AN 1. yes i'm still working on this
2. The relationship between Katrina and Jenny as I feel it is supposed to be is so incredibly important to me. Then again, pretty much everything involving Jenny is supes important to me, so.
3. I can verify that after watching Vikings, my fight scenes have become about 100% more violent. Especially with the Horseman. I mean, hatchets.
Jenny was getting used to horseback riding. She wasn't sure how she would actually fare in a fight, even though she had practiced handling her spear while riding Zubin, but she certainly felt comfortable enough to ride him to the coach house. Which, she supposed as the house came into sight, was tantamount to riding him into battle.
As she neared, Death's horse (whom she shamelessly entitled 'Snowball' in her head) came out to stare her down, just as War's horse had. Jenny made a show of completely ignoring the horse as it snorted and stared at her, red eyes digging into her back.
"Calm down," she said, striding past the horse. "I'm not gonna hurt your dad."
Like I could, she thought to herself, walking to the front door. As she came closer, it opened and Death appeared. Just as she had expected, he had a hatchet in his hand. She hoped the concessions she had made for him, such as the appearance after night and her lack of weapons would dissuade him from challenging her. Then again, he didn't like her as it was, and posturing seemed pretty much hardwired into his system.
Jenny stopped a couple of paces away, more out of respect than fear of his weapon (though, getting chopped by it would certainly hurt like a bitch, even with her new found healing powers). He didn't say anything, just watched her from the doorway. He hefted the hatchet in his hand, like he was barely thinking about it. Jenny knew full well it could end up in her chest without a thought.
"I want to see the witch," she told him. His expression soured, and the grip on the hatchet tightened.
"What purpose do you have with Katrina?"
"I want to talk to her. I doubt she has much of a social life, here."
The suspicion on his face didn't change, but he shifted down from a battle stance to a more casual power stance. He returned to hefting the hatchet, considering her.
"You came to simply visit her?"
"Yep. Here for some quality girl talk, which, if you let me by without hacking off an arm, could be really awesome for you."
He lifted his head, and in that second, he seemed like Abraham, not the Horseman. His gaze turned a little bit more considerate, like he actually cared about what she said.
"How so?"
"Well, for one, it would make you look like less of a possessive kidnapper," Jenny said frankly. Abraham's eyes narrowed, but the complete lack of spite in her words kept his hackles lowered.
This is too weird. I'm reasoning with Death, because he's worried about seeming like a possessive creep to his crush. This is my life, now.
"Look, this way Katrina won't think that you're keeping her locked up for your use only. She'll like you a whole lot more if you let some friends come by. Plus, it's not a bad thing, having someone close to Katrina that's in your corner. If you let me in, I can talk you up, make her think about you in a different light. Trust me," she added when she saw him start to weigh her offer, "this is how girls work."
"Fine," he said, stepping aside in a sharp, efficient movement. "She's in the left wing."
Jenny nodded at him, and walked into the house. She could feel his eyes on her as she strode to the back of the house, and then took a left. Katrina's room had candles inside of it, the light warm and enticing.
Katrina was brushing her hair when Jenny paused in the doorway. Jenny had never had a very clear picture of Ichabod's wife. For so long, she had been a figure, a name that had done things centuries ago that was drastically affecting everything now. And then had been burned at the stake for it. Looking at her now, it was very apparent that Katrina did not fit the enigmatic martyr image in Jenny's head. She was tired and thin boned, and seemed exceptionally mundane. But there was some reserve of fire in her chest that Jenny could feel across the room, produced by a magical little coal that had refused to go out.
That was what made Jenny believe she had saved a Witness, aided President George Washington, and combated the forces of the Devil.
She was faced away from the door, but Jenny could see enough of her face to tell she was completely zoned out, the strokes of her hairbrush slow and half-hearted. Her room looked nice enough, with a couple chairs, a vanity, and a chest at the foot of the bed, but something about it still seemed empty. Katrina must have sensed someone in the doorway, because jumped when she saw Jenny in her mirror.
"What're you—who are you?" she asked, voice low as she hurried to her feet.
"Jenny Mills." The words felt odd on her tongue. It sounded so simple, so vague.
"Mills—you're the sister of Abbie Mills? Is she here, is Ichabod—are they here again? Abraham—the Horseman, he's here, you have to leave! If he finds you—"
Katrina cut herself off, noticing the casual way Jenny was standing there, completely unconcerned about anything. She frowned, and fell back a step.
"No, you're not…no, you're one of Moloch's servants." The mild betrayal on this woman's face hurt almost as much as Abbie's devastation had. Jenny didn't react, though, just stood there with a blank expression.
"But…you are Miss Mills' sister, correct?"
"Yes."
Katrina frowned, and leaned against the chair. Jenny gave a thin smile at that, clearly seeing Katrina's worry at yet another spy supposedly in the Witnesses' midst.
"I am Abbie's sister, as well as the Horseman of Famine," she explained, the words taking on a dark ring to them. Katrina looked up at that, expression even more disheartened. "It's…a pretty new development."
"Why are you here?" she asked, voice softer now. Jenny shrugged, glanced around the room.
"I figured you could use someone new to talk to. Change things up a little bit. Can I…?" Jenny gestured into Katrina's room, and she gave a slow nod. Jenny stepped in, but stopped in the middle of the room. Katrina was already staring at her like she was a rabid animal, Jenny didn't need to freak her out any more.
"Three Horsemen. When…when did this happen?"
"Two weeks ago."
"And prior to that…"
"I was on Abbie and Ichabod's team, yeah. And then…things kinda got away from me."
Katrina didn't say anything, but the way her face fell, a sorrowful understanding that came from seeing the same thing happen to both her former fiancé and her son, tugged at Jenny's heart. It was like Katrina was pulling her into her arms and whispering, "It's alright, I know it is hard," and meaning every word.
"But we're not here to talk about me," Jenny said, shrugging and glancing away. Katrina gave another slow nod, and let the subject go.
They spent about ten minutes making small talk, then Jenny bid her a polite goodbye. Katrina seemed a little bemused the entire time, as if she couldn't figure out why Jenny was really there. When no wicked machinations could be found, though, she started warming up, relaxing enough to smile and sit down in the chair.
A day or so later, Jenny had returned, sailing past Abraham with a casual, "Hey", and a warmer, "How's it going?" to Katrina. The woman again looked surprised to see Jenny there, but she seemed less wary than last time. That was, until Jenny closed her door and dropped her backpack on Katrina's bed.
"So, let's talk," Jenny said, turning to face Katrina. She stood akimbo, surveying the woman before her.
"…Yes?" Katrina asked, shifting where she stood. Jenny sighed through her nose, figuring it was probably best just to tackle this head on.
"Alright. I've brought you a survival kit for when you go on your period. I'm hoping you haven't had it yet, which means it's been, like, two hundred plus years since you've had one, so it could be a little brutal."
"What?" Katrina asked, staring at Jenny like she was more than a little crazy. "Are you—do you mean—"
"Your time of the month? Your womanly cycle? Uh, when the flow cometh? Yeah, you know what I'm talking about," Jenny said, nodding at the vaguely mortified expression on her face.
Jenny guided Katrina over to the bed, and they both sat down. Jenny pulled out each item and explained what it was used for. Katrina looked doubtful and a little embarrassed at first, but then started nodding thoughtfully.
"What prompted you to do this?" she asked when Jenny finished, casting her eyes over the boxes and bags Jenny had packed in.
"Uhm, the basic human decency I have left? I mean, once I realized that you would be having to deal with it by yourself, I knew something had to be done. There is no woman on earth that should be forced to live without modern feminine hygiene products. Plus, I don't think you exactly wanted to ask Headless out there if one of the Hessians could go on a midnight tampon run."
"Ehm, no," Katrina said, breaking into the first honest to goodness laugh Jenny had heard from her. She grinned at her, and popped a couple M&Ms into her mouth (Jenny had told her that they were for when 'things get bad', and Katrina had been curious, and then delighted. The bar of Cadbury chocolate was not to be opened until 'things get really bad').
Katrina gave a soft sigh, and neatly stacked up her new arsenal. She ran a finger over the glossy wrappers, eyes drinking in the bright colors. The quiet intensity with which she had her first gaze at the modern world made Jenny want to take her into the city, show her everything at once, give her all of the wonder and the disappointment the world now had to offer. Ichabod was curious about the developments of this new world, but Jenny was certain Katrina would thrive in it.
"Thank you for this, Miss Mills," she said, sincere and a little incredulous that Jenny would do something like this for her.
"No, no no, you're not calling me 'Miss Mills'. I had enough of that with your husband. You're gonna call me Jenny, alright?"
"But we only just—"
"Look, I just walked you through what to do on your period. Formality has kind of been shot to the ground."
"I suppose you're right," Katrina allowed, another embarrassed smile on her face. She put another M&M into her mouth, showing inhuman restraint by eating them one by one, making them last for as long as possible.
"It's all a little strange. I mean, this…this is certainly unlike anything we had in my time," Katrina told her, gesturing vaguely at the pile between them.
"Yeah? What'd you do before? No, never mind, I don't actually want to know. Focus on the here and now, right?"
"Yes, I suppose that's a way to do it," Katrina laughed, holding the secret of archaic hygiene practices to her chest.
When Jenny left, she had Katrina's laughter and Abraham's nod of grudging gratitude filling her chest.
Things started moving at a faster rate. Moloch's time was nearing, so the Horsemen needed to gather the Hellfire shards immediately. Jenny wasn't entirely sure what schemes War was putting in place to keep the Witnesses busy, but she could feel his spells and his curses taking place across town, and the wash of sorrow that went with it. She shut her eyes every time, closing herself off from the pain and suffering to the bystanders in their wretched and glorious war, a neat little prologue to what would come later.
Her part in all of this was a much quieter sort. A few trips to local farms and water supplies and she was fine. The magic she stirred into the water and grain barrels seeped throughout. It would be days until the Witnesses noticed the goodness starved from the population, draining everyone they came into contact with to help.
And then it was her time to act, but in a much bigger way. She mounted Zubin and rode out, spear gripped firmly in hand. She followed the road to one of a thousand historical sites in Sleepy Hollow, an old field that had held some special battle or other. What she was interested in, however, was a great tree perched at the edge of the clearing. It was older than Sleepy Hollow itself, and had witnessed the bloodshed and then flourished from the bodies littering the ground.
She swung off Zubin, feeling the earth brace itself against her. And then, deeper, the hum of something buried far below.
Jenny brandished her spear, then spun it so that the blade faced the earth. She gouged in the tip, tracing out the shapes of starvation in the dirt. As she worked, the sun sank, as if too disheartened to stay in the sky. Jenny kept working, seeing where she needed to plant her spear tip as she wound her way around the enormous trunk, Moloch whispering the words into her head. It was so much easier this way, having a grand master that knew everything she needed to. No more blindly fumbling about in the dark, no more desperately hoping some half-cocked plan would work out, just faithful obedience and results.
The runes she made hummed to her, a grinding, satisfying sound of things happening. They glowed black in the dirt as their magic seeped deeper and deeper into the ground, going to poison the roots of this ancient tree so that it would give up the next Hellfire Shard, the Stone of Oblivion.
"Jenny?"
She whirled around, spear at the ready before she registered the voice. But her stomach seemed to catch on before her head, because it was clenched in knots before Jenny made out the shape of Abbie, lit from behind by Ichabod's flashlight.
She grit her teeth, and waited.
"Jenny, what're you doing?"
"Following orders," she said, cocking at eyebrow as if to say 'Surprising, I know' as Abbie crept closer, flashlight fixed on her face. It flicked over to Zubin, who pranced and huffed at them. Jenny noticed there was a soft glow coming from his mouth, like he had a furnace between his ribs.
"Miss Jenny," Ichabod began, voice so, so careful, "what, may I ask, caused this betrayal? When did you ever willingly consort with Moloch?"
"When it really counted," Jenny said, adjusting her grip on her spear.
"You committed your life to fighting him!" Abbie said, hurt and angry and so very close to falling to her knees. "You gave everything to defeat him, and now you're his henchman?"
"Yeah, well, sometimes there are more important things," Jenny said, not taking her eyes from her sister's face. There was no way she could understand. With her limited understanding, the understanding of a human sent to do divine work with no one to tell her how, she would never see that the end was inevitable. The only hope she had, any of them had, was being spared the worst of the destruction. When the world was over and Moloch rose, she was ensured a place in Jenny's kingdom. Few could claim to be so lucky.
"You know I can't let you do this. We can't let you do this. You've got to be stopped," Abbie warned, and Jenny noticed for the first time that her sister was holding a gun.
"Alright," Jenny said, settling into a battle stance and pointing the spear at her chest. If she hurt her, then it was all done to spare her Moloch's wrath later.
A whinny shrieked across the field, making both Witnesses wheel around. Death charged towards them, burning axe raised high. The two of them scattered, throwing their flashlights to the ground as they went for cover. Ichabod dove behind a tree, while Abbie disappeared into some bushes. Death slung himself off of his horse, and stalked to where Abbie was.
Ichabod ducked from tree to tree while Death was preoccupied, coming over to engage Jenny. As he neared, Jenny saw the flash of something in his hand, but she stayed still, waiting for him to get within reach. Ichabod scooped up a long, relatively straight branch as he came, and whirled out the first blow.
Jenny blocked, almost laughing at his graceful, formal style, full of showmanship and twirls. Jenny, on the other hand, fought down and dirty, wasting no time on honor or dignity. She moved with the intent on making him stay down, slamming her staff against his. In one moment of uneven footing, he received a vicious blow to the ribs, which made him double over, wheezing for breath. Jenny swung down the blade end of her staff, which he just barely blocked. The blade sunk a good ways in, lodging into the wood. Jenny jerked back her staff, yanking the tree branch from his hands. Ichabod was immediately searching for another weapon, staggering out of the way of another heavy handed blow, this time with the blunt end.
Jenny heard Abbie yell in pain, and glanced around to find that her battle with Death was even less successful. The two had wandered closer, as Abbie frantically tried to evade Death in all senses of the term. She had managed to injure him, Jenny supposed she had had her bullets blessed by an especially powerful priest or something, but he was still coming full force, axe burning through the air. She had yelled out when the blade had come to close, burning her arm through her jacket.
Jenny stabbed out with her spear, twisting it between his arms as he attempted an over handed blow. He snapped his head over to her, baring his teeth in anger, but Jenny just snarled, "She is mine," daring him to try to kill her sister. She pulled the staff away, feeling Abbie staring at her from the ground, but Jenny did not meet her eyes.
Ichabod took advantage of her distraction and tackled her in the side, wrestling the staff from her hands. Zubin screamed, a rough, terribly piercing sound, and almost kicked Ichabod in the head. He scrambled back, allowing Jenny enough time to get to her feet. She reached for her spear, then paused when she realized she couldn't feel her arm.
She glanced down at it, frowning when she saw the charm loosely fastened to her wrist. It looked like a bracelet in and of itself, except it was connected to a hemp cord. And, of course, a frosty blue light was forming at its center. The numbness that was consuming most of her arm was starting to turn cold, creeping up to her shoulder and her neck. Presumably, it was meant to incapacitate her, though without causing her serious harm. She yelped and grabbed her spear, scraping it off and flinging it away. Her arm still hung like dead weight, but the feeling was coming back into it. She turned back to Ichabod, wrath suddenly swinging up in her chest, and she hefted the spear. A small seal at the bottom of her staff started to glow, heated the same way Death's axe was. This time, when she struck Ichabod with it, he would be sealed into a state of perpetual starvation, only a drizzle of consciousness remaining to register his suffering.
Ichabod blinked at her, as if suddenly realizing his mistake, and leaped out of range.
"Leftenant," he called, using his I'm-totally-not-freaking-out-see-how-calm-I-am-I-am-the-epitome-of-calm voice, "perhaps maybe we could call in for reinforcements?"
"Just thinking the same thing," she grunted, whacking Death in the back of the knees with a stick and making him buckle. Jenny saw her paw around for something, then produced a sort of reed whistle. She blew on it for all she was worth, but no sound was produced. Still, Jenny felt a thrill go across her skin, feeling the whistle's affects rather than hearing it.
She glanced around, ready for something to happen, whether it was the trees come alive and hoist the two Horsemen into the air, or a new ally come raging out of the tree line, wielding some sort of magic powered bazooka. And yet, she was not ready for the hair raising hiss-like sound coming from ahead. She and Death turned to see something running toward them, crossing the clearing at an alarming speed. Death grimaced and turned to her, managing, "It's the Kindred," before the monster was on them.
Jenny had never seen the monster in action. She hadn't actually ever seen the thing, period, but Frankenstein's monster had been a very apt description. Except it was fast.
The creature launched itself at Death, wielding what looked like a pickax. He caught the pickax on his broad axe, then shoved the Kindred away. Abbie got to her feet, watching the fight, ready to run the moment things turned sour. Jenny willed her sister to leave, willed her to go back and find safety until Jenny could come for her, but when Abbie turned to her, her gaze said 'one left'.
Jenny lifted her spear, the seal on the bottom cooling so she could safely fight her sister, when again Ichabod slammed into her, pinning her to the ground as he frantically wound the hemp cord around her wrists. She gasped, face in the dirt, trying to heave him off as the numbness raced up her again, leaving her useless. He got off of her, then turned to the runes she had burned into the dirt, and the opening they had made. She tried to force herself to her knees, tried to do anything to stop Ichabod from pawing into the hole at the ancient tree's roots, but she fell back to the ground, heaving for breath.
Death hacked a hatchet into both of the Kindred's thighs, momentarily forcing the creature to the ground. He wheeled around, murder in his eyes as he sized up the two Witnesses, and then his fellow Horseman. And in a miracle, he stalked over to her, and struck off the charm with the hatchet. Jenny braced herself with arms that did not quite work, gasping as the ice let go of her ribs. She looked up at him, but he had already turned away, reengaging the Kindred, which had rearmed itself with the pickax.
Jenny picked up her spear, and faced Ichabod. Dirt was flying as his hands searched for their prize, completely absorbed in his task. Jenny gripped her spear with both hands, and then whacked him squarely in the chest with it. He flew backwards, coughing as he attempted to regain his senses. Jenny knelt before the hole, and stabbed her spear into the roots blocking her way. They shriveled and moved aside, revealing a perfect black ball.
Jenny clenched the Stone of Oblivion in her hand, and stood up.
"Horseman!" she called, stalking to Zubin (she did not notice Abbie crouched over Ichabod, glaring at her with all of the hate and pain her crooked heart could possess, she did not she did not she did not). Death glanced at her, astride her mount and ready to go, then took one last swipe at the Kindred. It jerked back, snarling at him, and then Death was climbing onto his own horse. They galloped away together, leaving the Witnesses to pick up their pride and their hope in silence.
She wasn't sure if it was Jenny or Famine grinning in triumph at their first victory as a Horseman.
Jenny was brushing Zubin when Moloch visited her again. She felt her hands clutch at his mane, while her mind was ripped away to Purgatory.
It was as impersonal and efficient as before. Moloch's very presence forced her to avert her eyes as he gave orders. There was no congratulations at the acquisition of the Stone of Oblivion, no display of pleasure that his agents performed so well. Not that Jenny had been expecting it, but the flat, unmoving demand that she always deliver shook her. It was a thankless god she served, indeed.
A few finer details of the plan were provided, and then Jenny was again banished from his presence. She sagged against Zubin, legs having gone weak. The horse seemed to realize that she needed support, because he stood still, offering all of the comfort he could give.
Jenny let out a long, slow breath when she realized that tears were dripping onto his side.
To shake off her gloom, Jenny visited Katrina. Abraham seemed to have resigned himself to her randomly appearing whenever she felt like it, as he no longer stared her down at the door, and Snowball didn't come over to menace her and Zubin. Jenny felt quite pleased to think that, inch by inch, Abraham was removing the stick from up his ass.
"Jenny," Katrina said, seeming genuinely pleased when she saw her at the door, "I thought I heard you arrive."
Jenny smiled back at the woman, and allowed herself to be waved to a seat. Things started out like normal, but Jenny quickly realized that Katrina's small talk was hiding a pointed line of questioning. Jenny smiled very politely, and defaulted to the evasive tactics her doctors had come to despise. Eventually, Katrina gave up the charade.
She gave a huff of breath, and said, "I had to try." She lifted her chin in challenge, as if proclaiming her steadfast loyalties to the Witnesses. It warmed Jenny's heart, because it was sweet, in a naive way.
"Sure," Jenny said, rocking onto the chair's back legs. "I just resent being interrogated. Had it done too many times in the past."
Katrina frowned at her, as if confused that Jenny didn't snap at her. She pursed her lips, and hesitantly asked, "You…won't tell Abraham, then?"
"What good would that do? King and country over there is suspicious already, he doesn't need to think I'm giving away secrets."
"I don't want to see them hurt," Katrina said, slumping back into her chair and looking away from Jenny.
"Neither do I," Jenny admitted, remembering her attempt to doom Ichabod to a starving nothing with a disconnected squeeze in her stomach. Katrina's eyes swung back to her, full of questions.
"Then why do you fight against them?"
"It's a big picture sort of thing," Jenny sighed, looking at Katrina's firmly shuttered window.
AN I am 1000% convinced that now Abraham is the Horseman, he sees everything as a giant pissing match.