Thirty Bells: [Action/Written]

[simplestgift]

[Archie Kennedy opens his eyes with his back against something hard, his wings spread out over solidness even as he grows aware of the prickle of grass underneath him. He is curled up on his side, wearing new feather trousers and shivering horribly. He hugs himself for warmth, and movement brings the rain to his attention. He is soaked.

My God, what did I lose? His hand grasps for the St. Michael pendant Horatio gave him for his birthday last year, only to find empty air.

He left it at home.

His wings twitch, and he twists to find himself pressed against a tall rock, probably near one of the lakes. His disorientation in full swing, he doesn’t even bother to try to figure out which lake it is. He sits up, waits for the world to stop whirling, and takes a shaky, hasty inventory.

Arms and legs. Nose and ears and eyes. Touch, taste, smell, sight, hearing. Ten fingers, ten toes, a wild mass of blond hair unbound and sticking to his damp neck and forehead.

What did he lose?

Still trembling, he curls against the rock and tries breathing for a bit.

Memories, maybe? Any holes in his memory? How is he to know?

Horatio. He remembers Horatio, thank God. Buffy, Jilly, Jack, Leonard, Elizabeth. Father is Finley Kennedy, mother is Elspeth, siblings Finley, Neil, and Abigail. His grandfather pushed him into the Navy. His first ship was the Swiftsure. Is everything important there?

Off on a mission, and now he's back as if he'd never left. Nothing hurts. The only pain now is in finding out what he paid to come back to life. And in telling…

No. He is not going to tell Horatio about another instance where he wasn’t able to protect him, especially from death. He can’t call for help, because anyone who finds him in this state will know, and no one can know.

His wings shiver, shaking off water, then wrap around his body as well as they can. He’s always so inclined to forget they exist, but they do help to stave off the rain and warm him a little. Then, weakly, his knees threatening to buckle under him, he stands up. It’s a long walk home, and he has to make it alone.

The next two hours pass in a haze as he finds the road and follows it, limiting himself to two thoughts every quarter-hour if he can help it. After a while, he doesn’t feel especially cold anymore, which he vaguely knows from his first appearance in Luceti is a bad sign. Sheltering in the tree village won’t help him get dry when he’s already soaked, so he continues at the quickest pace he can manage. It’d be even worse to die of hypothermia just after coming back from the dead.

In the village, he steals quietly toward the clothes shop, shivering hard and pale as a ghost.

It’s going to have to be a matter of putting on the face again. No one can suspect something is wrong. Those who aren’t scornful will be compassionate, and he doesn’t think he can take compassion right now.

The door to house 36 opens very, very quietly, and the lieutenant slips inside as if he doesn’t want anyone to know he’s there. As quickly as he can, he’ll find the St. Michael pendant and slip it on.

It takes some time, but in the evening, over a cup of tea in the tea shop, he writes on the journals, shortly:]

I’m back from my mission.

-AK

[At night, he goes out for a drink. He doesn't make it to Good Spirits.]

[OOC: First chronological tag goes to Amelia, last to John Watson.]

Comments

[action]

[greenjacketed]

Well, I'm not exactly keen to sit and listen to your whole bloody history in the middle of a shop now. Am I?

[ he's aware that he's not behaving much like an officer. this frustrates him. which leads him to only act like even less of one. ]

[action]

[simplestgift]

At the moment, no one, sir. [Oh, he can tell this one will be fun.]

[action]

[greenjacketed]

Between regiments? [ he asks with a certain measure of incredulity. it isn't that he hasn't been nudged around the army in his time...it's just -- well, he's disappointed in the lack of a concrete answer. ]

[action]

[simplestgift]

No, I'm...here, sir. [Total innocence.]

[action]

[greenjacketed]

You've only bloody well just arrived, Lieutenant. Who were you serving with, then?

[ exasperated. ]

[action]

[simplestgift]

[Remembering how frustrating the disrespect of rank can be, Archie lets it go.]

Apologies, sir. His Majesty's ship-of-the-line Renown, under Captain Sawyer.

1/2

[greenjacketed]

...Bugger it all.

2/2

[greenjacketed]

Navy. [ he tries for a moment to remember if the renown was any of the ships listed off by captain joel chase while he was on the pucelle. nope. ]

Well, Kennedy. I hear you'll be in good company. Apparently there's a whole lot of you sailors already in town. Haven't met a single one, though.

[ not of the navy, at least. ]

[simplestgift]

[Archie's jaw works, as if he's biting into something with his mouth closed. He's biting his tongue. After a moment, he takes a breath.]

May I ask...when you are from, sir?

[greenjacketed]

[ he talks rough and perhaps he reads rough but there were gears a-turning in the major's mind. the lad couldn't be too new if he knew enough to ask about a when. but sharpe bides his time and keeps his suspicions to himself. ]

Eighteen-thirteen. November.

[simplestgift]

January of the year two. [It's an automatic response.] Not so distant, then. How's the war?

[greenjacketed]

Being fought on land, Lieutenant. Now. [ god, but he relaxes even more considerably. like a weight off his chest. ] Meant to be on my way back to Spain to push into France with the rest of the army.

[ and he doesn't like being held up. richard wants to be on that advancing line. ]

[simplestgift]

Invading France from Spain? Isn't that a little--oh, did Spain decide it hadn't made up its mind after all?

[greenjacketed]

We marched straight through it from Portugal. Took us a while but...[ but wellington, sharpe trusts, knows what he's doing. ] We've got'em on the run, now. Only...it is into their own country. Aye, there's plenty left to be fought.

[simplestgift]

Boney on the run. He must be having a wonderful time. [Archie can tell from his manners and his speech that Sharpe is not one of the ones who purchased his own commission. Maybe someone purchased it for him, and if that's the case, he's either got good connections or he's just plain good.]

[greenjacketed]

His time'll only get better once we get on his tail. Only just left England to get back to the chase when I turned up here. [ he makes a fist; loosens it; makes it again.

he hadn't wanted to go in the first place. ]

[simplestgift]

Well, it's good to meet someone from home, or thereabouts. [A hesitation.] I've an old friend in the army. Dunno where he'd be by your time, or if he's still alive.

[greenjacketed]

[ men die in the army all the time. sharpe hesitates to say this but a stony eye did just as well. ]

Seems you've got a grasp on this village's odd treatment of time, Lieutenant. Already.

[simplestgift]

[Archie hesitates, chest tightening, and he does not look Sharpe in the eye.]

You're not...the first person I've met.

[greenjacketed]

[ even still... ] You're taking it a damn sight better than I did. Better than I still am.

[ at least, his casual treatment of timeline differences seems to say so. ]

[simplestgift]

Maybe because I expect to wake up any moment. [There's a slight tremor to his voice he can't quite even out. He hopes Sharpe will think it's because he's still shivering.]

[greenjacketed]

A dream. Aye. [ harry dresden had talked him into that. ] Ain't the sort of thing I usually see as I sleep. But the scenery's nothing to complain about.

[simplestgift]

It isn't. [A relieved Archie raises the trousers in something like a salute.] Begging your pardon, Major.

[greenjacketed]

[ another rigid gesture with his hand. ]

Go get your kit on, Kennedy. [ it's a suggestion. not an order. after all, the army and the navy were two different beasts. but sharpe is just gruff and awkward enough that even suggestions sound a little bit like orders when he's not being outranked himself. ] You're dripping all over the damn floor.

[simplestgift]

Aye-aye, sir. At l-least it's not your floor, sir. [But Archie nods and ducks back into a dressing room, aiming to be behind the door before Sharpe has a chance to gripe at him for being cheeky.]