"It seems like the storm front hasn't passed," Anelisse mused, the old shawl wrapped around her shoulders billowing in the turbulent winds, their whistle an eerie call through the salt drenched cliffs, "I wonder how long it will remain in the bay for."
"Who knows," Celeste replied, her eyes cast skyward as she watched gulls circle to and fro, clearly unsettled by the weather, "it means the fishermen will be out of work until it passes though." A feeling of dread settled over her, knowing that each day without work were days when they would be without food.
If it hadn't been for the money Adder had given her Celeste wasn't certain what would have happened.
"Atleast you get the day off." Anelisse reassured, always looking for the light side to Celeste's dark. She lazily twirled a strand of her ashen hair around her finger, "We can spend some time together for once. Consider it a sign of good fortune."
Celeste smiled in response, she hadn't had much time with her sister since she'd taken to going out to sea with the fishermen, just their nightly conversations over their meager meals before they slept. This had been the first time in nearly a year that the two had ventured to town together, had really ventured anywhere together.
Yes, maybe this storm was good fortune.
Celeste and her sister made their way down the old path towards town, the weight of the copper in her pockets welcoming, especially since it seemed she was to be out of work until the storm passed. Passing the old fork in the road they came to the edge of town, the point where the grass and dirt changed to pressed cobblestones, the sounds of the market quiet for once due to the weather.
Passing by the baker Celeste's nose was onslaught with the smell of fresh baked bread and pastries, a memory tinkling at the back of her mind of a place she had long since forgotten. Anelisse let out a groan of longing, her lips pressed together in a tight line.
"It's been years since I've had fruit pastries," she considered, her eyes glistening with memories as she glanced over the pastries propped in the windows, "when father was here we would go every evening to the baker and share one. Apple, peach and cherry in the summer." A brief glimmer of happiness crossed her face, "We'd walk the shore after, Father and Mother swinging me between them as the waves danced along the shore."
"I imagine it was wonderful," Celeste supplied watching the happiness fade from her sister's eyes, reality reeling itself back into place, "it will be wonderful like that again someday, I'm sure." When that day was coming she wasn't certain but for Anelisse she'd be willing to look forward to such a day.
"Yes, it will," Anelisse's voice chimed as she pulled the old faded umber shawl about her shoulders, her worn cream-colored dress less than a barrier against the chilling wind, "we'll have pastries every evening one day AND we won't have to share." A tinkling laugh.
"I'd be frightened to share a pastry with you," Celeste drew dryly, her eyes glancing over her sister and a smirk tugging at her lips, "I'd be fearful of my life to even try to take one from you. Who knows you might even eat me with that appetite of yours."
"That's not true!" Anelisse shot back, her cheeks flushing red, "I have a lady like appetite mind you. Sweets just…. seduce me."
Celeste snorted, an amused sound. "Did you just describe the pastry as seducing to you?" A grin broke across her face as she faced her sister, who was still clearly flushed, and crossed her arms over her chest, "I wasn't aware you were into that sort of….sexual endeavor. Lady like indeed."
"Celeste!" Anelisse barked, her face now several shades darker than it had been moments before as she glanced around checking for listening ears, "that's not appropriate! You shouldn't refer to…such things so casually."
"Don't worry," Celeste waved her hand nonchalantly, her fingers coming up to her lips and making a zipping motion, "my lips are sealed. I swear I won't tell Anidre of her daughter's deepest darkest desires."
"You're foul," Anelisse hissed, swatting her sister across the shoulder, "you must have been raised by a flock of brutish men if your feminine mind is filled with such ridiculous thoughts." Anelisse regretted the words as soon as they left her mouth, Celeste flinching ever so slightly at the mention of her past.
"Celeste," Anelisse said, realizing her mistake, it was the one thing that they never talked about- "I didn't mean to…I.."
"It's fine," Celeste responded coolly, her face once again set in a wide grin, her previous discomfort hidden cleverly beneath it, "and some lady you must be to walk about in your knickers all the time." A distraction, anything to get away from the subject of…..that.
"I do not strut about in my knickers!" Anelisse yelled stomping her boot in annoyance, catching the attention of others in the market, their concerned glances shifting to the two girls outside the bakery, "If either of us prefer a state of undress it's you!"
"And?" Celeste cocked her head, a devilish grin on her face, "I'm perfectly accepting of that. You, however, have not come to terms with the wildness that lurks inside. A sexual vixen only waiting to be unleashed, untamed and ready for ravishing-"
"You're spouting nonsense-" Anelisse blurted, her hand waving wildly at Celeste, trying to clamp shut the mouth that would not cease its spewing. The girls exchange was rapidly interrupted as a young handsome man with dirty blonde hair approached them, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.
"What was this about a sexual vixen?" The man asked, his voice thick with the accent that all the people in Vanica had, his hand idly scratching his scruff covered chin.
At his tone Celeste's shoulders went ridged, the playful aura about her shifting to one of lethal intent. The amusement left her face immediately as she drug her eyes from her sister to the intruder on her left.
"Why Celeste wouldn't be referring to you Miss Anelisse would she?"
A look of horror passed over Anelisse's face as she slowly turned to face the man, the long planes of his attractive face lifted in a poison coated grin. The blush deepened, something that would have seemed entirely impossible.
"No Lukas," Celeste's features were set in a cool wall of stone as she addressed him, her eyes icy as she shot daggers at the man, "I was referring to the bitch in heat in the alley so desperately calling your name. Why don't you tend to her."
"Celeste," Anelisse reprimanded, her arms suddenly wrapped across her chest beneath her shaw, attempting to hide herself as best as possible, "There is no need to be rude." Oh, there's plenty reason to be rude Celeste thought as she wedged her way between the man and her sister, enough to throw his sorry ass off a cliff.
"Your sister speaks the truth," Lukas supplied, running a hand through his shaggy golden locks, "I was only wanting to join in on the teasing. It has been ages since I've seen either of you in town." His attention directed itself towards Anelisse, his eyes taking on an almost feral sheen, "Especially you Miss Anelisse, you look as lovely as ever." Taking her hand, he gently pressed a kiss to the back of it, his lips lingering.
"T-Thank you Lukas," Anelisse replied, the flush in her face now for an entirely different reason, "I'm glad to see you are doing good as well."
"Always," he replied, his voice a sultry baritone purr, "especially now that my Father has struck up trading agreements with several merchants on the mainland, the hardships that this island knows should soon cease."
Celeste snorted, loudly and rudely. "Maybe if you'd share some of that wealth your father has then that would actually be the case." Lukas turned to Celeste, looking down his nose at her as though she were vermin.
"The wealth of my family will always be shared amongst my people, human people that is." A brilliant cruel smile broke across his face, "and that wealth would be extended to all those who need it amongst my people," a glance towards Anelisse his eyes burning with molten desire, "all they need do is ask."
"We don't need your handouts Lukas," Anelisse spoke quietly but firmly from behind her sister, her silver eyes hard and mouth set in a tight line, "now please go about your business so we may tend to our own as well."
A breathless laugh. "Of course, Miss Anelisse, I did not mean to offend," A bow followed with a flourish of his hand.
Celeste contemplated kicking in his knee caps, before he straightened his form.
"Please enjoy the market on this fine day," he made to walk to Anelisse but Celeste wedged herself further, he paused tilting his head in the way a predator might when sizing up prey, "and, Miss Anelisse, please do not forget my proposition."
"She's already told you no," Celeste growled, shoulders backing as she evaluated his stance, calculating just how much effort it'd be to deal with the fallout of ripping his throat from his neck and ceasing his endless blabbering, "so move your ass before I move it for you."
"It wouldn't be difficult for you would it," Lukas drew, his eye fixating on Celeste as he shifted his neck, three long haunting scars showing from his neck to beneath his collar, "how easy it would be for you to kill all of us on this island really, with that strength and agility of yours."
He stepped closer, his lips curling back from his teeth, "Killer's born in beautiful bodies that's all the fae are," his smile grew wicked, "even amongst their own kind it would seem if those scars on your back are any indication-"
Celeste saw red, her body tight, ready to strike, consequences be damned-
"Enough of you," Anelisse's voice had gone dark, its previous waver gone as she shoved herself between the man and Celeste, her shoulders backed and head high, a queen amongst mortals, "Be off before I personally see to it."
Without so much as a glance towards him Anelisse hooked her arms through Celeste's and pulled her away, directing their attention towards the tailor further down the road.
He did not pursue.
The blood was pounding in Celeste's ears, rage wracking her whole being as she seethed quietly through her teeth. Killing him would be so easy, so incredibly simple-
"Forget him," Anelisse ordered her sister, the previous confidence still sent on her features, her eyes forward, "He is not worth the consequences of ripping him limb from limb. He is all bark and no bite, he knows he can't win against you and instead provokes you with words. Cool your temper."
Celeste heaved one heavy sigh from her chest, shoving the anger deep and sealing it beneath the surface. She would have her chance to deal with Lukas Pennington, royal fool of Vanica, one day.
He had been a nuisance in her and her sister's life since the incident on the cliffs so many years prior; having taken it upon himself to harass her by any means necessary. Including directing his attentions and affections towards the one thing that meant everything to Celeste.
She'd kill him before she let him get his hands on Anelisse.
Stepping inside the tailor's shop Celeste was encompassed in a well-tended wooden paneled room, the smell of leather oils prominent. Celeste remembered the first time she had been to the shop was the day after she'd woken up for the first time on the island, when Anidre had brought her here to be fitted for a new set of clothes.
A small counter sat at the far side of the room in front of a small red door that lead to the work room in the back. Across the walls hung rolls and rolls of fabrics, ranging from subtle greens to rich hues of red and purple to the palest creamiest beiges. Behind the counter sat a middle-aged woman with brown hair and brown eyes, her thin brows narrowed in concentration with the fabric in her hands, absorbed with the details of her stitching.
"Pennelope," Anelisse greeted, startling the woman from her work and causing her to drop her needle in surprise, her hands flailing. Anelisse winced, "I'm sorry! I didn't mean to startle you."
Pennelope looked up from behind the counter, assessing who had spoken, before her face broke into a wide smile. "It is good to see you girls, come in come in!"
Stepping lithely from behind the counter she made her way towards the two women, her round face lit up with pleasure, "It has been too long since I've seen either of you! My goodness how you've both grown." She looked over both girls, her brow furrowing.
"You're still wearing those clothes I made for you two years ago," she clicked her tongue in annoyance, "I told you to come to me when they started to wear out and I would make new ones for you."
"We could never ask that of you Pen," Celeste said as the woman scrutinized her old white shirt, holes having formed in the shoulders and the waist, "we haven't had the money to pay-"
"Hush," the round woman said, waving her hands rapidly, "this is nonsense, I should have known you two would be wearing rags before asking for any help."
Her accent was unlike the rest of the occupants of Vanica, a slow draw clearly derived from the country fields in which she had been raised, "Come along. Let's get you measured so I can get you two dressed in something that's not literally falling to bits off you!"
The girls glanced at one another, small smiles tugging at the corners of their lips. For all the ignorant cruel people that inhabited this tiny island there were a handful of very kind individuals who tried to look out for them. Individuals who had watched the girls grow with nothing but each other for help and warmth.
Pennelope being one of them.
Pennelope had come from a wealthy farm family on the main island with a rich dowry. That she'd fallen in love with the island's cobbler, Roan, and had married him against her parents' wishes. She'd moved and had happily settled in the small town of Vanica.
Being the only tailor and shoe maker on the island they made a decent living catering to the fishermen and their families but had an expansive savings that allowed them to be generous in their dealings.
"Anelisse," Pennelope chastised, walking around her, "Your dress is skin-tight in the hips and chest! You've clearly grown since last I fit you." A pointed look to Anelisse, "You shouldn't be flouncing about in something so skin tight, especially with these foolish young sailors flitting about." A blush crossed her cheeks as she murmured her feeble apologies.
"And you," Pennelope said, pointing an accusing finger at Celeste, "you've been out in the sea water in the same pair of pants and shirt for the last year," She tugged at Celeste's shirt, promptly ripping it causing Celeste's eyes to flair open, "the fabric may be strong but it's not made to hold up against that much wear and tear without ripping!"
A gentle smack was placed against the back of Celeste's head, "Stubborn prideful girl."
Throwing the piece of fabric, she had ripped from Celeste's shirt aside she ushered the fae woman into the back-work room, maneuvering around spools and blocks of fabric. Rounding a corner Celeste came face to face with a mirror.
"Stay here," Pennelope ordered and began muttering to herself, "now where did I put that measuring tape?" She mozied away, intent on finding her missing tool. Celeste however paid no attention as she looked at herself in the mirror for the first time in years, slightly taken about by the woman who gazed back.
Her long-tapered heart shaped face had gained more structure, no longer holding the soft childish curve it had only a few years before, her high cheekbones prominent. Her eyes, violet and ever striking, were still as large and almond shaped as they had ever been, her arched brows sitting delicately above them. Her thick lips, diveted with a delicate cupids bow, sat down turned as she glanced over her body, thinner and taller now than before, her ribs poking out slightly.
"I'll never understand how you're so beautiful," Anelisse pondered aloud from behind Celeste, her hands holding onto her shawl as she looked at her sister in the mirror, "it's kind of cruel really to be the sister of such a beautiful creature," a phony dramatic sigh from upturned lips, "I'll never find a husband with you to compete with."
"Don't worry," Celeste replied glancing over her shoulder, pink tinging her cheeks slightly, how many years had it been since she'd been called beautiful? Had been praised for her physical attractiveness? Those thoughts of vanity had faded when she'd woken up on that beach so long ago, "You can have all of them. I'd settle for a library full of books and a means to hear music."
"Mm books how lovely they must be," A pause and a finger tapping lightly on her chin, Anelisse's heard slightly cocked to the right, "But AH! Alas, I am illiterate, so I will have to settle for the wooing of men to keep me entertained," she pressed a hand to her forehead, feigning weakness, "however will I survive."
"Oh I'm sure a pair of broad shoulders could help you keep your strength," Celeste joked a single brow rising, "but I thought you weren't interested in the pursuits of men? What happened to that long-sought dream of being a healer?"
"Oh yes yes I'll get to that," Anelisse said, "but until I learn to read or find someone to teach me the healing arts I won't be much use on that front."
"You just need practice," Celeste reminded her sister, having spent the first few years of their time together teaching her to trace letters in the sands, "You know the letters shapes and the sounds you just need material to read and write, you'll pick it up quickly."
"I suppose so," Anelisse mused her eyes trailing over her sisters exposed back, her eyes stopping on two festered and tapered scars that ran alongside her shoulder blades to the middle of her back.
"I always wondered how you survived that," Anelisse whispered, her eyes glazing over as she took in the site of the anger red marks that stretched down her sister's shoulders, "They've always looked so painful." Celeste paused for a moment, her mind unwilling to acknowledge the memory that so often haunted her dreams.
"I do not know." Celeste replied, unwilling to even use the mirror to glance at the brandings on her back, the brandings that had marked her an outcast from her people. Those marks served as a reminder to her that she was never to return to the place she had once called home.
A pregnant silence followed.
"I found it! I found it!" Pennelope broke the silence as she came bounding into the room, waving a measuring tape above her head, "now we can get started."
Several hours later the girls were making the ascent back to their home, wearing new, albeit large, clothes until Pennelope could make their new ones. She'd handed over the articles muttering about how thin they were. She had also taken the time to measure their feet so that boots could be crafted for them both when Roan returned from his trip on the mainland.
In true Pennelope fashion she had refused the money that Celeste had offered her and had shooed the girls out of her shop saying she had a wedding dress to finish for Emily Lingard, the stitching she had been working on before they'd interrupted, before she could get to work on their clothes.
Having acquired everything, they needed from the tailor and cobbler and having spent none of the copper Celeste had insisted on taking Anelisse to get her paints, allowing her to buy the small set of primary colors in the window alongside small containers of white and black paint. Celeste had also told Anelisse to pick out some paper, thick and weighted, for her creations.
Anelisse had nearly cried in delight once they'd left the shop, her new paints and paper tucked beneath her arm.
They'd headed off to the market then to purchase dinner- bread, cheese and thick cut of beef steak-before stopping off at the bakers.
Celeste knew they shouldn't have splurged further but seeing Anelisse bite into the apricot pastry had made the purchase well worth it. They had split the pastry and ate it on their walk home, talking and laughing about the antics of the locals and which sailors they fancied over the sailors they did not. By the time they reach the house they had laughed themselves hoarse.
Opening the creaky door Celeste made her way inside, intent on prepping the food for dinner and starting the fire when she was met with an unexpected site. Sitting in the chair wrapped in a wool blanket was Anidre.