They could die any day, any of them, all of them. To William's mind, that's even more a reason to seize what precious time they have; then again, if this is the sort of thing that might invite danger — and much as men choose not to see certain things here and, sometimes, even on shore, that's not true of all men — then they may be hastening an unpleasant fate.
Maybe not death, but something that may be equally terrifying. Maybe not in Archie's eyes, nor in William's, but in Horatio's, certainly.
Because the thing is, dedicated as they all are to the cause and the crown, our of the three of them, Horatio's passion burns brightest. Horatio's identity is knotted up entirely in his role not just as an officer, but a sailor, period. That's what he is first, above all else. That's his priority, that's how he thinks, that's... what holds his heart most firmly. William knows this. William has, perhaps, already made his peace with it — this knowledge that Horatio could never give himself up entirely to him or to Archie, or to the both of them in some configuration.
After all, this isn't the first time he's had such thoughts. It's just the first time he's surrendering them to the air.
And he's finding that as he speaks, his thoughts — and feelings — clarify themselves further.
To Horatio, though his attention flickers to Archie briefly as he speaks: "I understand the worry. I'd be a fool if I didn't, hardly fit for service." What he doesn't say is such an attitude would be suicidal, but he thinks it, and it sits in his head like a cold weight. "But Archie and I are of the same mind. What if something happens to us with this not acted upon? Wouldn't that be worse?"
Wouldn't it be worse to die with that regret hanging like a shadow on their hearts?
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They could die any day, any of them, all of them. To William's mind, that's even more a reason to seize what precious time they have; then again, if this is the sort of thing that might invite danger — and much as men choose not to see certain things here and, sometimes, even on shore, that's not true of all men — then they may be hastening an unpleasant fate.
Maybe not death, but something that may be equally terrifying. Maybe not in Archie's eyes, nor in William's, but in Horatio's, certainly.
Because the thing is, dedicated as they all are to the cause and the crown, our of the three of them, Horatio's passion burns brightest. Horatio's identity is knotted up entirely in his role not just as an officer, but a sailor, period. That's what he is first, above all else. That's his priority, that's how he thinks, that's... what holds his heart most firmly. William knows this. William has, perhaps, already made his peace with it — this knowledge that Horatio could never give himself up entirely to him or to Archie, or to the both of them in some configuration.
After all, this isn't the first time he's had such thoughts. It's just the first time he's surrendering them to the air.
And he's finding that as he speaks, his thoughts — and feelings — clarify themselves further.
To Horatio, though his attention flickers to Archie briefly as he speaks: "I understand the worry. I'd be a fool if I didn't, hardly fit for service." What he doesn't say is such an attitude would be suicidal, but he thinks it, and it sits in his head like a cold weight. "But Archie and I are of the same mind. What if something happens to us with this not acted upon? Wouldn't that be worse?"
Wouldn't it be worse to die with that regret hanging like a shadow on their hearts?