Jenny believed in monsters.
She knew that her mother wouldn't approve of such fancies, so she kept her stories to herself. They weren't highborn, not by any stretch, but they weren't so low as to hold to such superstitions. That's what her mum had told her the one time she had mentioned the whispers she'd heard, the tales that the maids told each other when they knew the housekeeper wouldn't hear them. Since then, Jenny had made certain not to repeat what she heard or saw in the shadows.
But that didn't mean she'd stopped believing.
Jenny trusted her own eyes, you see. Even if no one else did.
She was falling.
Jenny didn't remember what had happened. She didn't know where she was or why the ground had disappeared out from under her feet. All she knew was heat and darkness and the rush of air as she fell.
Something was wrong. She just didn't know what it was.
What had she forgotten?
Jenny shrieked as the man grabbed her, shoving her up against the wall of the alley. He covered her mouth roughly with his hand, stopping her cry.
There had been stories of murders in the papers for weeks, terrible ones, tunnel diggers working on the Underground being torn to pieces. She hadn't been sent out to run errands since the murders had begun; instead she had been put to work doing chores inside the house that typically would have been handled by various maids, all of them older and more experienced than her.
It had almost been a relief when the cook had grabbed her and told her to nip out and pick up some needed supplies.
The basket of purchases she had been holding slipped out of her grip, spilling onto the ground. Her arm ached from the bruising grip the man had on her arm, and terror flooded through her.
She closed her eyes.
There was a sudden cry. The hand on her mouth disappeared, as did the grip on her arm. There was a thud, followed immediately by a whimper.
Jenny's eyes shot open.
The man was crumpled on the ground nearby, blood tricking from a cut on his forehead. He let out a moan, his eyes half-closed as he curled in on himself.
A cloaked figure stood over him, staring down at him. The figure turned toward Jenny, face hidden in shadows for a moment before the angle was right for Jenny to see.
A monster stared at her from under the hood of the cloak.
"Run child," the monster said in a voice that even Jenny, as scared and confused as she was, could recognize as feminine.
Jenny ran.
The air around her was stifling.
She felt as if she was on fire, questions rushing through her mind and disappearing before she could quite grasp them. Her thoughts were muddled, and fears kept playing at the edges of her awareness.
"Jenny?"
"Jenny? What's with those tears, love?"
Jenny startled at the sound of Emma saying her name, reaching up to quickly rub her eyes with the back of her hand. She hadn't meant for anyone to see her, especially one of the parlour maids. She knew most of the servants weren't fond of her, mostly because they didn't quite know where she fit in. She wasn't old enough to be put to proper work yet, only running errands and the like. The only ones who didn't seem to mind her were the scullery maids, and that was because they liked to think there was someone lower than them.
"What's the matter, pet?" Emma asked gently, kneeling down in front of Jenny. She reached out to brush a few strands of hair out of Jenny's face.
Jenny hurriedly pulled away. "Nothing," she said, rubbing at her eyes one more time.
There was a skeptical look on Emma's face, but she didn't argue. She just shook her head, standing back up. "Your mum was looking for you," Emma said. "You better find her before she loses her temper."
Jenny nodded and looked away. There was a pause, and then Emma sighed and started to walk away.
Once she was certain Emma was gone, Jenny reached down and carefully touched her arm. The bruise she knew was there was hidden under the cloth, away from prying eyes.
She closed her eyes. Blue eyes stared back at her, framed by a face that no one could mistake for a person. Jenny didn't think she'd ever forget it.
There were voices, two of them, both sounding as if they were coming from far away. Jenny couldn't make out what they were saying, other than from time to time her name, but they sounded familiar. So familiar.
"Jenny?"
Two voices. One male, one female. She knew them. She was certain of it.
"Jenny, can you hear me?"
Sometimes Jenny wondered why her mum hadn't been turned out when she became with child, like so many others were. She'd seen it happen time and time again over the years, with Mary and Emma and Annie and Judith. It wasn't a secret who the father was, every time. No one spoke about it, no one dared, but the Master of the house was not the most subtle of men.
Besides, anyone who had eyes could see that Jenny looked more like him than some of his legitimate children did. The Mistress couldn't have missed it, but to the best of Jenny's knowledge she had never said a word.
She'd heard the whispers of course, that the lady's maid was more than just a lady's maid to the Mistress. That the Mistress turned a blind eye to the Master's whims, for the most part, as long as he turned a blind eye to hers. Jenny didn't know whether they were true or not. She doubted she ever would.
Still, her mum had been allowed to stay, and Jenny had learned at an early age to do whatever was asked of her.
But it hadn't gone unnoticed by her, even as a child, that she'd often be assigned to clean the room while the governess was in with the children. She had a quick mind, and she put it to use. Sometimes, she thought she learned more than the ones the lessons were actually for.
She wasn't falling anymore. The world was spinning around her, she could feel it, but in the darkness it was hard to tell just how fast it was turning.
Flames lapped at her fingers and toes. Darkness tried to bury her.
And all throughout it, a voice kept whispering her name. The memory of blue eyes flashed in her mind, but she couldn't quite remember whose they were.
Jenny wasn't quite certain when she had realized she was a sapphist. It's not as if she woke up one day and realized she preferred the company of women. It was a slow process, full of realizations and discoveries and secrets, all of which came tumbling out into the open at the worst possible moment.
"You're not any daughter of mine."
It had hurt less than she'd thought, turning her back on the home she'd known her entire life. She was young and healthy, a hard worker, with a decent grasp of her letters and a basic understanding of mathematics. Life wasn't easy, it never was, but she knew that she would get by.
She always did.
Sharp, stabbing pain came out of nowhere. Jenny screamed without even realizing it, names falling from her lips that she hadn't thought of in years.
There were hands on her face and whispers in her ears, but she couldn't make them out. She only wanted the pain to stop, to let her sink into the darkness.
"Please," she whispered into the void that surrounded her. She wasn't quite certain who she was talking to or what she was asking, but it didn't stop her. "Please, please, please."
"Jenny," said a voice that she almost knew.
Jenny had learned to avoid the shadows as she grew older. It was a lesson she had learned at a young age, one her memory never quite let her forget. The bruises on her arm had long faded away, but the face she had seen staring out at her from under the hood of a cloak still flashed in her mind every time she closed her eyes.
She wasn't scared. It wasn't fear that kept her from straying into the darkness. It was something stronger, something older, something deep within.
"Get your hands off of him."
Jenny wasn't quite certain what it was that caused her to stop. Maybe it was the fact that the voice she had heard was that of a woman, strong and without any fear. Maybe something inside of her had recognized the voice. Maybe the wine she'd had earlier had given her just enough courage to be foolish.
Whatever the case, she'd found herself creeping toward the shadows rather than away. She wasn't quite certain what she had expected to see. She knew it hadn't been what she found.
There were three thugs, all of them large and well-built. One of them, with fiery red hair, held a knife to the throat of another man, this one much smaller with messy brown hair. The other two men, one with blond hair and the other with brown hair so dark it was almost black, had guns in their hands that were pointed at a cloaked figure standing nearby.
Jenny's breath caught in her throat.
"Jenny."
She knew the voice was saying things other than her name. She could hear the whispered murmurs, and she knew on some level that they were words. She couldn't make them out, though, no matter how much she tried.
"Jenny."
Her body felt heavy, like there was a lead weight pulling her down. Maybe there was.
It was over before it truly had a chance to begin. The blond man made a move, bringing his gun up as if he were preparing to shoot. There was a flash of movement, a few startled cries, and before Jenny could even see what had happened all three of the men were on the ground. The fourth man, the one with the knife at his throat just a moment earlier, casually straightened his bowtie as if being held at knifepoint was a normal part of his daily routine
The hooded figure turned, staring straight at Jenny. It was the same blue eyes that she remembered seeing as a child, in the same inhuman face.
Jenny finally remembered to breathe. Then she promptly forgot how again when the cloaked woman all but flung herself at her, pinning Jenny against the wall. The hood fell away, revealing green scales that reminded Jenny of nothing more than a snake or a lizard.
"Vastra!" the brown-haired man called out, sounding worried.
Jenny stared into blue eyes, surprisingly human-looking despite the face they were in. She should have been scared, a part of her knew that. But she wasn't.
The lizard woman stared at her, as if she was reading Jenny's mind. As if she was looking straight into the debts of her soul. Maybe she was. Whatever the case, after a moment or so she moved her arm away and stopped holding Jenny against the wall.
"Forget that you saw us," the lizard woman said, her voice hard.
Behind her, Jenny saw a flash of movement.
She reacted on instinct, almost before her mind had a chance to realize that the movement she'd seen was the dark-haired man pushing himself up from the ground. Or that he had a large, nasty-looking knife in his hand. Without even thinking about it, Jenny shoved the lizard woman away from her, all but throwing herself between the dark-haired man and her.
And then there was pain.
"Do something!"
"I am doing something."
"Doctor, she's dying!"
"Yes, I'm well aware of that. Shut up now and let me try to stop that from happening."
"Doctor!"
"I know. I'm trying."
A young man, brown hair and eyes as dark and angry as a storm. A woman, skin green and scaled like a lizard with eyes that could look into Jenny's very soul. Faces to put to the voices that seemed to be getting farther and farther away.
Blue eyes stared down at her, confusion shining in them. Jenny almost smiled, but the pain in her chest kept her from doing so. She felt odd, almost as if she was disconnected from her body.
"What is your name?" the lizard woman asked, and her voice sounded exactly like Jenny remembered from that day all those years ago.
It took her a second to realize that she needed to reply.
"Jenny," she said, her voice hitching slightly. "My name is Jenny."
"I am Vastra," the lizard woman said, tilting her head ever so slightly. It was a surprisingly human action. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Jenny. I believe you may have just saved my life."
Jenny's chest felt as if it was on fire. She closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself to breathe through the pain. "It only seemed fair," she whispered. "I think you saved mine once."
Her only reply was silence as the darkness swallowed her.
Jenny thought that she saw a flash of blue out of the corner of her eye, as her vision tunneled and went black. Maybe it was only a dream.
She felt as if she was on fire, her body burning to a crisp. The voices were gone, not even whispers left to keep her company. The wind roared around her, screeching and clawing at her.
Someone screamed. Jenny thought it might be her.
Jenny woke up slowly, her head pounding and her chest protesting at every little movement. Her thoughts were heavy and muddled, her mind not quite working fast enough to tell her what had happened. She was in a bed, but it wasn't her own. It was too large, too comfortable.
"How are you feeling?"
She turned slightly to her right, toward a figure she hadn't even noticed sitting there . . . and suddenly her memories came flooding back.
Vastra stared back at her, an unreadable look on her alien face. Yet there was something there that Jenny recognized, even if she couldn't quite place it.
"Alive," Jenny whispered hoarsely, belatedly answering the question she had been asked.
Vastra's mouth twitched into something that couldn't be anything but a smile. Without quite understanding why, Jenny smiled back.
"You must have questions," Vastra said, after a moment or so. "Ask them. I owe you that much."
A thousand questions ran through Jenny's mind, ranging from the inconsequential to the urgent. When she opened her mouth, however, only three words came out. "Who are you?"
There was a long pause. "Who and not what," Vastra murmured, sounding almost surprised.
Jenny believed in monsters. The person sitting beside her wasn't one, of that she was certain. Vastra was a woman, nothing more and nothing less. Well, nothing less, at least. Whether or not she was something more had yet to be revealed.