Writing home; 7th May

"Well, me first time at sea was in Vixen, a twelve-gun sloop. An' then I was a Admiralty f'r a month, couple of months, and me next ship was Temmyrare, which is a 98-gun ship-of-the-line. She was at Trafalgar, though I wasn't on her then. An' there was more Marines on Temmyrare than there were men aboard Vixen, an' it took a lot of gettin' used to. We had an officer on Temmyrare, too, but we only had a Sergeant an' a Corporal on Vixen."

He found himself tracing his finger down the deck-seam in front of him, and looked up at the lad sitting there. "There's some things as stays the same of course. The drill don't change. You still have to do the same things to set or hand the sails, an' all that stuff. It's just what the officers expect that's different. An' the best way to find out what a new officer wants is to ask. When you go aboard your next ship, ask the Lieutenants what the Captain's like and how he wants things done. Ain't anybody goin' to think bad of you f'r askin' about summat you don't know, after all."

(OOC - really off now! See you! )

"Depends o' t' ship. Some ships expect yer to know and don't tolerate t' mindless , daft questions. Or they'll have t' middies that have their own ways. Want ter be better than t' others n' thus keep others not knowin'. Because it's easier ter know more without telling someone 'bout it or tellin' 'im wrong, no?"

"Yours were... uh'... question toleratin' ships. Or.. 'tleast fer t' marines , n' ye don' have too much different ter know n' ye were taught before even comin' aboard. Hard teachin' though. I don't envy it." He smiled warmly and honestly.

"t' Confidence. Well, ye learnt a lot jus' watchin'. Sometimes yer wasn't smart enough ter figure it out... then yer asked. Well was so. Sometimes they were full true with what they said. But sometimes.. if they knew yer really didn't know, they could try n' see how .. well, how much yer didn't know. Learn't better not ter ask that way. Watch, watch, watch. That's what helped me. There was examples plenty enough though!"

He shrugged his shoulders looking down at the Marine's hands and what they were doing. "I've.. been askin' plenty more here.. than ever back on me ol' ship. But never ye ask a lieutenant,.. they'll say yer questioning his authority,... and captain. " He shook his head sharply. ".. He'll right think you want ter mutiny!... well."

He ran a hand over his hair, smiling at how neat it now looked. "that's how it was at me ship 'tleast. Cap'n was god .. n' even if he said two things that .. didn't come together.. at two different times, he was still right. See, so never question 'im. Ye say summat like that.. n' yer a daft fool, n' one on sure wrong side o' him." He smiled as if one who figured it out and was now sharing his wisdom with another.

"I never had a captain... like that, ever. Had some real tartars - like, on me first ship. But I never had a captain who changed his mind like that. An' we allus knew we could ask other folks an' they'd tell us, or it was easy enough to figure out. Though, as you say, we had trainin' afore ever goin' to sea, so it was easier, a bit."

He paused and looked at the youngster. "You'm learnin' to ask questions, which is good. An' you know how to listen an' watch an' learn, which is good an' all. I reckon... I reckon you'm goin' to get it figured out how to be a Terpsy quicker'n you think. You just got to realise that different don't mean we'm wrong, here. An' it don't mean your old ship was wrong. They've just got different captains who do things in different ways."

He shrugged. "An' you'll have to start talkin' to the sailors as well, like. An' I promise it'll be all right, so long as you don't snap at them, or talk down or stuff like that."

"Aye.. well.. I'd say.. um.. Not exactly change his mind but. .he was wise enough ter know wot' he wanted.. n'.. I just couldn't figure it out I think. Wos' my fault.. entirely, I'm sure." He looked embarrassed but glad at the kind words, which though he tried much to hide it, showed on his face.

"n' yer kind.. fer sayin' good .. or 'least not bad about me former ship. I respect that, n' ye don't say is' wrong, but that it's different. And that's right! Very right! And I know you understand, because of that." He shifted a little and then seeing as the marine himself was perched across the deck, he did so himself. It felt nicer to stretch out his limbs and have no pressure against his posteriors. He sighed contently and rested his head against the palm of his hand.

"Yer know. 'twas nice now. Writin'. Didn' right make me think of home,.. but close. Yer said a very nice letter. Shows you'um love em."

"First letter I ever wrote - or had wrote." He touched the paper inside his shirt. "I'll talk to Sarn't Quinn to get it sent off. An' thanks f'r writin' it."

"You'm listenin' to me, at least. Which... well, I can't explain it all quite how I'd like, an' have you understand prop'ly, but we'll manage it somehow. An' I know you'm thinkin' about it, inside, an' you'll understand it one day. An' I think when you do understand it, prop'ly, f'r yourself, an' just do things Terpsy's way without havin' to... to make yourself do it, I think that's when the captain will make you a middy again."

Thompson never doubted that Captain Bolitho would re-rate de Guarde, once he'd stopped trying to do things Confidence's way, and started understanding how Terpsy did them. And he'd be a better middy for his experiences on the lower deck. Even if he didn't appreciate it now, he would in the future, and he would be a better officer for having that understanding.

"Hope 'twill be sooner." He smiled and stretched his limbs some. He turned so that he was lying on his back but with his hips still turned so that they lay at the side. A bit of a twist there.

"I'um still workin' up in t' shrouds. The place yer goin up , when volunteering." He smiled, glancing at the marine." Oh.. you's off duty for long now? N'.. t' tot. ... tot will you give me it?" He studied Thompson.

"You go up a sight higher'n I do, lad," Thompson said. "I only go up to the fighting top." He indicated upwards, to the foretop, just above the foreyard, the lowest yard on the mast. "You'll mebbe end up goin' right up to the royal yard, bein' an able seaman. Well, if you'm a topman, you will. An' you can see how much higher that is than the top." The royal yard, the highest yard on the mast, was almost hidden by the mass of canvas on the mast above them.

"An' when they pipes 'Up Spirits', I'll give you me tot. Though you'll have to be real careful you don't get drunk, 'cause you'll be goin' on duty right after, won't you?"

"I arn't afraid of heights. 's higher yer go.. t' smaller t' ship looks. Won't mind goin' where they send me up there. 's long as noone pushes me down." He grinned and nodded, the grin fading some at the mention of duty. "...Right back... I guess so."

It put a damper in his excitement to get that tot of drink. He would have to store it away and though that was against the rules, there was better than to be drunk and dead, falling of a mast or some such. "I'll be sure not ter get drunk. N', remember.. 'tis all a secret to us. A secret, aye? Don't need ter understand, jus' don't tell."

Thompson frowned. "You don't have to keep tellin' me it's a secret, though there ain't anythin' wrong with agreein' what we did. An' you sayin' that makes me think you'm 'shamed of doin' what you done."

And that hurt, and Thompson thought the hurt showed on his face, or in his voice. But he did have the letter, anyway, and didn't begrudge the lad his tot for writing it.

He wondered vaguely how long it would take for the letter to reach his family and whether they'd be able to find someone to write back, and how long it would take for a reply to reach Terpsy, wherever she ended up.

"no Thompson. If yer mean I'um ashamed for writin'. I'um not ashamed of that." He shook his head again and reached out to place his hand on the marine's shoulder as if meaning to confirm his words. "I told yer I was glad ter write it. N' now thinkin' bout it. N' seeing how much it meant ter you.... I.." He looked embarrassed to say this, more so as it was revealing something about him that he may not have wished the Terpsy's to know. Having a heart that is.

"I was very glad to. Not ashamed at all."

"I didn't mean fer that ter be a secret... well a bit, but if you want ter tell." He looked at the marine. "Maybe.. maybe you can. I mean ..ter keep a secret about the tot... like that. Because I know there be others that would want ter betray it ter those that don't think it right ter pay me like that. Understand..?" He squeezed the shoulder gently then pulled his hand away.

"But fer yer letter... I told yer I would write again if yer needed. N' If I were ashamed, I wouldn't have said that. Not even fer a tot of t' finest!"

The hand on his shoulder made Thompson blink in surprise before he smiled at the lad, a little shyly. And there were those who wouldn't think it right that Thompson was paying by giving his tot in exchange. Mister Yates had said something to that effect the other day, hadn't he, after all?

But at least the boy wasn't ashamed of having done the writing, and Thompson breathed out, relieved. He hadn't realised how much he'd dreaded finding that the thing de Guarde wanted kept secret was the fact he'd written at all. And not only was he not ashamed of that, he might be happy enough to do it again in the future.

"Thanks, de Guarde," he said, and paused. "You... you know me other name - I told it you earlier. But what's yours? If'n you don't mind me askin', that is, o' course."

He wanted to scold the marine for the nerve of asking, yet when he opened his mouth, it wasn't those words, that came first to mind, nor did his tongue wish to speak it. George was the marine's name. He had been given it with little reserve by the man.

"..I have two... though I use..only one." He began carefully, his voice dropping a few notches in sound. "...t' one is.... is Mathew."

"C'n I... d'you mind if I call you Mathew, then? Only, it sounds a bit strange to allus be callin' you 'lad'. But I won't, if you don't want me to."

And maybe the boy didn't want to let him, which he could understand. The officers didn't call each other by their Christian names, after all, did they? So maybe he wouldn't want to let Thompson use his Christian name. Maybe he'd think it was too... well, bringing him down to the same level as Thompson and the other Marine privates... and the sailors. But there was no harm in asking, was there...?

He lowered his gaze. It was a harder question than it first looked. It wasn't simply the name to be called. It held behind it a meaning, a station of man, his rank and his relation to another, or so it felt to the boy. It was trust to tell Thompson his name, but to be called by it in public... Mr. Yates was called Mr. Yates, and Fletcher the same and so all of the midshipmen. To call one of them by their Christian name would have been terribly wrong.

He had his place in society to consider as well, even if at present it felt so distant and so long ago that it ever meant a thing. He was but a young lad all the same. He looked up at Thompson and looked still undecided. "N'.. when I'm a middie,.. what will you call me then?"

Thompson frowned. That was... well, that was a question he shouldn't have to ask.

"I'd call you Mister de Guarde right enough, or sir, o' course."

He wouldn't call him anything else, would he? Wouldn't dream of it.

"An' you'd call me Thompson, right enough, wouldn't you?"

"And now you would like to call me Mathew?" He looked critically at the marine."...yes, I'd probably call you Thompson... but would you now let me call you George?" He hugged his shoulders awaiting the marine's answer. It might've been easier that way. Have more time to consider and at the same not cause embarrassement nor discomfort for either of them.

Thompson thought for a moment. The lad was younger than him, and he wasn't used to being called by his Christian name, but this was an unusual situation, and the lad was going to be an officer at some point in the future.

He nodded. "I don't mind if you call me George."

Not very many others on Terpsy called him by his Christian name, even among the Marines, so it would take a bit of getting used to, of course.

Well, that sent the ball of decision back to his side. The marine was willing that he were called by his Christian name, which was a feat to consider. He on the other hand was still struggling with the concept. To say no, might dampen what they have so far achieved. Perhaps the marine would not care much about it, even understand it, on the other hand, there was a risk he would feel to be treated as lesser or just not treated right.

If he said yes, he would have to make sure certain that others knew not to call him by that, but only as De Guarde. They weren't right to use his name. Not his Christian at least.

"Well.. then, George." He began, still debating. It was ironic how much thought the decision left him with. He could not prolong it all that much longer though.

"....While I'm a ....I'm not a middie.."Nicely avoiding saying that he were a sailor again. "...you. .. but only you, n' I wont be lettin' others.... well, only yer can use me Christian name. Yer asked.. n' I had a mind to say no.. still do a little.." He looked seriously at Thompson. "Might change me mind.. sometime..." He was still debating in his mind and weighing pros and cons, rights and dont's :"fer now. Yer can though. That don' mean anything.." Though it did, and he knew that. "So mark that." He hesitated looking down again.

The lad was still thinking like a middy, in the way he spoke sometimes, giving orders, or something that would be an order if he was still a middy.

But he was willing to concede, even a little bit, which was good. Thompson nodded. "All right... Mathew."

And it was nice, in a way, to know he could do something the others couldn't. Though hopefully de Guarde... Mathew... would learn to see the seamen, not as a threat, but as the people who would help him regain his former position. But learning to trust them... that was something Thompson couldn't help with, any more than he'd been trying to already.

It felt foreign to be called by name, and he barely recognised it when spoken. That it was his name and that it was he who was addressed by it. He nodded slowly and smiled, then returned to lie, back against the ground, and hips to the side.

"George.." It felt just as foreign as calling the other man by his name and not his last nor his rank or station. " Are yer superstitious .. like'um.. t' sailors? I mean.. believin' in things.. like they do?"

(ooc - this middie needs to find a hammock. Else there'll be sleeping on the floor on the menu! See you tomorrow? - might be late!)

Thompson considered the question for a moment. "A bit. I ain't met a body yet who's bin to sea who ain't superstitious. When you'm out a thousan' mile fr'm anywheres, an' you can't see nothin' around you but sea and sky, you want summat to believe in, it's only natural. 'Specially if'n stuff seems to go wrong all the time, like, an' all."

He'd speak to Chase about a skylarking later... today or tomorrow, or whenever, it didn't matter. But he thought the youngster could do with seeing the fun things sailors did as well as all the work, and mebbe it'd help him get over the way he'd been trained to think about the men.

But that was for later, of course. Right now, he was having a nice chat, up on deck in the sunshine. And it was his turn to respond, or ask a question, or whatever.

"ARe you superstitious, then?" he asked curiously, wondering if the Quality allowed themselves to be superstitious at all, or if they left it to the lower classes, the sailors, Marines and others.

"No, not very much. ..But I was taught... I do have some.. not so much ter believe in but jus' ter be rather safe than.. you know." He enjoyed the warmth of the sun against his skin and could as well have hoped to have nothing to do for the whole of the voyage but lie down like he was and chat.

"What are yers... what d' ye believe in like?" He asked, his eyes on the marine. He knew some superstitions, which were oddly what the sailors would dare bet their lives on was real.

(ooc - now sleep for real! No superstition, that! )

"We-ell," the Marine said, thinking for a moment.

The bell rang just then, two determined strokes announcing the first dog was half-over.

"Well, I touch iron, if'n anyone says summat they oughtn't. An' you don't whistle less'n you'm becalmed, there's that. But there ain't anythin' I c'n really put a name to, y'know.

(OOC - Sleep's good. I'm working from 10am - 2pm tomorrow, so I'll be out till the afternoon, though I'll try to pop in before I leave.)

"Did ye know I heard once that there was also a belief.. but don't think it's of our sailors. Heard it in port.. " He grinned broadly." There' was a belief that if a woman bares herself to the storm, that will becalm her. Yer know.. that's silly. Really is. N' how could they even test it?" He shook his head with a laugh.

"Bes' not whistle ..'specially not like t' bosun's one.. yer know. Makes for confusion and that'd be bad. But aye.. you really believe that whistlin' would bring wind?"

He grinned. "Think that's mebbe why female figureheads have their, well, their bosom uncovered." He indicated what he meant, with his free hand. "Like... you seen Terpsy's figurehead, ain't you? An' yes, I do. 'S'why I don't do it, like. Bosun's call ain't the same sound, anyway."