Work Text:
Title: The Sea Below Tarifa
Fandom: sea-going novels of Patrick O'Brien, Aubrey/Maturin series, particularly The Hundred Days
Word count: 600 words
Rating: Gen, PG-13
Summary: SPOILERS FOR THE HUNDRED DAYS!
Killick thinks about his friend Bonden. From the following prompt from my brother (who made me read the books): Something on Killick's private grief after Bonden dies.
Warning: character death
Disclaimer: The Hundred Days is entirely the product of Patrick O'Brien's genius, no harm is intended nor profit anticipated.
A/N: if you are not familiar with the sea-going novels of Patrick O'Brien this will probably be no fun at all! Unbeta'd. Please let me know if there are any howlers!
Killick dragged out Bonden's chest. It was half as wide as it was long and carved carefully of cherry wood. The carving was not intricate, but nor was it without skill, and Killick swayed slightly on his haunches as his eyes traced its familiar outline. Many's the time Killick had seen this chest in Bonden's hands, the thing being as useful and well-crafted as its maker.
Killick sniffed, each note of the low noise like a drawn out syllable. Killick used the sniff as the Commodore and the doctor played their instruments, producing notes and language which had to be learned to be fully understood.
He unfastened the catch, opened the chest and looked at Bonden's possessions. There were a pair of good white trousers and two or three clean neckerchiefs, a couple of shirts of common cloth, and a few coin. Wrapped in a piece of soft brown oilskin was a knife with an ivory and leather hilt (worn to a familiar grip). Killick knew that the Commodore, Captain as was then, had given the knife to Bonden as a gift for some loyal act.
Killick could not recall the act which prompted the gift but he could recall the disagreement which followed, prompted by his own sourness and chagrin. As he remembered, there was a lapse of two or three weeks between the upset and Bonden's willingness to accept his friendship, again, on easy terms.
He ran his stumpy fingers over the curved indent on the lid of the chest and dropped it back down, hiding the contents. His shipmates had already placed bids for the shirts, neckerchief and the knife. There had been three or four bids for the knife, and the other goods. As was their way, shipmates would bid and buy items from a lost mate's belongings and then return them to the haul to be bid on again. The money would be held safe by the Doctor until such time as it could safely be got to Bonden's people. Killick thought there was a sister down Weymouth.
Over days or a week, the bids would increase until someone accepted possession and eventually all the items would take on a new life in another seamate's chest.
Killick knew that he would have the knife. He would pay handsomely for it after the turn of others, but with him it would finally reside. He would keep it in his own box, more meanly made and less sturdy, and there it would rest, in its oilskin veil. Occasionally he would take it out and smoke a pipe under the starred sky and feel its weight in his hands.