when danger approaches, sing to it } stowaway 'verse

[betteralready]

 He hates this ship.

He hates that he hates this ship-- Hates that yet another hope has been dashed by the Navy and its apparent tendency towards letting terrible men into power over good ones. Hates that he could've had a chance for a step up, but instead finds himself back almost at the beginning again.

Only almost, though. He's older, now; better able to handle the hurts that this kind of atmosphere settles into one's soul. Better able to look after the young men in his care.

Still, he hates most of all that it's not as easy for him and Horatio to carry this burden together.

It means he's almost grateful, when Horatio seeks him out with that pinched look on his face that means something especially is worrying him. Archie hopes it's not about Mr. Wellard-- fears that it is.

Follows after his friend with, at least, some of the same easy settling that they're used to.

The moment they're alone, though, he can't help the way his attention focuses on Horatio (and not, for better or worse, anyone else that may be in the room.)

"What is it, 'ratio?"

Or, more likely, who is it that was having the trouble?

Comments

[lefey]

Everything feels wrong, like the whole world is playing off key. It makes her seasickness creep back a little, though there's almost nothing in her stomach to throw up even if she did. As she smiles at Archie's belated tease, her eyes still locked on Horatio for some kind of steady ground, Morgana pales. Her nails dig into her palms until she feels a slow warmth drip over her fingers, which she promptly holds behind her back.

'Whenever you feel up to it, Archie... Promise.' she looked back at him then, trying to keep how much she wanted to curl against him like they were children again out of her eyes.

As for Mr Hornblower, well, he's still by far the most uptight man she's ever glimpsed - though on this ship that may well be warranted. Still, she didn't know what to make of the strange way he reacted to all of this, to her knowing Archie. It was a strange coincidence, but merely that. At least he hadn't seemed to piece together what her knowing Archie most of her life meant: her nobility, and therefore, who would be missing her.

'I didn't expect to see the sun anytime soon, Mr Hornblower, as I told you I barely moved the first four days the ship was at sea...'

There was no need to worry Archie about the fact she refused to eat more than would stop her from collapsing or that the best spot of sun she had gotten was through that tiny window she had half thought Horatio would shove her out of the day he found her.

'Too much risk, your Captain or one of the boys might realise I am not what I am dressed as.'

[betteralready]

"Soon, then," he promises her quietly, frowning softly at the pale look on her face. One hand reaches out tentatively for her, but doesn't take hold properly.

He nods absently as he listens to Horatio's explanation, biting his lip thoughtfully. He can't help but look sympathetic when he realizes how long Morgana's been without sunlight and fresh air.

"Perhaps on Sundays, when all hands are called to listen to the Captain," he says, expression going more quietly blank again at the mention of the man, "It's not much safer than you being in Horatio's bunk so often, but if we only do it every so often it may yet work."