Fic:: Small Acts of Chivalry

[raven]

Oh dear, I seem to have written a crossover involving dragons. forthwritten is to blame for the marine life in this story.

Fic:: Small Acts of Chivalry
by Raven
PG-13, gen, crossover; Temeraire/Master and Commander. Everything is better with dragons.

For shimgray, because he started it.

---

It began with a small act of chivalry, a mere trifle. A man staring at the ground dropped a trinket; Jack Aubrey, cheerful from the sunny morning and the pretty chambermaid, reached down, scooped it up on the tip of his sword and called, "Sir, your property."

The man turned; he was wearing a green coat and cravat, bright, and the sun must be as warm on his face as on Jack's, but there was still a droop in the way he held his head. His eyes widened at the glitter on the sword-tip, and he held out his hands. Jack let it drop neatly, and his new acquaintance tucked away the twist of gold into his pocket. "Thank you," he said sincerely.

"There's many a slip 'twixt harbour and home," said Jack, pleased with his own wit; Stephen had taken to disallowing him from speaking for whole minutes following witticisms.

"It would have pained me greatly to lose something that has so recently come into my possession. I am much obliged to you, Captain Aubrey."

"Why, it was nothing at all," Jack said, easily. "I happened to be looking, was all. But you have the advantage of me, sir."

"Your name has been much spoken around these parts," said the stranger, frankly, a slight smile lighting up the angularity of his features. "My name is Laurence, lately of the Reliant."

Jack remembered the ship in some vague terms; he had never laid eyes on her, but all ships' names had a certain resonance for him, appearing and reappearing in news and dispatches. "Lately?" he said, uncertainly, not wishing to cause undue offence, but he had no recollection of the Reliant being taken or sunken, and nothing else save misconduct of the highest order would strip a captain of his vessel. And then there was that small crack in the man's demeanour, the slight inclination towards loss. Jack swallowed; he didn't like to go on.

"Lately," Laurence said firmly, brushing off his coat and picking up a number of parcels he had set down on the cobbles beside him. "Thank you" – this to Jack, who handed up the brown-paper packages, roughly-wrapped books with beautifully coloured covers. "I am always carrying books, these days, it seems to me. My thanks for your kindness, Captain. If I may be of assistance to you while I am in port, pray think no further."

Jack smiled. "You may be of assistance to me at this very moment, sir. I have on my crew a physician, also a naturalist; he will be greatly interested to know where one may acquire such handsome volumes on the flora and fauna of the region."

Laurence paused a moment, and something dark flashed in his gaze. "Would you allow me the pleasure of your company on my way to port, Captain?" he said, at some length. "It is some time since I had the opportunity to speak of naval matters."

"I cannot say I have pressing engagements," Jack said, after another pause. The non sequitur grated in its aspect, but he did not want to refuse, and the strangeness of the man intrigued him if it did nothing else. Their progress down the path from the Crown was rapid; the seagulls were flying in great loops and whirls, screeching on long swoops inland, and all around men were hard at work, some leading cattle, baying hideously, in the direction of the water.

When at last the vista of the harbour hove into view, Jack understood in a sudden shock of understanding: there was a dragon transport, rocking gently in the water some distance out, with boats, dwarfed by its immense size, already making their way out. "The Allegiance!" he cried. "I had heard that there should be a transport in port for some short time. Did you ever see anything like?"

Laurence looked like there was some emotion he was trying to keep from showing on his face. "Temeraire," he said, softly. Jack had seen pictures of that ship, its great swooping movements reminding him, in some paradoxical part, of the sea. He did not understand why Laurence had said its name, and then out on the broad sweep of deck, there was a swiftness and an uncoiling, and a great black head raising in response. The dragon did not flap in the unwieldy fashion of the gulls it had spooked; it rose and hovered, graceful, and crossed the thin stretch of water with one wingbeat. "Laurence" – its voice was deep, but suffused with great animation – "there is such a strange man on board the Allegiance."

"Take me to him, my dear," Laurence said. "Captain Aubrey, you are welcome aboard."

Jack muttered, "Lately of the Reliant," and stepped into the breach.

*

Upon being spilled onto the deck in undignified fashion, Jack was momentarily surprised to note that the "strange man" was not Chinese, despite the well-known presence of the embassy. Laurence was staring, and there was a baleful air to him: the man was most notable for his wielding of some very large metal objects near the dragon's muzzle.

"Sir," he called sharply, "might I request you identify yourself and your reasons for being aboard this vessel."

"I must beg your forgiveness, Captain Laurence," said the stranger. "Captain Riley was most kind in permitting my presence, and you yourself must be well aware of the unprecedented nature of this opportunity, for a naturalist. It is most" – he waved his callipers – "unusual."

Laurence inhaled and steadied his voice before continuing. "Your name, sir."

"Captain Laurence," said Jack, stepping out where he could be seen, "my ship's physician, Dr. Maturin. He is the gentleman I spoke of before, who wanted books on the, what was it, fauna and such."

With only the briefest of pauses, Laurence said, "Pray welcome, Dr. Maturin; I have had the pleasure of making your captain's acquaintance in port."

"And I your dragon's." Stephen's smile was broad, and his eyes had that gleam of scientific enquiry. "He is a living, breathing wonder; I am astonished that he has been received so calmly by the scientific establishment."

"Needs must in a time of war, Doctor." Laurence was expressionless, but Jack recognised a captain's private pride in a first-rate. Steeling himself, he put a hand out to touch the gleaming black hide, and was surprised at the sun-warmed smoothness of it. He was disquieted as the dragon's body shifted and coiled around him, and suddenly he was at close quarters with large, lethal eyes and jaws that might have snapped him in two.

"You must be Captain Aubrey," said Temeraire. "It is a great pleasure to meet you. I have heard so much about you."

A flash of Laurence's smile from behind the dragon's head. "You are quite the talk of the Navy, Captain."

"Have you been in many battles?" Temeraire asked, eagerly. "Have they been fierce?"

"Don't harass Captain Aubrey, Temeraire," came Laurence's voice. "Dr. Maturin, are you sure you are quite comfortable?"

"Quite, quite" – but he sounded distracted, and Jack peered over and saw Stephen beginning to examine Temeraire's ruff, leaning perilously from a perch on his neck.

"It is better displayed in flight," said Temeraire, helpfully. "I might show you, if you wished. It is yet some time before dinner."

He did not wait for an answer, and Jack found it an exhilarating sensation, the rush of wind as the dragon took off from a standing position, rising swiftly, with Stephen's gasp of surprise almost lost in the downdraft. Given a second to recover from the jolt, Jack took a violent step back and confirmed for himself that there had been no heavy splashes in the water, nor a falling body, but he was not much reassured, regardless.

"I apologise for such a disturbance, Captain," said Laurence, catching his glance, and perhaps registering a further depth to Jack's expression, "and I entreat you not to concern yourself over Dr. Maturin's safety. Temeraire will keep him safe. Or at least," – and that sly flicker in his expression, once more – "as safe as he may be kept, at sea."

"You miss the sea, Captain." It was not the thing to have said; it had a savour of over-familiarity, of probing into private matters. But the silence that followed was not strained, was charged with a quality of mercy.

"In moods and lights." Laurence glanced at him. "Oh, I cannot say I do not think of a life not lived, of decks and salt and holystone. I went to sea at twelve. But" – and he had taken out the snatch of golden chain from his pocket, the trifle that had begun this – "one may love a ship, and never buy it a trinket."

The gold flashed in his hands. There was another surge of elemental forces, and Stephen's voice quite audible over a great rush of wings. "Jack, we have caught a porpoise!"

It landed on the deck with a resounding crash, bursting blubber. Temeraire followed, landing with somewhat more grace. "Laurence," he said, with great dignity, "I shall not eat the fish."

"It is not a fish," pointed out Stephen Maturin, with precious disregard for his own safety in disembarking from Temeraire's neck. "It bears live young."

"It is not a fish, and it is a gift to Dr. Maturin," Temeraire continued. "He has been telling me such interesting things as we have been flying, and I have learned about the things that live in the sea."

"My dear," – there was a soft puzzlement, and a rising intonation, to Laurence's voice, "I do not doubt your generosity, but does Dr. Maturin have need of an, er, a porpoise?"

Jack laughed, suddenly. "We'll not trespass on your hospitality any longer, Captain," he said brightly. "If we and the porpoise might be rowed ashore, I would be most grateful, and I thank you for your many kindnesses. It has been a most illuminating excursion."

The loading of the blubbery corpse might have proved problematic, without the aid of Temeraire's great claws, but the journey to shore occurred without incident, and there were men from the Allegiance able to carry it according to Stephen's direction. Jack paused, looking out to sea at the open flat surface of the dragondeck, the gentle rocking of the heaped black shape.

"It is a great prize as a specimen," Stephen was saying, "and it will prove of great interest, I am sure, once I have made the first incision between the pinnae..."

As silhouettes against the searing sunlight, Jack watched as Laurence settled by Temeraire's side, a tiny figure against a great and sinuous bulk, and Jack fancied he saw the tiny flicker of gold.

"Creatures are often fitted for what they do best," Stephen said, looking at his porpoise, and Jack went with him up on the path that led away from the sea.

finis

eta, a complaint:

forthwritten: also, don't blame me for what you did to the marine life!
loneraven: you wanted porpoises! you knew there was a dragon! was this going to end well?

Comments

[loneraven.livejournal.com]

*vbg* Thank you kindly! I'm really glad you liked it!