#rn au

[devilishdj]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

Hi guys! I’ve finally published the first chapter of my fnaf fic that I’ve been working on for years now! I hope you like it!

[kivrinengle]

They Also Serve

STOP ENABLING ME, PEOPLE! 

Ahem. Kurt/Blaine-ish eighteenth century naval mishaps. Vague and careful implications, as befits the setting. 

Kurt Hummel, Midshipman, stood at the stern of the Neptune, straight and tall as befitted an officer, and watched the play of the moonlight on the waves. A fine clear night, and one which would usually have been entirely to his liking, but he could take no joy in it now. He dashed his hands quickly across his eyes as the creak of timber alerted him to the approach of another man from behind. The Captain himself, damn his luck. He nodded respectfully, hand darting to the brim of his hat in a salute, but the Captain waved the formality aside, taking up a position at Kurt’s left by the rail.

“It is no dishonor to mourn a fellow officer,” Captain Dewhurst said quietly, placing his hands calmly behind his back. He did not look at Kurt, but stared out into the vast expanse of sea and sky. “Nor a friend.”

“Your pardon, sir,” Kurt said, tempering the bite of annoyance in his tone with all the respect he could summon up. “But I do not mourn him. He is yet alive, I am certain of it.”

Dewhurst turned to him then, and eyed him closely; Kurt tried to stand straighter under the penetrating stare. His fingers toyed restlessly with the hem of his coat, and he clasped them firmly on the taffrail to still them. After a moment, Dewhurst gave a slight, crooked smile, and turned back to the sea. “You are most confident in your friend, Mr. Hummel. I trust he has given you reason.”

“Yes, sir,” Kurt breathed, the memory of a thousand moments washing over him in a rush. Their first meeting, both of them young and frightened, as Blaine welcomed him aboard ship. Kurt had done his best to keep up with the stream of cheery chatter as Blaine led him to the midshipman’s berth, but it was a rush of new sights and sounds and smells, and all that stood out was the warm smile and kind eyes of his guide. Lessons together on the deck of the ship, Kurt struggling with the mathematics of complicated navigation problems while Blaine’s chalk flew easily across his board. Blaine, so confident and poised, reduced to silent heaves when the first storm had hit in their Channel crossing, and all Kurt had been able to do was stand by him and offer support. They’d learned to climb the rigging together, racing up toward light and freedom, and stood at the mizzen topmast, bathed in sunlight and the fresh breeze blowing in from the south, and Blaine’s hand had crept over his, steady but unsure. They had fought side by side, teaching one another to be brave – and now that bravery was likely to see Blaine killed or imprisoned for the rest of the war.

“Well then,” Dewhurst said firmly, “I shall not question your judgment. Mr. Anderson has been a credit to the service, much like yourself, and if we are to win this war, we will need every man. I am certain he will do everything in his power to rejoin us.”

“But if he has been captured, sir?” Kurt said, a sudden flash of uncertainty overwhelming his sense. Dewhurst raised his chin.

“Men are captured every day, Mr. Hummel. The service goes on, life continues, and we are forced to exercise that patience which Providence has bestowed on us.” Kurt thinned his lips, but did not dare protest, even to such a fair Captain.

“Indeed, sir,” he said woodenly. Dewhurst’s eyes creased at the corners, as if he were attempting not to smile, and he cleared his throat softly before speaking again.

“I do not know that it is any easier being the man left behind to wait,” he acknowledged, a strange warmth to his tone. “But you cannot bring him home any the sooner by worrying over him.”

“No, sir,” Kurt agreed, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “He will return in his own time, as ever.”

“A bit of a loose cannon, your friend?”

“Aye, always,” Kurt said ruefully, thinking of the scrapes he had been forced to rescue Blaine from time and again – usually entirely of his own making! “I simply wish I could aid him now.”

“They also serve who only stand and wait,” Dewhurst murmured quietly, and darted a knowing glance at Kurt. “When he returns, Mr. Hummel, you will have a great deal of time to lecture him on the error of his ways. For now, we will hold true, and watch for any opportunity to assist him.”

“After all he has done for me, sir, it seems like a cold gratitude.” Kurt looked down disconsolately, wishing for the privacy to rest his chin on the rail. He started when Dewhurst laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“You are great friends,” Dewhurst said, and Kurt’s heart pounded hard as he heard the emphasis on the word. Could Dewhurst know? His hand squeezed calmingly, and Kurt breathed. “He will expect no more of you than to do your duty, and do it well.” Kurt dared a look at his Captain’s face, and was startled by the calm knowingness he saw there. “And who can doubt that he will return, when he is awaited with such tenacity. I dare say even the bravery of Mr. Anderson is no proof against your determination.”

“No, sir,” Kurt agreed, stifling the mad urge to giggle as relief swept through him. He was distracted an instant later by a sudden splash in the waters off the stern, and leaned over to see, to his surprise, the sleek forms of several dolphins gamboling in the wake. He turned to Dewhurst, grinning broadly. “Do you see, sir?”

“Aye, lad,” Dewhurst said, laughing with him. “Luck is with us! I told you it would all come right.” With a final pat to Kurt’s shoulder he moved away, making for the officer of the watch, and Kurt breathed deeply. He would do his duty, and Blaine would return, likely laden down with half the wealth of France, and all would be well. If he had to storm Paris himself, armed only with his pistol and his wits, he would see it done. Another dolphin leapt and splashed, and Kurt looked up, eyes seeking the constant North Star, remembering how Blaine had taken him up to the crow’s nest in his first month and pointed it out, eyes dancing in the moonlight. He would find his way home, certain sure, and Kurt would be waiting.  

Yeah... I'll go and finish this chapter of TTR now...