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@brennareinvented
She waits for my command 🥀🖤
Lilith
Born from the earth,
lived in God's garden,
An equal with man,
but not in man's mind.
Refused to lay under
cast out forever.
Fled from Eden,
to be with her brother
Lucifer Morningstar,
perhaps her lover?
Equality, freedom,
all she wanted
Banished, vilified
a Succubus, a Demon.
Reborn a new
amongst her brethren
Goddess Lilith,
Ave Regina Inferni
© DarkLordServant, December, 2023
The purest form of love is consideration. When someone thinks about how things would make you feel. Pays attention to detail. Holds you in regard when making decisions that could affect you. In any bond, how much they care about you can be found in how much they consider you
Best Wishes, Warmest Regards: The Story of Schitt’s Creek October 25, 2021
“My bounty is as boundless as the sea,
My love as deep; the more I give to thee,
The more I have, for both are infinite.”
—William Shakespeare
Romeo and Juliet
Act II ,Scene ii
Chocolate tasted of heaven, there was nothing more apparent than this one truth, as Juliet Aswell savored the sweet and bitter on her tongue. Plucking another strawberry from the dish she dipped it into the melting pot, licking her lips as the juice seeped over. The DeLacy house, for whom she worked, was stocked brim with delights; tokens of gratitude for the family’s patronage. Robert DeLacy was a fair tempered man, red cheeked and plump, who reveled in the bizarre and rare to come by. His home in the country, if you could call a small castle such, held treasure troves of exotic priceless wonders collecting dust behind gilded locks. It was once said that taking a tour of the DeLacy manor was like taking a trip to the darkest unmapped corners of the globe for only a small price.
“Get your finger out of that bowl before I whip you.” hissed the plump cook, looking more surly then Juliet cared for. She stepped away hiding the bit she had snuck behind her back.
“ I’m sorry, I couldn’t resist. I can’t remember the last time I tasted something so wonderful.” She might have bit her tongue had the cook not held such a look of contempt in her eye. “It’s only human to be susceptible to temptation, Marceline, even the bishop says so.” she said with mischievous innocence that she wore like a veil.
“ That’s the master’s property you’re taking, it’s not for the likes of you.” She warned brandishing her spoon like a crop, just waiting to catch Juliet within arms reach. It was no idle threat, her backend had the lasting marks to prove it.
“ His lordship doesn’t begrudge me these small pleasures. He thinks of me like another daughter, you know.” Her eyes remained fixed on the spoon as she rocked on her heels in search of a more worthy excuse.
“His lordship has a blind eye for sweet things, but he doesn’t forget when
payment is due. You wait and see. He’ll come collect from you.” Marceline looked grave, but Juliet dismissed her with a roll of the eye. Lord DeLacy had never been anything more than a charming uncle figure, full of wonderful stories and treats.
Her eyes stopped a tart that looked particularly delicious, but a loud crack startled her from her longing.
“I catch you in here again and I’ll do more then tan your hide. Now off with you, the mistress needs attending.”
Juliet turned about, longing to give all the delicious treats a try. However, she knew better than to push her luck, so she strolled out of the kitchen with her last stolen strawberry tucked between her teeth.
The house was in a tither over an approaching celebration. Sir De Lacy’s youngest child was coming of age and it was to be the event of the season. Yet among the fuss and noise of preparation, the birthday girl was nowhere to be seen.
Plucking a flower from a delicate arrangement, Juliet dodged her way through the busy house out into the garden where she knew Josseline to be hiding. Tucked away in a quiet corner out of sight, she sat, clutching a worn bit of paper between her fingers.
“Careful, you’re likely to get wrinkles looking so glum.” Juliet grinned holding the flower out for her to take. Startled Josseline accepted the flower and slowly spun it in her free hand.
“ Do you ever do anything besides cause trouble? It’s a wonder how you manage to parade around with such an innocent look, yet leave so much disaster in your wake.”
“I must have been born lucky” she said sitting across with her ankles stretched out.
“I’m sure luck is not the word I'd use.” Jossline smiled “Where have you been? I’ve been waiting over an hour for you.”
She tried to look cross but the afternoon sun played a strange trick of the light against her features, making her all the more beautiful. At any given time most would say that the two girls could have been twins, often mistaking one for the other during quick glances or rushed moments. However, seeing her now with the colors of late afternoon painting over her doll like complexion it was becoming increasingly apparent just how far they had come.
Josseline was carelessly beautiful, as if a star had fallen straight out of the sky and landed gracefully in the garden, prettier than any rose. Juliet’s own looks were far from average but her skin held the fickle promise of youth. Despite this she never once envied Josseline. Perhaps it came from knowing one's place in the world.
“I think you ought to be thanking me. I risked my life testing the pudding for poison earlier. If that's not devotion I don't know what is.”
“And?”
“Well unless you have a condition that doesn't allow for too much sugar I can confidently say that you are safe for now.” Josseline’s expression broke first and the pair burst out into a fit of laughter.
“Good, I’m pleased that one storm has passed. Now if only you could do something about my more immediate problem.” She sighed.
“ You’re not speaking of Edmund are you, because we’ve been over this at least a dozen times. He’s a wart on the backside of a toad and not worth your affection“ Juliet scoffed.
For a moment she caught a glimpse of a rather salty looking gardener whom she did not recognize. It wasn’t his poor man’s grin that caught her attention, it was the way he watched them so intensely through the bushes. It was unsettling.
“Yes, so you’ve said at least a dozen times, but that doesn’t change the way my heart feels.” Josseline said taking her hand, distracting her from the curious old man.
“The heart lies, often. It’s up to us, reasonable women, to use the brain God gave us to tell the difference.” Juliet snapped pulling her hand away.
When Josseline didn’t speak she amended her tone with a touch more softness.
“Alright then, what does dear Edmond have to say.” Juliet asked as she reached for the letter but it remained tightly clutched in Josseline’s fingers.
“Only that he looks forward to my party and that he has business to discuss with father.” her cheeks flushed. Juliet felt a dry burning sense of spite rise in the back of her throat, though she held tight to her composure. Business with Lord DeLacy could have meant a thousand different things, but there was only one that mattered to her.
“Do you think he means to ask for your hand?” Juliet asked stoically keeping her eye firmly fixed on the strange old man trimming the bushes.
“ I don’t know. I suppose it could be about his trading venture to The Gulf of Guinea this November, but why mention it? When a man says he must speak to your father on business, what more could he mean? I don't know what to think anymore.”
The old gardener, sensing her gaze, looked up from his trimmings and waved. There was an unease about the way he smiled that forced Juliet to her feet.
“Well if that is how it is to be then we must have you looking your best, come now. Up. The whole house is in a state and as mistress it’s your responsibility to make sure everything is in order.” She extended her hand with a small reassuring smile.
Edmund was not a man whom she would have chosen for Josseline; he was aloof, arrogant, and his head remained planted firmly up his own rear. Still it was not her opinion that mattered and that bothered Juliet to no end.
***
Josseline’s room was small in comparison to many other rooms in the grand house, but Juliet had always found it cosy. The exotic decorations brought from the orient gave it a mystical feel, like magic. Silks lined the windows and soft pelts covered the floor. As a child she had always been safe here, avoiding chores, or hiding from the other servants.
“Shall we find something for you to wear?” Juliet asked throwing wide the wardrobe as her friend sat mournfully against the bed. She had decided long ago that marriage was not for her. There was too much fuss involved with maintaining a husband and the thought of childbirth mortified her.
“I’ve already decided on the green. Father says it’s his favorite.”
“I didn’t realize it was your father’s birthday. No, I think the blue suits you far better.” Juliet held the dress out for her to try.
“You only say that because it’s your favorite.” she bite back a smile.
“--And because you always look so darling in it. Now put it on.” Juliet insisted, tugging her hand until she stood.
“No, I think not.” She pushed the dress back toward her. “You should be the one to wear it. It brings out the color in your eyes. Turn round, I’ll unlace you.”
“Very funny, you know I can’t. What would the other staff say if they saw me running about in this? Not to mention what a strange girl I’ll seem to the guests. Serving them appetizers while pretending to make conversation.”
“Good thing you won't be pretending. Now turn.” Josseline nudged her shoulder and spun her around. “It’s my party and I will have you in attendance. ”
“Joss—“
“Hush and I don’t want another word about it.”
Josseline’s delicate fingers began to unlace the stitched back of Juliet’s clothes, letting them fall to the floor. Together they worked to slide the beautiful dress on.
“Stand straight.” she ordered yanking the corset tight.
“How do you bare it. It feels as though my inside are about to be squeezed out through my eyes.” Juliet gasped gripping the mirror for support.
“Trust me, what I wouldn’t give for a day in your clothes.” Juliet’s spine tingled as Josseline’s fingers made quick work once more of the stitching. “There.”
She pulled the bun and bonnet from Juliet’s hair allowing it to tumbled to her shoulders. Together they looked in the mirror at a strange young woman who longed to exist.
“I can’t wear this.” Juliet whispered tracing the lace at her breast. Her friend’s chin rested fondly on her shoulder.
“ If not this then what will you be wearing when my brother arrives, nothing?” It was Josseline's turn to look impish.
Isaac De Lacy was the elder child of Robert and something of a disappointment in his father’s eyes. He lacked a keen eye for business and the rigor for adventure; things that made a true DeLacy according to his lordship. Isaac was the sort of boy who indulged in the beauty all around and that was what made him extraordinarily exceptional in Juliet’s eyes.
“Isaac is coming? You never said—“ she murmured.
“Father only just told me today. It’s exciting isn’t it? We’ll all be together again.” Josseline beamed.
***
A storm of nervous excitement brewed through the house as guests began to arrive. Servants scurried around taking coats and directing them to the main parlor. Among the guests Juliet stood out as foreign, while unrecognizable to the servants. Weaving her way through the throng of people her thoughts spun in anxious circles until she was dizzy from the noise, so dizzy in fact that she walked directly into his lordship.
“Sorry—I was…”
“--Distracted again are we. I dare say, I’m not surprised with how much fuss is going into this party.” DeLacy said. He was a notorious busybody, fawning over gossip; particularly the bits about himself, however this evening he was more distracted than usual, as though he too could not keep his mind on the party.
“--Hired an additional five hands for the evening just to keep up.” He mused, the usual jolliness gone from his cheeks. “I must confess I was a bit turned around myself. I thought you were my daughter for a moment in that dress. Have you seen my Josseline ? I needed a word.”
He fidgeted.
“No sir, I was just looking for her myself. Should I pass the message along?” she asked trying not to pick at the lace of her dress. It was so dreadfully itchy.
“No, no. It’s quite alright. I’ve got business to attend to, don’t let me keep you.” He excused himself and teetered away.
Juliet meandered on, seeking out more strawberries but, instead she found herself awkwardly standing in the parlor as guests danced by. Careful to skirt around the floor she made her way to a distant corner avoiding eye contact with anyone looking to start a conversation as she went. Anxious, she looked around for any sign of her friend.
“I hate parties. Scouring the kitchen sink with Marceline would have been more fun”, she thought bitterly.
“You seem to be looking for someone, perhaps I could help?” To Juliet’s surprise Isaac stood smiling back at her. He was short in stature, barely taller than her, thin with mousey brown hair that always held flecks of paint speckled around the top. His eyes were warm and his heart was kind, but it had been years since they had last spoken and he seemed more weary than she remembered.
“You look rather sullen standing in your lone corner” he teased. “How about a dance?”
Juliet looked around at the other ladies prancing about like show ponies or else squawking to one another about their proposal prospects.
“That’s quite alright, thanks,” She said “ And I’m not sullen, I’ve just got a lot on my mind” “What could possibly weigh so heavily?” he asked.
“Well for starters I’d like to know how many birds she could fit in that hair should she try. I’ve been trying to work it out for the better part of the night. It must be at least twelve.” she quipped. Her cheeks flushed when Isaac looked taken back. It was unbecoming of a young women to have such a sharp tongue, yet she persisted despite the trouble it brought down on her. Thankfully Isaac began to laugh and they slipped into an ease with one another. It wasn’t old times, but the fondness was there. Juliet could feel his eyes on her in a way that set her nerves on edge. Isaac was no prince, but he was the sort of young man who any woman could enjoy happily ever after with. Any women, except Juliet.
“ Your father seems to be in a peculiar mood this afternoon,” She changed the subject away from her own misgivings about the party.
“Did he? I hadn’t notice. I try to avoid him nearly as much as possible these days.”
“That Bad? What brought you back? I hope you’re not giving up on painting, you’re too good.” She frowned. Isaac’s eye for beauty was no secret among the court, in fact it was highly desired. Though DeLacy did not approve he nurtured his son’s gift through lesson and travel. Isaac stepped in closer as if to tell a secret.
“Art is not something that you can just give up. It’s like air or water. Unfortunately you can’t live on air or water alone. Father has offered me a fair compromise that suits both of our desires and I mean to take him up on it.”
“If it suits you so well then why do you sound so disappointed.” She noted the way his shoulders fell and the brass of his button fade. He was certainly more weary than she remembered.
“I’m to be a cartographer for John’s Company, which is an excellent opportunity if father weren’t so--” Isaac paused as Juliet gaze wandered.
Jossline emerged arm and arm with a man who’s face looked permanently snobbish.
“--my sister seems to have contracted a rather an unfortunately growth. Shame, she was so pretty.” Juliet gave him a sharp nudge, but grinned just the same.
“We call it Edmund” she waved “Don't worry you'll get use to the smell”
“Juliet, I must ask you something.” he whispered, but Juliet’s payed him no attention.
The gardener who had spied upon them earlier stood in the exact spot where Josseline had been just a moment before. He spoke anxiously to another man dressed in company colors, who held angry sneer stretched across his sea worn face. For a moment Juliet thought the company man might strike the elderly gardener, but instead the two went their separate ways as if they had never met.
“I’m sorry, what were you saying Isaac?” She said turning back to find him pink faced.
“I wanted to know--”
“I see you two have wasted no time catching up.” Josseline threw her arms around her brother’s neck and greeted him with a peck on the cheek.
“There’s not much to tell, but I see you have much to share” Isaac held out his hand for Edmund to take. “Isaac DeLacy”
“Edmond Ashley, Lieutenant of the HMS Dreadnought” he said.
Juliet tried to hide a snicker.
“Aren’t you the help?” Edmond asked without bothering to look directly at her. It seemed the sleeve of his coat was more interesting.
“Darling, this is my dear friend--” Edmond held up his hand.
“My love, as much as I adore your sense of charity, putting a pig in a dress doesn’t make it any less a pig.” He held out an empty champagne glass. “Leave the civilized conversation to the civilized people and fetch us more to drink.”
Juliet took the glass as her cheeks grew rosie. Josseline nor Isaac spoke, they merely looked away in shame, for this was the way of the world and she had been foolish enough to believe she could ever be count their equal.
Anger fueled by humiliation coiled in the pit of her stomach as she fumed from the parlor. Hot bitter tears stung her eyes as she searched for a place far from onlookers, but the house was full to the brim with guests coming and going. A few guest loitered over an exceptionally dull portrait down an unusually quiet corridor. It took only the sound of a smashed flute to drive them away leaving Juliet blissfully alone in her silence. Hate slithered into the narrow hallway wrapping tightly around her lungs. If Josseline had never insisted she attend the party-- no, had she never fallen for Edmund Ashley this would have never happened.
“Be reasonable Barlow.” pleaded Robert DeLacy. The door to the study was shut firm, but she could hear Barlow’s growl as if it were right in her own ear. She approached the door, her curiosity momentarily distracting her from the ache in her chest.
“Reasonable? No, I think we’ve been more than reasonable. A man of business such as you ought to know better then to squelch on an arrangement. I will have my pay and I will have it now.”
“ I told you. It’s not here, but if you give me a bit more time--” There was a loud crash and a faint whimper. Forgetting her pride, Juliet turned to seek help, but blocking her way was the toothless gardener; pistol in hand, grinning he nudged her forward toward the study.
“ Capt’n don't like games, Bob.” yelled the gardener as he entered, giddy with excitement.
“I assure you I don't know what your talking about and in my home you will address me as Sir DeLacy” he croaked despite his face pressed down aginst his desk.
“I don't address no one by sir but the capt’n, now hand over what was promised and we’ll be on our way.” The company man called Balow released his lordship and cocked his pistol.
“Now there won't be any need of that Barlow. We’re dealin with a gentleman type and gentleman types always see reason. You just gotta find the right parts to poke, see.”
From his waist coat the gardener pulled a dirk and in one sharp motion sliced a thin line across Juliet's collar. She yelped clutching at where he had cut her. Blood dripped along her dress but the wound was superficial, she had worse scrapped knees as a child. She could see in Delacy’s eye that for a moment he had believed she was Josseline.
“Please, not my daughter” he said.
“Daughter aye, Bob?”
“She’s innocent. You’ll get what you’re owed. All you have to do is let her walk out of here.” His eyes did not waver from her face. Juliet stealed herself. The message was clear; remain silent. “There are at least a dozen of the Queen’s naval officers in attendance tonight---”
“No, No. That aint how this works Bob. Ye don’t get to make new terms once the deal’s been struck. See, ye made a promise and ye goin’ keep that promise, if you ever want to see ye girl again.” He gave another flick and a second red line crossed the first, creating a brilliant red “x” against her pale skin.
Robert’s face grew cold as he glared at the men who stood before him.
“You will not take my daughter.” he warned.
“ We might not have the numbers, but we’ve got enough explosives to level this place.” Barlow grunted as the old gardener practically danced with excitement. DeLacy sat down, losing all his wind.
“Okay bob, this how it’s go’n be. Me and him are go’n walk out of here nice like, with the lady. You bring what’s owed us to Nassau by september and you get the girl back no worse for wear.” Pipped the Gardener. Juliet shook her head.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Oh I think you are love, now walk or my mate will blow your brains against that lovely wall.” He gave her a nudge back toward the door.
“Please don’t fear my darling” called Sir De Lacy as Juliet was escorted out of the room. “I will send every ship I have. This will all be over soon, I swear it. Stay strong and give nothing away.” were his last words.
II. Nightengale
Death was a frightening thing. It loomed like a shadow and lingered like a kiss. The threat of death had a way of putting that which might otherwise be senseless into a tightly wrapped package of perspective, and to Juliet that prospect was exhilarating. She had never felt more alive as she was swept away by the tide. It felt as though she had been struck by lightning, every nerve was raw and every sense awake. Her fear of death made her acutely aware of everything around her for once she felt truly alive.
“Leave that scrawny thing and come have a go love.” beckoned a woman who looked well beyond her prime. The rouse at her cheeks aged her and the torn stockings she flashed made Juliet ill at ease. She might have given her a shilling just to fetch new stockings and perhaps a decent supper.
“The port was a place of business and nothing more,” she recalled Isaac's words to her on one occasion. “-no matter how questionable that business might be”
She had never been privy to the port before, even on the rare occasion that Josseline accompanied her father. Servants had little business dealing with sailors and in truth, Juliet had always been comforted by that fact. Though perhaps if she had been allowed to go she might have steered her friend clear of dear Edmund.
“Walk faster.” Barlow grunted and yanked her arm. “Brooks said he’d take care of this, so where the hell is he?”
She struggle to keep pace with their long quick strides in her blue dress and heeled boots. If she had only remembered herself when Josseline persisted then she might not have found herself in such a difficult place.
“If not you, then Josseline.” she thought with a mixture of guilt and grief.
“Brooks ain’t never been much for planning. Don’t think him knows where to be”
They turned down a narrow alley tucked between a tanner and a bakery. Above them a mother pulled shut the window and blew out the light. The old gardner pulled his flintlock pistol from his trousers and cocked it.
“I think we’re on our own.” he grinned.
Barlow grabbed the barrel and pushed the pistol out of sight. “Put that away. We start shooting and the whole damn navy will be on us like flies on shit.”
“No one said nothing about shooting no one. All we do is commandeer one of them ships, a little one, s’nothin to it”
“The captain said no” Barlow hissed letting go of Juliet’s arm for the first time since they had fled the manner.
He rubbed his hand over the stubble of his shaved head showing the pair of pistols holstered in his belt. Behind her the alley was was clear to the street and one shot from a pistol was certain to draw unwanted attention. They’d be forced to flee empty handed and she could make her escape. It wasn’t much of a plan, but it was something.
With no time to deliberate she lunged forward, seized hold of the pistol stock, and gave it a sharp yank. As the gun pulled free Barlow caught her by wrist with one hand and grabbed her by the throat with the other. She bared her teeth with a wild snarl.
“You try that again and I will crush your windpipe with my bare hands.”
She could smell the rot of his breath as she tried to peel his fingers from her throat, but his grip was too tight. Spots of purple and black colored her vision as she struggled against his strength. She kicked at his leg and made a swiped at his face.
“Arg!” Barlow dropped her and clutched his eye, where blood dripped from three dark red lines across his face.
The old gardener began to cackle. “Never seen no one get the drop on him before.”
Barlow made to grab at Juliet again, but he raised his pistol with another cackle of delight.
” Oh let the girl go, she knows better now, don’t you Miss?”
She glanced at him and he took it as a sign of gratitude.
“This was a mistake. I say we cut our losses and be done with her. The captain has no use for prisoners.” Barlow whipped the blood away with the sleeve of his coat.
“That’s for the Cap’n to decide and I say going back empty handed is far worse than not going back at all.” The old gardener knelt down and brushed his fingers over the still bloody cross at Juliet’s collar. She was tempted to spit in his face, but her sore throat prevented it.
“She’ll be good, just gotta find the right parts to poke see?” He grinned his wide toothless grin “You got a pretty friend, I knows because I saw you together.”
She glared venomously up at him
“You’re going to behave, cause if you ain’t----” he touched a few strands of hair that had fallen loose. “There’s nothing stop’n him and me going back there and taken what we want, do we have an’ understand’n ?”
His voice was so calm and gentle, but his words cut right through her. She smacked his hand away.
“Short of burning down the wharf, there’s no way out of here. Someone will see you and you’ll be hanged men before dawn.” she rasped.
DeLacy would come for her as promised and she would enjoy watching both men swing.
“Burn the wharf? Now that’s an idea.” he said a mad grin spread across his slack skin. “Barlow, take the girl for a walk and I’ll take care of the rest.”
Barlow hoisted Juliet to her feet by the back of her dress, like a cat might a kitten, and shoved her out into light of the boardwalk. Flipping up the collar of his company coat he draped his thick arm around her shoulders. The idea was simple; just another drunken sailor and his girl.
They had gone no more than a few blocks when a light appeared inside the bakery. It started small, barely noticeable beyond the shop window.
Juliet gasped when she realized what the old man had done. She tried to turn back, but Barlow held her tight to his side. Smoke billowed from the door as the fire slipped between the cracks licking the only way out.
“Get in” Barlow pointed to a skiff roped alongside the dock.
“You both are utterly mad! There’s a family in that house. You can’t just--” Juliet brought her hands to her mouth as she watched the fire grow.
“I’m not warning you again” he shoved her into the skiff.
He kicked off from the dock, grabbed the oars, and began to row.
“You’re just going to leave your friend then?” she said. There was no love between thieves and his marred glare only confirmed it.
Within moments the flames grew and spread, the thatched roof tops of the neighboring buildings ignited one by one. Voices and bells began to ring as the people were pulled from their beds. Prostitutes and Tavern keepers ran alongside naval officers to lend aid, but the fire had grown monstrous fueled by strong winds. In the shadow reflected from the light she could make out a sole figure making his way through the current of people rushing to help. She watched as he too slipped into a skiff and began to row out to meet them. Juliet eyes were transfixed on the fire that grew great, until it seemed to have engulfed the whole of London.
When she finally pried her gaze away to look round she found that they nearly reached a bend in the river. Anchored down in an inlet out of sight of the docks was a ship of considerable size. It’s sails were Persian blue and it’s hull was a dark and brilliant hew that faded into it’s underbelly. Even in the dim moonlight this ship was unlike any that made up the British fleet. It flew the company colors: a white flag with St. George’s Cross and a series of red stripes across its width.
“Voss, you first, then the girl.” Barlow yelled to the old man who had already grabbed hold of the thick netting and began to scurry up the side.
”Climb” Barlow barked nearly shoving her into the water.
The slack net made the climb up the side difficult and the spray of seawater left her fingers frozen to the ropes. When she was within arms reach a rough hand took hold of her and pulled her up over the side with a thud.
She had expected all eyes on her, but instead the crew seemed to careless that she was there. It was Barlow and the old gardener they seemed interested in.
“You had one task to complete Barlow! One! For the love of Michael what the hell do you call that.” a crewman yelled.
“Piss off Miss Molly. I did what I was asked. ‘Lacy didn’t have it. So Vossler in his genius took the girl.You got a problem take it up with him”
A few of the crew glanced indifferently her way. They were certainly not what she expected; groups of different faces not one nation among them, male and female alike, and all looked grave.
“Serves him right” Juliet thought as she rose to her feet.
“We were suppose to be in and out. Now the whole damned English navy will be at our back.”
“I thought of that” said Vossler, who seemed utterly at ease. “I lit the bakery see. They’ll never know we were here. Didn’ expect it to be so big, but sometimes you just get lucky.” He snickered.
“Enough. Take the girl below and raise anchor. This ship should already be underway.” barked a grizzly man who Juliet could only assume was the captain. Unlike the crew he wore a well tailored jacket that complemented his silver beard, which held braided beads tastefully woven into it. His face looked as though it had been carved from stone, like there had never been a single happy day in his entire life. She very nearly pitied him. He gazed down past his crooked nose at her, the lifelessness in his expression was unnerving.
Juliet had taken two steps toward him when yet again she was yanked round and ushered into the depths of the ship. The hull was bleak and damp with walls that were seeped in brine. The air was choked with the tainted scent of copper and the only light came from the dim flicker of smokey lanterns.
As they descended deeper into the bowels of the ship she could feel her window of escape closing like a noose around her own neck. Digging her heels in she refused to be moved any further. She jerked her arm from the dark crewmen who guided her and turned to run back toward the light of the deck. The crewmen caught the tail of Josseline’s dress and Juliet heard the fine silk of rip,exposing her thigh. Unlike Barlow and Vossler, he had no interest in harm or threats, he seemed unsurprised by her fight and simply hoisted her, kicking, over his massive shoulders. He carried her down deeper past the kitchen, below the hammocks, into the brig where supplies and cargo were stacked tall and secured with rope. They teetered dangerously side to side as the ship lurched forward. There was only a single cell which sat apart from the rest. By the smell and the hay inside it was intended for livestock. The crewmen set her down gently and turned to leave.
“Wait” she said as he locked the bars. She wanted to beg him to let her go, but the look of pity in his gentle brown eyes spoke volumes and then he was gone.
Juliet sat motionless for a long time, her eyes shut tight. She had never been on a ship before and the pitch and roll ravaged her insides. It took all the strength of mind she had not to vomit. There in the dark she she felt the same slithering hatred coil up around her ankles and hiss in her ear. They would regret bringing her here it said. Juliet had never been so utterly alone in her life—with only her thoughts for company. She wanted to scream and fight. She wanted to kick and claw. She wanted to feel in control, but there was only helplessness. She wished for Edmund to take her place and for Josseline to cry over the loss of him. She found herself wondering whether or not they were having a laugh at her expense. Had Isaac even noticed she was missing?
Hot tears burned angry streaks down her flushed cheeks. There wasn’t anyone to hear her anger or care, so it remained bottled deep inside her where no one else would see. She curled herself up in the corner, with hay tucked around for warmth and eventually she drifted off into a troubled sleep.
Night had come although it made no difference deep in the dark belly of the ship. Above there was a stillness, no shouting or stomp of feet, just the gentle crash of waves. Her eyes could not make out any detail though she had an uncomfortable sense that she was not alone. She could feel someone's eyes on her as if there was a face just beyond the blackness.
“Hello.” she called. There was no reply. She tucked her legs beneath the torn blue dress, she was being ridiculous. Of course there was no one watching her. The crew was asleep or whatever it was that sailors did aboard ships. Still the hair on her neck prickled. Juliet closed her eyes and focused on her breath, four in and four out, until her fear ebbed. She was too exhausted to sleep and it was this fog that prevented her notice.
It began soft, masked by the pitch and roll of the ship: a perfect lament. It wasn’t until a unmistakable cry pierced through the crashing water that she noticed it at all. It was music. This was not the lively sound of an orchestra or the deep rhythm of drums. It was a painful screech, like the sound of a heart string being torn in the night. It was Iridescent against the sky.
Juliet stood at the bars listening, straining to hear every note. It haunted her more than the face in the dark, but she felt as though she might drown should the song ever come to an end. It was such a silly thing to cling to, but she could not turn away.
xxx
Two days had passed. Maybe more, but with no light she only had the noise above to keep track. The constant rocking and smell of the ship made her head spin, so all Juliet could do was close her eyes and lean against the cool metal of the bars and wait. Her stomach ached for food but even more so for water. Her chapped lips burned each time she licked them. She was deep in a day dream when she heard a noise from beyond where she could see.
“Who’s there!” she pulled herself to her feet careful to wrap the torn bit of dress round her bare leg. When there was no answer she decided it must have been a large rat and pressed her face against the bars once more. From beyond the cargo a mop of sandy blonde hair appeared
“Captain says you need to eat.” said a fair haired boy no older than fourteen. The only bit of clothing he wore was a pair of knee high trousers with twine tied about his waste to keep them up. Perhaps she should have turned away at his lack of modesty, after all she was pretending to be a lady, but Juliet had grown up alongside stable boys so it was nothing she hadn’t glimpsed before and she was much too tired to care about appearances.
“Do you have water?” she asked rising to her feet.
“Yes Ma’am”
“Bring it here then.”
She could feel him looking at her they way the other boys of the house did, though he was far more earnest, brazen even.
“It’s rude to stare, you know.” She said taking the tin cup from his hand.
“Sorry, Ma’am.” he blushed “It’s just that you don’t look like the others.”
Juliet raised an eyebrow indignantly, but gulped the water down just the same. She reminded herself never to take water for granted again.
“I suppose you mean women?” Now that he was closer she could see that he was shoulder height with bright lapis eyes. His face was smudged with dirt and his skin peeled in places where it had grown too tan.
“Naw I’ve seen plenty of them, just rich folk” He held out the bread to her. He watched her with a curiosity that made Juliet feel as though she were under a microscope. She chose to ignore his subtle inquiry and took a bite of bread.
“Ack!” She immediately spat it out as it touched her tongue. The bread was hard as a stone, but that wasn’t why she had gagged. Inside the bread teamed with weevils. She dropped the bit to the floor revolted.
“What’s the matter? They ain’t so bad once you get use to it move’n. Good for ya actually.” He asked picking it up through the bars.
“I’m not eating that.” She said trying to spit the taste out of her mouth. Her urge to vomit returned and she had to steady herself.
“I know it’s not what you’re use to, but you gotta eat. This ain’t the kinda place you wanna be weak in, miss” he offered her the bread once more.
“What’s your name” Juliet asked impatiently. She found his earnestness irritating, but if he was anything like the other boys it was manageable.
“Tucker, ma’am. Pleased to do business with you.” He stuck out his hand to shake with a big grin.
She looked at his hand, but didn’t take it. Instead she approached the bars, a charming sweet smile on her face.
“Tucker, how would you like to hear a story?” she cooed.
“That could be fun, I’d like that--what’cha got?”
“I’ll tell you what, bring me water and something to eat that doesn’t have bugs in it, and I’ll tell you all about my affair with the Prince of Denmark.”
Tucker thought for a moment before he moved toward a crate that sat just beyond arms reach and pried it open.
“Don’t tell nobody I’m doing this. If the crew knew they’d tie me to the main mast and cut me open so the buzzards can pick at my insides.” He reached in and pulled out not one but three large apples.
“And the water?” she asked
“Tell me the story first and I’ll see what I can do.”
She was in no place to argue so she took a seat and bit into one of the apples.
“ So a few years ago I met the Prince of Denmark—Hamlet he was called, and he was very sad because his father had passed away” Juliet began.
“If his father passed away doesn’t that make him the King of Denmark?” Tucker asked skeptically.
“Do you want to hear the story or don’t you?” She said impatiently. Storytelling had always been Josseline’s gift, not her’s. When she told a story Juliet hung on every word as if the world around her suddenly became some place entirely different. Hamlet had been her favorite. She had made Josseline read it so many times that she could recite nearly every line of the play by heart. Juliet did not hold the same mastery over words as her friend but the tale she spun captured his attention and the parts which she forgot were filled in with her own invention.
“As he stood in front of his uncle he shouted--” She paused. The look of pure agony on Tucker’s face was nearly worth the trouble.
“What! What did he shout?” Tucker clutched his pant leg tight in his fist.
“Sorry, I can’t seem to remember. I’m feeling a bit weak. If I had some more water perhaps I could go on, but I think it better I rest for a bit.”
“Okay hold that thought! I’ll see what I can do.” The boy jumped to his feet and darted off without another word.
Juliet sat back in the hay, pleased with herself. He was as easy to handle as the stable boys back home. She took a bite of apple and thought of Josseline. She could feel the smile fall from her lips.
A Secret Love - Trailer - You kind of broke the rules your whole life. Yes, I have. That’s why I’m happy. No regrets. I’d do it all over again.
My uncles have been together since before I was born. But I didn’t know they were a couple until I was a junior in high school. My family just. Never talked about it. My grandpa didn’t approve, so Mike just never came around. I knew they lived together, but I’d only been to their place once when I was like 4. And no one ever talked about it. They didn’t talk about Mike. He didn’t come to birthdays and holidays. Then in 2015, they got married because for the first time in their lives, they could. Now Mike comes to Christmas. He celebrates Thanksgiving with us. I see him at Easter. He comments on my Facebook pictures and sends me birthday cards with his name signed right next to his husband’s. We get on so well, and I feel robbed of 17 years of hearing his stories. I don’t blame them. I understand they were scared and hurt. They kept their love in the shadows for almost 2 decades with family. Even though everyone but my sister and I knew. They still had to keep to the shadows. And that breaks my heart.
My great aunt was with her partner since long before I was born. I never knew they were a couple until after they’d both died. Nobody ever talked about it. They were together for decades, but they’re not mentioned in each other’s obituaries and they’re buried in separate states. It’s like their whole relationship was erased from history. How horrible is that?
Do not forget what our LGBTQIA+ elders went through to get us to where we are today.
My grandma was with her partner jean for like 30 years and yeah i (as a kid) didn’t think anything of it i was just like yeah thats grandma and her butch woodworking roommate (jean was also like family to me i just accepted it) and nobody in my family told me they were gay? My mom never told me because she didn’t support it and when we talked about it later got angry and said she believed it was just to get back at my grandpa after their divorce (a 30 yr relationship?? You’re going to try to tell me my grandma’s 30 year relationship with another woman was just a ploy to tick off my grandpa??)
Anyway RESPECT for the LGBT icons that have come before us because they face so much uncertainty and may not have had support from their own families but they paved the way for us!!
I’m about 95% certain that my grandmother was a closeted lesbian her entire life. Her girlfriend was always at the house, I thought she lived there frankly. Her girlfriend never married. My grandmother married a much older man and my gut says he was also gay and they married to cover for one another, and had one kid (my mom – thankfully or I wouldn’t be here!) to keep up the ruse. I know my grandmother came from a family that did arranged marriages and she eloped with my grandfather to avoid that.
This never dawned on me till I started reviewing old photos – there were more photos of my grandmother with her girlfriend, whom she was with since she was a teenager, than with her husband, her daughter (my mom) or me. COMBINED.
I think my mom knew but just kind of tried to pretend it wasn’t a thing, but I do remember my mom once saying how much my grandmother loved Margie, her girlfriend.
Also odd – I found my grandfather’s funeral book and there was a paper in it for people to sign in if they were attending the funeral. There was a “family” column and a “friends” column. Margie signed under family. Every other name was blood family except hers.
Margie died less than a month after my grandmother did. My grandmother had cancer, but to my knowledge there was nothing wrong with Margie.
I wish my grandma was still here. She died when I was 14 and wish I could have told her that she – and Margie – have all of my love and support. I also wish I’d known Margie better. I’m an only child and since she never married she probably saw me as a granddaughter. I know she loved me and used to crochet clothes for my dolls but how sad she felt could never tell me all of these things or treat me as a real granddaughter. My dad’s mom died before I was born I’d have loved to have two grandmas! Anytime I visit my grandma’s grave now, I visit Margie. She’s in the next section over. I just hope she knows I think of her as my grandma too. 💜💙💚💛🧡
Really though, the shit Xena got away with is amazing.
Do you mean the kissing?
Consistently talking about (their) love being worth dying for?
The frequent statements that they love each other?
The intimate cuddling?
The sexy dancing?
The raising a child together?
The regular statements that they are soulmates?
Other characters referring to them as girlfriends/lovers/etc?
yes. all are valid and i just really honestly can’t believe the stuff they said/implied or just put on the screen. CRAZY!!!!!!
they even had the “I WILL FIND YOU IN EVERY LIFETIME, IN EVERY INCARNATION, NOTHING CAN KEEP US APART, NOT EVEN DEATH” trope. this show, the wlw mothership. Nay, Grandmo-, NAY, GREAT GRAND DAME MOTHERSHIP,- the ship that launched a THOUSAND ships– Xena: Warrior Princess– is iconic and I am forever grateful. <3
Your Brain In Love, more on @tobeagenius
happy valentines you bunch of nerds
#a fine line 😭😭😭 shortest fic to fuk me up
Agreed. This was so good I cried several times for several different reasons.
Baku-babe, have you read “The secret’s in the telling” because it’s my top favorite
you sure are
Young Frankenstein (1974) dir. by Mel Brooks
booty.
Me: ME??? a TYPE? nooo I don’t have a “type” why would you ... think that???
Also me:...😍😍😍
I saw a similar thing in a screenshot on Reddit the other day.
THIS IS THE MOST ACCURATE IM CRYING
The funny thing about this post is that Carolina is a big time SwanQueen shipper and her tweet was literally about SwanQueen.