sunburned | Homeplot 1

"Scotland," I repeat, this time in a tone of hushed wonder. It isn't Castle Craig, or even my own world or time, but it is close enough. Standing here looking out the window, John's arms around me as I hold Will's hand, I just drink in the sight of a home I never thought I would see again.

"Find me something to wear," I say after a long moment. "And then take me to meet your crocodiles."

I feel rather certain that we'll be standing here gaping for longer than we ought to if somebody doesn't take charge. That they both technically far outrank me (if it matters) does not even cross my mind.

For a moment, Granby feels as though he can't string two thoughts together. He just looks at Laurence for a moment, thinking so hard that it must almost be possible to see the cogs turning.

"Do you think Catherine would oblige us, Laurence?" he ass, looking down at Julie critically. "Or one of the older mids, I suppose?"

"I suppose, but what on earth shall we tell them?" And there was also the question of Laurence's own clothing. He could not be seen leaving Granby's chamber in such a state, especially with the long walk to his own quarters, if they still remained. "When they want to know who you are, Julie, what shall we say?"

"You may claim me however you wish. I suppose 'sister' night be rather difficult to pull off, and 'wife' might come with more complications than you'd like." I bite my lip thoughtfully, trying to come up with a cover story adequate to the occasion. "Maybe nobody will notice me at all?" I say, knowing that is a futile hope.

"Can't I just sort of... sneak between your crews? If the dragons would allow it, of course. Each group may think I belong to the other, and hopefully we'll be gone before anyone notices I'm afraid of heights."

John frowns, considering the logistics of the thing.

"Honestly, you'd probably slip into Temeraire's crew easier than Iskierka's - wouldn't you say, Will?" He bites his lip thoughtfully, hands set on his hips. "Will has a tendency to...cause chaos, so there's always a certain amount of fluidity with his crew. I hold onto people better."

For a brief moment Laurence appeared inclined to refute Granby's accusation, but in the end he nodded, albeit somewhat reluctantly. "That may be, yet I hardly think she will be entirely inconspicuous even in my own crew. And you are forgetting, John, what if I no longer have one? Who knows what point in time we may have been drawn to? I may still be seen as a traitor."

"Sweetheart, I would be delighted to be on your crew." I am moved by the somewhat pained look on his face to embrace him and kiss his cheek. "Of course, it's entirely possible that neither dragon will abide the sight of me. Let's just dress me up like one of you and I will try not to call attention to myself."

I start to braid my hair in such a way as to easily hide it under a hat, once I have acquired one.

"I only know for certain that I don't want to hide in this bedroom all day, when there are dragons to be met."

John's already picking around his somewhat untidy room, finding suitable clothes for himself. He dresses, more or less, makes himself respectable enough; unbidden, he remembers the fact that he was barely wearing his shirt the first time Laurence ever set eyes on him.

"I'll go," he says. "I'll talk to Hardcourt and I'll go by your quarters too, Will. Find out the lay of the land, as it were. Pick up some clothes for you that actually fit." He flashes a quick grin, leaning down to give Julie a sweet kiss on the mouth and then lifting his head to catch Laurence's mouth too, no less sweetly.

Heading for the door, he glances over his shoulder. "You're to make yourselves comfortable, of course."

"There is little else for us to do," Laurence said in reply, though he showed little sign of doing as Granby had suggested. He was tense in a way that he was not often on the island and, long after the other man had left, he persisted in pacing the stone floor, glancing anxiously out the window each time that he passed it. It had been some time since he had been in a situation to merit such behavior, yet he was a captain still and until he knew the specifics of this latest predicament he would be on his guard.

I am nervous about meeting the dragons, vaguely worried that they won't approve of me in some way, and a little bit apprehensive about how the other aviators might react to my presence, but I am not afraid here. I am back in Scotland, and regardless of the year and the existence of dragons, I feel like I have come home. Home, with these men who I love.

All in all, I am quite happy. Or I would be, if Laurence were not so obviously agitated over something about which I know only the vaguest of details. I really hate to see him like this, when he should only be excited about seeing his dragon again. I finish braiding my hair, and look in vain for a mirror.

"Does this look all right, Will?" I ask, depending on his honesty as well as hoping I might offer him even the smallest of distractions.

Laurence looked over at Julie, ashamed of his behavior. He had been so preoccupied with his own thoughts and worries that he had neglected her entirely. Despite worrying at length about how she might be viewed by the rest of the covert, he had nonetheless managed to overlook her presence in the room until she had cause to speak.

"Of course it does. You must forgive my inattentiveness, please. It is in my nature at times to use up the period before an action indulging in worry. John would no doubt call me foolish."

I might not quite understand precisely why he's so worried about being here, but I don't think that I would go so far as to call him 'foolish'. There s obviously something bothering him, and I know him well enough to know he must have a very good reason for it.

"What action?" I smile at him gently and cross the room to take both of his hands in mine. "You're going to see your Temeraire. Aren't you pleased? I know you've missed him so much."

"I meant no action in a military sense." And he devoutly wished that it should remain so. "I merely meant that I am uncertain as to what my course of action must be here. When I was last in England I was not a much favored man in a nation at war. For all that we know that may still be the general state of things. I would not resist my government's wishes, but I would not see you harmed, Julie. Not for my sake and not in a battle. John speaks of placing you aboard my crew, but what if Temeraire should be called to action?"

After seeing her so wronged on their trip to her own time, he would do all in his power to protect her from further ill-treatment.

"You followed me into definite danger. Don't you think I would willingly follow you into what is only a possibility? I would go anywhere with you, or for you. Because I know without a doubt that you would do the same for me." I squeeze his hands hard to punctuate my point. "That said, I would be useless on a flying dragon. I would not complain at all to be left behind on the ground."

Her words were comforting and Laurence gave a brief, reassured smile in return. He truly was glad to have her as a continued presence in their lives, even if he did worry at times. "I shall speak to John on the matter. You shall remain on the ground if you wish, I promise."

"Well, don't leave behind if you don't have to. I wouldn't want to offend the dragons, if it would. I would fly for them. I've done it for lesser reasons than the approval of dragons." I laugh suddenly, as a bit of silliness occurs to me. "I desperately want your dragons to like me, but I rarely care about people. The last person I felt like this about was you."

"I daresay I ought to feel flattered," Laurence said with a smile as he have her hands a quick squeeze. "Though I hope you were not unduly worried that my approval would be hard to come by."

"I did worry, at first, that you would expect me to live up to my grand name, and my title. You can ask John; he laughed at me many times when I said so. But know I know you like me whether I'm a Lady or not." I smile up at him, very content with his company to distract me from the impending excitement of dragons. "It isn't a thing I worry about anymore."

"Good. I am certain the dragons shall adore you just as much as we already do, my dear. There is no way they could do otherwise," he said confidently. At the very least they would surely approve of the golden coloring of her hair as well as her title.

"Dragons," I say with a little shiver of delight at the thought that one of my childhood fantasies is about to come true. "If I ever see any of my brothers again, they will turn green with envy. It's the first thing I shall tell them, that I've met dragons."

"And they are apparently waiting for us," says Granby, picking that moment to reappear with an arm full of clothes and a piece of toast, into the bargain.

"I simply cannot fathom that it's like we were never gone," he says, puzzled, dropping clothes on the bed and sprawling in an available chair. "Catherine sends her regards. And I ran into Jane Roland in the hall."

"And what did they think of you wanting clothes in my size?" I rummage through the pile and pull out some likely looking trousers and a shirt, and give John's toast a covetous glance.

"And how many people is that supposed to feed?"

"Just myself," he says, grinning, though he's already tearing it into two pieces for her. "There's plenty more where that came from. And Jane did look at me somewhat askance." As Laurence will no doubt testify, Granby's proclivities are not widely known, even in the Corps, but he does have the distinction of being one of the few young Aviators who has not ended up in Admiral Roland's bed over the years.

I consume the toast in short order, and though I am longing for a true breakfast, I'm sure it can wait until after greeting the dragons.

"I suppose I can live with a reputation as the girl who finally captured the elusive Granby."

"I daresay that as such you shall soon be subjected to the full scrutiny of his peers," Laurence said rather dryly, adjusting his neckcloth before tucking it neatly beneath his jacket. Though he knew the situation was most likely temporary it nonetheless felt good to be able to wear the full uniform of a captain once more. "Aviators can be a dreadfully inquisitive lot when it suits."

"Don't make it sound like there's hundreds of them, for the love of God," says Granby, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, as he makes himself decent (though not, admittedly, as decent as Laurence has managed to). "Although, I do imagine Jane Roland will want to get the measure of you for a number of reasons, love," he says, gaze flickering from Julie to Laurence. "I am not the only with...peers."

"I'm sure that Flight Officer Julia MacKenzie, whose extremely common and therefore untraceable name is not even technically a lie, currently of Temeraire, can stand up to anything. Wait, do you have Flight Officers? Or am I a Midshipman? Midwingman?" I do enjoy coming up with a new identity, and this one is much nicer than Eva Seiler. "I have been dying to meet this Admiral Roland ever since I first heard of her, anyway. It will be fine."

I put on my own neckcloth, pleased that fashion will hide my scars without looking odd, and then I pause and get the full impact of Captain William Laurence, in his full and proper glory.

"You are positively dashing."

Laurence smiled politely, pleased to have such a compliment directed at him, yet not in any way about to let it go to his head. He did not purposefully set out to be dashing when he put on his uniform, but merely decent. "Thank you. Such access to proper clothing is a welcome change."

"Oh, please don't encourage him," says Granby, opening the door once he's sure everyone's fully decent. "He'll begin to abuse my clothing choices on the island with renewed vigor." He looks at Laurence. "Pavillions before breakfast?"

"Credit where it is due, John. He looks glorious." I am teasing them both, though I am absolutely honest about my opinion here.

"Dragons," I say firmly. "Then breakfast."

To Laurence's mind the question hardly even needed asking. He had not seen Temeraire properly for the span of a year. Naturally he wished to see him now. "Dragons, if you please."

"I did rather think so," he says, already heading out of the door, turning down towards the steps that will lead them down to the Pavillions. "We'll see Temeraire first, shall we? Or rather, I'll walk over with you and show my face and then I'll go and see herself. You can bring Julie along when you're ready."

I refuse to admit something so babyish, but I do agree that I really ought to start with Temeraire, who by all accounts does not breathe fire.

"That sounds sensible," I say, and resist the urge to take Will's arm in the gentlemanly manner I know he prefers, when I am supposed to be a crew member and nothing more to anybody who might look at me.

Laurence, for his part, had to resist no such gentlemanly urges. In fact, he had to resist the desire to abandon the bonds of polite behavior and his companions both, and rush to Temeraire without them. "It sounds entirely sensible."

Homeplot 1

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