Perfect Duet's paid account and the Oakum Meme (II)
Some lovely person was so kind to gift perfect_duet with two months of paid time. Whoever it was, please pm me, so I can thank you properly. :D The gift makes the Oakum Meme so much easier because it brought the subject headers back.
So, once more onto the breach:
Here at this post you will find all prompts/requests we have so far received on LJ and on DW ( Read more... )
So, once more onto the breach:
Here at this post you will find all prompts/requests we have so far received on LJ and on DW ( Read more... )
‘You will set him up directly I am sure. Killick! Killick there! Here is the doctor, safe and sound. Fetch a fresh pot of coffee at once and a large glass of brandy for Captain Dundas.’
There was a small, agonised moan from the table where Hen, also in his shirt and breeches, now sat cherishing his head. He was covered in a large towel tied firmly around his neck like an oversized bib as Killick had not the least opinion of his being able to remain clean without it, and the steward had no compunction about insisting Jack submit to this same indignity as well. Stephen was given a very sharp look but nevertheless allowed to sit down unmolested. The moment breakfast was over however, (and only Stephen had made any decent inroads to the groaning table, with Dundas merely nursing his coffee and brandy and Jack picking fretfully at the toast and scrambled eggs,) Killick had seized the doctor before he could escape, hurrying him off to be thoroughly washed, properly shaved and re-clad in the clean, neatly pressed clothes which had been especially laid out for him the night before, all the while muttering indignantly about putting the Captain to shame, and on his wedding day too.
By the time they left the inn no one could be in the least ashamed of any of them. Jack and Dundas were magnificent in their gold-laced coats and hats, their glittering epaulettes and pristine white gloves. Their swords, and Jack’s Nile medal polished by Killick to a ferocious brilliance, glinted in the sunlight, and they paced gravely up the street with straight backs and heads held high, entirely conscious of their status. Even Stephen in his sober black had an understated elegance about him, quite unlike his normal self, and all three drew many admiring looks from the local girls who had turned out to gawp shamelessly at the many fine Navy men filling their village. Only the pallor beneath his weatherbeaten tan and an involuntary clenching of the hand held firmly behind his back betrayed Jack Aubrey’s continued nervousness as he entered the church itself, and walked down the aisle, his feet sounding unnaturally loud in the sudden hush his appearance had occasioned from the congregation.
Stephen slipped unobtrusively into a shadowy pew at the back, discreetly crossed himself and bowed his head as if in prayer. In fact he was reflecting on his insistence to both Jack and Sophie that it was his faith alone that had debarred him from either giving Sophie away to Jack, or from standing at Jack’s side and passing him the ring that would act as the perpetual symbol of their union. It was not his faith; the Church and indeed his aunts might not entirely approve it, but he could have squared it easily with his own conscience if he had wished to do so, but he did not wish to do so.
Although the wound inflicted by Diana was no less raw today than the day it had been given, and he would indeed have found it entirely too painful to be at the centre of such concentrated domestic happiness as a wedding, there was yet another reason for his reluctance. It was a reason far more deeply seated and of longer standing than his passion for Diana, even if its form was as yet only barely acknowledged, and it centred entirely on his feelings for the person now standing before the altar waiting anxiously for his bride. The person who, with an eager rapt face had fixed his eyes so steadfastly on the church doors as the organ sounded its note and the congregation rose to its feet. The person whose chest had heaved so violently as the modest, veiled figure clasping her bouquet in hands that trembled only a little walked quietly down the aisle towards him, and who then, as Stephen closed his eyes against the tears which he was powerless to stop, took Sophie’s hand irrevocably in his, and turned away to start their lives together.
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Ohmigod wow! All brilliant, and then that last bit - poor Stephen! D: But it's OK, everybody cries at weddings, god know why.
DO NOT VEX THE BEES!
Probably Sophie let Jack at them though, and that's why they all died, poor things :(
Good on Jack for remaining sober! :D
So sweet and lovely <3 <3 <3
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It is unfortunately all to easy to do things to Stephen to make him sad. :(
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I ♥ Stephen THIS MUCH right now. *sniffles*
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I find it hard not to love them all, but Stephen is such a wonderful friend to J&S.
*snugs him to bits*
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I am so glad O'Brian had the foresight to leave this gap for you to fill: in short: this is now canon. :D
There is Hen, and wonderfully nervous Jack and Sophie! Considering how early in the series this still is, Stephen is already a good friend to either of them.
Your lovely story will be part of my canon from now on; and that includes the final paragraph because O'Brian writes the slash himself.
Thank you so much because this will be a fic I will return to many times.
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(Or maybe I just take my love for J,S & S for granted...) ;-)
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I LOVE Stephen...poor darling, for some odd reason I'm always taking a particular interests in love stories about unrequited love, frustration, angst and the plethora of ragged, jagged emotions that bleed your heart dry..I've always felt so sad for Stephen, the dear creature..
tyvm for this beautiful story! *throws environmentally safe birdseed at J&S instead of rice*
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Stephen is a darling and I quite dote on him, although you couldn't tell that from the horrible angsty things I have had done to him on occasion...
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