Hornblower oneshot for Luceti headcanon
This is, uh, "official headcanon" for my character on Luceti. For anyone else reading it, it's just a fanfic. The female OC in this isn't supposed to be very likable, but since it's Horatio's POV and he can tend to romanticize women in his head, this is how she's seen by him.
The worst idea Archie Kennedy ever had, in Horatio's opinion, was the one he had shortly after what in the future he called the “incident with the French girl.” While Horatio freely admitted later that he had indeed lost his head without cause, the incident after the incident with the French girl had been nothing short of a disaster, to the point where neither man spoke of it again. Like every disaster, it had started with the best of intentions.
Archie had found Horatio a woman.
Here was the truth: Archie had very good taste in women, and was very good at convincing them to talk to Horatio. Horatio, however, was awful at talking back to them, and still had only one woman on his mind. He had no idea how Archie had dragged him to this god-forsaken hole, but he wished he would hurry through all the women there so he could reject them all and be out of there as quickly as possible.
“Eleanor!” The acting-lieutenant's voice rang out off to Horatio's right as he stared with grave intent into his glass of brandy. “One of my favorite names.”
A golden voice laughed. “I'm aware of your intentions, Midshipman. Don't you think a lady like me is more suited for a real officer?”
“It's Acting-Lieutenant, and you've mistaken my intentions. My friend is a commissioned lieutenant and even handsomer than I am. He's also in need of a bit of comfort. Had his heart broken, see.”
“I do see. And you believe I can fix it?”
“If anyone can. Are you up for a challenge, Miss Eleanor?”
“I'd like to see the man first.”
“Very well. Horatio!”
Horatio did not respond. Perhaps if he pretended to be drunker than he was, he could weasel out of this. But strictly out of habit, he glanced toward his friend and...saw the woman standing with him.
Eleanor Lennox was tall, dressed in a flowing chemise gown with her dark curls pinned up and her brightly intelligent grey eyes peering from a charmingly rounded face. Her half-smile immediately blossomed into a full one when she saw him. She clearly wasn't afraid to show when she liked what she saw. Bold, dark, tall, and curvy, she was the precise opposite of Mariette and somehow still perfect.
“Horatio, this is Eleanor Lennox. Miss Eleanor, Horatio Hornblower.”
When Horatio noticed a woman, in that way that men notice a woman, his tongue always went dry and tied itself in knots. Eleanor did not blush, but looked flattered by his gawping nonetheless and swiftly made her way to his side.
“Well. Mr. Kennedy did say you were handsome, didn't he?”
Horatio glanced up at Archie in horror. Archie gave him a self-satisfied smile that said, You're welcome! before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. He felt fingers brush his arm and started, eyes being yanked back to Eleanor's face.
“A bit distracted, are we?” The smile never left her tantalizing lips, but there was a strain of compassion in her voice.
Horatio wet his lips and set his glass aside, nervously rubbing the knees of his breeches to dry his palms. Forcing a grin and a breathy chuckle, he tried to make himself keep eye contact and failed utterly, glancing from her to his knees and back again. No words managed to make their way out, although very lovely, apologize, and nothing to worry about were among the ones that nearly did.
Eleanor's wily smile turned into something else-something a little more hesitant although no less bold for it, as she searched his face with her eyes. Feeling like she was reading him, he gulped down a breath and glanced down at the floor. A few seconds later, he felt her fingers graze his cheek.
“This isn't what you think it is, Mr. Hornblower.”
He blinked, barely managing to meet her piercing grey eyes for an instant. “Er.” He coughed. “What do you mean, ma'am?”
A quietly mocking laugh. “You're expecting this to be some sort of consummation of something deeper.” She moved her hand from his cheek to take his and squeeze it gently. “And it is, but not in the way you think. Your friend is worried about you. He wants you to have one good night with no sorrow, neither in the present nor in the future. It is a gift between us, Mr. Hornblower.”
Bold women made him so nervous. Archie liked them, though, and he understood why-they made up for any hesitation on the part of the man, and Horatio was a very hesitant man. He glanced around desperately to find his friend. There he was, in the far corner, exchanging secret smiles and whispers with a long-legged woman with a curtain of dark hair. He looked relaxed and light-hearted, and a smile tweaked Horatio's mouth. Archie had been plagued with nightmares and dark moods off and on since their return from Spain, and it was a relief to see him like this. He felt cool, tapered fingers on his cheek again, turning his face back to solemn, almond-shaped eyes.
“He's a good friend. It wouldn't be proper to disappoint him, would it?”
“Madam,” Horatio said, flushing, suddenly finding his words again, “nothing we are doing here is proper.”
She smiled just enough to show a glimpse of white teeth. “So old-fashioned! But charmingly so.”
Growing ever more uncomfortable, Horatio suddenly stood, the brandy slamming him in the head even as he did so. “My apologies, Miss Lennox. I don't think this is at all a...an arrangement! Which I can take part in.”
Then Eleanor was on her feet as well, face darkening. “An arrangement! What sort of woman do you take me for?”
Horatio could only stand in place, stunned and horrified. After a moment, the woman's features softened. “Oh, Mr. Hornblower. You think the only way you could get a woman is if you paid her, don't you?”
What was there to say to that? Horatio coughed a little, blinking rapidly and trying (and failing) to avoid the temptation to look anywhere but at her. Then, her hand cupped his face and drew him forward. In a blind panic, all he could do was wait...
...And when her lips touched his, everything went still. It was just forward enough to give him an idea of what was to come, and just chaste enough to leave him wanting more. As she broke the kiss, he found himself leaning toward her again, all thoughts of Mariette far from his mind. But she didn't kiss him again, only looked up at him through dark lashes.
“If you were sick, Mr. Hornblower, wouldn't you take medicine?”
He cleared his throat, trying to calm his pounding heart. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
“You're heartsick. This is your medicine, nothing more.” Her eyes of grey glass held him solemnly.
He blinked. “What about you?”
She smiled. “How considerate of you, Lieutenant. Of course I desire you, as much as I desire to help you. Your Mr. Kennedy was not lying when he said you were handsome.”
A relieved smile, and he could feel himself blushing. “Very well then,” he said, scarcely able to believe what he was about to do. He plucked his hat from his seat and gestured toward the stairs with it. “Shall we?”
With a coy smile, she held out her open hand to receive his elbow. He offered it, and they proceeded upstairs together.
What followed was one of the most memorable nights of young Horatio Hornblower's life. When he was hesitant, she made up for it in boldness. She was slightly older and far more experienced in these matters, but he made sure she was not neglected. The act of giving and receiving and the thought that he could have this, even after Mariette, gave him more hope than he'd had since even before Muzillac. They lay together afterward, curled in each others' arms, sheets arranged loosely around them as they caught their breaths. After a moment, Horatio leaned in and caught her lips with his.
She made a little sound of approval and giggled. “You need to have more confidence in your abilities, Mr. Hornblower. You have nothing to worry about for your future lovers.”
Lovers. He cupped her face in his hand and looked into her eyes. “Lovers?”
Eleanor laughed softly. “Don't get any ideas, Mr. Hornblower. I'm not the marrying sort.” She walked her fingers up his bare arm. “You need a woman you can come home to. One a bit less old-fashioned than you are, but more so than I am.”
He'd asked, she'd rejected. His delirious smile faded suddenly, and he found it difficult to look at her again.
She propped herself up on one elbow. “Something wrong, Horatio?”
He forced a smile. “Nothing. Call of nature.” He flung the blankets off and grabbed his trousers. As he put them on, he felt her fingers brush his arm.
“Come back and we'll do it again."
He gave her a too-eager but insincere nod and stood up, buttoning his trousers and pulling on his shirt and stepping into the hallway without another word.
Once there, he took a deep breath, began toward the stairs, and nearly tripped over someone in the darkness. There was a startled gasp from either him or the other person, and he found himself looking down at the huddled form of Archie Kennedy.
“Archie?” Horatio knelt by him, suddenly worried. When he reached out to touch his arm, Kennedy flinched, and Horatio immediately pulled back.
“I couldn't do it, Horatio,” Archie whispered hoarsely, and Horatio could tell from his voice that he had been crying. “No matter how much I wanted to. She was beautiful and charming and intelligent, and I couldn't do it.” He broke off and buried his face in his hands, shaking a little.
Horatio quickly moved to kneel in front of him, peering at his friend's hidden face. “What do you mean?”
There was a long hesitation, and Horatio suddenly understood. Kennedy managed a humiliated glance at him, then suddenly poured out, “Horatio, what if he's ruined me? What if he ruined me for life, and there's nothing I can do about it?” Tears appeared in those blue eyes again, and the acting-lieutenant turned his head away. Horatio could only watch, face blank with horror, as his friend cried like his heart would break.
He did go back to meet Eleanor, but only to tell her he had to return with Archie to the Indy. No matter how wonderful his time with her had been, the entire night had crumbled like dust, all due to the shadow of a man long dead. Archie's venture that night had been successful, but to Horatio, his own gain from that success meant nothing anymore. Later that night, Archie had asked if he'd had a good time, and Horatio told him that yes, he had. That was the last they ever spoke of it.
What he never told anyone was that the incident had made him count his many blessings. Archie Kennedy, who wanted but couldn't take, had made him consider more closely what he wanted himself and could take-and he didn't want Mariette. Someone like her, perhaps. Someone as gentle as she and as intelligent as Eleanor. But Mariette would have been a bad match for him. He grieved for her, but not as a lost love. If she'd come back that instant, there would be no tearful reunion, no promises of love. Archie had given him exactly what he had wanted him to have--just not in the way he'd thought he would.
It was never mentioned again, but it changed Horatio.
The worst idea Archie Kennedy ever had, in Horatio's opinion, was the one he had shortly after what in the future he called the “incident with the French girl.” While Horatio freely admitted later that he had indeed lost his head without cause, the incident after the incident with the French girl had been nothing short of a disaster, to the point where neither man spoke of it again. Like every disaster, it had started with the best of intentions.
Archie had found Horatio a woman.
Here was the truth: Archie had very good taste in women, and was very good at convincing them to talk to Horatio. Horatio, however, was awful at talking back to them, and still had only one woman on his mind. He had no idea how Archie had dragged him to this god-forsaken hole, but he wished he would hurry through all the women there so he could reject them all and be out of there as quickly as possible.
“Eleanor!” The acting-lieutenant's voice rang out off to Horatio's right as he stared with grave intent into his glass of brandy. “One of my favorite names.”
A golden voice laughed. “I'm aware of your intentions, Midshipman. Don't you think a lady like me is more suited for a real officer?”
“It's Acting-Lieutenant, and you've mistaken my intentions. My friend is a commissioned lieutenant and even handsomer than I am. He's also in need of a bit of comfort. Had his heart broken, see.”
“I do see. And you believe I can fix it?”
“If anyone can. Are you up for a challenge, Miss Eleanor?”
“I'd like to see the man first.”
“Very well. Horatio!”
Horatio did not respond. Perhaps if he pretended to be drunker than he was, he could weasel out of this. But strictly out of habit, he glanced toward his friend and...saw the woman standing with him.
Eleanor Lennox was tall, dressed in a flowing chemise gown with her dark curls pinned up and her brightly intelligent grey eyes peering from a charmingly rounded face. Her half-smile immediately blossomed into a full one when she saw him. She clearly wasn't afraid to show when she liked what she saw. Bold, dark, tall, and curvy, she was the precise opposite of Mariette and somehow still perfect.
“Horatio, this is Eleanor Lennox. Miss Eleanor, Horatio Hornblower.”
When Horatio noticed a woman, in that way that men notice a woman, his tongue always went dry and tied itself in knots. Eleanor did not blush, but looked flattered by his gawping nonetheless and swiftly made her way to his side.
“Well. Mr. Kennedy did say you were handsome, didn't he?”
Horatio glanced up at Archie in horror. Archie gave him a self-satisfied smile that said, You're welcome! before turning away and disappearing into the crowd. He felt fingers brush his arm and started, eyes being yanked back to Eleanor's face.
“A bit distracted, are we?” The smile never left her tantalizing lips, but there was a strain of compassion in her voice.
Horatio wet his lips and set his glass aside, nervously rubbing the knees of his breeches to dry his palms. Forcing a grin and a breathy chuckle, he tried to make himself keep eye contact and failed utterly, glancing from her to his knees and back again. No words managed to make their way out, although very lovely, apologize, and nothing to worry about were among the ones that nearly did.
Eleanor's wily smile turned into something else-something a little more hesitant although no less bold for it, as she searched his face with her eyes. Feeling like she was reading him, he gulped down a breath and glanced down at the floor. A few seconds later, he felt her fingers graze his cheek.
“This isn't what you think it is, Mr. Hornblower.”
He blinked, barely managing to meet her piercing grey eyes for an instant. “Er.” He coughed. “What do you mean, ma'am?”
A quietly mocking laugh. “You're expecting this to be some sort of consummation of something deeper.” She moved her hand from his cheek to take his and squeeze it gently. “And it is, but not in the way you think. Your friend is worried about you. He wants you to have one good night with no sorrow, neither in the present nor in the future. It is a gift between us, Mr. Hornblower.”
Bold women made him so nervous. Archie liked them, though, and he understood why-they made up for any hesitation on the part of the man, and Horatio was a very hesitant man. He glanced around desperately to find his friend. There he was, in the far corner, exchanging secret smiles and whispers with a long-legged woman with a curtain of dark hair. He looked relaxed and light-hearted, and a smile tweaked Horatio's mouth. Archie had been plagued with nightmares and dark moods off and on since their return from Spain, and it was a relief to see him like this. He felt cool, tapered fingers on his cheek again, turning his face back to solemn, almond-shaped eyes.
“He's a good friend. It wouldn't be proper to disappoint him, would it?”
“Madam,” Horatio said, flushing, suddenly finding his words again, “nothing we are doing here is proper.”
She smiled just enough to show a glimpse of white teeth. “So old-fashioned! But charmingly so.”
Growing ever more uncomfortable, Horatio suddenly stood, the brandy slamming him in the head even as he did so. “My apologies, Miss Lennox. I don't think this is at all a...an arrangement! Which I can take part in.”
Then Eleanor was on her feet as well, face darkening. “An arrangement! What sort of woman do you take me for?”
Horatio could only stand in place, stunned and horrified. After a moment, the woman's features softened. “Oh, Mr. Hornblower. You think the only way you could get a woman is if you paid her, don't you?”
What was there to say to that? Horatio coughed a little, blinking rapidly and trying (and failing) to avoid the temptation to look anywhere but at her. Then, her hand cupped his face and drew him forward. In a blind panic, all he could do was wait...
...And when her lips touched his, everything went still. It was just forward enough to give him an idea of what was to come, and just chaste enough to leave him wanting more. As she broke the kiss, he found himself leaning toward her again, all thoughts of Mariette far from his mind. But she didn't kiss him again, only looked up at him through dark lashes.
“If you were sick, Mr. Hornblower, wouldn't you take medicine?”
He cleared his throat, trying to calm his pounding heart. “Yes. Yes, of course.”
“You're heartsick. This is your medicine, nothing more.” Her eyes of grey glass held him solemnly.
He blinked. “What about you?”
She smiled. “How considerate of you, Lieutenant. Of course I desire you, as much as I desire to help you. Your Mr. Kennedy was not lying when he said you were handsome.”
A relieved smile, and he could feel himself blushing. “Very well then,” he said, scarcely able to believe what he was about to do. He plucked his hat from his seat and gestured toward the stairs with it. “Shall we?”
With a coy smile, she held out her open hand to receive his elbow. He offered it, and they proceeded upstairs together.
What followed was one of the most memorable nights of young Horatio Hornblower's life. When he was hesitant, she made up for it in boldness. She was slightly older and far more experienced in these matters, but he made sure she was not neglected. The act of giving and receiving and the thought that he could have this, even after Mariette, gave him more hope than he'd had since even before Muzillac. They lay together afterward, curled in each others' arms, sheets arranged loosely around them as they caught their breaths. After a moment, Horatio leaned in and caught her lips with his.
She made a little sound of approval and giggled. “You need to have more confidence in your abilities, Mr. Hornblower. You have nothing to worry about for your future lovers.”
Lovers. He cupped her face in his hand and looked into her eyes. “Lovers?”
Eleanor laughed softly. “Don't get any ideas, Mr. Hornblower. I'm not the marrying sort.” She walked her fingers up his bare arm. “You need a woman you can come home to. One a bit less old-fashioned than you are, but more so than I am.”
He'd asked, she'd rejected. His delirious smile faded suddenly, and he found it difficult to look at her again.
She propped herself up on one elbow. “Something wrong, Horatio?”
He forced a smile. “Nothing. Call of nature.” He flung the blankets off and grabbed his trousers. As he put them on, he felt her fingers brush his arm.
“Come back and we'll do it again."
He gave her a too-eager but insincere nod and stood up, buttoning his trousers and pulling on his shirt and stepping into the hallway without another word.
Once there, he took a deep breath, began toward the stairs, and nearly tripped over someone in the darkness. There was a startled gasp from either him or the other person, and he found himself looking down at the huddled form of Archie Kennedy.
“Archie?” Horatio knelt by him, suddenly worried. When he reached out to touch his arm, Kennedy flinched, and Horatio immediately pulled back.
“I couldn't do it, Horatio,” Archie whispered hoarsely, and Horatio could tell from his voice that he had been crying. “No matter how much I wanted to. She was beautiful and charming and intelligent, and I couldn't do it.” He broke off and buried his face in his hands, shaking a little.
Horatio quickly moved to kneel in front of him, peering at his friend's hidden face. “What do you mean?”
There was a long hesitation, and Horatio suddenly understood. Kennedy managed a humiliated glance at him, then suddenly poured out, “Horatio, what if he's ruined me? What if he ruined me for life, and there's nothing I can do about it?” Tears appeared in those blue eyes again, and the acting-lieutenant turned his head away. Horatio could only watch, face blank with horror, as his friend cried like his heart would break.
He did go back to meet Eleanor, but only to tell her he had to return with Archie to the Indy. No matter how wonderful his time with her had been, the entire night had crumbled like dust, all due to the shadow of a man long dead. Archie's venture that night had been successful, but to Horatio, his own gain from that success meant nothing anymore. Later that night, Archie had asked if he'd had a good time, and Horatio told him that yes, he had. That was the last they ever spoke of it.
What he never told anyone was that the incident had made him count his many blessings. Archie Kennedy, who wanted but couldn't take, had made him consider more closely what he wanted himself and could take-and he didn't want Mariette. Someone like her, perhaps. Someone as gentle as she and as intelligent as Eleanor. But Mariette would have been a bad match for him. He grieved for her, but not as a lost love. If she'd come back that instant, there would be no tearful reunion, no promises of love. Archie had given him exactly what he had wanted him to have--just not in the way he'd thought he would.
It was never mentioned again, but it changed Horatio.