whisted | for jollyboat: anywhere you go

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

How fascinating, to learn of a man that wasn’t full of cruelty. To learn in such a gentle way how to hide his skin. It’s a lot to take in.

It will take time, to learn to trust all of it.

“You’ll... be there too?”

From:

midship

"If you want me to be." It's odd, having the passing thought that this little one probably hadn't grown up feeling safest in a pile of brothers and sisters. "Whatever helps you sleep."

It feels impossible that the best thing would be the silence of an empty home. It also feels impossible to know how long this little one had been kept from himself.

"Need to be rested for a long swim."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

“I don’t know how to— do any— of it.”

How to protect his skin. To make the change. To navigate the sea safely. To know who to trust here on land.

The other selkie had seen him panic and given him back his skin. Right now, he’s the safest being in the whole universe.

“I’d rather have— someone.”

From:

midship

The smile is tugged down slightly at the corners again, attention drifting to the pup. He's far too young to be out on his own--but far too old not to have been taught.

The lump in his throat keeps his voice soft, at least.

"Then I'll stay." And it wouldn't be such a difficult thing to explain to Archie, he suspects, why it might be a good afternoon for the man to talk a walk along the shore. "And you'll learn."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

“Okay.”

It’s an equally quiet response.

“Thank you, sir.”

Both Mariette and Thomas had insisted on the formality. It seems like a safe bet that the other man will expect the same.

From:

midship

It used to feel like a natural thing from men. It feels entirely wrong in this soft little voice that ought to be barking and yammering with abandon.

"...Horatio."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

Oh. That’s going to take some getting used to.

“—Thank you, Mister Horatio.”

There’s another beat as he shifts his skin delicately in his arms.

“‘m— Elliot.”

From:

midship

This smile isn't quite the same as the one that comes for Archie. Warmth still sneaks around the edges.

"Of course, Elliot."

The path toward the lighthouse is a rocky thing to navigate, so Horatio slows slightly. Besides, this one must need time simply breathing in the proper salty air.

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

He’ll have to follow very carefully. He’ll have to shift his skin around a few times to be able to balance appropriately.

He’ll have to marvel just a little at the way the sea smells from this close.

But the cautiousness of following does prompt another soft question, “How d’you keep it from falling when y’ve got it— hidden away like that?”

From:

midship

Ultimately, Elliot will manage, Horatio is certain. There's something so incredibly clear about the young one's gaze at the waves that he can't help but feel the truth settle in his chest.

He still feels the sea. She'll welcome him home again.

"...pocket. I'll show you."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

“‘ll right.”

And hopefully Horatio will forgive Ellio pausing briefly to look properly out into the sea.

“What’s it— like, out there?”

From:

midship

Of course Horatio doesn't mind. Elliot seems to have an eye for the good spots to study from.

"There's nothing like it." Nothing on land, certainly, to analogize to. "Even when it's... difficult and dangerous, you just... You're free."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

“Free.”

It’s a mournful sort of echo; full of longing.

“Dunno ‘f I— know what that’s like.”

From:

midship

"You will."

Horatio spares a glance back toward the town, then moves a hand close to Elliot's shoulder without actually touching. No need to frighten the pup when he's doing so well with what's clearly been a rough day.

"But first you'll eat. And sleep. Understand?"

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

“I really can’t— go in right away?”

His soul is aching. The desire to be in the water is very difficult to surpress.

Edited Date: 2018-10-05 10:58 pm (UTC)

From:

midship

There's a moment of consideration. There's a slight redirection of his feet, still heading toward the lighthouse but heading almost past it.

"Not all the way in."

But maybe it wouldn't be terrible to go wade into the water a little.

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

“Okay.”

But even the little bit that seems to be being offered is a godsend. Elliot can’t help the huff of utter relief that escapes his lips after being allowed this much.

From:

midship

"Get a good grip, hm?"

Holding the pelt was probably doing the young one good, but years of nerves couldn't be swept away easily.

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

[I was gonna say got her skin back but couldn't bring Elliot with her/couldn't come back but NOW YOU'VE GOT ME OVER HERE THINKING SHE DIED AFTER GETTING HER SKIN AND THAT'S JUST THE WORST.]

"All right."

Scrambling to shift the skin properly into his arms takes a moment, but it's worth it.

From:

midship

"Nice and easy. Good."

There's a relatively smooth patch along the edge of the bay's curve. Once they make the scramble down, Horatio ducks his head slightly and lowers his voice a hair further.

"Once it's dark, hm? We'll come back here."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

It's not entirely clear if it's the proximity to the water or the words that are the reason, but Elliot's shoulders relax all the same.

"Thank you, Mister Horatio."

So now that they're proper close to the water, he's going to kick off his shoes to at least get his feet in the water.

From:

midship

His breath comes nearly in a sigh, bending slightly as it escapes him. Elliot may not have been raised with his own kind, but even humans could usually pick up the quiet approval in the tones.

"You belong here."

It's really as simple as that.

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

"I want to."

He doesn't know if he believes it.

From:

midship

"You belong, Elliot."

Even if the pup couldn't quite understand the language of his kind. Even if this seemed to be the first time he had set foot in the ocean. Even if his skin was almost brand new to him now.

"This isn't something they can... take away. No matter what."

From:

meonmyway2stealurgirl

“I don’t even— know how to swim.”

It’s a tortured sort of whisper as he shuts his eyes, breathing in the salty air and taking in the feeling of the water around his feet.

“I wasn’t even— sure until I— met you, really. That any of it was— real.”

He might not entirely believe it until he’s properly changed, really.