Trophy Hunting

[oceansdaughter]

The sea was calm. Gentle waves brushed against the rust stained sides of the trawler, scarcely rocking the old fishing vessel as it drifted, its engines silent. The boat's scant crew hurried about their jobs, some setting the nets while others kept their eyes trained on the horizon. The most skilled among them bent to their grisly task, stone faced and blank eyed as they carried out their work with sure hands and sharp blades. Each precise cut elicited a tortured cry from their catch, piercing and haunting but growing softer as shock began to take its toll.

"Shouldn't we at least-?"

"Skin's no good if we did."

Any further protests were silenced at the gruff reply from the captain. The harvesters continued their work, the lookouts kept their eyes peeled for trouble, and the others triple checked the weights on the netting. Not a man among them dared to speak again. With fish stock falling more and more each year as populations vanished they had to take what work they could get - even if that meant selling their soul to keep the lights on and a roof over their head. Finally, the harvesters set down their blades and carefully folded their bloody prize, stepping back as their skinned prey was rolled into the netting. Three of the strongest crew members hoisted the bundle up and over the railing, dropping it over the side and watching to see that it sank. Then, the engines sputtered to life, the propellers turned, and the ship turned toward home and the payday that waited the fishermen there.

The sounds of the ship were long gone by the time their discarded burden came to rest on a barren portion of the sea floor. Bound and tangled in the heavy netting the young woman could only stare up at the dim hint of sunlight glittering far above her. Choked by shock she tried to scream, every inch of her body burning in an unimaginable agony, but no sound louder than a gurgling moan escaped her throat. Drawn in by the scent of blood a shark appeared from the surrounding gloom only to dart away as if physically struck, scared off by an instinctual awareness that something was terribly wrong. There was no easy meal to be found in that wrapping of rope and metal, just an abhorrent tragedy that never should have been. The surface world had stolen from the sea again, and this time it had taken from the most innocent among them.

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[tylosaur]

Sensing the sea was disturbed by something, Orm waved a hand at his guards to stay back, he turned his Tylo towards the area, his eyes, and ears open for anything. He paused at the barren area, stripped of any sort of life by those surface dwellers, and paused, sweeping the floor with a sharp glance. He paused when he saw the net, weighted even.

He dismounted, patting the Tylo's snout to make him stay, and swam down to the netting. He recoiled a bit once he realized there was someone alive in that pile of rope and metal. But something whispered in his head to see what the surface dwellers had done as more of a mark against them.

Orm kneeled and pulled out a small dagger, slicing the ropes and revealing a woman. Not human, but a selkie. He hadn't seen one in years, and there were only stories of them that he could recall. And she looked as if she had been skinned.

He beckoned to the hovering guard and ordered him to bring something to wrap her in for modesty's sake and then hoisted her and himself up on his Tylo's back. She had been skinned and tossed in the ocean to slowly die tangled in ropes and metal.

Orm was gentle with her, giving questioning looks only the barest of attention. She had been directly hurt by the humans on the surface, and she was a rare selkie. She was his. Perhaps she would be useful, even without her skin.

Calling a discreet healer as they arrived back in the city, Orm carried her to some chambers near his in the palace. Once she woke, he would figure out her duties.

[newfaces]

Galen was waiting when the King returned. The summons he had received had been vague and sparse on details, but he was use to such messages. His time in the military had taught him that Orm was cautious about what was said over easily hacked communications. Galen had to assume that the lack of information in the call meant the King was bringing him something he did not wish to speak openly about. The secrecy had left the healer's hands a bit tied in terms of prepping for a possible emergency, but he could mobilize his own team of assistants to gather more specific supplies once he saw what he would be dealing with.

His expression did not change save for a subtle lifting of one brow when Orm arrived at the palace, his arms burdened with an unconscious woman. Absently inclining his head in a respectful bow Galen fell into step behind the King. Orm did not head for the medical wing as he had expected but turned towards his own chambers, and Galen felt his lips curl into a frown. Whoever the woman in his arms was the King clearly did not want her treated where others could see.

'I can already hear the rumors,' Galen thought to himself, following Orm into a room several doors down from the royal suites. He waited for him to set the woman down on the bed before approaching, looking her over with a critical gaze, all thoughts of potential scandals set aside. Gentle fingers eased open the fabric she was wrapped in, giving him his first glimpse at the raw, angry condition of her skin.

"What have you brought me, my liege?" he asked without glancing away from the patient.

[tylosaur]

"Skinned selkie dumped in weighted nets." Orm knew Galen wouldn't spread the tale, And he needs to know the full details. His men wouldn't talk, either. They knew better.

"In one of the dead zones, too." Orm leans up against the wall, arms crossed as he watches Galen's initial exam. "Luck had it we were out on patrol then."

[newfaces]

A frown creased his brow as Galen turned his gaze to Orm. The King had no reason to lie about the woman's race but it was rare to find a Selkie so close to the city. Looking at his patient he silently conceded that if her pelt had been so forcibly taken the person or persons responsible likely would have wanted privacy for the barbaric act. What was more private than a dead zone?

"Can't say that I have ever treated a Selkie for a bruise, much less something of this magnitude," he murmured. Sparing a moment to think about it Galen wasn't sure that he had even crossed paths with one before. The healer did not doubt for a second that there weren't members of the seal folk living in the city, but he had never met one. "I confess that I am at a bit of a loss of how to proceed. I will need to talk with some of my colleagues and see if any of them have encountered one before."

His fingers resumed carefully pulling the fabric away as he spoke. It was essential for him to complete the initial exam. A split second of distracted thought caused him to brush the back of his knuckles against the oversensitive flesh on her side and the woman jolted awake. Her hands closed convulsively at the fabric - cape? - surrounding her as she screamed, a horrific and shrill cry that abruptly faded into soft, pathetic whimpers. She locked eyes with him, panic and fear shining bright before she sank back into oblivion, unconscious once again. Galen stared, waiting for further outbursts, then breathing out a long sigh and glancing towards Orm.

"...she's in trouble," he said in a tone of voice that expressed just how unnecessary he knew the comment to be.

[tylosaur]

Orm nodded at Galen's murmurs, used to his methods. He politely turned his back when Galen started to unwrap her, too many years of manners drilled into his head to not watch as a woman is bared unless she asked him to.

But Orm turns sharply when she cries out, a dark look settling on Galen for making her cry, but the urge to maim eased when she settled back into unconsciousness.

"I would imagine so. Whatever resources you need for treating her, you have them. Do not worry about returning the cape. Recycle it as you see fit. Keep me updated on her condition, Galen." Orm says, moving towards the door before he did something rash like injuring the doctor for doing his job.

[newfaces]

Galen bowed his head in respectful acknowledgement of his King's orders. He waited until Orm had taken his leave before attempting any further examinations, hoping that by doing so he might avoid the royal's ire. It had been odd seeing him react so strongly to the woman's cries, but Galen tried not to dwell on it as he mulled over possible treatments. Though he had served the King for several years he was by no means the man's confidant, and he did not pretend otherwise. Beckoning to the assistant lingering in the doorway he shook his head and got to work. It was not his job to question the importance the woman had to Orm: he was only there to heal her.

It took several days to get the Selkie back on her feet - if one could call it that. Her injuries had been minimal. Lacerations where knives had sliced too deep, scrapes and bruises from the nets. All of them easily treated with simple antibiotics and a few bandages. But there was damage caused by the taking of her pelt that could not be fixed by medical means, and the evidence of it was heartbreaking to behold. Galen was still haunted by the memory of her devastated sobs when they had finally managed to convince her that the cape she had been wrapped in was not her sealskin. She had been nearly silent since then, offering little more than distant murmurs and obedience when he or the nurses tended to her.

A week and a half passed in the blink of an eye. All too soon Galen found that he had run out of reasons to keep her confined to the small chambers she had been hidden in. She would need time to heal from the mental trauma, time that he did not have to spare. There were other duties, other patients, that needed his attention. And, as Orm's semi-frequent visits had reminded him, at the end of the day she was not his to shelter indefinitely.

He had to repeat that to himself as he watched her from the corner of his eye while they waited for the King to arrive. She still looked so pathetic and small. Whatever Orm had planned for her, Galen only hoped it would be simple and easy.

[tylosaur]

Orm wasn't quite sure why he had reacted to her cries, only that he had. Perhaps it was just because she wasn't able to defend herself.

He presented himself at Galen's office on the appointed day, wondering how much having her pelt stolen had changed her. And he didn't even know her name.

Orm knew about her heartbreak at giving up the cape and had an idea to run past Galen first.

"Galen. Would something a little more pelt-like help her?" He asks, hands tucked behind his back.

[newfaces]

Galen was alone at his desk by the time Orm arrived. His patient had drifted away to one corner of the room where she now sat, watching a steady stream of bubbles swirl inside a decorative sculpture. A slight sigh escaped the healer's lips as he finished updating her chart with the last useful bits of information. He truly had not expected her to be up to the task of staying still beside his desk while they waited, but part of him had hoped she might surprise him. Maybe he should move the sculpture to his desk but - no, they had run out of time. He stood when the door opened and bowed as Orm entered, glancing at the selkie as he did so. For her part she didn't even seem to notice that someone had joined them, too engrossed in watching the bubbles dance to pay attention to anything else.

"With all respect, I don't think that would be a wise idea, my King. I fear that it would only lead to a repeat of the cape incident at this point," he said in response to Orm's question. "As I understand it there are no real substitutions for a selkie's pelt. It is not a limb that can be replaced with a well crafted prosthetic or an organ that can be transplanted. If we try to replace her sealskin with something artificial it may do more harm than good."

[tylosaur]

Orm watches the selkie mesmerized by bubbles and off in her own world. So much had been taken from her with the removal of her pelt.

He glances back at Galen and nods at his words, before focusing on the selkie.

"I remember the cape incident. It made a few of the court laugh. Younger ones who don't quite know how to behave yet. They've been spoken to. Is she always like this? Distractible? Has she even managed to tell us her name?"

[newfaces]

"Not always. She has periods of clear focus during which she can follow simple commands and answer easy questions, but these periods follow no set pattern or time of day. They come and go when they will," Galen answered with a tired sigh. He said nothing further about the cape incident. The whole fiasco had resulted in him losing one of his oldest assistants because the man could not keep his mouth shut, leading to news getting out that there was a selkie in the medical wing. It was only his stern threats of bodily harm and the increased presence of palace security that kept the gawkers away.

"She was able to tell us her name during one such period, though we don't know much else about her," he continued after a minute. "Her ability to communicate is limited to broken speech comprised of only a few short words at a time. We're assuming that it is caused by the loss of her pelt. She has indicated as much as best she can."

Clearing his throat Galen stepped forward, carefully easing into the selkie's line of sight. It took her several moments to notice him but once she had she reluctantly drew away from the sculpture. He favored her with a smile that was meant to be reassuring and beckoned her closer. Only then did she see Orm standing nearby. She blinked and slowly drifted over to join them, an uncertain frown ghosting across her lips as she touched down beside the desk. She was cautious but not afraid - an improvement over last week when she shrank away from every new face she saw.

"King Orm, this is Willow. Willow, this is King Orm. He is the one who rescued you," Galen said once she was settled. The selkie - Willow - blinked again, her eyes going a bit wide as she stared at Orm. Then her gaze shifted to something behind the King. It took a second for Galen to realize that her attention was focused on the cape flowing behind him, and another to see that she was lifting her hand as if to grab the object. He quickly but gently blocked her from doing so, wincing a bit at the confused look she gave him in return. "Ah, no, Willow. Remember what I said about touching?"

For her part Willow just lowered her arm and turned her gaze to the office floor before murmuring a quiet, "Yes. Sorry..."

[tylosaur]

"She remembers my cape, Galen." Orm says, before turning his gaze to Willow. Interesting name for a selkie.

"Hello, Willow. I have some duties for you. You'll be helping me with my capes and anything else I tell you."

Orm looks at Galen. "My valet is getting old and can't reach very far. She likes my capes. And I doubt she'll be up to anything more complicated than clasps and light cleaning."

Practical.

"And she won't be bothered if she's under my personal protection. She's had enough trauma."

[oncewas]

Several moments passed in silence as the doctor brooded over his king's words. He watched his patient lift her head and slowly nod in understanding, unable to stop himself from wondering if she knew what she was agreeing to. Personal experience had taught him that Orm was often a difficult task master to please and expected a certain level of competence from those that served him. Galen had no doubts that beneath her layers of trauma the selkie was intelligent but her limited attention span and coherency worried him. Either way his hands were tied. He would have to settle for keeping an eye on her from a distance, in case he needed to pull the medical necessity card and remove her from the situation if it proved too much for her.

"I can only plead for your patience. As far as we have been able to tell Atlantis is completely foreign to her and I suspect there will be a considerable learning curve," he finally said, voice tired but professional. Placing his hand on the small of her back he gently guided Willow forward, flashing her a smile he hoped was reassuring when she looked up at him. Returning his smile after a couple of seconds she pulled away to stand beside Orm, her expression shy and nervous. Galen sighed and stepped back. The time had come for him to let go. "She is as easily startled as she is distracted," he added as a final caution.

[tylosaur]

"She would be safe as my personal servant. No one would dare be overtly mean to her when I am around, and she will not be around many people when I am not here, Galen," Orm said, reasonably, watching Willow.

He held out his hand to her and spoke in a far gentler tone than anyone has heard him use. "Hello. You are to help me with my capes."

Orm flicked a glance up at Galen. "Send my best to Aurelia, and if she's available, I think I can use a woman's hand with Willow, for women's things."

He drew away and lightly guided Willow by her elbow as he left Galen's domain.