Decsiens Ambulare Denuo
Written for Waen.
Ned Land was no common, stupid sailor pressed into service and nearly nameless. When his companions spoke to him, he was Ned, friend Ned, or Master Land; not Land, not Landy, as he might have been called were he just a deckhand or even the bo'sun. He was the prince of harpooners, and by the straightness of his back and the odd dignity of his face, he knew it. So did every man aboard the Abraham Lincoln.
But here, in the Nautilus, he might just as well have been an ordinary sailor. There were no duties to perform and there was nothing to harpoon, and he grew restless, pacing in his room.
The ocean was right outside--when he was in the salon, it was separated from him only by a thick sheet of glass. It was there. It was so close it seemed he could touch it easily. But that was the cruelty of it! He couldn't quite.
He was permitted to walk on the top of Nautilus at times, but he had to be careful where he stepped and it was only two-hundred and fifty feet. He could walk it in twenty-five minutes if he were slow.
The truth of it was that he was trapped.
Conseil had grown very used to the tall, grave man walking back and forth in his room while he studied Monsieur Aronnax's journal of creatures or while he tried to sleep. He understood that Ned Land was unhappy, and he occasionally roused himself from his classifications to offer awkward words of sympathy.
Conseil's trouble was that he honestly did not know what to say. With the Professor, with Monsieur Aronnax, it was all a matter of 'what master pleases' or 'as master wishes' and the endless classifications of all the endless creatures. With Ned Land, whom he respected but was not in service to, it was a very troubling mess of what would be appropriate.
Usually he just patted Ned's broad shoulders gingerly or smiled a bit and held out one of Monsieur Aronnax's books as something to pass the time, only to get the shake of a head in return. He supposed he deserved it for not knowing what to do. But he was imperturbable as ever, and nodded before putting the book back or withdrawing his hands calmly.
The truth of it was that he was sorry for being unable to help.
Then, on The Day of the Cumana, as Conseil took to calling it in his head, things changed. For one thing, Ned seemed happy all day. That was a rare thing, which Conseil had only seen before when they went on land for that short time and hunted. But Ned enjoyed the fishing and took part in it, going along with Conseil's classifications and Monsieur Aronnax's cries of delight. However, it was the excitement of the cumana that truly elated him and made his grave face light up.
When Conseil picked up the big, flat fish, Ned shouted out a warning in the same breath as Monsieur Aronnax. He cried out at the same moment Conseil did, and ran to him more quickly that the Professor.
Conseil, for his part, lay where he'd fallen, looking up at the sky with huge eyes. His pale hair was completely mussed, and he had the appearance of a mad scientist whose experiment has just blown up in his face. He was terrified and he couldn't move, and he stayed with his eyes huge and babbled as Monsieur Aronnax and Ned Land rubbed and massaged him until the feeling came back into his arms.
Even after the pain and stiffness went, he was afraid to move, and instead just looked at everyone with his eyes still wide, until Ned laughed and carried him back to their room.
"All right now, Master Conseil; Mr. Aronnax says your circulation is back and you can move, so sit up there."
Conseil eyed him suspiciously and whispered, "I can't."
"Of course you can. Come now. I want to see that you're all right."
"I'm not all right."
"So you say."
"Can't move."
At that, Ned slid one hand behind Conseil's back and rested the other one on his knees and pushed him up until he was sitting. Conseil began to shake.
"Oh--"
"There you are. You see? You can sit up. Now stand. You should be able to do that."
Conseil suddenly looked surprised. "It hurt me! Oh! But I can sit--I shall stand--" The shock that the shock had worn off was wearing off, and he struggled to his feet before collapsing from the shaking. Ned helped him up off the floor. And there he stood--wobbling a little, but certainly standing.
"There, Master Conseil. You can stand properly. Walk a few steps."
Briefly, Conseil wondered if a man with a temper would be annoyed at the coddling he was receiving. Truth be told, however, he was rather enjoying the attention, and he took a tentative first step with Ned Land's arm supporting his shoulders.
He still stood.
He sneaked a look over his shoulder and saw that Ned was smiling rather; perhaps at the absurdity in the difference of their heights, or perhaps with pleased amusement that Conseil was pretending to learn to walk again, and learning well. With a bit of a smile himself, Conseil stepped again.
Yes, he could feel his feet moving and coming down on the floor, and he could feel Ned's arm still around his shoulders, and he was hardly shaking at all now. The feeling was all back, and he thought the only remembrance would be, the next day, a slight stiffness and a tender spot on the back of his head where he'd hit it falling.
"Excellent! Are you still going to have your revenge, Master Conseil, or have you had all you want to do with that fish, then?"
"My revenge?"
"Indeed! You told Mr. Aronnax to have the thing cooked up, as you'd take your revenge by eating it." The exhilaration of the scare was making Ned lively and talkative, and he related Conseil's request to Monsieur Aronnax nearly cheerfully. Conseil had almost never heard him cheerful since they came on board the Nautilus.
"Oh," he said, sounding as calm as ever, but actually feeling rather apprehensive.
"I should imagine it would make an interesting meal."
"I should imagine so," Conseil murmured.
Then he smiled, and turned about, and stood on his toes to kiss Ned Land on the cheek. As far as he was concerned, it was a perfectly natural thing to do. All his family had always exchanged kisses to express affection or thanks.
But Ned's arm tightened around his shoulders and Ned's face was suddenly very close to his and he suddenly realised he was receiving a kiss in return.
"Ned?" he asked when he had been at least partially let go.
"I'm sorry, Master Conseil," said Ned Land contritely, but he did not look it.
"No, no, no," Conseil replied, with his voice irritatingly level. He wondered briefly why he couldn't ever sound or feel excited when he ought to. "It's quite all right, dear Ned."
"Yes?"
"I enjoyed it," he confessed, ducking his head a little.
Ned kissed him again, but this time he knew what was happening and returned the kiss, noticing how much he had to stand on his toes and how funny Ned's beard felt against his face. Delighted, he lifted his hand so he could hold himself up a little better with Ned's shoulder, and Ned helped.
Conseil had never, in all the interesting years he'd spent in the service of Monsieur the Professor Aronnax, done anything remotely like this, and he had not lied when he told Ned Land he'd enjoyed it. He had, and he was. But it was a peculiar new feeling. He rather wished he had words and classifications for it, as that would make it more understandable, and instead, he had to give up--and just continue enjoying it. So he did.
They started and pulled apart at a gentle, concerned rap on the door; or rather, Ned Land started and Conseil looked over with his eyebrows ever so slightly raised.
"Conseil?" called Monsieur Aronnax's worried voice. "Are you all right?"
Conseil would have gone and opened the door and assured Monsieur Aronnax he was without a second thought, but Ned was more prudent. He quietly but firmly held Conseil back and straightened his clothes before stepping to the side and letting the man outside be admitted.
"Yes, master, I'm all right." Conseil's hair was even more mussed by the kisses, and he looked twice as much like a mad scientist. Monsieur Aronnax seemed worried.
"Are you quite sure?"
"If master pleases, certain. Ned has helped me to stand again; I was a little stiff in my arms and legs from the shock."
"All right. Captain Nemo has arranged for the preparation of your cumana for supper, and our presence is requested in the dining room."
"Thank you, master. We shall come in a moment."
"Good, good." Monsieur Aronnax nodded and left, shutting the door behind him. Conseil immediately went on a search for the comb.
"What shall I do, Ned?" he asked placidly as he searched. "I really do not want to eat it."
"You could tell him so. I fancy the sharks might like it." Ned Land stepped over to him and knelt to get the comb from under the bed. "Here."
"Thank you."
"My dear Conseil!" Once more, Ned kissed him, and he would have shivered with pleasure if he were not so equanimous. As it was, he smiled and leaned his tousled head on Ned's shoulder for a moment, then set about combing his hair.
That night, he slept in Ned's bed, curled up in his arms, and suffering from horrible pains due to the dreadful cumana but really very proud.
He had found a way to make Ned Land happy, a way that was better than books Ned didn't want to read or words of sympathy that were utterly meaningless. He'd found a way that made him happy too. True, he wouldn't always succeed, but to-night he had. He could again. That was good enough.
And calm as he was, unimpulsive as he always had been, he stretched his toes happily and kissed Ned Land insistently enough to wake him up and get a kiss and sleepy half-embrace in return.
Certainly good enough.
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