que sera sera

Those beautiful moments shared in the loft faded in the days following. Everything Eleanor had feared would happen had finally come to fruition, beginning with Mutt’s terrible ascension to power and ending in Cecil Calyx’s slow, lonely demise surrounded by unfriendly faces while he called out for his niece. Her pride had prevented her from kneeling to the false heir even as her uncle struggled for breath, and his desperate face pleading for her was one she would never be able to forget, no matter that she hadn’t been there to see his final moments. She heard him when she slept, when she was awake, when she cried, and when she was too numb to – always the same strangled, uncomprehending question: Why weren’t you here, Ellie? What did I do to deserve this?

Eleanor had found that the only way to function was not to try functioning at all. It was easier to let herself succumb to the growing numbness within her. Rather than work through her feelings, she instead drowned them in ever strengthening beverages served at the Drunken Seagull – until she’d gotten so belligerently unruly that they’d thrown her out of even that upstanding establishment.

She huffed when she picked herself up from the sand, snapping something unintelligible but no less venomous at the shadowy maw. Turning away, she noticed an object glinting gold against the black backdrop it rested upon – and emblazoned on both sides, a familiar crest she’d recognize anywhere, even with her senses dulled as they were.

That was how the dethroned princess found herself stumbling through the docks in Sussex, against the warning Freyja had given her after she’d snottily suggested finding someone else’s ship to sail on. It wasn’t as if she particularly cared if she found Freyja’s ship before some unfavorable types found her first.

Queso era sierra or whatever.

table ; bunny

IF I WAS YOU I'D

R U N

And in every shadowed corner of the port did the unsavory folk lurk. They were watchers, all of them. Like vultures, waiting for their chance to circle and feed upon those they deemed weaker than them. Every once In a while, a poor, unfortunate damsel would come stumbling drunk into their midst. The shades would draw closer and leer until one of them seemed himself the rat to step forward and test the waters.

“Whas'sa pretty little thing like you doin' bouts on your own, hmm?" The one to approach was a broad-shouldered brute with disheveled fur the color of soot and striking blue eyes beneath his brow that held a spark of mischief. He moved himself close enough to press his chest into the drunken woman, focusing on trapping her against himself and a hard place. “Ya mus' be lookin' fer a good time if ya'd come all the way down 'ere..." His body language was becoming more aggressive as a growl rolled off his tongue.

“DESMOND!!" Came a booming, more feminine voice from up above over the bow of a ship. A flash of white descended in a leap until a hulking arctic titaness dominated the scene. The man was large, but the Captain of the Valkyrie looked as though she towered over him with the way he shrunk back. “Fuck off back to your own shipyard...unless you were lookin' to feed the fish in mine..."

Freyja bore her fangs and thrust herself forward, aiming to shove him away from Eleanor, a guttural snarl peeling her lips back further. She barely had to make contact with the male before he went scrambling backward and scuttling off with his tail between his legs. Freyja gave a snort and stood her ground until there was no hide or hair left of that mongrel. She then turned back to Eleanor, the beastly anger fading from her expression as her eyes softened with concern. “The hell are ya doin' here? You clearly don't listen to a thing I tell ya and-" She paused, realizing the state the heiress was in and she moved closer. “What's wrong? What's happened?"

@Eleanor

If I was you, I'd hide,
If I was you, I'd be afraid,
Afraid of what's inside...

code by claerie ~ art by Yahtzee

Whas'sa pretty little thing like you doin' bouts on your own, hmm? Unfocused eyes regarded the stranger that corralled her closer to the dock's craggy interface with a muddled expression lacking distress. The liquid courage dominating her system nullified her already abysmal self-preservation instincts and instead had Eleanor captivated by the three faces swimming in her vision and their piercing blues. She'd always been at the mercy of blue eyes. "And if I am?" She let her hands rove across the broad expanse of his chest, admiring the muscles she could feel flexing under them and oblivious to the mounting danger she was in. "Are you going to show me one?"

She wasn't given an opportunity to fully enjoy her new toy when another's voice thundered down from overhead, and then Freyja appeared, wedging herself between Eleanor and Cerberus. The male was cowed by her threats, quivering like a newborn babe without his mother's warmth, and took off without much argument to be had, as if there wasn't a prize to be won. As if she was not a desirable reward for his effort.

Before the captain's reprimand could soften to concern, Eleanor was bristling. "If you didn't talk so much, maybe I'd pay more attention." Hiding behind her petulance was her only safeguard to keep from getting lost in the comfort of Freyja's presence. The last thing she wanted was to feel the anguish she was trying to forget. "All he offered was a good time anyway," she grumbled, willfully ignoring the attentive assessment of Freyja's eyes.

table ; bunny

IF I WAS YOU I'D

R U N

[TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SA]
Had it been another time, another place...one where they could share in stolen moments and let their walls down, if only for each other, Freyja might have teased or taunted the damsel at her feet. The corners of Freyja's jowls turned downward further as she scowled at the dismissive comment. If anything, it bothered her...this claim that she talked to much for Eleanor to even care to heed her warnings. She had to remind herself that her friend, no matter how dear, was a Lady...accustomed to the luxury her wealth could buy her. Where the men would vy for her attention in the mere hopes that they would receive it...they were a far cry from such a reality in this space.

Freyja became even more disgruntled when the woman reeking of alcohol even suggested that she might've considered letting that flea-bitten bastard anywhere close to her. “The fuck, Eleanor! Are you so daft? A good time, huh? A good fucking time? Ha!" A laugh of disbelief bubbled up from her, clearly exasperated by the woman's ignorant stance on the matter. She then leaned in closer to her, lowering her voice into a hiss of a whisper. “The only good time to be had was his own that he would have stolen from you kickin' and screamin'? You understand?!"

There was a weariness around her eyes that she could not hide and she hadn't meant to come off as harshly as she might have. Yet, all the while she reprimanded the heiress for her own protection...she watched a mirror image of a younger girl that had met the fate she'd given her warnings about. It was far too late for that girl...which was more than enough reason to save any others that she possibly could. Starting with Eleanor and her blissful fuckin' ignorance. Freyja then released a long sigh, letting the tension go as best she could before moving to Eleanor's side. “Here, c'mon...let's head in and get ya cleaned up..." She provided assistance as much as Eleanor would allow, offering herself as something to lean on while they took a couple flights of stairs up to the edge of the pier where The Valkyrie sway stop the waves.

----------------------------------------------------

A few hours later...

There was a knock at the cabin door and Freyja lifted herself from the side of the bed to go and open it. “Brought ya suppah...two servins juss' like ya asked, Cap'n." Freyja moved aside and let a sizable male lumber his way in to place the meals down at the table in the sunroom area of her Captain's Suite. “Here, Filet..." The brutish woman pressed a sack of coin into his chest discreetly and raised her eyebrows at him. “Go and get ya somethin, nice, eh? Maybe a new cutting' board since yer other one looks splintered as fuck." There came a chuckle from each of them and she waved him out. As he passed her by, he gave his Captain a knowing look. It was an unspoken agreement between them both. The heavier the coin purse, the tighter sealed your lips. At least, that's the saying she saved for her most loyal crew over the years...she took care of 'em...and they'd take care of her just the same, she trusted.

Freyja closed and locked the door, then crossed the room to where the plates slopped with a mixture a of meat 'n potatoes rested. Eleanor would likely refuse to eat it...it was nothin' like those four course gourmet meals. That was fine. More for me. The Captain thought as she peered over at the woman she'd left resting in bed. In my bed... Her mind emphasized and she rolled her eyes at her own thoughts as she started eating. She stared out the window at the view of the endless dark of sea and sky against a bright glowing moon. Eventually she leaned back with a grunt and looked back over at the shape of Eleanor beneath the her sheets before calling, “Oy, Sea Maiden! Ya hungry?"

@Eleanor

If I was you, I'd hide,
If I was you, I'd be afraid,
Afraid of what's inside...

code by claerie ~ art by Yahtzee

Eleanor did not remember much of what transpired that afternoon. It was like a sheet had been draped across her mind, obscuring the recent trauma she'd endured, but it was heavy all the same. The closer she came to consciousness, the more leaden her limbs felt, tangled in this unseen force. It took so much mental effort to dredge through the invisible resistance that an ache bloomed within her skull, making every groan of the swaying vessel so insufferable that her ears pressed powerlessly to her head and her paws crossed atop them, trying to prevent the sounds from reaching her wounded psyche.

When that failed, she probed for anything else to which she could anchor herself. Voices, indistinguishable at first, like they talked above her while she floundered beneath the obsidian sea. But at least she could use them to hoist herself closer.

Painstakingly, Eleanor trudged through the darkness until the blended conversation separated into distinct voices: One that she did not recognize, and one that she could not ignore. A beacon piercing the dark, Freyja's voice welcomed her to shore... then became unbearably bright, more like screaming hazards than guiding light. Oy, Sea Maiden! Ya hungry?

The noblewoman roused gracelessly. She was actually the antithesis of grace in this moment, with her disheveled bedhead and scowling features. Not a morning person. It didn't help that she still felt disoriented from her restless (if the wildly disturbed sheets were any indication) sleep. Nor did it dawn on her yet exactly where she was or how she'd gotten here or even why, too consumed in glaring back at the ship's captain and the now cold slop she'd left on the bedside table to evaluate her surroundings. "I'm not. In fact, I'm–" sick to my stomach Eleanor thought as a wave of nausea did crash over her, aftereffects from the bender – and what it was intended, but failing, to suppress. All at once, everything she was trying to avoid gained on her and, like ferocious hunting dogs, ravaged her so violently that Eleanor collapsed in on herself with a sudden gasp, clutching Freyja's sheets until her paws trembled.

table ; bunny

IF I WAS YOU I'D

R U N

The Captain's meal was immediately set aside and abandoned at the first sign of distress. Oddly enough, she saw something present there in Eleanor's expression before possibly even she realized it and was already halfway to her feet when she crumpled. For her size the behemoth of a woman moved swiftly, snatching the bowl of food from the bedside table and flinging it across the table towards the one she'd left behind.

Freyja crossed the room to a kitchenette and a miniature bar, drew up a mug to fill it with fresh water before returning and placing it where the stew had been. Kicking a hind leg out, she toppled over a bucket that appeared to have been used as a seat prior, and slid it over to the side of the bed in case the heiress did become ill. What she was seeing, however, she knew for an undeniable fact, was a body's way of moving through a traumatic event over again.

“Hey, hey...hey, now..." She started softly, not wanting to invade her space if that was not what she wanted. “I brought ya some water instead. You're alright, Eleanor, you're safe.” She urged, bringing herself to where she could crouch next to the side of the bed, looking her friend's body over as if she were expecting to see some sort of injury. “I'm here however ya need me, just tell me what it is ya need and I'll take care of it.

@Eleanor

If I was you, I'd hide,
If I was you, I'd be afraid,
Afraid of what's inside...

code by claerie ~ art by Yahtzee

Hurricane force winds swept Eleanor far, far away before Freyja even touched the bed. Her insides felt like they were being ripped apart by the ceaseless onslaught. The pain that she had been attempting to drown surged back up with a vengeance. Fortunately. Freyja had the foresight to bring a bucket because the meager contents of Eleanor's stomach were violently deposited into it—though all that she'd been burying still remained.

She could feel it writhing under her skin.

The same that Freyja had cradled, caressed, and kissed. Her chameleon skin that Eleanor donned after her parents had perished so she could camouflage among the same nobility that shunned her suddenly felt swollen with all that it contained. And she wanted it off. She needed it to come undone. For the second time, her paws dug into her ears; but for the first time, they scoured the soft skin, trying to rend it apart through sheer force of will as her claws scraped painfully down her face, individual beads of blood following her free-flowing tears.

When Freyja's voice sought her again, offering assurances she could not possibly provide, Eleanor's retaliation was instant and instinctive. "No!" she snapped. "I'm not!" And then she broke.

Ragged, agonized sobs shook the chest of the last remaining Calyx. Her body convulsed with each wretched breath, as if punishing her lungs for craving air when her family members all ceased to need it. "Cecil is dead! M-my uncle– he was all I... all that I h-had– and he was mur- murdered—and I- I couldn't s-save him.. I c-couldn't do anything... He's gone and I'm next and I- and I yelled at you!" Her admission was rapidly devolving into irrationality as her fractured psyche sought for anything to ground itself with, ultimately latching onto the regret she'd felt the moment she'd snarled at Freyja. Eleanor turned and clutched the marauder's chest, desperate for a lifeline. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry, Freyja, I'm sorry. I'm sorry.." she apologized pitifully, muttering it over and over, endlessly sorry for all she felt she had done.

Though was it really Freyja who she was apologizing to?

table ; bunny

IF I WAS YOU I'D

R U N

The vomiting was to be expected, Freyja leaned in closer, but ultimately allowed it to happen as it would. The Valkyrie's gaze was locked onto Eleanor, her eyes keenly awaiting some sort of signal that she was permitted to assist further than she already had. When the noblewoman lifted her paws to the sides of her head, she hadn't quite braced herself for the sudden deep cuts and crimson that mixed with streaming tears. “No, no, no! Stop! Shit!" Eyes grew wide and she instinctively reacted, grabbing at the woman's wrists to pull them away. “What're ya-?!"

One look into those bloodshot lavender orbs answered her own foolish questions. She stared, more shocked to find herself looking into a mirror of sorts. She blinked rapidly to rid herself of the illusion, knowing full well that the last place her own traumas needed to resurface was here and now. Refocusing herself on Eleanor was far easier than she expected, but the assurances she attempted to offer were met with a snarling, fury of a female she hadn't yet been a acquainted with.

Shortly after, her beloved sea maiden folded in on herself, relenting to harsh sobbing. It was then that Freyja realized that this truly was her...underneath all of the perfume, powder, and splendor...this was her Eleanor. Amid onslaught of merciless tears, Freyja did her best to piece together the fragmented words to try to understand what exactly had affected her so.

Her Uncle Cecil...she had mentioned him before. He was dead. Recalling the story she'd told of her other family members she cared about passing, she understood how difficult might be for Eleanor, but one word made her tense. “Murdered?" The Nordic woman repeated, her expression darkening with concern. The thick hair along the back of her neck and spine standing on end when she realized how fearful her dear friend was that she took would suffer the same fate. How quickly Eleanor flipped the subject, seeming utterly horrified that she had snapped at Freyja.

A look of bewilderment passed over her face and she had no time to ask any further questions before the smaller body of the golden heiress crashed into hers, practically clinging to her. Questions could wait. There was no hesitation in the way Freyja drew her in, intent on becoming sanctuary for Eleanor where she thought there was none. “I've gotch'ya..." She drew herself up further onto the bed, cradling her frame shaking with sobs as she apologized to her...or perhaps to a ghost. “You'll have'ta do more than yellin' to drive me off, love..." She offered the only reassurance she knew that she could in that moment at least until this storm passed and in the meantime, her mind would formulate a plan on how to track down a killer and keep Eleanor safe all at once.

@Eleanor

If I was you, I'd hide,
If I was you, I'd be afraid,
Afraid of what's inside...

code by claerie ~ art by Yahtzee

The grief she felt clawing at her from the inside finally found an escape through tearful sobs. It had festered and rotted beneath the anger she'd piled on top of it, refusing to let that weakness be gleaned by her uncle's killer. When Mutt had looked upon her, all she'd wanted him to see was cold, resolute indifference. It had been later that Eleanor truly felt the knot her insides were twisted into by his treachery. Her attempts to drown her sorrows only served to make it more difficult to untie, and it had chafed uncomfortably despite her muddled senses.

Now she could not help but suffer the wrath of it in full force. She'd slept off most of her drunkenness, then retched up the rest, allowing her grief to be exhumed. It ravaged her without a care. Freyja may have stopped Eleanor from tearing herself apart, but she still bore scars, although internal, that would never heal.

At least she eventually did grow too exhausted and numb to notice that they were aching painfully. Eleanor at last slumped into Freyja's arms and quieted, dazedly listening to the comforts she was offering. She was too defeated to voice her appreciation, but her cheek did nuzzle ever the more firmly against her companion, speaking volumes without words. There was a lengthy silence before Eleanor's voice, hoarse and scathing the raw expanse of her throat, appeared again, uttering a devastating realization: "Freyja... I'm the last Calyx. It's just me now." Her bloodshot eyes sought solace behind her eyelids, trying to conjure this entire experience as nothing more than an awful nightmare. How long did she have to keep them shut before that became the truth?

table ; bunny

IF I WAS YOU I'D

R U N

The Captain's mind still reeled with the prospect of plans and back-up plans, but she let silence befall the pair as she held Eleanor close to her chest, to her heart. She rested her chin atop her crown, every now and then lifting it to press gentle kisses to her temple. While holding her tightly, one of her paws drifted, coursing over golden hair in slow strokes to try to alleviate distress where she could. If her own thoughts were going a million miles an hour, she could only imagine what sort of spiral internally plagued Eleanor.

Alabaster ears flicked to attention to better catch what the noblewoman was trying to say with hoarse vocals. “Well..." She took a breath to collect her thoughts, not knowing if anything she could say would even slightly mend the wound. “I'm surely no Calyx, but...you're not alone, Eleanor, not so long as I live 'n breathe." She lifted her paw, mimicking a gesture that the heiress had once done to her, stroking her cheek softly and wiping away any remnants of tears. “And ya know what that means? Means ya also got an entire crew of cutthroats at your disposal if I so give the order. Or if ya want to get the hell outta here, I can make that happen too." Freyja offered the smallest semblance of a smile. “They've fucked with the wrong woman, I can tell ya that..."

@Eleanor

If I was you, I'd hide,
If I was you, I'd be afraid,
Afraid of what's inside...

code by claerie ~ art by Yahtzee