Celeste felt her stomach lurch as she clung with her very being to the deck of the ship—her ship- pleading the sky to pick a position and stay there. It did her no good. She let out a pained moan.
She would never drink again so long as she lived.
Closing her eyes in the hopes the world might stop spinning if she couldn't see it, she propped herself upright and immediately felt the contents of her stomach slosh dangerously before rushing up into her esophagus. She clamped her lips shut and decided sprawling flat on the deck was perhaps her best option after all.
Just take it nice and easy, she placated her revolting stomach, trying to focus on the cool, salty breeze that danced across her nose. She could make out the varying groans and sounds of retching from the other members of her "crew" around her.
Daring to peek open an eye again, Celeste hissed at the sunlight burning her retinas, blinding her. Glancing around she caught no sight of that elaborate plum hat that she'd spent most of the night eyeballing.
This was Fallon's fault, entirely Fallon's fault.
She'd broken out numerous bottles and kegs of alcohol upon anchoring their ships off the coast between Rainefell and Portmouth, celebrating the Loreley's new captain and the freedom that the captives had won. The woman had insisted that everyone was to partake and that "no" was not an acceptable answer.
Celeste still wasn't certain how the auburn-haired captain had managed to coerce her into drinking, one minute she'd been refusing a glass of wine and the next she'd been sitting on the deck laughing as Gandriel stumbled to and fro, reciting a tale that she vaguely remembered involving a plucked chicken and three socks.
That woman was indeed a tyrant and a damn good con-artist.
The world lurched again and Celeste let out a long, slow breath.
She'd pour every damned bottle of liquor off the boat once she got upright. If she could get upright.
A snore distinctly resembling that of a boar rumbled behind her and she didn't need to look to know it was Gandriel, sprawled out where he'd fallen sound asleep the night before. Anelisse lay across her legs, drool beginning to seep into the calf of her pants.
Celeste couldn't bring herself to care.
She had never received so many embraces or thanks from the people of Vanica, people who had once showed her such disdain. It had felt rather out of place.
Anelisse laughing so hard that she puked down the front of Gandriel's shirt, however, did not. She'd relished the reconciliation that she and her sister had shared the previous night, as each had been able to tell their side of the story in full, the others having fallen silent around them.
There was more she needed to tell her. The truth, the entire truth.
Bracing herself she rolled over onto her stomach, easing herself from under Anelisse, and forced herself upright, nearly stumbling as the world righted itself around her. She hoped if she vomited it'd be all over Fallon's precious hat.
No, in it.
She'd vomit inside that plum velvet monstrosity and use the feather as a napkin.
She was never drinking again.
Making her way across the deck she carefully maneuvered around the sleeping sailors of Vanica before opening the door to the Captain's quarters - her quarters.
Opening the door, she was suddenly reminded of what exactly she'd . . . "inherited." She made a face at the monstrosity of a bed, still stripped of many of its linens, although now lacking the corpse at the foot. She'd certainly need to dispose of that and have it replaced as soon as she had the means. Maybe she'd be able to convince one of her newly-hired maids to assist in its removal.
It turned out that many of the ship's crew hadn't been very fond of their weasel-like captain either, considering most had been slaves themselves. Those who hadn't fought had easily surrendered and agreed to work for Celeste, especially when she'd returned with news that a salary would be implemented.
She wasn't certain she wanted to know who exactly was going to be supplying that coin, especially with Fallon in charge of collecting it.
It didn't matter to her in any case, coin was coin.
Celeste made her way into the bathing room of her suite, eyeing the claw-foot tub large enough for two that took up the majority of the room. She stopped short as the young maid who had helped her from her dress only a few nights before bustled past her, carrying a pail of steaming water from the fire in the other room.
The human girl, Millie, if she remembered correctly, jumped slightly at the sight of her before hiding her face and swiftly dumping the bucket into the nearly-full bathtub. She must have started preparing the bath for quite some time ago.
The soft hint of floral oils flited past Celeste's nose.
"Sorry m'lady-" Millie began, nervously bouncing from foot to foot, "I just thought you'd want a proper bath after the last few days and with what ye've done for us and all . . ." Her voice tapered off as a blush rose to her cheeks.
Celeste smiled faintly.
"I'm not a lady, but I won't say no to the bath." She noticed the steam wafting up from the tub, "I'll be sure to remember this when the coin comes in for your pay. Thank you."
"N-no need for thanks." Millie brushed her dark curls out her face, her round, freckled cheeks widening in a smile. "It's nice to finally be . . . free. To not be that man's . . . pet any longer."
Darkness rumbled in Celeste.
She'd quickly discovered where most of those old worn dresses she'd found had come from. Apparently, Rufus had had a habit of collecting maidens for his personal use and disposing of them when he saw fit. Some, like Millie, became maids when he grew bored of them. Others . . . well.
Rufus hadn't suffered nearly enough.
The satisfaction she'd felt in helping Naita chuck his corpse overboard felt inadequate now.
"And you won't be again," Celeste offered, nodding her head towards the young woman, "I will see to that personally."
"Oh, t-thank you, milad-Captain!" She gave a small curtsey. "Please, let me know if there's anything else I can do for you."
"I will. Thank you again, Millie."
The girl slipped out the door, shutting it behind her, as Celeste's mind drifted to Adder and Martha. She needed to find where they'd fled too, to let them know Vanica had been freed, not that there was anything left to return to . . .
Celeste looked forward to acquiring that coin, especially if it was enough to pay back her debts with high interest. Enough that Adder and Martha could build a home again.
She hoped wherever they were that they were safe, pushing away the image of the smashed iron figurines outside of their small cottage, and the intrigue they'd woken in her when she'd first seen them when she was small.
She'd make sure they'd have those again too. Even if they were for "warding off" fae.
She huffed a laugh.
Moaning, Celeste slipped into the large tub, the heat driving the remaining pounding from her skull. She sunk down to her shoulders, propping her neck against the porcelain rim. She could get used to this.
Her mind faded finally into sweet silent bliss and she smiled a little, relishing the peace, barely registering the sound of the door of the bathing chamber clicking open. She cracked an eye open at the rustling of clothes hitting the floor, then closed it again as Anelisse crawled into the tub with her.
She wasn't the least bit surprised at the interruption, only grunting before scooting over, her eyes still closed as she felt her sister settle opposite of her.
"So this is what a hangover feels like," Anelisse grumbled as she splashed her face with water, shuddering as the heat soaked away the residual inebriation. "Mother bless you for drawing this bath."
Celeste cracked open an eye. "It was Millie, not me."
"Well, Mother bless her," Anelisse muttered as she sunk deep into the tub, groaning in a way that wasn't entirely innocent. "Oh, this is wonderful. I've never been in a tub before."
Celeste felt a tendril of surprise race through her. "I'd forgotten."
"Hmm?"
"That you've never been in a bathtub before." She adjusted her legs to give her sister more room. "I forget sometimes."
"Well, this won't be the last time I use one," Anelisse gazed at Celeste through half-lidded silver eyes, "you can count on that. You're sharing this glorious porcelain wonderland."
Celeste snort, bracing her arms on the side of the tub and leaning her head back, raven locks pooling around her.
"Perhaps next time you can have your own bath without interrupting mine."
It was Anelisse's turn to snort. She lifted her foot and flicked water at Celeste, who hissed in annoyance as it splashed her in the face.
"Oh, hush you'll be fine, sharing is good for you. Besides, I'm in no condition to wait for my own to be drawn."
"Faerie wine hit you a bit hard last night, sister?"
Anelisse suppressed a gag at the mention of the bubbling beverage that Fallon had unearthed from the depths of her hold. She'd neglected to warn the blonde of the effects it would have on a human.
Celeste could only grin in response. "Try not to soil my bath with your regrets."
Anelisse shot Celeste a dirty look before splashing her again.
Celeste swatted at the foot assaulting her.
"Soooo," the blonde began, sloshing water onto her pale shoulders as she settled back into the depths of the bath, "Somehow we made it."
"Barely." Celeste scrubbed at her arms, removing the few flecks of blood and mud that still clung there.
"But we did." Anelisse shook her wet hair, sending droplets of water flying. "And you're now captain of your own vessel."
"Indeed."
"And you've got your own crew," a small snicker, "and a first mate, or should I say 'first moron'?"
"The latter is more accurate."
"Oh, he's not so bad," Celeste tilted her head at her sister, blinking in surprise she watched her sister loop a strand of her ashen locks about her finger, "he's quite nice to look at when he's being quiet."
Celeste couldn't help the smirk. "I thought you didn't like him."
"I don't," Anelisse shrugged, "but I'm not going to complain when I've got something to look at when he's not prattling on."
"Does that mean you don't want to kill him anymore?"
"I wouldn't go that far."
"I thought not." Celeste trailed her fingers through the water, watching the ripples glimmer in the ray of sunlight streaming through the tiny window. "Anelisse?"
"Yes?"
"I . . . I want to tell you something," Celeste swallowed as she watched her sister straighten, her half-dazed eyes suddenly sharper, "if you're willing to listen."
"I'm all ears."
Celeste watched the cooling steam rise through the air, willing to truth to her lips.
"Gandriel and I . . . we buried Anidre." Celeste swallowed past the knot in her throat and ignored the burning in her eyes. "We . . . we laid her to rest outside the cabin. I put your father's ring on her finger before . . . before . . ."
"I know." Celeste glanced up and watched the few tears that slipped from her sister's eyes as she toyed with the silver ring on her finger, the one from The Children of the Blessed, not the golden heirloom band she'd taken from their mother's decomposing form. "Gandriel told me while we waited with Fallon. Thank you."
Celeste didn't know if she could take another thank you. "This is my fault, you should be furious with me."
Anelisse shook her head and the sunlight glinted off the amethyst jewel that dangled just above her breasts, the one Celeste had given her during the Spring celebration-
"She made that choice, not you," Anelisse sniffed at swiped at her eyes fruitlessly, sighing in resignation. "She wasn't the same woman in the end; she wasn't our mother anymore."
". . . No, she was not," Celeste replied softly, "but I am still sorry."
"So am I," Anelisse leaned back, wafts of steam drifting around her as silent tears continued to pool. "I was so angry at her for what she'd done to you, to us . . . and Mother damn me for saying this, I am beyond thankful that it was you who survived." She took a heaving breath, "You are my only family. You've always been and will always be."
Celeste ignored the stinging at the corner of her eyes.
"But this, can we move on from this? Forget this?" The blonde splashed a handful of water onto her face and rubbed at it. "What's done is done, and I would like to move forward. There is life before us now, and we finally have a chance to start living it."
Celeste took a deep breath and swallowed. "Yes, but there is one more thing I need to tell you. The truth about my past."
Anelisse immediately straightened. Celeste paused, uncertain how to continue, if she should continue.
She felt her sister take her hand, her normally soft palms pruney.
"You can tell me anything," she prompted, putting her other hand atop Celeste's. "Anything, always."
Celeste blew out a breath, her mind swirling. Now or never.
"I'm the daughter of a fae lord from Pry . . . from the fae lands." She swallowed hard as the words began to tumble out. "I couldn't tell Anidre, I couldn't let her know who I was, to risk going back there."
Anelisse only crushed her palm in her own.
"T-they were all monsters, his entire court," Celeste barely noted the tears beginning to trail down her cheeks as foggy memories of terror surfaced, the cloudy faces that she couldn't place. "My father, he was a monster, a terrible beast . . ." A flash of leathery wings and cold wind filled her mind as pain suddenly split through her skull as it had through her wings as they were severed. "The scars on my back . . ." she took a breath, trying to clear her head, "I had wings once, they were ripped from me . . . he . . . my father . . . he took them from me."
Anelisse's hand had tightened to a death grip as she watched Celeste's face with an intensity and fury that nearly made her flinch. She pushed away the terror as the pain in her skull increased, the memories eddying in incomprehensible patterns.
"I-I barely survived, barely escaped," she whispered. ". . . After he ripped my wings he tossed me into the ocean, it was so cold and dark, so much pain as the water tore at me," a shuddering breath filled her, "and I remember nothing after it. I-I just woke up in Vanica." Her violet eyes flicked up and locked with Anelisse's wide silver gaze. "Even now so much of it has been blocked out. I can't remember anything but the terror. I don't even remember their faces."
A heavy silence filled the bath chamber.
"Did you have any other family?" Anelisse inquired gently, running her thumb over Celeste's palm, "Or was it just your . . . father." She struggled to get the word out.
"I-I don't remember," Tears streaked down Celeste's face as she fought to remember someone, anyone, "Sometimes I see faces, in dreams, a place that didn't seem so dark." She hissed as pain shot through her skull and pressed a palm flat across her forehead. "B-but the names, the identities . . . no, they never come to me. I know the place, I remember a beautiful city filled with light . . ." Her voice faded as vague memories began to contradict in her mind, the flitting sense of happiness that was always blotted out by the horror. "But I can never get close enough to remember anything specific."
"That was why I gave you the necklace," Celeste curled her hand weakly in her sister's vice-like grip, "because I don't want to remember it, don't want to see it . . . it marks me as one of them, and I don't know how, but I know that if they saw that necklace they would know it was me . . ." Her tears were dribbling into the cooling bath, sending little sprays as each plopped into the water. "And I cannot go back there. I will not go back there. They will do worse things than kill me." A sob slipped past her lips, "He already took my wings and I will give him nothing more."
Celeste suddenly snapped her head upright as she locked gazes with Anelisse. "Please, you musn't tell anyone, absolutely no one-"
"Never," she squeezed Celeste's hand again, "it will never cross my lips. We will sail as far away from them as we have to. You will never have to see him again." The venom in Anelisse's voice made Celeste's skin prickle in fear.
Blinking past the tears Celeste felt herself start as the vision of butterflies crafted from water seemed to appear in the air, dancing overhead in a silent waltz.
She was hallucinating.
She felt her head grow light. "Anelisse, I need to get out of the tub." Gently prying her hand free from her sister's grip, Celeste scrambled from the tub and fumbled for one of the plush towels, chills beginning to rack her body as she wrapped the fabric around herself.
It felt coarse and wrong as the world around her began to wheel. She just needed to sit down-
The butterflies shifted from their waltz into great wriggling fish, swimming through the air, tossing and turning. The faint hint of jasmine became overwhelming.
Violet eyes flashed through her mind and the pealing laugh of a blonde-haired woman soaked her conscious-
"Hey, Celeste, are you-? Be careful-!"
Anelisse's warning words grew dim as Celeste felt the world blink out before her and the floor seemed to tumble out from beneath her. The pain in her head grew to such dizzying pressure that she felt nothing but sweet relief as the pile of plush towels rose up to meet her and her mind threw her into darkness.
Anelisse couldn't help the yelp of terror as she watched Celeste crumple, the stack of towels serving as a cushion for her head as it hit solidly against the wood.
Droplets of water scattered, soaking the floor as she leapt from the tub and rushed to her sister's side. She ran her hands running over her face, trying to rouse her, ensuring she was all right-
Celeste was the daughter of a faerie lord, and a monster at that.
Fury flitted through Anelisse as she took in the ugly marks across her sister's shoulders, the pieces all falling into place.
No wonder she'd been so adamant against returning, against telling their mother who she really was-
A knock pounded on the door.
"Hey, are you two alive in there?" Gandriel's muffled voice filtered through the wood, sounding rather groggy still, but concerned. "Did you drown each other-?"
Understanding suddenly filled Anelisse as she realized that no one, and certainly no other fae, could know who her sister was. Lies began to bloom on her lips.
"Oh, yes! Uh huh, we're just fine." She patted her sister's face, willing her to rouse. "Celeste just can't hold her wine and might have taken a little tumble—"
"Is she okay?" She heard Gandriel fumble with the knob, "Do I need to come in and help?"
Anelisse swatted at Celeste's face a little harder. "Oh no, we're fine!" Her heart pounded into a gallop. "Come on, Celeste . . ."
The rattling of the doorknob ceased, but she heard no footsteps. "Um, can you . . . ah . . . fetch me a blanket? She'll come to here in just a bit."
A muffled noise of assent sounded as Celeste's eyes finally began to flutter. Anelisse blew out a relieved breath and touched a hand to her throat, across the crystal pendant, as her sister blinked up at her, eyes foggy.
Resolve filled Anelisse as she smiled down at her. For the pain that Celeste had endured and the freedom that she had fought for - she'd see to it personally that she never lost it again.