Fic: The Neckcloth Incident
Some creativity at last! I still fail at titles, though.
Title: The Neckcloth Incident
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: Laurence has a strange obsession with his neckcloth.
Granby hesitated outside the door to Laurence’s room, unsure of whether he dared to knock. He had been Laurence’s first lieutenant for some weeks now, but the captain’s ideas of propriety and manners still confused him and he was not quite sure if calling at his captain’s room uninvited was quite proper. But Laurence was late for supper, which was most unlike him and after having sent Roland to confirm that he was not in Temeraire’s clearing, Granby had felt it his duty to make sure that nothing was wrong. So he gathered his courage and knocked. There was a moment of silence, then Laurence’s voice, sounding slightly strained, was heard.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s Granby, sir.”
There was another pause, then Laurence answered:
“You may come in.”
Granby opened the door to find the room in a surprisingly disordered state. The wardrobe and drawers were wide open, their contents spread all across the bed, Laurence’s otherwise neat clothing rumpled and unfolded.
“Is all well?” Granby asked, looking closely at his captain. While there was no obvious physical change in his appearance, there was something slightly different about his posture. He looked tense, with none of his usual pride and confidence, and his eyes flicked nervously around the room as he answered.
“Yes, yes, quite well.”
As Laurence offered no further explanation, Granby cleared his throat and ventured:
“You will miss supper.”
“Ah, yes, I will be down in a moment.”
“There will be no food left.”
Certain now that something was not quite right with his captain, Granby was determined to find out the source of his worries, or at the very least get him to behave normally and have a proper meal. Apparently sensing his determination, Laurence squirmed uncomfortably and admitted:
“I cannot seem to find my neckcloth.”
Granby blinked, wondering faintly if his captain was joking or if he was just terribly bad at making up excuses.
“Let us go down to supper,” he tried again.
“But I cannot find my neckcloth,” Laurence repeated, as if he had not been properly understood the first time.
“Surely you don’t need-“ Granby said, confused, but the captain interrupted him.
“Yes, I do!”
“But I am sure no one would mind-” Granby tried helplessly, but Laurence shook his head, looking almost close to hysterics.
“No, I need my neckcloth.”
Granby made one last attempt to grasp the situation, before finally giving in and saying:
“Shall I help you look for it?”
Laurence nodded.
“Please.”
So Granby began rummaging through the clothes and drawers, their owner peering nervously over his shoulder all the while.
“It is not here, is it?” Laurence said miserably after some minutes of unsuccessful searching.
“It appears not,” Granby said, straightening up from where he had been looking under Laurence’s bed. “But I really don’t think you need-“ he began, but stopped when he caught sight of the wretched look on his captain’s face, and said instead “You can have mine.”
As he tied his neckcloth around the other man’s neck, Granby thought to himself that serving under Laurence would probably mean more and stranger work than with any other captain, but to his surprise he found that he did not particularly mind it.
The moment the fabric touched Laurence’s skin, his whole body seemed to relax, his shoulders straightened and he was somehow restored to his usual self. Enough so, apparently, to realise the irregularity of his behaviour and take an awkward step away from Granby.
“Thank you,” he said stiffly, adjusting the neckcloth. “I must apologise...”
Granby waved his hand dismissively, eager to spare them both the embarrassment.
“It is nothing. Now let us have some supper.”
Title: The Neckcloth Incident
Rating: PG
Spoilers: None
Summary: Laurence has a strange obsession with his neckcloth.
Granby hesitated outside the door to Laurence’s room, unsure of whether he dared to knock. He had been Laurence’s first lieutenant for some weeks now, but the captain’s ideas of propriety and manners still confused him and he was not quite sure if calling at his captain’s room uninvited was quite proper. But Laurence was late for supper, which was most unlike him and after having sent Roland to confirm that he was not in Temeraire’s clearing, Granby had felt it his duty to make sure that nothing was wrong. So he gathered his courage and knocked. There was a moment of silence, then Laurence’s voice, sounding slightly strained, was heard.
“Who’s there?”
“It’s Granby, sir.”
There was another pause, then Laurence answered:
“You may come in.”
Granby opened the door to find the room in a surprisingly disordered state. The wardrobe and drawers were wide open, their contents spread all across the bed, Laurence’s otherwise neat clothing rumpled and unfolded.
“Is all well?” Granby asked, looking closely at his captain. While there was no obvious physical change in his appearance, there was something slightly different about his posture. He looked tense, with none of his usual pride and confidence, and his eyes flicked nervously around the room as he answered.
“Yes, yes, quite well.”
As Laurence offered no further explanation, Granby cleared his throat and ventured:
“You will miss supper.”
“Ah, yes, I will be down in a moment.”
“There will be no food left.”
Certain now that something was not quite right with his captain, Granby was determined to find out the source of his worries, or at the very least get him to behave normally and have a proper meal. Apparently sensing his determination, Laurence squirmed uncomfortably and admitted:
“I cannot seem to find my neckcloth.”
Granby blinked, wondering faintly if his captain was joking or if he was just terribly bad at making up excuses.
“Let us go down to supper,” he tried again.
“But I cannot find my neckcloth,” Laurence repeated, as if he had not been properly understood the first time.
“Surely you don’t need-“ Granby said, confused, but the captain interrupted him.
“Yes, I do!”
“But I am sure no one would mind-” Granby tried helplessly, but Laurence shook his head, looking almost close to hysterics.
“No, I need my neckcloth.”
Granby made one last attempt to grasp the situation, before finally giving in and saying:
“Shall I help you look for it?”
Laurence nodded.
“Please.”
So Granby began rummaging through the clothes and drawers, their owner peering nervously over his shoulder all the while.
“It is not here, is it?” Laurence said miserably after some minutes of unsuccessful searching.
“It appears not,” Granby said, straightening up from where he had been looking under Laurence’s bed. “But I really don’t think you need-“ he began, but stopped when he caught sight of the wretched look on his captain’s face, and said instead “You can have mine.”
As he tied his neckcloth around the other man’s neck, Granby thought to himself that serving under Laurence would probably mean more and stranger work than with any other captain, but to his surprise he found that he did not particularly mind it.
The moment the fabric touched Laurence’s skin, his whole body seemed to relax, his shoulders straightened and he was somehow restored to his usual self. Enough so, apparently, to realise the irregularity of his behaviour and take an awkward step away from Granby.
“Thank you,” he said stiffly, adjusting the neckcloth. “I must apologise...”
Granby waved his hand dismissively, eager to spare them both the embarrassment.
“It is nothing. Now let us have some supper.”