The whole world needs to be reading this fic by atropos_too, yo. It made despatches this morning/evening/whatever, but oh man. I'm sitting in the 9th floor of a four star hotel in the shopping district of an inland city that's 40 miles from one of the biggest deserts in the world, and I swear I can smell the sea.
His breath smokes on the pillow. The sheets, washed only in salt water for the last five months, can never be fully dried; they suck up the damp air of the cabin.Melancholy and atmospheric and intensely Age of Sail. I think I would have done certain elements differently, but man, there isn't enough of this kind of fic in fandom. It's just wonderfully Hornblower and sea and quiet and full of what I love best about Hornblower and Bush and Forester's writing. I mean, pieces like this could get me enjoying adjectives and adverbs again. :D