Final Act

Commodore Horatio Hornblower approached the man sleeping before the fire in the study. His legs were resting on a small ottoman and the newspaper he had been reading had slipped to the floor. Taking a small throw he carefully placed it over the man's lap and legs, inadvertently waking him. The almost black eyes opened, looked up at him. "I thought that you had meetings at the Admiralty all day."

"We finished early. The Duke wanted to get away to prepare for a hunt he's hosting in the morning."

"The old fool, he never changes."

Hornblower smiled as he removed his heavy coat, carefully folding it and laying in on the empty couch. He sat in the chair next to his companion, gently taking his hand and feeling the chill in the arthritic fingers. "Would you like anything, Edward? Can I get you something?"

"No, just stay here by me. I've been sitting here thinking about the Indy." He looked over at Hornblower. "She truly was the finest ship in the fleet, wasn't she? God, she was yar." His eyes moved up to the painting over the fireplace. It had been commissioned as a gift from the Indefatigable's officers when they had learned that Captain Sir Edward Pellew had been promoted and transferred to another ship, a flagship bearing his own pennant. They had given it to him at the farewell dinner, amid the toasts and the good wishes.

"You do know she was the best ship in the fleet, because you made her so. "

Edward looked thoughtful and somewhat sad as he continued, "So many of her men were lost. Eccleson, Chadd, what was that seaman of yours? The one whose leg was blown off? I never could remember all the names, there were so many."

"It was war, Edward, men were lost everywhere. We've both lost men, every captain does. There's no point in dwelling upon it, love." Edward looked over at him, as if for confirmation that it was all right, and then nodded his agreement.

The last few months he had been spending much of his time thinking about the past, his old ships and the men he had known on them; inevitably he always came around to the ones who had been lost. He was thinking far too much on such things. Horatio had noticed that his mind wasn't always as sharp as he was used to, or as clear. He had been confusing some small details about certain actions and transposed dates and places more and more frequently. It was upsetting, but there was really nothing that could be done about it. It was a natural thing to happen, after all. Edward was now in his seventies, and was slowing down mentally, as well as physically.

Preston, their butler for decades now, entered and respectfully told them that luncheon was ready, if they would care to adjourn to the dining room. Thanking him, Horatio stood, still holding the older man's hand and tactfully helped his rise from the chair, his knees not as agile as they had once been.

Slowly they walked to the dining room, just across the hall. As they sat in their accustomed places, Edward turned to Horatio and asked, "So have you received your new orders yet? Do you know when you'll be leaving again?"

Horatio looked over to the older man and saw that there was more there then the simple desire for an answer, Edward seemed braced for the possible reply.

"Nothing definite today, but I've been led to believe that I'll be going to the Indies fairly soon to take up some sort of Military Governorship. Why don't you come along with me, Edward? The warm weather there would be good for you, get you out of the English damp and cold. You could relax in the sun there."

Edward seemed uninterested in the possibility, but said, "Well, perhaps. I'll think on it."

"I don't like thinking about you here alone for a year or more. I do hope that you'll come with me. Besides, I'll miss you terribly, you know that I always do when we're apart."

"You're just worried that I'll up and die on you when you're away."

"Edward, for God's sake..."

"Horatio, after thirty years you should be able to tell when I'm teasing you! You're still much too serious. God, you were the most earnest Midshipman I ever saw, and when you made Acting Lieutenant…well, you seemed practically made of starch. At least you calmed down a bit when you got your commission, thank God, or you would have been insufferable. Now that you're a Commodore you're becoming stiff as a ramrod again."

"You never complained of that before", he commented somewhat dryly.

A raised eyebrow was his only reply.

Preston entered silently, carrying a bottle of quite good port. It had been a gift from their old friend, General Lord Edrington upon his last visit a month ago. He had finally decided to retire and had taken the time to tell certain of his acquaintances personally.

He had seemed unsure about what their reaction would be to his decision to step down from the army career he had prided himself on for so long. When Edward had asked him his reasons for leaving he had commented, gruffly, "Can't sit a damn horse all day anymore. And I'll be damned if I'll ride a damn desk."

After Kit had left, Edward had gone into a depression that had yet to lift. The whole idea of aging seemed to be weighing on him lately, though he absolutely refused to discuss it, preferring to lose himself in his own thoughts.

Horatio was doing everything that he could think of to relieve him of the darkness he felt, but could manage only limited and temporary success. He feared to leave the older man alone for an extended period and was worried that he might feel forced to turn down his new assignment because of it.

He reached over to touch Edward. Looking at the hand, as familiar as his own, he saw the brown spots that hadn't been there a few years ago and the veins more prominent than they used to be. His own hand still seemed the same as always, his skin not all that much different than ever. His hair was still dark and thick, his figure still trim.

Edward's limbs had shrunk, having the look of almost being withered. The skin, always so tawny, had the look of crepe now. His hair, gone gray long ago, was thinning. His eyes, always one of his most striking features, were starting to lose the almost black color that had been so arresting; beginning to cloud over with cataracts. Horatio would read to him now, his eyes no longer able to see the words easily.

Horatio knew that this would end soon and his heart broke with the knowledge. He wished with every fiber in him for just a little more time.

Edward's plate of food sat untouched in front of him. "God, I hate being old."

Horatio rose and moved two feet over to the other chair, standing beside the man who had been his mainstay for over thirty years. Kneeling by his side, he put one arm around the shrunken shoulders, the other caressing the lined cheek. "After all these years you still don't understand what it is about you that I love so very much, do you?" He spoke gently. "When I look at you, I see you on the quarterdeck of the Indy, stubborn, refusing to surrender when outnumbered by the French. Or rowing with your own hands to save your men when the ship was becalmed. I see the look on your face when you saw me off onto that plague ship, knowing that I would likely die, and then the happiness on your face when we returned unharmed." Edward looked at his face, so close to his own. "I see your face the first night we made love. I was frightened to death, and you took care that I was alright."

Horatio's fingers carefully wiped the tears that were leaving trails down the lined cheeks.

"I see you charming the local gentry in a dozen different ports, handsome in your uniform and you tearing a strip off of some crew member who hadn't done his duty as he should."

He kissed the leathered skin on the beloved face. "I feel your mouth on mine to wake me at dawn for lovemaking, and I feel your arms around me as we fall asleep naked against each other."

"Horatio, I…" He shook his head, unable to continue, tears again spilling from his eyes.

"You are the other half of my soul, you are my dearest love. You have been my home and my anchor and my shelter for all these years." He smiled, self-conscious. "You are my knight in shining armour and you have battled dragons for me. And you will be in my heart as long as it continues to beat." He continued to stroke and kiss the aged face. "My Edward."

He held the old man as he cried on his shoulder.

"I'll have Preston pack your things. You'll come to the Indies with me." The gray head nodded against his shoulder.

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