The Middies' Berth

"Where else would I be going?.. Aye private. Straight there and straight back." As much as he'd desired to go the other way too, he'd only double his trouble, were he to attempt.

He pushed from the chest thus and looked at the door."..You'll lead, or will I?" And he was sure to look very grateful that he wasn't made to wait. There were certain things a body did not like to wait for. ..When hungry, for food, when thirsty for water and.. when it had to go.. it just had to go.

"You lead, sir." He didn't think the lad was planning on going anywhere but the privy, but he'd rather be able to see. Besides, it'd feel all sort of wrong to go walk in front of the youngster when heading for the officers' part of the ship.

"..Aye then." He walked to the door, had opened it, made a motion that might've looked like he would run. But the next moment he'd been walking proper again, and heading for the officer's privy without any delay. He didn't want to be stranded back in the Berth without the ability to go, just because he'd done something that had Thompson's hair raised. Felt quite odd to be followed to do something like that. It wasn't like hurling his dinner over the railing. There he'd needed all the help he could get. Though even now he could vaguely remember.. if at all, what had happened inbetween his time at the dinner and ending up in his berth.

(Ooc - and now mr. Mathew shall need to wait, because I'm needing the bed!! Good night!)

At least the lad hadn't protested about having Thompson accompany him, which was a small mercy. He wasn't used to being this far aft, down here, and it made him somewhat nervous, although all the lieutenants and other folks who lived here were up on deck, taking part in the battle. He still couldn't help thinking one of them would need to come below for something, and they'd be found. It made him feel like a child again, sneaking into places he knew he wasn't supposed to be.

(OOC - I don't know if I will be around much before Saturday afternoon. Apologies if I'm not, though I will try to post something between now and then.)

(OOC - correct me if I write something wrong here! Goin' by the plans we had in the ship's layout and considering the House of Ease meant only fer officers.)

Carefully he looked back over his shoulder to see where his marine was and then turned and walked with haste little steps in the direction of their destination. He didn't speak, perhaps for fear that sound would carry places it could really not, and otherwise he was engaged in thoughts and glad for this to be done.

When they've passed the third lieutenant's cabin he halted a moment and looked back again, just to see if the marine was still there or if he had rather stopped in place that he would feel more at ease. Here was where George would find refuge when not on duty nor on deck. Oposite was where he'd last been, The first lieutenant's cabin, which had at the time been filled with not one, but two of them officers.

Another door were meant for the purser, who had probably also been scampering elsewhere while the fight were to continue. If he hadn't he was hopefully well distracted with the business of his trade not to catch a whift of sound that came from a two pair of feet.

And there they were, so the boy looked at Thompson with a small nod and he opened the door and slipped inside, as careful of sound as if he too was in on this child's play.

(OOC - hope to see you then, and no problem! Have fun whereever you might be!!)

(OOC - I'm just popping in - flying visit!)

Thompson felt slightly nervous at being in the officers' wardroom, though they had a perfectly good reason for being there. He smiled at De Guarde as the middy turned to see where he was.

"I'll just wait here for you, sir," he said, as De Guarde slipped in through the door to do what he needed to. He looked around at the different screened-off cabins the officers had. Fancy having your own cabin and not having to sling your hammock right next to anyone else. Almost like Royalty, it was - thought the Captain's was bigger, of course. Not that Thompson minded the berthdeck - after twelve years in the Marines, most of them at sea, you got used to it.

He was still inside, when the ship creeked and cried , and splashes were heard from outside. He blinked and he felt the urge to get himself quickly back out of the Privy, before anything worse would happen.

"It has really begun now." He mused to himself, since Thompson stood waiting outside.

See if some of those people would come crying down in pain. Just see. He hid a grin at the thought. Perhaps even one of the lieutenants would be dragged to the surgeon's room. Who would it be. Leat, Bush, George? All of them? Two of them? Perhaps Kinsella of the midshipmen, or perhaps Chandos. Dunnock? Well, the french did aim differently than the British, so they'd see where things go from there.

And then he was finished and buttoning his breeches again, his hand at the door to open it and so he did in part, a leg out already, while his other was just on the way.

Footsteps on the deck outside the small cabin - Hardy grimaced and hurriedly corked the palm-sized vial and tucked it away into his coat. He had no interest in being discovered here by any of the ship's officers, even though he was well within his rights to be in his lieutenant's cabin.

Brandeson himself was deeply asleep, his slumber aided by healthy consumption of port earlier. To ensure that the lieutenant stayed in his blissful - and blessedly quiet - state, Hardy had added a few drops of laudanum to Brandeson's decanter. The lieutenant had drank the decanter dry, of course, and his presence now in his hammock was thanks only to a great effort on Hardy's part. Having Brandeson stagger on deck in a high drunken stupor wouldn't do at all - he had disgraced the Marines enough in the past two days.

After satisfying himself that whoever had been in the wardroom was no longer there, Hardy quietly opened the screen door of Brandeson's cabin. And froze immediately. There was another Marine in the wardroom. And... Hardy's mind seemed to seize up. A midshipman too.

What the devil was going on here?!

His mind was left debating who might feel the sting of the blade and the burn of the cannon ball's bite when all by subconscious mind, his eyes strayed to the door that had opened not more than a moment ago. He blinked.

He stiffened in place, though he was wise enough to keep his face void of the emotions that clawed at his mind. It was supposed to be deserted! After all, everybody was above, and now he was finding an equally shocked - wait a minute, shocked? - man standing there.

"Name.." He snapped, and made himself seem as if he had full right and purpose in being there. He saw that it was a private, which had made his confidence grow a good few inches more: "What d' ye think yer doin' snoopin' around like that?!"

Hardy's posture stiffened immediately at the midshipman's bark. All manner of silent self-recriminations were swirling around his head. He said, "Private Hardy, sir. Mister Brandeson's steward." It was difficult to keep the indignation out of his voice. "I was jus' settin' the 'tenant inta his hammock, sir. Up an' about a bit too long, he was."

"Just setting your lieutenant into his hammock? We are in the middle of action, private! Hardly a time to take a nap." He held himself with purpose, keeping his worries at bay. No time to dwell on those, when he was making his presence sound justified and he was placing all attention and blame on this private. His eyes narrowed, and no emotion of fear was seen, just 'anger'.

Thompson turned, to find De Guarde and Hardy stating at each other in equal shock. The middy was practically accusing his fellow Marine of cowardice. He wasn't going to stand for that at all. Even if speaking up meant he got the brunt of the middy's attention.

"Sir, he's only tryin' to sort Lieutenant Brandeson out, sir, bein as he's sick, an' all."

"Sort Lieutenant Brandeson out, is he?.. And why then does he look near as if he'd seen a ghost?"

His eyes narrowed on Thompson. The man was kind and considerate, but he shouldn't have dared stand for this other private who looked as guilty as a cat in the pot of milk.

Thompson himself was standing to attention. The lad seemed to swing between snappish, short-tempered officer and confused, questioning, fairly likeable young boy. "He wasn't expectin' you is all, sir. Like you wasn't expectin' him, neither." He shot Hardy an encouraging look.

Hardy was still terrified, rightfully afraid of what the midshipman might do to him for simply being there.

"Ain't nothin', sir. Jus' seein' to the 'tenant, sir. Poor fellow ain't fit for standin' duty sir. Not in his state, sir."

"What prey tell is wrong with the lieutenant? He could hardly be as tired." He spoke harshly, knowing that they might best soon move back to the middie's berth, for though Hardy did not probably know, anybody else of the midshipmen or lieutenants could well hold a grudge against them being where they should not.

He glanced at Thompson with a look of warning in his eyes.

Thompson saw the warning look, and swallowed a little. "He's sick, sir. Ain't been right for days. Ain't that the truth, mate?" he said, looking at Hardy, hoping the other Marine would be quick enough to pick up on what he'd said. Sick, maybe, but the only reason for it was that Brandeson drank like a fish.

"Aye, sick's the devil," Hardy agreed. It wasn't far from the truth, either.

"Is he, now." He didn't sound convinced. Glancing between the two marines he was sure he understood what was going on. They were marines and thus they'd stand for each other before any officer, as one.

He remembered a man, perhaps that lieutenant from the captain's dinner. He remembered him drinking but not much else. After all he had drunk his fill that night and his memory on the events were still somewhat hazy.

"... Why then did you take so long, hm?" He shifted his weight from his left foot to his right. He was taking time here. " Follow us, Private." He finally said :" I might let you go now.., but if I find you avoiding duty here again." His voice gained an edge : "An officer shall know."

There wasn't any call for that, as far as Thompson could see. Hardy would likely be needed on deck soon, anyway, so why did De Guarde want him down here? What was going on?

He glanced at Hardy and gave him a minute shrug, not much more than the twitch of a shoulder. He didn't know why De Guard was behaving the way he was, and he didn't care to ask, either. saying nothing was probably the best course available right now.

Hardy bristled a bit. Who did this midshipman think he was?

" 'Tenant's a big fellow, sir," Hardy answered. "An' it ain't easy movin' him about, sir. 'Less ya'd care to try yerself, sir."

The boy stiffened and his eyes were dark, locked onto Hardy's form. " I won't tolerate that cheeky tone, private." He snapped, his hands balled into fists. "... You best apologise this instant, and hope that I shall find it in me, to send you up and pretend none of this had happened. ..I'll forget I've met you, as you shall forget you've met us. .... now apologise for your cheekyness, Private."

He wanted to head back to the berth. Not because he wished to be there, but he wished to avoid certain trouble, if someone was to come uninvited.

Drat the blasted middy! He seemed to bring out the worst in everyone. If Hardy said what De Guarde wanted, would he leave the other man alone, or did he want to keep playing with him? It was almost like a cat playing with a mouse, and it wasn't nice.

Apologise for what? Taking care of his lieutenat? No chance! Hardy clenched his jaw.

"Dunno what's to 'pologise fer, sr. I was just doin my duty to my officer."

"Apologise for your bloody cheekyness, private!" He hissed at the lad. He did not care whether he'd done duty or not, though he doubted that the private did more than hide or perhaps even wish to steal from the officers, while they were above putting their lives on the line.

His story about taking care of some lieutenant could've been as true as the existance of the sea monsters. Yet he had been offended by Hardy's tone, what he'd said last to be exact. He glanced towards Thompson , willing him to keep quiet and not defend this wrongdoer.