9. Elspeth
Chapter nine
Elspeth
IN WHICH THE COMPULSORY BATH SCENE GOES AWRY IN THE FACE OF TRAUMA
T he small bathing area was hidden by a partition and when Elspeth ducked behind it, she found herself perplexed. There was, of course, a large tub for her to bathe in, but there were no buckets filled with hot water, or sign of how she might obtain one. Instead, there were knobs on the walls and two things that looked like metal pipes.
She must have made a noise of confusion, because Aegir called out to her. "Is everything all right?"
"I think so, it’s only that I don’t know how to use this type of bath."
"Oh, well, that’s understandable. I can come in and help.” There was a pause. “If you’re decent, of course,” he amended.
As he spoke, she could feel the tension rising in her, her shoulders knitting together, and her stomach clenching, until he asked if she was dressed. She didn’t like to think about her time in captivity, but she couldn’t deny that it affected her. Whatever positive emotions she felt for Aegir were normally tempered by feelings of frantic, fluttering anxiety that flooded her chest. That simple courtesy, an indication of his respect and regard, settled it. Her anxiety still flooded in the background, of course, but the choice was what she'd needed to ease the panic.
"Yes, please." The words came out clipped, so perhaps she was still nervous, though in an entirely different way.
Aegir popped around the corner, giving her a reassuring smile before placing his hands on the knobs on the wall. The quiet buzzing inside her rose to a cacophony of beating wings, excited and flustered, jangling about inside her. All over her body, the gooseflesh stood on end, every inch of her skin became aware of his proximity.
"This one will dispense hot water, and this one cold. So, you’ll need to turn them both on or off to get the right mix. If you twist them the other way, they’ll turn off. Sometimes it can take the hot water a minute to get here, especially since we’ve retired early in the evening. When others likely haven’t started bathing yet." 1
Now that they were alone, Aegir had allowed the black and white patterning of his orca coloring to bleed into his skin, returning to the form he’d had on the ship. He waved his hand at a small shelf on the wall. "There is soap here. Do you—" Aegir coughed and—was that a blush? It was hard to tell on his orca-colored skin.
He turned his head away for a moment before collecting himself. "D—do you want a new shift for sleep? Or will you wear the one you have on?"
"I’ll wear this one. I’ve only had it on for a few hours, after all. But thank you for thinking of it."
When the tub was full, and Aegir had disappeared back behind the temporary wall, Elspeth stripped off her clothing and hung it over the partition, careful to ensure her pelt was at the bottom of the pile. With as often as she swam in the ocean, a warm bath was actually a luxury. She lowered herself into the water, hissing as she did so. She hadn't realized how much her muscles needed the release, but the decadent heat teased out pains she'd forgotten about. She snapped her mouth shut halfway through a moan of pleasure. Sure, it felt divine, but moaning felt obscene, all things considered.
Through the partition, she could hear the scrape of Aegir's shoes against the floor, the rumple of his clothing as he removed his coat, the open and close of the door as he accepted the food, and him settling down to eat. Several times, she opened her mouth to say something and decided against it. Speaking while in the bath felt unbelievably awkward, but so did staying silent and ignoring the fact that he was sharing the space with her. Instead of either, she settled on rushing through her ablutions as quickly as possible. Her hands flew over her body and hair with the soap, cleansing away the dirt of the road, and the salt of the sea.
It was odd then, when she stood up and toweled herself off, to feel the texture of her skin without it. At home, even when they'd bathed, they'd always done a salt water rinse. Without it, her skin felt dry and itchy. After patting herself dry, she donned her shift and scurried out, carrying her mass of clothing.
"All done!" she squeaked, barely able to meet Aegir's eyes. Perhaps it would have been easier if his gaze had felt less intense. But no, she could feel Aegir's eyes devour her as she folded her clothing and placed it on a chair. Every inch of her skin felt like it was on fire, and the anxious buzzing began again. Biting her lips, she turned on her heel to face him. She had no reason to be afraid of him, he'd given her none, and truly, he had every reason to protect her, didn't he?
"Well, I suppose I'll be about my business then," he said, hopping up and flashing her his winning smile.
Elspeth smiled back awkwardly, fleeing to the bed, where she could at least have another layer of protection from him.
Tears stung at the corner of her eyes when she noticed that he'd laid out her art supplies on the bed in careful arrangement. Scrambling onto the large bed, she wrapped herself in her pelt and pulled over the plate of finger food he’d left out for her, her sketch book, and a pencil. She'd never had a pencil for drawing before, but it seemed much tidier for use in bed than the charcoal or pastels.
With long, languid motions, she allowed her mind to drift and spill onto the page. She almost never planned out what she'd draw but she wasn't surprised when Aegir's form started taking shape on the page between bites. He was beautifully made and she'd be a fool not to have noticed and appreciated it. With her tongue tucked between her teeth, she focused in, ensuring she captured his strong, broad shoulders. Heat creeping into her face, she shaded in the vee where his stomach transitioned to his pelvis.
As if to provide the accompaniment to her drawing, Aegir moaned on the other side of the partition. Her hand skidded to a stop as the sound shot through her, strumming her core and igniting within her. It seemed he was also enjoying the heat of the bath.
She sketched frantically, hand flying across the page, hoping her thoughts would drown out the delicious sounds of him in the bath. 2 Mere minutes after he'd gone behind the partition, a sucking sound startled her from her drawing.
"What is that?" Elspeth asked.
"Oh, it's the tub draining, not to worry." Aegir stepped from behind the partition, toweling his hair dry. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and perhaps this was worse than the sounds of him bathing. His skin was the mottled black and white of his orca, with corresponding streaks of white at his temples and the elongated ears she now associated with this form, this version of him. He wore a pair of loose gray trousers, tied hastily at his waist. While he was still muscled, Elspeth noticed he seemed softer. His muscles were less pronounced now, with a softly rounded tummy instead of chiseled abs. While his muscles had been alluring, and he'd always been gorgeous, this Aegir was delectable. Instead of pristine like a statue, unobtainable and aloof, this Aegir was comfortable in his beauty, inviting.
The trousers he wore were still shockingly indecent, bulging out in the front obscenely. Otherwise, she'd have been inviting him to curl up with her before she'd even have realized.
"Comfy?" he asked, settling into an arm chair she now noticed he'd arranged with a foot stool and blanket. He pulled the blanket over top of himself and smiled across to her.
"I am, thank you," she hedged. Was he trying to make her feel bad about barring him from the bed? But no, he smiled and nodded his head. Closing his eyes and resting against the plush chair back, he sighed contentedly.
"I see you got some drawing done, how are the supplies? I don't know if I even bought anything that was usable."
"They're very nice. Thank you."
"Good." He nodded. "So, I suppose I should give you some sort of idea of what to expect. In Berggeheimnis, we'll get in contact with some of my friends from back home. They should have more updated information on where the company keeping your brother is. We can send word back to my superiors about our intent, and see if anyone has any ideas as to what to do about this bond situation."
Elspeth blinked, it was certainly a lot to take in. "I take it these friends are more than friends—as in, you work together—not like, Trina more than friends..." The heat of a blush crept up her face.
Aegir chuckled. "Yes, they are from Sanctuary, like me, and we are working toward the same goals."
"And those are..."
"The downfall of the Empire."
He said it so casually, as if such a thing was even fathomable, let alone possible. 3 She raised an eyebrow in question and he continued.
"So, where we are going is the center of that effort. It's a multicultural hub, which is why I’m hoping that someone might have some information that could help us. Last I checked, we didn't have any selkies in the alliance, but there may be others that have similar bonds. Now that many of the cultures are interacting, they are finding they often share similarities."
"Alright, well, all of that sounds like things I can support. I—Aegir, I should warn you, I don't fully understand the bond and what it does." She looked away, the feeling of her captor's hands on her pelt tormenting her and the echo of his words ringing in her ears .
"We'll figure it out, I'm sure of it." He cracked an eye. "Is there anything I should avoid? Anything that would make you uncomfortable?"
Elspeth bit her lip, several ideas immediately flashing into her head, though the thought of voicing them made her want to sick up.
After a few moments of silence, Aegir nodded his head. "That's fine, I understand. Well, I’m still worried about the ‘order’ situation. I can't promise I'll never bark out an order expecting to be obeyed, especially on the ship—I am a captain, after all. But, I need you to know that I meant what I said. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to do."
Elspeth pursed her lips. “I’ll try.” He might have tried to be careful with his words, but almost nothing was ironclad. “Shall we make sure it’s still working?”
"Perhaps it will help us both feel better." Aegir leaned forward to rest an arm on his knee. "Then I order you to stand on the bed and do a silly dance... Anything?" 4
"Not a bit," she whispered. Elspeth expected to feel the direction settle into her. Instead, she sat, cross legged on the bed and couldn't feel a single difference. How would she know if it worked if there was no indication? Could it really be that simple? Had he really found a lasting way around what she'd assumed would be the worst situation of her life? The dread that had gripped her chest since she'd learned of the situation loosened. Dumping her art supplies on the bed, she bolted to stand on the floor.
"Aegir, I think it’s still working!”
He crossed to her, any semblance of his prior character gone from his demeanor. Aegir wrapped his arms around her waist and spun her in a circle. She'd been so worried that she'd never be free again. That she'd always be subject to Aegir's whims if he ever found out about the bond. Instead, he'd freed her. At least from some of the more dangerous aspects. Her whole body tingled with joy, and something far more tempting. Aegir's body pressed against hers, and the easy way he held her and tilted his head onto her own felt so perfect, for a moment at least.
He spun her around, repositioning his hands on her to better support her weight and in doing so, he grasped onto her pelt. She’d imagined this, a gorgeous person spinning her around, their eyes alight with joy. "Oh my beautiful si—Elspeth, are you well?"
That word —beautiful—made her whole body go rigid. She didn't have much memory of her captivity, she'd forgotten as much of it as she could. But that word shook what little foundation she'd begun to rebuild. Ice pumped through her veins, but not the serenity of an ice flow. No, it was the sluggish panic of being trapped, the ice a smooth sheet above her as she ran out of air, not a hole to breathe anywhere in sight. Her body drifted under the water, floating.
The world spun around her, her very reality unmoored. Her breathing quickened as memories whipped through her, dragging her backward in time and twisting her current experience.
The spinning became the rocking of a ship.
The waves slapping against the hull, wild and free.
She tried to flee to a place in her mind where he couldn’t reach her, with his fingernails so caked in dirt and breath that stank of rum.
In her mind, she was riding those waves, not the ship.
In her mind, there were no fingers on her pelt, only the cool slip of the water as she dove beneath its foamy surface.
In her heart, her chest raced, and she pushed against the body that held her, that caged her. She had to get away she had to—
Abruptly, they stopped spinning and she was placed gently on the floor, though she still swayed with the ship. Aegir spoke, but his voice didn’t belong. Not on the Navigator’s ship. But didn’t he? Wasn’t he her captor now?
Elspeth shook her head, trying to clear the feelings and remember where she was. Her eyes caught on the hearth, on the glowing fire within.
There was no hearth on the Navigator’s ship. She was here, now, at the inn. Aegir tried to get her attention again, but she brushed his hands away. Instead, she hung onto the fire’s warm glow, allowing her eyes to unfocus and the firelight to blur until it was all she saw. Its light was mesmerizing and so, so warm. It held her, allowed her to sink inside, shielded from the whips of memory. It beckoned her in, seducing her with its warmth and the assurance of the present.
She whined when she was lifted and carried away from the light, confused. The rest of the world assailed her, beckoning her back so she could be whipped once more. Elspeth drew in a shaky breath and screamed when the soft sheets brushed against her back. She scrabbled for her pelt as the hands left her, clasping it around her like a shield. Those hands would touch it first, and though that was horrid, perhaps they would leave her alone. Perhaps she’d be covered enough …
But no hands slid along her fur. No weight bent the mattress. And still, the fire flickered. Its crackles were a gently prodding reminder, a tickle telling her she was not, in fact, on that ship. She was not, in fact, truly captive. Tinkling of porcelain joined the percussion of the fire as a steaming cup of tea was set next to her on the side table. Footsteps retreated, a brief interlude, and then the true melody began. At first, it wandered, a humming song that softly meandered through the room.
Flicking her eyes to the teacup, she snuck a shaky hand out of her pelt and claimed it. She clutched the cup, its heat permeating and reinforcing the fire’s message. In the background, the humming continued, settling into a melody that felt like a memory.
Instead of on a ship, it called to chilly days huddled by the fire, of her father’s exuberant voice, her brother’s clumsy strumming, and her mother’s steady hand as she tapped out the rhythm on her knee. The words were missing, but perhaps the melody, the memory, was enough. The humming continued, and eventually, she blinked, following it to the present.
Aegir sat in the chair near her, ostensibly reading a book, though she noted that he did not turn the pages. Instead, he hummed, staring it down, as if the book might give him the answer to some elusive question. She lifted the teacup, watching him.
He was a handsome man, one she’d normally think far too fine for her. Even at rest, his nightclothes spoke of wealth and sophistication, neither of which she’d ever had any hope of for herself. With his attention off of her, weight lifted from Elspeth’s chest. Things had been going relatively well. At least, until he touched her and called her beautiful.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“If anything I ever do offends you, I always want you to speak up.” He shifted his weight in the chair, perhaps it was uncomfortable.
“It wasn’t offensive… or at least it shouldn’t have been,” she said “I think… that word. It doesn’t sit right after… everything.”
“I won’t use it then.”
“That’s it?” She asked.
“That’s it. We all have our shit, Elspeth. If my exploits have taught me anything, it’s that part of playing with someone is respecting that you aren’t the first to affect them. There’s always history that you can’t control. The best thing to do is accept and move on. I can’t control what others did to you and it’s silly to assume it has anything to do with me. Is it something you want to talk about?”
Did she? Bile rose in her throat. “Not particularly.”
“Very well, we won’t.”
“It’s a pretty common word… at least in situations like this.” Or at least she hoped it might? It was everything she’d dreamed of in the early days of a relationship.
Instead, it made her feel like she might vomit.
“And the touching…” she continued, “I think it might have all just been too much. I’m sorry.”
Aegir nodded, pursing his lips together. “Elspeth, I will never be upset with you for having feelings.”
Tears welled in her eyes. How was everything so wrong? So twisted? She wasn’t this weak, pathetic thing. She was the backbone of her family. She was the one that held things together when they needed it. And gods-dammit, she needed to pull it together if she had any hope of getting her brother back.
Her poor brother. He was barely a year younger, a man grown, but she’d rarely thought of him that way. He’d towered over her since she was thirteen, so he’d been her “bigger little brother” for some time. Right now, he needed her to be strong, needed her to hold it together so she could find him. Once he was free, he’d need her to help him heal. Because the gods only knew what he’d need to heal from.
Here she was, blubbering like a child after the gentle touch and kind words of the most handsome man she’d ever seen, while he was enduring sure horrors. “Oh, Feann…”
Aegir tilted his head in confusion.
“Sorry,” she said with a wry chuckle at her repeated apologies. “I was just thinking…”
“About your brother…” he said, eyes wide with recognition. He blew out a breath, set his forearms on his knees and hung his head.
This was where he would tell her it was too much trouble, right? That there was no telling where he was. Where he’d try to separate her from her friends and family so she’d trust him? But no, that wasn’t fair. Aegir had done nothing to earn such suspicion.
“Is he bonded? The letter seemed to imply that.”
“Yes,” she whispered, that horrible day flashing through her mind. The red of the elf’s blood as it dripped down his arm, held aloft as if triumphant.
“And, I’m assuming that his bonded is not likely to cooperate with any sort of unraveling we discover?” He opened and closed his fists where they hung between his legs .
Elspeth shook her head, dread pooling in her stomach. “No, he needs to die.” Her eyes closed. What would Aegir think of her? Condemning a man to death, an evil one, sure, but still a person, to death so easily. Worse, what did she think of herself? She should abhor this part of her that hungered to see him dead at her feet, to smile at his last gasps of air. These feelings were so foreign she could hardly recognize them, she was a healer after all.
“Now that I can work with!” Aegir’s exclamation jolted her in her seat. He clapped his hands and jumped to his feet. “Do you want to do the killing or shall I? Or do you think your brother would?”
Aegir paced back and forth across the room, his eyes alight and excited. She followed him, the sudden burst of noise and energy made her head spin, but she couldn’t tear her eyes away. Every part of his body was held at the ready, like he was ready to burst.
“I—I don’t know if he would… he doesn’t really know how to fight at all… nor do I for that matter.”
Aegir waved a hand dismissively. “Well, I can’t really help with that, but you, well, we’ve got time. You don’t need to know much, really, because you look so damn harmless. I’d prefer to kill him myself, frankly, but this is your rescue, so we’ll do as you want.”
Elspeth pursed her lips. “If you think it’s possible, I’d like to try.” If she didn’t try, what was the point of being there? She knew that because of his position, Aegir would be better suited, but if he seemed to think that she could do it herself, that felt more meaningful.
“It’s a plan. I’ll think through what we might be able to accomplish, but in the meantime, I should probably show you a few things, do you know much combat?”
“Aegir, I know exactly zero combat.”
“Right then…” Aegir slicked his hair off his forehead. “Close quarters—though I’ll hate for you to be in that much danger—is our best option, not much need to aim if you are in their face.”
He tapped his chin, gesturing in the air and mumbling to himself. It was like an entirely new person inhabited him now, or rather a version of Aegir she’d not seen in days. This was the Aegir she’d met on the boat, at least for some of the time. How many Aegirs had she seen at this point? The more she wondered, the more she realized that his behavior shifted slightly with each face and form he wore. Even when he had been speaking to only her, when he’d worn an elf’s face, he’d kept his speech affectation. Perhaps it was so that he wasn’t caught unawares, but his commitment to each character was… startling. Moments ago, she could have sworn that his shoulders had been more prominent, but in the space it took him to stand up, they’d shrunk and squared.
“A dagger will be best. We’ll need to get you a holster. Two, rather. Thigh and bosom should do it. For tomorrow, we’ll fashion one of mine until we can get you your own.”
He barely looked at her, and dread thickened in her stomach, sticky and putrid. Moments ago, Aegir had been attentive and kind, and now she wondered if he’d even notice if she was in the room. He had so many masks, was who he was with her just another?
The sun had set completely during their conversation, so Aegir lit a candle and scooted the chair next to the bed. On his way, he picked up a blanket and sat, tucking it around himself.
"Is it alright if I prop my feet?" he asked, waving a foot from under the blanket toward the corner of the bed.
Elspeth blinked. When she'd seen the single bed, she'd assumed that they would be sleeping together, and on some level, she supposed, they were. "Yes, that’s fine. Are you sure you don’t want to sleep in the bed? "
"Thanks, I'd prefer to be able to move quickly in case of an emergency anyhow."
Elspeth pulled back the covers and tucked her feet and legs under the blankets. On the opposite side of the bed, Aegir settled his feet atop the blankets, gently placing his own over his legs.
"We've a long day tomorrow," he said. "We should get some sleep."
"Yes, quite."
Aegir blew out the candle, leaving the room lit only by the shine of the moon.
"Aegir?" Elspeth asked in the darkness. "What is it like—where you’re from?" Everything had been so new, all day, and Elspeth was overwhelmed by the fullness of what the world could encompass.
"It's... a complicated place." He shifted so his face was toward hers. In the moon's light, she could just make out the patterns of white and black on his face. "There are all sorts of people that live there, though the majority are human, like me."
It stood to reason that Aegir had to come from somewhere, and therefore there must be a place inhabited by other humans, but she still had trouble fathoming what that would look like. Aegir was nothing like she'd heard of humans. He was not locked in only one, boring form without any magic to speak of, instead, he had arguably more magic than she.
"It's not actually too far from Winter Harbor. So, it's quite cold, year round, though the Lady has—"
"The Lady," she interrupted. "You've mentioned her, a few times. Who is she?"
He blinked a few times. "A goddess. She created the entire world, they say. In our case, she created a magic bubble that covers the town that creates a more temperate climate. Not so far as to be summer all the time, but we have more plants than we should, and there are few days where one shouldn't venture outside at all. We don't have roads, like many cities do, instead we have canals that connect the rows of houses or buildings. There are foot paths and bridges, of course, but for faster travel, folks take a boat."
"I'd bet you like that," she whispered.
"Yes, it's one of the reasons that I'm a captain now. Well, that, and I can't stay away from the ocean for very long."
"You can't?"
"No, it really messes with my head. Most people from home, you see, only shift into two forms, their human form and their animal form. The more practiced shifters can stop halfway, but there isn't much reason for folks to learn beyond that. Having a shifted form is a birthright, and symbol of connection with the Lady, but for many it's little more than an outfit they can don when needed.
"For me, it's a lifeline. As soon as we started talking about what shifted forms we would like in school, I knew that I wanted to be an aquatic form. I'd always loved swimming and loved how the fullness of water drowns out all of the sound, leaving you with only the deep, abiding, distant crash of waves and profound silence. It pushes in on your ears, imposing itself upon you and isolating your thoughts and emotions, bringing them into clear focus. I need that. I need time to connect with the sea and myself like that."
"So if you were mated, you wouldn't make your mate leave the ocean?"
"I'd like to see my mate try to make me leave the ocean!" He smiled, dampening the challenge of it. "No, I couldn't ever leave it, I can't fathom ever asking anyone to do the same. Is that... concern that you have?"
"It's a story we are told, growing up." Elspeth said, recalling the countless times she'd be warned about going ashore on the mainland. "That we shouldn't allow ourselves to be taken in by someone who wasn't a selkie, because they'd refuse to let us go to the sea. That they'd take our pelts and trap us away from the ocean."
Elspeth pulled her pelt from her shoulders and tucked it under the covers with her, needing to feel its soft fur and connect to that part of herself.
“Aegir,” she called into the darkness once her pelt had calmed her.
“Yes?”
“I’m not from Winter Harbor.”
“Oh?”
“I’m from an island offshore, called Hillskerry. You’ve trusted me with a lot, so I figure I should return the favor, especially if I want you to take us home, after.”
“Yes, especially then.”
Did his voice sound sad? Or was it simply the edge of sleep tugging at him the way it beckoned her? Its insistent call refused to let her dwell on it, however, and she was pulled under the waves of sleep in seconds.
1. This type of tap was not uncommon in the Empire in general, only on Hillskerry, and Elspeth’s naivety should not be assumed to be the norm.
2. Indeed, you will find that Elspeth’s skill in sketching has served us well, as she provided the map included in this manuscript.
3. This thought process is truly the largest barrier we have faced. For peoples that have lived with the Empire for thousands of years, the concept of freedom is nigh unfathomable.
4. Astute readers might remember that they have already tested the bond and Elspeth’s ability to ignore orders. This repetition is not laziness on the author’s part, but an example of Aegir’s commitment to Elspeth’s autonomy.