’s biased against Chimeras, this was a terrible time for it to come up. And worse if he’s got it out for stow-aways.’ He carefully went around the desk and crouched by the chair, looking at the small furry creature shaking in Nelson’s arms. ‘Peter?’

‘W-who are you?’

‘My name is Stephen. I’m your cousin’s friend, we met last year.’

‘Oh, he talked about you.’ Calamy uncurled a bit from his huddle, blinking wide, round eyes at Stephen. Green and brown, the same type of heterochromia iridum as nearly every other Chimera Stephen had met.

‘It’s alright now, Peter. You’re safe.’ He held out one hand, ‘And I promise you, if Mister Harding tries to make any kind of trouble for you, it won’t get very far.’

‘Can you do that, sir?’

‘If I can’t, he certainly can.’ Stephen looked up at Nelson, who carefully released his hold on Calamy to let Stephen take him, ‘And I’m afraid he wouldn’t be very kind about it.’

To his credit, in spite of the traumatic incident that had led them to this moment, Calamy had no trouble trusting Stephen. He found himself cradling Calamy in one arm, quietly singing an old lullaby he’d learned ages ago.

‘I didn’t know you could sing.’

‘It never came up.’ He looked up at Nelson and smiled. ‘It’s something my grandmother used to sing when Leah and I had trouble sleeping. It always seems to work best on frightened youngsters.’

‘I hear Harding.’ Aubrey rumbled, getting up to face the door, which banged open a moment later. Stephen was on his feet by the time the Master appeared.

‘Admiral!’ Harding rushed in, followed by a few of his mates.

‘No need to shout the rafters down, Harding.’ Nelson said calmly.

‘Oh, don’t let him hurt me! Don’t let him find me!’ Calamy squeaked, diving into hiding under Stephen’s collar.

‘Ay, easy, lad.’ He said gently, pulling on the fabric to let him get comfortable, ‘Be still.’

Aubrey, who didn’t like Harding anyway, smoothly got in Harding’s way. Predictably, Harding came to a hard halt finding his way forward blocked by a lion.

‘Let him say his piece, we know the truth.’ Nelson said, speaking to Aubrey.

‘You’re lucky I have more respect for Nelson than some, Mister Harding.’ Aubrey said calmly as he stepped aside, ‘Or I wouldn’t waste a moment to tear you limb from limb.’

‘Now, Harding, what’s your grievance?’ Nelson asked, his tone harsh as he redirected Harding’s focus back to the matter at hand.

‘Sir, there’s a trespasser on this ship!’ Harding said, recovering his wits and his indignation rather quickly. ‘We can’t find ‘im, but I know he’s here!’

‘And how do you know this?’

‘Caught the little ingrate sneaking around outside the doctor’s quarters, sir.’ Harding looked at Stephen, ‘But before we could do anything about it, the slippery bastard disappeared on us! Must be a Shapeshifter the way he just…whsht.’

‘Mister Harding, lest you forget, sir, there are several Shapeshifters on this ship.’ Nelson levelled Harding with a cold glare, ‘Valued members of my crew, no less. And you should certainly know better than to speak against any of them.’

‘But, sir! With all due respect, they could be sheltering the brat!’

‘Oh, don’t let him take me!’ Calamy shuddered against the back of Stephen’s neck.

‘Hush, little one. It’s alright. He won’t lay a hand on you.’ Stephen said calmly.

‘Mister Harding, what difference would it make to the untroubled running of the Vanguard if I was sheltering the stowaway? Or Lieutenant Aubrey? Or Mister Peterson? Or Captain Berry, for that matter?’ He questioned Harding, ‘I know what you think of Chimeras, Mister Harding, but I should certainly hope that you would know better than to make it such a public sentiment when it is not a popular one. And yes, I know what you think of me.’

‘Oh, don’t be a saint, Maturin! We all know who you answer to!’ Harding spat, glaring at him.

‘Tread lightly, Mister Harding.’ Nelson rumbled, ‘I may just allow Lieutenant Aubrey to carry out some of his promised savagery.’

‘Sir!’

‘Get on with it, Harding!’

‘Sir, there is a person aboard the Vanguard who, I am absolutely certain, is not a registered member of our crew and therefore had no place with us.’

‘Do you know this individual’s name, Mister Harding?’

‘No, sir, I do not. But I suspect someone else among our officers does.’

‘What makes you say that?’

‘Sir, I found him hiding in the starboard midshipmen’s berth, sir. I believe that’s where David Peterson berths, sir.’

‘Do you have any proof this stowaway is a relation of Mister Peterson’s? Without involving the lad, who is busy at his assigned duties.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And yet, you admit you don’t know his name?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Doctor Maturin.’

‘Admiral?’ Stephen looked over at Nelson, made eye-contact.

‘Has Mister Peterson spoken to you of his family?’

‘As recently as this morning, sir. About half an hour before the incident that set us hunting for a frightened stowaway.’

‘And what, exactly, did Mister Peterson say on the matter?’

‘He spoke of his concerns for his cousin, a young Mister Peter Calamy. The lad’s apparently shown an interest in the Royal Navy, despite his young age, and there was consideration for where he’d go if he were…inspired to run away from home.’

‘Which would by no means be the first time such a thing has happened.’

‘No, sir, absolutely not.’ He shook his head, felt the way the tremors in little Calamy seemed to lessen as he spoke. Tiny, sharp claws were dug in to keep the lad still, but it wasn’t bothering Stephen. After all, Calamy had gone into hiding under his coat and was buffered by his shirt.

‘And where else would Mister Peterson’s cousin take refuge if he sought to join the Royal Navy?’

‘He would have gone either to the Atalante, or to the Fencer.’

‘That’s Edward Calamy’s ship!’ Harding sputtered.

‘Aye, and the Fencer is under Thomas Peterson.’ Nelson looked up at Harding with a cold disdain, ‘As with many, the lad has family to follow and could not possibly be held in contempt for acting upon a reasonable desire. Do you happen to know how old the missing Mister Calamy might be, Doctor?’

‘I believe Mister Peterson mentioned that he was five, sir.’

‘And he’s somehow managed to run away and join the Royal Navy?’

‘I believe so, sir.’

‘In which case, his mother must be worried sick.’

‘Naturally.’

‘We will be joining with one or both the Fencer and the Atalante when we reach Spain. It should be fairly simple to make contact with Calamy and Peterson to settle this matter once we get there.’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘In the meantime.’ Nelson picked up a quill and dipped it into the inkpot by his hand, turning the pages on a log-book to a certain page, ‘I can amend one part of this situation. Can you give me the lad’s full Christian name?’

‘My name’s Peter Miles Calamy.’

‘Peter Miles Calamy, Admiral.’                                     

‘Thank you, Doctor Maturin.’ Nelson looked at him and grinned. ‘Let it be put in records that on March the 28^th, 1798, the Youngster Peter Miles Calamy was enlisted with the crew of HMS Vanguard and put under the care of Doctor Stephen Maturin, company head surgeon, as Ship’s Boy.’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘There will be no more made of stowaways and trespassers. And any further hostilities against Mister Calamy or any of the company’s Chimeras will be punished to the extent of the law and the interpretation thereof. Is this understood?’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘Mister Harding?’ Nelson narrowed quicksilver eyes at the Master.

‘Understood, Admiral.’

‘Dismissed.’ Nelson finished making the new entry in the muster book and closed it. The cabin emptied of its numerous occupants until Stephen and Nelson were the only two left.

‘Alright, lad, you can come out now.’ Stephen held a hand over his shoulder. ‘Come along.’

‘Oh, thank you so much, sirs!’  Little Calamy emerged from hiding and crawled from Stephen’s shoulder to his hand, hopping onto his wrist.

‘Now, let’s get a proper look at you, son.’ He let the Familiar down, setting him on a chair. ‘Horatio, could you do me a favour and find a blanket?’

‘Certainly.’ Nelson got up and disappeared into the closed-off bed-place for a moment. It was no time at all before he returned, and Stephen took the blanket he offered.

‘Alright. Time to come back, Mister Calamy.’ He tapped the Familiar on the nose and waited. It wasn’t long before a frightened boy was standing on the chair. Stephen threw the blanket around the lad’s shoulders and lifted him down.

‘There you are, son. Are you alright?’

‘I’m…dizzy, sir?’

‘That’s perfectly normal. Trauma Shifting is a scary experience.’ He rubbed the boy’s shoulders, ‘But don’t you worry a thing, there’s plenty of people around who will be very happy to teach you how to do it safely and whenever you like.’

‘I…didn’t know…I could, sirs.’ The poor lad was almost in tears, and Stephen put both arms around the child. He was so far from home now, terrified and lonely.

‘Most of us don’t, my lad. Most of us have no idea. Are your parents Chimeras?’

‘Mum is. I think Da might be, too.’

‘Good. Come along, and we’ll get you taken care of.’ He lifted the boy into his arms, ‘Are you coming, Horatio?’

‘If you don’t mind.’

‘Not at all. Do you mind, Mister Calamy?’

‘Where are we going?’

‘Down to Sickbay, to see to you. Can my friend come with us?’

‘Oh. I didn’t know you were friends with am..ad..amdrirals.’

‘Admiral is a rather big word for you. Yes, we’re friends.’ Stephen smiled.

Outside, he found his loyal Chimera hunters gathered. This wasn’t too surprising, considering the effort they’d put into finding the lad and keeping him safe.

‘Oh!’ Calamy blinked, surprised to see them.

‘Well, there you are, Peter!’ Peterson shook his head, ‘Where on earth did you find him, Doctor?’

‘Hiding in Nelson’s quarters. Which was no trouble on his part.’

‘I’m sorry, sir.’

‘Don’t apologise to me for your cousin seeking safe haven. I’d rather he felt safe in those quarters than be afraid of them.’ Nelson said grimly, ‘And don’t worry about Mister Harding, he’s been handled. Should he give any of you further trouble, do not hesitate to speak up and bring it to my attention.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Looks were exchanged, but nothing more was said. Nothing more had to be said.

After clearing Peter Calamy as perfectly healthy, just frightened, Stephen sent the boy off with Aubrey, Peterson, and Tom. Naturally, that meant Hector was there as well. It struck him that Tom and Hector, despite having never met before and having next to nothing in common between them, had become hard and fast friends and weren’t keen to leave each other behind for anything.

No one seemed to mind it, and were smart enough to keep it to themselves if they did. After the show they’d gotten with Harding getting torn to shreds by Nelson, it would be professional suicide to speak up against any of the Chimeras without a plausible reason.

‘You owe me a story.’

‘I do owe you a story.’ Stephen chuckled and tossed aside the rag he held in one hand. ‘How much of it would you like to know?’

‘All of it, if you’ll tell me.’ Nelson smiled in that way of his, ‘I’ll sweeten the deal with a promise of wine, if that will help.’

‘Bribes aren’t necessary, but I won’t refuse the offer.’ He shook his head, ‘I’ll have to connect the threads carefully, I’m afraid I’ve begun losing track of them myself.’

‘Then we’ll untangle them together.’ Nelson took him by the hand, ‘Come along, Stephen.’

‘After you.’ He followed Nelson back to the great cabin, wondering again how people saw their relationship and the obvious differences between them.

‘Your greater height does not bother me, Stephen.’

‘Did I say anything?’

‘You get this look to you when you’re thinking about it. I’ve spent enough time with you to know at least that.’

‘You see more than people think you do, but you keep that to yourself, don’t you?’

‘Why share all of my knowledge or secrets? Besides, there’s still plenty about you I haven’t figured yet.’

‘I doubt that. You have a better read on me than any of my more intimate acquaintances. Even my own sister doesn’t know half of what you’ve learned.’

‘And we haven’t seen each other in almost a year.’ Nelson held the door of the cabin for him.

‘Aye, and I’m sorry for that.’

‘Don’t be, we’ve been acceptably busy with our own duties to the Royal Navy.’

‘You know, if someone had asked me eighteen months ago what I thought I might do with my life, I certainly wouldn’t have predicted this.’

He shuffled the various papers on Nelson’s desk, organising them better so there was less chaos. He reorganised the Vanguard’s books and papers, knowing that they would go from Nelson’s desk to Berry’s desk for consideration. There was the muster-book, slop-book, tickets, sick-book (part of his obligations, as it were), complete-book, gunner’s, bosun’s and carpenter’s expenses, supplies and returns, general account of provisions received and returned, and quarterly account of same, together with certificates of the quantity of spirits, wine, cocoa and tea issued, to say nothing of the log, letter and order books.

This was not Stephen’s first direct, fully responsible acquaintance with book-keeping, but he did not much mind it. Even a small vessel needs a wonderful amount of stores. The dear Vanguard was not a small ship, and her stores were considerable: casks of beef, pork and butter all numbered and signed for, puncheons, butts and half-pieces of rum, hard-tack by the ton from Old Weevil, dried soup with the broad arrow upon it, quite apart from the gunner’s powder (mealed, corned and best patent), sponges, worms, matches, priming-irons, wads and shot – bar, chain, case, langrage, grape or plain round – and the countless objects needed (and so very often embezzled) by the bosun – the blocks, the long-tackle, single, double, parrel, quarter-coak, double-coak, flat-side, double thin-coak, single thin-coak, single strap-bound and sister blocks alone made up a whole Lent litany. Here is where Stephen often found himself lost, but he was getting better about the whole business. And at least he didn’t suffer sea-sickness like some unfortunate souls did.

‘You don’t have to manage my papers, I can do that myself.’ Nelson scolded as he worked.

‘I don’t mind, and neither do you.’ He looked up from straightening a stack of dispatches. ‘You’ve been in touch with Blaine again.’

‘You haven’t?’

‘Of course I have!’ He rolled his eyes, seeing familiar letters from his employer, ‘I have my own copies of these letters, you know.’

‘Aye, you do have your own copies. And a damn good thing you do. You’re a valuable asset, Stephen, and a more valuable friend.’

‘You’re kind.’ He closed the muster-book and set the logs in a stack for the proper officers to take them, ‘Should I see about getting these to the proper persons?’

‘Would you mind, dear?’

‘Not at all. They’ll go down to Berry first, I’m afraid. Poor man, I hope you have a half-decent clerk in your numbers or we’ll be in some difficulty.’

‘I’m sure we do, but I’m not the one to ask.’ Nelson shrugged, ‘Get that managed and come back.’

‘I have better things to do than manage a ship’s records, you know.’ Stephen rolled his eyes and picked up a stack of said records. At the door, once again, he found Tom and Hector.

‘Well, are you two lined up for eavesdropping again?’ He asked, grinning at the pair.

‘We waited to see if you might need any help, sir.’ Hector said quietly.

‘In fact, I do need help, lads! These have to go down to Captain Berry’s desk, would you like to help me carry them?’ He hefted his load.

‘Can we, sir?’

‘The rest of it is on Nelson’s desk. Go get it for me.’

‘Yes, sir!’

‘Incoming!’ He called into the cabin as the pair rushed in.

‘Ah, hello again, boys.’

‘Doctor Maturin said he needed our help carrying the books, sir!’

‘And how long were the two of you sitting by the door, then?’

‘I can’t imagine it was more than a quarter of an hour, Horatio.’ He waited outside for the boys, who emerged again with stacks of ship’s records in their hands. ‘Damn loyal, they are.’

‘Not to be underestimated, sir.’

‘Absolutely not.’ He just smiled and headed for Berry’s quarters.

By luck, he was there, and the way his eyes widened at the sight of Stephen with Tom and Hector in tow, all carrying the records, was memorable.

‘Since when did you care about ship’s records, Maturin?’

‘Not often enough beyond the sick-books, but he’s finished with these.’

‘He was at them all last night.’ Berry sighed, ‘Damn. Thank you, boys.’

‘Yes, Captain.’

‘Did I ever ask how you and Nelson got involved, Maturin?’ Berry asked as the boys left.

‘A few years ago, we crossed paths in Whitehall. It ended quietly but not well-remembered. Then, last year, he was stationed with the Channel Fleet around the time the Ouragan was sunk by the French.’ Stephen shrugged, ‘The rest is comfortable history.’

‘You never were very good at minding your own business, were you?’

‘I wouldn’t be here if I had.’ He grinned.

‘And most likely, you’d be miserable in whatever corner of the world you’d gotten stuck into.’ Berry chuckled, ‘Lucky for us, you stuck your neck out.’

‘A risk I would take again if I had to.’ He promised, letting himself out.

Chapter Text

Going back to Nelson’s quarters, he let himself in and made sure to close the door behind him. He didn’t go as far as to lock it, but he certainly thought about it.

‘Other business successfully managed?’

‘For now.’ He took the offered glass, ‘Thank you.’

‘I promised.’

‘Yes, you did.’ He sat down in one of the empty chairs, ‘I owe you a story.’

‘And I am eager to hear that story.’ Nelson smiled, ‘Your little band of strays is growing.’

‘I’m not sure if Aubrey and Nisbet would appreciate being called strays.’ He chuckled, ‘Oh, but the youngsters certainly are.’

‘Start with Pullings. How did you find him?’

‘I didn’t. He found us.’ Stephen narrowed his eyes, ‘He found the Royal Navy, crossed paths with Aubrey, and…well, came to me.’

‘I wonder what inspired the boy.’

‘I have no idea. I suspect it was wanderlust, a desire to see what the world beyond his family’s farm was like.’ Stephen still remembered the frightened runaway, how he’d spent that first night aboard the Surprise and many nights since.

‘His parents are farmers with holdings near Farnham. Good, honest people.’

‘And you got involved how?’

‘Well, it turns out young Mister Pullings had run away from home to join the Royal Navy. Took him three days to reach London, or at least find someone with the Royal Navy.’

‘Which, I assume, would have been Aubrey and my stepson.’

‘You would be correct. I don’t know where they met up or what Pullings said to them, but when I saw Aubrey the night we left for Portsmouth to join the Surprise, he was already with them.’

‘And never left, it seems.’

‘No, he hasn’t left.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘In fact, I’ve moved Aubrey and Pullings into my residence in London. Your stepson keeps his own rooms, but he’s a frequent caller. My landlord had no issue with the arrangements, and my housekeeper already sees more of the boys than the rest of us.’

‘That woman might be the only reason any of us remember to eat, sleep, or take five minutes to ourselves on any given day.’ Nelson smiled, ‘Did she have anything to do with the reporting uniforms for the boys?’

‘Absolutely. I had no say in it, I never brought it up to her, and she stopped asking questions or permission four months ago. Her only request was that we write letters to her, which is no burden to us.’

‘God bless Martha Hudson.’

‘Amen.’ He muttered, knowing it could be far worse than it was.

‘On a completely different matter of business, Fanny was asking about you again.’

‘Oh, for the…’ Stephen nearly upended his glass in a single go. ‘What is her fixation? We’ve never met!’

‘I believe that is the very problem, dear.’ Nelson grinned wolfishly, ‘How long have you been exchanging letters with that woman by now?’

‘Longer than I’d like to think of. She said something this last time, didn’t she?’

‘I’m afraid she did.’

‘And what did you promise her?’ He refilled empty glasses, his at least.

‘If either of us returned from this latest misadventure, I’d see to properly introducing the two of you. It’s no good to make do with letters anymore.’

‘Damn it.’ Stephen muttered. It wasn’t that he was afraid of Frances Nelson, not at all.

‘She wants to meet you properly to offer her condolences and her gratitude.’

‘For what?’

‘Well, you’ve been looking after Josiah for nearly a full year by now, never mind looking after me. If she’d had her way, you’d have had a great deal more to do with each other while we were all in London lately.’

‘Crios.’  

‘She’s absolutely convinced that if you hadn’t been with us in the Canaries, I’d be in far worse condition.’

‘You would be, and you know it, too.’ Stephen rolled his eyes, ‘Reckless, ungrateful bastard.’

‘Ah-ah, I believe that’s your reckless, ungrateful bastard, Doctor Maturin.’

‘Unfortunately.’ He muttered, shaking his head, ‘Someday you’ll get into the kind of trouble I won’t be able to help you out of; I hope you realise that.’

‘Oh, I’m intimately aware of it.’ Nelson’s expression softened, ‘But if yours is the last familiar face I see, it won’t be the worst way to die.’

‘It might just be. I’m not about to leave you to your own devices if I can help it; you get into the worst sort of trouble when I’m not looking.’

‘But I’ve not gotten into any of the sort I need getting out of again.’

‘That is very true. I wish the same could be said for our youngest associates, but they’ll prove the most interesting sort of trouble if left to their own devices.’

He heard a distant commotion, but it was nothing serious.

‘It’s not Harding.’ Nelson muttered.

‘Neither of us would still be sitting here if it was. But perhaps it would be wise to show ourselves and remind him that we are, in fact, aware.’

‘Hmm. I think we could rattle his cage a bit more.’ Nelson set down his empty glass, ‘Give the men something else to worry about for a while?’

‘I suspect Berry and our very capable lieutenants have things neatly in order, but I don’t mind giving them something to worry about.’ He got up, letting Nelson go out ahead of him.

‘Everything alright, Hawkins?’

‘Shipshape, Doctor.’ Hawkins smiled at him.

‘Good lad.’ He patted the boy on the shoulder and followed Nelson up onto the Quarterdeck.

‘You have such a way with people, Stephen.’ Nelson whispered as they took the abandoned windward; the officers on deck had quickly scattered as soon as Nelson appeared. ‘It’s a marvellous thing to watch.’

‘All I do is reach out. I leave it to them to reach back.’ He shrugged and leaned against the rail, looking over at the trails of white and blue below.

‘They trust you, even if they don’t know why they do.’ Nelson joined him, but he didn’t have a ready response. One wasn’t really necessary.

‘Doctor Maturin!’ He heard his name from somewhere behind and above, and looked over his shoulder. That was young Calamy, if he wasn’t mistaken.

‘Up.’ Nelson whispered, focused on something above them, beaming. ‘We’re not quite alone here.’

‘I didn’t think we were.’ He followed Nelson’s focus and saw something small perched in the rigging. Whatever it was, it didn’t stay put and he reacted quickly to catch it.

‘Heads up!’ Hector called down a little too late.

‘Thank you, Mister Ryan!’ Stephen called back, cradling the small marsupial that had more or less dropped on them. ‘Hello, Mister Calamy. Have you made yourself at home, then?’

‘Aye, sir! Mister Ryan and Mister Pullings have been teaching me things.’

‘Oh, have they?’ Nelson shot a look at the pair in question, who at least had the good sense to look sorry. ‘Well, my lad, just be very careful. You’re still terribly young, and this kind of thing takes some getting used to.’

‘I will be careful, sir.’ Calamy promised, settling on Stephen’s shoulder, his tail curling naturally around his neck. Stephen just smiled and let him stay there, he seemed very comfortable.

‘You don’t seem to mind that much.’ Nelson whispered.

‘I don’t mind at all. Better he feel safe to do this than worry about propriety. You’ll be just as likely a target, you know.’

‘And I won’t utter a complaint. Unless someone tries to move the lad, then I may have something to say about it.’

‘Words not to be spoken in civil company.’ Stephen did not pose that as a question.

No one bothered them once Calamy decided it was more fun to sit on Stephen’s shoulder than up in the rigging, and he stayed there until the changing of the watch. At that time, he traded his perch on Stephen’s shoulder for Nelson’s, and Stephen decided it was a good time to make a pass through Sick Bay.  He only left because he knew it was safe to leave Calamy and Nelson together.

It was, of course, quiet and empty. Neither of his senior mates had anything to report beyond standard company complaints they had handled already.

‘How’s it up there? Did you find the boy?’ Whitlock asked quietly.

‘Aye, we found him alright. Holed up in Nelson’s quarters, in fact. Probably the safest place for him, considering Harding was on a damn crusade and out for blood by then.’

‘You had the whole ship looking for the lad! What did Harding expect would happen? Nelson would take his word over yours?’

‘I imagine it was just that.’ Stephen didn’t feel sorry at all for the way that had turned out.

‘Damn bastard, doesn’t give a damn about the human aspect of anything, does he?’

‘I’m afraid we’ll be encountering more men like Harding if we’re engaged to the Royal Navy for any time.’

‘Oh, I ain’t leaving.’ Hamilton chimed in, ‘It’ll take more than one like Harding to give me a bad taste.’

‘Which is why I’m grateful to have you both.’

And really, he was so grateful. A bit sorry that Westeray and Calenfell were apparently without doctors while the three of them were at sea with the Royal Navy, but he’d rather have two capable men he knew and trusted than a team of complete strangers.

‘My brother’s taken over for us while we’re out here with you.’ Hamilton said.

‘I didn’t say anything?’

‘It was an obvious concern of yours.’ Whitlock smiled, ‘But you remember Charlie Hamilton.’

‘Of course, I remember Charlie Hamilton! We went to school together!’

‘Then why were you so concerned?’

‘Because we asked him to take over for two towns.’

‘The citizens of which are already very familiar with him and have no problem going to him while we’re helping you out here.’

‘I wonder how many people actually realise I’m gone or where I went when I left.’

‘More than you’d suspect.’ Whitlock shrugged, passing him a log-book. ‘You weren’t quite a nobody and far from invisible.’

‘I never said I was either.’ Stephen rolled his eyes as he double-checked the entries and marked them properly. ‘And I suppose news would have gotten out quick enough about the mess in the Canary Islands if anyone cares about Naval affairs.’

‘We heard, alright. It was Charlie who prompted us to follow you when it got out that there was work to be done.’

‘I suppose you two figured you were fit for the work to be done, then?’

‘It was us or another pair of strangers, and, well, we figured it would do better for any ship’s company if it weren’t strangers this time.’

‘Thank you for that, Daniel. I would rather have friends than strangers with me.’ He closed the log-book when he was done with it.

‘Doctor Maturin!’ He heard Tom calling for him somewhere down the deck.

‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ He sighed, ‘Here, Mister Pullings!’

‘Oh, there you are, sir!’ The boys appeared shortly, grinning like fiends and out of breath from some exertion.

‘Here I am. Is everything alright, boys?’ He eyed the troublemaking pair carefully, ‘The ship’s not caught fire?’

‘No, sir, it hasn’t!’

‘And you two aren’t causing mischief?’

‘No, sir, we aren’t.’

‘Huh.’ He snickered, ‘You’re leaving Mister Harding alone?’

‘Absolutely, sir!’ Hector blinked wide eyes, ‘He scares me!’

‘You tell me right away if he gives either of you unearned troubles. But you stay away from him otherwise.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Still busy recruiting the youngsters, aren’t you, Maturin?’  Hamilton chuckled. ‘Who’s this pair of mischief-mongers, then?’

‘Two of the Vanguard’s youngsters, Tom Pullings and Hector Ryan.’ He looked at his partners and smiled, ‘Mister Pullings was with me in the Surprise last year.’

‘A pleasure, boys.’

‘Tom, Hector, these two are my old partners from Westeray and Calenfell back home.’

‘Are you land doctors, sirs?’

‘Aye, lad.’ Whitlock smiled at Hector. ‘But not anymore, now we’re out here looking after your lot.’

‘If you need something, boys, Doctor Hamilton and Doctor Whitlock are my immediate assistants. You can let the rest of the crew know if they don’t already.’

‘And it won’t be that hard to find you, sir, will it?’ Tom took hold of Stephen’s sleeve cuff, standing far closer than someone else might. ‘I know how to find you.’

‘If I’m not up on deck, I might be with Admiral Nelson.’

He felt a tug on his trousers and looked down over his shoulder, ‘Ah, there you are, Calamy. Are you alright, son?’

‘I’m alright, sir.’ Peter Calamy said solemnly, letting Stephen pick him up, ‘Mister Nelson said I should find Tom and Hector.’

‘You can’t say his rank yet, but you’ll get there.’ Stephen smiled, ‘Have you met my partners?’

‘No, sir, I haven’t.’

‘We spent an awful lot of time worried about you, son.’ Hamilton looked Calamy over, ‘You look alright for the scare you got. Are you alright, though?’

‘Yes, sir, I think so.’

‘I was just telling Tom and Hector, if they need something and can’t find me, come to Doctor Hamilton and Doctor Whitlock.’ Stephen shared a look with his partners, ‘Or, look for your cousin or the lieutenants.’

‘Lieutenant Aubrey, sir?’

‘Or Lieutenant Nisbet. Either of them.’

‘Yes, sir. I will.’ Calamy said quietly, ‘Am I in trouble, sir?’

‘No, son. Not with anyone who matters. We’ll write letters to your parents to let them know what’s become of you, and the chances we’ll be meeting your father’s commission is very good.’

‘Do you really think so, sir?’ The lad brightened up a bit at the mention of seeing his father again.

‘I do think so. After all, if I remember rightly, the Fencer and the Atalante are deployed with the Mediterranean fleet at the moment. And we are for Spain.’ He set Calamy down, ‘You three go on and stay out of Mister Harding’s way.’

‘Yes, sir.’ All three boys saluted and were gone again, off to whatever it was that kept them busy.

‘Growing your network again, Maturin.’ Whitlock said with a conspiratorial smile. ‘What is your magic?’

‘I couldn’t say.’ He shrugged, watching until the boys were out of sight, ‘They’re good boys; they just need a bit of direction, is all.’

‘And you’re the one to do it?’

‘I’ll certainly try.’ He sighed, knowing his days were never going to be quiet. That was alright, though; he would rather be occupied than wondering when something would come along.

Chapter Text

Reaching Toulon, where they had been sent by Jervis, turned out to be the simplest part of the exercise. Stephen just knew it would get far, far worse before it ever got better. He knew how bad “far worse” could be, he had seen the disastrous results at Tenerife, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer scale of “far worse” he would be dealing with. It started with a gale that scattered the small fleet they had gathered, forcing everyone to regroup, and cascaded into a series of failed attempts at finding and stopping Napoleon.

As one search after another came up empty, Nelson’s temper got worse and worse and before long, no one would go near him. The bad mood had gotten to the senior officers fairly early, and Stephen was dealing with a number of angry, bored gentlemen. The youngsters were making themselves scarce out of a sense of self-preservation, which was probably the smartest thing they did.

‘Where are they!’ Nelson snarled one evening as they sat off of Cyprus, ‘We have searched the entirety of this damn ocean and come up empty-handed!’

‘Everything I know, you know.’ Stephen said carefully, watching his friend pace the cabin like a caged animal. ‘And nothing has changed.’

‘Do we have any leads on that damn fleet of his?’

‘Brueys would have stayed close to Alexandria, if he’s smart.’ Stephen studied the maps spread on the table, ‘If they’re not in Alexandria, which I doubt they are, search the coast towards Aboukir Bay. That, if anywhere, is where we would find the French fleet.’

‘Why would they be there?’

‘Call it a hunch.’ He traced the curve of the bay with a fingertip, ‘I would put prize-money on that fleet of ghosts sitting pretty in Aboukir Bay, waiting for Napoleon’s say-so.’

‘Are you certain of this?’

‘As certain as I ever am. The few whispers I hear point to Aboukir Bay. If you want to find the French, look there.’

‘But if they’re in already, and I’m not idiot enough to believe they haven’t hunkered down there, we’re at a disadvantage.’ Nelson joined him at the table. ‘What would we do?’

‘Let me think on this for a while. I’ll come up with something.’ He promised.

Nelson gave him one of the charts and wished him luck.

‘We’ll make our way back towards Egypt, then.’

‘Shall I send for Ed?’

‘Would you please? And the boys, while you’re at it.’ Nelson seemed to be in a slightly better mood now that some small progress had been made.

‘Absolutely.’ He smiled and went to the door. ‘Mister Hawkins.’

‘Sir?’

‘Pass the word for Captain Berry and the lieutenants, if you please.’ He offered the boy a smile.

‘Right away, sir.’ The sentry rushed off, and Stephen stayed only long enough for the summoned officers to arrive.

‘What is going on, Stephen?’ Aubrey whispered harshly, ‘He’s been like a caged animal for a week!’

‘I’ll let him explain it. I have some planning of my own to do.’ He held up the chart, ‘Would you mind terribly if I borrowed your compass and navigational gear again?’

‘You’re welcome to it! One of these days, I’ll get you your own, so you don’t have to use mine every time you get it into your head to play captain.’ Aubrey’s eyes got that familiar glow to them, ‘You’d better let me know what you’re up to, old man.’

‘I’m not keeping anyone out of this, I promise. I just need a few minutes of peace and your gear.’ He promised, letting the boys into the cabin behind Berry.

‘Good luck.’ Aubrey pulled him close and dropped a quick kiss to his cheek before he disappeared into the cabin.

Stephen made his escape and got what he needed out of Aubrey’s berth. Interestingly, they were neighbours, which was just fine with them.

‘What are you doing, Doctor Mati?’

‘Ah, there you are, Calamy!’ Stephen smiled as young Calamy popped out of his hiding place in Aubrey’s hammock. ‘I’m borrowing some of Lieutenant Aubrey’s navigational equipment. I need to use it for plotting.’

‘Oh. Can I help?’

‘You’re welcome to, lad.’ He smiled and held out his hand to the youngster, who hopped from his nest onto Stephen’s shoulder. ‘You’ve gotten very good at Shifting, back and forth at will.’

‘I’ve had good teachers, sir.’  Calamy settled into his usual perch on Stephen’s shoulder.

Returning to his own small quarters, Stephen laid the chart on the narrow desk and put down the compass and tools he’d borrowed. He first made his own version of the chart and labelled the known landmarks, then used the original chart and Aubrey’s tools to work out where Brueys might have gone to ground with his ships. He couldn’t get it out of his head that the French were sitting in Aboukir Bay, it just seemed to be the most likely place he would find them.

‘Doctor Mati!’

‘In here, lads.’ He didn’t look over his shoulder when he heard Tom and Hector calling for him. It wasn’t long before the pair had joined him, sitting on different sides of his desk to watch.

‘Are you trying to help the admiral, sir? He said you were down here with the charts.’

‘Aye, lads. We’re going to try one more time to find the French, and I think I know exactly where we’ll find them.’

‘Here, is what he said.’ Tom touched the curve of the bay with a paw, ‘But what if we’re too late to get there first?’

‘Then we’ll find another way to make this work in our favour.’ He made marks on the chart to illustrate the positions of the French fleet, which were just hypothetical until Stephen had better intelligence to work with. But he went as far as drawing up approaches for the small British fleet, and a suggestion for requesting more reinforcements to bolster their existing numbers.

‘Oh, do you think that will work, sir?’ Hector asked as he carefully rolled the chart up.

‘I’d like to think it will. Let’s get this to Nelson and see what he thinks of it, eh, lads?’

‘Aye, sir!’

‘Come along, then.’ He smiled and got up, carefully setting aside Aubrey’s gear to return later.

With Calamy on his shoulder and Tom and Hector at heel, Stephen made his way to the great cabin. No one was terribly surprised to see him, it was far more common these days for him to have the youngsters in tow than otherwise, but the look on Harding’s face would always please him.

‘Ah, there you are, Maturin.’

‘My apologies for the delay, sir.’ He said quietly, passing the plans to Aubrey, who passed them up to Berry, ‘But I think I have something.’

‘Excellent.’ Nelson took the chart and unrolled it. ‘Ah, yes, this…how are you so good at this, Maturin? You’re no navigator.’

‘I’m as good at copying as I am at everything else, I suppose.’ He shrugged, ‘And I’m not ashamed to admit that I have picked up on a few things while I’ve been out.’

‘Not just a surgeon.’ Someone at the table muttered.

‘Not by a long bloody shot, he ain’t.’ Nisbet whispered to Aubrey, who snickered.

‘Hush, you two.’ Stephen scolded.

‘What makes you think there’s going to be any room to manoeuvre behind the French?’ Harding asked acidly.

‘I don’t know if there will be. But I’ve known the French commanders to be a bit less cautious than they should be. And if they take the shallows by the shoals here,’ He traced the potential he had worked out, ‘Some of our offensive could break off and come up around behind them. They wouldn’t be expecting us to, of course.’

‘You would need frigates, fourth-rates or small third-rates would be the biggest you could risk on a flanking manoeuvre like this.’ Berry mused, rubbing his chin, ‘What do you think, sir?’

‘We should see where our friends are holed up first. And act upon first-hand intelligence.’ Nelson looked at Stephen, ‘Well done, Doctor Maturin.’

‘Sir.’ He accepted the praise quietly.

Harding muttered something about upstart civilians thinking they knew better than Navy officers, Stephen reached over and caught Aubrey by the wrist before the lad could think of reacting. It wasn’t more than a reactive motion to what he knew the lieutenant was capable of, but he didn’t want to see exactly the degree of violence Aubrey would exercise upon Harding.

‘I think we’ve done enough for now.’ Nelson said carefully, ‘Captain, see that the rest of the fleet is brought up to speed on developments.’

‘Sir.’ Bless him, Berry knew when to ask questions, and when to follow orders.

‘Aubrey, Maturin, you stay.’

‘Of course, sir.’

‘And Harding.’

‘Aye, sir.’

‘Tom, I want you and Hector to go with Captain Berry.’ Stephen lifted Calamy from his shoulder, ‘Take Peter with you.’

‘But I want to stay with you, sir.’

‘Not this time, lad.’ He shook his head, ‘This is no business for you to be involved in.’

‘Captain, would you do me a favour to look after the youngsters?’ Stephen asked, knowing Berry wouldn’t refuse him.

‘I’d be glad to, Doctor.’ Berry nodded, ‘Come along, lads.’

‘Aye, Captain.’ The boys reluctantly obeyed, and he waited for the door to close behind them.

It was quiet for only as long as it took the rest of the officers to leave. Nisbet stayed, even though he hadn’t specifically been asked, but it was almost expected that Aubrey and Nisbet stayed together.

‘Mister Harding.’ Nelson was studying the charts spread on the table, especially the one Stephen had worked out.

‘Admiral?’

‘There seems to be a misunderstanding among certain members of this crew, and I will not stand for it any longer.’

‘Of course not, sir.’

‘I would take care, Mister Harding.’ Nelson glanced at the Master, ‘You have entirely misunderstood the situation among your fellow warrant officers.’

‘How, sir?’

‘Open hostility towards the company’s surgeon and his mates. All three of them are civilian surgeons with far better training and skills than anyone else I could hope to find.’

‘But, sir!’

‘Their warrants belong to me, Mister Harding. I have known Doctor Maturin for far longer than I’ve had anything to do with you, and I have more faith in his senior mates than nearly anyone else on this ship.’ Nelson’s voice was soft, dangerous, ‘If some ill or injury befalls any member of the Vanguard’s crew, or in fact any ship in this fleet, I can’t think of any men better suited to care for the afflicted.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And yet, you have gone out of your way to express your disdain for the very people best inclined to keep us alive.’ Quicksilver eyes narrowed, ‘And if it is not for their former status as civilians, for they are not so any longer and have not been for several months, then you have chosen the wrong cause to champion in your equal disdain for Shapeshifters.’

‘I have never…’

‘I did not say you could speak, Mister Harding. Do not interrupt me again.’

‘Sir.’

‘Your contempt for Doctor Maturin might be excused, if you had not shown the same disrespect for Chimeras. There are no less than seven among this company, perhaps more than that.’

‘Seven, sir?’

‘Yes, Mister Harding. Three of them are the company’s youngsters, to whom you have been particularly rude.’

‘Sir?’

‘Mister Ryan, Mister Pullings, and Mister Calamy. Who is family to some of my best captains.’ Nelson folded his hands calmly behind his back, and Stephen shared a look with Aubrey. ‘And I guarantee word does not travel slowly between the ships of my squadron. I may not have said anything to Captain Calamy or Captain Peterson, but I would not have to.’

‘I meant no disrespect, Admiral, but we can’t allow just any rules to be broken.’

‘I know every law you may think to remind me of, Mister Harding, and I promise you, none of them have been broken or bent. I have taken every step to ensure that Mister Calamy is a vetted member of my crew and he is looked after by the proper authorities.’

‘I understand, sir.’

‘He does more than his share of the work carried out, and none of his handlers have complained to me once since he was brought on and entered into our rosters. The only complaints brought to my attention have come from you, Mister Harding, and your lackeys.’ Nelson looked at Stephen, ‘Doctor Maturin, have you any complaints to lodge against the Vanguard’s youngsters?’

‘Absolutely none, admiral. All three of them have proven to be exceptional. If I have them running messages or carrying supplies, they do it without question.’

‘And you have prior service with young Mister Pullings, I believe?’

‘Aye, sir. Last year with the Surprise, under Captain Ferguson. He had no ill to speak of the lad then, or since.’

‘Indeed, his letters regarding Mister Pullings were rather glowing and effusive. He said the lad was diligent and clever, showed an uncanny intelligence and a knack for the trade of the sailor.’

‘Aye, sir. And I did not ask him to say that.’

‘No. And your own reports were equally promising.’

‘Sir.’

‘Admiral, you can’t…’

‘Mister Harding, do not presume to dictate to me. You are not as exceptional as you believe yourself to be, nor as valuable. A good, fair Master is hard enough to find. You, sir, have proven yourself to be neither.’ Nelson’s patience was already frayed, Stephen was almost afraid he would physically lash out at Harding.

‘But as I cannot hope to find myself a decent replacement for your station this close to engagement with the damned French, you will stay. I would watch your step, Mister Harding. Your days with this company are numbered, and I will be watching your every move. You are dismissed.’

Harding said nothing, he bowed and departed the cabin looking rather ill.

Stephen felt a bit of tension leave the air and exhaled softly.

‘My irritation is not with you, Stephen. Never with you.’ Nelson said quietly once it was only the two of them. ‘And if that changes, I will take you into confidence rather than embarrass either of us publicly.’

‘I hope I haven’t given you cause recently.’

‘You have not, sir.’ Nelson shook his head, ‘You have not.’

Any response he might have made was stalled by a slight commotion by the starboard gunport. All they heard was a scrambling on the outer hull, and the sound of something dropping onto the deployed long-gun.

‘What on earth?’ Nelson whispered.

‘One of the youngsters, I imagine.’ He shook his head as they advanced on the port. Peering out, he caught sight of the small glider perched on the muzzle of the gun.

‘Oh, for God’s sake.’ He chuckled, ‘It’s only Mister Calamy, sir.’

‘Fine little mischief-maker, ain’t he?’ Nelson rolled his eyes as Stephen coaxed Calamy back into the cabin. ‘How long have you been eavesdropping, then, son?’

‘Ain’t droppin’ no eaves, sir!’ Calamy said defiantly as he hopped from Stephen’s wrist to sit on Nelson’s shoulder, ‘Ain’t no eaves on a ship!’

‘And yet, you’ve decided to risk falling off the ship?’ Stephen folded his arms, ‘There is no lack of excitement with you around, is there, Mister Calamy?’

‘Can’t help it, sirs. Da always said I’d get into bigger trouble than I could handle someday.’

‘Not yet, you haven’t.’ He shook his head.

A shout overhead got his attention, and he looked at Nelson.

‘Oncoming?’

‘We might as well go see.’ He let Nelson go ahead of him and they reached the main deck just in time to hear the sighting called down two points off their taffrail and maybe a mile distant.

‘What do you see, Stephen?’ Nelson asked quietly as he got a look at the pair of ships behind them.

‘Two of ours, judging by those flags, a third-rate and a great frigate, it looks like.’ He studied the nearing pair, ‘I can’t name them yet.’ Stephen looked over his shoulder.

‘Mister Parker.’

‘Aye, sir?’

‘Get Lieutenant Aubrey.’

‘Aye, sir.’ The man saluted and disappeared.

Five minutes later, Aubrey joined them.

‘Parker said you needed me for something.’

‘You’ve better eyes than we do, lad. Can you name those two for us?’ He pointed to the pair behind them, handing Aubrey his glass.

‘I…can. That is the…I believe that is the Atalante, and the Fencer right alongside of her, sirs.’

‘Oh, excellent.’ Nelson smiled, ‘Mister Pullings, you know what to do.’

‘Aye, sir!’ Tom’s eyes lit up, ‘Come on, Hector!’

The boys took off, arguing over which of them got to do which part, they always did.

‘We’ll be having a bit of company soon.’ Stephen muttered, knowing the rest of the captains would be responding to that signal as soon as the boys had it up.

‘I need to bring the rest of them up to speed, anyway. You gave us a plan of action; now we need to make sure everyone else knows their part to play.’ Nelson folded his hands behind his back and they watched as a responding signal went up from the newcomers.

Twenty minutes later, Stephen found himself back in the day-cabin, around the map-table with Nelson, Berry, and their lieutenants. This time, the other sixteen captains and commanders had joined them. Stephen was surprised by how many of them he remembered or recognised from prior stations. Of course, he knew Miller and Troubridge, he’d been with them at the Canaries last year.

‘How much pretty asking did it take to get you dragged into this mess, then?’ Miller whispered as they shook hands. ‘Or did you come regardless?’

‘Both.’ He winked at his brother-in-law, ‘I don’t suppose my sister came along?’

‘If you think I’m letting that idiot out of my sight for a minute, Stephen Maturin, you are sadly mistaken!’

‘Ah, there you are, darling!’ He chuckled as Leah hopped onto his shoulder from the floor, taking a bit of a climb, ‘I only ask for your safety, dear.’

‘Don’t worry about mine.’ She said curtly, settling a narrow, harsh gaze on Nelson, who stood nearby chatting with a few of the others.

‘I will worry, sister.’ He said quietly, rubbing the soft fur behind her right ear.

‘Lady Miller!’ Aubrey had sighted them and came over, ‘What are you doing here, then?’

‘Oh, Jack, hello, darling!’ Leah abandoned Stephen to say hello to Aubrey, ‘I’m here to make sure things go smoothly. No uncivil words spoken at this table tonight.’

‘Well, I don’t think we’ll have to worry about that. Mister Harding has his orders, and he’s not quite suicidal.’ Aubrey chuckled and lifted Leah to his own shoulder, which pleased her greatly.

‘Oh, is Davench Harding still causing trouble for the rest of his ship’s company? I thought they would have turned him out by now!’ Leah stiffened, her fur stood on end. They pointed out the humbled Master, who refused to look at anyone and more or less minded himself like a scolded child.

‘There’s a very good chance this will be the last time he has any service with the Royal Navy, my dear. He’s made the wrong assumption one time too many.’ Miller said calmly. Stephen typically had one outside source involved when something came up, and he had kept his brother-in-law informed of things.

‘Were any children involved? He’s always been biased against youngsters as long as I’ve had anything to do with the bastard.’

‘I’m afraid there were. Three of them.’ Aubrey shook his head, ‘But they’re well-protected and nigh untouchable. We keep them safe and out of as much mischief as it’s possible.’

‘Good.’ That seemed to satisfy her enough to calm her from wanting to openly claw Harding’s eyes out. Stephen shared a look with the other two and rolled his eyes.

The rest of the meeting went as well as any, and plans were explained and settled.

‘Brueys has his whole fleet anchored up in the bay against the shoals.’ Troubridge pointed out, ‘How will we take them on?’

‘From both sides.’ Nelson pointed out the path Stephen had plotted earlier, ‘If the French have left us the opening we anticipate, we can send our smaller ships along behind, here.’

‘You could get a couple of fourth-rates through there easy.’ Lieutenant Hardy leaned over the chart, ‘You could take the Theseus or the Orion up behind in no time; they’d never know until too late.’

‘That’s exactly what we’re going to do, Lieutenant.’ Nelson smiled, ‘I’m only sorry I have to keep you out of the excitement.’

‘I have a different job to do, sir.’ Hardy said, ‘I’ll get my chance another time.’

‘He certainly will.’ Troubridge whispered to Stephen. ‘That lad’s drive will get him far indeed.’

‘Bless him for taking this with such grace.’ Stephen shook his head, thinking that any number of commanders and even some of the captains he knew would be devastated to more or less be relegated to sitting on the sidelines and waiting. But Thomas Hardy was a faithful, honest man who would take his orders, carry them out, and wait for the moment of glory he would enjoy someday. Stephen looked forward to watching the man’s career.

‘Do we have any good idea of how deep the bay really is, though?’ Calamy inquired, bringing up a point of concern.

‘Doctor Maturin.’ Nelson looked down the table at him. He nodded and set out a chart he had acquired a few months ago.

‘Give me a hand, Thomas?’ He looked at Troubridge, who took one side of the chart for him. ‘Captain Calamy, would you kindly pass that weight, sir?’

‘Of course, Doctor.’ The requested item was handed over and he carefully weighted the corners of the depth-chart.

‘Where did you get a depth-chart like that?’ The Bellerophon’s captain asked, genuinely curious, ‘Is it written in French?’

‘Doctor Maturin has proven an invaluable part of my staff, his knowledge is shared readily enough.’ Nelson shot him a grateful look, ‘We would have only a fraction of what we know about the French movements if not for him.’

‘One of the best of us, he is.’ Miller spoke up, smiling when Stephen gave him a dirty look.

The chart was studied carefully, and plans were adjusted as necessary. There was plenty of room for error and no matter how carefully they planned their advances, it was without question something would go wrong. All they could do was prepare for immediate eventualities and put plans into action tomorrow. That was about how long it would take for them to reach Alexandria and Aboukir Bay.

Chapter Text

When the assembly was dismissed, most of the captains returned to their ships. Some of them, however, did not leave right away. If anyone thought it strange that the captains of the Theseus, Atalante, and Fencer stayed behind, they were smart enough to keep it to themselves. The captain of the Audacious stayed behind as well.

Stephen was the last to leave Nelson’s quarters, and only that after dragging a promise from him to sleep a few hours tonight. He may not see the need for it, but if he didn’t at least try, Stephen would take whatever steps necessary to force the matter. And as he was the flagship’s chief surgeon, his word was practically law.

‘I see you still have the magic touch with him.’

‘Hush, Will.’ Stephen rolled his eyes as he pulled the door shut behind him. ‘You should know better than that.’

‘You’d certainly like to think so!’ His brother-in-law fell in behind him, ‘You know, you’re still the only person in the whole Royal Navy who can get him to listen.’

‘I highly doubt that’s true.’

‘It is, and the way the rest of them carry on about it is almost funny.’ Miller looked disgustingly happy about something, but Stephen doubted it had anything to do with what they were getting into tomorrow.

‘Why are you smiling like that?’

‘Because the rumours are true, and it’s glorious to watch. What did you threaten him with, then?’

‘That, I’m afraid, is none of your business.’ He shook his head. ‘If he’s smart, he knows better than to try my patience on a night like this.’

‘No one ever said he was, though.’

‘He’s stubborn, not stupid.’

‘Oh, no! He’s almost too smart; intelligence is not his weakness.’ Miller shrugged.

As they reached the quarterdeck, he caught sight of his little band of friends and informants.

‘Who is my sister talking to?’ He inquired, not recognizing the men Leah was chatting up. She was accompanied by Aubrey and Nisbet; there was no sign of Berry. He did recognise Thomas Hardy, though.

‘That, I believe, is Captain Peterson and his brother-in-law.’

‘Ah, Mister Peterson and Mister Calamy’s family, then.’ He had seen the two in the day-cabin, but hadn’t had a chance to speak to them. ‘Where are the boys?’

‘Can’t see ‘em from here.’ Miller scanned the deck, ‘Any chance they’d be where they belong in their hammocks?’

‘Not tonight. Too much excitement to sleep well, I’m afraid.’ He looked up, searching for the threesome in the rigging.

‘I wonder why he insisted on the White Standards and four spar lanterns.’

‘Because it’s dissimilar enough from the tri-colour standard of our friends, and it’s less likely we’ll accidentally open fire on our own ships in the dark. And the spar lanterns are for better nighttime visibility.’

‘Huh. I’d ask how you know so much about his plans and doings, but that’s an idiot question.’

‘Especially for the likes of you to ask.’ Stephen rolled his eyes. ‘Where are the boys, though? I didn’t see them outside the cabin, and that’s usually where they hide out waiting for me.’

‘Ask Aubrey?’

‘I might.’ He had to talk to Aubrey anyway, and the lad had seen them coming.

‘Good evening, Doctor.’

‘Gentlemen.’ He greeted the small enclave. ‘Lieutenant, have you seen the youngsters about? I haven’t thought to check their hammocks, which is absolutely where they should be, and I didn’t see them aloft.’

‘And they weren’t waiting outside the cabin, either.’ Aubrey raised an eyebrow, ‘I thought I saw the pair go over the rail about ten minutes ago, but I couldn’t be sure.’

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake.’ He went to the windward rail, ‘They know they’re not supposed to go over there without someone watching!’

‘What’s the matter?’

‘Your sons are rather good at keeping Doctor Maturin busier than he should be, but the man will never complain about it.’ Aubrey explained as Stephen reached the rail and carefully leaned over. Sure enough, there on the chains were three small, shadowed figures.

‘Oh, what are the three of you doing out of your beds?’ He scolded, getting the threesome’s attention, ‘You should have been asleep nearly two hours ago!’

‘Sorry, sir.’

‘Come back over the rail, you three.’ He waited for them to come back over, holding out his hand for Calamy. ‘Where’s your cousin, Mister Calamy?’

‘I don’t know, sir. He’s off-watch, so he might be below-decks with the others.’ Calamy said, settling on Stephen’s shoulder. ‘Is my father here? I saw the Atalante earlier, when they caught up with us.’

‘He is here, and I suspect he’s been waiting for a chance to get eyes on you for himself. It’s been three months, after all.’ Stephen looked at Hector and Tom, ‘Can you two hunt down Peterson for me?’

‘Yes, sir. Right away, Doctor Mati.’ The pair took off, gone in the dimness of the nighttime decks.

‘Is everything alright, Doctor Maturin?’ The Atalante’s captain enquired as he rejoined them. ‘You seemed to have a few stern words for those two.’

‘I’ve sent them off to find Captain Peterson’s boy, he’s off-watch at the moment but I doubt he’s asleep.’

‘Y’know, for nearly a year, his letters were all about the land-doctor who turned convention on it’s head and didn’t apologise to anyone for the fuss.’ Peterson smiled, ‘I had no idea what got your attention and kept it this long.’

‘Lieutenant Aubrey was my first introduction to the Royal Navy properly.’ He eyed up the young lieutenant who lived with him ashore and shared everything between them. ‘I wasn’t expecting to get so tied up with the service when I rescued him from the beach that morning, but I have very few regrets about it.’

‘Only that you couldn’t have done more for the Ouragan, I imagine.’

‘I held out hope for a hulk, anything more than debris and bodies, but I knew it was foolish.’ He shook his head, ‘It wasn’t anything I regretted, and I would absolutely do it over again if I had to.’

‘See, that dedication is priceless. Your stations are damn fortunate to have you.’

‘I’ve been equally fortunate to land stations with friends or family. That won’t always be true.’

‘Considering Nelson guards you like dragon’s gold.’ Peterson shook his head, ‘Don’t apologise to anyone for what you do.’

‘My friends are more numerous than my enemies; I don’t take that for granted.’

‘And the youngsters are especially fond of you.’

‘It’s always been that way.’ He coaxed young Calamy to perch on his wrist, ‘And I doubt it will change any time soon. The two you saw earlier are Hector and Tom, they’ve followed me since the beginning of this. Tom was with me before this, and I suspect it will be quite a while before he leaves.’

‘If he does!’ Aubrey rolled his eyes, ‘Those two are terribly loyal to you, it’s almost heartbreaking.’

‘I’m not keen on sending them away.’

‘Of course you’re not.’ The man beside Peterson, who by appearance alone was Peter Calamy’s father, just smiled. ‘My son seems very fond of you.’

‘It’s a mutual fondness, Captain.’ He let Calamy go to his father, ‘Where does his stubborn streak come from?’

‘Both of us, I’m afraid. If he’s been any trouble, I’m sorry for it.’

‘Oh, absolutely not. The only trouble we’ve had is none of your son’s making.’ He promised, ‘The boys are keen enough to give him company.’

‘And they to keep you company as well.’

‘And I welcome it.’ He heard the boys coming back and knew they’d found Mister Peterson, ‘Ah, good, they found him.’

‘Papa!’ Peterson lit up at the sight of his father, who was quick to offer his son a bit of unguarded affection. ‘I saw the Fencer and the Atalante before!’

‘Hello, David, my boy.’ Captain Peterson hugged his son close, ‘Doctor Maturin was just giving us a report on things.’

‘Oh, yes, sir! We’ve been on good behaviour, sirs, promise.’ Young Peterson promised, ‘I’ve been looking after Peter and the others for Doctor Maturin and Lieutenant Aubrey.’

‘Just look after your rascal cousin, then. I doubt we could get that boy off the water now if we tried.’ Peterson and Calamy shared a knowing eye-roll, and Stephen chuckled as the youngsters looked at each other.

‘Oh, does that mean I get to stay?!’ Little Calamy asked, barely containing his excitement.

‘For now? You stay with your company.’ Captain Calamy looked at his son, ‘Your mother would very much like to see you, so I’ll be taking you back to the Atalante for a while.’

‘Oh, but I can come back?’

‘In the morning, I promise.’

‘Mister Peterson, can you help your cousin collect his things?’ Stephen turned to the midshipman, who nodded and got his cousin in hand.

‘Sure, Doctor Mati! Come on, Peter, let’s get you packed up.’

‘What about us, sir?’ Tom asked quietly, sitting by Stephen’s foot.

‘You two should have been in bed hours ago.’ He reached down, collecting the youngsters, ‘The excitement’s over for now, you need to get your rest.’

‘Can we stay in your cabin, sir? Just for tonight?’

‘I don’t see why not.’ He looked at Aubrey, who just raised an eyebrow. ‘Go with Lieutenant Aubrey.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Come along, boys. It’s far too late for you, and you’ve been out of your beds long enough.’ Aubrey just smiled, Shifting into his young lion Form and taking Hector by the scruff. Stephen set Tom on Aubrey’s shoulders and watched them head off. One of the boys complained that they weren’t that tired, but Stephen knew better.

‘That’s typical, I take it?’

‘Oh, very much.’ He smiled, shaking his head, ‘Between your boy, Captain, and Aubrey, the youngsters are well in hand.’

‘Good. I know only too well the degree of trouble youngsters are capable of.’ Peterson looked up into the rigging, ‘Mine hasn’t outgrown it yet.’

‘Not yet, and that’s why I put Aubrey on all of them. He has a better handle on them than anyone else on the crew.’

‘And you have better thing to do than wrangle a couple of feisty youngsters.’ Edward Calamy looked him over, ‘But you do it anyway. How do they keep finding you?’

‘That, I can’t tell you.’ Stephen shrugged, ‘Children have always been particularly drawn to me, and I’ve never been inclined to stop them from it.’

‘Even when their parents might be.’

‘That still hasn’t stopped them.’ He thought of his little network back in Westeray and Calenfell, ‘My only real concern is when they’re directly in harm’s way.’

‘And you can’t stop them from being there.’

‘Aye.’

‘You’re a healer, it’s in your nature to worry.’

‘And far better that I be out here, where I can keep an eye on everything, than worrying about it from the safety of dry, solid ground.’ Stephen glanced over the rail at the dark water below, ‘Certain sacrifices.’

‘You don’t strike me as a landlubber, Doctor Maturin.’

‘Stephen Maturin might be many things, gentlemen, but I wouldn’t call him a landlubber.’

‘Captain Blakeney.’

‘Oh, good evening, sir!’ Stephen recognised the man who had quietly joined their little enclave, genuinely surprised and thrilled to see him.

‘This man here, he saved my life.’ Andrew Blakeney looked at Stephen, ‘Saw to it that my crew was buried properly. I didn’t forget that kindness, that risk.’

‘I’m very glad to see you, sir. It’s been too long.’ Stephen took the man’s hand, ‘How are you?’

‘Well as you see me, every day better than before.’ Blakeney said as they shook hands, ‘My wife, bless her, was just thrilled I came home at all.’

‘And here you are, fully prepared to pay the bastards back for the trouble.’ Stephen rested one hand on Blakeney’s shoulder.

‘I’ve done it before, and I’ll be happy to do it again. Just give me the tools.’

‘I think you have one, sir. A fine one.’ He looked out at the distant mast-lights, ‘Which is yours, then?’

‘They gave me the Audacious.’

‘Oh, that was Gould’s ship, weren’t it?’

‘Aye, but they moved him out to the Falcon.’

‘Which is going to sting awful.’ Miller shook his head, ‘He lost his commission and his station, all at once.’

‘One of these days, they’ll catch up Nelson for playing favourites like he does.’ Stephen had noticed his friend’s habit of snatching up the choicest captains for himself, either stationed as flag-captain or in his squadron.

‘They’ll have to catch him first.’ Miller muttered, ‘Good luck with that.’

‘Hush, Will.’ Stephen scolded his brother-in-law, ‘You know better than that.’

‘It ain’t wrong, though.’

‘Enough, you.’ He rolled his eyes.

‘He’s always been that way, son, always will be, too.’ Blakeney chuckled, ‘Bless his wife’s patience.’

‘I appreciate your sentiment, Andrew.’ Leah stepped between Stephen and Miller, ‘But I’m certain my husband and my brother can mind their manners around each other.’

‘Oh, it’s not your brother I’m concerned about, my lady.’ Blakeney promised.

‘This close to engagement with the French, we should be focusing our energies on the enemy.’

‘Yes, ma’am.’

‘If you gentlemen will excuse us.’

The look Leah gave Miller was so telling. Stephen saw the way Miller’s expression changed and stifled his amusement. Once the Millers were gone, Stephen did a head count and realised that the others had quietly been taking their leave. The Calamys were gone, as was Peterson; the Millers had just gone, and the only one still aboard the Vanguard was Blakeney.

‘How much do you trust your lieutenants, then, Captain?’ Stephen asked, well aware of Blakeney’s regard behind him.

‘Enough to know it’s safe to stay here.’

‘Of course.’ He had no problem with it, ‘Would you like to stay up here or go below?’

‘I’d like to go down if that’s any difference to you.’

‘None at all, sir.’ He shook his head and led the way down to the gunroom.

Of course, once they were settled at the table, they weren’t alone for long. Aubrey was quick to join them, but he was always welcome. After all, he had belonged to Blakeney before Stephen had gotten involved in things.

‘So, what trouble has that one been up to since the Ouragan?’ Blakeney enquired, pointing at Aubrey.

‘Nothing he’s needed me to get him out of, I am pleased to report.’ Stephen smiled, ‘But he was the first of my band of Navy strays.’

‘Stray?!’

‘Hush, boy. When I found you, I wasn’t sure what you were or if you were even alive.’ He scolded, ‘You were every bit a stray when we met. And really, that has not changed.’

‘How did he figure you so quickly, Aubrey?’

‘Dunno, sir.’ Aubrey passed over refilled glasses, they’d found a bottle of wine to share between them, ‘But really, he’s not wrong. And I was the first, but not the only one.’

‘Of course, you’re not! Not if he’s got Calamy and Peterson’s lads, too!’ That got a sly look. ‘Now, what about the other pair I saw shadowing you two?’

‘Who?’ Aubrey frowned, ‘Tom and Hector?’

‘Aye. Where’d you find them?’

‘Tom found us in London a year back, and Hector’s family to one of Nelson’s lot. A fellow named George Ryan. Good with a rifle, he is.’ Aubrey shrugged, carefully pushing the nearly empty bottle aside.

‘Interesting.’

Stephen kept an ear to the goings on beyond the gunroom, specifically for mischievous, disobedient boys who knew they should be in their beds.

‘What is it?’ Blakeney whispered as he caught a shuffling.

‘Oh, those two are going to be the end of my patience.’ He muttered, keeping an eye on the deck, ‘That is going to be twice tonight?’

‘Three times.’ Aubrey kindly refilled his glass, ‘I wonder what’s kept them up?’

‘The energy on the ship is enough to disturb anyone. They know what we’re going into, but it’s…different this time.’ He saw a flicker of motion under the table and looked under in time to see the pair in question. ‘Can we help you, boys?’

‘We can’t sleep, Doctor Mati. We’ve tried.’ Hector said, looking sorry about not going to bed when he had told them to.

‘I figured as much, boys.’ He smiled, ‘Come along.’

Tom hopped into his lap and then onto the table, and Hector followed.

‘Oh, there you are. Little pair of troublemakers.’ Aubrey rolled his eyes at the pair, ‘Too nervous? Too excited?’

‘Both, sirs.’

‘So, which of you is Hector, and which of you is Tom, then?’ Blakeney asked, amused by the antics of the youngsters.

‘I’m Tom, sir.’ Tom introduced himself. ‘Tom Pullings, sir.’

‘And your friend must be Hector Ryan.’

‘Aye, sir. My brother is George Ryan.’

‘A pleasure, lads. You’re Shapeshifters, I see. Do you prefer your Familiars?’

‘I think they like it this way because it’s easier to get around the ship without being too much in the way.’ Stephen reached around Tom to pick up his glass. ‘And no, sir, you may not have any of this.’

‘Oh, please, Doctor Mati?’ Tom got up on his hind legs, front paws braced against Stephen’s wrist, as he sniffed at the glass, ‘What is it?’

‘This is wine, son. Not something you would like the taste of, I’m afraid.’

‘How do you know that?’

‘It’s a guess. And you’re far too young, lad.’ Aubrey scolded.

‘Oh, for heaven’s sake.’ Stephen couldn’t react fast enough, and Tom put his nose into the glass.

‘Yeuch!’

‘We warned you, son!’ He laughed, carefully lifting the indignant fox out of his wine glass, ‘But you insisted!’

‘Bleugh! That doesn’t taste good at all!’ Tom’s fur was on end, and Stephen imagined if he’d been Human, he’d wear a sour expression.

‘Here, Tom.’ Aubrey got a cup of water, ‘Drink some of this.’

‘May I try it, Doctor Mati?’ Hector asked.

‘Well, Tom didn’t like it. What makes you think it’ll be different for you?’

‘I don’t think it will be, sir. But I’d like to try it.’

‘Very well. Jack, can you pass me that saucer?’

‘Here.’

‘Thank you.’ Stephen took the small dish and poured a bit of wine into it for Hector to try. Predictably, he didn’t like it.

‘You may try it again when you’re older, lads.’ He said, ruffling Tom’s fur, ‘It’s alright not to like the taste of it now.’

Aubrey and Blakeney shared an eye-roll and a chuckle.

‘So, you’ve clearly decided the Royal Navy is to your liking, Doctor.’ Blakeney picked up his own glass, giving the boys a sly look, ‘Have any of your associates followed your example?’

‘Both of them, in fact.’ He glanced over his shoulder, ‘If you can believe that. I have no idea what inspired them, but they’ve made themselves very much at home with the Vanguard’s company.’

‘I don’t suppose anyone might have asked?’

‘Not that I’m aware of, no. But having Whitlock and Hamilton along is nothing I am going to question.’

‘And, why do the youngsters call you Doctor Mati? Is that something about pronouncing your name incorrectly?’

‘It seems to have started that way, the children in Westeray and Calenfell always called me that, and the youngsters I’ve collected with the Royal Navy have carried on the tradition.’ He rubbed the silver Chimera markings on Hector’s head, ‘They’ll switch between what they call me, but I always answer. I always will.’

‘None of your own children, but plenty of them you’ve acquired.’ Blakeney smiled as Hector raised his head into the petting, ‘Have you ever thought of marrying?’

‘No, and certainly not now that I’ve taken up with the Royal Navy. I’m hardly home for more than a month or two at a time, and I keep rather unusual company.’

‘I can think of a woman or two who would be thrilled to say her husband was a company surgeon for the Royal Navy.’

‘You and I must know very different sorts, then.’ Stephen shrugged, ‘It’s no difference to me, there are different ways to create a family if that’s what someone wishes to have.’

‘And you’ve started the making of yours, it seems.’

‘Aye, I have.’ Stephen looked across the table at Aubrey, who blushed, ‘Starting with Jack.’

‘Oh, aye. Jack Aubrey’s a good one, ain’t he?’

‘Andrew.’ Aubrey muttered, turning a delightfully embarrassed shade of pink.

‘You’re practically a brother to me, Jack, it’s my obligation to embarrass you.’

‘And you are so good at it, too.’ Aubrey levelled Blakeney with a mean look.

Stephen chuckled as Tom decided to curl up on Aubrey’s lap while Hector got comfortable on Stephen’s shoulder.

‘Can I sit here, sir?’

‘You’re welcome to, Hector.’ Stephen held up one hand to give Hector something to balance against while he found the best position, ‘But you two should truly go to bed. You need rest.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I think you might have a bit of a problem, Maturin.’

‘Of all things to give me trouble, this is not one of them.’ He picked up his glass once Hector was comfortable. Aubrey grinned but knew better than to say anything. Everyone on the crew knew that the youngsters were enough trouble to keep Stephen and the officers busy, but their trouble was a welcome sort. Unless it were Harding bringing up a complaint against them, then it would be another cause of concern.

Chapter Text

That night, no one slept very well, and the next morning came far too soon. The day was spent preparing for battle and hunting the French. They knew where the fleet had anchored, it was just a matter of putting eyes on them and doing something about it. The hunt lasted well into that evening, and the four lamps were hung as per Nelson’s orders the previous night. The White Standard was raised on every ship’s mast to mark friendly from foes so they wouldn’t accidentally open fire on their own ships.

Once they sighted the French resting in Aboukir Bay, against the shoals and shallows just as Stephen had known they would, signals went up, and the first of the British ships sailed into the bay. That was the last moment of peace Stephen had for hours. He went back and forth between the upper decks and the sickbay and orlop, never pausing for more than a heartbeat.

He was on his way to the quarterdeck when he heard someone shouting for him.

‘Stephen!’

‘Doctor Maturin!’

‘Oh, now what!’ he rushed up the ladder, ‘If it’s Nelson again…’

He was only half-joking, Nelson had the worst habit of getting himself into serious trouble when Stephen wasn’t watching. Something had gone wrong, and Nelson was involved. He didn’t know what had happened or how serious it was, and was determined to find out.

Reaching the open deck, and the chaos involved, he did the smart thing and Shifted. Weaving between debris and the bodies of the living and the wounded, he found Aubrey and Nisbet by the taffrail, both on their knees. He came up short, as the two of them were holding Nelson wounded between them.

‘Crios.’ He gasped, ‘What happened?!’

‘It happened so quickly, we didn’t know it had!’ Aubrey looked frantic, of course. Stephen made a quick estimate of the injuries and their severity and carefully nuzzled Nelson’s face.

‘He’s alive, boys. Get him below, now.’

‘Aye, sir.’ The lieutenants shared a look, and Nisbet yelled for a few men to carry Nelson below. A distant explosion shook the Vanguard, and Stephen hopped onto the rail to get a look.

‘Oh, the Orient.’ He saw the French flagship; she was in severe distress and was sure to catch fire. In fact, he could already see the flames from another burning ship down the line.

But he had work to do, and while he trusted his mates, he wanted to be there for Nelson. Going below again, he sat in on the procedures for Nelson. He kept busy giving instructions and advice, keeping a very close eye on his friend.

A piece of shot had grazed his forehead and torn a flap of skin, which had compromised his vision, and another had slammed into his right arm below the elbow. The hand had been amputated by the impact, and the bones had splintered.

As they were discussing what to do about the arm, Nelson came awake.

‘M-Mati. Maturin!’

‘I’m right here, sir.’ He put his hand against Nelson’s chest, ‘I’ve been here since you went down on the Quarterdeck.’

‘W-what…?’

‘Your vision was compromised by a fragmented shot that left a wound on your brow, and I’m afraid you may be left-handed from now on.’

‘Ahh…damn.’

‘I’m not certain which happened first. Please, be still.’ He put his other hand on Nelson’s shoulder to keep him from moving too much.

‘You two, hold him still.’ This was to Aubrey and Nisbet, who hadn’t left even when Stephen dismissed them.

‘Stephen, we have to amputate.’ Hamilton whispered hoarsely, briefly distracting him, ‘There’s no way to repair the damage to the broken bones.’

‘I know.’ He muttered, shaking his head sharply. ‘But how much has been damaged?’

‘We can’t tell, but the worst is at the wrist-joint. There ain’t much left of it, of course.’

‘No.’ He heard one of the boys whimper and looked up. It was Aubrey; the boy was pale as a sheet, eyes wide.

‘Be strong, Jack.’ Stephen counselled, ‘If you need to step away, you’re not beholden to stay.’

‘No. No, I’ll stay.’ Aubrey shook his head, ‘You need hands, I have two. I’ll stay.’

‘Very well.’ Stephen knew when to push, and Aubrey was determined to stay. Turning to the matter at hand, he gave orders to his assistants and prayed.

Forty-five minutes later, Stephen had done what he could and stood back. He flexed cramped fingers and looked at the men gathered around the table.

‘Try to keep him off the Quarterdeck.’ He whispered, taking off his glasses and wiping his sleeve across his face. ‘And someone needs to stay with him.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Careful looks were exchanged as he left, going up to find open air and see how it had gone above while he was dealing with Nelson.

As he stepped onto the Quarterdeck, Aubrey caught him by the shoulder. The lad didn’t want anything, he was just giving Stephen a warning that he wasn’t alone. The Vanguard had fully engaged the nearby Spartiate, which was being pounded from the other side by the Theseus, Stephen could see his brother-in-law’s ship past their quarry.

‘There’s the Swiftsure.’ Aubrey whispered, pointing out a few of their stragglers. Stephen watched the late-coming fourth-rate, but knew that there was still plenty of work for them to do.

‘Lieutenant Aubrey! Sir!’

‘Mister Peterson?’ Stephen and Aubrey both turned as the midshipman, battered and bloody from the fighting, rushed up to them.

‘What is it, Peterson?’

‘Sirs! Signal!’ The lad gasped, ‘From…the Theseus!’

And sure enough, they saw the signal-flags hoisted on the Theseus.

‘Oh, lord.’ He muttered.

‘I’ll get Berry.’ Aubrey whispered. Stephen nodded and held Peterson stable.

‘Have you seen Tom and Hector, son?’

‘Took hiding a while ago, sir. I told ‘em to, said it weren’t good if somethin’ happened to ‘em.’

‘Good.’

He heard footsteps behind, and swore under his breath. ‘Damn it, I told you! Stay below!’

‘What’s happened?’

‘Nothing you should be involved in!’ He looked over his shoulder at Nelson, who looked half-shy of fainting, ‘Get down below and wait!’

‘Oh, the Orient.’ Nelson was focused on something beyond them, to the south. ‘Is she on fire?’

‘She’s been for a while, Admiral.’ Peterson offered tamely, moving to get under his unhurt shoulder, ‘You shouldn’t be up here, sir.’

‘Jack!’ Stephen caught sight of Aubrey coming back with Captain Berry, ‘Did you have a signal raised for the Theseus?’

‘Aye, sir! At your leisure, sir!’

‘I’ll be right there!’ He looked at Berry, ‘I have business with the Theseus, keep him out of trouble!’

‘Aye, sir! Mister Peterson, help me!’ Berry took his place at Nelson’s side, and he waited until they were out of sight.

‘You,’ He grabbed Aubrey by the wrist, ‘Are coming with me.’

‘Aye, sir.’ Aubrey nodded shortly, and they crossed the deck to the starboard rail. What they were about to do was insanely dangerous, but Stephen knew that if a signal had gone up for him from the Theseus, he couldn’t ignore it. And, they might be able to use the chaos and darkness to their benefit.

A harrowing, hair-raising ten minutes later, they had just come around the stern of the Spartiate when the back of Stephen’s neck prickled. He looked over his shoulder as a roar split the air.

‘Get down! Down!’ He grabbed Aubrey and shoved the lad down, ducking for cover as a ship exploded behind them. Debris fell into the water as smoke and flame filled the air.

‘Crios! What was that!’

‘That was the Orient, sirs!’ The poor steersman cried, crossing himself.

After taking a minute to get their wits back, the explosion had startled and frightened all of them, they bumped against the hull of the Theseus, and Stephen called up for permission to board the ship.

‘Oh, about time you got here!’ His brother-in-law’s face appeared at the rail, ‘I thought you’d got picked off! Did you see the Orient?’

‘Couldn’t have missed it, Will! Coming up!’ He called. ‘Come on, Jack.’

Aubrey, startled by the explosion, had Shifted and curled up in the bottom of the boat in his Other Form. Carefully, Aubrey uncurled and climbed onto his shoulder.

‘I don’t feel very good, Stephen. I feel sick.’

‘If you got a concussion at some point, lad, I wouldn’t be one bit surprised.’ He held his friend carefully and climbed up the ladder to the deck. ‘I suppose I should be grateful your Chimera picked your Other Form this time.’

‘And I, sir.’ Aubrey said, sounding as miserable as he probably felt.

Stephen felt rather sorry for the lad, and hoped that they might get some kind of peace soon.

‘There you are! I thought you’d fallen off the ladder, Stephen!’

‘Not exactly, Will.’ He took offered hands, ‘I thought they were going to tell me you’d gotten yourself into some kind of trouble.’

‘Nah. And Leah’s alright. She’s babysitting right now, and mad as hornets about it, too.’

‘What happened?’

‘You need to see this. I’ve no idea who it is, but we might have a problem.’ Miller took them below, ‘What’s wrong with Aubrey?’

‘Can’t be certain. The Orient shook him up pretty bad, and for all I know the idiot got himself hurt when I wasn’t paying attention.’

‘That happens. You can give him to Jefferson if you want.’

‘I should apologise, I took Jefferson’s place on the Vanguard.’

‘He wouldn’t accept an apology from you, he knew it was going to happen as soon as Hamilton and Whitlock arrived. He said it was better for someone familiar with Nelson to be in that position than himself.’

‘Not that Nelson listened to me, the idiot.’ Stephen rolled his eyes and they paid a quick visit to the busy sickbay.

The orlop and cockpit were both being used for overflow and Stephen hunted down his fellow surgeon.

‘Jefferson!’

‘Here!’ Came a shout from the far side of the cockpit, ‘Ay! Is that you, Mati?’

‘Haven’t died yet, you old dog!’ He chuckled, ‘Can I borrow your skills for a moment, friend? And apologise for adding to your roster of patients?’

‘You’re welcome to it, sir.’ Michael Jefferson appeared from somewhere else on the deck, covered in more blood than he should be, and very little of it was his own. Stephen knew he didn’t look much better, but the way Jefferson’s eyes widened said a lot.’

‘Oh, no, where did you find a Chimera?’ Jefferson asked softly, reaching for Aubrey, who whimpered as Stephen lifted him off his perch. ‘Is he one of yours, then?’

‘One of the Vanguard’s lieutenants. I’m not sure when he would have been injured, he’s been with me for almost an hour. He could have been hurt any time before then, and this is from the Orient a moment ago, startled him right into Shift.’

‘Poor lad. I’ll get him looked after for you.’ Jefferson took Aubrey into his arms, ‘Did Miller tell you what we’ve got?’

‘No, but whatever it is, my sister’s gotten involved.’

‘We pulled one of the Spartiate’s officers out of the water about fifteen minutes ago. At least, I think that’s where they came from.’

‘A deserter?’

‘Can’t be certain. Miller wanted you to have a look.’

‘I wonder why?’ Stephen looked around the crowded deck, ‘I’ll come back and give you a hand once I’ve managed whatever mess they got into.’

‘What about the Vanguard?’

‘I left Hamilton and Whitlock to manage things for me.’

‘Ah, I guess I can use your skills. If Nelson will forgive me.’

‘He’s in no position to be complaining.’ Stephen promised as they found somewhere to lay Aubrey.

‘Easy, son. We’re just putting you down.’ Jefferson said calmly.

‘Oh, it’s alright, lad.’ Stephen stroked the golden Chimera marks, ‘You didn’t exactly tell me you were injured, but it’s my fault for not paying better attention to you.’

‘I meant to, but then Nelson got hurt and…’

‘I know, son. I know.’ He smiled, ‘Be still. You’re in good hands.’

‘Why do you seem to know people wherever we go?’

‘Because I have a broader network of associates than I thought I did, and occasionally forget how many people I do know.’ He looked at Jefferson, who stifled a chuckle. ‘Doctor Jefferson and I are old school-mates.’

‘Oh. I suppose that would make sense.’ Aubrey laid his head in Stephen’s hand, flinching as they discovered a couple of injuries.

Nothing terrible, nothing nearly as serious as Nelson’s injuries, but certainly a few that would require some intervention. To get a full picture of what they were up against, he had Aubrey Shift back. It would be easier to treat him that way.

‘And here, I was hoping I wouldn’t be patching you up again anytime soon.’ He sighed as he helped Jefferson with a cut along Aubrey’s forearm.

‘I’m so sorry, sir.’

‘Stop apologising, Jack. Crios, I already told you. It’s my job to do this, alright? This is nothing I haven’t dealt with before.’

‘So-’ Aubrey caught himself when Stephen gave him a sharp look.

‘What did I just tell you, Lieutenant?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Is he the reason you got yourself involved with the Royal Navy, then?’

‘Aubrey? Yes. I rescued him from the beaches along Westerfell Cliffs last year when we lost the Ouragan.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘Spent four days recovering wreckage and bodies and burying them. No survivors, except for Jack Aubrey, Christopher Andrews, and Andrew Blakeney.’

‘Christ. We heard about that, of course, and the mess they made of it afterward.’

‘Kent tried.’

‘Sure as hell he did!’ Jefferson rolled his eyes, ‘But, eh, we all know how Nelson took it.’

‘He was polite about it, but the intent was clear.’ Stephen smiled, pushing damp hair off of Aubrey’s forehead, ‘This one’s still got his commission and everything in order.’

‘You’re a lucky man, Lieutenant Aubrey.’

‘I know I am, sir. I didn’t ask for anything.’

‘Didn’t have to. Knowing what I do about this one,’ poking his thumb at Stephen, who wrinkled his nose, ‘and the way Nelson makes everything his business if it needs to be or not, I’m not at all surprised.’

‘Doctor Maturin is a better friend than I asked for. Has he always been so kind?’

‘Unless you wrong him, he is the kindest man you’ll ever know. He won’t always show what he’s feeling, but that’s just how he is.’

‘Enough out of you both.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘I think you’ll be alright, Lieutenant. And I know you’re better about following orders than Nelson, so…stay put for a while.’

‘I will, sir.’ Aubrey promised. Stephen smiled and leaned in, carefully kissing him on the forehead.

‘I’ll come back for you.’ He said quietly, ‘But I really should go find my sister before there’s a bigger problem than the crew pulling a French officer out of the water.’

‘Oh, is that what happened?’

‘I think it is.’

‘Good luck, sir.’ Aubrey watched him go, a distracted, foggy look on his face.

‘Get some rest, Lieutenant. It’ll help.’ Jefferson counselled. ‘Shift if you’d like, I suspect that may be a bit more comfortable for you.’

‘Thank you, Doctor Jefferson.’

He turned to see Jefferson give Aubrey a small glass and suspected it was laudanum. It would help, at least a little.

Chapter Text

Content to leave Aubrey for a while, Stephen went straight for the great-cabin. A pale-faced sentry stood guard outside, trying to hide the pain he was in.

‘Are you alright, Mister Thatcher?’

‘No, sir.’ The man shook his head slowly, ‘I’ve already been to see Doctor Jefferson, he helped what he could.’

‘And he’s busy enough.’ Stephen reached out carefully, not missing how Thomas Thatcher flinched away, ‘Ah, I’m not going to hurt you.’

‘Ain’t you a Healer, sir?’

‘Aye, lad.’ He took Thomas Thatcher’s hand and touched the side of his neck, ‘It’s in my blood.’

‘Sister’s one, too. Always on me about taking better care of myself.’ Thatcher grimaced as Stephen found one source of discomfort. A broken rib, dangerously close to the lungs.

‘Ahh. I found it.’ Stephen narrowed his eyes, ‘Breathe in, lad. I apologise, this is going to be very uncomfortable.’

Poor Thatcher braced himself and did exactly what Stephen told him, but stopped short when it hurt too much.

‘Again, son. Again.’

‘S-sorry.’ Thatcher hissed, reaching for…something, to brace himself on for the second attempt. Stephen gave the lad his free hand to hold onto, said nothing about the tremors or the frantic tightening of those shaky fingers on his.

Stephen focused on his Spark first, knowing he would need a bit more of it this time. Sure enough, the second attempt succeeded.

‘It will be sore for a few days,’ he counselled, ‘and speak to Doctor Jefferson if you feel any worse. Or send word for me.’

‘Thank you so much, sir.’ Thatcher said quietly, touching his chest where the pain had been worse, ‘I can breathe again.’

‘If it had been worse than it was, you’d be in more trouble.’ Stephen patted the boy on the shoulder, ‘This whole business is disgustingly bloody, and we all have parts to play.’

‘Aye, sir, we do.’ The sentry shook his head mournfully, ‘I lost friends today, good men.’

‘We’ve all lost someone, and our commanders know we aren’t just numbers on a page.’ He promised.

‘Yes, sir.’ Thatcher stepped over as he let himself into the great-cabin.

It was quiet inside, but not peaceful by any means.

‘Leah?’ He called out, careful to close and lock the door behind him.

‘Oh, she said you were coming.’ A flicker of motion by his feet would have startled him, if he didn’t spend every waking hour with the Chimeras he had befriended.

It wasn’t his sister, it was someone else. A beautiful silver-and-white female tabby, short-hair variety.

‘Oh, who are you, then?’ Stephen knelt on the deck, holding out one hand, ‘You must be our reluctant guest.’

‘Just call me what I am, sir. I’m your hostage.’

‘You, madam, are no such thing.’ He scolded, ‘Is my sister here?’

‘If you think I’m letting an enemy out of my sight for a minute, Stephen Maturin.’

‘For the moment, I think she’s less an enemy than you think.’ He touched the Chimera’s head and body, felt scarring from other encounters, ‘You’ve seen a bit of action, haven’t you? These are old, so clearly my sister hasn’t gotten claws into you.’

‘She’s only threatened, sir.’

‘You have an unusually mild accent, it doesn’t sound…natural.’ He stood up, leaving the Chimera where she was. ‘You speak flawless French, but it’s not your native tongue.’

‘You noticed?’

‘Your accent seems to be a mixed regional. Where are you from, if I may ask?’

‘You’re welcome to ask! My family hails from Fredericksburg, Virginia.’

‘Well, that explains why Leah doesn’t like you.’ He chuckled, ‘She’s a bit opinionated about Americans.’

‘I’ve noticed.’ The tabby shook off, a nose-to-tail shake-off he’d seen in so many cats, Chimera and standard alike.

Stephen smiled and went looking for his sister. She was holed up in the bed-place, practically snarling.

‘Need I remind you, my dear, that our guest is a prisoner of war? And we have rules for the way we are to treat them as such?’

‘I don’t have to like it, and I don’t at all! They should have left her out there!’

‘And this is where you and I are so different.’ He sighed, ‘If it would please you, I’ll take her back to the Vanguard with me.’

‘As if Nelson would accept a French agent!’

‘She’s American, my dear. I doubt there’s a drop of French blood in her veins.’ He looked around the cabin, ‘Did she have any personal effects?’

‘Over there. I don’t care what you do with them.’ He followed her directions to the table behind the desk and picked up a small bundle.

‘Ah, here they are.’ He looked for the Chimera, ‘I’ll see about returning to the Vanguard.’

‘Good luck.’

‘I think I’ll wish your husband good luck.’ He muttered under his breath, ‘He needs more luck than I do.’

The American Chimera waited by the door of the great-cabin, and followed him out when he opened the door.

‘I’m happy to carry you, madam, if you’d prefer.’

‘Wouldn’t that be considered conspiring with the enemy?’

‘That is unlikely, and I will be glad to inform anyone who asks that you are not French and, therefore, not our enemy.’ He held out one hand to her, ‘Come along. I can keep track of you better this way.’

‘Very well.’ She hopped from the deck onto his shoulder, using his arm as a ladder. ‘You must be very used to this, you didn’t even wince.’

‘It’s not uncommon for me to be carrying a fellow Chimera in the course of my duties.’

He decided to make a pass through the sick bay to get Aubrey, who would very likely be ready to be discharged. If he hadn’t been already.

‘Where are we going?’

‘Doctor Jefferson is looking after a friend of mine, an officer of my station, and I’d like to take him back with us if he’s able.’

‘You know, you don’t strike me as a Navy man. What is it you do?’

‘I’m a surgeon, in fact, and the only involvement I have is my warrant. I was civilian until last year.’

‘That must have been a bit of culture-shock for you, then?’

‘Only a bit, I have enough friends and acquaintances I knew a bit of what I was getting into.’ He spotted Jefferson, but couldn’t see Aubrey. ‘Well, there’s Doctor Jefferson.’

‘Funny thing, that. I know someone named Jefferson, and I highly doubt they’re related to each other.’

‘Which Jefferson do you know? It’s not a very common name, is it?’

‘Huh. Doubt you’d believe it if I told you I know Thomas Jefferson?’

‘Thomas…Jefferson.’ Stephen frowned, ‘The American politician? How do you know him?’

‘How much time do you have? It’s a long story.’

‘Enough to make sense of your interesting history, madam! I don’t even know your name, which is a shame, and bad manners on my part for not asking.’

‘The only one with bad manners is myself. And I didn’t think to give you my name, it’s on both of us if you’re going to press the issue.’

‘Let’s get back to the Vanguard, and I will unravel your mysteries there.’ He smiled and waved down Jefferson, who came right over.

‘Oh, you found her!’

‘I’m doing your captain a favour and getting her off the Theseus before my sister tears her to bits. I’ve a theory about it, too.’

‘Bless the man, he hasn’t complained at all.’ Jefferson shrugged, ‘Well, if you’re looking for Lieutenant Aubrey, I’m happy to report that you can take him back with you. He’s about as able-bodied and able-minded as any could be after what happened tonight.’

‘Excellent. I’ll be glad to take him off your roster.’

‘I was glad to be of service, Maturin.’ Jefferson looked around the crowded deck, ‘I didn’t think I’d find you in the middle of this mess, but you never did settle for what people expected of you.’

‘What others expect of me, or what I expect of myself.’ He amended, ‘If I hadn’t gotten involved last year after the French attacked the Ouragan, I’d still be land-bound.’

‘And bored, very likely.’

‘Busy, but bored, yes.’ He smiled and reached up, rubbing the Chimera on the chin, ‘I have a few mysteries to unravel with this one.’

‘She’s a pretty thing, ain’t she? Wonder what her Human looks like.’

‘I wouldn’t know. I suppose I’ll be the first to know.’ He saw a lion Familiar coming across the deck and raised an eyebrow, ‘Ah, there’s Aubrey.’

‘Here’s his effects, he’ll be wantin’ them back soon enough.’ Jefferson handed over a bundle, very similar to the one he’d gotten in Miller’s cabin, ‘You’ve got a way to get back to the Vanguard?’

‘Same way we came over, it should be a bit less hectic out there.’

‘I’ll pray for a safe crossing.’

‘We’ve got a White Standard and lanterns to mark us.’

‘Good luck, then.’

‘Thank you, Michael.’ He shook hands with Jefferson and set his guest on the deck.

‘Don’t worry about the lion, he’s a friend of mine.’

‘Your lieutenant? If that’s his Familiar, what’s his Human look like?’

‘Rather similar, actually.’ He smiled as Aubrey caught sight of them and ground to a halt, startled to see the tabby.

‘Who is this?!’

‘I’m not certain of her name, but she’s in need of our help. Miller’s folks pulled her from the water a few hours ago, and he wisely kept her apart from the crew.’

‘Where did she come from?’

‘That is unknown to me, as well.’

‘I was stationed to l’Orient, if it makes any difference to your commanders.’ The tabby looked up at Stephen, then at Aubrey, who crouched to touch noses with her, ‘Which, considering what happened to it, might be a bit of interest.’

‘Crios, you weren’t on it when she caught fire, were you?’ Jefferson looked at the American Chimera in shock.

‘Aye, that I was.’

‘Oh, you’re lucky to be alive, then!’ Aubrey shook his head, ‘Come on, then, we can go back to the Vanguard.’

‘After you, Lieutenant.’

‘Come along, you two.’ Stephen stepped past the two and led the way back up.

Leaving the Theseus was simple enough, he said goodbye to Miller and wished the man luck.

‘I’ve got an idea what’s made Leah so fussy.’ Miller said as they stood by the rail together, ‘I’m surprised our castaway survived long enough to go with you.’

‘I don’t suppose you know her name, do you? She said she came from the Orient, so that could be anyone.’

‘Well, she told me that her name is Christian Bachelet. She also answers to Christian West.’

‘Did you…’ Stephen trailed off and looked over the rail in shock. ‘Did you say…Christian Bachelet?’

‘You’re familiar with that name, I take it?’

‘Jesus Christ. If that’s who I think it is, we might have a bit of trouble!’

‘Good luck, Stephen. I hope a gesture of goodwill doesn’t backfire on you.’

‘So do I.’ He whispered, shaking his head. ‘Well, goodbye, Will. Good luck with my sister.’

‘Goodbye, Stephen.’ Will helped him onto the ladder and watched until they were away.

It wasn’t until they were safely back aboard the Vanguard that he let out the breath he’d been holding. If his tabby Chimera was Christian Bachelet, then he really did have a problem. For the time being, he would give her a safe place to rest.

As he set foot on the deck of the Vanguard, he looked immediately for Nelson. No sign of him, but he knew better and went down to the day cabin with Aubrey and Bachelet. It was quiet inside, and when he found Nelson asleep at the desk, he knew better than to bother the man.

‘Oh, I knew it.’ He shook his head. ‘He’s not going to stay here, though. Not if I can help it.’

‘We can help, Stephen.’ Aubrey said quietly.

Before he could tell them it wasn’t necessary, he had a pair of willing officers. As soon as he set eyes on the woman standing next to Aubrey, Stephen knew exactly who she was and stifled his alarm.

‘I’ll get him up.’ He murmured, touching Nelson on the shoulder. It took a bit of effort to rouse him, but he didn’t argue about going to sleep in his own quarters. For once.

‘Where did you go? I know you said something before you left.’ Nelson asked as Stephen took him in hand once Aubrey and Bachelet had him on his feet, ‘Said something about the Theseus?’

‘Miller needed my advice is all. Something came up, and I was in a position to offer my assistance.’ He said carefully. ‘I may have a bit of a problem, however.’

‘What’d you do this time, then? I thought getting into trouble was my job.’

‘Oh, don’t worry, you do a marvellous job of it, sir.’ Stephen shook his head as they got to the bed-place. ‘I may have a diplomatic situation to amend, but it will be managed carefully and respectfully.’

‘Well, that is what you’re good at, isn’t it?’ Nelson caught sight of Bachelet, and his eyes widened, ‘Who is that?’

‘The diplomatic situation. I believe she’s one of Napoleon’s chief officers and advisors, but I can’t be absolutely certain. For the moment, she’s no danger to us or our causes.’

‘She looks half-drowned.’

‘Considering my brother-in-law’s men dragged her out of the water barely half an hour ago? Of course she does.’

‘Oh, is that why he wanted to see you?’

‘It was. And I brought her back here to the Vanguard because leaving her with the Theseus would be certain doom. My sister made her thoughts on the matter very clear indeed.’

‘Have I ever told you what an opinionated bitch your sister can be?’

‘More than once, dear.’ He chuckled, ‘Now, come along. You need to rest.’

‘My ears are still ringing. Did you know that?’

‘I believe you. What happened to you would have taken any lesser man out of action right away.’ He got Nelson situated and comfortable, ‘And you never were very good at following orders.’

‘Too much to be done, I’m afraid.’

‘You forget something every time. When I say stay put, that is not a suggestion.’ He leaned over the hammock, ‘If I tell you to do something or not to do something, it is not discretionary. It is compulsory.’

‘And yet, you still give me grace when I come back looking for forgiveness and assistance.’ Nelson took the glass he held out, ‘You still help me.’

‘I always will.’ He promised, ‘You could be the only man in the whole of the world I would rather see dead, and I would still be willing to give you whatever help you need of me.’

‘And this is why I don’t deserve such loyal friends.’ Nelson looked sad as he took the draught, grimacing at the awful taste. ‘Why is it such a vile thing you do?’

‘Because it’s the most effective way to promote a gentler sleep. And the Ancients be damned if you don’t need it more than anyone else.’ Stephen took the empty glass. ‘And really, the worse the taste, the more effective the draught. This is relatively weak poppy wine, I’ve given you stronger than this before.’

‘I know.’ Oh, that dirty look.

He touched the edge of the bandages wrapped about his head, upset that Nelson had been so badly injured tonight.

‘I’m alive, Stephen.’

‘By whatever luck you live by.’ He sighed, ‘I hope whatever sleep you get is peaceful.’

‘Don’t worry for me, my dear.’ Nelson said quietly, half-asleep as it was.

Stephen huffed. What else was he going to do? Not worry?

Chapter Text

Once Nelson was truly asleep, Stephen left. Aubrey and the officer his brother-in-law’s people had saved stood quietly out in the day cabin, studying each other.

‘He’s asleep now.’ Stephen wasn’t sure if he was reassuring them of the fact or himself.

‘How much of a fight did he give you this time?’

‘Very little.’ He flexed his fingers carefully, feeling a stiffness he hadn’t known in a while.

‘Your Spark is dim.’ Their unwilling guest spoke, so quietly that Stephen didn’t quite hear her.

‘Did you say something?’

‘When did you last have time to rest, sir?’ Her eyes, the familiar mismatched colours he had gotten used to seeing in every Chimera he’d encountered, narrowed dangerously, ‘No one’s Spark should be that dim.’

‘Doctor Maturin is one of the finest physicians and surgeons in the Royal Navy, probably outside of it.’ Aubrey said carefully, ‘He’ll look after his wounded first before he worries about himself.’

‘Is he also the sort to work himself to exhaustion and still tell you that he’s fine?’

‘Him and Nelson are the worst I know about it. Can’t get ‘em to stop, so I just stopped pushing the matter.’

‘Huh. Sounds like my father, that man will not stop for anyone’s begging.’

‘Who…is your father, then? We don’t know anything about you, and that doesn’t seem right.’

‘How much time do you have, Lieutenant?’

‘More than enough to get part of your story. It can’t be that long, can it?’

‘Never ask a question you don’t quite want the answer to, son.’ Her eyes narrowed, and Stephen watched her expression shutter.

‘What name do you answer to, madam?’ He asked carefully, hoping it was an innocent enough question to keep her from shutting down completely.

‘That depends entirely on who’s asking. Or what business you might have with me.’

‘At the moment, any name will suffice.’ He sat down at the table, ‘I’ve heard one name from my brother-in-law, but I’d rather you give me the name you’d prefer us to call you.’

‘Captain Miller’s wife called you Stephen.’ She studied him, ‘Stephen Maturin.’

‘Captain Miller’s feisty wife, who had no reason to treat you as badly as she did, is my sister. Her name is Leah Maturin.’

‘Feisty. That’s a good word for the woman. Has she always been like that?’

‘I’m afraid so.’

‘Huh. Well, she never gave me a chance to introduce myself to her.’

‘She’s as biased as they come regarding the Patriots, I’m sorry to say.’

‘Oh, are you a Patriot, then?’ Aubrey studied the woman curiously, ‘I’ve been trying to figure out where you’re from. Your accent doesn’t seem…’

‘Right? That’s what Doctor Maturin said, too. I’m not French, and to be completely honest with you, if I never had a thing to do with them ever again, I could be happy. Except if I was being offered a chance to make trouble for Napoleon.’

‘I hear spite in your voice, and I’m curious to know why.’

‘My name is Christian Bachelet.’ She said shortly, nearly spitting the name like poison. ‘Why don’t you tell me why I sound spiteful?’

Stephen stilled, as did Aubrey. Oh, he was right about her. It was Captain Bachelet!

‘Crios. Captain Bachelet?!’ Aubrey blinked, ‘The Brave One!’

‘At your unwilling service.’ She gave a sardonic bow, ‘What can I tell you?’

‘You said before that you had been aboard the Orient. What happened?’

‘How did I survive? Luck. I made a calculated risk and abandoned ship, I jumped the taffrail and swam.’

‘I suspect you weren’t expecting to be rescued by the British.’

‘By the time I jumped, I was willing to risk it.’

‘You said something interesting while we were still aboard the Theseus, Captain.’ Stephen studied their guest.

‘About what?’

‘You said you knew Thomas Jefferson?’

‘Oh.’ She smirked, ‘And I said you wouldn’t believe me if I said I did.’

‘How do you know him?’

‘Well, you know I’m not exactly French, despite my name.’

‘And your accent. Your family is from Virginia, you said?’

‘Aye. Fredericksburg, Virginia.’

‘How did you end up…here?’

‘Some twisted luck.’

‘We can cover poor decisions and bad luck another night.’ Stephen shook his head, ‘We’ve all made one in our lives.’

‘That’s a kind thing to say.’ Bachelet shook her head, pacing the deck of the day-cabin, ‘I spent so long fighting you, and now…I’m on the wrong side of history again.’

‘Again?’

‘I’m a Patriot, I fought your Crown tooth and nail for my country’s freedom!’

‘You must have been a great deal younger. How did you become involved?’

‘I was kidnapped by British soldiers outside of my family’s farm. They tried to kill me, and…well, it didn’t go well for them.’

‘For what crimes!’

‘Impersonating a man, I was wearing men’s clothes when I was caught.’ She looked at them, ‘If a scouting party hadn’t found us, I’d be dead.’

‘Thank God for your rescuers.’

‘Thank God for General Washington.’

‘How old were you?’

‘I was only sixteen.’

‘Peterson’s age.’ Aubrey whispered. ‘Christ, you were young!’

‘I didn’t see home again for…six years? I don’t know how long I was with the Army, but I saw a winter in Valley Forge, and subsequent winter camps. Desertions, mutiny, sickness. I stayed through everything.’ Bachelet shook her head, ‘He needed…one person. One person to stay, to…believe in him. When Adams wouldn’t talk to him, of all the people who stopped talking to him! I stayed. When he was homesick, and…lonely.’

‘You were the one who stayed with him.’ Stephen studied the girl, ‘And asked for nothing in return.’

‘What could I ask for?! It was down to me and Gabriel Martin! Everyone else was there because they had to be, we were there because we wanted to.’ Bachelet sat down in a nearby chair, ‘I must have known every one of his generals by the time we signed the Treaty of Paris, and believe me, I knew every single one of his French generals.’

‘Which must have led you to…this.’ Stephen gestured to the quiet, dark cabin.

‘But how did you go from the Continental Army, I assume you didn’t have a rank to start with, to the French Navy under Napoleon?’

‘It was a favour.’

‘A favour?’

‘We started exchanging letters in ‘79. We met when I was sent to Paris with Doctor Franklin and Mister Adams. Washington sent me, he said it would be a good chance to see the other side of things for a change.’

‘My god.’ Stephen realised that what they had with Bachelet was entirely unprecedented. She must know more about Napoleon than anyone else! Could they convince her to share her knowledge?

‘I was a lieutenant of the Continental Army, they gave me the South Carolina regiments when I became a Captain. It was the second time I had to start from the bottom with a regiment, actually.’

‘The second?’

‘I’m not sure how much attention you might have paid to reports coming out of the Colonies, if you had any business with it, but if you heard mention of the Hellhounds?’

‘One of General Washington’s toughest regiments, built from the ground up from a band of absolutely belligerent Patriots who had no respect for any commanding officers, especially their own.’ Stephen had heard of the Hellhounds, of course, and their successor regiment, the 10^th South Carolinas. ‘Followed in reputation only by the 10^th South Carolinas. That was you?’

‘Both times. I hated every minute of it, but the reward was worth the struggle.’

‘Are you the one they called The Ghost?’

‘I didn’t make it easy for your generals, I’m afraid.’

‘It wasn’t your job to make it easy.’

‘Then, I had my commission transferred to the Continental Navy by Washington’s declaration and written warrant by Congress. I was commissioned until ’94 with the Navy.’

‘No wonder you got Napoleon’s attention. As soon as he was in a position to change the balance, he knew he wanted you involved. Your professional history, as well as your personal history, would have been very attractive to Napoleon.’

‘Of course it was.’ Bachelet shook her head, ‘This was not the first involvement I had with you on his behalf that nearly got me killed.’

‘You are not dead.’ Stephen said carefully, ‘Though many of your commanders were not so lucky.’

‘I’m not sorry for any of them.’

‘They are not deserving of the energy it takes to wish them a peaceful afterlife.’ Aubrey looked over Bachelet’s head at Stephen, ‘But what is worth your energies, Captain, is resting. Your safety is practically assured here.’

‘But where could I go?’

‘You’re less likely to be bothered in your Familiar, no one knows who you are yet. You’ll stay with Lieutenant Aubrey tonight.’

‘Are you sure?’ Bachelet looked at Aubrey, ‘I can’t put you out of your quarters.’

‘I already have a few cabin-mates, you won’t take much more room than they do.’ Aubrey promised, ‘And I promise the boys will behave themselves.’

‘Doctor Mati! Doctor Mati!’

‘Are you sure about that?’ Stephen chuckled as the threesome in question appeared at a run.

‘Be quiet, boys.’ He scolded, touching a finger to his lips, ‘Nelson’s sleeping.’

‘Sorry, sir.’ At least they had the good sense to look sorry.

‘Oh, who are you three?’ Bachelet looked at Tom, Hector, and Peter, her entire attitude shifting in a heartbeat, ‘Aren’t you three adorable?’

‘I’m Tom, Miss!’ Tom sat at Bachelet’s feet, ‘Name’s Tom Pullings! That one’s Hector Ryan, and the little one is Peter Calamy! Who are you?’

‘I’m…Christian West.’ She looked at Stephen and Aubrey and carefully introduced herself. ‘Are you some of the youngsters, then?’

‘Yes, ma’am!’

‘And why aren’t the three of you in bed, then?’ She folded her arms across her chest and looked down at them, ‘If anyone on this ship should have been asleep hours ago, it’s you three.’

‘Can’t sleep, ma’am. Sorry.’ Tom dropped to his belly, ears back.

‘I imagine you three have been busy helping put things back to rights around here, no wonder.’ Bachelet held out one hand as she crouched on the deck, ‘So, three of the Vanguard’s youngsters, looking for their commanders. Who do you belong to?’

‘Well, Aubrey and Doctor Mati, ma’am.’ Hector offered as she touched each of them, getting shy little Peter to hop onto her wrist.

‘They follow both of us,’ Stephen clarified, ‘And my senior mates.’

‘I see. Back in the Army, you three would have been followers, given the job of looking after the horses and carrying supplies.’ Bachelet chuckled, getting up carefully. She didn’t get far before Hector decided to climb onto her shoulder. ‘Oop. Oh, hello there, Hector.’

‘Oh, Hector.’

‘Nah, it’s alright.’ She helped Hector get settled, ‘I’d rather them be curious enough to do this than be afraid of a stranger.’

‘I guess it’s a good thing you’ll be sharing quarters with me, then.’ Aubrey chuckled as he picked up Tom, who was up on his hind legs, begging to be held.

It was obvious Bachelet didn’t have room for him, but Aubrey did.

‘Are you really?! You’re staying with us?’ Tom looked absolutely thrilled with the idea, and Stephen rolled his eyes as he let them out of the cabin again.

‘Aye, lad. If that’s alright with you?’

‘Sure!’

‘Good luck, Captain.’ Stephen made sure the door was shut.

‘Thank you, Doctor Maturin.’ Bachelet looked at him as she followed Aubrey, ‘For…well, you know what you did for me.’

Stephen said nothing; he knew what he had done and, if asked, would do it again without hesitation.

It was quiet as they went down to the gunroom, and Stephen kept an ear on the cabin next door after saying goodnight. He wasn’t alone for long, Peter decided to stay with him for the rest of the night.

‘No room left for you, Peter?’

‘There’s plenty of room, sir, I just figured you might want some company, too.’ Peter said as he settled into his perch. Stephen had no problem sharing his hammock with the lad, he didn’t take much room either way. Despite the excitement, he was asleep in no time, which was a rarity enough.

Come sunrise, the fighting continued until eleven o’clock, at which time efforts were turned to repairing damages taken overnight and accounting for the numerous dead and wounded. The whole of the bay seemed full of bodies and wreckage, it was probably the worst Stephen had seen in his short time with the Royal Navy.

‘Jesus Christ.’ He was distracted from watching the seizure of the Tonnant by the exclamation and turned to find Captain Bachelet-West had joined him at the rail. ‘Look at this mess!’

‘This is the aftermath, Captain.’ He rested a hand on her head, ‘You’ve been at this business far longer than I have, but have you ever seen anything of this scale?’

‘I…don’t think so. No. I’ve never seen anything like this before.’

‘I’m afraid we’ll see it again, many more times than we would like to.’

‘Aye. Over and again until this whole business is done, until we decide to stop beating each other to splinters every time.’

‘Until something changes.’ He sighed, knowing damn well that nothing would change soon enough to make any difference.

***

The next days and weeks were occupied with different levels of business. Prisoners were set ashore, repairs were made, accounts taken, messages were sent home. Stephen stayed on with the Vanguard and oversaw a change of command from Berry to Hardy when Nelson sent Berry home to England in the Leander. The Mutine, Hardy’s old command, was also dispatched later with further messages.

Among the prisoners paroled by Nelson after the battle, was one of Napoleon’s marked favourites. Captain Christian Bachelet had been offered amnesty by the British, news could be taken by someone else. But she had refused on the principle that if anyone was going to bring news of the disastrous battle to Napoleon, it had better be her.

‘If you don’t hear from me in six days, come find me.’ She said, half-jokingly.

Nelson and his officers all knew they weren’t likely to see her again, but no one said it aloud. Putting her ashore, they watched until she was gone from sight. Nelson had his ships patrolling the shoreline for the next week, looking for her. By the time he sailed from Egypt on the 18^th, there was still no sign of Bachelet, and he left wondering if he had sent the woman to her death.

Chapter Text

While Nelson sailed for Naples, Stephen Maturin had stayed behind. With him, Jack Aubrey and the Vanguard’s Youngsters. They had taken up on the 20-gun Bonne Citoyenne, which had arrived on the 13^th with the Emerald and the Alcmene. Their assignment was to patrol the bay and adjacent shorelines with the rest of the fleet Nelson had left in Egypt. Six days had come and passed, and still there was no sign, no word, from West.

‘It’s been ten days, Stephen!’ Aubrey insisted, pacing in Stephen’s quarters, though there wasn’t much room. ‘There’s been no sign of her, no word sent!’  

‘I know, Jack. Stop pacing, you’re making me dizzy.’

‘She said six days, Stephen!’

‘I know.’ He rolled his eyes and reached out, grabbing Aubrey by the sleeve to stop him. ‘I know what she said. I also know she didn’t actually mean for us to come after her.’

‘But what if…’

‘Doctor Mati!’ A commotion at the door was the boys, shouting and tripping over each other, ‘Doctor Mati, signals! Signals!’

‘What’s that, boys?’ He got up and went to untangle the pair of mates sprawled on the deck. ‘What’s happened?’

‘Signals, sir, from shore!’

‘Does the captain know?’

‘Aye, sir! But the signals ain’t for him! And he knows it, too!’ Tom Pullings was already on the move, all he could do was follow.

‘Crios!’ Aubrey gasped, ‘It’s her! It’s West!’

‘Are you sure?’

‘I feel it, Stephen! Here!’ Aubrey tapped his chest and took off at a run, ‘It has to be her!’

‘Run, lads.’ Stephen looked at the Youngsters and broke into a run himself.

Getting up on deck, Stephen couldn’t see anything from that vantage point, and climbed the mainmast to try for a better look.

‘There! There!’ Aubrey shouted from above him, ‘Look, Stephen! That’s the signal you gave her!’

‘Oh, thank the Gods.’ He exhaled sharply, shading his eyes.

Sure enough, they could see the signal he had given Christian West before setting her ashore to report to Napoleon.

‘What is it, Doctor Maturin?’ Captain Retalick shouted up.

‘Send out a boat, Captain! Quickly!’ He looked down, ‘That’s Captain West!’

‘Aye, sir!’ Not thinking to question who Captain West might be, Retalick turned and gave an order.

Fifteen minutes later, the boat returned from shore and Stephen was standing on the rail as the boat’s one passenger began her climb.

‘Oh, God.’ He whispered, seeing just how bad her condition really was. ‘Oh, what did he do to her?’

The minute West set foot on the deck, she collapsed. Stephen sprang from his perch and caught her.

‘Captain! Jesus.’ He held her carefully, ‘Jack, come down!’

‘Stephen!’ Jack was at his side in a heartbeat, ‘Oh, Christ. What happened?’

‘I’m not sure.’ He whispered, touching the side of West’s face. Her Chimera had taken over and pulled her into her Familiar, Stephen was holding a silver tabby.

‘Doctor Maturin, what happened?’

‘I’m not sure, sir.’ He looked up at Captain Retalick, ‘But she’s going to need help.’

‘Get her below, I’ll leave her care in your hands.’

‘Yes, sir.’ He got to his feet and looked at Aubrey, who looked stricken.

Getting below-decks was simple enough, and he made sure that West was at least healthy. She seemed alright, aside from a few scratches and minor injuries. Stephen did what he could for her, leaving her to rest in his quarters.

‘What are we going to do, Stephen?’ Aubrey whispered as they stood outside his cabin.

‘We need to get word to Nelson. For all he knows, we left her to die.’

‘She came back, though.’ Aubrey looked around, ‘And you know a letter isn’t going to be enough. We have to tell him that we got her back. Show him.’

‘We should tell the commodore. We have to.’

‘He knows about West, doesn’t he?’ Aubrey looked deeply concerned.

‘Aye, lad. He knows.’ Stephen nodded.

A commotion behind them was the boys, coming to see what was going on.

‘Quietly, lads.’ Stephen cautioned, uncertain of how deeply West’s sleep was.

‘Oh, is it really Captain West, sirs? Is it really her?’ Tom asked, leaning past Stephen for a better look, ‘Is she going to be alright?’

‘Only time will tell us, son. If you’re absolutely quiet, you can see her.’ He stepped aside and let them in.

Tom and Hector, who had spent most of the week West had been their guest following her around the way they followed Stephen and Aubrey, peered cautiously into the hammock where West rested in Familiar form. Actually, Stephen didn’t know if the silver tabby was her Familiar or an Other. He had been wrong about Aubrey’s Familiar, it was likely the same for West.

‘Poor Captain West.’ Tom whispered, carefully stroking the scarred ears. ‘We’ll keep her safe, now, sir.’

‘You’ve a heart of gold, son.’ He chuckled, resting a hand on Tom’s shoulder, ‘And enough courage for the whole of the Mediterranean Fleet.’

‘If only we were all as brave.’ Aubrey murmured as little Peter Calamy hopped carefully from his perch on Hector’s shoulder to inspect West. He curled up next to her without a word, but even Stephen knew that trying to move him would be futile.

‘Stay with her, then, Peter. She’ll need good, familiar company.’

‘Where are you going, sirs?’ Hector asked as he and Aubrey left the gunroom.

‘We have to see Commodore Hood and tell him about Captain West.’

‘Can we come, sirs?’

‘Do you want to?’ Stephen shared a look with Aubrey.

‘There’s not much for us to do here, sirs, and honestly, we don’t know anybody.’

‘Very well.’ He sighed. ‘You may come along.’

Finding Captain Retalick was simple enough, and explaining the situation didn’t take very long. He sent them on to the Zealous to bring Hood up to speed, wished them luck.

~

Samuel Hood was very aware of nearly everything that happened within the squadron Admiral Nelson had left him in charge of, the names of every captain and every captain’s officers. He knew which of the newcomers carried their people, specifically, which ship carried Nelson’s band of followers. Loyalists were a better term for them. He knew them as well as he knew his own officers, and why they had stayed behind when Nelson sailed for Naples. So, when his steward came to tell him that he had some visitors, he knew exactly who it was.

‘See them in, Kingston.’ He hardly looked up from the reports on his desk.

‘Sir.’ His steward touched his forehead and ducked out again, returning shortly with Stephen Maturin and Jack Aubrey. Those two were followed, as they always were, by a pair of Youngsters.

‘Thank you, Kingston.’ He dismissed the man with a gesture and waited until the door had closed.

‘There was a great deal of activity around the Bonne Citoyenne and shore earlier this afternoon, Doctor, and my lookouts reported a signal sighting from the beachhead.’ He marked something on one of the reports and glanced up at his guests, ‘What do you know of it?’

‘Everything, sir.’

Stephen Maturin was a man of masks; his expressions were guarded, and it was nearly impossible to get a feel for his emotions. You only saw something because he let you. But with as many years of service and experience as Hood had, he could read men like Maturin. He knew without looking that whatever business had them here, it was hard business. Personal business.

‘What can I do for you, then, gentlemen?’

‘We need to get a message to Admiral Nelson, sir. Fast as possible, soon as maybe.’

‘What sort of message?’

‘We found Captain West, sir.’

‘You found who?’ The name was vaguely familiar to him, and he looked up, eyes narrowing.

‘Christian Bachelet-West, sir. Flag-captain of the Orient.’

‘Ah! She’s a bit late for her rendezvous, isn’t she?’

‘By four days, sir.’

‘She asked for six days, didn’t she?’ He recalled some informal agreement between Nelson and Bachelet regarding six days for her to accomplish a mission inland.

‘Yes, sir. And Admiral Nelson gave her that time. We set her ashore on the 13^th, she did not return until this afternoon.’

‘Four days past her rendezvous. What kept her?’

‘I haven’t had a chance to ask her, sir. She was in no condition to take any questioning, I left her to rest in my quarters aboard the Bonne Citoyenne.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ Hood huffed, knowing there was only one thing to do.

There was no way the Bonne Citoyenne could hope to catch up with the Vanguard and her sisters, they were halfway to Naples by now. And no one else but Maturin could take the news to Nelson. Maybe Aubrey could, but where one went, the other followed, and Hood had known the two long enough to know that splitting them up would be a terrible idea.

‘What are we going to do, sir?’ Aubrey ventured.

‘I’m sending you two after Nelson. With any luck, you’ll catch up with them before they reach Naples. If you don’t, shortly after they arrive. But the Bonne Citoyenne won’t take you, I’ll have to move you to another post.’

‘Are any of our ships going out?’

‘I hadn’t planned on deploying anyone, I’m not sure if I can afford the loss of numbers.’ He shuffled papers and found a log with records of every ship in his squadron. Another list contained the names of unaffiliated British ships in the area, Navy vessels unattached to any assigned squadron.

Before he could try to find somewhere to send them, a ship to reassign from current duty, a shout went up above decks. Aubrey and Maturin looked up, then at each other.

‘Oncoming?’

‘Behind, sir.’

Aubrey was halfway to the door of the cabin, Maturin to the windows.

‘Aye. One of ours, looks like. Can’t make her name from here, of course.’

‘Are you sure it’s one of ours?’ He got up and joined Maturin.

Sure enough, distant of them and coming up hard on their starboard was a frigate.

‘Lieutenant Aubrey, would you…?’ He looked over his shoulder, knowing that if anyone could tell him exactly who that was, it was Nelson’s lieutenant.

‘Of course, sir.’ Aubrey saluted and disappeared.

‘We’d better go up.’ Maturin murmured, looking at him, ‘Whoever they are, we might be able to beg her captain’s favour to get us up to Naples.’

‘Give them a day or two to reprovision if they need it, absolutely.’

He followed Maturin up and onto the quarterdeck. By now, the frigate was much closer.

‘That’s the Surprise, Commodore!’ Aubrey called down from his perch on the mizzen, ‘I’d know her lines anywhere!’

‘Wonder if it’s Ferguson or not.’ Maturin lowered his glass, ‘I haven’t heard from him in a while.’

‘Ferguson hasn’t passed on the Surprise yet, Nelson doesn’t seem keen to move him out of her in a hurry.’

‘Ah, good.’ This seemed to please Maturin, but that was fine. The man knew more people than not, and if Hood recalled right, he and Ferguson were friends. This might just be a simple matter of asking.

~

Not ten minutes after sighting the Surprise, Stephen was on the frigate’s quarterdeck with her captain.

‘Well, you look terrible, Maturin.’ Ferguson greeted him with a hug. ‘What’s up?’

‘I hate asking for favours, but I need one from you.’

‘Just ask nicely, old friend.’

‘I need to get to Naples quickly. Far more quickly than the Bonne Citoyenne can get me there, and she’s not been released from her duties to the squadron here besides.’

‘What kind of trouble are you in? What’s in Naples?’

‘Nelson took three of our ships north four days ago, and I have news that needs to reach him sooner than later.’ Stephen looked over his shoulder at Aubrey. ‘And it’s nothing I’d risk in a letter, or to another messenger.’

‘How soon do you need to go?’

‘How soon can you get the Surprise turned back to open water?’

‘We stopped in Alexandria on our way in. We can go immediately.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Stephen.’ Ferguson put a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to focus, ‘How long have you and I been friends?’

‘Ages.’

‘How long?’

‘Twelve years or more.’

‘You don’t have to play games with me, all you have to do is ask. Who are you bringing with you?’

‘Aubrey, three of the Vanguard’s Youngsters, and…a certain acquaintance of mine.’ They’d left the boys on the Bonne Citoyenne to look after West until he had secured Ferguson’s services to get them back north.

‘Trouble?’

‘It’s a long story.’ He wasn’t sure how to explain West, but he didn’t think Ferguson would say no.

‘What’s the short version of it?’

‘How much do you know of the battle?’

‘Next to nothing. We heard there were a few losses on our side and more than a few on theirs. And one of their ships exploded?’

‘Two, actually. One of them was the Orient.’

‘Jesus Christ.’

‘Captain Miller’s people recovered one of her surviving officers, who was among those we paroled back to the French. There was an understanding that they would return to Aboukir Bay within a certain timeframe, and they did not.’

‘Oh, no, you didn’t find a deserter, did you?!’ Ferguson’s expression changed, ‘Oh, Stephen!’

‘The Orient’s former flag-captain returned to our forces this afternoon, just a few hours ago. I have to get word to Nelson as soon as possible.’ He maintained eye-contact with Ferguson, ‘Can you get us there?’

‘You…turned Christian Bachelet?’ Ferguson’s eyes widened, ‘How the hell did you get your hands on her?!’

‘I didn’t. Miller’s crew dragged her out of the water not long before the Orient was destroyed, and we took her on.’

‘Oh my God.’

‘Please, Rob.’

‘Of course! No, absolutely!’ Ferguson shook his head sharply, ‘Stephen, of course! You need my help, I will help you!’

‘Thank you, Rob.’ He covered Ferguson’s hand with his, ‘I hate asking like this.’

‘This is important! Round up your people, and we’ll get on our way. The Surprise might be a little old, but she’s fast enough!’

‘Ten years hardly qualifies as old.’ Stephen scolded. ‘My Youngsters are older than she is!’ It was true, though, and Ferguson gave him a friendly shove as he walked away.

‘And what point are you trying to make, then?’

‘We are old, Ferguson. Your ship, however, is not! And she’s plenty fast for the job we’re asking her to do!’

He looked for Aubrey, spotted him up on the main.

He stood at the bottom and looked up, shading his eyes, ‘Jack, I’m off for the Bonne Citoyenne to get Captain West and the boys. Are you going to stay here?’

‘Do you mind if I stay? I’ve missed the old girl.’

‘We’re with her for a while longer, you can stay up there.’ He smiled and shook his head, leaving the Surprise by himself.

‘Are you coming back, Doctor?’ Lieutenant Philips asked as he went down the ladder to the waiting boat.

‘Aye, Lieutenant.’ He looked up once he was in the boat, ‘I won’t be long.’

‘Aye, sir.’ Philips saluted and watched until they reached the Bonne Citoyenne.

Stephen was quick about his business, it didn’t take long to round up the boys or Captain West, and after saying his goodbyes, returned to the Surprise. He climbed the ladder again carrying West in a sling over his shoulder, holding her steady with one hand. She had slept the entire time and hardly stirred as he set foot on the Surprise again. It was so good to be back, and if anyone heard the sigh of relief, said nothing.

‘The captain’s on the Quarterdeck, sir, if you’d like to join him.’ Philips said after giving Stephen a hand up onto the deck.

‘Thank you, Lieutenant.’ Stephen smiled at the man and headed for the Quarterdeck with the Youngsters in tow. As he joined Ferguson at the windward, he felt the sway and surge as the Surprise turned for open water and the Vanguard.

Chapter Text

When the sail-sighting was called from behind, and gaining relatively fast on the squadron, Thomas Hardy sent one of the lieutenants to fetch Nelson. He decided to get a better look for himself, but he couldn’t make out her name. Her flags? Certainly. Her identity? That was a bit less obvious.  She had the look of the Surprise, Robert Ferguson’s little sixth-rate, just judging by her lines.

That ship, if it was Robert Ferguson’s HMS Surprise, was supposed to be down in Egypt with Hood’s group. What was she doing up here instead? Her orders were fairly clear. Unless…had Hood reassigned them? He had the freedom to do so with any of the ships Nelson had left him with. But there were more questions than answers. Answers would have to come from the frigate’s, and they would have to be good answers.

‘What is going on, Hardy?’ Nelson arrived on the quarterdeck in good time and in a bit of a temper. Hardy handed over the glass.

‘Good morning, sir. Sail-sighting behind.’ He glanced to his right, ‘They’re two points off our stern, there to starboard between the Goliath and the Swiftsure.’

‘One of ours?’

‘Aye, sir. Looks to be a sixth-rate frigate, sir. Small fifth-rate, perhaps.’

‘Frigate alright, and one of ours for certain.’ Nelson looked at him, ‘Do we know her?’

‘No, sir, we couldn’t make out her name.’

‘Hmm.’ Nelson studied the newcomer, quiet for a moment. Hardy said nothing, knowing Nelson would say something when he wanted to.

‘I’ll be damned.’ The man whispered, lowering his glass for a moment, studying the frigate, ‘I’ll be damned.’

‘Sir?’

‘Hardy, her main. What do you notice?’

‘Her…main, sir?’ He was a little confused by the inquiry. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary on the frigate’s masts, but he knew Nelson didn’t ask pointless questions.

‘Look at her masts, particularly her mainmast. Tell me what you notice about it that stands out as different to a standard sixth-rate’s main.’

‘Aye, sir.’ He focused on the nearing frigate’s mainmast, which had caught Nelson’s attention for some reason. Something about it stood out as unusual.

‘It…seems taller than a sixth-rate’s should be, sir, but there doesn’t seem to be anything inherently wrong with it.’ He looked at Nelson, who wore a very pleased expression, ‘What about it, sir?’

‘I only know of one sixth-rate in our whole armada, between every fleet we have deployed, with a mainmast like that. That is a mainmast specified for a fifth-rate, the ship it’s been installed upon is…?’

‘A sixth-rate, sir?’

‘Well done, Captain!’ Nelson chuckled, turning from the rail, ‘That, son, is the Surprise. Signal out to her, I want to know what her business is.’

‘Aye, sir.’ Hardy nodded and looked over his shoulder, ‘Mister Granger!’

‘Sir?’

‘Get me Mister Hooper.’

‘Aye, sir.’ The ordinary ran off, coming back shortly with the signal lieutenant in tow.

‘What is it, sir?’

‘Mister Hooper, raise a signal to the Surprise. She’s to come alongside the Vanguard. Admiral Nelson would have a word with her captain soon as maybe.’

‘Aye, sir.’ David Hooper saluted and went off, calling for his mates.

He watched with Nelson as the signal went up, and the response from the Surprise. They had signalled ‘Surprise come alongside. Admiral Nelson on deck, will respond.’ The response the Surprise returned was…concerning.

‘“Urgent to speak with Admiral Nelson.”’ Hardy read the signals to himself as they went up. ‘“Word of Captain West, missing four days.” What is that, sir?’

‘It’s West.’ Nelson lowered his glass, ‘They found her!’

‘Who, sir?’

‘Christian West.’ Nelson looked at him, ‘One of Napoleon’s favourites, she was the Orient’s flag-captain under Brueys.’

‘Christian Bachelet?!’ Hardy blinked, ‘How…’

‘Luck, and nothing more. Here they come.’ Nelson was focused on the Surprise. Hardy left him alone.

It was only a matter of patience for the invested parties to come across from the frigate. He could see Ferguson on the decks, but the captain stayed put. He wasn’t the one with business on the Vanguard, but Hardy had no problem recognising any of the people in the boat.

‘It’s Doctor Maturin, sir!’ He looked over his shoulder at Nelson, who stood behind him, ‘And Aubrey’s with him!’

‘Thank God. Are the boys with them?’

‘I…think they are, sir?’ He picked out three young boys in the boat as well, ‘I see three boys, none older than twelve!’

‘The youngest?’

‘Maybe seven, sir?’

‘They all came. Of course, they would.’ Nelson shook his head, ‘Can you see West?’

‘No, sir, but the doctor’s carrying something!’

‘Well enough.’ Nelson stayed where he was, but Hardy knew why.

When the boat reached the Vanguard, Hardy was there to offer the passengers a hand onto the deck. Aubrey came first, grim and exhausted.

‘Ay, Thomas.’

‘Jack, you look terrible. Haven’t slept at all, have you?’

‘None of us have, old man.’ Aubrey clapped him on the shoulder and turned, offering a hand to Maturin, ‘Least of all him.’

‘You found Bachelet?’

‘Nearly more dead than alive by the time she got back to us. She’s…on the mend.’

‘Jesus Christ.’ He pulled Maturin onto the deck and stepped back, ‘Welcome back, Doctor.’

‘Thank you, sir. Where is Nelson?’

‘There, sir, on the quarterdeck.’ He pointed the way, not missing how Maturin held some small burden close to his chest. He saw a glimpse of silver fur and leaned closer. ‘Oh, so she’s a Chimera?’

‘Aye, son. Her choice to stay in Shift, easier for her. And all of us. You can’t ask questions of a cat.’

‘Well, sir, you could. Getting answers is a different matter altogether.’

‘That it is.’ Maturin nodded to him and went to catch up with Nelson. That left him with Aubrey and the three youngsters.

‘Four days, Aubrey?’

‘I think we all expected word of her passing, or nothing at all. She gave us six days.’

‘You know he didn’t want to leave.’ Hardy remembered how reluctant Nelson had been to leave Egypt, and how he personally hadn’t quite understood.

He had figured it was leaving behind a few of their more capable officers that bothered Nelson, it hadn’t occurred to him that Aubrey and Maturin had stayed behind for a good reason of their own.

‘You stayed for her, didn’t you?’

‘Of course we did!’ Aubrey gave him a hard look as he pulled the boys onto the deck and sent the boat back to the Surprise. ‘Tell Ferguson to fall in with us! He’ll stay on until Nelson sends him back.’

‘Aye, sir!’ the boatman saluted, and they watched the boat take off again.                                                                                                 

‘I know you’re not alright, Aubrey. Go rest if you can.’

‘I can’t sleep.’

‘Yes, you can.’ He looked at the lad carefully; he wasn’t much older than Aubrey, but he was of higher rank. ‘I’m not asking, I’m telling you. Go. Rest. There’s enough to do later, take care of yourself first. That’s an order.’

‘Aye, sir.’ Aubrey looked to the quarterdeck, but there was no sign of Nelson or Maturin.

‘Aubrey. Go.’ He gave the lad a push and wondered if he would have to force-march him to quarters. He didn’t, in the end, but nearly.

Knowing better than to trust Aubrey to actually do what he was told, Hardy followed him. Sure enough, he caught Aubrey heading for the admiral’s quarters.

‘Stubborn son of a bitch.’ He muttered once Aubrey was out of earshot, startling the sentry, who just looked at him wide-eyed.

‘S-sir?!’

‘As you were, Private.’ He went back up. There was enough to do without worrying about the admiral’s guests.

Chapter Text

After rescuing Christian West, Stephen knew what he had to do. Taking counsel with Nelson and Aubrey, they agreed that the best course of action, and the safest, was to return West to America. There, she could be protected by her countrymen. In the end, however, none of them left the Mediterranean until after Christmas. Well, Stephen and his associates didn’t leave until after Christmas.

During their time in the Mediterranean, Stephen kept a close eye on Nelson, who had an acknowledged temper and a wandering eye. Upon reaching Naples following the campaign in Egypt, Nelson introduced him to Lord William Hamilton, a good friend of his. This also brought him into the social circle of Hamilton’s beautiful young wife, Emma Hamilton. But Stephen knew her by another name, and admitted that he was surprised to see her in Naples.

‘Are you alright?’ He asked in a quiet moment with the girl. ‘Are you treated well?’

‘William is nothing like Henry, Stephen. He treats me well and respectfully, he uses my art to bolster our finances.’

‘But, you’re happy?’

‘I am very happy!’ She took his hands and leaned up, kissing him on the cheek, ‘I promise, you know I can’t lie to you.’

‘I had nearly forgotten about you, dear, and I’m so sorry for that thoughtlessness.’ He felt a corner of his heart break for whatever troubles she had suffered, whatever indignities.  And they were not insignificant. But she was happy, he could feel that, and wished her many more years of success and fulfilment.

‘Now, no more dreary business! What have you been up to?’ She slid her arm through his and pulled him into a different part of the house, ‘How on earth did you get tangled up with the Royal Navy? That is the story I want to know!’

‘I see you’re still an insufferable little gossip.’ He chuckled and looked up at the sky for a moment. ‘Oh, where do I begin?’

‘At the beginning, of course! And tell me everything about your handsome friends!’

‘And insatiable. Patience, child!’ He scolded.

He wondered how wise it would be to unleash her upon his friends, knew it would be a terrible idea for Nelson. But Aubrey? He might be capable of handling the spirited, enthusiastic girl.

‘And what about your quiet American friend? Why does she always look so frightened?’

‘Oh, Captain West has a very unfortunate story, indeed. She needs a special, gentler touch.’ He shook his head, ‘I’ll begin my own story, and explain how I met her. Will that satisfy you?’

‘Of course! And I would love to meet them all properly.’

‘I will do my very best, then.’ He smiled and looked over his shoulder, knowing damn well Hamilton was there, along with Nelson. ‘Nosy bastards.’

‘Be kind, Stephen.’ Emma scolded, rolling her eyes at him.

So, over the next few hours, he caught Emma up on how the past few years had been spent for him and especially how he’d gotten involved with the Royal Navy.

*^*

‘I always knew my wife was befriended and acquainted with some of the most interesting people, but how on Earth does she know your company head surgeon?’ William Hamilton’s question was reasonable, and only to be expected, but Horatio Nelson at least had a good answer for him.

‘How those two know each other? That is a mystery to me as it is to you, old friend. I assume they crossed paths in England.’ He folded his one good arm across his chest, watching the pair in question, ‘But knowing what I do about Stephen Maturin, she may have been a former patient of his, or serving-girl in his residence.’

‘He would have treated her with the same respect he gives everyone.’

‘The respect he gives women particularly. I have never known anyone like him before and I suspect we will never know anyone like him after.’

‘No, we won’t.’ Hamilton shrugged, ‘I suppose it’s thanks to him you’re still alive.’

‘On more than one occasion, and he takes pleasure in reminding me of it.’

‘Reminding you of the recklessness that could have gotten you killed and warning you to be more careful.’

‘Indeed.’ But he would never trade that for any promise or money in the world. ‘I owe that man my life more times over than I care to remember.’

‘And it’s only been, what, two years? A year and a half?’

‘It feels like a lifetime.’ He felt an ache in his right shoulder, a burn in the nerves, knew it would haunt him for the remainder of his days.

‘Are you alright, Horatio?’

‘A new trouble, that’s all. I can’t say if it will ever heal properly.’

‘Do you know what happened?’

‘Fragments of it. I only remember being struck twice and very little after. My lieutenants were there, and Stephen came very quickly.’

He remembered all three of his surgeons discussing what to do about him, Stephen apologising for him being left-handed the rest of his life.

‘And you’re still not quite well, are you?’

‘No, I am not.’ He shook his head, ‘But there’s still work to be done.’

‘There’s always work to be done.’ Hamilton put a careful hand on his shoulder, ‘Just remember there are other people to do that work.’

‘You know how I am, William.’ Nelson looked at his old friend, who chuckled.

‘Aye, I do. Stubborn, vain, but kind. If you ever change, son, I will tell you what’s wrong.’

‘If Maturin and Aubrey don’t?’ He thought of how close those two watched his every move, practically refusing to leave him alone long enough to do anything.

‘Even if they do.’

‘Fair.’ He smiled, ‘Thank you, William.’

‘For what?’

‘Giving us a place to stay.’

‘You are my friend, Horatio. And we love having guests, this is no trouble to us.’

A rustling behind them was one of the youngsters, and Horatio looked over his shoulder to see which one.

‘Ah. Hello, Mister Calamy.’ He smiled as the tiny marsupial Chimera scampered across the patio and hopped onto his boot, then hopped up onto his left hand. ‘Where are your fellows, young man?’

‘With Captain West. Are you okay, sir?’ Calamy inquired, climbing up to his shoulder next.

‘I am better, Mister Calamy. Thank you for your concern.’ He looked at Hamilton, who arched an eyebrow.

‘Who is this, then?’

‘One of my Chimera youngsters. This is Peter Calamy. He’s been part of my company for nine months.’

‘Oh, Edward Calamy’s lad?’

‘Aye, sir?’ Calamy blinked at Hamilton, ‘Do you know my father?’

‘I do, lad! And your dear mother. They’re friends of mine, but I’m not surprised we haven’t had a chance to meet before. I’m rarely in England these days.’

‘Because you’re an ambassador, sir?’

‘Aye, my lad, something like that.’ Hamilton smiled and reached over to scratch Calamy between the ears, ‘I’m not surprised you saw fit to follow your father to sea, lad.’

‘This one stowed away, in fact, William. On the Vanguard, back at the start of this.’ Nelson chuckled, remembering the chaos that had followed the discovery of young Calamy and the aftermath of it.

‘Oh? Is that right?’

‘Followed his cousin, who’s one of my midshipmen. David Peterson.’

‘Ahh! That’s right! How old is the lad now?’

‘Fourteen, I think.’ He couldn’t be sure of that, but he recalled Maturin had said something about it once.

‘And this one decided he wasn’t going to let his big cousin have all the fun and glory?’

‘Something like that.’ Nelson smiled as Calamy decided to sit on Hamilton’s arm for a while, which his friend didn’t mind at all.

*^*

Among the many undertakings during their tenure in the Mediterranean, Stephen had the opportunity to visit the city of Rome. It wasn’t a very long visit, of course, they only entered the city itself after running out it’s French defenders, but it was a very interesting visit.

One of the museums they visited had a history of the Colosseum’s most storied and famous, or infamous, gladiators. One of those gladiators was a man by the name of Maximus, with a very intriguing history.

‘Why, Jack!’ West whispered as they explored the exhibit dedicated to Maximus, ‘He looks like you!’

‘Lion Familiars must be in your bloodline!’ Stephen did not miss how one image of the gladiator showed him standing beside an enormous lion. ‘Look at him.’

‘My grandmother told me once that far back in our history, one of my ancestors was a Roman gladiator.’ Aubrey studied the mural, ‘No one seemed to know very much about him.’

‘“The gladiator known as The Spaniard was a man by the name of Maximus Decimus Meridius. Before becoming a hero of the Colosseum, he was a Roman General in the Northern Legions, under the Good Emperor, Marcus Aurelius.”’ Stephen read from a plaque bearing some of the man’s history, ‘“In 180 A.D., he was disgraced and fled when an attempt on his life failed. Finding his home and family destroyed, he was seized by slave-traders and sold into slavery.’”

‘Christ, what a history!’ West muttered.

‘There’s more.’ Stephen looked at the mural again, ‘He became one of the fiercest fighters anyone had ever seen, becoming a crowd favourite and a symbol of defiance. He was killed during a plot kill Emperor Commodus, who had ordered his execution and the deaths of his family, but…not before he himself killed the Emperor of Rome. He survived long enough to kill the man who ruined his life.’

‘Quod in vita agimus, in aeternitate resonat.’ West read a quote in Latin that was written along the bottom of the mural.

‘What we do in life, echoes in eternity.’ Stephen translated the quote, ‘I wonder if this man was your ancestor, Jack.’

‘He must have been! Look at his Familiar!’ Aubrey touched the mural, the mismatched eyes of the lion, ‘We have the same eyes.’

‘He looks so much like you, there’s no one else this could possibly be.’ West put her hand on Aubrey’s shoulder.

‘If I can be even half the man General Meridias was.’

‘You will be, son.’ Stephen promised.

Leaving the museum, they found a small shop that sold little mementos and trinkets, and Aubrey went in to see if they had anything to do with General Meridius. Stephen found him contemplating a set of figurines.

‘It’s him.’ Aubrey held up a cast-metal figurine of the general, outfitted in the armour he’d worn in the arena, ‘Look.’

Stephen took the small object and studied it. For something so small, it was incredibly detailed. It was as long as his palm, wide as two fingers, and surprisingly dense. The details on the armour were exquisite, and the care taken on the facial features was incredible.  

‘You should buy it. If anyone should own one of these, you are absolutely the first of them.’ He gave it back to Aubrey. ‘This is your history, Jack. And that is not something that can be taken from you.’

‘I wonder what he was like.’

‘I imagine he must have been something like yourself. If nothing else, we’ve learned that your Familiar is not unusual in your family line. At least one other Chimera has had a lion Familiar.’

‘I thought it was odd, I would get ridiculed as a child for it.’

‘When you were old enough, you settled on a more common Other.’

‘It made sense. But…’

‘You have the strength and the courage of a lion.’ He smiled and reached out, touching the lad’s hair, ‘And this. Glorious mane.’

‘Stephen.’ Aubrey hissed, turning a charming shade of pink. ‘Stop it!’

‘Come along, lad.’ He chuckled, putting an arm around Aubrey’s shoulders.

After settling the purchase of the figurines, they returned to the fleet at Ostia.