FIC: Wonderland part 4- FINAL
Dec. 3rd, 2005 06:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Fandom: Hornblower
Rating: R/NC-17 (there's a reason my icon's smilin'! ;-))
Character(s): Horatio
Timeline: After Retribution, movie-wise; almost directly prior to Loyalty.
Title: Wonderland
Author:
ghanistarkiller or Jean/Evenstar
Read the first chapter: HERE
Read the second chapter: HERE
Read the third chapter: HERE
PART 4
The early cold of the season thawed somewhat as January wore on, turning the pristine wrap of winter into freezing rain and slush. Hornblower gathered in the common room as he had gotten in the habit of doing with his fellow decommissioned officers, ready for a game of whist. The Regulars, some began to call them, and Aubrey and Horatio turned out to be a stunningly impeccable team. He had made more money than he had expected he would ever see during this time of peace, though his honor kept him from winning every time; they were, after all, just the same as himself: down on their luck and waiting for the word of war to come floating back to them on the tide.
He didn't see much of Alice during this time, though early on, she would share his bed and tell him of places and things far away or imaginary so vividly he could not swear that she had not seen them with her own eyes. Yes, it is true; perhaps he had begun to ignore her when fortune had started to turn in his favor, loath as he was to admit it. He was often oblivious to her comings and goings and responded to her greetings sometimes with a nod but often times with a curt sound of disapproval especially when he had in his grasp a winning hand.
They did not skate together again.
One day, the Winter Queen, in her mourning, blanketed the world in a glittering mantle of white; a hard freeze had taken the air and ground and turned it once more into the Wonderland that Alice so adored. It was then that she showed up behind him, still in her mobcap from her time working at the Cranleighs, and looking stunning in her russet colored frock, her eyes like the sea of the tropics, her raven hair barely contained by the white cap she wore. She smiled and the room lit up, her full, luscious lips upturning into radiance. Horatio barely seemed to notice as a whole tenner was on the line at the moment.
"Come and have a skate with me, Horatio?" she tempted him, her voice as melodious as the music of a fiddle as she put her coat on. "The reservoir's frozen over and the sun is out."
He must have growled out something like 'not now' because she left without him, he could not remember and in retrospect that is one of the things that would injure him the most about the whole affair. He lost track of time as his winnings rose, and fell a little, and rose again. Before he knew it, it was night time and Keira was preparing supper. Eaemon arrived home and asked after Alice's whereabouts. Surely she must be back by now; dusk was turning the world a dream-like grayish purple and the air carried a bitter nip to it. She left hours ago. But a quick search of the place of residence revealed that she had not come back there since she had left --when?-- around noon?
Horatio began to worry now and guilt overtook him for his earlier terse treatment; he had actually been annoyed at her for interrupting his winning streak. He agreed to help Eaemon search for her and he was hard pressed to even remember where she had said she was going. The reservoir of course; skating. His blood almost froze in his veins when he spotted the figure lying beneath a fresh coat of falling snow. It was swathed in the tan of her coat.
At first he thought she was playing, making snow angels again, rolling in the snow. Winter was treacherous, he knew this, but dared not believe it. As he got closer, thoughts raced through his mind; she was teasing him, making him worry for no reason. Damn her, why was she not moving?! She must be asleep! In this weather? Cautiously he placed a hand upon her shoulder; she was cold. Tears already clouding his eyes, he turned her over. Her eyes stared back up at him; blank, cold. A pool of congealed crimson stained the immaculate snow where her head had lain and at her temple and that's when he knew. She must have slipped, maybe she had been caught unawares by a snowball. She had fallen and hit her head; probably hours ago.
At first he could not believe it, he spent at least ten minutes trying to revive her, just shaking at her and screaming at her... at her corpse. For that is what it was, not matter how hard he willed her to blink, to look up at him with that familiar gleam in her eyes and smile at him. He tried to pick her up and found she was frozen solid in the position she was in. He had no idea how hard he was weeping until he reached the lodging house. Keira and Eaemon had pretty much at that point given into the inevitable but the sight of her body made both of them weak with grief.
Horatio stayed for the funeral of course, he felt it his duty, though he could not stay at the service so sick was he with the thought of such a beautiful life taken so early and his role in it. If he had only listened, noticed how long she had been gone, had been with her. Damn him, damn him three times to Hell! He found himself mawkishly climbing the stairs towards the room, the room at the end of the hall where the King of Dreams slept. It was empty, no shadows lurked there anymore, no mirrors to other worlds.
"The dreaming is gone now," Eaemon said suddenly, surprising Horatio with his presence in the room. "There is no more dreaming now that Alice is not here."
"Will you still go to America?" Horatio asked him voice sounding dull and flat in the stillness of the claustrophobic room.
"Nay, kind sir," answered Eaemon sadly, "we spent every last farthing we had on the funeral and still she deserved more. I suppose the bay will just have t'come where we are now."
"No," Horatio said defiantly. He removed from his pocket his whist earnings and handed them to Eaemon, who protested at first until he realized that Hornblower was unmoving. "Please, let me try to make amends; let you child have a new life and if it is a girl, name it Alice, please." He blamed himself; he always would. Eaemon nodded, and shook his hand, complimenting him on his generosity. If only he knew, if only he knew it was all his fault, If the father could only understand that.
He watched as they boarded up the storefront that was the lodging house, watched in the freezing rain as the nailed the planks up. Keira and Eaemon were long gone by now; he had meant to see them off but the pain inside his chest whenever he thought of Alice had become all too strong.
He had found a place of board and had had to pawn his greatcoat in order to pay his rent for the first week but it was worth it. He was used to attic rooms, which is what he had been given at the Masons, and found the daughter, Maria, to be most agreeable, even if her mother was something of a lush and a nag. Really, the young girl almost reminded him of Alice, and he had loved her even if he had not done so well.
Winter continued and every time the wind blew the little panes of his room at the Masons, he wondered if it was a snow angel and if that wondrous little angel was his Alice come to warm her heart by his side or share in the chill that he felt when he thought of her in heaven, in the Winter Queen's Palace. In her winter wonderland.
The End
Peace, Ghani
Rating: R/NC-17 (there's a reason my icon's smilin'! ;-))
Character(s): Horatio
Timeline: After Retribution, movie-wise; almost directly prior to Loyalty.
Title: Wonderland
Author:
![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
Read the first chapter: HERE
Read the second chapter: HERE
Read the third chapter: HERE
PART 4
The early cold of the season thawed somewhat as January wore on, turning the pristine wrap of winter into freezing rain and slush. Hornblower gathered in the common room as he had gotten in the habit of doing with his fellow decommissioned officers, ready for a game of whist. The Regulars, some began to call them, and Aubrey and Horatio turned out to be a stunningly impeccable team. He had made more money than he had expected he would ever see during this time of peace, though his honor kept him from winning every time; they were, after all, just the same as himself: down on their luck and waiting for the word of war to come floating back to them on the tide.
He didn't see much of Alice during this time, though early on, she would share his bed and tell him of places and things far away or imaginary so vividly he could not swear that she had not seen them with her own eyes. Yes, it is true; perhaps he had begun to ignore her when fortune had started to turn in his favor, loath as he was to admit it. He was often oblivious to her comings and goings and responded to her greetings sometimes with a nod but often times with a curt sound of disapproval especially when he had in his grasp a winning hand.
They did not skate together again.
One day, the Winter Queen, in her mourning, blanketed the world in a glittering mantle of white; a hard freeze had taken the air and ground and turned it once more into the Wonderland that Alice so adored. It was then that she showed up behind him, still in her mobcap from her time working at the Cranleighs, and looking stunning in her russet colored frock, her eyes like the sea of the tropics, her raven hair barely contained by the white cap she wore. She smiled and the room lit up, her full, luscious lips upturning into radiance. Horatio barely seemed to notice as a whole tenner was on the line at the moment.
"Come and have a skate with me, Horatio?" she tempted him, her voice as melodious as the music of a fiddle as she put her coat on. "The reservoir's frozen over and the sun is out."
He must have growled out something like 'not now' because she left without him, he could not remember and in retrospect that is one of the things that would injure him the most about the whole affair. He lost track of time as his winnings rose, and fell a little, and rose again. Before he knew it, it was night time and Keira was preparing supper. Eaemon arrived home and asked after Alice's whereabouts. Surely she must be back by now; dusk was turning the world a dream-like grayish purple and the air carried a bitter nip to it. She left hours ago. But a quick search of the place of residence revealed that she had not come back there since she had left --when?-- around noon?
Horatio began to worry now and guilt overtook him for his earlier terse treatment; he had actually been annoyed at her for interrupting his winning streak. He agreed to help Eaemon search for her and he was hard pressed to even remember where she had said she was going. The reservoir of course; skating. His blood almost froze in his veins when he spotted the figure lying beneath a fresh coat of falling snow. It was swathed in the tan of her coat.
At first he thought she was playing, making snow angels again, rolling in the snow. Winter was treacherous, he knew this, but dared not believe it. As he got closer, thoughts raced through his mind; she was teasing him, making him worry for no reason. Damn her, why was she not moving?! She must be asleep! In this weather? Cautiously he placed a hand upon her shoulder; she was cold. Tears already clouding his eyes, he turned her over. Her eyes stared back up at him; blank, cold. A pool of congealed crimson stained the immaculate snow where her head had lain and at her temple and that's when he knew. She must have slipped, maybe she had been caught unawares by a snowball. She had fallen and hit her head; probably hours ago.
At first he could not believe it, he spent at least ten minutes trying to revive her, just shaking at her and screaming at her... at her corpse. For that is what it was, not matter how hard he willed her to blink, to look up at him with that familiar gleam in her eyes and smile at him. He tried to pick her up and found she was frozen solid in the position she was in. He had no idea how hard he was weeping until he reached the lodging house. Keira and Eaemon had pretty much at that point given into the inevitable but the sight of her body made both of them weak with grief.
Horatio stayed for the funeral of course, he felt it his duty, though he could not stay at the service so sick was he with the thought of such a beautiful life taken so early and his role in it. If he had only listened, noticed how long she had been gone, had been with her. Damn him, damn him three times to Hell! He found himself mawkishly climbing the stairs towards the room, the room at the end of the hall where the King of Dreams slept. It was empty, no shadows lurked there anymore, no mirrors to other worlds.
"The dreaming is gone now," Eaemon said suddenly, surprising Horatio with his presence in the room. "There is no more dreaming now that Alice is not here."
"Will you still go to America?" Horatio asked him voice sounding dull and flat in the stillness of the claustrophobic room.
"Nay, kind sir," answered Eaemon sadly, "we spent every last farthing we had on the funeral and still she deserved more. I suppose the bay will just have t'come where we are now."
"No," Horatio said defiantly. He removed from his pocket his whist earnings and handed them to Eaemon, who protested at first until he realized that Hornblower was unmoving. "Please, let me try to make amends; let you child have a new life and if it is a girl, name it Alice, please." He blamed himself; he always would. Eaemon nodded, and shook his hand, complimenting him on his generosity. If only he knew, if only he knew it was all his fault, If the father could only understand that.
He watched as they boarded up the storefront that was the lodging house, watched in the freezing rain as the nailed the planks up. Keira and Eaemon were long gone by now; he had meant to see them off but the pain inside his chest whenever he thought of Alice had become all too strong.
He had found a place of board and had had to pawn his greatcoat in order to pay his rent for the first week but it was worth it. He was used to attic rooms, which is what he had been given at the Masons, and found the daughter, Maria, to be most agreeable, even if her mother was something of a lush and a nag. Really, the young girl almost reminded him of Alice, and he had loved her even if he had not done so well.
Winter continued and every time the wind blew the little panes of his room at the Masons, he wondered if it was a snow angel and if that wondrous little angel was his Alice come to warm her heart by his side or share in the chill that he felt when he thought of her in heaven, in the Winter Queen's Palace. In her winter wonderland.
The End
Peace, Ghani