"Unrepentant" by inlovewithnight- Hornblower
TITLE: Unrepentant
AUTHOR: inlovewithnight
CHARACTERS: Archie Kennedy
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no profit made.
CHALLENGE PROMPT: Quotations challenge.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is short, but over the 500-word limit.
“My character and good name are in my own keeping. Life with disgrace is dreadful. A glorious death is to be envied.” (Nelson)
And so this is disgrace; this is shame and treason; this is the taste of incipient infamy. Archie finds that the taste is that of stale air and hot blood, sharp where he bit his lip to keep silent through the chaos and confusion of their mutiny birthing itself half-backwards and entirely premature.
Shame, disgrace, infamy, and yet he finds it very easy indeed to cast it all in his mind as triumph. Sawyer is fallen, the ship is solidly in their hands, and if the state of affairs can be maintained until Jamaica, perhaps they all might yet survive this with heads high, necks intact, and the various other trivials kept closely in line.
He examines his soul and his mind for contrition and guilt, for knowledge of personal failure that will haunt him for the rest of his days. None appears, and after a moment's consideration he dismisses it with a shrug, neither surprised nor perturbed. He is familiar with his own character; he has had his trial by fire and he has looked into the depths of himself and seen all that there is to find. He is who he is, no more and no less. He will offer no harm or defiance without cause, but on this ship and at this time, cause was more than present. Cause soaked the beams and timbers. Cause echoed off the stars.
He thinks that he makes all these justifications to himself, unneeded as they are, because he dare not say them aloud to the man who might genuinely benefit from them. Giving words breath is giving them life, verging far too close to exposing truths they have sworn to bury. (Sworn silently, all by eyes; he suspects this is to be their lot from now on, swallowing truths, holding back words that would glint too brightly in the sun.)
He watches Horatio move about the ship, speak softly to Bush and Buckland, shout at the men, glare at Hobbes and Clive. He knows precisely what he would tell Horatio, if he thought for a second that his friend would hear him-- know your own character, your own mind, know deep in yourself that what we have done is right. Do not let them tell you what is right and wrong, never let them tell you who and what you are; that way lies becoming nothing at all, and finding your way back again is worse than I would wish on any man, friend or foe.
He cannot say a word of it, of course. It would fall as alien to Horatio's ears as if he spoke the tongues of China or wild Russia. And worse than that it would cause Horatio to look at him with suspicion, because ten times worse the treason if the traitor did not carve himself up alive for it.
Archie finds that he has no time and less patience for martyrdom and contrition. They have miles to sail and work to do; they are far from safe and sound.
And besides that, they were right, dammit, weren't they, in the end?
AUTHOR: inlovewithnight
CHARACTERS: Archie Kennedy
RATING: PG
DISCLAIMER: Not mine, no profit made.
CHALLENGE PROMPT: Quotations challenge.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is short, but over the 500-word limit.
“My character and good name are in my own keeping. Life with disgrace is dreadful. A glorious death is to be envied.” (Nelson)
And so this is disgrace; this is shame and treason; this is the taste of incipient infamy. Archie finds that the taste is that of stale air and hot blood, sharp where he bit his lip to keep silent through the chaos and confusion of their mutiny birthing itself half-backwards and entirely premature.
Shame, disgrace, infamy, and yet he finds it very easy indeed to cast it all in his mind as triumph. Sawyer is fallen, the ship is solidly in their hands, and if the state of affairs can be maintained until Jamaica, perhaps they all might yet survive this with heads high, necks intact, and the various other trivials kept closely in line.
He examines his soul and his mind for contrition and guilt, for knowledge of personal failure that will haunt him for the rest of his days. None appears, and after a moment's consideration he dismisses it with a shrug, neither surprised nor perturbed. He is familiar with his own character; he has had his trial by fire and he has looked into the depths of himself and seen all that there is to find. He is who he is, no more and no less. He will offer no harm or defiance without cause, but on this ship and at this time, cause was more than present. Cause soaked the beams and timbers. Cause echoed off the stars.
He thinks that he makes all these justifications to himself, unneeded as they are, because he dare not say them aloud to the man who might genuinely benefit from them. Giving words breath is giving them life, verging far too close to exposing truths they have sworn to bury. (Sworn silently, all by eyes; he suspects this is to be their lot from now on, swallowing truths, holding back words that would glint too brightly in the sun.)
He watches Horatio move about the ship, speak softly to Bush and Buckland, shout at the men, glare at Hobbes and Clive. He knows precisely what he would tell Horatio, if he thought for a second that his friend would hear him-- know your own character, your own mind, know deep in yourself that what we have done is right. Do not let them tell you what is right and wrong, never let them tell you who and what you are; that way lies becoming nothing at all, and finding your way back again is worse than I would wish on any man, friend or foe.
He cannot say a word of it, of course. It would fall as alien to Horatio's ears as if he spoke the tongues of China or wild Russia. And worse than that it would cause Horatio to look at him with suspicion, because ten times worse the treason if the traitor did not carve himself up alive for it.
Archie finds that he has no time and less patience for martyrdom and contrition. They have miles to sail and work to do; they are far from safe and sound.
And besides that, they were right, dammit, weren't they, in the end?