for jollyboat: anywhere you go

[whisted]

He doesn't quite fit.

Horatio had known, of course, that he wouldn't. Even if he had managed to make his way onto a ship years ago, everyone would have known he was odd. Perhaps it's for the best that he's clearly just a bit skittish, just a bit uncertain of himself unlike the other young men his age. Perhaps that would distract the human mind from looking to see just why, exactly, this one didn't seem to be quite entirely right.

It was, nonetheless, one thing to know and another thing to live. Being bundled in heavy unfamiliar fabric is surprisingly uncomfortable. The uniform is far more restrictive than the clothing he had forced himself to become accustomed to while hovering around the port. The sensation of being on a boat, despite the familiarity of the sea, is throwing his stomach through something of a loop. He can't shift and change direction. He can't twist along with the waves, comfortable and easy, or cut through below the discomfort of breakers tugging in the wrong direction. It's unnatural, here on a warped version of the surface. It's twisting something uncomfortable in his shoulders, almost dizzying as he tries to find his feet under him.

This is what he wanted, and it doesn't quite fit.

For the most part, feeling his skin in the sack slung over his shoulders is reassuring. His fingers can worry against the familiar softness with each odd rush of discomfort. This, after all, is the back-up plan. This is the fail-safe if everything falls completely to pieces and he needs to throw himself simply back into the sea. This is the piece of himself which will always fit properly, no matter where he is.

That's why it's resting at the top of his sack as he scrambles up properly into the ship. That's why, in the bluster of humanity, the young selkie doesn't notice that his skin has spilled out onto the deck.

Comments

[jollyboat]

The new midshipman is a strange one.

Archie can't quite put his finger on the why, but the new midshipman catches his eye. It's clear he's just a little nervous, and perhaps that's what Archie is figuring is wrong. He knows nervous, after all. He very much wants to be able to help with nervous.

So it's easy enough to swoop in and catch at the coat that falls from the sack. It's easy enough to follow after the skittish young man, tapping briefly at his elbow.

"Excuse me-- Hornblower, isn't it? You've dropped your coat."

[whisted]

Whatever the ship has been doing to his stomach, turning completely bottoms his heart out.

This, after all, is the constant fear of walking on two legs. This is the instant horror of recognizing one's own skin gripped in the hands of a stranger. This sends a terrified rush through Horatio's entire being, almost physically painful, that someone else has such control over him.

Except that his skin isn't disappearing. His skin isn't being flaunted before it's tucked away. His skin isn't being rushed off with, hidden away, kept from him. It's being offered.

And Horatio isn't certain what to make of that, utter confusion widening his eyes as he takes a beat to work his way around the reality he's being handed back his skin.

babbling boy

[jollyboat]

That confusion is-- well-- confusing. Archie can't help the way he tilts his head just slightly.

"Sorry-- It is yours, isn't it? It was just behind you, and everyone else has their dunnage below, and I doubt any of the- - women aboard own this, it's far too heavy."

Maybe he's wrong, but he can't figure out who else's it might be.

"Warm, too. If it isn't yours, would you mind pointing out who else just got onboard? Perhaps it's one of theirs. I hate for someone to lose something so nice as this."

protect this child

[whisted]

It is warm. It is nice. It is entirely odd to have this piece of his soul gently complimented and offered up without protest or demand.

"--it's-- mine."

He doesn't mean to snatch at the skin, with the young man offering it so earnestly, but he doesn't quite manage. Horatio needs a heartbeat to simply hold his skin, after all, to feel its weight in his hands again, almost cwtched in against himself until the return is real.

Then it can be shoved properly deep into his sack, attention stuck back on the man who had handed him back to himself. "--thank you."

he is a GOOD SON who deserves GOOD THINGS

[jollyboat]

Whoop. That's a bit jarring. He can't help the startled blink at the suddenness of the motion, but manages not to freeze entirely.

In any event, the other young man doesn't seem to notice.

"Of course. I'm glad you didn't lose it." A smile, "It must be very special, for you to bring it onboard even if you likely won't be able to use it much. Was it a gift?"

idk if this one is a good thing but Archie can has

[whisted]

This gentleness is so strange. The sea isn't gentle, but men seem almost always to be harsher even than that.

His fingers--still faintly fumbling things despite the time he's been taking to practice--pluck absently at the edge of the rough burlap now hiding his skin.

"...my-- mother." It isn't completely a lie--and it might make this oddity of a man linger a little longer. "A long time ago."

; ;

[jollyboat]

"Oh!" He can't help but brighten at that, "Really rather important then, and that's a much better reason than some of what I've brought from home. At least yours might be helpful to have on shore leave, if nothing else. Most of my non-essentials aren't exactly what people would define as 'useful."

But he loves them, all the same.

hey gurl i heard u were craving some selkies

[jollyboat]

They’d actually been given a long enough leave for him to go home to Scotland. Horatio had actually agreed to come with him for a little while. Archie is absolutely over the moon for the fact that it’s an opportunity they get to have.

So there’s a hopeful sort of smile on his face as he turns to Horatio early one morning.

“‘nna go— swimming?”

/happy yells forever

[whisted]

Scotland tastes different. The Atlantic and the North Sea smell the same when he lifts his head toward the wind, but the air over the land simply tastes different as they vanish into the lands where Archie was raised.

Perhaps it's that distraction that has the selkie blinking at the question. Surely Archie knows that, after long stretches with legs and collars and hiding his skin, the best thing in the world is always a long swim. Surely he isn't asking about a need.

"...just us?"

It must be about the strange step they haven't taken. It must be the odd intimacy of the fact Archie actually wanted to see him as himself.

/blows kiss

[jollyboat]

The slight confusion in Horatio's expression has Archie blushing just slightly. The nod is more instinctive than anything else-- what's more genuinely meant are the words that escape his lips.

"I mean-- 'f you'd like. I can just show you th'way to the loch if you need some time alone, though."

But he'd like it to be together.

/blows kiss back through tears I already cannot with this

[whisted]

Even the nod brings a hair of contentment back into Horatio's features, but the words relax him entirely into his calm quiet again.

"I'd... like."

It would be new, and likely a bit strange--but then, kissing Archie had been as well, and that was one of the loveliest things Horatio knew now.

archie loves a lot and this is real cute :'>

[jollyboat]

That can't help but earn a grin from Archie.

"'m glad," he says, just in case it wasn't obvious, "Let me know if you-- change your mind, though, mm?"

It's important that Horatio feel like he has the space to.

he loves so much I can't???

[whisted]

The wrinkle of his nose is a very human gesture, one he'd picked up slowly on the ship from some of the younger midshipmen. It's just that it's such a strangely reassuring thing, every time Archie doubles down on the knowledge that neither of them is trying to claim or control.

Still slightly wrinkled, Horatio leans to bump his nose against the sailor's, a low rumbling noise in his throat as answer before he moves to carefully pull his skin out of his bag.

"Or if you change yours?"

You left me alone w/ the internet. Hell ship time.

[barderalready]

It’s not long into their time on the Renown that Sawyer’s true colours begin to reveal themselves. It’s got Archie’s nightmares starting to crop back up again, though he’s thankfully managed to avoid having a fit again so far.

Still, it’s something he feels like he needs to confirm with Horatio, just in case his mind is playing tricks on him.

They’re alone in the wardroom when he approaches the selkie. The nerves in him will be obvious only to Horatio.

“You— feel it, don’t you?” he asks lowly, “‘s not— safe here.”

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[midship]

It doesn't sit right. It isn't evil that lurks on the HMS Renown, not like the true vileness he had encountered on the HMS Justinian, but there's something that isn't right. More than anything, it reminds Horatio of the stories of sharks caught up in too strong a drift who arrive addled and over-starved in unfamiliar waters.

What's worst, of course, is the toll it seems to be taking on Archie.

There's a certain tired sharpness to his features now, after all these years splitting his time more in favor of ships than the proper sea. Now, alone in the wardroom with Archie clearly on tenterhooks, the old animal ferocity is back at the corners of his lips.

"Should we leave?"

at this point we’ll literally end up redoing all of canon as selkies

[barderalready]

“I want to,” he admits, nose nudging briefly against Horatio’s shoulder. They can’t risk much more affection than that, even though he wishes to.

“Just— don’t know if that’s the— right thing.”

It’d mean leaving behind this life entirely. More pressingly, it’d mean leaving behind the others to the Captain’s tender mercies.

He doesn’t know if he has it in him to do that.

¯ \ _ ( ツ ) _ / ¯

[midship]

The right thing, Horatio is infinitely certain, wouldn't be to leave the perfectly wonderful young men like Henry Wellard to the whims of this tyranny. It's just that the right thing also probably wouldn't be to whisper down to the surface of the sea until Sawyer met the same fate as Simpson.

"Won't get safer."

Most of it, of course, was from the unraveling of the captain's mind. Most of it was from the uncertainty that every day brought to a crew of generally good, hardworking men.

Some of it, however, came from Horatio.

it is, in fact, the opposite of a problem

[barderalready]

"I know," he sighs softly, entirely body briefly drooping with exhaustion.

"Just-- we need to be careful. No matter-- what we end up doing."

Leaving will take planning. Getting rid of Sawyer, if that's what needs to be done, may as well.

for real, starlord

[midship]

Selkies are born with a native caution. Their earliest stories, after all, are of the wolves of both land and sea--the cruel creatures of the world who will without a single thought snatch away their lives or, far worse, their freedom.

When, exactly, recklessness bled as much as it did into Horatio isn't entirely clear, but he sometimes pinpoints it back to the day Jack Simpson had tried to take Archie Kennedy away from him.

"...hm."

It's easy in theory to be careful. It's harder in practice, because the wild comes out when Archie's under threat.

welp

[meonmyway2stealurgirl]

He doesn't know where to go.

He's still bruised from Mariette's latest beating. He's exhausted from staying up so late to try and time it so he could sneak to steal the skin he's clenching to his chest now. He's shaking from feeling like he's actually whole, now-- that the pelt has helped to fill a gap he had known was there but didn't know what for.

He doesn't know where to go, exactly, but his feet are taking him towards the sea.

It's just that it's a rather crowded day on the beach. It's just that it's been some time since he's been out among this many people, and it's the first time he's been wandering with such precious cargo. It's just that he's convinced one of the swirling faces around him is going to be Mariette Reynolds, come to take him back to the prison he once called home.

It's just that he can't help being shoved into an older man walking by, and his skin is spilling out of his hands.

It's just that he can't help the absolutely terrified sound that escapes his lips, being separated from his soul again.

/this-is-fine intensifies

[midship]

This one is far too young to be here alone.

It's always surprised Horatio that humans didn't notice when selkies slipped among them like this. Each of his own kind seemed so utterly distinct, so strangely vibrant, so magnetic in a sea of human faces.

This one is like a flicker, weaving in and out between taller forms. This one can barely be more than a pup, although Horatio expects his estimations aren't quite as sharp as they used to be. This one must have been plucked from the waves, because no one would have allowed him to come this far into dangerous territory on his own.

It would be better to approach slowly. In a perfect world, there would be a chance to crouch down and call softly, to let the frightened thing move closer on his own time. But the world is far from perfect.

Horatio knows he's moving too quickly as he ducks to snatch the pelt up again. He knows he's still moving too quickly as he presses the half-unfolded skin back against the youngling's chest. It's just that it's impossibly important for the poor thing not to feel even more alone in this swirling mass--and impossibly important that no human fingers reach the fur first.

The sound in his throat comes in a low worried whine. He had meant to say something soothing, and the thoughts had simply defaulted to the affectionate sounds his own mother used to soothe him with while at sea.

too many feels. also consider them teaching him how to speak selkie ;;

[meonmyway2stealurgirl]

He's still shaking from the accidental separation when his skin is being pressed back into his arms. He curls it back up into his chest instantly, nearly nuzzling against the fur that is starting again to feel familiar. He glances up at the man meaning to stammer out an apology and a thank you-- and realizes upon looking up and hearing him that he isn't a man at all.

Elliot never got the chance to grow in his herd but he'd had, for as brief of a time as it was, Nadia. Elliot doesn't understand what the sound the selkie speaking to him just made means, but he remembers that it's supposed to be comforting.

He still can't keep himself from clinging tight to his skin. From being entirely nervous as he finds the words to respond because he doesn't know how to make the sounds instead.

"P-please don't-- tell."

Maybe he'll try to bring him back to Mariette. Maybe that's what his life is meant to be, on land.

He doesn't want it.

I am considering it through my own tears

[midship]

That's almost better. That's almost just an important lesson for a pup to learn, taught in the relative safety of an older selkie's attention.

But that shake in the voice isn't better. That repressed panic practically vibrating off the young one around the word 'tell' isn't better at all.

"...of course." Motion can be slower now. Horatio shifts his weight very gently to shield them both from the worst of the bustle around them, glancing down toward the shore. It's far too busy a day for the little one to be heading right for the water. "Come this way, hm?"

Herding isn't quite the same with legs and arms. Still, Horatio expects the instinct to maneuver the boy toward the crag without touching will ultimately come naturally enough.

i might sit here and weep all day tbh

[meonmyway2stealurgirl]

"O-okay."

He'll follow the gentle direction easily enough, even if he is still glancing nervously at the man. It's easier to trust him than Mariette, because a part of him recognizes his own kind-- Even if it's been years since last he saw one.

acceptable

[midship]

The skittishness isn't just a matter of youth. The longer he has the pup in the corner of his eye, the more Horatio is certain of it. The weight of too many years are clinging to this little slip of a frame.

That, more than anything, begs the soft question as they walk.

"How long since you were home?"