Author's note: A shorter chapter this time around, but not as short as I actually thought it was going to be. I apparently prattle too much. Ah well. Onward to year three! Woo! I like year three. In honor of the new year, I finally gave the story an image - not mine, I suck at drawing, but hey, not the default picture anymore, so yay!

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Her Island

A strong gale welcomed Juvia back to Inis Stoirm. They weren't more than thirty minutes out of Galway when the sky turned dark and the sea swelled, tossing the small boat about, leaving it yawing form one side to another. Whatever disappointment the loss of the sunlight that had followed them to Galway might have brought was tempered by her delight at the tumultuous journey through the gale. She hadn't been on many boats in her thus far short life, but she felt no fear as the boat pitched forward with the swelling waves. The sea and storm did not concern her. They would not harm her. They rose to greet her like family she had never known. She also took some enjoyment in watching Professor Jose, who managed to somehow look both simultaneously both very green and very pale, gripping the railing for dear life the moment the boat first began to roll. He lasted no more than a couple of minutes on deck before desperately scrambling for the small cabin. It took a great deal of restraint to keep from laughing, which Juvia imagined the professor would not have reacted kingly to.

"Do you not want to join him now? It's bound to be a bit warmer inside."

Juvia turned to the deckhand beside her and shook her head. "No, Juvia is enjoying the storm."

"As you like. Just be sure to keep hold of the railing. Don't want you falling overboard." Juvia smiled and nodded. "Good lass." He glanced over the rail, down into the sea. "Looks like the merrows are enjoying the storm too."

"Merrows?"

"Aye, can you see them?" He pointed to some spot on the port side of the boat. Not seeing more than rolling black waves, she attempted to lean out and get a better view by climbing up the railing, but she was pulled back down again by the deckhand before she made it past the first bar. "No, you don't. You're a wee thing. One good burst of wind and you'll be better acquainted with the merrows than either you or they want. Here, come stand to my left here now," he said, standing back to let her shuffle over while keeping hold of the railing. When she was settled, he pointed to the black waves. "See out there? The patch of green in all the dark?"

She studied the dark water. A few minutes of staring at all the black, she caught a flash of green slipping through the waves. "Juvia sees it! That's a merrow? She didn't know there were merrows so close to Inis Stoirm."

"There's a colony just off the coast of the island."

"She's never seen them before," Juvia said, entranced as more figures breached the waves. She couldn't make them out clearly through all the rain and sea, but there seemed to be a dozen or so.

"They don't care much for people but spend enough time on the sea and you'll see them all around Inis Stoirm."

"Are there selkies around Inis Stoirm too?" Juvia asked.

The man shook his head. "They stick to the Scottish coasts, largely. I thought I saw a siren off the Inis Stoirm coast once, but I may have imagined it. It was during a storm worse than this years ago, so might have been a piece of driftwood for all I know. Ah, and there's Inis Stoirm."

Juvia looked away from the shapes in the distance and turned to the horizon to see the first glimpse of Inis Stoirm, the tall cliffs that formed the western half of the island just barely visible through the torrential rain. She smiled. Far out as they were, she could hear the barking of seals and the cries of sea birds in the distance, the only wild denizens of the island, save the flock of ravens that haunted the northern bluffs. She missed them and the crash of the waves against the rocks and the solitude of the bluffs and the damp sand of the beach beneath her toes and her little retreat hidden in the rocks. She could do well enough without the southern part of the isle, but the northern part of the isle was hers, and she had missed it. When she first left for Hogwarts, she had been so happy to get away, but every day spent away from its shores brought about a stronger sense of homesickness than the day before that eased only now its craggy form came into view.

They soon turned from the north shore and headed south, the imposing figure of the old abbey barely visible on the bluffs, stone towers poking out of the rolling mist and rain. The great bell of St. Brigid's rang as they passed to call the sisters to Vespers, she imagined. Her heart tightened slightly with each great clang of the bell, a feeling that only intensified as they rounded the point, the little town of Baile Stoirm coming into view.

They were going to blame her again, weren't they? Blame her for the storm.

That had bothered her last year. To be blamed for storms that had nothing to do with her.

Not this year. She was prepared this time. She wasn't going to let them affect her like they had the last time she returned. So what if it was raining? It wasn't hers. It would let up when it wanted to.

No matter what they thought, she was going to keep her head high and not give a damn what the others said, just as Gajeel taught her. And possibly throw a fist at the first jerk who got in her way. Also like Gajeel taught her.

Determined to keep calm and aloof, she prepared herself for the reception she dreaded while the boat pulled into the harbor. However, it seemed none of the villagers were willing to brave the storm, the harbor full of moored fishing trawlers and the old stone pier devoid of all life. The captain deftly positioned the boat at a slip along the pier. Jose scarcely waited for the boat to settle against the dock before scrambling down the gangplank just barely lowered by the deckhand. Juvia waited far more patiently for the boat to be fastened to the cleats on the dock before descending the gangplank with the offered help of the deckhand. Jose was already halfway down the pier by the time she stepped onto the old stone structure.

"Mind your step now, lass. The pier's more water than stone at the moment," the deckhand said. He carried down Juvia's trunk next and set it onto a waiting trolley. "You going to be able to pull that, seeing as himself doesn't seem inclined to?" he asked with a disapproving glare after the retreating professor. After a short pull of the cart made no progress, he waved her away from the trolley and pulled his wand from his coat. He cast a quiet spell on the trolley it sat on, and the trolley began to roll towards her on its own. "It'll follow you but make sure you keep a hand on it to keep the Muggles from being suspicious. We see you in a few months."

She bowed to the deckhand. "Thank you!" Careful not to slip on the wet stone or let a gust of wind knock her over, she trotted after Professor Jose while the rain pelted down on her. She didn't both to try to open her umbrella, the pink parasol rendered useless against the wind that wailed like a banshee over the pier.

Neither she or Professor Jose spoke as they followed the pier as it wound its way around the harbor, not that they were likely to be heard over the roar of the rain and the crash of the waves as they slammed against the pier. Jose, for his part, didn't even acknowledge her as she finally pulled up beside him, which Juvia was rather grateful for. Before the storm hit, he had been full of superficial smiles and congratulations on her exam results and expectations for her improvement in the Phantom Lords next year, all of which she listened to with polite, though reluctant attention. She was grateful for the storm and its disruption, and now he seemed intent to be free of her or at least being free of the storm.

At the end of the pier, they were greeted by a sister in habit, a sister that Juvia had never seen before. The woman called out to them as they approached, struggling to be heard over the wail of the wind. "Miss Lockser, Professor, welcome! I'm here to take Miss Lockser to the abbey."

Juvia glanced at the professor who merely shrugged. "As you like." Without a parting word, he turned and made his way back up the pier.

"Come!" the woman called out over the rain. Apprehensively, Juvia followed after the sister as the woman led her away from the pier and up the cobblestone streets that led out of the village. The storm had taken some time to navigate through, and night started to descend. Between that and the storm still wailing around them, the streets of Baile Stoirm were mercifully empty, the only signs of life beyond her and the woman in front of her were lit windows scattered amongst rows of boarded up houses. There were no people to stare at her. No whispers to drown out. It seemed her pep talk to herself had been for naught - the village didn't assemble to jeer and scorn her. They left her quite alone. She didn't hesitate to admit she was relieved for that. She wasn't all that eager to have her courage tested.

Instead, Juvia and the sister only had to struggle against the rain and wind that whipped at them. Juvia didn't have much of an issue with the rain. She never did, no matter what form the rain took. She'd as soon have an issue with her fingers or her feet. The sister, however, was clearly no Inis Stoirm native. Every step the sister took had to be earned, a battle fought over every inch between her and the storm. Though it may not have been particularly generous of her. Juvia couldn't deny that a small part of her enjoyed watching the sister stumble up the road. Sure, she would have much rather it had been Sister Paul, but in the end, they were all much the same. This new one wouldn't be any better that the rest. In a few weeks' time, she'd hate Juvia as they all did. Better to preemptively dislike her. It'd temper the disappointment later.

When they finally broke free of the little town and were traveling along the muddy trail that wound its way up the bluffs to its lonely abbey, the sister beside her paused. Assuming the woman had gotten stuck in the rain-drenched earth, Juvia paused beside her, suppressing a smirk. However, instead of some muttered curse as the woman fought to wrench her feet free, everything around Juvia went silent the wind no longer roared in her ears. Nor did she feel the pelt of rain against her skin. The wind and rain continued their assault all around her but no blow ever landed against her.

Juvia turned to the sister who held a wand pointed upwards as she tried to wipe away the locks of damp auburn hair sticking out from under her coif. Finally able to see the woman more clearly now that she wasn't contending with the gale, she could see that the woman was hardly much older than she was. She couldn't have been much older than twenty. "Oh, that's better, isn't it?" the woman said as she finally managed to moving away the last dripping locks of hair from her eyes. She smiled brightly at Juvia, the girl beginning to feel a little bad about delighting in her struggle either. "What a wretched storm. I've only been here three weeks, and it's been raining for two of them. What gloomy weather this little island has."

Whatever charitable emotions Juvia started to feel towards the sister flickered and died with the condemnation of her island, particularly by a foreigner after only a few weeks. Her island had its faults, to be sure, but so did the sister, Juvia imagined. What right had she to cast judgment on it? Juvia pursed her lips and turned her focus away from the woman to the path that would carry her back to the abbey, the old structure still cloaked by the torrential rain.

"Oh, don't worry," the sister said, apparently mistaking Juvia's silence for concern. "We're not visible from either the abbey or the town. I'd just figured we'd progress a little more easily with some shelter. I should probably introduce myself now that we have a quiet moment. I'm Ariadne - well, I guess I'm Sister Theodosia now. Have to get used to that. I just took orders not too long ago and haven't quite gotten used to the whole thing. It's Juvia, yes?" Juvia nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Juvia. The Reverend Mother's told me a great deal about you. She's quite proud of you, you know. She tells me that you're quite the potioneer. I can only hope to be as quick a study at potion making as you."

"You're here to study potion making from the abbess?"

"Why, yes, of course." The woman appeared confused a moment before realization dawned on her. "Oh! I didn't mention. How stupid of me. I'm training to take over from the Reverend Mother."

"Take over?" Juvia's stomach lurched a little. "You're to be the new abbess?"

"Yes," the sister beamed, apparently quite proud of her would-be role, all the while Juvia's face fell. "But don't you worry," she added hurriedly when she noticed Juvia's expression. "It'll be years before I'm ready to take over. I was always rubbish at potions, so I've a lot to learn from the abbess. You'll have left Inis Stoirm years before the abbess leaves." The woman glanced up towards the abbey. "Well, we best be going. It's getting late, and the Reverend Mother will worry soon. And I think that was the bell for Compline. Oh dear." Sister Theodosia started down the path again, Juvia following quietly at her heels. The sister spoke the entire way, but what she said, Juvia didn't know. Her mind was otherwise engaged and couldn't be bothered to pay attention. The words left Inis Stoirm rang in her head like the bell that called the sisters to their end of day prayers, drowning out wind, rain and prattling sister.

It didn't make sense, did it?

She never really belonged at the abbey. The sisters didn't want her. The wards didn't want her. The village certainly didn't want her. And she didn't want them.

But...

She just always rather assumed she'd return to Inis Stoirm when she'd finished at Hogwarts. Where else did she have to go? She had no home but Inis Stoirm. She had no family but its storm and seas. The only future she could see for herself, happy or not, was as its next abbess. And she was the obvious candidate, wasn't she?

She was born on Inis Stoirm.

She trained with the Reverend Mother for years.

She was a gifted potioneer, according to Precht. Well, he never said that out loud, but he had to think that or he would never have spent so much time training her.

And yet, this woman...

This woman dared to come to her island.

To take away her future.

It wasn't fair!

Surely she had other futures. Futures of her own. Why did she have to take Juvia's?

Where... where else could Juvia go? They didn't need two witches on Inis Stoirm, and they wouldn't accept her as a sister anyways. As abbess, they wouldn't have had a choice. Now, though...

The patter of the rain took on a familiar beat as a steady roll of thunder rumbled overhead. Spirits sinking as all hopes of summer sunshine died with the turning of the storm, Juvia turned her gaze skyward to the storm that was hers once more. "Great," she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest to stave off the cold as they wound their way ever closer to the only home she had and the one she was destined to lose.

The sea sang to calm Juvia as she sat on the northern beach, not that she was in much a temper to be calm. Knees pulled up to her chest and chin resting on them, she watched the waves wash onto the shore, the surf surging towards her but never quite reaching. The rain pattered gently against the pink parasol balanced in the crook of her arm, like an old friend chattering away to tell her all it'd been up to while she was gone.

It hadn't quite been the summer that she had planned. She had imagined warm - well, warm for Inis Stoirm - afternoons spent showing the Reverend Mother all she had learned that year. She imagined sunny walks upon the bluffs while the sea sparkled all around her. She had imagined reading her books on the beach while the afternoon sun kept her and her books dry and warm. And yet, none of that had manifested. She hardly saw the Reverend Mother. Wherever the abbess was, so to was Sister Theodosia, and Juvia's opinion of the intruder hadn't improved any with further acquaintance. Between her and the sisters and wards that despised Juvia as it was, Juvia spent as little time at the abbey as possible. Instead, she left the abbey every day after early morning prayers with a smuggled sandwich and some scones from the abbey larder and headed for her beach. She'd spend the first few hours studying in her cavernous den, and then spend the afternoon sitting on the beach, bundled in her heaviest coat and cap, watching the endless black waves as they raced towards the shore. She'd only trudge her way back to the abbey shortly before the bell called for vespers. It wasn't the ideal way to spend the summer, but it was at least peaceful on her own. She more than once contemplated placing a cot by the table inside her den and being done with it. She could live out her days as a hermit by the sea.

No one missed her during these daily treks to the north. The sisters and the wards were busy with their own concerns which now no longer concerned her, and the abbess invested all her time in Sister Theodosia's training. Juvia was left to her own devices. She'd wander out when she wanted to and came back when she felt like it, and as long as she didn't make a scene trekking in late for prayers, no one cared to know where she was.

At least the rain and the sea wanted her, even if no one else did.

And, if nothing else, her self-imposed isolation had left her plenty of time to study the texts that Professor Precht had assigned her. Both were safely tucked away in her den now, set on the table with all her other texts for the year. She could recite them by memory now, or at least she hoped she could. She really wasn't looking forward to a year with Dragneel as a partner in Potions. Though a year with Dragneel didn't seem nearly as terrible after a summer with Sister Theodosia. The woman knew nothing about potions. What little time she had spent with the sister and the abbess during the former's training had been spent cleaning up after melted cauldrons, airing out the study after backfired potions spewed fumes all throughout the room and herding curious sisters and wards away from the study. And the woman couldn't even make a decent cup of tea.

Okay, maybe that was a little petty, but...

She felt him before he spoke. It was as though the poison that still lingered on her skin ever since that night in the forest went cold, frozen claws digging deep into her skin. When he spoke, those claws twisted in her flesh.

"Don't you ever take a chill sitting her out in the rain?" he asked, same as he had when first she met him.

She turned slowly to the man standing beside her. Tristan smiled down at her. That smile no longer stirred pity within her, sad and soft and small though it still was. She saw something else in that smile now. Something cold. Calculating. After scrambling to her feet, she backed away from him, careful to keep her path back to the steps clear, not that fleeing up the stairs was likely to be a huge help against someone who could apparate.

"I'm rather surprised to find you here. Well, rather surprised to find you rain here, I suppose," he said. "I thought you'd have that particular problem well in hand. Did you not enjoy the spell I gave you?" She didn't respond, her hand reaching into her woolen coat's pocket and grabbing the wand she had sewn into the coat for easy access. "Not able to manage it, were you?" he taunted, and Juvia's pride rankled at the insinuation.

"It's a dangerous spell," she snapped. "It killed," her brain caught up with her mouth and cut it off before she could finish the thought and supplied another, "...the flowers around Juvia."

He smirked. "A pity, but... flowers," he drew out the word with a sort of smug satisfaction that left her blood cold, "can scarcely be cause for hesitation. Flowers should never stand in the way of something you want. Besides, the spell is quite harmless, at least to everyone but its caster. If harm did occur, it's more likely the fault of the prison you used." Her free hand reflexively went to the amulet, the spiral shell silent as it had been since that night. "I'd recommend disposing of it. I'd be happy to take care of it for you, if you wish." He held out his hand, open palm beckoning, waiting for what was hers.

She took another step back, clutching the shell tight in her hand. Calling on courage from the rain that had grown from the gentle chattering patter it had been a few moments ago to a heavy deluge, she stood as tall as her little form allowed. "Juvia wants you to leave. Now. She wants you to get off her island and never return."

He chuckled. Mirthless. Without feeling. It was a hollow sort of sound that sent a shiver crawling down her spine and drained away what little warmth she still felt. She gripped the wand in her hand tighter. "Your island? What lofty demands you make, little queen of a crumbling isle. Tell me, how do you intend to enforce your decree?"

He wasn't afraid of her.

Her fingers clenched around her wand, her nails digging deep into her palm.

How dare he not be afraid of her? She was terrified of herself, and he dared to stand there and mock her after all that she'd done? After all that she could do?

She'd make him afraid of her.

The rain still fell cold and hard - she couldn't hide her fear from her rain, it knew her better than she knew herself - but she would get the rain to listen to her all the same. It would do as she wanted. It was her rain. Her sea. Her island. She would be obeyed. She couldn't summon the same blinding anger that she felt when first the rain boiled around her, her fear too overpowering to be usurped, but she called for the boiling rain all the same as the surf rose and lapped at her feet. The rain that fell on her continued to fall cold and hard, but the raindrops that fell around her hissed and steamed as they fell onto the waves rolling in. Even as they landed on Tristan, they sizzled and burned, leaving bright red welts on his pale skin. But still he was not afraid. He showed no pain. He just stood there smirking at her.

"Juvia said leave!" The sea swelled around them, the waves slamming hard against the shore. The roar of each break of the waves thundered as it echoed off of the cliffs that encompassed them and as the surf surged to just below her knees. All around them, lightning illuminated the cliffs as bolt after bolt split the sky.

But still, he wasn't afraid.

His smile, however, turned genuine. He almost seemed... proud? "Very impressive, little queen. You're learning. I will obey," he said with a mocking bow. "I'll leave you, and I will not return." He stepped forward and set a hand on her shoulder. She tensed at his touch, her body temporarily forgetting how to breathe or move. Leaning in, he whispered, "But a word of advice, from one tyrant to another, know that flowers have no greater purpose in this life than to fall at your feet and to die by your hand. Rule well, my child." With that, he apparated away, leaving her alone on the storm assaulted beach.

Her heart racing in her chest, she looked to the swirling storm overhead. She closed her eyes and willed the storm to subside, relaxing only when the rain against her skin went from a constant, indecipherable deluge to a gentle patter. The tide receded, and the sea ceased waging its war on the shore.

It had listened to her.

For once, it had listened.

Was this the beginning of the control Headmaster Makarov promised she would one day learn?

She wanted to will it to part, to let the sun through once more, but whether due to loss of adrenaline or overexertion, her strength failed her. Her legs buckled beneath her, and she sank onto the damp sand. Falling back onto the beach, she stayed there, hours passing as she watched the storm overhead and smiled.