Chapter One
Nov. 2nd, 2004 11:43 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
under_hatchesHere's the first chapter, no slashy goodness yet.
Disclaimer: I hardly know anything about the period and I haven't read the books (I'm on page 56 of the first novel). I'm making this up as I go. Any inconsistencies with the books/ history/ even the movie are solely my fault but have to be expected. *gulp* Not mine. No dishonour intended.
Enough with the blabbing, here's the first chapter, 1.172 words.
Chapter One, in which Stephen acquires a curious apparatus, and Jack is immensely pleased with himself.
Stephen came into the stern cabin without bothering to knock on the door. Jack looked up from a myriade of papers, and smiled widely.
“My dear doctor!” he cried.
Stephen raised a hand to stop him from talking and Jack obeyed instantly. He shut his mouth again and blinked at the flustered man expectantly.
“I found a most curious apparatus on my desk. Do you have any idea who could have put it there,” Stephen inquired.
“Why, yes, of course. I did.” When the doctor merely raised an eyebrow, Jack continued: “You seemed downcast ever since that last storm swept away half of your precious plants; those suckling plants you got in South Africa if I remember correctly.”
”The succulent plants were nibbled at by rats. The lichens were the ones ruined by salt water. I had hoped to make an ointment out of them but they got spoilt before I had the change to experiment with them.”
“Ah,” Aubrey said, “See? How unfortunate. For you and for my men to whom your ointment may have proven advantageous. That’s why I got you this… curious… this box. I was told it’s for transporting plants that need to be kept moist and at an even temperature, not to say slightly warm. The glass on top apparently protects them from temperature drops. As long as we don’t sail through ice your plants should be fine. There is some kind of special pergament, which came with the box, to separate different kinds of plants. And in that envelope beneath your box, there is some other paper which greatly helps drying herbs. Or so I was told.”
There was a moment of silence between them, and Jack shifted uneasily.
“I heard it would be much better than carrying plants in a dried ox bladder,” Jack added hopefully.
Stephen regarded him for a moment, his head cocked to the right, as if listening to some distant tune.
“I don’t know what to say,” he then admitted slowly, stressing each word.
“A ‘thank you’ would make a very good start,” Jack grinned.
“Indeed, thank you. It means very much to me.”
“Will you join me for dinner tonight?”
“Yes, certainly. I’d enjoy that very much.”
“Set then,” Jack nodded and looked back at his papers, “I hope you don’t mind, my dear doctor, but I have to direct my attention to less pleasurable affairs now. There are lists that need signing. And I’ll be damned if I sign anything I haven’t gone over. Especially not figures. The accounts of this lovely ship may be a tiring task but still essential. If you excuse me now.”
Jack went back to scraping figures down onto a piece of parchment blotted with ink. He barely looked up to see Stephen leaving the room quietly, and when the door clicked into the lock, he smiled contently and put away his quill.
Jack leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his chest. He looked out of the window without seeing the sea or the sky, the sly smile never leaving his face.
Stephen went straight back to his small chamber and the desk that sat there. On it stood the wooden box that had excited him beyond words when he had discovered it. It was 19 by 10 inches, finely crafted with brass hinges and fasteners that kept the glass lid in place. Stephen carefully opened it and took out the pergament. He let his fingers caress the surface before placing it aside. The inside was smooth and dry, the wood sealed by a layer of paraffin wax. Stephen picked it up and turned it in the lamplight. It appeared to have never been used.
“What a fine gift,” he said to himself, “What a splendid gift and nice surprise indeed.”
He placed the pergament back inside and retrieved the envelope. On the upper left corner was a faded stamp in a light blue. Stephen put on his glasses and still had to squint to read it. In the dim light he could make out ‘herba’ and was taken aback by the thought of Jack Aubrey marching into a town with inquiries about the transport and care of herbs.
Stephen broke the seal and flattened the paper. He shook one of the many papers loose and stared at it for the most part of a minute.
“Marvelous,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he meant the paper or the way it had come to his desk. He skillfully folded one sheet into a herbarium’s envelope. Creasing the edges with the nail of his thumb he produced three of that kind, and filled them with what little was left of his lichens.
It was true, he had been in an exceptionally bad mood after he had discovered that sea water had rendered the loot of his last visit on shore useless. The succulents weren’t as bad a loss. He merely had hoped to maybe sell them or cultivate them once he was back on shore. The rats had bitten deep into the flesh of most plants though, and Stephen had been too dishearted to try and find a safer storing place for the remaining ones. The men had tried to coax him into leaving the plants to them, for distilling the alcohol Stephen guessed. He had greatly frowned upon their greed for schnapps and had lectured them about the dangers of diseases carried by rats. The succulents had been thrown overboard to the dismay of both Stephen and the crew.
Stephen placed the envelopes into a drawer and leaned back to look at the box again. He wondered if it really could keep the promises some skillful vender had applied to it. The construction was promising enough, with its delicate ornaments and solid workmanship. His patience was going to be tested in the weeks or maybe months until his next shore leave. Yet he felt strangely content and almost giddy at the prospect of spending the evening with Jack.
Following a sudden notion he hugged the box to his chest before stowing it away. He sat down at his desk again and meant to make an inventory of ointments and medication that needed to be replaced, but he found his mind wandering back to the unexpected gift Jack had made him.
After three items on his list, he caved and fetched the box. He let his hands glide over it, worrying what the next storm might do to it. He felt the heat rising in his face at such childish thoughts, and even more so when he saw Killick standing in the doorway to call him.
Stephen wrapped the box in a spare piece of cloth and raised his eyebrows indignantly.
“I’m on my way,” he said briskly to Killick, brushing at his clothes, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Stephen slipped into his jacket and followed the muttering steward to the stern cabin.
Disclaimer: I hardly know anything about the period and I haven't read the books (I'm on page 56 of the first novel). I'm making this up as I go. Any inconsistencies with the books/ history/ even the movie are solely my fault but have to be expected. *gulp* Not mine. No dishonour intended.
Enough with the blabbing, here's the first chapter, 1.172 words.
Chapter One, in which Stephen acquires a curious apparatus, and Jack is immensely pleased with himself.
Stephen came into the stern cabin without bothering to knock on the door. Jack looked up from a myriade of papers, and smiled widely.
“My dear doctor!” he cried.
Stephen raised a hand to stop him from talking and Jack obeyed instantly. He shut his mouth again and blinked at the flustered man expectantly.
“I found a most curious apparatus on my desk. Do you have any idea who could have put it there,” Stephen inquired.
“Why, yes, of course. I did.” When the doctor merely raised an eyebrow, Jack continued: “You seemed downcast ever since that last storm swept away half of your precious plants; those suckling plants you got in South Africa if I remember correctly.”
”The succulent plants were nibbled at by rats. The lichens were the ones ruined by salt water. I had hoped to make an ointment out of them but they got spoilt before I had the change to experiment with them.”
“Ah,” Aubrey said, “See? How unfortunate. For you and for my men to whom your ointment may have proven advantageous. That’s why I got you this… curious… this box. I was told it’s for transporting plants that need to be kept moist and at an even temperature, not to say slightly warm. The glass on top apparently protects them from temperature drops. As long as we don’t sail through ice your plants should be fine. There is some kind of special pergament, which came with the box, to separate different kinds of plants. And in that envelope beneath your box, there is some other paper which greatly helps drying herbs. Or so I was told.”
There was a moment of silence between them, and Jack shifted uneasily.
“I heard it would be much better than carrying plants in a dried ox bladder,” Jack added hopefully.
Stephen regarded him for a moment, his head cocked to the right, as if listening to some distant tune.
“I don’t know what to say,” he then admitted slowly, stressing each word.
“A ‘thank you’ would make a very good start,” Jack grinned.
“Indeed, thank you. It means very much to me.”
“Will you join me for dinner tonight?”
“Yes, certainly. I’d enjoy that very much.”
“Set then,” Jack nodded and looked back at his papers, “I hope you don’t mind, my dear doctor, but I have to direct my attention to less pleasurable affairs now. There are lists that need signing. And I’ll be damned if I sign anything I haven’t gone over. Especially not figures. The accounts of this lovely ship may be a tiring task but still essential. If you excuse me now.”
Jack went back to scraping figures down onto a piece of parchment blotted with ink. He barely looked up to see Stephen leaving the room quietly, and when the door clicked into the lock, he smiled contently and put away his quill.
Jack leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over his chest. He looked out of the window without seeing the sea or the sky, the sly smile never leaving his face.
Stephen went straight back to his small chamber and the desk that sat there. On it stood the wooden box that had excited him beyond words when he had discovered it. It was 19 by 10 inches, finely crafted with brass hinges and fasteners that kept the glass lid in place. Stephen carefully opened it and took out the pergament. He let his fingers caress the surface before placing it aside. The inside was smooth and dry, the wood sealed by a layer of paraffin wax. Stephen picked it up and turned it in the lamplight. It appeared to have never been used.
“What a fine gift,” he said to himself, “What a splendid gift and nice surprise indeed.”
He placed the pergament back inside and retrieved the envelope. On the upper left corner was a faded stamp in a light blue. Stephen put on his glasses and still had to squint to read it. In the dim light he could make out ‘herba’ and was taken aback by the thought of Jack Aubrey marching into a town with inquiries about the transport and care of herbs.
Stephen broke the seal and flattened the paper. He shook one of the many papers loose and stared at it for the most part of a minute.
“Marvelous,” he said. He wasn’t sure if he meant the paper or the way it had come to his desk. He skillfully folded one sheet into a herbarium’s envelope. Creasing the edges with the nail of his thumb he produced three of that kind, and filled them with what little was left of his lichens.
It was true, he had been in an exceptionally bad mood after he had discovered that sea water had rendered the loot of his last visit on shore useless. The succulents weren’t as bad a loss. He merely had hoped to maybe sell them or cultivate them once he was back on shore. The rats had bitten deep into the flesh of most plants though, and Stephen had been too dishearted to try and find a safer storing place for the remaining ones. The men had tried to coax him into leaving the plants to them, for distilling the alcohol Stephen guessed. He had greatly frowned upon their greed for schnapps and had lectured them about the dangers of diseases carried by rats. The succulents had been thrown overboard to the dismay of both Stephen and the crew.
Stephen placed the envelopes into a drawer and leaned back to look at the box again. He wondered if it really could keep the promises some skillful vender had applied to it. The construction was promising enough, with its delicate ornaments and solid workmanship. His patience was going to be tested in the weeks or maybe months until his next shore leave. Yet he felt strangely content and almost giddy at the prospect of spending the evening with Jack.
Following a sudden notion he hugged the box to his chest before stowing it away. He sat down at his desk again and meant to make an inventory of ointments and medication that needed to be replaced, but he found his mind wandering back to the unexpected gift Jack had made him.
After three items on his list, he caved and fetched the box. He let his hands glide over it, worrying what the next storm might do to it. He felt the heat rising in his face at such childish thoughts, and even more so when he saw Killick standing in the doorway to call him.
Stephen wrapped the box in a spare piece of cloth and raised his eyebrows indignantly.
“I’m on my way,” he said briskly to Killick, brushing at his clothes, “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Stephen slipped into his jacket and followed the muttering steward to the stern cabin.
