RVA: The Red Vixen at Sea, Part Nine
Aug. 12th, 2016 03:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalShe ran as fast as she was able, her stomach churning. Halfway back to the point on the beach where Windskimmer had been anchored, she paused and vomited up her lunch, then lurched unsteadily in pursuit of Rolas.
Fortunately he’d also been slowed down. Evidentially his early display of fitness climbing the stairs had been a bit of a ruse, for up ahead she saw him pause, sway unsteadily, then drop to his knees. Then he pushed himself up and began a loping crawl toward his goal, finally rising unsteadily to stumble along the beach.
Melanie gritted her teeth, tasting bile in her mouth, and forced herself to run faster, arriving just in time as Rolas ran into the surf in pursuit of the sailboat. She grabbed his wrist, trying to draw him back as he continued to head into the waves, foam breaking over his knees.
“Are you out of your mind?!” she screamed at him as Rolas dragged her with him into the bone cold water.
“It’s heading towards the reef!” he shouted back, trying to twist out of her grip. “The coral will rip through the pontoons!”
“You can’t swim after it! If the tide drags you over the coral you’ll be ripped apart!”
“Let go, damn you!” He succeeded in pulling free, so intent on his boat he seemingly didn’t care about the suicidal idea of him swimming into the waves in his current condition. As he began to run into the water, Melanie leaped forward and tackled him around the waist. They both fell face forward into the water, sand and salty water filling their mouths and nostrils as they were dragged further into the surf by the tides. Melanie wrapped her arms around Rolas’ chest and biceps, and managed to dig her feet into the sand, pushing backwards until she was able to get her head above the water and gasp for air. Rolas thrashed in her grip, sputtering and trying to break free. “Let go!” he screamed again. “I’ve got to save her!”
“It’s too late, Rolas! Look!”
Windskimmer bobbed in the surf. For a moment it looked like it might actually catch a lucky wave and cross the barrier successfully, but the surge it was riding crashed against the reef, dropping the boat onto it with a sickening crunch. Rolas cried out incoherently as the pontoons tore open and began to fill with water. As they watched, the boat slid sideways off the reef, foundering quickly. In less than a minute the waves were rising over the cabin, and soon it sank completely, coming to rest in about five meters of water, only the top of the mast still visible.
Melanie pushed herself to her feet, trying to pull Rolas out of the surf. “Come on, Rolas. There’s nothing you can do now. Do you want to freeze in this water?”
“My boat,” he muttered, finally turning around to crawl out of the surf on his hands knees. He turned around once again to face the ocean, kneeling in the sand, shoulders shaking. Then to Melanie’s shock, he let out a wracking cry and began to sob.
“Rolas,” she said uncertainly, kneeling down beside him and wrapping her arms around him as he continued to sob. “I know all our supplies were aboard her, but it's just a boat. You can get another one.”
“But it was my boat,” he repeated between sobs. “Mine!”
“You keep saying that, Rolas. What do you mean ‘my boat’? Why is it so important to you?” she demanded.
“You wouldn’t understand!” he shouted, chest heaving as he continued to cry.
Melanie grabbed his right paw in hers, turning around so she could look him in the face, their commitment bands clinking together. “Try me, Rolas. Trust me.”
He nodded, gulping twice as he tried to calm himself down, eyes red with tears and salt water. “Windskimmer was mine. Since the moment I was born, every morsel of food in my mouth, every scrap of clothing I wore, every toy, every tool, all of it was provided to me. I was the second child of two Noble parents, the son, not the daughter. I would never be the Heir, I would never have to work a day in my life. Even if I married out of the family I would still be some vixen’s husband and dependent on their charity. When I was deeded some land of my own to supervise and take the earnings from, it was with the knowledge that it was a gift, a responsibility that could be taken away the moment I stumbled and proved myself unworthy of it.
“So one I decided I wasn’t going to play that game. When I turned thirteen I opened a private bank account and I got myself a job shelving groceries in a town the next domaine over from ours. I told my family I was in a study group meeting after school. My father later told me they thought I was dating a young vixen. Either way it didn't matter, so long as they didn’t know I was working, getting my paws dirty. I was Rollie the grocery shelver, later Rollie the lorry driver, Rollie the carpenter’s assistant. Any job I could get I took, so I could earn money on my own. Until the day I turned sixteen and I had enough money to buy Windskimmer. My boat. Not a gift, not a charity, not a piece of Darktail Domain property that I was just using until someone else needed it. Mine. Something that I could do with as I pleased and could never been taken away. Mine.” He panted for several moments, out from breath from his weeping rant. A sharp fanged grin crossed his face, and he let a weak chuckle. “My parents were so furious when I had it delivered to our front portico.”
The proper Noble response to this would be to point out to Rolas what a silly waste of time his crusade against his caste was. Nobles didn’t get grubby like a Commoner in the fields, they led others and made sure all were provided for. But Melanie had never been a proper noble. Had not the Red Vixen been her own response to taking up the Noble responsibilities her brother Marl had shirked?
She gathered Rolas up in her arms, letting his head rest on her shoulder, petting the back of his head carefully, so as not to touch the lump there. “So that’s why you wanted me to sail with you so badly. You needed see my honest self, and show yours to me, so there would be no more secrets between us.”
“Yes,” he murmured into her shoulder.
“Were you afraid, I wonder, that I was merely another gift, granted in mere charity?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He sighed. “I’m so tired.”
She wanted nothing more than to lay down herself and sleep for approximately a thousand years. But she couldn’t yet. How did the finishing school joke go? Nobles get to sleep after the paperwork is done, and it’s never done. “Up, Rolas. Can’t sleep yet,” she urged.
“Why not?” he demanded churlishly.
“Rolas,” she said carefully. “How did your boat get in the water? It was a good five meters up from the shore, and I tied the anchor line around a tree.”
He looked at her blankly for a moment, then the same realization hit him. “We’re not the only ones here.” He came shakily to his feet, and together they headed over to the spot where Windskimmer had beached itself. The anchor line was still wrapped around the tree where she’d left it, but the end had been neatly cut. Further, there were several sets of footprints, none of the foxen, dug into the sand where at least three people had shoved the boat back into the water.
Melanie glanced down at the footprints. “There was a wazagan,” well, that would explain how they managed to push the boat so far, “maybe two humans, both barefoot, and… is that a kinis there?”
“Looks like it,” Rolas agreed, recognizing the felenoid footprint. The kinis were similar to foxen, in that they were the only other race in the Alliance that sported full pelts of fur, a necessity given the chill of their homeworld. “Fellow must be melting in this equatorial heat.” He scratched his chin in thought. “You said this world used to belong to a pirate. Bloody Margo, right?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “They have to be members of her crew that we missed, stuck here when Margo was captured. Were they on your boat when it hit the reef?”
“I didn’t see anybody on the deck when I was looking at it from up at the top of the island,” he said. “There aren’t any controls in the cabin, someone would have had to be at the wheel when they pushed off.”
“So they just it pushed it away to get rid of it. Either they have their own transportation off this island or they don’t care that they’re stuck here.” Melanie shivered slightly, despite the heat. “Just like we are.”
Fortunately he’d also been slowed down. Evidentially his early display of fitness climbing the stairs had been a bit of a ruse, for up ahead she saw him pause, sway unsteadily, then drop to his knees. Then he pushed himself up and began a loping crawl toward his goal, finally rising unsteadily to stumble along the beach.
Melanie gritted her teeth, tasting bile in her mouth, and forced herself to run faster, arriving just in time as Rolas ran into the surf in pursuit of the sailboat. She grabbed his wrist, trying to draw him back as he continued to head into the waves, foam breaking over his knees.
“Are you out of your mind?!” she screamed at him as Rolas dragged her with him into the bone cold water.
“It’s heading towards the reef!” he shouted back, trying to twist out of her grip. “The coral will rip through the pontoons!”
“You can’t swim after it! If the tide drags you over the coral you’ll be ripped apart!”
“Let go, damn you!” He succeeded in pulling free, so intent on his boat he seemingly didn’t care about the suicidal idea of him swimming into the waves in his current condition. As he began to run into the water, Melanie leaped forward and tackled him around the waist. They both fell face forward into the water, sand and salty water filling their mouths and nostrils as they were dragged further into the surf by the tides. Melanie wrapped her arms around Rolas’ chest and biceps, and managed to dig her feet into the sand, pushing backwards until she was able to get her head above the water and gasp for air. Rolas thrashed in her grip, sputtering and trying to break free. “Let go!” he screamed again. “I’ve got to save her!”
“It’s too late, Rolas! Look!”
Windskimmer bobbed in the surf. For a moment it looked like it might actually catch a lucky wave and cross the barrier successfully, but the surge it was riding crashed against the reef, dropping the boat onto it with a sickening crunch. Rolas cried out incoherently as the pontoons tore open and began to fill with water. As they watched, the boat slid sideways off the reef, foundering quickly. In less than a minute the waves were rising over the cabin, and soon it sank completely, coming to rest in about five meters of water, only the top of the mast still visible.
Melanie pushed herself to her feet, trying to pull Rolas out of the surf. “Come on, Rolas. There’s nothing you can do now. Do you want to freeze in this water?”
“My boat,” he muttered, finally turning around to crawl out of the surf on his hands knees. He turned around once again to face the ocean, kneeling in the sand, shoulders shaking. Then to Melanie’s shock, he let out a wracking cry and began to sob.
“Rolas,” she said uncertainly, kneeling down beside him and wrapping her arms around him as he continued to sob. “I know all our supplies were aboard her, but it's just a boat. You can get another one.”
“But it was my boat,” he repeated between sobs. “Mine!”
“You keep saying that, Rolas. What do you mean ‘my boat’? Why is it so important to you?” she demanded.
“You wouldn’t understand!” he shouted, chest heaving as he continued to cry.
Melanie grabbed his right paw in hers, turning around so she could look him in the face, their commitment bands clinking together. “Try me, Rolas. Trust me.”
He nodded, gulping twice as he tried to calm himself down, eyes red with tears and salt water. “Windskimmer was mine. Since the moment I was born, every morsel of food in my mouth, every scrap of clothing I wore, every toy, every tool, all of it was provided to me. I was the second child of two Noble parents, the son, not the daughter. I would never be the Heir, I would never have to work a day in my life. Even if I married out of the family I would still be some vixen’s husband and dependent on their charity. When I was deeded some land of my own to supervise and take the earnings from, it was with the knowledge that it was a gift, a responsibility that could be taken away the moment I stumbled and proved myself unworthy of it.
“So one I decided I wasn’t going to play that game. When I turned thirteen I opened a private bank account and I got myself a job shelving groceries in a town the next domaine over from ours. I told my family I was in a study group meeting after school. My father later told me they thought I was dating a young vixen. Either way it didn't matter, so long as they didn’t know I was working, getting my paws dirty. I was Rollie the grocery shelver, later Rollie the lorry driver, Rollie the carpenter’s assistant. Any job I could get I took, so I could earn money on my own. Until the day I turned sixteen and I had enough money to buy Windskimmer. My boat. Not a gift, not a charity, not a piece of Darktail Domain property that I was just using until someone else needed it. Mine. Something that I could do with as I pleased and could never been taken away. Mine.” He panted for several moments, out from breath from his weeping rant. A sharp fanged grin crossed his face, and he let a weak chuckle. “My parents were so furious when I had it delivered to our front portico.”
The proper Noble response to this would be to point out to Rolas what a silly waste of time his crusade against his caste was. Nobles didn’t get grubby like a Commoner in the fields, they led others and made sure all were provided for. But Melanie had never been a proper noble. Had not the Red Vixen been her own response to taking up the Noble responsibilities her brother Marl had shirked?
She gathered Rolas up in her arms, letting his head rest on her shoulder, petting the back of his head carefully, so as not to touch the lump there. “So that’s why you wanted me to sail with you so badly. You needed see my honest self, and show yours to me, so there would be no more secrets between us.”
“Yes,” he murmured into her shoulder.
“Were you afraid, I wonder, that I was merely another gift, granted in mere charity?”
“No. Yes. I don’t know.” He sighed. “I’m so tired.”
She wanted nothing more than to lay down herself and sleep for approximately a thousand years. But she couldn’t yet. How did the finishing school joke go? Nobles get to sleep after the paperwork is done, and it’s never done. “Up, Rolas. Can’t sleep yet,” she urged.
“Why not?” he demanded churlishly.
“Rolas,” she said carefully. “How did your boat get in the water? It was a good five meters up from the shore, and I tied the anchor line around a tree.”
He looked at her blankly for a moment, then the same realization hit him. “We’re not the only ones here.” He came shakily to his feet, and together they headed over to the spot where Windskimmer had beached itself. The anchor line was still wrapped around the tree where she’d left it, but the end had been neatly cut. Further, there were several sets of footprints, none of the foxen, dug into the sand where at least three people had shoved the boat back into the water.
Melanie glanced down at the footprints. “There was a wazagan,” well, that would explain how they managed to push the boat so far, “maybe two humans, both barefoot, and… is that a kinis there?”
“Looks like it,” Rolas agreed, recognizing the felenoid footprint. The kinis were similar to foxen, in that they were the only other race in the Alliance that sported full pelts of fur, a necessity given the chill of their homeworld. “Fellow must be melting in this equatorial heat.” He scratched his chin in thought. “You said this world used to belong to a pirate. Bloody Margo, right?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “They have to be members of her crew that we missed, stuck here when Margo was captured. Were they on your boat when it hit the reef?”
“I didn’t see anybody on the deck when I was looking at it from up at the top of the island,” he said. “There aren’t any controls in the cabin, someone would have had to be at the wheel when they pushed off.”
“So they just it pushed it away to get rid of it. Either they have their own transportation off this island or they don’t care that they’re stuck here.” Melanie shivered slightly, despite the heat. “Just like we are.”
