Prompt - Something Lost, Something Found
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SONG OF THE SEA ( joshua, alecto ) A selkie far from home, searching for his coat. He meets a kind, lonely, young fisherman who tends the lighthouse near the sea. |
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SONG OF THE SEA ( joshua, alecto ) A selkie far from home, searching for his coat. He meets a kind, lonely, young fisherman who tends the lighthouse near the sea. |
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"My husband is dead."
The words hang in the air and he makes a delicate expression.
Then -
"And...I haven't been entirely honest with you," he confesses, a strange thrill in his voice that is difficult to shake: a singing compulsion, a whispered listen. "I'm...not who and what you think I am."
Alecto isn't sure what to do with his hands, traitorous things that they are, fingers flexing nervously. "Back then when we first saw each other at the market. You said you thought you knew me from somewhere else. As if we were already old friends. ...You were right." He searches Josh's face, knowing it won't bring him any answers or reprieve. But damned if he doesn't hope. "We've met long ago. When we were both very young. By the cliffs here, below us now. I was the white seal you came to visit every evening." A pause. "...well, I mean to say, I still am. This is just how I look ever since I lost my coat."
He waits for the dawn of recognition and realization to hit the man in front of him.
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"You were..." He sucks in a breath, staring at Alecto, thinking back all those years to his childhood, and again to that first sight of him again when he'd returned...
Perhaps it wasn't as far-fetched as he had thought. He can't imagine why Alecto would lie about such a thing, knowing how crazy it must sound. He can't imagine anyone else here knowing about that part of his childhood, how much he had loved seeing that seal, how close he had felt to actually befriending and understanding it, those quiet still moments when he'd been sitting on the rocks, practically frozen with excitement, hoping that his small movements wouldn't scare his friend away as it flopped over on its back just a few feet away, close enough for him to touch with his clumsy fingers smelling of fish and brine...
It takes him a moment to grasp all the implications. "But then - Nathaniel - ?" He's trying to catch up, his brain slow from lack of sleep, from the magnitude of this particular revelation. The town had been very clear on how much the man loved his wife, how protective, how good of a provider he - had been. Had.
There was too much going on here, too much that he had no way of fixing.
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"Nathaniel stole my coat, hid it away from me," he says, his hands clenching into small fists beside him, a pale fire in his gaze. "Without it I am just...a normal human man. With no one and no means here on the land. I had no choice but to marry him. And give him anything he desired." Alecto squeezes his eyes shut as if to block out the memory entirely. "He was a good husband in the end. Really. I could have been far more unfortunate."
He brings a hand up to clutch the opposite arm, holding himself in. "But now that he's gone I'm back to nothing. And I can't - " he sucks in a sharp, shaky breath, willing himself not to despair so visibly, " - find my coat anywhere. I don't know what he's done with it or where he's hidden it. So I can't go...home."
Beyond them, the sea cries out in crashing waves, a hollow, deep sound.
"Joshua. Please. You've always been so kind to me. I - " truly adore you " - enjoy your time and company." Alecto takes a tentative step forward, the another, until they're barely touching. He reaches a slender hand up to brush against the wide chest of the man before him. "Can you help me look for my coat? I'll do anything."
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"Alecto," he says, quietly. "Of course I'll help you. Whatever you need. Anything I can provide. But -" He casts his mind a little to the situation, to the revelation now of exactly why Alecto had been so sheltered, so seemingly naive about the idiosyncrasies of relating to other humans. Josh had made a conscious decision to take on his current position, choosing the isolation, had found Alecto so refreshing and novel in that respect, so easy to relate to; the fact that Alecto had not actually had that choice, was very much a stranger in a strange land, meant he needed to be a little more careful, to consider Alecto's reputation in society, as well as what he personally wanted.
At least until he could leave, to go back to the sea, his true home.
"We need to go back to your house," he says, taking a step back, and turning away, to grab his coat. "We need to... establish what is happening, what people are going to see." He stops, turns. "Alecto - I won't leave you alone, I promise. But people will talk, and it won't - it won't be easy."
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"Ok," he breathes, moving his fingers slowly until they knit with Josh's own, lightly, briefly, fragile.
Under the cover of darkness they steal back up the hill to the hollow house, that gilded cage, Alecto once made a home of. It's still a mess, as he had left it. He walks Josh through the halls, stepping over broken glass and splintered wood, desperately upturned floorboards.
"It's not here, I know it isn't," Alecto bemoans, as he plucks hopelessly at the blankets on the sofa, the cushions all thrown off and ripped open, white feathers and stuffing everywhere, making the entire living room look like a beaten cloud.
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"Alecto," he says, quiet, assured. "If we knew exactly where your coat was, where Nathaniel hid it, none of this would matter. But you've overturned the whole house, and we still need to be able to investigate, to see where else he might have hid it, if it's not here. Perhaps it's hidden in his office by the shipyards, or some other place. But -" It wasn't going to be easy to figure out where it was, and then to gain access to it. And there was still the problem of how Alecto - now widowed twice over, first from the sea and then the man who had taken it from him - would manage to support himself.
He is thinking furiously, wondering what could be done. "You'll have to stay here, then call the constable, summon him, before the storm clears. Tell him that some strangers broke in, and ransacked the whole house, that you have no idea what he could be looking for, that you have no family to turn to, that perhaps they were taking advantage of you being alone with your husband missing." Best to get ahead of the narrative, to take the existing evidence and link it more closely to plausible events. At least the town, never the warmest towards Alecto, could be trusted to be sympathetic to the plight of a recent widow whose last refuge had been violated by unknown criminals. Where those criminals were going to come from was another story, but the thought of Alecto deliberately causing this damage was going to be a farfetched one for most people.
"That will at least spur some investigation. It might be possible to - understand what Nathaniel left behind, to get an accounting, some kind of inventory." And once news had spread, who knew what family members or hangers-on or other business partners might come out of the woodwork, whether or not a will or testament was actually discovered.
He reaches for Alecto, raises one hand to brush back the hair at his temple. "And... you'll... have to play the grieving widow, at least for a little while." This wasn't high society, where widows could expect support from families and an estate for an appropriate amount of time. The town would quickly resign itself to Alecto seeking out a provider, or at least some other occupation to support himself; the alternative did not really bear thinking about. But at least if he played the part, any kind of investigation would have to pay lip service to Nathaniel's widow, would have to at least report back to her what was found in the way of financial arrangements.
And perhaps they'd find Alecto's coat on their own, and quickly, and all this would be moot; Alecto could return to the sea and his true home and Joshua could go entirely back to his isolated life at the lighthouse.
They do not find it quickly.
Fortunately, most of the rest of Joshua's plan seems to work. The town is sympathetic as word gets out and some kind-hearted souls even come to help replace or piece together the belongings destroyed as Alecto tries to settle back into the house to some degree again; he wears widow's weeds (at Joshua's urging) when outside and otherwise keeps mostly to himself. But for all its recent financial success, this was a small seaside town; almost everyone was working or occupied in making a living to some degree. Nathaniel may have wanted to keep his wife in comfort, but Alecto had still kept house, done the chores, and all else that was expected of a spouse in such a position.
And if there were suitors in town were willing to pay court - well - that was Alecto's business, with no family of his own to look askance upon him, and no possibility of support from what remained of Nathaniel's family, fighting publicly and greedily over the shipbuilding business.
Joshua stays closely in touch with both the ongoing inheritance battle and Alecto, every moment he could spare away from the lighthouse. They become a familiar sight - Joshua escorting a pale-faced (black really wasn't his color, when it came to clothing) Alecto between the constabulary and the bank and the shipyard, inquiring as to news. Nathaniel's family fights mainly by correspondence; not one of them traveling to such a small town to take stock of what they wanted possession of. But while the fight is ongoing, the company offices are sealed completely shut.
Other than these things, life settles into a new equilibrium.
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They would find it. With time.
And until then, they had lives to live.
And so everything else happened as it should and the days started to blur together in a comfortable, thoughtless way, where Alecto didn't have to worry so much about his every move and glance and could simply focus on trying to adjust to his new routine. It did take a few extra weeks but the townsfolk began to relent their suspicions and judgement as well, which was a relief, though they still treated Alecto polite enough in that wary and slightly puzzled way, as if he carried with him some eccentric customs from a country far away, which made it necessary for them to take great caution in order not to startle or offend.
(And as for Nathaniel’s family? Well. They never really liked Alecto that much anyhow and seemed quite content to have him cut from their lives entirely. Far more concerned were they with inheritances and deeds and finances and other such material nonsense, the likes of which Alecto truly had no interest in touching.
He was fine to live with only the necessities. He always had been.)
But none of that was ultimately very important.
What was important to Alecto however, was having Joshua by his side this whole time. And how deeply he felt he had to - no, wanted to - repay him for everything he'd done since.
So the first thing Alecto does is pawn the old wedding ring in the next town over for a hefty sum of money with which he gifts to Joshua to help upkeep the lighthouse, its nearby docks, and his own humble, day-to-day needs. The act caused a bit of a rumour mill to start spinning for a few days but otherwise, no lasting damage was dealt. Joshua and Alecto did tend to keep to themselves anyhow and their plain, utterly boring going-abouts was ultimately not enough to sustain juicy gossip about long term. Luckily.
With that all done, Alecto focuses the rest of his time doing what he does best while landlocked: keeping a home afloat. Daily, he scrubs the floors, dusts the mantle; keeps things organized and findable. In the evenings, he does the laundry, hoisting the woven basket out to the grass bring back in once they've dried in the wind. Weekly, he searches the markets and keeps the kitchen stocked with spices, fruits, herbs, and meats. On weekends, he drifts into town like a pale ghost, dressed back now in increasingly pale hues as time passes, picking up heavy tweeds, cottons, and Irish wools - grey with flecks of mossy green - to sew new shirts, jackets, and slacks for Joshua as Autumn begins its slow, cold descent upon the harbor.
And so he settles.
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With the help of Alecto's soft arranging touches these past few months, Joshua Archer's small house upon the dark sea cliffs was starting to feel wonderfully decorated and lived in instead of the sparse, economic space it was before.
And when he finally does come home that evening, he will come face to face (as he always did, lately) with a full dinner table, a tall glass of beer, and a fire in the hearth: tonight they have fried fish done in an egg and breadcrumb batter with tarragon sauce, curried lobster with rice, roasted potatoes, minced cabbage, a sumptuous chowder, and a lingonberry pie in the oven. Alecto himself is seated near the hearth, a willowy figure, needle and thread in his deft fingers, mending an old pair of Joshua's overworked slacks. The moonlight from the window was streaming directly into his face presently; in such a strong glow, most people look somewhat washed out, but his clear, fine features were only illuminated until it was a shock to look at him, at his pale and radiant eyes with their sooty lashes, at the dark hairline at his temple that blended gradually into his glossy, fluffy waves, warm as ink.
The sound of the door closing and locking makes Alecto look up, a soft smile on his face. "Welcome back."
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He can't help his own answering smile as he shrugs off his coat, unable to quite tear his eyes away from the slim figure sitting by the hearth, glowing with cool moonlight on one side and warm firelight on the other, looking even more like something out of a fairy story than what he already was.
It's hard to remember, sometimes, that he'd come back here more or less intending to be alone, until the growing duties outstripped his ability to maintain them on his own.
"I'm home," he murmurs, and walks over to Alecto, gently removing his slacks and the needle and thread from his hands, setting the needle neatly into the worn cloth and folding it to set it aside. "It's a lovely night," he notes, staring at his face, dark hair, pale skin, eyes bright with an otherworldly night. "Did you want to go for a walk together after we finish eating?"
The last few weeks had been difficult, the weather always just a bit challenging, always another errand to run or another duty to fulfill. But he remembers, deeply, intrinsically, that there was another side of Alecto, lithe quicksilver and darting movements. He feels his failure to find his coat again, to return the sea to him (and him to the sea), very keenly, even as the life they're starting to build together settles around his soul, an unexpected and un-looked-for comfort that he fears he's growing too attached to.
He could do this much, if nothing else.
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They eat and it's a gentle affair, full of little anecdotes and jokes and the wholesome clicks of silverware against ceramic as plates and bowls were licked clean. Alecto helps to clear the table afterwards, leaving the dishes to soak for later that night as they put on their boots and scarves and long jackets, heading out into the dark with only a small, glowing lantern to light their way.
They move towards the waves in careful steps, Alecto's body attuned to the waterside like a compass to the north star. The air was musty with fog, sharp with the edge of a twilight chill. There was no noise but the crunch of their shoes on the rocky sand, the whistle of wind in the nearby pines. He begins humming an ethereal tune, letting the sound be carried off into the distance, and almost as soon as he had begun, there is a small flutter of movement in the water close to them. He immediately hones in on it, with an excited little gasp.
A seal appears in the seafoam. Light grey, heavily freckled, with large, sloping eyes.
Alecto perks up at the sight, excitedly, turning to Joshua and taking his far larger hand, pulling him forward more. "Come, I would like for you to meet my sister. I didn't know if she'd hear the song, but - " He bends down to sit on the rocky outcrop as the seal hoists itself up next to him, and in one graceful instance, a mere blink of the eyes, takes on the shape of a small woman with long, dark hair, as she pulls the hood of her spotted coat off her head.
"Well," she begins, her voice melodious and charmingly frayed while she throws her arms around her brother and kisses his cheek. She smells of salt and sea spray. "This is the new one?" She pulls back and subjects Joshua to her wide, shimmery stare, a smile sliding onto her tiny face. "Certainly better than the last, I'd say. I'm Pippa."
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For all that he'd utterly believed Alecto's story, believed he was who he said he was, this is still the first time he's ever seen that transformation before, and he startles, his hand briefly tightening on Alecto's hand before he lets him go forward to the water. To his sister.
He barely hears her words, still in awe of this small evidence of magic, the seamless way that the seal shifts form into a young woman. He can see the family resemblance in their faces next to each other; he can't help wondering if he'd met her too, at some point in those long-ago summers of childhood.
"A pleasure to meet you, Pippa," he murmurs with a slight bow, polite and courteous. "I'm Joshua."
He can't think of anything more to say. This was an enormity, a confirmation of what exactly had been taken away from Alecto, a home, a family, a place - another world - where he truly belonged. He doesn't quite realize his eyes are a little wet until the wind blows a gentle chill, and he turns his face away.
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He just now notices how the glow from the lantern catches on the dampness on his cheek. And he softens. With care, Alecto rises and bumps Joshua's jaw gently with his nose, trying to catch his attention again. "I know it's all a bit much, isn't it?" He says, kindly and a little apologetic. In his arms, the pup makes a fussy little barking sound.
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His chest is filling with something warm and indescribable, seeing how Joshua holds the child and he can't help but to imagine, to dream what it could be like to give this man a family. To share this unique and beautiful experience with him, to fill their tiny home with more joy and noise and song than can possibly be imagined.
Alecto's throat feels very tight and for the first time in a long time as he stands between Joshua and Pippa, between the jagged divide of land and sea, he feels like weeping.
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Joshua looks up again, searching for Alecto, for reassurance.
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"He'd make a good father, that one," Pippa hums, watching them with amusement, damp with the crashing tide all around them. And the thought makes Alecto blush slightly, his cheeks warming.
"I agree. One day. With whomever is lucky enough to be his wife," Alecto responds, both hopeful and uncertain. His answer leaves several doors wide open, but cautiously so. He knows that despite the fact they've been playing house for the past few weeks, that's really all that it was. There was no ring, no vows, no rituals. Nothing real. Not yet anyway. Alecto stayed because he was bound, and Joshua - well, Joshua wanted to help him because...he was a good man. That was all.
...That was all.
After a little while longer, the clouds coming to obscure the moon as night drags forward. Pippa takes her leave with her babe, pressing her forehead to Alecto's in parting. And as she slips back into the watery dark, Alecto clutches at his chest, longing to be with her, with his family, to sink back into the safety of the sea. There must be so much he's missed, he thinks.
But still, obediently, he bows his head and heads back inland. There was no use in yearning. They were doing what they could to find his coat. But time and patience were necessary evils in the land of mankind.
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It's still early in the evening, even if he feels a little wrung dry. As he closes the door behind them and locks it, he searches for something to say. Everything feels so inadequate to address - what had been forced on Alecto, the obvious longing in his gaze. And Joshua had his hands tied; there is only so much within his power, though there were more and more moments these days where he contemplated the necessity of committing a crime, thinking it would be worth it if only he could give the sea back to Alecto.
Even if it meant losing him in the giving.
Well, if he couldn't find words of his own, there was always -
"Alecto?" He asks, soft, curious. "It's still early. Would you like to read with me?"
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As he hangs up their things, snuffing out the lantern and returning it back to its hook by the doorway, he beams at Josh’s suggestion. He’s eager for anything to pivot them away from the complicated feelings they both had just experienced.
“I would love that. Very much.”
Alecto, being a literal seal, could not read. In fact he could barely write and luckily there really wasn’t an occasion yet where he needed to learn. His ability with the spoken word served him well enough in society and it came from years of eavesdropping on human conversation when he and his siblings would hide their coats beneath the dunes and sneak into bars and shops and street corners, fully disguised. So, although he communicated deceptively well and had a great grasp on commonplace slang and lingo, Alecto could never quite manage to work his way through a written grocery list much less a full book.
Hence, these moments were precious, when he curled up in the quilts against Joshua in bed and simply listened to him read. Currently, they were in the midst of a tale about a dashing detective and his side kick, a long suffering doctor, as they tried to solve a mystery in the English countryside. Alecto found it riveting entertainment and was actually very looking forward to the next chapter.
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It made it so easy to forget that it was something coerced.
He finishes the next chapter, and slips a piece of paper between the pages to mark their place. Though they slept in the same bed - for reasons of practicality, of course - they had done nothing other than sleep, with perhaps a little more contact to share warmth on chilly nights. Alecto's reputation had already been strange in town, but Joshua's own standing, the formal code of conduct he was expected to abide by, kept the rumors to whispers rather an open roar. As long as the beacon was lit to guide ships to safety, as long as a storm didn't equate loss of life, as long as none of his duties were neglected, they had that cover of respectability, at least, whatever the townsfolk might make of the appearance.
It would all be moot, anyway, once (if) they found Alecto's stolen coat, and he disappeared back beneath the waves, where he belonged, leaving Joshua and the rest of the human world behind.
...Perhaps there was one more thing he could try.
He looks at Alecto, curled up under their shared quilts, and leans in to press his nose against his cheek, the little unique intimacy that had developed between them, that Joshua had started to come to treasure more than any other form of contact they shared.
"Thank you," he murmurs, soft and quiet. "For everything."
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“Mm?” He blinks his big eyes up at him, nuzzling him in return, a hand coming up to rest against that strong, chiseled jaw. He uses that touch to gently turn Joshua’s face so they could look at each other. There is an intense and charged moment of intimacy here, and Alecto’s skin warms. “Truly, I should be the one thanking you. For all your help, your patience, your…kindness,” he responds. “I don’t have very many skills or value here on the land so keeping your home warm and clean is the least I can think of doing.” His thumb is gentle in how it traces the curve of Joshua’s cheekbone.
“Are you,” he begins, his hand sliding down the slope of Joshua’s neck to his shoulder, not clear exactly what he hopes to get out of this moment, “sure there’s nothing else I can give you?”
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But whatever Alecto's gratefulness for what little Joshua had been able to provide him, Joshua is deeply aware of that gaping wound, that past betrayal that had made this moment possible. It didn't matter that he hadn't been the original perpetrator. Every moment when Alecto didn't have true freedom, wasn't able to actually make a choice, was an extension of that initial violation.
But in moments like this, however much he hated it, he feels a deep fellow feeling with Nathaniel, for holding so tight to Alecto, for wanting to keep this for as long as possible, for ignoring the toll.
It was easy to count the cost cheap, when you weren't the one paying.
"You've given me so much," he says, a little helplessly. "I... don't think I can ask for more."
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Their knees and legs are pressed close and he takes a deep breath in, inhaling Joshua’s scent, his unique musk, tannic and manly. He thinks he’ll never be able to forget it.
“I want to make you happy, Joshua. As happy as you’ve helped make me while I’m here.”
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"You've already made me happier than I ever dreamed I could be," he says, soft, genuine, with a hint of wistfulness. But Alecto's words give him pause. How happy could he really be, trapped here on land? And even if Joshua was less possessive, less controlling than Nathaniel seemed to have been...
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Oh, human beings and their winding, endless words. They trap themselves in these complicated geometries. And for what? When was the last time Joshua Archer allowed himself to just feel?
And so Alecto goes with his pure, animal instinct, following its lead. He allows Joshua to continue to make his frail excuses as he leans up and kisses him fully, chastely, held longer together even if their lips remain closed: the press of Alecto's mouth is insistent. But he knows that still might not be convincing enough. So, he takes the other man's free hand and guides it down, down, down his navel and to the spot between his legs, where he's thrumming and hot and wet.
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"Alecto," he gasps out, and then he hisses, shifting on the bed so he is kneeling between Alecto's legs, and pushes Alecto down on his back, reaching for the scraps of clothing he is wearing.
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"Please," he whispers, "keep touching me." He pauses to think on the words. Then, adds, "I want you to keep touching me."
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