“We are – going to Moorfields?” Hennessey asks, his voice strangled. Alfred turns, and oh – he’s right there, he could be dead in a moment, just one single, satisfying moment that would cost both Hennessey and James everything. And that – that is perhaps part of the intent. Alfred is not smiling, but his demeanor -“I assumed you would be pleased,” Alfred responds, and the urge to kill him burns,

From Full of Grace:

Hennessey is thinking one thing right here: murder. how do I murder him
and make it look like it was an ordinary carriage accident? because make
no mistake – Alfred is out for blood, here, James’ or Hennessey’s or
both. He’s a vicious, horrible spider of a man, and he’s trying to
provoke Hennessey into doing something stupid, something that Alfred can
use to get his claws into the Navy as a whole. He’s sitting there in
that carriage practically daring Hennessey to do what he wants to do,
and Hennessey knows that he absolutely can’t if he wants to have
anything left of his career or any chance of helping James or any
respect for himself given that he’d be betraying hundreds of men under
his command. If you’re looking for a mental image for this, imagine one
of those crisp December days where it seems like it could snow and
everything’s far too bright somehow and yet there’s something very dark
going on inside that carriage. I wanted to dive into what’s going
through Hennessey’s head and the political reality that he deals with
day by day where he has to make a hundred horrible decisions for the
sake of saving as many lives as he can. I didn’t want him to come across
as someone cold and unfeeling, just someone who’s under far, far too
much pressure and has so very little he can do safely in public and this
gets into that a bit. I also wanted to give everyone a glimpse of the
monster that Hennessey, Miranda, James, and Thomas face in this setting,
since we weren’t going to see much of him in the rest of the piece. I
wanted to get across the lurking, malevolent thing that’s sitting in the
shadows, pulling the strings, making the end conclusion almost
inevitable because there’s just no other way to deal with someone like
that sometimes.

“Mr. Featherstone!” She called the man’s name, and his bearded face appeared at the rail, the look on his face one of alarm.“Yes, ma’am?”“Turn us around. I wish to return to the island – I believe we may be needed after all.”“Ma’am?”“Swiftly, please,” she ordered, and Rackham’s quartermaster stared. “I gave an order, Mr. Featherstone,” she reminded him sharply, and he shook himself.“Of course, ma’am,” he answered and she turned back toward the rail.

From Cup of Their Deserving:

When I first started writing Madi, I remember feeling this sense of overwhelming relief, actually, because her mind is an organized place. It’s quiet and calm in there, and she takes no shit and gives none in return. When she gives an order, she expects it to be obeyed without delay, and I love writing her because of all those things. That said – this is a frisson of disquiet, the sound of footsteps in the library that don’t belong there, Madi realizing that something is wrong, badly so, with that little shiver of foreboding that you get sometimes when you realize that something has gone terribly, terribly awry. There’s a sense of urgency here, and of course we all know what she’s going to arrive in time to avert, but in terms of the story, this is just a little bit of backstory to where we start off. I chose to do this as a flashback because the image of Madi stepping into the cabin to tend to James is one that grabs you immediately, whereas this feels like an extension to a scene that we’re not seeing. The partner to this, if it had one in a linear narrative, would be James having a truly horrifying conversation with Silver and then getting the shit beaten out of him and… well, hasn’t the man suffered enough on camera without adding more?

As to what Featherstone’s thinking – I think, just for long enough, he forgets that he’s not supposed to take Madi back to the island, and by the time he remembers, it’s too late and he’s going to take the blame anyway so he might as well do what she says.

“I suspected as much,” he answered. “I’ve a carriage waiting outside which should fit the four of us, given that neither you nor Lord Hamilton have any more substance to you than the stair railing. I will speak to my driver, and then you will all accompany me to my home, since Lord Marlborough and his brother have eyes and ears everywhere else. You will all rest and be fed and I will see if I can contact Ned Russell, whom I suspect will be very interested in Lord Alfred’s business dealings.”

From To the Upper Air:

What’s that saying? Give a boy a fish, and you feed him for a day, teach a boy to fish and find yourself feeding him and at least three other people and running around keeping them out of trouble for the rest of your career? That seems to be Hennessey’s general experience here, and he doesn’t mind it nearly as much as you’d think, although in this case I’d imagine he’d really, really like James to stop kicking over hornets’ nests that are quite this big and important. On the other hand, though – from what I’ve seen, George Churchill can’t have been very popular among the other admirals. He was an effective army officer but didn’t really do much in his office as admiral, and the aforementioned Ned Russell fell out with him over a dispute about rank. Hennessey is pleased to finally be given a reason to see the asshole removed from his branch of her Majesty’s service. James and company are no doubt just relieved to have at least one powerful ally in the form of Hennessey, and to have a place to go where they’ll be at least safer than they are at present. They’re all running on fumes at this point, and a brief respite is just what the admiral ordered.

This might, in retrospect, be the first time anyone’s shown Thomas anything resembling paternal care – that’s got to be quite a change for him and Silver both. James, meanwhile, is surprisingly the one of the group that’s had something resembling an acceptable childhood and has gotten kind of used to this.

“You know James?” Thomas asked, answering John’s question, and John raised an eyebrow. “Imagine him, but older and less impulsive.”

From To the Upper Air:

You know – every time I write Hennessey, I find myself thinking, “oh. so that’s where James gets this bit of his personality.” Hennessey may not be his actual father, but he was James’ mentor and the next best thing in James’ own words. James respected him, which is to say that he probably fit the pattern of the other people in James’ life that he treats as equals – stubborn, with a feisty temper, intelligent as hell, and willing to treat James like he matters. And yet, Hennessey is an admiral – that speaks of a level of self-control that James can only dream of. Still – I can very much see Hennessey having risen to a captain’s rank and later earning an admiral’s pennant through action, not through money exchanged, and James learned a lot from him, so yes, I do in a way see him as an older version of what James might have been, had things not gone the way they did. Thomas knows James enough to recognize that when James talks about Hennessey. James would deny it all to hell and back because he’s had ten years to think some very unflattering thoughts about Hennessey, but if he tells the truth, he probably knows that it’s more than a little bit accurate. Silver here is doing his usual thing, which is to say getting a mental map of a person before he meets them if possible, because if ever there was someone who emphatically did not like surprises when it comes to interactions with people, it’s Silver.

“James McGraw,” Hennessey muttered under his breath, “when I find you, I am going to have you skinned. No. Nevermind that – I’ll do the skinning m’self.”

From To the Upper Air:

So – I very much see Admiral Hennessey as one of those men in an exalted position that didn’t get there through buying his way up through the ranks. I see him as someone who’s a bit more rough around the edges than he likes to admit in polite company, born a commoner and got to where he is through hard work and no small measure of shrewdness, so he generally knows what he’s about, and yet here – he has absolutely no clue what’s going on. He’s more than a little bit scared – he hasn’t heard from James in weeks, and the last time he did hear from him, they were having a kind of argument that wasn’t quite resolved. He knows that James has gotten involved with Thomas, and he doesn’t trust Thomas one tiny little bit. He’s afraid that the sudden breach that’s opened between himself and James might push his son to do something reckless, and he can’t for the life of him figure out what he’s done that has caused James to mistrust him, although he knows there’s something. In short – he’s feeling strong emotion, and so his accent slips just a bit and shows a bit of the man underneath the wig, so to speak. I kind of wanted to show a bit more of his personality here, because we don’t get to see too much of him as a person in the previous scene, other than that he’s not a total ogre and has heart enough to take in a frightened boy who had nowhere else to go. He doesn’t mean a word of this, of course, but under ordinary circumstances he’d be having a sharp word with James because there are rules, damn it!

In the larger story – idk, this is just a short little character beat that functions to show us that Hennessey is searching for James so that his later appearance doesn’t come completely out of the blue and ruin the flow of the story through too much exposition.

“Another chance,” Hennessey says, “is all I ask. Thank you, James.” James gives him a half-smile.“You’re welcome. Besides,” he adds, “I can hardly pass up the chance to keep calling you Admiral Henseed, now can I?”Hennessey rolls his eyes.“Damn the boy,” he says jokingly. “If I hear one chicken noise from anything lacking the requisite feathers, I shall mutiny.”

From Apologia ad Iphigeniam:

This is blatant releasing of tensions that had been building in this fic and now they’re done and we’re making chicken jokes. That’s it – four-year-old mispronunciation of a name leads to James and Hennessey starting to relax around each other again because damn the kid’s too cute and they didn’t actually want to fight with each other in the first place, although James was up for that if that’s what Hennessey was there for. Gods help Hennessey if he ever agrees to feed the chickens to help Miranda out – Thomas and James will never let him hear the end of it!

“Oh thank Christ,” he murmurs, and Miranda gives him a horrified look.“What the hell are you talking about?” Thomas’ voice, sharp and frightened, comes from next to James, and Hennessey meets his eyes.“I am thanking God Almighty that I am not walking into this cabin to find either one of you suddenly dying,” Hennessey answers crisply. James gives him an incredulous look. “Breathe, boy,” Hennessey instructs.

From Full of Grace:

So, when I wrote this, I distinctly remember thinking “oops, I suppose having Hennessey walk in, find James breathing like he’s about to die, and saying, “oh thank God” is probably something Thomas would find a bit off/be rather less than happy about.” At this point in this story, Thomas and Hennessey are better friends than they were, but if you recall, Thomas did say at one point earlier that Hennessey would make right what he had said to James and Thomas still doesn’t trust that Hennessey won’t repeat what he sees as his previous mistakes re: James. Hennessey, meanwhile, is tired as hell, coming down off of an adrenaline rush, and now he’s just relieved that this isn’t anything worse than what it is. Miranda, meanwhile, is focused entirely on James, and probably doesn’t really even register this exchange much because she’s just as tired as Hennessey, and just wants whatever this is fixed so that they can all get some sleep as a start on fixing things. James, of course, is occupied with “wtf do you mean I’m not dying, I can’t fucking breathe.” I hadn’t intended to have this section in there at all, actually, but the characters wanted to angst a bit, so… *shrugs* I do what they say. In a larger sense, I suppose this moment is where they all start to function as a family unit instead of being distinct parts/teams that have been split off.