Private Tales Keeping One’s Promises

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Her whole body hurt. As she came up from the endless darkness of her sleep, her brows pinched together and she groaned. Her throat ached and her head was pounding. There was a tension in her back and thighs, and her chest burned.

Coming to, she turned her head to the side, raising a hand to touch her aching face.

"Joseph?" Why did she hurt so badly? What had happened? She struggled to sit up, but her stomach hurt. Blinking her eyes open, she looked down at the curve of her body. What...?

Shuck remembered slowly. She was pregnant. She was in a cabin. Joseph was gone, but she was with his family. Oor had come and she had made a deal with Volker.

Groaning, she rolled onto her side and tried sitting up.

// Volker //
 
Elda was sitting just beyond the healing circle, and reached out to touch her hand. "It's alright dear." she said softly. "You had a little bleeding between your legs but the baby was kicking fine just fifteen minutes ago. You gave us all a fright. Booker is..." she bit her lip. The wives had cleaned up for her, but everyone was in a rough mood. Alice and Phoebe were helping Gerard and Holden. As much as her boys were mans' men, they still had feelings, and were still conflicted about their brother being so gravely hurt. Elda had given Booker as much poppy as she thought safe, but he still woke screaming and staring in horror at his missing leg. He was sleeping, but he'd terrified the children. Everything was mad. Her own son's blood stained the kitchen table, she'd broken half her dishes, and there was a sociopath sleeping on her porch.

She took a deep breath and put Shuck's hands on her belly. "You're not going to be able to walk until the baby's born, dear." Elda said softly. "It's too risky. Using that much magic...I'm happy you saved my son's arm. If he lost painting, I don't know what we'd do. I owe you a great debt for that. But his leg...he's got a long route of healing ahead of him." She wiped away tears. "That...man is outside on the porch. We thought it best not to let him in. He hasn't moved. Gerard told me you purged the spirit from him, but it's escaped."

Elda looked nervously at the front door. "What do we do with him?" she asked quietly.
 
She felt someone touching her hand and looked up. "Elda." Shuck laid back onto the floor. "Is everyone alright?" The last thing she remembered was Booker, still bleeding out in the snow.

She hadn't even thought to ask about herself, and her eyes hastily went to her belly when she mentioned bleeding. Her assurance that all was well didn't do much to ease her worry. She had done magic. What if she'd done something to harm her baby?

Her mother didn't finish the statement about Booker, but she took her weary look to mean that he was at least alive. Shuck laid her head back, pressing her eyes shut. When Elda began to express heher thanks, she shook her head.

"No. Don't thank me. If it weren't for me, he would have never been hurt in the first place. It's me who still owes him a debt." She didn't know how and was supposed to do that, but she was determined to do something.

She opened her eyes and noticed Elda crying. "I'm sorry. Please don't cry." Shuck reached out and took her hand. It made her start choking up. They had suffered terribly for her. Shuck couldn't even begin to imagine what it must have been like for the mother to repair what she could of her son.

The mention of Volker sobered her quickly. A strange protectiveness overwhelmed her, and she propped herself onto her elbows.

"Let him in," she said with a bit of horror in her tone. "He's not a dog, he's a man -- he'll freeze to death out there. How long have I been asleep?" Shuck stubbornly pushed herself into a sitting position, ignoring the angry protests of her whole body and the reasoning that reminded her that he was a man quite capable of fending for himself in the wilderness. The wilderness was different than an open porch, however.

"I know he has done some awful things to your family, but he's mine now -- a warlock like Trahaearn. At least let me see him." She turned sympathetic gray eyes toward Elda.

She wanted to talk to him. She had promised to negotiate the tens of their pact to his satisfaction, and she still had questions for him, but she mostly wanted to see him. It was a very strange sensation, and she didn't know how to describe it. Possessive? Clingy? The fresh bond between them was tender and new, and she felt anxious thinking he might be hurting or wanting to see her as badly as she needed to see him.

// Volker //
 
Elda patted her as she tried to sit up. "Ellis is still missing...but Gerard told me so is his horse. And one of our camping sets...and several bundles of dried goods I know I didn't give Joseph. I think he went out after them in the snow." She said worriedly. "I'm sorry, I had to know it wasn't him who did this to Booker. The first day all three of the boys wanted to go out and string him up. I still don't think they fully understand what's happened." she gently eased Shuck back down on her back. "We're going to keep you in bed for the rest of your pregnancy. I know you feel safe in Joseph's room but...I need you to stay where Trahaearn did. I can reach you more easily there."

She looked at the door again when Shuck told her he was now hers. She'd taken ownership of the man laying out there. "I'll trust you." she said sternly. "But that man killed five years of good work. Holden is going to be out there rounding up animals for weeks. There is a lot this man has to atone for."
"You're not seriously considering letting that thing in here?" Phoebe shuddered as she brought over Shuck's tea, and a little plain bread for her to nibble on. "My boys are still asking me about the skinned horses. They're never going to sleep in this house again. After what happened to Booker...he can freeze for all I care. That boy has done nothing but paint and be in his own little world."
Elda shook her head. "I'm sorry Shuck. I'll let him in so you can see him for a few moments, but he can't stay in here. None of us would sleep." she said quietly. "I hope you understand."

She went to the door. Phoebe hurried back into the kitchen, nervously setting one of the kitchen knives within easy reach on the counter and herding her children toward the back rooms. Elda took a deep breath, and opened the door. "If you hurt anyone in this house...I'll let those two big men skin you alive." Elda told him.
Volker gave her a blank look. He didn't show much expresson on his face, but he was clearly suffering. He was still blinking clotted blood out of his eyes, and his entire head ached. He had been out in the snow too long. Elda stood aside to let him in. Volker didn't move. It was only when she stood away from the door did he come in, carefully keeping an eye on both Phoebe and Elda.

He sat next to Shuck, shivering a bit as the warm fire from the hearth began to chase the cold out of his bones. He needed rest. Real rest. No more nightmares. The tiny snow den had been a good set up, but Oor had destroyed it. He had no furs to keep him warm, and the spirit had destroyed his firestarters. It had been all he could do to keep from becoming frostbitten. He looked down at Shuck, sighing deeply and looking at the fire. He missed warmth.

"Right, that's you seeing him. Out you get, you." Phoebe growled from the kitchen. She was putting on a brave face, but she was clearly terrified.
 
They didn't think Ellis had been taken, but had left, and Shuck breathed a sigh of relief. She still intended to as Volker, certain he knew well who came and went those early days and also needing to hear it from his own mouth.

Phoebe brought her tea and said her piece on Volker, and Shuck's skin prickled. Her chest tightened and she felt the burn of tears in her eyes as her bond and mind fell into conflict.

"I know," Shuck replied softly, "I know. Just --please, just a little bit." Feeling strangely frantic at the idea of him being turned away permanently made her voice hurried and she looked desperately to Elda. She hadn't even thought of the choice of words, pleading openly.

He was granted in, and Shuck sighed with relief. A bit of Joseph's pride may have rubbed off on her, and she didn't want Volker to see her as an invalid in what may be the last time he saw her until after the babe came, but she had little choice until she was moved to the bed.

"Volker," she said with an automatic smile when he came in. He sat down beside her, and she reached out toward him with her brow furrowed in worry. She had no sooner done so than Phoebe spoke from the kitchen, and Shuck clung to him, whether he'd taken her hand or if she had grabbed a fistful of fabric. Her nostrils flared as she gave the doorway a surly glare.

"Are you alright? I don't know how long I've been asleep." Her grip on him loosened and her eyes roamed over him. "They won't let me keep you inside long, but I needed to see you. I promised you that I would negotiate for your freedom in our agreement, and I need to ask a few questions about what happened."

Shuck didn't withdraw her hand as she rolled onto her side ro better face him.

"Did one of the brothers leave after Joseph and Trahaearn? Lanky, freckles, curls, scruff... I need to know that you didn't hurt him," she began. "And Booker, the white one. Did you take him?"

Her expression was gravely serious as she stared up into his light eyes. The extent of his guilt would be the foundation upon which she could ask for this family's forgiveness.

Obviously her new bond with him was making her somewhat insensible, bordering desperation in her need for him to remain close by. Was this typical for such intimate pacts? His life was connected to her own, and if their connection was anything like the one she shared with Trahaearn, this new warlock's suffering could affect her as well.

// Volker //
 
Volker quietly moved an arm out of reach of her. It wasn't a rejection of her touch...just something he'd rather not have at the moment. He let her touch his leg, but his eyes were fixed on Elda and Phoebe. They clearly didn't want him in the house. He did not like that Phoebe had the knife. The direct eye contact he was making with her was a warning, but it only made her more nervous. Malice asked him a question and he broke his gaze with Phoebe to look at her. "There were three that left. The man with freckles left first on a white horse, followed by your warlock and the cripple." he told her. "I did not touch him. If I had attacked any of them they would have returned, and I needed the warlock and your shapeshifter gone to kill you more easily."

He sighed. "Booker came to me."
"Bullshit!" Phoebe spat venomously.
"He did." Volker reaffirmed. "He slept in the den with me. He did not want to return to the house. I took him in my arms and kept him warm."
"If...you are saying you molested that boy.." Elda's tone was dark. "..I will geld you right here, right now."
 
Ellis had followed after Trahaearn and Joseph. She nodded. It made sense, as he'd expressed a great deal of reservation at the warlock riding. It was reckless in this season, but Shuck also knew his brother too well to put it past any member of this family to be so brash.

His reply regarding Booker was met with doubt, and when he clarified raised hostility. Shuck pushed herself up onto her elbow to better see Phoebe and Elda.

"He only said he slept with him," Shuck repeated, frowning with her cheeks flushing red at Elsa's suggestion. She looked from mother to warlock with a measure of confusion and concern. "You only held him while you both slept? Or did you...?"

Gods, if he had, Shuck wasn't going to be able to save him.

// Volker //
 
Volker stood up. He did not like the way this conversation was going. Phoebe picked up the knife reflexively. The second it was in her hand Volker acted. He drew and threw so quickly if Shuck blinked she would have missed it. The blade, small, hilted in a human carpal, buried itself in the wall next to Phoebe. She dropped her knife with a loud clatter and a scream of surprise, looking at the quivering the blade stuck in the wood. She stared at Volker, wide-eyed and terrified, and fled down the hallway. Elda was just as tense. She didn't dare pick up a weapon but she glared daggers at Volker.

"The boy came to me peacefully. He was not threatening and made no threatening moves. I had no reason to kill him." he told Elda.
"I suppose foals are some of the most threatening animals in the world then. You have no problem butchering the innocent, so don't pretend like you do." Elda said viciously.
"I do not." Volker agreed simply. She was telling the truth and so was he.

'I've had enough. Get out of this house or by the gods I swear you'll be leaving it without a head." Elda growled.
"You are a decent hedge witch. But I am stronger than you are, and you have no benefactor." Volker pointed out.
 
The conversation was quickly spiraling out of control. Volker stood, clearly uncomfortable or upset, and before she could speak again, Phoebe picked up the knife beside her. He was fast, throwing a knife that buried itself in the wall beside the ginger woman. She screamed and fled, but Elda stood her ground. They clashed verbally, and Shuck gaped at both of them.

"Volker, sit down," she said sternly, having already pushed herself into a sitting position. Her read was ringing and all the color had drained from her face. She felt exhausted and her body was protesting. She turned to Elda next.

"I know you are upset. I know Volker and Oor have caused this family a great deal of grief and suffering. But if you're not going to blame me for dragging them here in the first place, then you are not going to blame a man for being raised by that shade bastard," she snapped.

She swayed gently, breathing hard from mustering even this much spirit, but steadied herself.

"I respect that this is your home and that I am a guest, but I am trying to make sense of what happened and I have a deal to keep. He's mine now, and I am accountable for his actions. If you don't want to listen to what he has to say, then shut the door. But if he goes outside, then so do I." She was shaking, holding herself upright to hold Elda's gaze.

If the woman expelled her from this house, she would be forced by the laws that governed fae immediately. There would be no arguing, no resisting, no nothing. And Elda knew that. Shuck was forcing her into a tight spot, chosing between her unborn grandchild and the man who had savaged her family and property, but she didn't have the time, energy, or faculties to dance around this many sensibilities at once.

// Volker //
 
Volker didn't like it, but he knew a command when he heard one. He settled back down on the floor, his eyes on Elda. The matriarch of the household was clearly having a hard time with the prospect of him being in the house. She looked at Shuck. "If he harms one hair on anyone's head...he's sleeping in the barn. And if he approaches the attic I can't be responsible for what I might do to him." she told her coldly, and went to go see to Booker. He'd been brought back to his room in the attic, and despite the inconvenient location she knew it would be the best thing for him. He didn't like being in the other rooms, even when he was sick. Elda needed some quiet time alone with him, to check on his bandages. Booker would have an alarmingly huge scar down his entire side, not even taking into account the missing leg. What was she going to do? She already had one son with health concerns. Now she had two. Booker would need a doctor, a real doctor, in Alliria to make sure that stump healed right.

Gerard came into the room, shaking his head. "Listen, let's get you in a bed. Not gonna help your back sleeping on a floor." he told Shuck. Volker immediately fixed him with a look and bared his teeth. He did not like people being behind him. His benefactor was one thing. A man who could match him in physical strength was another. He was giving clear warnings; hunching his shoulders, lowering his chin to protect his throat, and uttering low snarls that would have made the toughest war dog piss itself in terror.
Gerard scowled at him.
"You'd know if I was gonna hurt ya." he told the other man coldly, and moved to pick up Shuck.
The warnings grew louder and more obvious until Gerard touched her. The Meier brother was lucky he was gifted with quick movements from fighting, otherwise he might have lost a foot. One of Volker's larger knives was buried in the carpet exactly where Gerard's foot had been a second sooner.
"Fuck's sake." Gerard swore. "Right, I'm going to leave you sort this out. You do that again and I'll make your head fit up your arsehole." He stomped away in disgust, shaking his head.

Volker pulled the blade out of the floor, checked to make sure it wasn't damaged, and sheathed it. He hadn't moved from his commanded sitting position. He returned to looking into the fire, his demeanor calm.
 
Shuck loosed an obvious sigh of relief when Volker sat, part of her concern pacified. She inclined her head at Elda. "He'll not harm anyone and he'll not go near the attic." Her eyes moved to Volker's. She didn't like using commands against him, knew how much she would have hated to be forced to anything against her will, even in good intentions.

But Elda relented and she was left alone with Volker briefly before Gerard appeared. No doubt sent in by Phoebe, he stepped into the doorway as she had just eased herself back to the ground with a small, tired whimper. Volker was defensive, and she touched his knee in an attempt to calm him down, but he drew another knife when Gerard bent to pick her up.

"Volker." Her voice was a soft reprimand, and she laid her face on her hands for a while after Gerard left. She was quiet for a few moments, letting her aching head stop pounding before she looked up at Volker.

"We need to have a talk about being nice to this family." She sounded even more tired than she looked. "But first, could you please put me in the bed, if you're not going to let anyone else?" she asked. Her eyes dropped to the dried blood around his eyes, and she hesitated. "If you're not still hurting too much, could you at least help me?"

// Volker //
 
Volker shrugged his shoulders. "It is not my fault. I give proper warning." he said, as though that laid the conversation to rest. In his mind, as long as he warned people, if they chose to barrel through consequences it was no concern of his. He knelt and gathered her in his arms. He was used to flinging people over his shoulder, and picking her up gently with one arm around his knees and the other under her shoulders was surprisingly more difficult. He lifted her up with a loud grunt, and carried her into the nearest bedroom. He settled her in the bed and closed the door, sitting down in front of it.

The knife in the kitchen. He got up and headed out to retrieve it, washing his face while he was in there. He got some fresh water, and ate a little cold leftovers before he came back in the room and sat down in front of the door. He slept like that, curled up in front of the door protectively, until morning.

The first night they were both asleep was an odd one. Volker returned to the well, but Shuck had been pulled there as well. He looked over at her. He was asleep and resting, but he'd been trained to come here and review. He would have to tangle with Oor again, and he had to prepare for that eventuality. He was also tied to a mistress with no heart and no name. That made it more difficult. He resolved to ignore Shuck and do his work. She could do as she liked here in this strange dream. All he wanted to do was be alone with his own thoughts for a little while.
 
"That's not how--" Shuck bit back her argument, already feeling like her head was going to split in half. Shaking her head, she let it go. Laying her head into his shoulder and curling her arms against his chest, she was complacent to be carried. Aching, she laid into the pillows and closed her eyes. She was exhausted from doing nothing at all.

She was drifting toward sleep, but she heard the door open and she watched a bit defensively as Volker ventured back into the other rooms. Though she could hear him in the kitchen, she didn't yet trust the rest of the household not to do something brash. When he was returning, safe and sound and cleaner than he'd left her, she pushed herself up into the pillows to sit up slightly.

"Could you get my tea for me? I didn't get a chance to drink it earlier, and I have to have it." She waited patiently, accepted it with a nod, and let him carry on as he pleased. She drank her tea in relative silence, her eyes getting heavier.

"We'll have to talk tomorrow about our deal," she told him softly, reaching to set the cup aside. "For tonight, I need you to stay here and not do anything to provoke the family, okay? If anyone comes in to take care of me, please be patient. They're not going to hurt you or I. It's safe here."

She snuggled deep into her bed, pulling her blankets up over her shoulders and watching him briefly before her eyes drifted shut. Tomorrow. She could worry about all of this tomorrow.

She quickly fell asleep, drifting thoughtlessly and dreamlessly for a time, until there was a peculiar tug and she found herself tipping suddenly through the darkness, aware that she was falling until she landed in Volker's mirror place. Reeling slightly, Shuck put her hand to her head. Or her mind did? She wasn't entirely sure where this was yet, or why she was there in that moment.

Volker was there as well. He seemed disinterested in her as she got to her feet. Even here she was very tired, though the lack of a corporeal body to limit her allowed her to stand and wander closer. Shuck looked up into the various shards, walking up to one and reaching up to gently draw it down but careful not to be pulled into it.

"What is this place?" she asked. She already knew the answer. Sort of. She wasn't entirely sure she trusted Oor word on it entirely.

// Volker //
 
It seemed he wasn't getting peace here after all. Volker released the shard he'd been looking at, letting it drift up with the others. "It is where Oor stored my memories. It is a long, deep and powerful curse. A gift he recieved from the Queen of the Court, a long time ago. Before myself, or most of my ancestors. It....allows him to keep memories of a man after he has passed on, so long as Oor can inhabit him." Volker explained to her. "My memories are all here. So are the memories of my father, and his father before him, and he before him. All the way back to the beginning. You've broken that chain now."

"They are sorted, like a library, and there are different rooms that you can access, but I cannot. I am restricted to the well, but I know Oor kept an office here." Volker told her. He eyed a small golden shard of glass, and gingerly plucked it down, offering it to her. Unlike the others it didn't show fragments of memory. It was a key. When she took it, another door would appear on one side of the well, opening to invite her into an office.

The office was a strange place. Oor's breeding plans were there in detail, as well as Volker's pedigree, his plans to infuse magic into the line, and his own plots for ascending up the court structure with it. Past details of jobs they'd completed were on a bookshelf, all elegantly contained in glass shards. Oor hid some memories from Volker. Sometimes his hosts had figured out ways past Oor's power. Those memories had been plucked from the well, and carefully arranged into these slotted bookshelves. Oor had kept track of everything. Volker's height, weight, sexual interests, skills with a blade. Everything. Every health problem the man had ever suffered was in a tome marked 'Health'. It was strange to categorize Volker like this, but if she opened up one of the books she'd see details constantly being scribbled by an invisible pen. 'Currently experiencing hunger', and the date, was the latest entry. Volker could hide nothing from her.

There were six books. 'Education', which detailed people and things Volker learned about. 'Sex', which had anything he'd ever done in that area, 'Health', 'Kills', 'Mental Status', and 'Court'. This room was for her alone. Volker couldn't even look into it. Whenever the door appeared and he tried to look directly at it....it slithered out of his vision.
 
Releasing whatever he was looking at, he explained that this was indeed stored memories, but not just his own. Shuck looked up into the expanse with a small sense of wonder at the sheer size of the collection, each deemed meaningful in some way. How many generations of men had he cultivated?

The thought made her stomach turn. Cultivated. It seemed cold, apathetic, and cruel. She looked back at Volker, giving his succinct, factual reply with no emotion in his voice whatsoever. His face didn't change as he retrieved a golden shard and handed it to her. Taking it, she turned it over in her hand, she saw the doorway open out of the corner of her eye. An office?

Shuck hesitated to approach it, but carefully stepped inside. It was all very orderly, with a large shelf labeled of labeled books and stored shards. Drifting closer, she peered at the shards but didn't dare touch them without knowing what they might be. She caught glimpses of Oor and Volker's predecessors in a few, and turned away, unsure she was ready to look at them just yet. Instead, she turned to the books. Health, Education, Sex, Kills, Mental Status, and Court.

Frowning, she dared to reach out and select one that seemed safest -- Health. Flipping through it, she quickly began to understand the tome's purpose. A meticulous record of Volker's entire life, detailed entries on everything from minor ailments to grievous wounds. She flipped and flipped, her eyes catching only occasional words until she came to one that was mostly blank. Mostly, because a few words were forming, detailing his present condition. Before it could finish, Shuck slammed it shut and shoved it back onto the shelf, eyeing the other tomes with her brow drawn.

There was all manner of records and plans strewn about on a great desk, and Shuck gently pushed a few aside to read those beneath. She swallowed hard, and when she could stomach no more, she turned back and stepped out of the office, but didn't let go of the key shard.

His whole life was here. He'd not had a moment of privacy since his boyhood, and it rankled her deeply. No wonder he was so... different. Shuck refused to call him broken. Misdirected and misshapen, perhaps, but even those evaluations seemed unfair to the man who had clearly had never had a say in his life until he shook her had days prior.

"Do... Do you want to keep all of this?" she asked, sadness lacing her voice but also pressing down on her shoulders. Shuck turned to Volker earnestly. "I'll not be a mistress as Oor was to you. You wanted to escape that, and I have no intention of making you do anything you do not truly wish to do. I want to know what would make you happy. I want you to be free."

// Volker //
 
Volker was reviewing a memory he did every night. He'd made several honest attempts to learn how to read and do maths, but Oor had told him the only maths he'd needed was enough to figure out if they were being cheated or not. The memory making a wide, bright hole in the darkness of the well were...letters. It was a memory of a book being on his lap, his brow furrowed in concentration, and trying to make the words mean something. It was something he'd stolen from a house they'd been ordered to destroy. It was a child's book, something simple. The memory always got halfway through the alphabet before Oor snatched the book up with a snarl. 'The fuck are you doing? This shit is useless to you.' Oor snapped at him, and threw it into their campfire. By the time Volker had gingerly scraped it out with a stick...the book was ruined. Volker sighed, picked up the memory, and looked at Shuck when she came out of the office.

"All of what?" he asked. He had suspected that Oor kept details of him in the office...but he couldn't see it. He didn't know about the tomes, or the memories hidden from him. He could only hear the pity in her voice. "I did not take your hand to be pitied." he told her coldly, flinging the memory up into the well. "None of this structure can be destroyed. None of it. Run in any direction. You'll find yourself back here. Set fire to the office. You'll give me a headache and it will be back within the hour. This is strong magic. Use it."
 
"I'm not--" Her mouth burned, and she bit down on her tongue angrily. Great. Shuck took a deep breath.

She didn't know how to express what she was feeling. One part of her felt prompted to argue, another resigned to let it go. She didn't know what to do, and she was floundering. What had she done? Volker wasn't a thing that needed fixed, but she couldn't very well have him starting fights with everyone on the house when things were already tense. He was wild and unrefined, more so than even she had been.

"So it can't be destroyed. I'll use it when I'm not dying." She waved her hand at the collection. Because she was dying. Quickly, without her heart.

"But I'm still asking what you want. You wanted something when you shook my hand. Was it just to rid yourself of Oor's leash for a new one? You don't want my pity, fine. But you wanted my help."

// Volker //
 
Volker snorted. "This is not exchanging one leash for another. You do not have the same lust for power. You do not want to throw the queen off of her throne and take over the court." he said. "I have already gained freedom, just by the pressure of his presence being gone. I did want your help. I have gotten it." He stood in front of her, looking at her with a stern expression. "I have been in the service of fae since before I could speak properly. If you expect to turn me loose, and throw away over a quarter millenia of work and servitude for what? I have nothing, Malice. Your freedom means less to me than the leash."

He shook his head. "I do not know what I want. That is a question no one, and I mean no one, has asked me in two hundred and fifty years. So forgive me if I need more than a moment to answer it." He strode a few feet away from her and sat down, summoning down a shard and flinging it into the black. The alphabet memory came up again, and he did his best to concentrate on it. He didn't quite care that Malice was here. This was his own private place in his own head, where no one could bother him. Or so he used to think.

Morning came, with hustle and bustle. Volker woke up with a start, before remembering where he was. He didn't like all of this...this movement. He could hear a dozen people in the house all moving around. Whether it was the old woman taking food and medication to the boy upstairs, or the children playing blithely, or the others making preparations for the morning meal. It was too damn loud. To a man who had been on his own since childhood, and had known little else of waking but birdsong and wind, it was deafening.

He snorted in discomfort. He didn't like it. It was too busy. He got up and opened the door to her room. He grabbed a pack of firelighters from next to the hearth and headed out of the front door without a word. Elda watched him balefully, and locked the door after him. The atmosphere in the house relaxed with Volker gone, and Volker was just as relaxed outside. He headed up into the treeline, gathered wood, and built a fire. He began working on a lean-to. The places around here had pine boughs that would make a soft bed and a sturdy roof, and he could always find and warm up frozen moss to pad it with.

Elda brought in Shuck's morning tea, sitting next to her and patting her hand gently. "Wake up dear. Gerard made waffles...would you like some?" she asked quietly. "I don't think you should be up and about but we can move you to the couch if you get lonely."
 
Shuck listened, her frown deepening and her jaw setting. She said nothing and bit back the urge to argue with him, and when he finished, she certainly didn't feel better about the arrangement.

As he turned away and sat, Shuck simply watched him. Time. She knew that he needed time, but she didn't know if she had enough. Being here, arguing with him, trying to understand it all... Even here she was exhausted and her head ached.

With his back to her, Shuck threw the key shard into the darkness, needing an outlet for her overwhelming urge to shake him and hug him and yell at him all at once. It disappeared into the darkness, only to reappear overhead.

Patience; she just needed to be patient. So long as the family didn't provoke Volker and he didn't do anything to startle them, she could keep the peace between them until Joseph returned. He and Trahaearn were bringing her heart back to her. By now, they should have found it and would be turning back with all haste to return it to her. With a heart, she would have the time to let Volker decide.

For now, however, she needed rest. Shuck walked in circles, aimlessly looking for an sign of what had brought her to this place. After a while, she resigned herself and (with a quiet reluctance) asked Volker how. She was the mistress of this place; all she had to do was will a staircase and ascend. Shuck had stared at nothing for a few tense moments before the stairs manifested, and she began a long, spiraling march upward.

Her eyes grew heavy and her legs lost their feeling. The stairs themselves faded until she marched up nothingness, and soon she wasn't marching at all, simply lying wrapped up in the darkness.

Elda's voice and a gentle hand pulled her from her slumber. Her eyes opened slowly, and she was even slower to sit up and accept the tea. She looked around for Volker, and seeing that he was gone she sleepily reached for the mental threads in her mind. One was silver and the other gold. She knew without testing them which was which, and she gently touched her awareness to the silver.

It was like seeing a scene from a bird's eye view but rather than seeing a scene, she felt him there. It was strange and she withdrew, knowing that (at the very least) he was alive and occupying himself.

Shuck shook her head. "I'm not really hungry this morning," she replied, and she want lying. Her stomach was knotted and the mere notion of eating nearly made her nauseous.

"But the couch would be nice." A small smile curled on her full lips. Some normalcy would be nice. She'd not really smiled since the day before Joseph had left, and even if the common room would be noisy between all of the adults and children, it would be better than laying in bed alone with her thoughts.

Carried to the couch by Gerard (as always) and buried in blankets and furs, she was still a bit chilly as she settled in. The scent of food from the kitcen threatened to gag her, so she focused instead on the kids.

Watching them, she was filled with a small sense of peace. She would have something similar to this soon. Her hand slid down to her belly, trying to remember if she had felt it wiggling any time recently. They would be a family soon. So very soon. As if stirred by their mother's warm thoughts, the babe stretched.

She sat in silence, sipping her tea and obviously content to watch a scuffle unfolding in front of her. Though she couldn't remember which child was who, she could easily differentiate between Holden's and Gerard's. She watched them playing with a fondness that was not unfamiliar, smiling softly over her tea.

Children were her favorite, and watching them in Hythe had always eased her loneliness. Even now, when her head threatened to split open and she yearned for Joseph in a hundred different ways, a gentle grin formed on her lips.

// Volker //
 
Volker felt better by himself. The next goal was to satisfy a hunting need. There wasnt much game in the woods, but men still tried to hunt, and a man could feed Volker for a week. He knew which ones he wasn’t allowed, seeing the Meier family, and since they were all inside he felt safe heading into the woods to hunt. It was peaceful this way, slowly picking through the snow on the balls of his feet like a cat.

He found the pair in midmorning. A farmer teaching his son to hunt. The boy was maybe fifteen, nervously clutching a bow and lagging behind his father. He was so focused on not missing a rabbit or deer that he didn’t hear Volker behind him. Volker sank his teeth into the back of the teenagers neck and wrenched him off his feet. He grabbed the struggling boy by the throat, shifting his grip and cutting off his air. The father turned, stared in horror, and bolted.

Toward the Meier farm.
Volker snorted and shook his prey when the boy clawed at his mouth. The struggles became weaker and weaker until they stopped altogether, and his prey went limp. Not dead, but merely passed out from lack of air. Volker slung him over his back, and headed back to camp. He wanted to take out his frustration with his new mistress slowly.

Inside the Meier household, breakfast was finally relaxed. Everyone was chowing down on warm, fluffy golden waffles drenched in butter and canned strawberries. The younger children seemed to consider their mouths a loose target, getting themselves (and most of the furniture) sticky. The children hurried over to Shuck, insisting she try one of their golden creations. Apparently, mixing maple syrup and strawberries was a fantastic idea they needed a guinea pig for.

“Oh let her be you little demons.” Alice said playfully, stealing the train wreck on a plate before they could attempt to shove waffles down the throat of an invalid. Phoebe came and sat next to Shuck, sighing.
“I know you’ve got good reasons for taking that man in. I don’t much understand magic. I come from the city. So...if you’ll forgive me? For my attitude earlier?” She asked Shuck quietly. “...what was he? Possessed by some horrible thing that made him do all that?”

There was a pounding at the door. Elda stood up to open it and blinked when one of their neighbors stumbled through the door. “For the gods’ sake man, my carpet!” She admonished him, but her anger died in her throat when she saw his face.
“Alright Derek. What happened?”
Another figure came through the door and embraced Elda, speaking before the stricken man.
“Says some fae came out of the woods and dragged his boy away. Got him by the throat like a cougar. I told him to wait until I’d set up the damn mount but...hell.” Lester Meier chuckled.

The last Meier brother looked like a bridge between the skinny figures of Joseph, Booker and Ellis and the gigantic muscleheads. He was perfectly proportioned and clearly no stranger to hard work. His hands were calloused, his skin tanned even in the winter, and unlike the others he had tattoos of a wild and exotic nature spiraling around his throat and hands. Necklaces of crystal and gold hung around his throat, and his clothing was more suited to a desert trader than the winter.

“Sorry I’m late. Ship was delayed.” Lester apologized to her, and was immediately mobbed by children with waffles. He took it in stride, grabbing one of the little ones in his arms and taking a bite of waffle.

Elda frowned at the stricken farmer and guided him over to the hearth. “What happened?” She asked quietly.
“Came outta nowhere, marm. Looked like an old man...cept he grabbed my boy by the neck! We have to go find him. Please!” Derek was shaking, in anger and terror.
Elda pursed her lips. “Listen. Go get some coffee and warm up. I’ll get Gerard to come help you.” She said softly.
“No marm, I need the Father. Was something evil in those woods. He’s the only one who knows how to cleanse fae.” Derek insisted.
Elda sighed. “Go on. We need a few minutes to get ready.” She pushed him toward the kitchen and looked at Shuck.

“Reach though the bond. Is it your pet who has done this?” She asked.
 
The family's breakfast might have normally been something she'd have found great interest and pleasure in. As it were, the sickeningly sweet scent of the strawberries and syrup cloyed her senses. She smiled in good nature as the children delighted in the meal, finding their joy made it far easier to ignore the urge to vomit. They turned to her as a collective, and she had a moment's surprise as she lowered her tea before they rushed over to her, a plate raised toward her. One offered a fork with a hunk of the golden honeycomb-like bread to her. A slice of strawberry was impaled on the tines of the fork as well, and both waffle and fruit were dripping with syrup.

It was very hard to keep a strained smile as she raised a thin hand to gently push the food away. "While I appreciate the offer, I'm afraid I'm not feeling well this morning," she apologized. She might have normally participated in their sweet indulgences, and her body twisted with guilt when their eager smiles sank. Shuck panicked, unable to bear their sudden sadness, and was opening her mouth to take it back when Alice herded them away.

Still feeling a bit guilty, she sighed into her tea when Phoebe sat beside her. She lowered her cup into her lap and shook her head.

"Don't apologize. I understand why you all dislike him. We don't have a very good history with him, either." Frowning deeply, she stared off for a moment as she recalled the image of Joseph tethered in the snow, blue and freezing. It sent a chill up her person. Distancing herself from the things Voker had done would not be an easy task, but one that was necessary if she were to help correct what Oor had done to him.

"Possessed is a good word for it, I suppose. But he's a man like any of the rest of you," she explained. "The same dark spirit who possessed him also raised him from childhood, so he's a bit... misguided. I took over his contract to free him from the other fae, so he's mine now. Like Trahaearn."

Her explanation was horribly simple and didn't even begin to cover the complexities of Oor's control over Volker or how they were now connected. But those weren't things she really wanted to divulge to Joseph's well-meaning family. It wasn't necessarily something she wanted to divulge to Joseph.

Someone began beating on the door, and Shuck jumped. She watched as Elda opened it and a stranger stumbled in, trailing in mud and snow. But her eyes only briefly lingered on the man, because another entered after him.

It was like a powerful updraft, her whole body lifted and light as she saw his face. She drew in a breath, her silver eyes bright and a smile stretching across her whole countenance. Joseph! He was back, but he was back so soon! How...?

But then she saw him -- really saw the man who stepped up and hugged Elda, and that joy withered and died. Not Joseph. Every bit of that excitement came crashing back to her, dropped like a stack of china onto the floor. It wasn't Joseph, but obviously a brother. She looked down into her nearly empty teacup. It must have been Lester, the sixth and final brother she'd yet to meet. She'd not been prepared for how similar he would be to his youngest brother. Though he was built somewhere between Holden and Ellis, his face and his voice were painfully similar to Joseph's.

She was so shaken by her mistake that she only half-heard what was being said. When she finally caught on, she looked between the farmer and Elda. Dread coiled around her stomach, constricting it further, and her hand shook as she set aside her cup.

Turning inside her mind, she reached for that silver thread. She imagined a doorway, sprinting through it and coming to a skidding stop in the mirror place. She was completely alone. Holding up her hand, the golden shard came to her palm and the door to the hidden office opened. She scanned the walls, the desk, the shelf -- anything that could help her find Volker.

Grabbing the tome labeled Kills, she threw it atop the desk and flipped through the pages to the most recent entry. It wasn't dated for today and the previous entries were noted as horses, so she shoved it aside and pulled down Mental Status. She hastily glanced through the last page of entries: Discomfort, frustration, conflict. A tremor ran up her arms and she didn't bother to shut the book before she turned back and ran into the mirror hall.

How was she supposed to use this place? Shuck ran a hand through her hair and beat the heel of her palm against her forehead. What had Volker said? How had she seen Oor using it?

She was the mistress of this place. She commanded it. Reaching up, she willed Volker's most recent memories into her hand. A shard descended, and she didn't wait for it to reach her completely before she hopped up and yanked it down. Peering into it, she saw the scene through Volker's eyes. The stranger and a teenage boy, hunting; the boy, shaken and unconscious; the man running and Volker slinging the boy over his shoulder.

Shuck was fae, and unseelie at that. Before Joseph, before he'd introduced her to a slew of humans who she deemed precious and valid, their lives were inconsequential. Life and death came and went, and any mercies or cruelties that befell them on that short journey was doled out by a greater neutral force. Some suffered, some flourished; it was the balance at the core of the world.

But seeing the boy being disassembled in the way she'd seen Volker portion out the man in his camp shook something strange and distant inside of her. Fae weren't supposed to form strong bonds with humanity; it skewed their ability to maintain the balance of light and dark, good and evil. It upset something within them that, once bent, couldn't be repaired to its former shape. And she wasn't sure when that thing in her had been so misshapen, but she found that she couldn't handle what she saw. She threw the shard away from her and backed away, breathing carefully through her nose and willing a door to take her out of the well.

Snapped back into her own mind, she reached out for that silver strand once more.

"Volker!" she said down that connection. It vibrated in her hand, and she squeezed and pulled. "Volker, stop."

// Volker //
 
Volker was frustrated. She had offered him freedom, and when he had hesitated or asked for time, she had gotten angry with him. Like he was supposed to skip away happily because she'd taken a huge strain off of his shoulders. Even Oor had known he didn't work like that. Volker needed to work. He needed to be useful. He had been used as a tool his entire life, and had lived longer than most human men. He didn't know what to do with himself, or what he was supposed to do now. With Oor there was always a goal, always a contract. Always somewhere to be and something to do to prepare for it. Volker felt like he was drifting now, and it was frustrating.

He was working slowly on the boy. He'd removed his hands and feet, and tourniquetted him so he wouldn't bleed out. He was removing the finger bones, and setting them on stones next to the fire to dry. The few muscles there would be tough, but he could add them to a stew. The skin of the hands was completely useless, and buried. He had found some mushrooms and roots, and was working on a broth. He took off the boy's arm at the elbow next, prompting a fresh peal of screaming as he tourniquetted him again. The skin he scraped, stretched out, and mounted on a frame. He needed more oilcloth if he was going to be doing anymore travelling or surviving out here...but he didn't know where he was going, what he was doing, or even if he'd ever see his rooms at court again.

He chopped up the arm flesh and added it to the stew, laying both forearm bones aside. He'd break them properly, and use the narrow fluted structures for what he was going to do next. He'd been able to start on making and weaving sinew, which was laying over hastily-made racks next to the fire to toughen, and with the square of arm skin he was making a wineskin. He had so many supplies he needed to remake. His leanto would work well, but he had no idea how long he would be there.

The voice in his head was strange, but the command was clear. He set down his knife and sat down in the small clearing he'd made. She wanted him to stop, fine. The boy was alive, he wouldn't be in danger of rotting or decomposing...that was the entire point to keeping him alive. He sighed.

'Yes?' he questioned.
 
He sounded so calm, so neutral. Shuck could have screamed with frustration but reined in the feeling. Volker was Oor's creation, not a normal man. She had to be more patient, more understanding. But that was hard when she knew the boy's father was standing in the same room as her body, waiting for her to come up from this trance and answer Elda's question.

"What are you doing?" she asked down the line. Her tone was as calm as she could will it to be. "Is the boy still alive, at least?"

She should have been more patient the night before. She should have tried harder to lay down some rules on his behavior instead of turning him loose. What had she been thinking? That he'd wander off and be just fine? She was so stupid. He couldn't any more help his upbringing than she could help that her name was taken from her.

// Volker //
 
Volker picked up a stick he'd carved and stirred the stew. Late carrots and a few herbs, along with onions attempting to winter over would be a decent meal, and he wasn't going to let it burn and go to waste. That was a lot of work in that pot. He absent mindedly turned the finger bones over on the stones to help them dry a little faster. What was he doing? That was a complicated question and yet all too simple.

'Staying busy.' he said. 'Doing what is necessary. I have no supplies and I cannot stay in the house.' It was perfectly logical to him. He needed furs for the lean-to, he needed meat in his belly, he needed tools that bone and wood were the best for. He picked up one of the smaller finger bones and began to carve, shaving off dry bone to make fish hooks. The marrow inside he sucked out raw. He glanced at the boy with her next question. 'Yes.' he answered. He was staying busy with the small parts. When he was to the point where he needed more sinew, and grew hungry for the fat thigh meat on the boy's legs, he'd kill him. There was a lot of work to be done yet, and he wagered Shuck would need more blood.

'Leave a bottle out on the steps, and I will save his blood for you.' he told her. 'I have no use for it without proper cooking tools.'
 
His pragmatic reply made her stomach turn, but at least the boy was alive. His request to leave a bottle on the porch might have been kind if not in this current circumstance.

"Volker, you can't kill people," she said slowly. "Not like this -- not anymore." She took a deep breath, calming herself before her ire rose any further. "His father is here and I can't lie to the family. Just..."

Just what? Shuck's head split in two from both pain and conflict. She'd seen damn well what he'd done to the boy -- killing him would be a mercy than to let him live with those memories and severe loss of limb. But life was life, regardless of how it came. Still...

"You can hunt wild game, but no more people. This boy is the last one." Gods, Joseph was never going to forgive her. She simply added it to the growing pile of things she'd never could and never would tell him.

"They're going to come looking for you, and I can't stop them. I need you to go away for a while. Not far, but far enough that they can't catch you. Steal one of the horses you've set loose if you must, but you can't stay on the property any longer. Joseph will be back with my heart in a week, and after the baby comes I'll find you again. Find somewhere safe to winter, keep your head low, and take care of yourself."

Her hands were shaking, and she felt the burn of tears in her eyes. That irrational need to be close to him was aching, and telling him to go was causing her a great deal of distress, but he couldn't come back to the house. At least, not any time soon.

"Steal from barns, take livestock where you can, raid cellars -- I don't care. But please, I only ask that you not kill anyone else unless it is absolutely necessary."

// Volker //
 
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