Fic: The Ship and the Crew
Title: The Ship and the Crew
Author: Talayse
Fandom: Master and Commander (movie-ish)
Pairing: barely there Jack/Stephen
Rating: PG
Summary: She is their ship, and they are her crew.
She was flying; the sea foamed at her bows and churned in her wake. The first lieutenant was snoring in his hammock, the watch was quietly vigilant about her decks and her sails, the cook was just finishing dousing the galley fire and the Captain was playing with the Doctor again.
She knew everything that was happening everywhere aboard her, she knew when the midshipmen cried for home, when the carpenter had one of her splinters in his thumb and when they were all happy, or sad or tired. She looked after them and they looked after her; she was their ship and they were her crew. She knew nothing else, but nothing else mattered.
The wind was blowing through her rigging and she hummed with tranquility, and contentedness. The sun was setting behind her, the hammocks were being stung up below and the crew was settling in for another night at sea. Tomorrow they would scrub her clean, as they did everyday, and perhaps they would find someone to fight. She liked fighting nearly as much as she liked flying over the surface of the sea. It was what she was made for.
As the crew quieted, so did she, though she never slept, except when in a harbour. She was of the opinion, so far as she could have an opinion, that harbours were exceedingly dull, but the crew seemed to like them well enough.
Aware of the crew on deck, and the Captain and the Doctor in the great cabin, she drifted idly between the two awake portions of the crew. Everyone else was sleeping while they may.
The music in the great cabin had stopped; she rather liked the music, it was very like her own humming. They were speaking now of things she did not understand; land things she suspected, which where incredibly dull. She directed more attention to the crew on deck, but they merely went through their routine of watching, writing the log and measuring her progress through the sea. She turned her attention back to the great cabin.
The Captain's steward had come and gone, grumbling and shuffling in a way that always tickled her a bit. She thought he was a funny man and she liked to play tricks on him, rolling when he thought she was not likely to and making him spill some thing or another. Then he would grumble and shuffle and she would take a playful stab at the next wave with her bowsprit in a show of good humour.
All she knew of humanity came from what she observed from the crew, and having no emotions but those they gave her, she was often baffled by them. Especially the Doctor, as he was not a sailor and often did strange things. But he took good care of her crew when she could not, and he kept the Captain content in his shared solitude.
Currently, the Captain seemed to be fighting with the Doctor. They did this often, which she did not understand, for they would be quite in a good accord with one another again in the span of one bell, maybe two. Unless, oh . . . it was to be one of those nights. She withdrew her presence from the great cabin as the Doctor took ahold of the Captain by his coat and pulled the Captain alongside himself, most closely engaged.
She checked the crew on deck, and distracted the steward by causing some of the silver to fall off a shelf. That would keep him occupied for some time. It always did.
Author: Talayse
Fandom: Master and Commander (movie-ish)
Pairing: barely there Jack/Stephen
Rating: PG
Summary: She is their ship, and they are her crew.
She was flying; the sea foamed at her bows and churned in her wake. The first lieutenant was snoring in his hammock, the watch was quietly vigilant about her decks and her sails, the cook was just finishing dousing the galley fire and the Captain was playing with the Doctor again.
She knew everything that was happening everywhere aboard her, she knew when the midshipmen cried for home, when the carpenter had one of her splinters in his thumb and when they were all happy, or sad or tired. She looked after them and they looked after her; she was their ship and they were her crew. She knew nothing else, but nothing else mattered.
The wind was blowing through her rigging and she hummed with tranquility, and contentedness. The sun was setting behind her, the hammocks were being stung up below and the crew was settling in for another night at sea. Tomorrow they would scrub her clean, as they did everyday, and perhaps they would find someone to fight. She liked fighting nearly as much as she liked flying over the surface of the sea. It was what she was made for.
As the crew quieted, so did she, though she never slept, except when in a harbour. She was of the opinion, so far as she could have an opinion, that harbours were exceedingly dull, but the crew seemed to like them well enough.
Aware of the crew on deck, and the Captain and the Doctor in the great cabin, she drifted idly between the two awake portions of the crew. Everyone else was sleeping while they may.
The music in the great cabin had stopped; she rather liked the music, it was very like her own humming. They were speaking now of things she did not understand; land things she suspected, which where incredibly dull. She directed more attention to the crew on deck, but they merely went through their routine of watching, writing the log and measuring her progress through the sea. She turned her attention back to the great cabin.
The Captain's steward had come and gone, grumbling and shuffling in a way that always tickled her a bit. She thought he was a funny man and she liked to play tricks on him, rolling when he thought she was not likely to and making him spill some thing or another. Then he would grumble and shuffle and she would take a playful stab at the next wave with her bowsprit in a show of good humour.
All she knew of humanity came from what she observed from the crew, and having no emotions but those they gave her, she was often baffled by them. Especially the Doctor, as he was not a sailor and often did strange things. But he took good care of her crew when she could not, and he kept the Captain content in his shared solitude.
Currently, the Captain seemed to be fighting with the Doctor. They did this often, which she did not understand, for they would be quite in a good accord with one another again in the span of one bell, maybe two. Unless, oh . . . it was to be one of those nights. She withdrew her presence from the great cabin as the Doctor took ahold of the Captain by his coat and pulled the Captain alongside himself, most closely engaged.
She checked the crew on deck, and distracted the steward by causing some of the silver to fall off a shelf. That would keep him occupied for some time. It always did.