(no subject)
The return of cold weather was a matter of some distress for Stephen; he preferred the warmth, indeed he reveled in it, with his hot Mediterranean blood, and the icy chill would no doubt bring about a rise in cases of frostbite, pneumonia, and other ailments endemic to northern climes. And, too, the yearly plunge into winter reminded him of his early days on the island, when he was sick with longing for Diana and was entering into his first acquaintance with Death, now long since departed.
Nevertheless, he could not help but feel a rise in spirits due to the approach of the winter holidays. St. Nicholas had returned to the isle, or so rumor had it; there was mistletoe hung once more in the recreation room, and the island's Jews were celebrating their eight-day holiday - in honor of some ancient battle or somesuch. He was not the only one with heightened spirits; there seemed to be a general feeling that they had survived great calamities, and now it was time to make merry.
He had come down to the laundry room to find warm clothes - he had lost his favorite red scarf, and there were dormice nesting in his winter coat. The clothesbox yielded up its usual variety of garments, most of which were too large or frightfully hideous or made of some strange unpleasant modern fabric. Finally, however, plunging his hand once more into the box, his fingers grasped good honest wool fabric, but what he drew forth was not what he had expected at all.
It was a Navy dress uniform coat, with gold epaulettes on both shoulders - the insignia of a post-captain; it was very heavy and very large, clearly made for a man of great height and weight. His eyes widened when he spotted an unmistakable saffron-yellow stain on one sleeve, and he realized whose coat this was. It belonged to Jack Aubrey - the stain had been acquired during supper with Ismail Bey upon the Ionian shore, and oh! how Killick had fretted about it, for he could not get it out by any means. There could not be another coat like it in the world.
Stephen held the coat up, staring at it, and a slow, unaccustomed smile began to spread across his face. For if Jack was not here - even if he might never arrive - at least Stephen now had this tangible reminder of him, to keep for ever if he wished it. The island could be cruel, as Stephen well knew, but occasionally, every so often, it could be kind. And Stephen was nothing if not grateful.
[Stephen has found his second item! He might not explain what it is to people he doesn’t know, but nevertheless, it’s still a very good time to meet him. ST and late tags are awesomesauce.]
Nevertheless, he could not help but feel a rise in spirits due to the approach of the winter holidays. St. Nicholas had returned to the isle, or so rumor had it; there was mistletoe hung once more in the recreation room, and the island's Jews were celebrating their eight-day holiday - in honor of some ancient battle or somesuch. He was not the only one with heightened spirits; there seemed to be a general feeling that they had survived great calamities, and now it was time to make merry.
He had come down to the laundry room to find warm clothes - he had lost his favorite red scarf, and there were dormice nesting in his winter coat. The clothesbox yielded up its usual variety of garments, most of which were too large or frightfully hideous or made of some strange unpleasant modern fabric. Finally, however, plunging his hand once more into the box, his fingers grasped good honest wool fabric, but what he drew forth was not what he had expected at all.
It was a Navy dress uniform coat, with gold epaulettes on both shoulders - the insignia of a post-captain; it was very heavy and very large, clearly made for a man of great height and weight. His eyes widened when he spotted an unmistakable saffron-yellow stain on one sleeve, and he realized whose coat this was. It belonged to Jack Aubrey - the stain had been acquired during supper with Ismail Bey upon the Ionian shore, and oh! how Killick had fretted about it, for he could not get it out by any means. There could not be another coat like it in the world.
Stephen held the coat up, staring at it, and a slow, unaccustomed smile began to spread across his face. For if Jack was not here - even if he might never arrive - at least Stephen now had this tangible reminder of him, to keep for ever if he wished it. The island could be cruel, as Stephen well knew, but occasionally, every so often, it could be kind. And Stephen was nothing if not grateful.
[Stephen has found his second item! He might not explain what it is to people he doesn’t know, but nevertheless, it’s still a very good time to meet him. ST and late tags are awesomesauce.]