Harry And The Shipgirls: Prisoner of Shipping (A HP/KanColle Snippet Collection)
- Thread starter Harry Leferts
- Start date
- Crossover
Valley of River
Photographer of the Valley of the River
- Location
- Canada. In a Valley. With a River.
Harry's in Yokosuka, he knows about Operation: Fleet Ending, and the Hitobashira Twins are due to show up soon. not only that, but it's New Years. Whatever's on the way, I highly doubt that an Endbringer Shelter will be able to effectively withstand it. maybe even between L'arc-en Ciel and Wave Motion Gun levels of firepower.
- Location
- East
This implies that they were not present at some point...
- Location
- england
i wonder if brigid/haruka knows the joys PB cookies yet?
also....
if you can doge a wrench.. you can doge a feelbomber....
also....
if you can doge a wrench.. you can doge a feelbomber....
Snippet 52: SisterJeanne
- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
A.N.-Sometimes you have to hit rock bottom to build a firm foundation. Warning, this one is not a pleasant snippet.
A Dove and Her Poignard (Part V)
February 23rd, 2013, Castle Moulbaix, Belgium
Two weeks had passed since her manifestation and arrival at the Castle and Ehren had gotten into a bit of a familiar routine.
Piano lessons with Big Sister Claire were a delight and a treasure. Claire was patient, forgiving of her many, many errors and missteps, and encouraged her as she dutifully labored to correct them. Her improvements were pointed out and highlighted and at the end she was always treated to Claire serenading her with a solo performance of some kind.
Ehren's heart thundered to Wagner's magnificence, soared with Debussy, Beethoven, and Mozart's brilliance, and was moved to tears that she would never show by Chopin's delicate expressiveness. Claire shed tears enough for them both when she introduced Ehren to Chopin's Nocturne in E Flat Major, after all.
Kasuyu was a rock. While Ehren had to struggle more than a bit internally considering he was African and black as coal, his frightening competence both in the kitchen and in the salle d'armes sparring with her gained her respect. While he was a servant and her inferior - as should be proper for a non-Aryan - he was a skilled and valued servant. She could respect that.
Then there was Mother.
Starting with their first conversation, Mother had been...distant. Every time Ehren saw her, she had pain, guilt and fear in her eyes when she looked at Ehren. Her speech was...formal, cool, with something in it.
Never the words Ehren wished to hear from her.
Ehren silently wished with all her heart that Mother would speak to her, call her daughter, as she did to Claire. But she could see no pathway to that objective, no means of storming the walls in her path to gain the prize within.
Mother had also strictly forbade her to wear the uniform in her presence. Which was her right as her superior after all, but...
Fortunately, Ehren's wardrobe had been replenished with a shopping trip that filled her dresser and closet with almost-acceptable substitutes. Starched and pressed white blouses and black skirts, ties neatly folded and arrayed, black leather ankle boots in precisely linear rows, and stockings of pure creamy white stood in the same geometric precision and place as she had stood in 1938 at the Party Rally, each part of a greater, more perfect whole.
Claire, bless her heart, did not care if Ehren allowed herself to manifest in her proper silver and black dress uniform with her siegrunen, Adler und Hakenkreuz, and SS-Totenkopf fillign her with quiet pride for her place as the elite pinnacle of a greater Germany. Kasuyu said it was not his place to deny her that part of herself.
Which left Mother's reaction to it.
Why?
She had asked Claire, who did not know, not surprising since it did not involve music. Kasuyu said that it had to do with something that happened in The War, but he did not know what for the Mistress had not confided in him.
Which left asking Mother.
And she did not know how to approach her, how to get the answers she so desperately desired. How to get the love and acceptance that were denied to her.
After all, was it Mother's own wish that she was adopted as Ehren du Chasteler, or thanks to Claire's pleas that caused Mother to give her a family?
Was she really part of Mother's family, or not?
She firmed her jaw as she stared proudly at the girl in the black and silver in her mirror.
She would confront mother about these questions and bridge the gap...soon.
First she needed information to plan her attack, establish objectives to be stormed for jumping off points to launch a shock attack upon the citadel of Mother's heart to gain access within. All by the corpus of military wisdom that Father had excelled at studying.
And now was the time to gain that information.
Ehren and Kasuyu were out to buy groceries and some sheet music to assist in her studies (not that Claire needed the excuse to terrorize the local music stores, all of whom knew her by face and name!).
Mother had gone through the Vanishing Cabinet to speak to Aunt Delilah - a momentary disjointed flash of a tomb carved of stone with a bier in the center, a tall brunette looking at her and Father with leaf-green eyes as Father pointed to Mother appeared and faded in an instant - and would be gone for a while.
Which left her alone in the house to do her information gathering.
She marched out of her room and down the hall to Mother's study. Entering, she surveyed the familiar decor of African masks, bookshelves, and the desk where she had rested for decades. Ignoring for the moment the bookshelf glimmering with the faint shimmer of an alarm ward over Mother's private books and papers, she sat down in the desk chair.
The computer was locked, of course. But then she had spent years sitting next to it and knew Mother's password.
Her fingers found the keyboard and typed in "Search: Schutzstaffel in World War II".
One slender finger clicked the mouse to send her request for truth into the ether.
----------------------------------
"Hi Del. I need to talk to you about my daughter. No, not Claire, my favorite dagger manifested two weeks ago. DEL! This isn't funny, stop laughing!"
----------------------------------
I have issued the command, and I'll have anybody who utters but one word of criticism executed by a firing squad, that our war aim does not consist in reaching certain lines, but in the physical destruction of the enemy. Accordingly, I have placed my death's-head formation in readiness, for the present only in the East, with orders to them to send to death mercilessly and without compassion, men, women, and children of Polish derivation and language. Only thus shall we gain the living space which we need. Who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians?
Words she had heard but not understood from her position on Father's hip at a staff conference in August 1939 from Der Führer's own lips whirled through her mind as steel blue eyes widened in shock and horror at the photograph of laughing soldiers standing over a half-filled mass grave as another line of civilians were led forward to the edge....
--------------------------------
"No seriously, Del. It's just... Every time I see her I see him, and remember how that ended. And I worry about making the same mistakes I made with him that will send her down that same dark path. Please, another shot of bourbon, I'll need it for this."
-------------------------------
As for the Jews, I am just carrying on with the same policy which the Catholic Church has adopted for fifteen hundred years, when it has regarded the Jews as dangerous and pushed them into ghettos etc., because it knew what the Jews were like. I don't put race above religion, but I do see the danger in the representatives of this race for Church and State, and perhaps I am doing Christianity a great service.
Words that Father had read in Mein Kampf whirled through her mind at another photograph of a squalid ghetto with starving men, women, and children wearing the yellow Star of David and surrounded by barbed wire. Black clad shoulders shook with barely controlled sobs of shame.
-------------------------------
"I mean, Ehren really believes in what she was taught. What he was taught. And if I challenge her on it, it will only drive her away from me. Away from what we believe in. I know you are better than I am at this, Del. Stop smirking at me, this is tough enough without you rubbing it in."
--------------------------------
To attain our aim we should stop at nothing even if we must join forces with the devil.
Another image from her search for the truth seared into her soul.
The Reichsführer-SS, a man that she and father knew and respected stared back at her as he conducted a tour of a Konzentrationslager and watched a convoy of Jews get sent to the gas chambers with interest from the newsreel for internal SS use that had been captured after the War.
Salt tears splashed down on Colombe's desk to to join the vomited contents of Ehren's stomach as a blonde head shook in futile desperate denial of what she knew in her heart now was true.
--------------------------------
"I'll try to do that Del. Take it slow and gentle with her, and support her. She was as much a victim as Kasuyu was with the cannibal tribe that bound him to serve their shaman after all. I don't know how, but... I'll try. It's just... it hurts me to see her, Del. A lot."
--------------------------------
If positive Christianity means love of one's neighbour, i.e. the tending of the sick, the clothing of the poor, the feeding of the hungry, the giving of drink to those who are thirsty, then it is we who are the more positive Christians. For in these spheres the community of the people of National Socialist Germany has accomplished a prodigious work.
"This is Dachau..."
Words spoken by a US Army officer sent by the victorious Allies to make a newsreel to remind humanity what they fought for...and fought against sounded through the study. Ehren slid from the chair to huddle in a miserable ball, weeping uncontrollably.
She pulled her true body from its sheath, not caring how the razor edges of her blade cut into her hand as she glared with naked hatred through her tears on the Adler and Hakenkreuz set in platinum silver under the matching siegrunen on her hilt.
On her heart.
On her soul.
Staining her for all time with all they represented.
Lies.
Hatred.
Torture.
Murder.
Man's inhumanity to man.
nein...
Nein...
NEIN!!!
Never Again...
Never Again!!!
A Dove and Her Poignard (Part V)
February 23rd, 2013, Castle Moulbaix, Belgium
Two weeks had passed since her manifestation and arrival at the Castle and Ehren had gotten into a bit of a familiar routine.
Piano lessons with Big Sister Claire were a delight and a treasure. Claire was patient, forgiving of her many, many errors and missteps, and encouraged her as she dutifully labored to correct them. Her improvements were pointed out and highlighted and at the end she was always treated to Claire serenading her with a solo performance of some kind.
Ehren's heart thundered to Wagner's magnificence, soared with Debussy, Beethoven, and Mozart's brilliance, and was moved to tears that she would never show by Chopin's delicate expressiveness. Claire shed tears enough for them both when she introduced Ehren to Chopin's Nocturne in E Flat Major, after all.
Kasuyu was a rock. While Ehren had to struggle more than a bit internally considering he was African and black as coal, his frightening competence both in the kitchen and in the salle d'armes sparring with her gained her respect. While he was a servant and her inferior - as should be proper for a non-Aryan - he was a skilled and valued servant. She could respect that.
Then there was Mother.
Starting with their first conversation, Mother had been...distant. Every time Ehren saw her, she had pain, guilt and fear in her eyes when she looked at Ehren. Her speech was...formal, cool, with something in it.
Never the words Ehren wished to hear from her.
Ehren silently wished with all her heart that Mother would speak to her, call her daughter, as she did to Claire. But she could see no pathway to that objective, no means of storming the walls in her path to gain the prize within.
Mother had also strictly forbade her to wear the uniform in her presence. Which was her right as her superior after all, but...
Fortunately, Ehren's wardrobe had been replenished with a shopping trip that filled her dresser and closet with almost-acceptable substitutes. Starched and pressed white blouses and black skirts, ties neatly folded and arrayed, black leather ankle boots in precisely linear rows, and stockings of pure creamy white stood in the same geometric precision and place as she had stood in 1938 at the Party Rally, each part of a greater, more perfect whole.
Claire, bless her heart, did not care if Ehren allowed herself to manifest in her proper silver and black dress uniform with her siegrunen, Adler und Hakenkreuz, and SS-Totenkopf fillign her with quiet pride for her place as the elite pinnacle of a greater Germany. Kasuyu said it was not his place to deny her that part of herself.
Which left Mother's reaction to it.
Why?
She had asked Claire, who did not know, not surprising since it did not involve music. Kasuyu said that it had to do with something that happened in The War, but he did not know what for the Mistress had not confided in him.
Which left asking Mother.
And she did not know how to approach her, how to get the answers she so desperately desired. How to get the love and acceptance that were denied to her.
After all, was it Mother's own wish that she was adopted as Ehren du Chasteler, or thanks to Claire's pleas that caused Mother to give her a family?
Was she really part of Mother's family, or not?
She firmed her jaw as she stared proudly at the girl in the black and silver in her mirror.
She would confront mother about these questions and bridge the gap...soon.
First she needed information to plan her attack, establish objectives to be stormed for jumping off points to launch a shock attack upon the citadel of Mother's heart to gain access within. All by the corpus of military wisdom that Father had excelled at studying.
And now was the time to gain that information.
Ehren and Kasuyu were out to buy groceries and some sheet music to assist in her studies (not that Claire needed the excuse to terrorize the local music stores, all of whom knew her by face and name!).
Mother had gone through the Vanishing Cabinet to speak to Aunt Delilah - a momentary disjointed flash of a tomb carved of stone with a bier in the center, a tall brunette looking at her and Father with leaf-green eyes as Father pointed to Mother appeared and faded in an instant - and would be gone for a while.
Which left her alone in the house to do her information gathering.
She marched out of her room and down the hall to Mother's study. Entering, she surveyed the familiar decor of African masks, bookshelves, and the desk where she had rested for decades. Ignoring for the moment the bookshelf glimmering with the faint shimmer of an alarm ward over Mother's private books and papers, she sat down in the desk chair.
The computer was locked, of course. But then she had spent years sitting next to it and knew Mother's password.
Her fingers found the keyboard and typed in "Search: Schutzstaffel in World War II".
One slender finger clicked the mouse to send her request for truth into the ether.
----------------------------------
"Hi Del. I need to talk to you about my daughter. No, not Claire, my favorite dagger manifested two weeks ago. DEL! This isn't funny, stop laughing!"
----------------------------------
I have issued the command, and I'll have anybody who utters but one word of criticism executed by a firing squad, that our war aim does not consist in reaching certain lines, but in the physical destruction of the enemy. Accordingly, I have placed my death's-head formation in readiness, for the present only in the East, with orders to them to send to death mercilessly and without compassion, men, women, and children of Polish derivation and language. Only thus shall we gain the living space which we need. Who, after all, speaks today of the annihilation of the Armenians?
Words she had heard but not understood from her position on Father's hip at a staff conference in August 1939 from Der Führer's own lips whirled through her mind as steel blue eyes widened in shock and horror at the photograph of laughing soldiers standing over a half-filled mass grave as another line of civilians were led forward to the edge....
--------------------------------
"No seriously, Del. It's just... Every time I see her I see him, and remember how that ended. And I worry about making the same mistakes I made with him that will send her down that same dark path. Please, another shot of bourbon, I'll need it for this."
-------------------------------
As for the Jews, I am just carrying on with the same policy which the Catholic Church has adopted for fifteen hundred years, when it has regarded the Jews as dangerous and pushed them into ghettos etc., because it knew what the Jews were like. I don't put race above religion, but I do see the danger in the representatives of this race for Church and State, and perhaps I am doing Christianity a great service.
Words that Father had read in Mein Kampf whirled through her mind at another photograph of a squalid ghetto with starving men, women, and children wearing the yellow Star of David and surrounded by barbed wire. Black clad shoulders shook with barely controlled sobs of shame.
-------------------------------
"I mean, Ehren really believes in what she was taught. What he was taught. And if I challenge her on it, it will only drive her away from me. Away from what we believe in. I know you are better than I am at this, Del. Stop smirking at me, this is tough enough without you rubbing it in."
--------------------------------
To attain our aim we should stop at nothing even if we must join forces with the devil.
Another image from her search for the truth seared into her soul.
The Reichsführer-SS, a man that she and father knew and respected stared back at her as he conducted a tour of a Konzentrationslager and watched a convoy of Jews get sent to the gas chambers with interest from the newsreel for internal SS use that had been captured after the War.
Salt tears splashed down on Colombe's desk to to join the vomited contents of Ehren's stomach as a blonde head shook in futile desperate denial of what she knew in her heart now was true.
--------------------------------
"I'll try to do that Del. Take it slow and gentle with her, and support her. She was as much a victim as Kasuyu was with the cannibal tribe that bound him to serve their shaman after all. I don't know how, but... I'll try. It's just... it hurts me to see her, Del. A lot."
--------------------------------
If positive Christianity means love of one's neighbour, i.e. the tending of the sick, the clothing of the poor, the feeding of the hungry, the giving of drink to those who are thirsty, then it is we who are the more positive Christians. For in these spheres the community of the people of National Socialist Germany has accomplished a prodigious work.
"This is Dachau..."
Words spoken by a US Army officer sent by the victorious Allies to make a newsreel to remind humanity what they fought for...and fought against sounded through the study. Ehren slid from the chair to huddle in a miserable ball, weeping uncontrollably.
She pulled her true body from its sheath, not caring how the razor edges of her blade cut into her hand as she glared with naked hatred through her tears on the Adler and Hakenkreuz set in platinum silver under the matching siegrunen on her hilt.
On her heart.
On her soul.
Staining her for all time with all they represented.
Lies.
Hatred.
Torture.
Murder.
Man's inhumanity to man.
nein...
Nein...
NEIN!!!
Never Again...
Never Again!!!
Last edited:
Snippet 53: SisterJeanne
- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
A.N.-Since it's Mother's Day, here's something trending positive after last snippet.
A Dove and Her Poignard (Part VI)
February 23rd, 2013, Castle Moulbaix, Belgium
Colombe stepped out of her Vanishing Cabinet with a smug smirk on her face.
Thankfully, Delilah had some advice for her on the Ehren Situation, and her sister's taste in fine liquors was not bad either.
She would have to see about getting a few bottle from that distillery for her birthday. Later.
Right, attack plan in place.
Her blade sharpened and honed.
Time to make the needed thrust to break down her daughter's guarded reserve and get to know her.
Then the slow work of weaning her away from those evil Nazi beliefs that she had been indoctrinated in literally from birth could start.
She had failed Wolff.
But she would not fail Ehren.
"Ehren!"
No answer.
She strode down the hall and stuck her head in her youngest daughter's room. It was laid out as if for inspection by a particularly demanding sergeant, with everything in its proper place and a bed made so tightly that you could bounce a coin on it.
No Ehren.
With that she turned and strode down the hall, her eyes narrowing at the sight of her study door wide open.
"Ehr---"
Colombe's voice died in her throat as she saw the inside.
Her desk chair was knocked over next to a discarded extremely familiar black and silver SS hat. Vomit stained her desk and her computer screen.
A screen that was showing archived film footage taken from the Holocaust.
The blood drained from Colombe's face, and she shook her head in mute denial as her brain reached the unpleasant conclusion.
Ehren knew.
What she would do with that soul-shattering knowledge....
The possibilities filled Colombe's veins with ice.
Her daughter might....
Colombe dashed to find Ehren, praying desperately that she would be in time as she cast a haste spell upon herself.
----------------------------
Colombe's frantic search finally took her to the garage for the family car in what had been the stables in her youth. As she approached, she could hear the scream of one of the power tools stored there for heavy maintenance work and her heart sank even further.
"EHREN!!!"
Colombe's spell-assisted kick blew the inch-thick bolted metal door open and halfway off its hinges as she charged in.
Inside the room was an absolute shambles.
Discarded tools littered the floor, many with blood spattering them.
More blood was everywhere, especially on the slender girl in the ripped, torn, and burned SS uniform as she staggered on her feet, blood flowing from the damage that she had done to her avatar with her efforts.
Blood and tears oozed from the remains of her eyes as Ehren grasped the blade of her dagger body with hands long since cut to the bone. She staggered to the roaring industrial grinder and slammed the hilt of her dagger, glimmering with the self-protection and repair spells that Colombe herself had cast over decades, on the spinning wheel once more with all her strength.
Sparks flew as she pressed the still intact Nazi insignia that she had been crafted with against the cutting edge in a desperate attempt to deface it and screamed through a throat raw with agony as more gashes formed in her avatar.
"Warum wird es nicht zerstört?"
Colombe dashed to her daughter's aid and cradled her gently as the younger spirit's dagger body slipped from her weakening grasp.
"Sssh, Ehren, sssh,... Mutti ist da. Es wird alles gut."
-----------------------------------
February 24th, 2013, Castle Moulbaix, Belgium
Ehren stirred in her bed, just like before in mortal agony in her spirit and numbed body. Faint piano music sounded in her semi-consciousness.
Gasping in pain, she reached up to try to touch the potion-soaked bandages covering her face with equally bandaged hands.
Only her left hand moved obedient to her will.
Her right hand was captured, and now she could dimly sense through the pain suppression spells and haziness someone using her legs as a pillow.
A hand in hers.
Not Claire's.
Callouses made by centuries of warfare covering the fingers she could feel holding her own callouses in a unbreakable grip.
Colombe's hand.
Mother was here asleep as she refused to abandon her child.
Mother was here for her.
Mother would be here.
Mother would always be here.
Deep inside her spirit, a little bit of the pain from her heritage left her and a small blossom of hope and love appeared in its place.
A blossom that would continue to grow despite everything else life would throw at her .
Mother loved her daughter Ehren du Chasteler.
Despite everything.
She tried to have her hand squeeze back, but she wasn't sure if it did.
It didn't matter.
Her left hand fell back to the sheets as she accepted the embrace of healing sleep.
Mother loved her.
A Dove and Her Poignard (Part VI)
February 23rd, 2013, Castle Moulbaix, Belgium
Colombe stepped out of her Vanishing Cabinet with a smug smirk on her face.
Thankfully, Delilah had some advice for her on the Ehren Situation, and her sister's taste in fine liquors was not bad either.
She would have to see about getting a few bottle from that distillery for her birthday. Later.
Right, attack plan in place.
Her blade sharpened and honed.
Time to make the needed thrust to break down her daughter's guarded reserve and get to know her.
Then the slow work of weaning her away from those evil Nazi beliefs that she had been indoctrinated in literally from birth could start.
She had failed Wolff.
But she would not fail Ehren.
"Ehren!"
No answer.
She strode down the hall and stuck her head in her youngest daughter's room. It was laid out as if for inspection by a particularly demanding sergeant, with everything in its proper place and a bed made so tightly that you could bounce a coin on it.
No Ehren.
With that she turned and strode down the hall, her eyes narrowing at the sight of her study door wide open.
"Ehr---"
Colombe's voice died in her throat as she saw the inside.
Her desk chair was knocked over next to a discarded extremely familiar black and silver SS hat. Vomit stained her desk and her computer screen.
A screen that was showing archived film footage taken from the Holocaust.
The blood drained from Colombe's face, and she shook her head in mute denial as her brain reached the unpleasant conclusion.
Ehren knew.
What she would do with that soul-shattering knowledge....
The possibilities filled Colombe's veins with ice.
Her daughter might....
Colombe dashed to find Ehren, praying desperately that she would be in time as she cast a haste spell upon herself.
----------------------------
Colombe's frantic search finally took her to the garage for the family car in what had been the stables in her youth. As she approached, she could hear the scream of one of the power tools stored there for heavy maintenance work and her heart sank even further.
"EHREN!!!"
Colombe's spell-assisted kick blew the inch-thick bolted metal door open and halfway off its hinges as she charged in.
Inside the room was an absolute shambles.
Discarded tools littered the floor, many with blood spattering them.
More blood was everywhere, especially on the slender girl in the ripped, torn, and burned SS uniform as she staggered on her feet, blood flowing from the damage that she had done to her avatar with her efforts.
Blood and tears oozed from the remains of her eyes as Ehren grasped the blade of her dagger body with hands long since cut to the bone. She staggered to the roaring industrial grinder and slammed the hilt of her dagger, glimmering with the self-protection and repair spells that Colombe herself had cast over decades, on the spinning wheel once more with all her strength.
Sparks flew as she pressed the still intact Nazi insignia that she had been crafted with against the cutting edge in a desperate attempt to deface it and screamed through a throat raw with agony as more gashes formed in her avatar.
"Warum wird es nicht zerstört?"
Colombe dashed to her daughter's aid and cradled her gently as the younger spirit's dagger body slipped from her weakening grasp.
"Sssh, Ehren, sssh,... Mutti ist da. Es wird alles gut."
-----------------------------------
February 24th, 2013, Castle Moulbaix, Belgium
Ehren stirred in her bed, just like before in mortal agony in her spirit and numbed body. Faint piano music sounded in her semi-consciousness.
Gasping in pain, she reached up to try to touch the potion-soaked bandages covering her face with equally bandaged hands.
Only her left hand moved obedient to her will.
Her right hand was captured, and now she could dimly sense through the pain suppression spells and haziness someone using her legs as a pillow.
A hand in hers.
Not Claire's.
Callouses made by centuries of warfare covering the fingers she could feel holding her own callouses in a unbreakable grip.
Colombe's hand.
Mother was here asleep as she refused to abandon her child.
Mother was here for her.
Mother would be here.
Mother would always be here.
Deep inside her spirit, a little bit of the pain from her heritage left her and a small blossom of hope and love appeared in its place.
A blossom that would continue to grow despite everything else life would throw at her .
Mother loved her daughter Ehren du Chasteler.
Despite everything.
She tried to have her hand squeeze back, but she wasn't sure if it did.
It didn't matter.
Her left hand fell back to the sheets as she accepted the embrace of healing sleep.
Mother loved her.
Last edited:
Jadesteele
Out of my Mind - Back in 5 Minutes
- Location
- half-way between 'Crazy' And 'Eccentric'
No, don't think that is a good idea - they tend to have insect problems, and the guy in charge is a real Snake...
ijnfleetadmiral
CinC Rengo Kanmusutai
- Location
- Admiral's Bridge, HIJMS Kongo
Gee, wonder why Taichi's smiling? :lol
- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
Probably the same reason CarDiv 1 is smiling. :lol
Snippet 5: K9Thefirst1
So after some back and forth and discussion over PM, Harry convinced me to post a scene of what has become of Isley.
December 29th, 2013, Portsmouth
The First Sea Lord Robert Fairbank and Admiral Witcomb stood in a sea of organized chaos, aides and technicians rushing about here and there and everywhere, relaying information being taken in via the small squad of recon drones. The nimble VTOL ROVs took full advantage of the North Sea weather to hide from the eyes of the Abyssal fleet discovered months ago. Typical doctrine would have been to send a fleet out to face the Abyssals, especially when intel revealed that they were lead by a Princess-type. With the rock they inhabited so close to shipping lanes and the UK in particular, it was unconscionable to do anything else... Normally.
With the Abyssinian Accords, the equations were altered. This was the very reason why having the Princess Atlantia was required to serve as an intermediary if circumstances required: Any Abyssal they were able to discourage from fighting, was one less that they needed to fight. With the much needed man- and naval power thus freed to be used elsewhere. And if they turned out to be hostile? It meant that the Abyssals were shooting each other, sparing Humanity's shipgirls from the risk of attacking themselves.
Thus, while the Canadians were waking up Halifax, Her Majesty's Navy had invited the Princess to go over the blips on radar that had been confirmed for enemy activity. Several times since then, she and her second and bodyguard made many such covert visits, gathering data, and examining satellite and recon images. And now it was time. Time to investigate the Abyssal fleet that was perfectly positioned to raid British ports... But hadn't. The drones would provide a visual record of the meeting, and their remote pilots were to do as best they could to get a clear line of sight of the lips for the Spooks in the MI for lip-reading analysis. And unknown to the Princess, one of Her Majesty's submarines was close by with special audio equipment, to corroborate the Princess's report on the conversation.
All that was left was the waiting.
"...What is your wager, Whitcomb?"
"Sir?"
"On this meeting," the older man replied plainly, "if you were a betting man, what would you wager your money on?"
Whitcomb looked at the older admiral, looking for some sign that he was serious, or jesting, or trying to corner him. But, finding none, he shrugged and gave the question some thought.
"Well... In the months since we've known about this group, they've never moved from their base. And yet they have a rather easy path to raid some sensitive coastline up and down the Eastern Coast. And there's no telling how long they have been there. And we know that they haven't been in any known attack, because thanks to Atlantia's IFF charts we have no prior record of these individuals. So, I would put some serious quid on them being peaceful and Her Highness convincing them to make it official."
Fairbank considered the younger officer, looking for any sign of doubt or subterfuge. So Whitcomb stared back, trying to make his resolution clear. Apparently he was successful, because Lord Admiral Fairbank smiled and nodded.
"Indeed. I agree. If these Abyssals were hostile, it is likely that we would have seen some sign by now..."
The sky was overcast, and the seas choppy. Not entirely unusual for the North Sea, but there was a noticeable tang in the air, the hum of the unnatural. For those along the coast, the sensation was well known: Abyssals were afoot. Powerful ones. On her tiny island, Isley made no effort to disguise her nervous gulp, nor the unease in her hand as it rubbed her growing belly. This was a day she had long dreaded – An Elder Princess had found her. A small part of her was eternally grateful that it was not Mother. She would not hesitate to slay her in cold blood for her failure, but her Aunts, ironically enough, cared for her too little to likely care overly much. If she played her cards right, then her and Sirius' child, if not herself or her fleet, would live to see the spring, whatever that would look like.
Isley flinched at the flash and crack of lightning and thunder, which oversaturated the environs in light and blinded everyone of the sight of the landing party in detail. Instead the two figures making landfall were exaggerated in darkness. And the eyes of the shorter and curvier of the two glowed out in Hellfire Red from the silhouette. Isley stealed her expression of cool observation, praying that Aunt Ancient Gateway could not smell her terror. Her fleet, bless them, made a great show of strength in their stances and how they had all weapons trained on her and the Ocean Liner Demon. But Ancient Gateway made a mockery of the display without effort, in how she permitted her Power to radiate from her like oil from a stricken tanker, not even granting them the dignity of acknowledgement.
In time, the Elder Princess and her Demon came to a stop, the latter mounting her fists on her hips, the former crossing her arms under her bust as she took in the sight of Isley. Isley took a breath, and bowed as deeply as her shifting center of gravity would permit to the shorter, but superior, Princess.
"All Hail the Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess, Elder to the Abyss."
Her aunt cocked an eyebrow, for once looking apathetically towards the surrounding members of her fleet before addressing Isley.
"It is 'Atlantia' now, Isolated Island. So. You have survived."
"Indeed, Your Highness."
"Curious. We do believe this is not the island you had been assigned. And given that you did not report back, it was assumed by Central Atlantic that your operation was a total loss. And yet…?"
Isley bowed her head, and averted eye contact.
"The defenders were… More formidable than expected. We… We lost many, and the survivors were so badly damaged that we could not RTB, so we landed on the first available island we could find. Once we recovered enough to brave a return, we could not hail on any of the frequencies. Without orders w-we chose to wait."
"In other words, you failed to conduct recon sufficient to plan your attack, or at the least determine if attack was wise, paid the price, and rather than own up to your mistakes like an adult and proper military leader, governor, and potential Sovereign, you ran and hid like a child."
Isley jerked her head up to glare at her aunt. How dare she dismiss the hardships of her fleet as if they were nothing! But… When she looked this short Princess in the eye, and took in the utter disappointment in her eyes, suddenly the years melted away and she was once again a newbuild who performed underwhelmingly in her training exercises. The Petty Princess recalled that of all the Elder Princesses, including her mother, it was Ancient Gateway that cared the least about things like Glory or Status or Aggression, but instead promoted Results and Preparations. And even in her moments of deepest longing for Mother's Approval, it had always been Aunt Gateway whose critique, without fail, that motivated her quest for betterment, and approval and encouragement in the face of failure soothed the sting of it the most. And just like in those halcyon days, her harsh words were nonetheless absolutely correct. But Isley still grit her teeth.
"I most strongly disagree Your Highness. Nothing could prepare any fleet for those..." to the younger Princess' shame, she shuddered at the memories of shrieking cloaks, flying like forlorn flags of the damned, "Things."
Aunt Gateway's expression shifted to something more calculating and thoughtful, stroking her chin in the pause of their conversation, taking in what Isley said... Then she started taking a real look at the remnants of the fleet Isley left home with, all those years ago.
"Hmmm... How many were lost in battle? And how many succumbed to injury or time?"
At that... Isley lowered her head.
"I... neglected to apply your council against Over-Aggression, we over-extended, and those in my charge suffered the consequences. Mother would not have forgiven me. Nor given us a chance at redemption."
She didn't see it, but Isley knew that Aunt Gateway nodded in agreement. After a moment, the Elder Princess began to circle Isley. The sensation of a shark circling prey came unbidden to Isley's mind. Especially at the sight of the black blade at Aunt Gateway's thigh from the corner of her eye.
"Indeed. Central Atlantic was not one for such things. So it stands as no surprise that she died without need."
"Mother is… Dead?" Isley interjected, genuine shock in her voice. Mother had always seemed so… Mighty! It seemed that only Divine Intervention could possibly hinder her, let alone kill her!
"As dead as We are living," Gateway proclaimed, with more than proper joy in her voice, "along with all of the others of our sisterhood."
Isley turned to her Aunt, shock clearly written in her features. Aunt Gateway made no effort to hide her sense of smug superiority. Nor should she have. It was little secret that the Ancient Gateway did not agree with the plan for war as the other Sovereigns did. And how she only went along with the plan with monumental and loud reluctance. Mockeries and jeers abound among Isley's sisters and cousins amongst their fleets, all calling the youngest Elder Princess a coward, or a civilian, or a glorified merchant port, fit only for… For things unspeakable in polite discourse. And yet of all the Heirs of the Abyss, it was the one that wanted War the least that had survived all these years, while those lusting for it died by the sword. So did that mean…?
"And so… The war, Revered Elder?"
Did that mean that she and Sirius could raise their child in peace?
Aunt Gateway came to a stop before her niece, and sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping just enough to hint on the weariness within her heart.
"It proceeds. It has been a stalemate for nigh on a decade, and We would not balk in the slightest at a flare up within the next few years, but it proceeds. To avoid the wroth of the Humans in the early years We too went into hiding, but even if We had not, none of the fleets descendant of our sisters would have sworn fealty to Us. Nor did We have the numbers to humble the Abyss and force the issue."
The field was silent, save for the rumbling of thunder, and the whispering amongst Isley's fleet, no doubt they were all pondering what it might mean. Isley herself was curious as well. Specifically, why would Aunt Gateway come all the way out here with such risks to her safety from Abyssal and Human alike?
"So… What has, changed. Your Highness?"
"Eagerness."
Isley rose her head to look at her aunt. She suspected her confusion was more evident than she desired, given how Aunt Gateway answered her unasked question.
"The Humans have grown weary of War, Islolated Island. The years since what they call Blood Week have cooled their tempers, and so calls for ceasefire and treaty are accepted and negotiated with almost no questions asked. In fact, We have also of late made a pact with the Humans. In exchange for Military assistance and intelligence sharing, and favorable trade and permitting Foreign Investments, We and Our Realm shall be spared genocide, and We are permitted first claim to any Phantom Islands Our forces find. Provided they are not already within Human jurisdiction of course. Now rise."
At the command, Isley stood up to her full height, and looked down on her Aunt, naked curiosity in her eyes. Her Aunt look in her niece from her head to her feet, cold calculation in her eyes. The Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess was measuring Isolated Island Princess' worth. And the consequences of being found wanting made Isley instinctively cover her belly protectively. 'Sirius…'
"In accordance with that treaty," Aunt Gateway continued, loud enough for all to hear, "We... I, was asked by the Humans to meet with you. To assess your threat to Human vessels, your willingness to surrender. And how you are to be… Dealt with, if required."
Isley felt her breath catch in her throat, and the life in her stomach felt exceedingly real. Aunt Gateway may have always been the most magnanimous of the Elder Princesses… But she was still an Elder Princess of the Abyss, with all the Power, and Wrath, and Cruelty that implied.
"Tell Us niece… If you are required to make nice with the Humans, to the point of being surrounded by them at all hours of the year, would that be cause for umbrage?"
"Nay. I have not a personal quarrel with them. In fact, I find their company… Pleasurable."
A snicker or two escaped from the surrounding fleet, and despite the gravity of the situation Isley was pleased at the expression she managed to get out of her Aunt: a slightly raised eyebrow, and a twitch at the corner of her mouth.
"Which explains something different about you." Her aunt replied as she once more circled Isley, taking greater interest in her swollen stomach.
"Is the father present?"
"N-no. He… Had duties elsewhere, long overdue."
"Hmmm… Tell Us. Was he… Willing? Or was he a hostage under threat?"
"Wh-what?!"
Gateway stopped in front of Isley, her glowing gaze glaring at her dead in the eye and brooking not even to notion of an argument.
"Did. You. Rape. Him. The humans will be keenly interested in your answer."
"NO!" Isley bellowed, and against her better judgement her vision turned red and she raised her voice, "Sirius loves me! And I him, and damn you to Hell for suggesting I would ever abuse someone in- in THAT way!"
The island was quiet again as the Petty Princess and the Elder Princess stared each other down. Isley was taking deep breaths to calm herself, while Aunt Gateway, curse her, looked utterly unimpressed at the display. Isley, damn the consequences, was sorely tempted to slug her full in the mouth. And she might have, had Ocean Liner Demon not been present. Despite being only a Demon, and of a merchant class at that, there was always a sense that there was something… 'off' about the Feral Abyssal. Something not right, as if she were a rabid animal on Gateway's leash, and best left unmolested.
Regardless, the two Princesses stood still… Until Aunt Gateway smirked.
"'Sirius' was it?"
Isley gulped, but otherwise maintained her composure. In her fury, she gave away her lover's name, likely putting him at risk of arrest by the Ministry. Which was likely the purpose from the beginning. Too late, she recalled another lesson from her Aunt's assessments: 'Passion is a weakness to exploit, or to have exploited,' and she fell for it. Aunt Gateway rubbed her chin, once more looking Isley over appraisingly.
"Tell me… Would you chafe under the rule of another? Under my rule?"
The shift in discussion threw Isley off, and she once again recalled another lesson: An unbalanced opponent is weak. Despite being years out of practice, Isley swiftly found herself slipping into the mindset from her Aunt's lessons. This whole meeting was a test. The fallout regarding revealing Sirius' identity could wait. She was being tested, and it was for keeps. Taking a stoic expression, Isley crossed her arms under her own bust, matching her Aunt's posture, recalling a lesson regarding how mirroring someone's posture made them unconsciously more amiable towards you.
"Depends. Will me, my fleet, or my child suffer punishment for crimes we didn't commit? If so, I see no reason why I should do anything other than what we have done."
To Isley's internal satisfaction, Aunt Gateway permitted a small twitch at the corners of her mouth.
"As the majority of the humans do not recognize the government your target belonged to, only the most belligerent, least popular, and least political in Government would make issue with your singular act in the war. As to your relationship with Central, do not worry. Humans' most expressed religion has this to say: 'The soul who sins shall die. But if a man is just, he shall surely live.' A sentiment I generally agree with."
Isley narrowed her eyes at her Aunt, considering her offer of amnesty… But Aunt Gateway was not one to indulge in charity if there was nothing to get out of it.
"And so, in exchange for this pardon, we will fight in your war against the rest of the Abyss?"
Aunt Gateway cocked an eyebrow at that, but there was approval in her eye at her deduction at her long-term goals.
"You do not desire to fight for your liege."
It ought to have been a question, but Aunt Gateway's tone made it anything but. 'Dangerous waters here, best to be clear.'
"If attacked or threatened," she said, conspicuously rubbing her belly, "all of us will open fire on anyone. But it has been many years since we did so. Our equipment is no doubt out of date, and we are all out of practice. Front line service would not be suitable for us."
"Naturally. However… Perhaps escort duties? With the recent pacts with the Humans, I have need of a proper embassy. And my present envoy would be greatly pleased at any assistance she can gain. Does that seem agreeable?"
Isley gave the offer some thought. Indeed, with the implied job offer as Embassy security, her fleet would only need to be intimidating except in the rare emergency situation. To be frank, none of those that had stayed with her through the years, rather than leave for other fleets, were at all interested in going into battle ever again, not after the horrors they suffered in their one and only battle. And Ambassador? It certainly made sense. As her niece, Isley was a historically natural choice for the role, as Family could honestly speak in the best interests of Family. While Isley wasn't sure she had the best qualifications to be a Dignitary, the mention of a pre-existing envoy meant she would have someone to get her up to speed… And cynically, it meant that Aunt Gateway could keep a very public eye on her, to ensure she wasn't plotting anything. And, finally, it meant that they could get off this rock. And her child would be able to be born and grow in more… Comfortable environs.
"It is. In fact… I think I recall hearing about a place that you might find useful as an Embassy. If you do not mind my boldness."
Aunt Gateway smiled warmly and nodded.
"Then kneel, niece, and repeat after Us."
Taking care of her belly, Isley kneeled and bowed her head. Behind her, Isley heard the rest of her fleet following her lead. And with Aunt Gatew- Aunt Atlantia guiding her, she swore her loyalty, her industry, and her life, along with those of her fleet, to Her Highness Porta Abysseum Atlantia, Elder Princess of the Abyss, Regent of Abyssinia. Whatever that meant.
The pair sailed from the island to rejoin the fleet in silence. When they were far enough from shore to speak freely, Porta addressed Ocean Liner Demon.
"The last I spoke with that girl, it was still a decade before Blood Week. I had expected her to be just as bloodthirsty as the others and just as worthy of eradication."
"Yes. I had hoped to rip and tear some before the offensives begin."
"Still… Her amiability is a boon that I am eager to turn into an asset."
"So. What will you tell the Humans?"
"The truth. She has sworn loyalty to me, and her fleet – after being properly cleared of course, up to and including demilitarization if required – will serve as my Embassy guards, as well as augment the Convoy Divisions."
"And her Baby Daddy?"
"My instincts tell me that there is a story to this 'Sirius' fellow, but in what manner I cannot tell. Either way, I will pass the name onto Reivana to be fished among her contacts among the Mundane and Magical British Governments for clues about this man."
"Feeling protective?" The Demon quipped, voice amused.
"Once things calm down and I can draft the charter of Abyssinia, I will decide one way or the other if Isley will be officially regarded part of either the Imperial Family, an aristocracy, or anything at all, niece or not. How she conducts herself will play a major role in deciding that. The alliance she has unwittingly forged will play an almost as important part."
"'Almost as important?' As in, you might permit a peasant as a noble if she performs well enough?"
Porta tutted in amusement, once more eager to preen in her own cleverness.
"Do not forget Demon, eight-hundred years ago, the Hapsburg family was an insignificant minor noble family in the Alps. Eight-hundred years before that and they were… Pig farmers or something. Blood is vital to Authority Demon, but sometimes there comes need to bestow Authority into blood in the first place."
Liner turned to her princess, and Porta had a real sense that she was being evaluated for sincerity, or some other factor known only to the Demon.
"Huh. That's a change in tone for you. And Angband?"
The Princess looked to the Demon for a time before turning her gaze back out front, and was silent for some time, and when she answered, it was with a quiet voice almost above a whisper, an expression of trepidation on her face.
"I have always seen myself as pragmatic Demon, adaptable. The fact that I live and thrive while my sisters and their fleets are dead, dying, and in decline is proof of that. And Angband… I have been thinking a great deal on her Demon. The daughter I neglected in favor for the one with the Divine Right, and yet she is everything I had hoped for in an heir… This past year or so, I have been beginning to look on my actions and I think I may have been… Wrong, to dismiss her so."
Ocean Liner Demon turned to look at her princess with a jerk, her body language blatantly describing her shock and surprise at what she was hearing.
"So… What will you do, Your Highness?"
Porta was quiet, alternating between biting her lip and biting her thumbnail.
"I don't know. And I hate that the most…"
Just below them, HMS Venturer nodded in satisfaction as her crew stowed away the equipment and left for the nearest station.
------
December 29th, 2013, Portsmouth
The First Sea Lord Robert Fairbank and Admiral Witcomb stood in a sea of organized chaos, aides and technicians rushing about here and there and everywhere, relaying information being taken in via the small squad of recon drones. The nimble VTOL ROVs took full advantage of the North Sea weather to hide from the eyes of the Abyssal fleet discovered months ago. Typical doctrine would have been to send a fleet out to face the Abyssals, especially when intel revealed that they were lead by a Princess-type. With the rock they inhabited so close to shipping lanes and the UK in particular, it was unconscionable to do anything else... Normally.
With the Abyssinian Accords, the equations were altered. This was the very reason why having the Princess Atlantia was required to serve as an intermediary if circumstances required: Any Abyssal they were able to discourage from fighting, was one less that they needed to fight. With the much needed man- and naval power thus freed to be used elsewhere. And if they turned out to be hostile? It meant that the Abyssals were shooting each other, sparing Humanity's shipgirls from the risk of attacking themselves.
Thus, while the Canadians were waking up Halifax, Her Majesty's Navy had invited the Princess to go over the blips on radar that had been confirmed for enemy activity. Several times since then, she and her second and bodyguard made many such covert visits, gathering data, and examining satellite and recon images. And now it was time. Time to investigate the Abyssal fleet that was perfectly positioned to raid British ports... But hadn't. The drones would provide a visual record of the meeting, and their remote pilots were to do as best they could to get a clear line of sight of the lips for the Spooks in the MI for lip-reading analysis. And unknown to the Princess, one of Her Majesty's submarines was close by with special audio equipment, to corroborate the Princess's report on the conversation.
All that was left was the waiting.
"...What is your wager, Whitcomb?"
"Sir?"
"On this meeting," the older man replied plainly, "if you were a betting man, what would you wager your money on?"
Whitcomb looked at the older admiral, looking for some sign that he was serious, or jesting, or trying to corner him. But, finding none, he shrugged and gave the question some thought.
"Well... In the months since we've known about this group, they've never moved from their base. And yet they have a rather easy path to raid some sensitive coastline up and down the Eastern Coast. And there's no telling how long they have been there. And we know that they haven't been in any known attack, because thanks to Atlantia's IFF charts we have no prior record of these individuals. So, I would put some serious quid on them being peaceful and Her Highness convincing them to make it official."
Fairbank considered the younger officer, looking for any sign of doubt or subterfuge. So Whitcomb stared back, trying to make his resolution clear. Apparently he was successful, because Lord Admiral Fairbank smiled and nodded.
"Indeed. I agree. If these Abyssals were hostile, it is likely that we would have seen some sign by now..."
------
The sky was overcast, and the seas choppy. Not entirely unusual for the North Sea, but there was a noticeable tang in the air, the hum of the unnatural. For those along the coast, the sensation was well known: Abyssals were afoot. Powerful ones. On her tiny island, Isley made no effort to disguise her nervous gulp, nor the unease in her hand as it rubbed her growing belly. This was a day she had long dreaded – An Elder Princess had found her. A small part of her was eternally grateful that it was not Mother. She would not hesitate to slay her in cold blood for her failure, but her Aunts, ironically enough, cared for her too little to likely care overly much. If she played her cards right, then her and Sirius' child, if not herself or her fleet, would live to see the spring, whatever that would look like.
Isley flinched at the flash and crack of lightning and thunder, which oversaturated the environs in light and blinded everyone of the sight of the landing party in detail. Instead the two figures making landfall were exaggerated in darkness. And the eyes of the shorter and curvier of the two glowed out in Hellfire Red from the silhouette. Isley stealed her expression of cool observation, praying that Aunt Ancient Gateway could not smell her terror. Her fleet, bless them, made a great show of strength in their stances and how they had all weapons trained on her and the Ocean Liner Demon. But Ancient Gateway made a mockery of the display without effort, in how she permitted her Power to radiate from her like oil from a stricken tanker, not even granting them the dignity of acknowledgement.
In time, the Elder Princess and her Demon came to a stop, the latter mounting her fists on her hips, the former crossing her arms under her bust as she took in the sight of Isley. Isley took a breath, and bowed as deeply as her shifting center of gravity would permit to the shorter, but superior, Princess.
"All Hail the Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess, Elder to the Abyss."
Her aunt cocked an eyebrow, for once looking apathetically towards the surrounding members of her fleet before addressing Isley.
"It is 'Atlantia' now, Isolated Island. So. You have survived."
"Indeed, Your Highness."
"Curious. We do believe this is not the island you had been assigned. And given that you did not report back, it was assumed by Central Atlantic that your operation was a total loss. And yet…?"
Isley bowed her head, and averted eye contact.
"The defenders were… More formidable than expected. We… We lost many, and the survivors were so badly damaged that we could not RTB, so we landed on the first available island we could find. Once we recovered enough to brave a return, we could not hail on any of the frequencies. Without orders w-we chose to wait."
"In other words, you failed to conduct recon sufficient to plan your attack, or at the least determine if attack was wise, paid the price, and rather than own up to your mistakes like an adult and proper military leader, governor, and potential Sovereign, you ran and hid like a child."
Isley jerked her head up to glare at her aunt. How dare she dismiss the hardships of her fleet as if they were nothing! But… When she looked this short Princess in the eye, and took in the utter disappointment in her eyes, suddenly the years melted away and she was once again a newbuild who performed underwhelmingly in her training exercises. The Petty Princess recalled that of all the Elder Princesses, including her mother, it was Ancient Gateway that cared the least about things like Glory or Status or Aggression, but instead promoted Results and Preparations. And even in her moments of deepest longing for Mother's Approval, it had always been Aunt Gateway whose critique, without fail, that motivated her quest for betterment, and approval and encouragement in the face of failure soothed the sting of it the most. And just like in those halcyon days, her harsh words were nonetheless absolutely correct. But Isley still grit her teeth.
"I most strongly disagree Your Highness. Nothing could prepare any fleet for those..." to the younger Princess' shame, she shuddered at the memories of shrieking cloaks, flying like forlorn flags of the damned, "Things."
Aunt Gateway's expression shifted to something more calculating and thoughtful, stroking her chin in the pause of their conversation, taking in what Isley said... Then she started taking a real look at the remnants of the fleet Isley left home with, all those years ago.
"Hmmm... How many were lost in battle? And how many succumbed to injury or time?"
At that... Isley lowered her head.
"I... neglected to apply your council against Over-Aggression, we over-extended, and those in my charge suffered the consequences. Mother would not have forgiven me. Nor given us a chance at redemption."
She didn't see it, but Isley knew that Aunt Gateway nodded in agreement. After a moment, the Elder Princess began to circle Isley. The sensation of a shark circling prey came unbidden to Isley's mind. Especially at the sight of the black blade at Aunt Gateway's thigh from the corner of her eye.
"Indeed. Central Atlantic was not one for such things. So it stands as no surprise that she died without need."
"Mother is… Dead?" Isley interjected, genuine shock in her voice. Mother had always seemed so… Mighty! It seemed that only Divine Intervention could possibly hinder her, let alone kill her!
"As dead as We are living," Gateway proclaimed, with more than proper joy in her voice, "along with all of the others of our sisterhood."
Isley turned to her Aunt, shock clearly written in her features. Aunt Gateway made no effort to hide her sense of smug superiority. Nor should she have. It was little secret that the Ancient Gateway did not agree with the plan for war as the other Sovereigns did. And how she only went along with the plan with monumental and loud reluctance. Mockeries and jeers abound among Isley's sisters and cousins amongst their fleets, all calling the youngest Elder Princess a coward, or a civilian, or a glorified merchant port, fit only for… For things unspeakable in polite discourse. And yet of all the Heirs of the Abyss, it was the one that wanted War the least that had survived all these years, while those lusting for it died by the sword. So did that mean…?
"And so… The war, Revered Elder?"
Did that mean that she and Sirius could raise their child in peace?
Aunt Gateway came to a stop before her niece, and sighed heavily, her shoulders slumping just enough to hint on the weariness within her heart.
"It proceeds. It has been a stalemate for nigh on a decade, and We would not balk in the slightest at a flare up within the next few years, but it proceeds. To avoid the wroth of the Humans in the early years We too went into hiding, but even if We had not, none of the fleets descendant of our sisters would have sworn fealty to Us. Nor did We have the numbers to humble the Abyss and force the issue."
The field was silent, save for the rumbling of thunder, and the whispering amongst Isley's fleet, no doubt they were all pondering what it might mean. Isley herself was curious as well. Specifically, why would Aunt Gateway come all the way out here with such risks to her safety from Abyssal and Human alike?
"So… What has, changed. Your Highness?"
"Eagerness."
Isley rose her head to look at her aunt. She suspected her confusion was more evident than she desired, given how Aunt Gateway answered her unasked question.
"The Humans have grown weary of War, Islolated Island. The years since what they call Blood Week have cooled their tempers, and so calls for ceasefire and treaty are accepted and negotiated with almost no questions asked. In fact, We have also of late made a pact with the Humans. In exchange for Military assistance and intelligence sharing, and favorable trade and permitting Foreign Investments, We and Our Realm shall be spared genocide, and We are permitted first claim to any Phantom Islands Our forces find. Provided they are not already within Human jurisdiction of course. Now rise."
At the command, Isley stood up to her full height, and looked down on her Aunt, naked curiosity in her eyes. Her Aunt look in her niece from her head to her feet, cold calculation in her eyes. The Ancient Atlantic Gateway Princess was measuring Isolated Island Princess' worth. And the consequences of being found wanting made Isley instinctively cover her belly protectively. 'Sirius…'
"In accordance with that treaty," Aunt Gateway continued, loud enough for all to hear, "We... I, was asked by the Humans to meet with you. To assess your threat to Human vessels, your willingness to surrender. And how you are to be… Dealt with, if required."
Isley felt her breath catch in her throat, and the life in her stomach felt exceedingly real. Aunt Gateway may have always been the most magnanimous of the Elder Princesses… But she was still an Elder Princess of the Abyss, with all the Power, and Wrath, and Cruelty that implied.
"Tell Us niece… If you are required to make nice with the Humans, to the point of being surrounded by them at all hours of the year, would that be cause for umbrage?"
"Nay. I have not a personal quarrel with them. In fact, I find their company… Pleasurable."
A snicker or two escaped from the surrounding fleet, and despite the gravity of the situation Isley was pleased at the expression she managed to get out of her Aunt: a slightly raised eyebrow, and a twitch at the corner of her mouth.
"Which explains something different about you." Her aunt replied as she once more circled Isley, taking greater interest in her swollen stomach.
"Is the father present?"
"N-no. He… Had duties elsewhere, long overdue."
"Hmmm… Tell Us. Was he… Willing? Or was he a hostage under threat?"
"Wh-what?!"
Gateway stopped in front of Isley, her glowing gaze glaring at her dead in the eye and brooking not even to notion of an argument.
"Did. You. Rape. Him. The humans will be keenly interested in your answer."
"NO!" Isley bellowed, and against her better judgement her vision turned red and she raised her voice, "Sirius loves me! And I him, and damn you to Hell for suggesting I would ever abuse someone in- in THAT way!"
The island was quiet again as the Petty Princess and the Elder Princess stared each other down. Isley was taking deep breaths to calm herself, while Aunt Gateway, curse her, looked utterly unimpressed at the display. Isley, damn the consequences, was sorely tempted to slug her full in the mouth. And she might have, had Ocean Liner Demon not been present. Despite being only a Demon, and of a merchant class at that, there was always a sense that there was something… 'off' about the Feral Abyssal. Something not right, as if she were a rabid animal on Gateway's leash, and best left unmolested.
Regardless, the two Princesses stood still… Until Aunt Gateway smirked.
"'Sirius' was it?"
Isley gulped, but otherwise maintained her composure. In her fury, she gave away her lover's name, likely putting him at risk of arrest by the Ministry. Which was likely the purpose from the beginning. Too late, she recalled another lesson from her Aunt's assessments: 'Passion is a weakness to exploit, or to have exploited,' and she fell for it. Aunt Gateway rubbed her chin, once more looking Isley over appraisingly.
"Tell me… Would you chafe under the rule of another? Under my rule?"
The shift in discussion threw Isley off, and she once again recalled another lesson: An unbalanced opponent is weak. Despite being years out of practice, Isley swiftly found herself slipping into the mindset from her Aunt's lessons. This whole meeting was a test. The fallout regarding revealing Sirius' identity could wait. She was being tested, and it was for keeps. Taking a stoic expression, Isley crossed her arms under her own bust, matching her Aunt's posture, recalling a lesson regarding how mirroring someone's posture made them unconsciously more amiable towards you.
"Depends. Will me, my fleet, or my child suffer punishment for crimes we didn't commit? If so, I see no reason why I should do anything other than what we have done."
To Isley's internal satisfaction, Aunt Gateway permitted a small twitch at the corners of her mouth.
"As the majority of the humans do not recognize the government your target belonged to, only the most belligerent, least popular, and least political in Government would make issue with your singular act in the war. As to your relationship with Central, do not worry. Humans' most expressed religion has this to say: 'The soul who sins shall die. But if a man is just, he shall surely live.' A sentiment I generally agree with."
Isley narrowed her eyes at her Aunt, considering her offer of amnesty… But Aunt Gateway was not one to indulge in charity if there was nothing to get out of it.
"And so, in exchange for this pardon, we will fight in your war against the rest of the Abyss?"
Aunt Gateway cocked an eyebrow at that, but there was approval in her eye at her deduction at her long-term goals.
"You do not desire to fight for your liege."
It ought to have been a question, but Aunt Gateway's tone made it anything but. 'Dangerous waters here, best to be clear.'
"If attacked or threatened," she said, conspicuously rubbing her belly, "all of us will open fire on anyone. But it has been many years since we did so. Our equipment is no doubt out of date, and we are all out of practice. Front line service would not be suitable for us."
"Naturally. However… Perhaps escort duties? With the recent pacts with the Humans, I have need of a proper embassy. And my present envoy would be greatly pleased at any assistance she can gain. Does that seem agreeable?"
Isley gave the offer some thought. Indeed, with the implied job offer as Embassy security, her fleet would only need to be intimidating except in the rare emergency situation. To be frank, none of those that had stayed with her through the years, rather than leave for other fleets, were at all interested in going into battle ever again, not after the horrors they suffered in their one and only battle. And Ambassador? It certainly made sense. As her niece, Isley was a historically natural choice for the role, as Family could honestly speak in the best interests of Family. While Isley wasn't sure she had the best qualifications to be a Dignitary, the mention of a pre-existing envoy meant she would have someone to get her up to speed… And cynically, it meant that Aunt Gateway could keep a very public eye on her, to ensure she wasn't plotting anything. And, finally, it meant that they could get off this rock. And her child would be able to be born and grow in more… Comfortable environs.
"It is. In fact… I think I recall hearing about a place that you might find useful as an Embassy. If you do not mind my boldness."
Aunt Gateway smiled warmly and nodded.
"Then kneel, niece, and repeat after Us."
Taking care of her belly, Isley kneeled and bowed her head. Behind her, Isley heard the rest of her fleet following her lead. And with Aunt Gatew- Aunt Atlantia guiding her, she swore her loyalty, her industry, and her life, along with those of her fleet, to Her Highness Porta Abysseum Atlantia, Elder Princess of the Abyss, Regent of Abyssinia. Whatever that meant.
------
The pair sailed from the island to rejoin the fleet in silence. When they were far enough from shore to speak freely, Porta addressed Ocean Liner Demon.
"The last I spoke with that girl, it was still a decade before Blood Week. I had expected her to be just as bloodthirsty as the others and just as worthy of eradication."
"Yes. I had hoped to rip and tear some before the offensives begin."
"Still… Her amiability is a boon that I am eager to turn into an asset."
"So. What will you tell the Humans?"
"The truth. She has sworn loyalty to me, and her fleet – after being properly cleared of course, up to and including demilitarization if required – will serve as my Embassy guards, as well as augment the Convoy Divisions."
"And her Baby Daddy?"
"My instincts tell me that there is a story to this 'Sirius' fellow, but in what manner I cannot tell. Either way, I will pass the name onto Reivana to be fished among her contacts among the Mundane and Magical British Governments for clues about this man."
"Feeling protective?" The Demon quipped, voice amused.
"Once things calm down and I can draft the charter of Abyssinia, I will decide one way or the other if Isley will be officially regarded part of either the Imperial Family, an aristocracy, or anything at all, niece or not. How she conducts herself will play a major role in deciding that. The alliance she has unwittingly forged will play an almost as important part."
"'Almost as important?' As in, you might permit a peasant as a noble if she performs well enough?"
Porta tutted in amusement, once more eager to preen in her own cleverness.
"Do not forget Demon, eight-hundred years ago, the Hapsburg family was an insignificant minor noble family in the Alps. Eight-hundred years before that and they were… Pig farmers or something. Blood is vital to Authority Demon, but sometimes there comes need to bestow Authority into blood in the first place."
Liner turned to her princess, and Porta had a real sense that she was being evaluated for sincerity, or some other factor known only to the Demon.
"Huh. That's a change in tone for you. And Angband?"
The Princess looked to the Demon for a time before turning her gaze back out front, and was silent for some time, and when she answered, it was with a quiet voice almost above a whisper, an expression of trepidation on her face.
"I have always seen myself as pragmatic Demon, adaptable. The fact that I live and thrive while my sisters and their fleets are dead, dying, and in decline is proof of that. And Angband… I have been thinking a great deal on her Demon. The daughter I neglected in favor for the one with the Divine Right, and yet she is everything I had hoped for in an heir… This past year or so, I have been beginning to look on my actions and I think I may have been… Wrong, to dismiss her so."
Ocean Liner Demon turned to look at her princess with a jerk, her body language blatantly describing her shock and surprise at what she was hearing.
"So… What will you do, Your Highness?"
Porta was quiet, alternating between biting her lip and biting her thumbnail.
"I don't know. And I hate that the most…"
Just below them, HMS Venturer nodded in satisfaction as her crew stowed away the equipment and left for the nearest station.
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Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
*Shrugs* Did you expect anything else?
:lol
They are always circling.
Oh! Good question, I shall have to consider this.
Why are you bringing Good Dog into this?
Ouch, and double ouch.
Pretty much, yes.
Been waiting for this for a while now. Porta's reaction is interesting... though it is obvious that she is now curious about several things. Also, that bit with the Submarine at the end goes a long way to show that even she is not omniscient.
Snippet 57: Harry Leferts
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
Softly smiling, Harry watched as Haruka taught Siusan how a modern slow dance. The Irish fox looked somewhat nervous and kept glancing at her feet in concern. Only for Haruka to gently lift her chin so that they could look at each other in the eye and smile before kissing her nose much to the embarrassment of the Irish fox. What made it funnier was that Haruka was actually a head shorter than Siusan.
Granted, that caused the teen to snicker as he remembered how his Grandmother had reacted to seeing Haruka in a dress. Said dress was a rather plain blue one, but it also showed her legs and some of her cleavage. Upon seeing that, Siusan had gone bright red, though Haruka had also flushed a little from the reaction even as she smiled. It did not help matters that Siusan was unable to keep her eyes in one place.
Thus far though, Harry to grin a bit and be even more happy for the Irish fox.
Only shaking his head, the young wizard turned away from the dance floor where the two were dancing and looked towards the door. Mainly because he was waiting for Natsumi to arrive. When she did, Harry rapidly made his way over and gave her a hug, one that was returned, "Hey, Natsumi-Chan."
Hugging him back, Natsumi smiled, "Harry-Chan." When she pulled away, the Kitsune gave him a nod after looking him over, "You're looking nice, Harry-Chan."
Lightly blushing, Harry scratched his cheek and grinned, "Well, I got to match up to you and the others, right? Though..." Now looking away, his next words caused his long time friend to go red herself, "Pretty sure that I failed."
It was now her turn to look away, "Dammit, Harry-Chan... saying such things."
Bemused, Harry smirked a bit at that, "How tsundere~"
All he did was laugh though as Natsumi flicked him in the forehead at that with a huff. But, she was also smiling as she did so, "I am not a tsundere." Shaking her head, she grabbed his arm, "You have to make it up to me by giving me a dance!"
That time, Harry did laugh, "Sure thing, Natsumi-Chan. But maybe first you'd like something to eat?"
Nodding, the Kitsune smiled some, "Well... I am a bit hungry." Natsumi reached up and poked him in the forehead, "After that, a dance."
Harry made a sound of agreement as they made their way over to the refreshment table, though he did raise his eyebrow at the teenaged looking boy there. The wizard had never seen him before, though his clothes were slightly out of date. More than that, Tsukiakari was next to him talking, though he was unable to hear what was being said. Seconds later, the boy looked at him and nodded before walking off himself.
Once they had a few snacks and a drink each, Natsumi pulled him out onto the dancefloor, "Now for that dance!"
Grinning, he nodded down at her as his arms went to her waist, "Well, I did promise you, Natsumi-Chan." When he glanced to the side, he snickered some, "Akagi-Oba and Kaga-Oba seem to be enjoying tonight."
With a blink, Natsumi looked into the same direction and her eyebrows rose as she spotted her brother dancing with Kaga, switching off to dance with Akagi and then back, "Huh..."
Still grinning, Harry leaned towards her ear, "From the rumours around the base, your Nii-San is now dating both of them. And has been for some time though they made it official at Christmas."
A frown on her face, she hummed, "Since Christmas?" When Harry nodded, she grinned, "So does that mean that we won the betting pool? Because I did go with what you suggested."
Unable to help himself, Harry laughed as he nodded, "Hai! Since it happened on Christmas and they have been dating for a time before that... we won it." Both their faces lit up with glee at that, "Which means that we got most of the betting pool!"
Like with Christmas, as the night dragged on, Harry ended up dancing with various shipgirls as well as Natsumi and Regina. At the same time though, he rolled around what Ian had told him in his head. Even if they were interested in that sort of thing... what about him? He cared for them, that much was obvious. But...
Was he even the slightest bit worthy of it was the question that weighed most on his mind, and one that he did not have an answer for...
Or, maybe, that was not true. There was a part of Harry who kept whispering that he was not worthy of affections. That he did not deserve it, or his dream of a family of his own. It was a voice whispering venom in his ear, into his heart and making it ache. What was worse was that he knew that it was venom, that it was pure poison of the worst sort.
So why was he unable to stop it?
Leaving the mess hall, Harry waved off any questions with that he needed to get some air. Several eyes did follow him as their owners had noticed that Harry had seemed deep in thought quite a bit throughout the night, though he had still paid attention to them. Once outside, he walked a short distance away from the doors and sat down on a cold bench while looking out into the sky. Out on the harbour, he could just see various shipgirls getting ready for the fireworks display.
There was one group of lights that he spotted which made him smile. It was a steel hull ship, the JS Fubuki as well as her shipgirl namesake, Yuudachi, Mutsuki, and Kana. All of them clustered together as the steel hull had returned to Yokosuka with her sea trials done successfully. Part of his mind went to how Fubuki had told him that she was going to spend the first New Year's of her namesake with her. Yuudachi and the others had joined in stating that they were going to be there with Fubuki as well, which had made him smile.
Granted, he wondered about the rumour of a crow nesting on said steel hull out at sea, which was very odd indeed...
Shaking his head free of such thoughts though, Harry focused on what was bothering him the whole night. Yes, Ian had obviously been trying to help him, and Harry was thankful for it. At the same time? The thirteen year old had... had issues believing it. Not for his great-great grandfather, no. But... rather in regards to him. The bit where Ian admitted that he did not believe that he had been worthy of the affection and love of his wives stuck with Harry.
In an odd way, it was a stab into the heart of Harry's feelings. What Ian had told him punched through a wall when the elder Potter had told him that he was not the only one who felt that they were unworthy. The fact that the older man had thought such, that he believed that he, too, was unworthy was something that had stuck to Harry. But what had stuck more... what kept rolling around in Harry's head, was what else he had said...
"They believe that you, of all they know, deserve it. And in the end, that is really what matters, that they believe it."
Was it really that simple? That as long as they believed in it... that was what actually mattered? Nothing else, just... that they believed he deserved it? It was a strange concept to say the least and that nasty little voice in his head deep down didn't have an answer except to claim that they didn't see him as worthy, that they were playing with him. That one day they would abandon him, and he would be alone.
Yet, oddly enough? Those words were unable to reach his heart unlike the others much to his surprise. Because he knew that there was nothing false about how they cared for him. That for some reason, they saw him as worthy of their affections. And that was a truth that the nasty little voice was unable to destroy.
So...
Why did he still concern himself about if he thought otherwise?
Harry was so deep in thought that he did not hear the footsteps, but jumped at the small hand that placed itself on his shoulder, "Harry-Chan? Are you okay?"
Twisting around, he noticed RO looking at him in concern, "RO-Chan? What are you doing here?"
Just frowning, the Uboat narrowed her eyes some, "I came out here to look for you, because it is about thirty minutes to Midnight. Almost time for the New Year." Her expression softened a bit, "And I was worried about you being out here for so long thinking."
About to answer, Harry froze as another voice spoke up, "She was not the only one, Harry-Chan." His eyes widened as he realized that Hachi and the others were behind him as well. Tilting his head, the blonde Submarine frowned as she took up a spot on Harry's other side, "Harry-Chan? Talk with us."
Going to tell them it was nothing, the teen paused for a moment. It was the looks in their eyes, something about them froze the words in his throat and he found himself unable to lie. Natsumi took a step forward and placed her hand on his shoulders, bringing her eyes down to his level, "Harry-Chan, please tell us what is wrong? That English saying... a burden shared is a burden halved? We can help you."
Unable to help himself, tears came from his eyes and Harry shuddered some. Swallowing, he took a deep breath, "I... I am not worthy of this and..."
Slowly, it came out. First in a trickle, and then pouring out. The whole time, Natsumi and the others didn't say anything, they simply held him. Verniy came around the front and hugged him there, with the other Submarines as well as Akizuki, Teruzuki, and Hatsuzuki taking up position around him. Finally, Shinano, Louisiana, and Regina as well as Taigei and her sister stood on the outside, the five making sure that no one could listen to what was going on, even as they gave their silent support. While he used the words "Affection", "Kindness", and "Friendship", the group caught the underlying meaning. Though they did not say anything, just silently listening even as they wanted nothing more than to hold him and interrupt him.
Eventually, Harry trailed off, "... And..."
Going silent and unable to say anything else, he finally looked up. He had not known what their expressions would be. What he saw was sadness and sympathy. What anger there was in them was buried, and deep, but most importantly it was not for him. Gently, Verniy reached into her clothes and pulled out a cloth handkerchief. One that she used to gently dab at his cheeks, cleaning the tears away. Then, she wiped his nose and had him blow into it, the cloth vanishing right after. Her hand came up and cupped his cheek softly, "Harry-Chan, look at me."
When he did meet her eyes, he took a deep breath, "Hibiki-Chan?"
For several moments, Verniy looked him in the eye before leaning forward and gently kissing him for a second or two. Then, she pulled back, "Harry-Chan, you have no reason to feel that way. None."
Opening his mouth, Harry shook his head, "But Hibiki-Chan..."
It was then that he felt Hachi's grip on his arm tighten and looked at her. Warm, blue eyes met green at that moment, "Harry-Chan, you say that you believe that you are unworthy. But..." Taking a breath, she let it out, "But there are times when I feel as such."
Part of her wanted to snort at the surprised look on his face at that, but kept it in. Eyebrows furrowing, he shook his head, "Hachi-Chan? But... you are..."
Slowly, she shook her head, "I understand that, Harry-Chan. Up here." Her free hand came up and tapped her head, "Not here all the time." Hachi's hand came down and tapped where her heart would be as a human, "What my crew had done when I was a steel hull, the terrible crimes they committed? I sometimes feel like they make me worthless and unworthy of things such as friendship or love. But... that voice has slowly been going away."
RO gave a nod and chimed in, "And she is not the only one, Harry-Chan." Seeing that he was looking at her, she kissed him and pulled back, "I, too, sometimes feel that way, Ja. Like I am not worth it. Like Hacchan, I am stained by my past as a steel hull and that causes me to feel that way. But... that too, is slowly passing."
Tightening her embrace from behind him, Maruyu shook her head, "Hai, and I too feel that way, Harry-Chan. I was a member of the IJA, and we were far worse than the Navy ever was. And that is a burden that I will carry for my existence. Does that make me unworthy?"
Quickly, Harry shook his head, "N-no, it doesn't..."
With a look around, Shinano crouched down and stroked his head, "Harry-Chan, my first mission in my previous life, though it was unofficial, was a dark one. My cargo was... things that were going to be used for killing, with the pilots using them dying. And for what? Nothing. I am happy that Archerfish sunk me, rather than see my mission completed. But while I do feel happy, I also failed, and sometimes I think that I am a horrible person, unworthy of Kaa-San's love, or that of my Nee-Sans... or any of you."
One by one, the others spoke up with the Akizukis, Taigei and her sister, and the other Submarines making similar comments. Shioi, for example, speaking of how she felt like a failure as she was unable to even perform a mission before the war ended, and also feeling horrible because of feeling like that. Finally, it came to Regina, who brought one cool hand up to Harry's cheek before biting her lip. Before he could say anything, she gently kissed him and pulled back with a soft look on her face, even as her tail nuzzled Harry, "Harry, I am an Abyssal. And while I don't talk about it... I have done bad things, horrible things." Looking from him to Shinano, she sighed, "Yet, I have you, I have Shinano... and others. But I sometimes feel like I do not deserve them, deserve you. However, I can see that you feel otherwise."
As he nodded, Louisiana looked down some, "Mon chéri, I was never built, because my nation, the United States did not feel like I was worth it. And... when I was stuck in that coffin... " Shudders ran through her before Natsumi reached over and took her hand, "There were times when I thought that I was there because I was worthless, unworthy. But... you, mon chéri, and ma chérie, you keep showing me that I am. That I am worth something."
Finally, it came to Natsumi who bit her lip and looked at each of the others before her honey colored eyes met Harry's and she let out a breath, "You probably already guessed my family history, Harry-Chan. The shadow over me... after all, considering how I look..." Seeing his widening eyes, she teared up some, "It was not hard for me to guess, and I am not stupid, Harry-Chan. When I realized that, what that secret was... I felt horrible, like I was not worth... anything. But you also know, and I realize that. You believe that I am worthy." She looked at each of the others and gave them a nod, "That no matter what, we are worthy."
Gently, she kissed him for a few seconds, Verniy moving out of the way so that she could do so, throwing her arms around his neck.
Pulling back, she gave him a soft look as she placed her hands on either cheek and pressed her forehead against his, "Believe me when I say that while you may think that you are not worthy of such things as affection, friendship... love, that you really are. And we will remind you of that whenever that is needed, Harry-Chan. Because that is who you are to us."
Unable to help himself, Harry teared up again and looked around, "You guys... thank you."
Tears in their own eyes, they simply embraced him for several minutes. They only broke away a bit as everyone started to come out and they could hear people chanting the countdown. Looking at each of them, Harry felt like something cracked around his heart. Like the hold of an anchor chain was breaking slowly and he smiled, "Thank you."
Each of the girls smiled at him before kissing him on the cheek as the countdown continued. As the first fireworks went off, Iku nuzzled him, "You are welcome, Harry-Chan."
Placing her hand on his shoulder, Taigei smiled at him, "And know that even if you think otherwise, we believe that you are worth it, Harry-Chan. Also... that we will always listen to you, and will take on your burdens. Because you have taken on ours, so we can do the same back."
Harry only nodded before tilting his head some and giving her a kiss on the lips, the Submarine Tender flushing at that. Though when he pulled back, she had a smile on her face. Nothing more needed to be said, so they just turned to the fireworks, each of them unknowingly having the same wish in their heart.
'Let this year be as good as the last, and allow for us to heal the hurts of the past for those we care for and love...'
Granted, that caused the teen to snicker as he remembered how his Grandmother had reacted to seeing Haruka in a dress. Said dress was a rather plain blue one, but it also showed her legs and some of her cleavage. Upon seeing that, Siusan had gone bright red, though Haruka had also flushed a little from the reaction even as she smiled. It did not help matters that Siusan was unable to keep her eyes in one place.
Thus far though, Harry to grin a bit and be even more happy for the Irish fox.
Only shaking his head, the young wizard turned away from the dance floor where the two were dancing and looked towards the door. Mainly because he was waiting for Natsumi to arrive. When she did, Harry rapidly made his way over and gave her a hug, one that was returned, "Hey, Natsumi-Chan."
Hugging him back, Natsumi smiled, "Harry-Chan." When she pulled away, the Kitsune gave him a nod after looking him over, "You're looking nice, Harry-Chan."
Lightly blushing, Harry scratched his cheek and grinned, "Well, I got to match up to you and the others, right? Though..." Now looking away, his next words caused his long time friend to go red herself, "Pretty sure that I failed."
It was now her turn to look away, "Dammit, Harry-Chan... saying such things."
Bemused, Harry smirked a bit at that, "How tsundere~"
All he did was laugh though as Natsumi flicked him in the forehead at that with a huff. But, she was also smiling as she did so, "I am not a tsundere." Shaking her head, she grabbed his arm, "You have to make it up to me by giving me a dance!"
That time, Harry did laugh, "Sure thing, Natsumi-Chan. But maybe first you'd like something to eat?"
Nodding, the Kitsune smiled some, "Well... I am a bit hungry." Natsumi reached up and poked him in the forehead, "After that, a dance."
Harry made a sound of agreement as they made their way over to the refreshment table, though he did raise his eyebrow at the teenaged looking boy there. The wizard had never seen him before, though his clothes were slightly out of date. More than that, Tsukiakari was next to him talking, though he was unable to hear what was being said. Seconds later, the boy looked at him and nodded before walking off himself.
Once they had a few snacks and a drink each, Natsumi pulled him out onto the dancefloor, "Now for that dance!"
Grinning, he nodded down at her as his arms went to her waist, "Well, I did promise you, Natsumi-Chan." When he glanced to the side, he snickered some, "Akagi-Oba and Kaga-Oba seem to be enjoying tonight."
With a blink, Natsumi looked into the same direction and her eyebrows rose as she spotted her brother dancing with Kaga, switching off to dance with Akagi and then back, "Huh..."
Still grinning, Harry leaned towards her ear, "From the rumours around the base, your Nii-San is now dating both of them. And has been for some time though they made it official at Christmas."
A frown on her face, she hummed, "Since Christmas?" When Harry nodded, she grinned, "So does that mean that we won the betting pool? Because I did go with what you suggested."
Unable to help himself, Harry laughed as he nodded, "Hai! Since it happened on Christmas and they have been dating for a time before that... we won it." Both their faces lit up with glee at that, "Which means that we got most of the betting pool!"
Like with Christmas, as the night dragged on, Harry ended up dancing with various shipgirls as well as Natsumi and Regina. At the same time though, he rolled around what Ian had told him in his head. Even if they were interested in that sort of thing... what about him? He cared for them, that much was obvious. But...
Was he even the slightest bit worthy of it was the question that weighed most on his mind, and one that he did not have an answer for...
Or, maybe, that was not true. There was a part of Harry who kept whispering that he was not worthy of affections. That he did not deserve it, or his dream of a family of his own. It was a voice whispering venom in his ear, into his heart and making it ache. What was worse was that he knew that it was venom, that it was pure poison of the worst sort.
So why was he unable to stop it?
Leaving the mess hall, Harry waved off any questions with that he needed to get some air. Several eyes did follow him as their owners had noticed that Harry had seemed deep in thought quite a bit throughout the night, though he had still paid attention to them. Once outside, he walked a short distance away from the doors and sat down on a cold bench while looking out into the sky. Out on the harbour, he could just see various shipgirls getting ready for the fireworks display.
There was one group of lights that he spotted which made him smile. It was a steel hull ship, the JS Fubuki as well as her shipgirl namesake, Yuudachi, Mutsuki, and Kana. All of them clustered together as the steel hull had returned to Yokosuka with her sea trials done successfully. Part of his mind went to how Fubuki had told him that she was going to spend the first New Year's of her namesake with her. Yuudachi and the others had joined in stating that they were going to be there with Fubuki as well, which had made him smile.
Granted, he wondered about the rumour of a crow nesting on said steel hull out at sea, which was very odd indeed...
Shaking his head free of such thoughts though, Harry focused on what was bothering him the whole night. Yes, Ian had obviously been trying to help him, and Harry was thankful for it. At the same time? The thirteen year old had... had issues believing it. Not for his great-great grandfather, no. But... rather in regards to him. The bit where Ian admitted that he did not believe that he had been worthy of the affection and love of his wives stuck with Harry.
In an odd way, it was a stab into the heart of Harry's feelings. What Ian had told him punched through a wall when the elder Potter had told him that he was not the only one who felt that they were unworthy. The fact that the older man had thought such, that he believed that he, too, was unworthy was something that had stuck to Harry. But what had stuck more... what kept rolling around in Harry's head, was what else he had said...
"They believe that you, of all they know, deserve it. And in the end, that is really what matters, that they believe it."
Was it really that simple? That as long as they believed in it... that was what actually mattered? Nothing else, just... that they believed he deserved it? It was a strange concept to say the least and that nasty little voice in his head deep down didn't have an answer except to claim that they didn't see him as worthy, that they were playing with him. That one day they would abandon him, and he would be alone.
Yet, oddly enough? Those words were unable to reach his heart unlike the others much to his surprise. Because he knew that there was nothing false about how they cared for him. That for some reason, they saw him as worthy of their affections. And that was a truth that the nasty little voice was unable to destroy.
So...
Why did he still concern himself about if he thought otherwise?
Harry was so deep in thought that he did not hear the footsteps, but jumped at the small hand that placed itself on his shoulder, "Harry-Chan? Are you okay?"
Twisting around, he noticed RO looking at him in concern, "RO-Chan? What are you doing here?"
Just frowning, the Uboat narrowed her eyes some, "I came out here to look for you, because it is about thirty minutes to Midnight. Almost time for the New Year." Her expression softened a bit, "And I was worried about you being out here for so long thinking."
About to answer, Harry froze as another voice spoke up, "She was not the only one, Harry-Chan." His eyes widened as he realized that Hachi and the others were behind him as well. Tilting his head, the blonde Submarine frowned as she took up a spot on Harry's other side, "Harry-Chan? Talk with us."
Going to tell them it was nothing, the teen paused for a moment. It was the looks in their eyes, something about them froze the words in his throat and he found himself unable to lie. Natsumi took a step forward and placed her hand on his shoulders, bringing her eyes down to his level, "Harry-Chan, please tell us what is wrong? That English saying... a burden shared is a burden halved? We can help you."
Unable to help himself, tears came from his eyes and Harry shuddered some. Swallowing, he took a deep breath, "I... I am not worthy of this and..."
Slowly, it came out. First in a trickle, and then pouring out. The whole time, Natsumi and the others didn't say anything, they simply held him. Verniy came around the front and hugged him there, with the other Submarines as well as Akizuki, Teruzuki, and Hatsuzuki taking up position around him. Finally, Shinano, Louisiana, and Regina as well as Taigei and her sister stood on the outside, the five making sure that no one could listen to what was going on, even as they gave their silent support. While he used the words "Affection", "Kindness", and "Friendship", the group caught the underlying meaning. Though they did not say anything, just silently listening even as they wanted nothing more than to hold him and interrupt him.
Eventually, Harry trailed off, "... And..."
Going silent and unable to say anything else, he finally looked up. He had not known what their expressions would be. What he saw was sadness and sympathy. What anger there was in them was buried, and deep, but most importantly it was not for him. Gently, Verniy reached into her clothes and pulled out a cloth handkerchief. One that she used to gently dab at his cheeks, cleaning the tears away. Then, she wiped his nose and had him blow into it, the cloth vanishing right after. Her hand came up and cupped his cheek softly, "Harry-Chan, look at me."
When he did meet her eyes, he took a deep breath, "Hibiki-Chan?"
For several moments, Verniy looked him in the eye before leaning forward and gently kissing him for a second or two. Then, she pulled back, "Harry-Chan, you have no reason to feel that way. None."
Opening his mouth, Harry shook his head, "But Hibiki-Chan..."
It was then that he felt Hachi's grip on his arm tighten and looked at her. Warm, blue eyes met green at that moment, "Harry-Chan, you say that you believe that you are unworthy. But..." Taking a breath, she let it out, "But there are times when I feel as such."
Part of her wanted to snort at the surprised look on his face at that, but kept it in. Eyebrows furrowing, he shook his head, "Hachi-Chan? But... you are..."
Slowly, she shook her head, "I understand that, Harry-Chan. Up here." Her free hand came up and tapped her head, "Not here all the time." Hachi's hand came down and tapped where her heart would be as a human, "What my crew had done when I was a steel hull, the terrible crimes they committed? I sometimes feel like they make me worthless and unworthy of things such as friendship or love. But... that voice has slowly been going away."
RO gave a nod and chimed in, "And she is not the only one, Harry-Chan." Seeing that he was looking at her, she kissed him and pulled back, "I, too, sometimes feel that way, Ja. Like I am not worth it. Like Hacchan, I am stained by my past as a steel hull and that causes me to feel that way. But... that too, is slowly passing."
Tightening her embrace from behind him, Maruyu shook her head, "Hai, and I too feel that way, Harry-Chan. I was a member of the IJA, and we were far worse than the Navy ever was. And that is a burden that I will carry for my existence. Does that make me unworthy?"
Quickly, Harry shook his head, "N-no, it doesn't..."
With a look around, Shinano crouched down and stroked his head, "Harry-Chan, my first mission in my previous life, though it was unofficial, was a dark one. My cargo was... things that were going to be used for killing, with the pilots using them dying. And for what? Nothing. I am happy that Archerfish sunk me, rather than see my mission completed. But while I do feel happy, I also failed, and sometimes I think that I am a horrible person, unworthy of Kaa-San's love, or that of my Nee-Sans... or any of you."
One by one, the others spoke up with the Akizukis, Taigei and her sister, and the other Submarines making similar comments. Shioi, for example, speaking of how she felt like a failure as she was unable to even perform a mission before the war ended, and also feeling horrible because of feeling like that. Finally, it came to Regina, who brought one cool hand up to Harry's cheek before biting her lip. Before he could say anything, she gently kissed him and pulled back with a soft look on her face, even as her tail nuzzled Harry, "Harry, I am an Abyssal. And while I don't talk about it... I have done bad things, horrible things." Looking from him to Shinano, she sighed, "Yet, I have you, I have Shinano... and others. But I sometimes feel like I do not deserve them, deserve you. However, I can see that you feel otherwise."
As he nodded, Louisiana looked down some, "Mon chéri, I was never built, because my nation, the United States did not feel like I was worth it. And... when I was stuck in that coffin... " Shudders ran through her before Natsumi reached over and took her hand, "There were times when I thought that I was there because I was worthless, unworthy. But... you, mon chéri, and ma chérie, you keep showing me that I am. That I am worth something."
Finally, it came to Natsumi who bit her lip and looked at each of the others before her honey colored eyes met Harry's and she let out a breath, "You probably already guessed my family history, Harry-Chan. The shadow over me... after all, considering how I look..." Seeing his widening eyes, she teared up some, "It was not hard for me to guess, and I am not stupid, Harry-Chan. When I realized that, what that secret was... I felt horrible, like I was not worth... anything. But you also know, and I realize that. You believe that I am worthy." She looked at each of the others and gave them a nod, "That no matter what, we are worthy."
Gently, she kissed him for a few seconds, Verniy moving out of the way so that she could do so, throwing her arms around his neck.
Pulling back, she gave him a soft look as she placed her hands on either cheek and pressed her forehead against his, "Believe me when I say that while you may think that you are not worthy of such things as affection, friendship... love, that you really are. And we will remind you of that whenever that is needed, Harry-Chan. Because that is who you are to us."
Unable to help himself, Harry teared up again and looked around, "You guys... thank you."
Tears in their own eyes, they simply embraced him for several minutes. They only broke away a bit as everyone started to come out and they could hear people chanting the countdown. Looking at each of them, Harry felt like something cracked around his heart. Like the hold of an anchor chain was breaking slowly and he smiled, "Thank you."
Each of the girls smiled at him before kissing him on the cheek as the countdown continued. As the first fireworks went off, Iku nuzzled him, "You are welcome, Harry-Chan."
Placing her hand on his shoulder, Taigei smiled at him, "And know that even if you think otherwise, we believe that you are worth it, Harry-Chan. Also... that we will always listen to you, and will take on your burdens. Because you have taken on ours, so we can do the same back."
Harry only nodded before tilting his head some and giving her a kiss on the lips, the Submarine Tender flushing at that. Though when he pulled back, she had a smile on her face. Nothing more needed to be said, so they just turned to the fireworks, each of them unknowingly having the same wish in their heart.
'Let this year be as good as the last, and allow for us to heal the hurts of the past for those we care for and love...'
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robopanda
My avatar is the original Avatar!
- Location
- The Northern Air Temple
- Pronouns
- He/Him
Ah, the long awaited reverse fleet introspection. And Gateway really needs to turn the raging bitch dial back by 100, otherwise, I fully see her betraying literally everyone and joining up with the Cold War Abyssals when they finally show up.
Spectral Waltz
Scatterbrained Writer
- Location
- Walking the Endless Corridors
...Why...?
Like... Yes, she's an old style ruler who's pretty harsh, how does that in any way make you think 'gonna turn traitor'?
robopanda
My avatar is the original Avatar!
- Location
- The Northern Air Temple
- Pronouns
- He/Him
In my mind, she has a very Darwinian style of ruling, ie, the strong dominate the weak, etc. That makes me think she'll view the Cold War Abyssals as far superior than everyone, and if those Abyssals take her down, she wouldn't even be mad about it.
See, this doesn't seem right to me, because she'll more likely view them as "dangerous threat, but not people to ally with", because while they may be stronger individually than current shipgirls, sooner or later they'll get overrun by humanity's ability to innovate, and also human-aligned Cold War Shipgirls beginning to return. Not to mention, I wouldn't be surprised to see a much smaller number of Abyssals from the Cold War turning up, because there were far fewer cases where, for example, a ship got jerked around the way Kentucky did. You also have fewer ships at all seeing combat, with basically everyone knowing that not seeing combat is a good thing, because it means there's no risk of the nukes flying and everyone dying.
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
It has been a while in coming.
^This pretty much. Gateway would be smart enough to realize that even Cold War Abyssals would be losers in a fight with humanity. Especially as humanity tech upwards rather rapidly due to Iona's Beacon and other things.
Taigei and her sister have been circling around on the outside, and the Subs have outright stated that they want her to join in. She has also admitted to deeply caring about Harry as well, though whether anything comes from this or it is because all of them are somewhat emotional... *Shrugs*
Cheetar
(is a cheetah)
- Location
- space
Sandy River DL
(Verified Destroyer Leader)
- Location
- Lake Michigan
- Pronouns
- Her/She
Now Harry needs to head to the caldera island and repeat this with his remaining botes and naval base....
- Location
- Deep in the Badlands of Equestria
Besides, nothing says that every single relationship needs to go full waifu for a family bond to develop.
Harry Leferts
Suave Shadow Cabal Kaiju
True enough. *Shrugs*
He might, yes.
Snippet 54: SisterJeanne
- Location
- Mountains of Appalachia
A Dove and Her Poignard (Part VII)
March 7th, 2013, Castle Moulbaix, Belgium
Ehren opened her eyes and looked around her room as she yawned the last sleep from her eyes.
Everything was in place, neat and spotless just as it should be.
Even the Allgemeine-SS black dress uniform neatly arranged and mocking her with its presence on one of her chairs.
That last got a scowl and a hateful stare directed at it.
She sighed in the privacy of her own room as she focused her anger and loathing on her personal Nemesis as it waited silently for her.
Her memories ran back to 'Uncle' Kasuyu explaining what was happening with her uniform.
"You are a Mmụọ nke ihe as am I, your sister Claire, and the Mistress. When we form the shape of a man or woman, we retain a link to that which we truly are. For some it is below the surface, this is how your sister was born with the ability to create music on her true form, for such is her very essence. For others...it is more visible as the smith that made them or the shaman who spoke them into life has his face stamped upon their spirits to show kinship as a son resembles his father."
Her scowl darkened as she glared at the mocking presence of the SS uniform.
Of her shame.
Of her past.
Of part of herself that she wished with all her heart to cut out like a doctor would a tumor.
Another thought rose and she began to nod as her jaw firmed.
'Obstacles do not exist to be surrendered to, but only to be broken.'
Exactly.
I will break this obstacle, this part of myself, and not let it define me.
I will not surrender to it, not give in to this dark part of myself.
I will----
Wait.
I remember those words.
I remember Father reading those words.
In Mein Kampf as he studied those words in SS-Junkerschule.
Hitler's words.
No.
NO!!
They can't be right!
Hitler can't be right!!
Can he?!?
Ehren shook her head in denial as her fists clenched and unclenched and tears trickled down her cheeks and finally raised her eyes to stare at the uniform once more with determination in her steely gaze.
I don't know what to believe anymore.
I don't know what to think about what I am, what I will become since I was lied to and tricked like Father was.
Save I know that I shall never become what I was before I saw under the mask you fooled Father with.
What you represent.
What you did to people like Claire.
I will find a way to overcome you. Somehow. Some day.
I swear that I shall.
The uniform gave no reply.
------------------------------
Ehren looked at herself in the mirror as she dressed for breakfast, smiling slightly at the girl she saw. White long-sleeved blouse with a minimum of frills and a black tie, calf length black skirt with white stockings and polished black ankle boots. She liked this appearance and it did suit her Teutonic features.
With that in mind she gathered her shoulder length wheat-blonde hair and pulled it through a keyboard-patterned 'scrunchy' that Claire had picked out for her to place it into a ponytail.
Alles in Ordnung.
She turned to look at her room, eyes flickering in automatic inspection. Even the uniform waiting for her got no more than a hate-filled scowl.
She walked over to the stand holding her dagger body on her bedside table, and checked it automatically. For a moment one thumb slowly traced the inscription on her blade.
'Meine Ehre Heisst Treue'
"My Honor is Loyalty."
Hitler's words to the SS.
Not blind loyalty, never blind loyalty to march in lockstep down into the Abyss.
My Honor is Faithfulness then.
Faithfulness to what?
What could she find for herself that was worthy to pledge her faithfulness to?
Her Big Sister Claire's love and acceptance?
Kasuyu's quiet support?
Mother's feelings for her?
Perhaps the family members she would meet today for the first time?
Did she dare open her heart to them to be wounded like Mother had accidentally wounded her when she thought that Ehren was a threat to Claire?
Did she dare trust them to guide her correctly rather than lie to her like Hitler had tricked Father and her?
But if not them, if not family, then who could she find to trust and support?
Ehren slowly slid her true body into her sheath and buckled it to her wrist, testing its action. It would be ready; she would be ready if called upon to act to defend her sister.
She could wait and watch and observe. Probe them and determine for herself what judgements to make. Mother had lived for three centuries and Kasuyu for over five.
She had time. She could be patient.
She would not be fooled again. Not when the price of that failure was...
She took a deep breath and forced bile down at the memory of some of the photographs from the Third Reich that she had seen when she researched the SS. Images that haunted the nightmares that she stoically endured night after night as part of her penance for the blood on her soul.
I will do my best, always, in all matters great and small.
I swore to Claire that I would be her little sister.
I swore to Mother while my eyes regrew and my body healed that I would not cause her pain by trying to destroy myself. Mother told me that she did not view me as irrevocably tainted by the crimes others committed and that she fought against.
I swore to myself that I would find a way to remove that stain from my soul that was not self-destructive. That would not cause pain for Mother and Claire and Kasuyu.
That I would never give in to that part of myself that I struggle with constantly.
The Grendel to my Beowulf. The Fafnir to my Siegfried. The Jörmungandr to my Thor.
I keep my word and oath.
Meine Ehre Heisst Treue.
I can believe this.
I can build upon this.
I can build something good and true to be proud of upon this.
I shall build something good and true that shall make Ehren du Chasteler proud of her accomplishment. That shall make Claire and Mother and Kasuyu proud of me.
I swear that I shall make it so.
Nodding to herself as she made that promise, she then squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine before opening her door to go forward and meet her aunts for the first time.
March 7th, 2013, Castle Moulbaix, Belgium
Ehren opened her eyes and looked around her room as she yawned the last sleep from her eyes.
Everything was in place, neat and spotless just as it should be.
Even the Allgemeine-SS black dress uniform neatly arranged and mocking her with its presence on one of her chairs.
That last got a scowl and a hateful stare directed at it.
She sighed in the privacy of her own room as she focused her anger and loathing on her personal Nemesis as it waited silently for her.
Her memories ran back to 'Uncle' Kasuyu explaining what was happening with her uniform.
"You are a Mmụọ nke ihe as am I, your sister Claire, and the Mistress. When we form the shape of a man or woman, we retain a link to that which we truly are. For some it is below the surface, this is how your sister was born with the ability to create music on her true form, for such is her very essence. For others...it is more visible as the smith that made them or the shaman who spoke them into life has his face stamped upon their spirits to show kinship as a son resembles his father."
Her scowl darkened as she glared at the mocking presence of the SS uniform.
Of her shame.
Of her past.
Of part of herself that she wished with all her heart to cut out like a doctor would a tumor.
Another thought rose and she began to nod as her jaw firmed.
'Obstacles do not exist to be surrendered to, but only to be broken.'
Exactly.
I will break this obstacle, this part of myself, and not let it define me.
I will not surrender to it, not give in to this dark part of myself.
I will----
Wait.
I remember those words.
I remember Father reading those words.
In Mein Kampf as he studied those words in SS-Junkerschule.
Hitler's words.
No.
NO!!
They can't be right!
Hitler can't be right!!
Can he?!?
Ehren shook her head in denial as her fists clenched and unclenched and tears trickled down her cheeks and finally raised her eyes to stare at the uniform once more with determination in her steely gaze.
I don't know what to believe anymore.
I don't know what to think about what I am, what I will become since I was lied to and tricked like Father was.
Save I know that I shall never become what I was before I saw under the mask you fooled Father with.
What you represent.
What you did to people like Claire.
I will find a way to overcome you. Somehow. Some day.
I swear that I shall.
The uniform gave no reply.
------------------------------
Ehren looked at herself in the mirror as she dressed for breakfast, smiling slightly at the girl she saw. White long-sleeved blouse with a minimum of frills and a black tie, calf length black skirt with white stockings and polished black ankle boots. She liked this appearance and it did suit her Teutonic features.
With that in mind she gathered her shoulder length wheat-blonde hair and pulled it through a keyboard-patterned 'scrunchy' that Claire had picked out for her to place it into a ponytail.
Alles in Ordnung.
She turned to look at her room, eyes flickering in automatic inspection. Even the uniform waiting for her got no more than a hate-filled scowl.
She walked over to the stand holding her dagger body on her bedside table, and checked it automatically. For a moment one thumb slowly traced the inscription on her blade.
'Meine Ehre Heisst Treue'
"My Honor is Loyalty."
Hitler's words to the SS.
Not blind loyalty, never blind loyalty to march in lockstep down into the Abyss.
My Honor is Faithfulness then.
Faithfulness to what?
What could she find for herself that was worthy to pledge her faithfulness to?
Her Big Sister Claire's love and acceptance?
Kasuyu's quiet support?
Mother's feelings for her?
Perhaps the family members she would meet today for the first time?
Did she dare open her heart to them to be wounded like Mother had accidentally wounded her when she thought that Ehren was a threat to Claire?
Did she dare trust them to guide her correctly rather than lie to her like Hitler had tricked Father and her?
But if not them, if not family, then who could she find to trust and support?
Ehren slowly slid her true body into her sheath and buckled it to her wrist, testing its action. It would be ready; she would be ready if called upon to act to defend her sister.
She could wait and watch and observe. Probe them and determine for herself what judgements to make. Mother had lived for three centuries and Kasuyu for over five.
She had time. She could be patient.
She would not be fooled again. Not when the price of that failure was...
She took a deep breath and forced bile down at the memory of some of the photographs from the Third Reich that she had seen when she researched the SS. Images that haunted the nightmares that she stoically endured night after night as part of her penance for the blood on her soul.
I will do my best, always, in all matters great and small.
I swore to Claire that I would be her little sister.
I swore to Mother while my eyes regrew and my body healed that I would not cause her pain by trying to destroy myself. Mother told me that she did not view me as irrevocably tainted by the crimes others committed and that she fought against.
I swore to myself that I would find a way to remove that stain from my soul that was not self-destructive. That would not cause pain for Mother and Claire and Kasuyu.
That I would never give in to that part of myself that I struggle with constantly.
The Grendel to my Beowulf. The Fafnir to my Siegfried. The Jörmungandr to my Thor.
I keep my word and oath.
Meine Ehre Heisst Treue.
I can believe this.
I can build upon this.
I can build something good and true to be proud of upon this.
I shall build something good and true that shall make Ehren du Chasteler proud of her accomplishment. That shall make Claire and Mother and Kasuyu proud of me.
I swear that I shall make it so.
Nodding to herself as she made that promise, she then squared her shoulders and stiffened her spine before opening her door to go forward and meet her aunts for the first time.
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