10 drabbles, 100 words each. Prompts by lorency.

1. Magic 2. Demon 3. Heritage 4. Powers 5. Psychic
6. Hero 7. Family 8. Immortal 9. Protection 10. Dreams

( Drabbles under here )

If you're interested, let me know the one drabble that you'd like to see expanded.

[Poll #1255868]

( Drabbles, etc, WB/HH, G-R )

(((((iansmomesq)))))
♥♥♥

The tense unhappiness that had so consumed Hornblower of late had vanished as suddenly and completely as thunder after a storm. He often laughed now and joked easily with both the Comte and Marie – Bush listened to the endless flow of French which sounded strangely discordant to his ears. Ever thoughtful, the Comte had tried to include Bush in their conversations, but Bush knew that his halting French and awkward manners were out of place amongst their elegance.

Bush sat alone, stump throbbing and knee aching, and wondered that he should prefer the company of a boat to his captain.

It had been three weeks since Amiens and two weeks since Bush had returned to Chichester. The cottage was the same, the town had not changed. His sisters had welcomed him effusively. The food, though plain, was much better than what he might have expected aboard one of Her Majesty’s ships. There was no hard work to be done, no endless watches through endless nights. He ought to have been content – and he was, in a fashion – but he found it hard to summon much interest for each day.

It was another week before he realised that he was homesick.

quietcontrary: Two months ago, phantomsangel and I had the brilliant idea of writing the 132 LJ moods as drabbles in the Hornblower fandom. Then we realised that 132 drabbles is a lot and we're kind of out of breath after 42 of them *g*

phantomsangel: We wrote these mostly late at night (well, for me) and can neither confirm nor deny being under the influence of any substances whilst writing. Please be kind, as writing 143 (Whatever) odd drabbles does odd things to the mind.

So - we present drabbles Accomplished through to Ecstatic. Ratings G through to R; het, gen and slash.

(If you'd like to comment on an individual drabble, feel free to do so as a reply to the drabble itself. That way it keeps things nice and tidy and pretty!)

(Also, if you'd like to take up part of the A-Z of Hornblower drabbles, or are vaguely interested or something, leave a comment here!)

Title: Body Language
Words: 100
Notes: worldlingo again. For iansmomesq, who inspired this with her comment to my last drabble: "Poor suffering Bush. If Hornblower really loved him he would have taught him some French during their time on the Loire. :)"

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The world was scented with sunshine and the grass they had crushed beneath their bodies.

“Dites-l'en français,” Hornblower instructed. “Aujourd'hui est vendredi.”

Bush only snorted and shifted to rest his head against Hornblower’s chest more comfortably.

“I will teach you French,” vowed Hornblower. “Mercredi nous verrons la mer.”

Bush sighed, his breath hot against Hornblower’s skin, and strangely, Hornblower shivered.

“Nous avons été à terre pendant cinq… cinq mois.”

Hornblower’s breath caught; Bush was demonstrating skill with his tongue that he had never displayed while speaking French.

“Je veux…” A soft moan was torn from his lips. “Holy god, Bush!”

___

( Translation )

Title: A Question of Mathematics
Words: 100
Concrit: Very, very welcome

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Hornblower had come to know Bush as intimately as he knew his ship. Two handspans from throat to navel, twelve slow breaths a minute. He knew the planes of his body, the angles of his smile. Had found himself, once, calculating the refraction from those blue-grey eyes.

What he could not comprehend – what frightened him – was how the pure arithmetic of the situation gave rise not to cold logic, but to heated emotion.

Hornblower’s mouth hardened for a moment. The answer was simple. Remove the variable, simplify the equation.

Bush would not understand. But then, Bush did not understand mathematics.

Title: Désespoir
Rating: G
Word count: 100
Pairings or characters involved: Horatio, Archie
Character to give rum to: Bush

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The madness of grief had driven him here, to this place, at this time.

The tide swirled around Horatio’s legs, gently pulling him towards the sea. It minded him of Archie’s embrace, gentle and strong and irresistible. Horatio took a step deeper. The colour of the waves were the blue of Archie’s eyes. They were a blue he could happily drown in.

To summon a selkie male: at the high tide, make your way to the shore and shed seven tears into the sea.

Horatio bowed his head and wept seven bitter tears, then cursed himself for not truly believing.