The Middies' Berth

".. Sailors don't need ter think. They need to act. Do what they're told to, no? We.. middies.. need to think fast n' under pressure.. therefor, 's good for us too. If we are given time n' pampered like it..Nay gonna work when we have t' Frogs after us. "

He shifted to get himself into a more comfortable position and moved his hand so that it perched over the leg better and cut no circulation in itself.

"We weren't told that but. .. 's obvious that with strictness.. with t' proper hierarchy even amongst midshipmen ye strive ter do better for ..yesself. n' in that way yer more skilled too." Well as much as he sounded like he stood for it, he'd had many a day on his ship feeling miserable about just that. It was odd to find himself defending it now. But two years seems to have been enough to turn him. Why else would he have fallen to his habit of drinking. It was only easier to get it, on his previous ship than it was here. But time would change that.

"N' t' cat don't let you think 'bout mutiny at all. t' makes you fear that too much to have time ter think 'bout it. N' it hurts enough ter keep you quiet. Divide n' rule too.. 's how it is. Let yer men fraternize with each other fer too much n' yer ship's at t' verge of mutiny. Don't you think?"

"I never heard that. If folks want to mutiny, they'd find a way, even on a ship like that. And seems to me that usin' the cat too much makes 'em more likely to want to mutiny, not less." He shrugged.

"I 'member, when I was in trainin', we got thrashed all the time till we was scared stiff of the Sergeant and couldn't think straight. We was in trainin' for longer'n we should've been acause of that, I think." He leaned back a little, staring at the deckhead, remembering. "He was a bastard of a sergeant. They carry a cane, you know. And if you made a mistake - or if he thought you'd made a mistake, he'd take a swipe at the back of your legs with it. You was lucky if he only hit you once or twice - used to try to get blood, and sometimes he'd thrash you so much you couldn't hardly stand up, though he'd only do it when there wasn't any officers around to see. Still got the scars from that."

(OOC - got to go out again. Be back later!)

It was nice to listen to someone tell their story, how their life was before they've met. Made it a lot easier to understand that man and feel them to be more familiar than if he were just to stand there talking of weather. It must've been a very personal thing for Thompson to tell him, a memory that was not for every ear and mind. Atleast it was what the midshipman thought, while he listened, with his chin upturned slightly, his eyes serious and thoughtful.

He didn't ask how officers didn't know. Or what they'd say. Their sergeant was probably the same as them midshipmen on the Confidence. The officers. No questions asked of them. What they said, what they did was cut deep in stone. A superior could do no wrong.

" N' you didn' drink ter ease yer pain?" He didn't laugh. He was more interested to hear how Thompson had coped with it and remembered that he said he had friends even then. They must've helped him , as drink helped those others.

"Couldn't. Couldn't afford it - and if we could, they'd hear of it. Dunno how. But we helped each other, see. Like, if someone's kit weren't up to scratch, the others'd clean it for him, or whatever needed doing, and him him out that way. Or if it was drill, we'd all go over it again and again till they got it. We was all in the same boat, and the only way we were goin' to get through it was to pull together." He smiled at the middy. "Must've worked like, 'cause I'm here now, 'stead of still there."

"..I'm 'ere too." Strange though logical of course. He was firstly a private and secondly it wasn't the training grounds aboard a ship. He was probably pennyless and he didn't quite seem to have a past of a gentleman neither.

"How much of education do ye have?" He asked, when thoughts strayed.

"Eddycation? None at all." He sighed a little. "Was born in a brothel in Chatham and only joined the Marines 'cause it was them, the Army or get pressed. And I reckoned I'd rather go to sea my own way than 'cause a press-gang got me. So I 'listed in the Marines when I was fourteen. And that were near twelve years ago now."

He glanced at the lad and smiled. "But I bet you'm real clever, and c'n read all sorts o' things, sir."

He chuckled: "Education, private. Not Eddycation!"

"I can read yes. 's what an officer should be able ter do. How else ter read flags like. Ye can know what they be lookin' like, but you have to see what they mean too, n' read all sorts of other things, n' write .." He smiled proudly. He was a bit taken by what he had heared. A brothel? Well... what exactly was that? He'd heard it from sailors - though not that many on their earlier ship, but he wasn't exactly sure about its contents. And middies, he'd never talked about it with them. It would firstly not be natural to ask and secondly, he would probably feel more than embarrassed about it.

So better to get embarrassed here, wasn't it?

".. you were born, where?" He asked and hoped the question was innocent enough that it would recieve an elaboration of the answer, and not look as if he was ignorant of it.

"S'what I said, sir, eddycation." He grinned. "Ain't got the learnin' like you have, I mean. And I was born in a brothel. Means... well, sir, bein' blunt, me mother was a whore. Dunno who me father was."

He really didn't know how much explanation De Guarde needed, and wasn't going to volunteer too much all at once. He didn't want to embarrass the lad needlessly, nor did he want to look as though he was embarrassing the lad on purpose.

He spoke a little quieter. "I don't mind you askin' questions, sir, I just dunno what you want to know."

"So..." He began and shifted to look at the man better: "Yer mean to say... you were born outta wedlock? ..Ye mother wasn' married ter another man when she had you? N' she didn't have ye with a man to whom she married.. well, she didn't marry, did she?" He paused , took a breath and tried again.

" But.. she could know whom she was with, couldn' she?" He was getting the slightest idea what the said place was. He'd been to a tavern once, or pub, and had even been witness to the ladies. Ofcourse his reasons for being there were different than most sailor's. And there was a sailor they were finding there, and who later got the short end of the rope.

"..Do explain further , private." He always had his mother and father and knew exactly who they were, so it was hard to imagine not to. Even if they weren't with him for most of the time, they were there. He knew their names and knew they were married and knew he was in a family and when his mother prohibited him of going places, he knew she did, and when his father brought him artefacts from when he was away, again he had known him and seen him.

"Well, when a man's been to sea for years, with only other men f'r comp'ny, and he gets back to England, he needs... he needs a woman. And there are women who know this an' they charge f'r it. And sometimes there's a bunch o' women all in one house, an' it's called a brothel. I know me mother right enough, but she dunno who me father was. Could've bin almost anyone."

Thompson didn't mind his past; it was a common enough story, of course. He shrugged, looking into the young face that was watching him so seriously. "I don't mind. If you never had summat, you don't miss it, do you, sir?"

"No.. bu' if you see it with others.. you don't want ter have what they do?.. Like t' moneys... don' ye wish ye had what t' rich do?" Did he think any less of this man for what he was and who his mother was? Perhaps that made him so strange and so different, and rather than judge it, he ought to have embraced it. It was hard, but the arm around his shoulder reassured him.

Women's company. He reckoned there was more than talk, but didn't have the knowledge enough, nor any experience to support his thesis. And why would he want to?

"You have it in yer blood then. t' sea. .." He smiled and the way he was nestled and how he had shifted, perhaps even the slightest closer, he decided to show he'd not mind. Not that it mattered or that Thompson would care. And he wondered why he did too. Perhaps to draw some trust from the lad? Ah, the excuse was fine enough.

".. Seein' as there could be a sailor as yer father like. " He glanced up: "Did you..." He began in a voice, very much alert, and then he shook his head:" Never ye mind.. 'twas nothin'." What he thought he heard was a false alarm.

"I got the chance of a bit o' prize money. But I don't need money to make me happy, y'know, sir. And likely I have got the sea in me blood - or the soldierin', an' I do that as well, don't forget."

And De Guarde shifted a little bit closer and Thompson smiled at him. Maybe he was getting through to the lad, making him see there was another way of looking at things?

"D'you want to ask anythin' else, sir?" he said instead, hoping this was the real De Guarde that he was seeing.

"Do you hate me ,fer not being able to be up there with the others, because of me?.. Fightin' fer your ship?" He asked bluntly and left his eyes sharp on the marine. He wasn't judging him, but he wanted to see truth there and not words that might then be twisted into a submissive kind political type of an answer.

Soldiers and sailors came to brothels, and this man could be a son of either. It was a strange concept to consider. But even more, that even if Thompson had wanted, which he did not, he would not be able to point out his father. Unless he was a striking image of him and had inherited little from his mother.

It would be amusing to find that a man such as one of the important admirals nowadays, or perhaps a general of some army, most famous in the time, would be the father. But that was taking it all out of proportion and he had to stem his imagination and return to the cold reality.

"Hate you? What a thing to say. 'Course I don't hate you, sir. I'd like to be up there, sure, but there's always another time. An' it's nice, talkin' like this, and we couldn't do that if I was up there, now."

A duty was a duty, and why should he resent it, or hate the person who'd made him do that duty? Lieutenant Bush had called for a Marine, and Thompson had responded to that call. If it wasn't him, it would have been Vining, or Dickin, or even Branning or Allen, and they'd likely have stood there like lumps and done nothing to help De Guarde try to see Terpsy in a better light.

"True." It brought a smile to his lips and he flushed embarrassed. He was ashamed that he'd shown that too, but it was too late to hide it and be harsh about it instead.

"Maybe they'll come to us. Jus' ter entertain us. Frogs hopping by." He was sure that if they did, he would do the best he could in fending them of. And if they didn't , well then he'd do his best to put the things they've set back in place before a midshipman was sent down to collect them again.

" 's there summat you'd like to ask?" He did sound hesitant at allowing this fo the marine.

Had De Guarde just asked him if he'd like to ask a question? He looked at the boy - young gentleman - snuggled up next to him. "What's your home like then, sir?" he said, wondering if it had been a happy place. Or maybe he'd just describe the house and not the people living there. Either was fine with the Marine, who'd never expected De Guarde to make the offer.

"Me home?.." He nodded.".... well.. me father n' mother.. they're well off.. so I've not been missin' out on t' luxuries... like gifts n'..such." He hadn't before considered that anybody would wish to talk to him about it so that now he was looking for words and trying to figure out what exactly the private wished to know.

" We've had lot' better food than here. More like... like in t' cap'n's cabin, n' even better than that.." Was he going about the wrong way? "'ve had many things.. I could play with n'..was usually in me room where I've been learnin'.. n' readin' n' playin'. In t' evenin' we've sometimes met, right before bed, but me mom n' me father were often busy like, so we didn't meet always. " Nods gently: " Me mom liked what t' society offered, ye know. She'd then have these meetin's with other ladies n' me sister would be there too. But 'fcourse ye don' have children there! 's a lady's thing. N' me father was ..well he prefered ter go n' stay in his office room.. or he'd go n' be gone till evening. Don't know where he went. N' ofcourse they'd go to the fine evenings outside too, invited ter places."

He blushed, for he'd said so much already. ".. I um.., there was a woman that I was ter listen to. I was her .." He searched for the word, and found it silly that he couldn't find it :" Well, she made sure I was propped right, n' that I was not gettin' meself in trouble n' that I was in me room, n' doin' me work. N' not gettin' meself hurt like. She was a stern woman. But she never was allowed ter touch me!" He grinned at that: " 's.. that ..a good.. 'enough answer, private?"

He tried to imagine it, but couldn't. "You never really saw your mum or dad?" he said, trying to understand that. "Did you have any friends at all? I mean, ever, at home or after you joined the Navy."

How anyone could live like that, Thompson didn't know, but that was one of the things about the Quality; they did strange things, like not really seeing their kids.

"Do you miss it at all?" he asked, which might have been a safer question, though he hoped the lad had had one friend, somewhere.

(OOC - I need to go to bed; I'm on the early shift tomorrow morning.)

"I did see them but 'twasn't like every day or .. . I mean, not like I see you marines on Terpsy, or I see Yates or.. " He managed a small smile:" t' doctor."

"Bu'.. yes I did , N' sometimes, when we had visits, they called me n' me sister n' we would greet them. N' they would say this n' that about how good we were.. n' then me sister would play n' sometimes I would do too. For the guests." Like show dogs. But their parents did care, just showed it rather with gifts.

"...." He didn't exactly know how to respond to the question of friends. He thought it was clear that on Confidence they knew each other as people and as midshipmen, and in ways as those who were higher and those that were lower on the ranking scale and at home.. he did see children that came to visit, but it wasn't something Yates would call friends either. Perhaps safest was to not answer and see if the private had forgotten it.

".... do I miss my home, you mean?"

(ooc - good night, and sleep well!!)

"Yeah, that's what I mean, sir." It hadn't escaped Thompson that De Guarde hadn't answered about having friends, or not, and not answering probably meant any reply would be in the negative.

It seemed to him that De Guarde had had a pretty unhappy life before now. Maybe there weren't the problems and worries that Thompson had known from a young age, but Thompson felt his own childhood was far happier, even when he was a half-starved kid with nothing but rags to wear. And it shocked him that someone who was so far above him in station should have not even had a friend to play with.

He was unaware that the arm around the boy had tightened its hold, pulling him a little closer.

"Sometimes..." Though very rarely, he did think of his mother and father and of the estate that he had left behind and in which he grew up till the sea whisked him away. He missed the luxury more, but even his parents he held dearly to heart. Though in his childishness he was angry with them for sending him away.

He felt the arm tighten against him and he looked up at Thompson questionably. It somehow felt nice, just to be held and to even pretend that he had someone who did care a little, on this ship. It wouldn't have stopped him from lashing out at the sailors, for it was second nature now. Nor to try and trick Fletcher into providing him what he wanted, or bullying him into doing so. Or having the sailors do the same. Make them give up their grog rations or else. He could use that power, though he was in more doubt here.

But with Thompson he was more confused. Would he think twice before using anything against that man?

"Do you miss your home?"

"Aye, sir, I reckon I do at that." He paused to study the boy who was watching him with curious eyes. "Not the bein' hungry, or the keepin' out o' Punchy Wright's way when he was drunk an' in a temper. But I miss me friends. And me mother, o' course. But then, Terpsy's me home now, and I've got me mates here. An' it's a pretty good life, if you don't mind bein' scared silly sometimes, like just before a fight, or in a real nasty storm."

"'m not scared of that. " This was the boy that was nervous about the storm a while ago, talking about it as if he thought that would help. " Not t' storm or fights. " He spoke bravely. Thompson was hungry when he was young, and the young gentleman was one of them always hungry midshipmen, who would run a poor ship to hunger if not cooked first, should there be no wind to move them.

"I'd have been up there n' on t' Frenchy already, if I was not ordered to be confined down 'ere." He nodded curtly. " N' t' storms are only nasty when.... when there's other things ye have complainin' ter do." He looked at the door. "'s quieter now..think they're close ter being done? Or have they all gone ter t' Frogs now?"

He wondered if any would've been able to sneak down here, but cast that thought aside. They were ready if needed. If not, as thought before, they'd just continue to talk and hope to know the battle was done way before the officers would be coming, or midshipmen.

The great guns had fallen silent a long time ago, but it was only now that Thompson really noticed they were no longer firing. He couldn't hear any sounds of fighting, yet nobody had come back down here to say the fighting was over with and the French ship taken. "Reckon they'm still fightin' on the French ship, sir," the Marine replied. "Dunno how long it'll take afore the fightin's over, though." He took a breath and let it out slowly. "Do you... Is there anythin' else you want to know about me, sir?"

"Aye. Have ye been like this.. all considerate n' worried.. with any other of them midshipmen? Guarded any, before me arrival?" He asked and wondered about their predicament. If they got a prize ship, some of the crew would be sent to sail it, either along with them, or back to merry ole' England.