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.

Comments

[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.