|Agent Fox Mulder (i_want_2) wrote in multi_fiction,|
@ 2008-10-07 17:38:00
|Entry tags:||het, hornblower, rated: adult|
Fic: Unfriendly Politics 1/1 Horatio Hornblower
Title: Unfriendly Politics
By: Lopaka Tanu
Fandom: Horatio Hornblower
Characters: Mid. Edward Pellew, OMC.
Disclaimer: I do not claim any ownership of Horatio Hornblower.
Prompt: 35 Sneer
Summary: The year was 1775 and a young Middie was abandoned at Marseille after a fight with his Captain.
Author's Note: The beginning of an AU.
"Certainty of anything is a lie, mon cher." Draping her arms around Francis Donigal, Fiona Louisa Kennedy laid herself out over the young man. She slowly blew the hair from her face. With a shy glance up from under her lowered brow, she smiled for him.
Across from the now grinning couple, Edward Pellew scowled in distaste. What had been a pleasant conversation with the son of his father's old friend had been rudely interrupted by this French whore. "Be that as it may, Ms. Kennedy, the odds of war with the Colonies is great."
"And I am sure you shall endeavor to crush this nuisance of a rebellion, yet again." Tweaking Francis' nose, Fiona let her gaze lazily sweep over his shoulder to Edward. Her heavily lidded eyes shown with anger. All traces of a French accent drained from her next words. "My family is all too well acquainted with the results of such an action, Mr. Pellew!"
"I am afraid I can claim no understanding of your meaning." Edward turned to Francis for assistance. "What is she blathering about?"
"Careful, Eddie, my father may be the captain, but her's owns the boat." With a sigh at having to give up his little game with Fiona, Francis let her slide from his lap in to her own chair. The rocking of the boat made this move easy and he was grateful that it hid certain obvious reactions. Turning to Edward, he took a bemused approach to his guest and bedmate's conversation. "Her father is the former Marquis L'Riouxette."
"Former only because that bastard of a king signed away our lands and our titles to my Spanish cousins!" Slamming her fist down on the table, she scattered a smattering of dishes and dried food. "By right, I should be the next Marquise De Reis!"
"How unfortunate." Picking up his napkin, Edward wiped his chin and tossed it at what was left of his dinner. He could piece together what the French tart was going on about from their words. "Did you lose your business in New Orleans as well, or was it just the lands?" He was hoping it was both, nothing would make him happier.
"Just the lands." Seemingly placated, she turned her attentions back to Francis. Hefting her bosom, she puckered out her lips. "Francis, I am upset, make me happy."
With a growl of disgust, Edward stormed away from the Midshipman's mess. The air was surely less polluted in other parts of the ship, like the animal creche.
Leaning in to the winds as the waves tossed the boat's bow about, Edward prayed his rain hood would remain in place. Nothing would be more unpleasant at the moment. The next moment he was kicking himself as even in the storm, the strong stench of French perfume could be smelled across the deck. Twisting towards the rear hatch, he squinted to locate the source and promptly throttle her. That whore had no place upon the deck of this ship.
To his surprise, it wasn't Fiona that appeared but Francis. But that resolved itself in to a simmering anger. The boy had no self control where Fiona was concerned. Turning away from his fellow Midshipman, Edward continued to scan the seas for any ships. He had no official duties as a temporary crewman, still he had to carry the rotation.
Clutching his coat, Francis stood beside Edward, or tried to. The waves tossed him against the rails and he promptly slid down the deck back towards the hatch. With a cry of shock, he was washed in to the hold.
Turning back up his collar, Edward snorted. "Good riddance."
When he was first kicked off his ship by the Captain, Edward had been too furious and distraught to consider if he would ever get home again. Two days later he had been counting his blessings at being given a berth aboard the Magnolia. It was a good trade, food and transportation to Lisbon in return for his services. He had thought it would expand his sphere of future influence and sea experience.
In reality, he was counting the days until they reached Lisbon. Once there, he would receive his new orders, and hopefully, a position on a ship with a respectable captain and crew. A week out from Lisbon and he was ready to throw himself in to the sea and let it take him.
The night before, he had gotten no sleep in thanks to the French Whore and her Scottish Dog. If they weren't shamelessly rutting on the decks like wild animals, they were bawdily laughing their way to another location to fornicate. As the son of the captain, it should have been Francis' duty to maintain a certain decorum. Instead he played the part of the spoilt wastrel to the hilt.
One week, one week and Civilian Edward Pellew would once again be Mr. Midshipman Edward Pellew of His Majesty's Royal Navy. One week, that was all he had left to endure the screeching and cackling. One week, one forth the turn of the moon. One week, one week, one week!
Moaning and giggling echoed through the midshipman's berth.
"By god, I am going to kill them both!"
Siting in the bow of the long boat, Edward Pellew, once again Midshipman Edward Pellew, breathed in the salty air with relief. Having survived his final few days aboard the merchant ship Magnolia in confinement, he felt renewed vigor. At least his place in the hold among the animals had smelled pleasant in comparison to Fiona's much beloved French Piss in a Bottle, as he had coined it. Lisbon was the most beautiful port he had ever witnessed, his rescuers grand knights of an old order.
In reality, they were seamen of the questionable sort, but they were employed by the Royal Navy and he had little reason to suspect them. His chest was still locked, never having been opened during his two month voyage from Marseille. Inside was his uniform and all his possessions. Despite his pleasure at being back among compatriots, he wasn't foolish enough to open it around them.
He felt a pang of sorrow for the captain of the Magnolia. He had been a fine man, but to be cursed with such a son, it must have been very taxing. Edward was not in the least apologetic for his actions involving said boy or his mistress. As a man engaged, he had been behaving most disrespectfully to his future wife. Perhaps, as he recuperated from his injuries, he would think on that.
As for that whore Fiona, Edward Pellew only hoped it was the last he ever saw of Ms. Kennedy and her disgustingly French family.